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felassan · 21 days

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New today from IGN: 'Dragon Age: The Veilguard's Devs Reveal New Info About Each of the Companions (and Solas and Varric, Too)'

It turns out The Veilguard really is the friends we made along the way.

Intro:

"Friendships, romantic relationships, and everything in between have always been an integral part of not just the Dragon Age series, but of BioWare in general. From Mass Effect’s Garrus Vakarian to Dragon Age’s Varric Tethras, the characters – and how they get along with the player – are inseparable from titles from the studio. But, perhaps more than any other BioWare game, Dragon Age: The Veilguard is leaning in heavily on this idea, as it’s already easy to see from the marketing material. For one, the name changed from Dragon Age: Dreadwolf back in June, with BioWare general manager Gary McKay telling us at the time that it was out of a desire to shift the focus to a “really deep and compelling group of companions.” That would be followed by a first official trailer at Summer Game Fest that put the focus squarely on seven new companions that will be tagging along with the player character, Rook, in The Veilguard. With all that in mind, it’s little surprise to hear game director Corinne Busche talk about how these companions aren’t just central to the story of The Veilguard, but the gameplay and combat as well. “Building a relationship with companions has always been a staple of Dragon Age, but this time around, that relationship translates into how well you work together as a team,” Busche tells IGN. “It is how you're actually going to level up your companions, by getting to know them better. That's how you're going to unlock skill points. So when you look at all of the various abilities the companions have, there's inherent combos and synergies and roles that they'll have on the battlefield.” She uses the example of Neve, the mysterious detective mage who has a wildly useful special ability to slow time in combat. “But if I really get the opportunity to know her,” Busche explains, “whether it's platonic or romantic, I'm going to help be able to shape her skills and augment those abilities that work really well with my own personal build, so our sense of teamwork really deepens.” During our time with the game, IGN got to see some of this in action; unsurprisingly, Dragon Age: The Veilguard has an approval/disapproval system, with pop-up text on the side of the screen indicating whether or not a companion liked what Rook just did or said. But something new in this Dragon Age: even just completing a quest with a companion in your party increases your “bond” with them, whether they agree with how you handled things or not. Your relationship, Busche says, isn’t necessarily about “how much they like you, but how well you get to know them.” “This is about a found family,” Busche tells us. “That is, they have the same goals, different complications in their life, but they're all giving everything they have to defend Thedas. You're going to get to know them really well. You're going to develop trust, understanding. That doesn't mean you're always going to agree.” But, we’ll have plenty more to say about the game systems and combat later. With Busche, we had the opportunity to really dive into the seven companions at the center of The Veilguard and what they’re all about. Here’s what she had to say about each one:"

"DAVRIN Busche: “When we were thinking about Davrin, how we were going to develop him as a character, we had to think about, 'How is he going to show up on the battlefield?' And it was unique because he has this, I guess you could say, companion of his own, the griffon Assan. That makes him, as a companion, very unique, because Assan shows up on the battlefield. So we had to think about how that integrates into his abilities, where Davrin as a Grey Warden is capable on his own, but also, when does he call upon Assan and what does that look like? What happens if you're indoors?... And indeed, when you're doing some of Davrin's content, just seeing Assan gliding through the environments, you really get a sense that they care and they're protective about each other. “…When we think about Davrin and his being the representative of the Grey Wardens within the team of The Veilguard, it was an opportunity for us to really go back to some of those roots that we know our fans, our players, deeply care about. Dragon Age: Origins, of course, was so Grey Warden-forward. We want to evoke those memories, those connections that our players have. And I absolutely love when you're journeying with Davrin, not only his aesthetic, how he carries himself as a Warden, but how he interacts with his fellow Wardens. The little wrinkle of, 'Hey, there actually are some griffons remaining in Thedas,' how he learns as a Warden to train and interact with these griffons that, to our knowledge, haven't existed for quite some time, it's a learning experience on a lost art of the Grey Wardens that is really unique to Davrin's character.”"

"HARDING Busche: “To talk about Harding as a companion, I guess I'd have to go back to Inquisition. Of course, Harding showed up. She was your scout on the field. There was a light romance with her, and I think one of the things that the team didn't quite expect is how much Harding would catch on in Inquisition. Players fell in love with her, and we heard them. They wanted a deeper romance, they wanted more engagement with Harding. So for the team, I felt like it was kind of a no-brainer for us to bring back Harding, and we also wanted to reestablish that connection to the Inquisition in the world of Thedas, which occurred 10 years ago, the events of Inquisition. “Harding serves as our proxy back to those events, and you get to learn about what's happened with the Inquisition since, so she presents some really lovely opportunities for us. I will say, personality-wise and her role on the battlefield, she is among my favorites. When you see her leap into the air, unleashing these devastating attacks with her bow and arrow, I just can't get enough of her.”"

"TAASH Busche: “Taash, in the creation of their arc, is one of our more complex characters. It's a journey along their arc that is about introspection. 'Where do I belong in the world? What are my boundaries? What do I fight for? How do I become at peace with who I am?' So I love the juxtaposition, actually, between Taash's personal journey and this imposing literal dragon slayer, that sort of hard exterior and really gentle interior. It makes Taash a really special companion for me.” (When asked which companion had the steamiest romance): “I'll just speak for me personally, but at the culmination of the romance arcs, I'd have to say Taash. When I got to that scene and saw the finished version of that cinematic, I was hollering. Hollering.”"

"EMMRICH Busche: “The thing about Emmrich that is going to surprise our fans the most is his relationship with necromancy. I really love that we kind of turned the idea of a necromancer on its head here, where you think of them as these conjurers of evil, the certain malice when you hear the term 'necromancer,' but it couldn't be farther from the truth for Emmrich. There is a reverence about the dead. He has a unique relationship with death. You get to explore how he ended up in the Mourn Watch. Death has shaped this character in all aspects of his life, and we frequently refer to him as our gentleman necromancer. I think his proper, kind nature stems from that respect that he's learned about this cycle of life and death throughout his life. “Manfred is like a son to Emmrich. He very much has an affinity for this wisp, this life force that he's given a second chance through this skeletal body, and in many ways, it's the story of a parent raising a child. Emmrich, he needs to teach Manfred and help him along to develop as a character of their own, things like learning new skills, how to assist The Veilguard. Some of our most charming moments are in dealing with Manfred, and I must say I absolutely love the interactions. They just have me rolling whenever Manfred steals the show. “…In my last playthrough, I romanced Emmrich. What I also loved is as I'm synergizing with him as we're doing combos, just having him refer to me as ‘my dear’ on the battlefield. ‘Well done, my dear!’ It just fills me with joy every time.”"

"LUCANIS Busche: “The character that went through the most changes [throughout development] without a doubt was Lucanis. Lucanis is very complex. He's an assassin. He is very skilled in the art of death. The Antivan Crows, they pursue these contracts with a certain level of dispassion, but also, Lucanis is a romantic, and he's dealing with some internal struggles. He's been through a lot of trauma. He's relearning how to trust. And all of those elements come together with a richness, but it creates a lot of complexity in how we tell that story. So I'd say Lucanis is the first one that comes to my mind in terms of the thought that's gone into it, where we've had to make adjustments to really cover all facets of his character.”"

"NEVE Busche: “Neve is our confident noir detective. I love to bring her onto the battlefield because she's just so incredibly capable. She's our ice mage, so really big on controlling the battlefield, and that's actually a good metaphor to her arc. She wants to fight for change. She wants to fight for a better Minrathous, and she's going to use all the tools at her disposal to try and reshape Minrathous into a better place for all. She's very much a Shadow Dragon. This is among the mantra of the Shadow Dragons. They operate from the shadows, fighting for a better Minrathous. So as this accomplished ice mage, she's fierce. She's not going to shy away from any challenge, whether it's taking down darkspawn or dealing with the Magisterium in Minrathous.”"

"BELLARA Busche: “Oh, my dear, sweet Bellara. I relate to Bellara a lot. She is joyous. She's been through a lot, but she remains curious, optimistic. She's kind of a geek. She really likes her fiction. She fangirls over Neve a little bit. She's just so relatable, and I think that's what our players will find and fall in love with when they get to meet Bellara, is just how much you'll recognize some of those patterns and sensibilities that she holds, but don't let it fool you. She is also a Veil Jumper. She's very comfortable in elven ruins. I frequently bring her with me in my party. I like to play rogue. I like to play the Veil Jumper, or the Veil Ranger. Bellara's a fantastic companion to set up that spec with electric vulnerabilities, so I love her both on and off the battlefield.”"

Bonus rounds:

"SOLAS Okay okay, so Solas isn’t technically one of your core companions who will travel with you, but given his place in the Dragon Age story, we still had to ask about his relationship with Rook. Here’s what Busche had to say: Busche: “Rook's relationship with Solas is a complicated one. Everyone has seen, at this point, the gameplay reveal and the opening moments of the game, so you'll know things got shaken up pretty radically for Solas already. He's trapped. He's basically communicating with you as an advisor, and I absolutely love that idea of, ‘He's your lifeline right now, but can you trust him?’ And those touch points with him, ‘Do I take his advice or not? Can he be trusted? Is he going to betray me?’ All the while giving you this information that you absolutely need in order to be successful. “It creates an interesting stage for us, where, I think our fans will agree, Solas is very complicated. He firmly believes he's doing the right thing, and some of our fans will agree that he's trying to do the right thing. Others will not, and this creates a stage for you, the player, where you get to lean into those tendencies of your own as you're taking advice from Solas throughout parts of the game. I think those really interesting debates about, ‘Was he ever redeemable? Can he be trusted? Was he wrong all along?’ You're really going to be able to dive in deep on that.”"

"VARRIC Varric, while a part of Dragon Age: The Veilguard and a series mainstay, isn’t part of your core companions either. But, as fans can see in the trailers, he’s still very much in The Veilguard, so we asked Dragon Age creative director John Epler about how he’s changed since we last saw him in Inquisition: Epler: “Since the events of Dragon Age: Inquisition, he has spent the time, just briefly, obviously, [serving as] Viscount of Kirkwall. I mean, anybody who knows much about Varric knows how well a job where he sits around and tells people what to do is going to sit with him. He has been participating in the hunt for Solas. And I think for Varric in particular, that's a very difficult thing for him to do because Solas is his friend. Solas is somebody that he grew close to over the events of Inquisition. They adventure together, they work together. “And now knowing who Solas really is, that eats at Varric. Because Varric always sees, Varric believes he can always make somebody do the right thing. Varric believes he is the most convincing, charismatic, because he cares about people. And he has this belief that as long as I get a chance to talk to Solas, I'm going to be able to turn him. But as he's seeing what Solas' ritual is doing to the world around him, as he experienced in the comics, Dragon Age: The Missing, that eats at him a little bit. That's challenging his world view of him as always being the best judge of people, being able to see that somebody is able to be redeemed. And he's starting to question a little bit, ‘am I right or am I being a fool by believing in Solas?’ ”"

[source]

#dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #video games #solas #long post #longpost #dragon age: the missing #dragon age: tevinter nights #mass effect #garrus vakarian

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angelicgirlmj · 1 month

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an angels guide: before your first day back to school ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

hi angels! so for many of us it’s approaching back to school season. for lots of people this can be a bit of an anxiety inducing time, whether you are starting a new school year or kind of education there is alot to plan and prepare and get ready for - it can feel extremely overwhelming! here is my guide for having an organised and effective first day back at school to get you on track and motivated! enjoy and as always feel free to comment your own tips or advice.

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the week before ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

check through stationary and buy anything you need, check subject lists to see what is recommended as well. buy cute stationary in your favourite colours to motivate you!

sort through books, folders etc and organise notes, any loose pieces of paper and any important documents.

assign a folder to each subject, or if already have a folder check through and make sure it is organised and neat.

clear school emails etc, check through and organise into sections and respond to any. check for any information from your school regarding the upcoming year.

finish off any summer work and make sure it is all complete and ready to be handed in on the deadlines provided. check for any extra work if you have spare time, such as a book or article to read.

read up on the new syllabus/lesson plan for your subjects. familiarise yourself with how it looks, any new terms and any possible problem areas.

fix your sleep schedule! start going to bed earlier and waking up at the time you need to be up for school just to make it less of a shock to your system.

check your bag will fit everything and that any additionals such as a water bottle or lunch box are in good condition and to your tastes.

work on your morning/evening routines, plan when you will be doing work and make necessary changes.

figure out your fitness goals and routines - are they realistic for a full time student? time management is key.

if using apps such as notion, ensure it is set up for the new school year and neatly organised.

plan outfits, check through clothes in case in need of new underwear etc or wardrobe staples.

research healthy and nutritious lunch ideas (may make a post on this later!!), buy ingredients if needed.

do any ‘high maintenance’ things, get your nails done, lashes, eyebrows etc.

pack an emergency bag (pads/tampons, spare underwear, cash etc).

check any hygiene products and buy new ones/replace old ones if run out or in need of more!

do more self care, do a hair or face mask, do your own nails, watch your favourite films, have some you time before school starts again.

make a back to school playlist.

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the night before ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

eat a healthy dinner.

do face mask (use one you have tried before in case a new one causes a bad reaction).

oil hair + hair mask.

dry brush before shower.

wash out oil + masks, shampoo twice.

apply conditioner and leave in.

exfoliate and clean body with soap before shaving.

wash out conditioner and apply bath gel.

finish shower, hair routine (mine is in-depth i have curly hair!), apply body oils.

blowdry, diffuse or air dry hair depending on type.

apply body lotion and perfume.

make tea and drink while doing some journaling (what is my plan for tomorrow, what do i want to achieve etc)

pack bag and organise clothes.

clean teeth, floss and mouthwash.

do gua sha routine and ice face.

do pm skincare routine.

do nail care routine and out hair up for bed.

watch comfort show or read comfort book.

set alarm.

have an early night!

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the day of ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

wake up nice and early.

do some yoga/stretching.

tidy room.

eat a healthy breakfast.

pack or plan lunch.

fill up water bottle.

check bag is fully packed.

check school timetable, make note of rooms etc.

have a quick shower if time (shave, body gel etc).

clean teeth and do am skincare.

get dressed.

journal and plan day.

put on back to school playlist!

head to school.

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thank you for reading angels! hope this was so helpful and have a wonderful back to school season. all my love, m.

#becoming that girl #clean girl #girlblogging #girlhood #glow up #it girl #it girl energy #just girly things #pink pilates princess #that girl

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fr0stf4ll · 22 days

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Flavours of Prythian

Coming from that request

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; Y/N, a talented restaurateur’s life is turned upside down when she forms an unexpected bond with Azriel, the mysterious Spymaster of the Night Court. Befriending Elain, who confides in her about a male she’s trying to win over, she eagerly helps her new friend — only to discover the male is none other than Azriel. When the bond between her and Azriel snaps at first touch, she’s torn between loyalty to Elain and the undeniable connection she shares with the shadowy warrior.

word count ; 7.8k

warning; //

notes; Yoo everyone, here is my first one shot ! Thank you again for the request<333 Should I do a more general taglist so that you guys can be permanently on it. Enjoy it, see you <3

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Prythian was a land of many wonders, from the towering peaks of the Illyrian mountains to the lush, rolling hills of the Spring Court. But for you, the true magic of the land was found in its kitchens, markets, and the rich flavors that each court had to offer.

You had always been drawn to the culinary arts, even as a child. Your curiosity led you to travel across the courts, tasting the distinct dishes of each region, learning from the most skilled chefs, and uncovering the hidden culinary gems that most would overlook. You spent years journeying from the Day Court, where spices danced like sunlight on the tongue, to the Winter Court, where hearty stews and warm bread were a staple against the biting cold. In the Night Court, you discovered the delicate balance of flavors that mirrored the starlit skies above, and in the Summer Court, you indulged in the rich, vibrant tastes that seemed to capture the very essence of the sun-drenched beaches.

Your travels weren’t just about satisfying your own cravings; they were a quest to bring the best of Prythian’s diverse cuisines to others. And so, you did the impossible—you opened a series of restaurants, each one in a different court, each one a testament to the culinary traditions you had learned and made your own. Your establishments became a haven for those seeking not only a good meal but an experience, a journey through Prythian’s tastes and textures without ever leaving their seat.

Your flagship restaurant, nestled in the heart of Velaris, was particularly special. It was here, in the City of Starlight, that you combined the flavors of all the courts into a menu that was as varied and enchanting as Prythian itself. Word quickly spread of the remarkable dishes served within, and soon, it wasn’t just the citizens of Velaris who came to dine—High Fae from every court sought out your creations.

One such evening, as you oversaw the final preparations for the dinner service, the door to your restaurant swung open, and in walked a familiar face—Elain Archeron. Elain had been wandering through Velaris, taking in the beauty of the city, when the warm, inviting aroma from your restaurant had drawn her in.

Elain was known for her gentle nature, her love of gardening, and her keen eye for beauty in all things. But tonight, she was here for something different—a new experience, a chance to explore another form of beauty through the culinary delights that had been whispered about throughout the city.

As Elain took her seat near a window overlooking the Sidra, she immediately felt at ease. There was a sense of comfort and warmth in the restaurant, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself walking over to greet her. She looked up with a warm smile, her eyes bright with curiosity and a touch of shyness.

“Welcome,” you said, your own smile reflecting her warmth. “I’m Y/N, the owner and chef here. It’s a pleasure to have you.”

Elain’s smile widened, and she nodded appreciatively. “I’ve heard so much about this place, I just had to come see for myself. The aromas alone are worth the visit.”

You chuckled, feeling an instant connection with her. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ll make sure the food lives up to the expectations.”

As the evening went on, you found yourself returning to Elain’s table more than once, the conversation flowing easily between the two of you. You talked about your travels, the different courts you had visited, and the inspiration behind some of the dishes on the menu. Elain, in turn, shared stories of her own—of her love for gardening, the peace she found in the quiet moments spent among the flowers, and her growing appreciation for the little joys in life, like a perfectly prepared meal.

There was something comforting in the way you both connected, as if you had known each other for much longer than just one evening. By the time dessert arrived—a delicate pastry inspired by the flavors of the Summer Court—you and Elain were chatting like old friends, the conversation punctuated by shared laughter and the occasional appreciative hum as she tasted each new dish.

As the night drew to a close, Elain hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I’d love to come back,” she said, her voice soft but sincere. “Maybe we could do this again sometime?”

You smiled, genuinely pleased by the idea. “I’d like that. You’re welcome anytime, Elain.”

Elain quickly became a regular fixture at your restaurant, her visits growing more frequent as the two of you bonded over shared stories, laughter, and the occasional glass of wine. It wasn’t long before your casual conversations began to take on a more personal tone, with Elain confiding in you about her life, her hopes, and her dreams.

One evening, after the dinner rush had died down and the restaurant had settled into a peaceful hum, Elain arrived with a particular glint in her eye. You noticed it the moment she walked in, her steps lighter, her smile brighter. She took her usual seat by the window, and you didn’t waste any time joining her, a knowing smile on your face.

“Alright, Elain,” you said, sitting down across from her. “You’re glowing tonight. What’s going on?”

Elain blushed, her hands fluttering nervously in her lap. “It’s nothing, really… Well, maybe it’s something. I don’t know.”

You leaned in closer, eyes wide with curiosity. “Come on, you can’t just leave me hanging like that. Spill!”

She bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before finally giving in. “There’s… this male,” she began, her voice soft but filled with excitement. “I’ve been trying to get his attention for a while now, and I think… I think it might actually be working.”

You couldn’t help but squeal in delight, clapping your hands together. “Elain! This is amazing! Tell me everything—who is he? How did it start? What’s he like?”

Elain giggled at your enthusiasm, her own excitement bubbling to the surface as she began to share the details. “He’s… well, he’s different. Reserved, I guess you could say. But there’s something about him that just draws me in. He’s kind, in his own way, and he has this quiet strength that I really admire.”

You listened intently, hanging on her every word as she described this mysterious male who had captured her attention. It was clear that she was smitten, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement for her.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked, your mind already racing with ideas. “How are you going to win him over?”

Elain smiled shyly, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. “Well, I thought… maybe I could start by cooking for him. You know, something simple but special. He loves good food, and I think it might help him see… well, see me.”

You practically jumped out of your seat with excitement. “Elain, that’s perfect! And you’re in the right place—I can help you with recipes, tips, anything you need. We’ll make sure this meal is unforgettable.”

Her eyes lit up with gratitude. “Really? You’d help me?”

“Of course!” you replied, beaming. “This is what friends are for. And besides, I love a good love story. We’ll make sure he can’t resist you after this.”

From that moment on, the two of you were inseparable. Elain would visit the restaurant every few days, sometimes to try out a new dish, other times just to chat and share the latest developments in her budding romance. The more she talked about this male, the more you could see how deeply she cared for him, and it made you all the more determined to help her succeed.

You spent hours in the kitchen together, experimenting with different ingredients and techniques, crafting meals that were not only delicious but also filled with meaning. Elain would watch you work, her eyes wide with admiration as you explained the significance of each spice, each flavor, and how it could be used to convey emotion.

“There’s a language in food,” you told her one afternoon as you kneaded dough for a loaf of bread. “Every dish tells a story. When you cook for someone, you’re sharing a part of yourself with them. It’s intimate, in a way.”

Elain nodded thoughtfully, her hands busy chopping herbs for the soup you were preparing. “I never thought of it like that, but it makes sense. I want him to know how I feel, even if I can’t always find the words.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection for your friend. “Then we’ll make sure every bite he takes is filled with love.”

As the days turned into weeks, Elain’s visits became a highlight of your day. She would burst through the door, her eyes sparkling as she recounted her latest interactions with the male who had stolen her heart. You would listen with rapt attention, offering advice and encouragement, celebrating every small victory and reassuring her during moments of doubt.

“He loved the soup,” she told you one evening, her cheeks flushed with happiness. “He said it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. And I think… I think he’s starting to notice me.”

You grinned, feeling a surge of pride. “I told you, Elain. No one can resist good food, especially when it’s made with love.”

She laughed, her joy infectious. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Y/N. You’ve helped me so much.”

You waved off her gratitude with a smile. “Nonsense. You’re the one doing all the hard work. I’m just here to cheer you on.”

But the truth was, you had come to care deeply for Elain and her happiness. It wasn��t just about the food anymore—it was about seeing your friend find the love and connection she so deserved. And as she continued to come back, sharing her hopes and dreams, you couldn’t help but feel that you had found something special too.

Your friendship with Elain had become a source of joy and fulfillment, a reminder that sometimes, the most meaningful connections were forged in the simplest of moments—over a shared meal, a quiet conversation, or a burst of laughter that echoed through the night.

And so, as the seasons changed and the nights grew longer, you continued to help Elain in her quest to win over this mysterious male, knowing that whatever the outcome, you had found a true friend in her. A friend who had come into your life unexpectedly, but who had quickly become an irreplaceable part of it.

Weeks had passed since you and Elain had first started crafting meals together, each one a carefully planned step in her quest to win over the male who had captivated her heart. Every visit, every dish, brought a new story, a new glimmer of hope in her eyes. You were genuinely happy for her, thrilled to see her so full of life and excitement. So, when she asked if she could bring him to your restaurant for dinner, you couldn’t have been more supportive.

“Of course, Elain!” you’d said, flashing her an encouraging smile. “I’ll make sure everything is perfect. It’ll be a night he won’t forget.”

You’d spent the entire day preparing, selecting only the finest ingredients and crafting a menu that would showcase the very best of what your restaurant had to offer. You wanted this night to be special for her—special for them. You had no idea how special it would become, for reasons you never could have imagined.

As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting the city of Velaris in a warm, golden glow, Elain arrived at the restaurant with a male by her side. You couldn’t quite make out his features at first, but the way she clung to his arm, her eyes bright with anticipation, told you all you needed to know. This was the one.

As they stepped into the softly lit dining room, you finally got a good look at him—Azriel, the shadowsinger of the Night Court. You had heard of him, of course, through whispers and stories, but nothing could have prepared you for the moment your eyes met his.

Elain beamed as she introduced the two of you, her voice filled with warmth and pride. “Azriel, this is Y/N, the wonderful chef I’ve been telling you about. And Y/N, this is Azriel.”

He extended his hand to you, his expression polite, reserved. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, his voice deep and smooth.

You reached out, intending to greet him with the same friendly courtesy you offered all your patrons. But the moment your hand touched his, something shifted in the air—a sudden, overwhelming rush of heat and energy that took your breath away. The bond snapped into place with such force that it nearly knocked you off your feet.

For a split second, the world around you faded, and all you could feel was the pull, the undeniable connection that tethered your soul to his. His eyes widened in shock, and you knew he felt it too—the bond, the realization that fate had just entwined your lives in a way neither of you had expected.

But as quickly as the bond formed, reality came crashing back down. Elain was standing there, her eyes full of hope, completely unaware of the storm that had just erupted inside you. She had no idea that the male she was so clearly infatuated with, the one she had been working so hard to win over, was now bound to you in a way that went beyond anything you could have ever imagined.

Panic surged through you. How could this happen? How could you possibly accept this bond when it would mean shattering the friendship you had built with Elain, when it would mean taking away the one thing she wanted so desperately?

You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

With a forced smile, you quickly withdrew your hand from Azriel’s grasp, the warmth of the bond lingering like a phantom touch. “It’s nice to meet you too,” you managed to say, though your voice sounded hollow even to your own ears.

Azriel’s gaze lingered on you, confusion and something deeper flickering in his hazel eyes. But you couldn’t let yourself look too long, couldn’t let yourself feel what was brewing inside you. Not when Elain was standing right there, her happiness hanging in the balance.

“Please, take a seat,” you said, stepping back and motioning toward the table you had specially prepared for them. “I’ll make sure everything is perfect.”

Elain smiled, oblivious to the turmoil in your heart, and took her seat. Azriel hesitated for just a moment before following suit, his eyes never leaving yours. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, the unspoken questions hanging in the air between you, but you didn’t dare meet his eyes again. You couldn’t.

As the evening went on, you did your best to stay professional, to act as if nothing had changed. You brought out dish after dish, each one more exquisite than the last, all while ignoring the fire burning in your chest. Every time Azriel tried to catch your eye, every time he tried to speak to you, you found a reason to turn away, to focus on something—anything—else.

Elain chattered on, completely unaware of the tension building between you and Azriel. She complimented the food, praised your skills, and even mentioned how much Azriel seemed to be enjoying himself. And through it all, you kept up the facade, kept pretending as if the bond snapping into place hadn't turned your entire world upside down.

But it was getting harder. With every glance Azriel sent your way, with every quiet question he tried to ask you in passing, it felt like the invisible thread between you was pulling tighter, demanding to be acknowledged. Yet, you refused to give in.

As the night dragged on, the tension between you and Azriel grew unbearable. He could sense it—you knew he could—but Elain remained blissfully unaware, happily recounting the gossip from the latest happenings in Velaris, smiling every time she caught Azriel glancing her way.

Azriel's eyes kept drifting back to you. Not once, not twice, but every time you approached the table, as if he couldn’t stop himself. You could feel the weight of his gaze burning into you, the way his expression darkened each time you brushed past him without so much as a word. He knew you were avoiding him, and he didn’t like it.

When you brought out the final dish—an indulgent dessert meant to close the evening on a sweet note—Elain excused herself to step outside for a moment, leaving you alone with Azriel for the first time since the bond snapped.

You could feel his presence before you even turned around, the quiet intensity of his gaze. And as you set the plate down in front of him, you knew you couldn’t avoid this confrontation any longer.

“Y/N.” His voice was low, barely more than a murmur, but the way he said your name sent a shiver down your spine. “We need to talk.”

You swallowed hard, keeping your eyes firmly fixed on the table in front of you. “There’s nothing to talk about,” you said, your voice cold and distant, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions raging inside you.

Azriel leaned forward, his voice dropping even lower. “Don’t lie to me. You felt it too.”

The bond. He didn’t have to say the word for you to know what he meant. It was a truth that hung in the air between you, undeniable and impossible to ignore. And yet, you had to. You had to protect Elain, to protect your friendship, no matter the cost.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, your heart aching with the effort it took to deny the pull you felt toward him.

Azriel’s expression darkened, his hand curling into a fist on the table. “Don’t do this, Y/N. Don’t shut me out.”

But you couldn’t let him in. If you let him in, if you allowed yourself to even consider what the bond meant, you would be betraying Elain in the worst way possible. How could you even think about being with him when she had spent weeks confiding in you, trusting you with her feelings for him?

“No, Azriel.” You stepped back, your voice firmer this time. “I can’t.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. “Why? Because of Elain?”

You winced at the mention of her name, the weight of guilt pressing heavily on your chest. “She cares about you. A lot.”

Azriel's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Y/N, it’s not like that between Elain and me.”

But you shook your head, refusing to let yourself believe it. “It doesn’t matter. She’s my friend. I can’t—I won’t—do this to her.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you was thick with tension, a storm of emotions swirling just beneath the surface. Azriel opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, the sound of the door opening broke the silence.

Elain re-entered the dining room, a bright smile on her face as she made her way back to the table. “Sorry about that,” she said cheerfully, oblivious to the charged atmosphere between you and Azriel. “What did I miss?”

You forced a smile, masking the turmoil raging inside you. “Nothing,” you lied, your voice steady even though your heart was breaking. “Just making sure everything’s perfect.”

Elain beamed, clearly pleased with how the evening had gone. “It really has been perfect, Y/N. Thank you so much for everything.”

Azriel’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he finally looked away, the tension in his jaw clear as he nodded in agreement. “Yes… thank you.”

You nodded once, offering them both a stiff smile before excusing yourself from the room, your chest tightening with every step you took away from them.

As you retreated to the quiet of the kitchen, your hands bracing against the counter, the reality of what had just happened began to sink in. The bond had snapped. Azriel was your mate. And yet, you couldn’t—wouldn’t—accept it.

You had promised yourself you’d never hurt Elain. And if shutting down every advance Azriel made, if pushing away the one person the Cauldron had chosen for you was the only way to keep that promise, then that’s exactly what you would do.

Even if it tore you apart.

Back in the kitchen, you leaned heavily against the counter, your hands gripping the cold marble surface as you tried to regain your composure. The bond had snapped, and with it, any sense of stability you had managed to hold onto throughout the evening. The world felt off-kilter, like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering on the brink.

One of your sous chefs, a sharp-eyed female who had worked with you since the restaurant’s inception, noticed your pallor. She set down the pan she was holding and approached you, concern evident in her eyes.

“Y/N,” she began cautiously, her voice gentle but probing, “are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You forced a nod, though you knew your expression wasn’t convincing. “I’m fine,” you murmured, though your voice was shaky and unsteady.

She frowned, clearly not buying your response. Her eyes scanned your face, taking in the unusual paleness of your skin, the way your hands trembled slightly as you gripped the counter. “You don’t look fine. Do you need to sit down? Maybe get some air?”

You shook your head, trying to brush off her concern, but the weight of the bond pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. “No, I’ll be okay. It’s just… been a long night.”

She hesitated, still studying you closely, before glancing around the bustling kitchen. “But, Y/N,” she continued, her tone turning more inquisitive, “it’s strange. You always insist on preparing Miss Elain’s meals yourself, especially when she’s bringing a guest. But tonight, you didn’t even touch the preparation. You left it all to us.”

You froze at her words, the reality of what had happened sinking in even deeper. She was right—normally, you would have insisted on handling every detail of Elain’s meal, wanting to ensure that everything was perfect for your friend. But tonight, when it mattered most, you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to do it.

The truth was, the moment you realized Elain was bringing someone special, you couldn’t bring yourself to touch the ingredients. You had let the staff handle everything because deep down, some part of you knew something was about to change—something you weren’t ready to face.

“I…” you started, but the words caught in your throat. You swallowed hard, trying to find some semblance of an explanation. “I just thought… maybe it was time to let you all handle it. You’re more than capable.”

She tilted her head slightly, her frown deepening as she searched your eyes. “Are you sure that’s all it is?”

You nodded again, more firmly this time, even though the lie tasted bitter on your tongue. “Yes, I’m sure. I trust all of you with the kitchen. You don’t need me hovering over every detail.”

She didn’t seem entirely convinced, but she didn’t press the issue further. Instead, she offered a small, supportive smile. “Well, if you ever need a break, don’t hesitate to step out. We’ve got things under control here.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I appreciate it.”

With a final nod, she returned to her station, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the crushing weight of the bond you were trying so desperately to ignore.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment as you tried to push away the overwhelming emotions swirling inside you. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the image of Azriel’s eyes, the way they had widened in shock and recognition when the bond snapped into place. You couldn’t forget the warmth of his hand in yours, the way the world had seemed to narrow down to just the two of you in that fleeting, life-altering moment.

But Elain… you couldn’t do this to Elain. You couldn’t shatter her hopes, her dreams, just because of a bond you had never asked for. So, you did the only thing you could—you steeled yourself, pushed down the emotions threatening to break free, and vowed to keep your distance from Azriel, no matter how much it hurt.

You would be there for Elain, just as you always had been. You would help her win over the male she had been trying so hard to impress, even if it meant denying your own heart in the process.

Because that’s what friends did. They put each other first, no matter the cost.

And as you stood there in the kitchen, surrounded by the comforting sounds of sizzling pans and clinking utensils, you made a silent promise to yourself: you would protect Elain’s happiness, even if it meant sacrificing your own.

—

Azriel sat in the sitting room of the townhouse, surrounded by the familiar faces of the inner circle, yet he felt completely out of place. The evening had been an unexpected whirlwind of emotions, leaving him reeling from the bond that had snapped so suddenly and without warning. He had come here to find solace, to clear his mind, but every thought seemed to spiral back to you—the way you had looked at him, the way you had recoiled after the bond had formed during dinner at your restaurant.

He couldn’t understand it. How could something so significant be brushed aside so easily? He had tried to reach out to you, to understand what was happening, but you had shut him down, leaving him to grapple with the weight of the bond on his own.

The others were chatting around him, the sound of their laughter and conversation filling the room, but it all felt distant, muffled. Azriel’s mind was too clouded to focus on anything they were saying. He was trapped in a loop, replaying the moment over and over in his head—the spark, the connection, the way your eyes had widened in recognition before you quickly masked it.

He was so lost in thought that he almost missed it when Rhysand mentioned your name.

“You know, Y/N’s restaurant is one of the best in Velaris,” Rhys was saying, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smile. “Feyre and I went there a few nights ago, and it was nothing short of incredible.”

Feyre nodded enthusiastically, her eyes lighting up at the memory. “The food was amazing. Every dish was like a work of art. She really has a talent, doesn’t she?”

Mor, who was lounging on one of the couches, joined in with a grin. “That’s not even the half of it. Y/N’s got restaurants all over Prythian—one in each court, if you can believe it. She’s become a bit of a legend in the culinary world.”

Azriel’s heart sank further as they continued to praise you, each word driving the knife deeper into his chest. It wasn’t that he disagreed with them—he knew you were remarkable, talented, someone to be admired. But right now, every mention of your name was like salt in a wound that was already festering.

Cassian, who had been listening with a smirk on his face, finally spoke up, his tone playful. “Sounds like Az here missed out on one hell of a meal tonight. Maybe he’ll have to go back and get a taste of what everyone’s raving about.”

Azriel tensed, the comment hitting far too close to home. He knew Cassian was just joking, but the implication—the reminder of what had happened tonight—was too much to bear. Without a word, he pushed himself up from his chair, his movements abrupt enough to draw everyone’s attention.

“Az?” Feyre called out, concern lacing her voice as she watched him head for the door. “Are you alright?”

He didn’t trust himself to respond. Instead, he muttered something about needing some air and quickly left the room, the weight of their gazes heavy on his back as he made his escape.

As the door closed behind him, an uncomfortable silence settled over the room. Everyone exchanged glances, clearly taken aback by Azriel’s sudden departure.

“What’s gotten into him?” Rhysand wondered aloud, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Cassian, never one to let an opportunity for humor pass by, snorted and shook his head. “Probably just realized he’s been a brooding mess all night and couldn’t handle the idea of someone actually having a good time.”

Mor chuckled, though there was a trace of worry in her eyes. “Or maybe he just can’t handle the fact that Y/N’s cooking is so damn good, it knocked him off his game.”

Rhysand sighed, glancing toward the door Azriel had just walked through. “He’s been off since he got back tonight. Maybe something happened.”

Feyre bit her lip, her expression softening. “I hope he’s alright. He seemed… different.”

Cassian, ever the optimist, leaned back in his chair with a lazy grin. “He’ll be fine. Az is tougher than all of us combined. He just needs some time to brood in his room, and he’ll be back to his grumpy self in no time.”

The group shared a few more laughs at Azriel’s expense, but the concern in their eyes never fully faded. They all knew Azriel well enough to understand that when he withdrew like this, it meant something was seriously bothering him.

Azriel’s footsteps were heavy as he made his way to his room, the quiet of the hallway amplifying the thoughts swirling in his mind. As soon as he entered, he shut the door behind him and leaned against it, closing his eyes as he tried to block out the noise, the chaos of emotions inside him.

He couldn’t shake the feeling of your hand in his, the way the bond had snapped into place like it had always been there, waiting. The connection was undeniable, and yet… you had denied it. Denied him.

Why? The question gnawed at him, refusing to let him rest. He had seen the recognition in your eyes, the brief moment when you had felt it too. But then, you had shut down, shut him out as if the bond meant nothing.

It was more than just confusing—it was painful. Azriel had spent centuries in the shadows, watching from the sidelines as his friends found their mates, found love. He had accepted his place, accepted that perhaps it wasn’t meant for him. And then, in the span of a heartbeat, everything had changed. You had changed it.

And now… now he was left in this strange limbo, caught between the undeniable pull of the bond and the walls you had erected between you.

Azriel’s fists clenched at his sides as he fought the urge to storm back to your restaurant, to demand answers, to make you acknowledge what had happened. But he knew he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t force you to accept the bond, couldn’t force you to feel something you clearly weren’t ready to face.

With a frustrated sigh, Azriel pushed off the door and crossed the room, heading to the window that overlooked Velaris. The city was peaceful, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, but his mind was anything but. He rested his forehead against the cool glass, his eyes scanning the distant lights of the city below.

“Why?” he whispered into the empty room, his voice tinged with a desperation he rarely allowed himself to feel. “Why won’t you let me in?”

But the night offered no answers, only the quiet whisper of the wind as it brushed against the windowpane.

—

The next day passed in a blur. You threw yourself into your work, letting the familiar rhythm of chopping, stirring, and plating distract you from the turmoil brewing inside. The restaurant had been busy, as always, with customers filling every table, their laughter and chatter echoing through the dining room. But despite the bustle, you couldn’t shake the heavy weight in your chest—the bond that you were trying so desperately to ignore.

When the last customer had left, you sent your staff home, insisting that you would handle the closing on your own. You needed the time alone, needed to clear your head without the distraction of others around. As the front door clicked shut behind the last of your employees, you finally allowed yourself to breathe.

The kitchen was quiet now, save for the soft sound of the knife in your hand as you prepped ingredients for the next day. The rhythmic motion of slicing through vegetables was soothing, almost meditative. But as you worked, you couldn’t help but feel the tension still coiled tight in your chest.

You were focused on the task at hand, chopping carrots with practiced precision, when a voice cut through the silence, making you freeze in place.

“I bet you could be good with a sword with how you work that knife,” came the familiar, deep voice, tinged with a hint of amusement. “Personally, I wouldn’t want to be those carrots.”

Your hand stilled mid-slice, the knife hovering just above the cutting board. You knew that voice all too well—Azriel.

Slowly, you turned to face him, finding him standing just inside the doorway to the kitchen, his expression guarded but his eyes full of determination. He had changed out of his usual leathers, dressed instead in a simple tunic and trousers, but there was no mistaking the intensity in his gaze.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The tension from the previous night hung heavy in the air, thick and suffocating. You could feel the bond thrumming faintly between you, a constant reminder of the connection you were trying so hard to deny.

But you knew why he was here. You had been avoiding him all day, refusing to even think about the conversation you knew was coming. But now, with the restaurant empty and the two of you alone, there was no escaping it.

You set the knife down on the counter, wiping your hands on a nearby towel as you steeled yourself for what was about to happen.

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to stay calm as you faced Azriel. The tension in the room was almost palpable, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy between you. You had been dreading this conversation, but there was no avoiding it now.

“You shouldn’t have come back,” you said, your voice firm, though you could hear the tremor in it. “We can’t do this, Azriel.”

His brow furrowed, confusion flashing in his eyes. “Why not? Y/N, you felt it too. The bond—it snapped into place. We can’t just ignore that.”

You shook your head, your heart aching at the look on his face. “I’m not ignoring it. But I can’t—I won’t act on it. Not when Elain… Not when she’s been trying so hard to win you over.”

Azriel’s eyes widened in realization, and he took a step closer to you, his expression softening as he reached out. “Y/N, I think there’s been a misunderstanding. Elain wasn’t trying to win me over… not in the way you think.”

You hesitated, frowning as you tried to make sense of his words. “What do you mean? She’s been telling me everything, Azriel. How she’s been trying to get your attention, how much she cares about you… I can’t do that to her. I won’t be the one to hurt her like that.”

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his dark hair, clearly frustrated but determined to set things right. “Y/N, you don’t have the full story. Elain… she’s not interested in me like that. She’s been trying to make Lucien jealous.”

You blinked, taken aback by his words. “Lucien? But… he’s her mate. Why would she do that?”

Azriel nodded, his expression softening as he saw the confusion in your eyes. “Yes, he’s her mate. But they’ve been going through a rough patch lately. Lucien’s duties as emissary for the Night Court have kept him away, and Elain’s been feeling… neglected. She thought that by spending time with me, by pretending there was something more between us, she could get a reaction out of him. It was never about me, Y/N. It was always about Lucien.”

You felt your heart drop as the realization hit you. “So, you were just helping her as a friend?”

Azriel nodded again, his gaze steady as he took a step closer to you. “Exactly. I was only doing this to help her. I never had feelings for her in that way, and she knows that. We were just… playing a part to get Lucien’s attention.”

You swallowed hard, the pieces of the puzzle starting to fall into place. “She didn’t tell me any of this.”

“She probably didn’t want to worry you,” Azriel said gently. “Or maybe she wasn’t ready to admit it to herself. But I promise you, Y/N, there’s nothing between Elain and me. There never was. She’s still trying to figure things out with Lucien, and I was just trying to help her.”

You looked away, your mind racing to process everything Azriel was telling you. You had been so sure, so convinced that you were protecting Elain by shutting Azriel out. But now, with this new information, everything felt uncertain, like the ground had shifted beneath your feet.

“Azriel, I…” you started, but the words caught in your throat. You didn’t know what to say, how to respond. You had built up walls around your heart, walls meant to protect both you and Elain from the pain of betrayal. But now those walls were crumbling, leaving you vulnerable and confused.

Azriel took another step closer, his voice gentle as he spoke. “Y/N, please. Don’t shut me out. Let’s talk about this—really talk. Give me a chance to show you that this bond isn’t something to be feared. It’s something that could be… everything.”

You stood there, trying to process everything Azriel had just told you. The confusion, the guilt, the realization that you had misunderstood everything—it all came crashing down at once. You looked away from Azriel, your gaze dropping to the floor as you struggled to make sense of it all.

“Okay,” you finally muttered, more to yourself than to him. “Now I actually feel like a dumbass.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you cringed internally. But when you glanced back up at Azriel, you found him staring at you with wide eyes for a moment—before a warm, rich laugh escaped him. It was a sound you hadn’t expected, a sound that cut through the tension and made your own lips twitch into a reluctant smile.

Azriel shook his head, still chuckling softly. “You’re not a dumbass, Y/N. Just… someone who cares a lot about her friend.”

You let out a shaky breath, your shoulders relaxing slightly as the weight of the misunderstanding began to lift. But even with the air between you lightened, you couldn’t shake the lingering worry, the uncertainty of what this all meant.

“I just… I don’t know you that well,” you admitted, your voice quieter now, more hesitant. “And this bond… it’s a lot to take in. I was so worried about Elain’s feelings that I didn’t even stop to think about how I felt. About how to navigate this.”

Azriel’s expression softened further, and he took a careful step closer, making sure not to crowd you. “I understand. The bond is… overwhelming, especially when it comes out of nowhere. And I know we don’t know each other well yet, but that’s something we can work on. We don’t have to rush into anything, Y/N. We can take this one step at a time, if that’s what you need.”

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze fully for the first time since the bond had snapped. There was no pressure in his eyes, no demand—just a quiet patience that made your heart ache with a strange mix of relief and something else, something warmer.

“But… what if this doesn’t work?” you asked, your voice small, the fear you had been trying to suppress finally finding its way out. “What if I can’t be what you need?”

Azriel’s eyes softened even more, and he shook his head gently. “Y/N, you don’t have to be anything but yourself. The bond doesn’t demand perfection—it’s just a connection, a starting point. We figure the rest out together.”

You swallowed, feeling the sincerity in his words. The fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of your mind, but it was tempered now by something else—a tentative hope that maybe, just maybe, this could work.

“Okay,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him, but Azriel caught it nonetheless.

He smiled softly, his wings shifting slightly as if in relief. “Okay,” he echoed. “One step at a time.”

For a moment, you both stood there in the quiet of the kitchen, the bond humming faintly between you. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t without its complications, but it was something. And for the first time since the bond had snapped, you felt like maybe you could handle this—together.

Azriel extended his hand, not as a demand, but as an offer. “How about we start with something simple? A walk, maybe? Just to talk, get to know each other.”

You hesitated for a moment, the anxiety still lingering, but then you nodded slowly, reaching out to take his hand. His grip was warm, reassuring, and as his fingers closed around yours, you felt a little of that fear ease away.

“Yeah,” you agreed, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “A walk sounds good.”

And as you both stepped out of the kitchen, hand in hand, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe—just maybe—this was the beginning of something worth taking a chance on.

#azriel fic #rhysand #azriel #cassian #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #sword #a court of thorns and roses #acotar series #acotar fanfiction #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar x reader #acotar x you #elain

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g1rld1ary · 4 months

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lifeguard!james x reader

cw: reader is HORNY sorry guys (i'm on my period I can't be held accountable), swearing, excessive sexual innuendos, implied fem!reader but no pronouns I think

part 2

wc: 1055

you'd always been a strong swimmer, but merlin maybe you'd be ok with water in your lungs if the new lifeguard would put his mouth on yours to get it out. lily snorted when you voiced that thought, but you weren't going to apologise.

the new lifeguard was hot, and you were pretty sure it wasn't part-of-the-job-description-hot (though the swim shorts and seat up in the lifeguard's tower was certainly helping), he literally looked like a greek god, brown skin and dark inky curls that you wanted desperately to tug on. suddenly it wasn't just the pool that was wet...

the public pool was your staple with the girls, it had been since you were kids. it was pretty much the only way to stay cool in your shitty town, and the summers only seemed to get hotter as you got older. you'd never seen this boy before though, and you probably wouldn't be surprised if he'd literally descended down from heaven.

you tried to tune into their gossip, reaching for another ice lolly from the ice box, grinning when you got your favourite flavour. you nodded at whatever mary was saying about the party sirius was throwing in a few weeks; she had a new slinky dress she was dying to wear but was weighing up whether there were going to be enough fit boys there for it to be worth wearing. gazing across the pool distractedly, you happened to catch the lifeguard's eye, rolling your eyes when he sent you a cheeky wink. so he knows he's hot you thought, shifting your weight in the beach chair.

you weren't going to give him the satisfaction of openly ogling him, sliding the oversized sunglasses down your face until he couldn't see your eyes, contributing your thoughts on mary's plight.

when you caught the lifeguard stealing glances at you you couldn't help your delight, satisfied it wasn't a one-way attraction. plus, it was summer, you could afford to have some fun. you sucked on your ice lolly, loving the way his eyes kept darting back between you and the swimmers he was supposed to be watching. when you were sure you had his attention you let the treat sit on your lips, accidentally letting a few droplets of syrup roll down your chin, continuing their journey down your chest and beneath your bikini top.

at the boy's bright red flush you couldn't contain a smirk, loving the way it contrasted with his deep tan. by now your friends had caught on to your little show, all giggling as they watched teenage sexual frustration in action.

"you are such a slag," marlene scoffed, but you could see her amused smile behind it. you just shrugged, continuing to command the boy's attention with the popsicle. none of the boys you knew were half decent compared to the mysterious new lifeguard, why shouldn't you give him a proper welcome to town?

the fuss had died down after a while, all four of you quietening down as you tanned. you were almost drifting off into a sun-induced sleep when an unfamiliar voice spoke from near the pool.

"are all the girls around here this fit, or did I just get lucky?" you cracked one eye open to see the lifeguard standing between your four deck chairs, but his eyes were locked on yours. a glance to your right showed the rest of your friends sitting up to greet him, giggling in the way you all knew was because he was totally fit.

"does that usually work?" lily asked and you snorted a laugh, lying back down to continue your tan (and maybe so he got a good view of your underboob).

"it's never hurt," the boy said, surprisingly good-natured.

"where did you come from?" mary redirected, and you listened with interest despite your appearance.

"i'm from up north. my family just moved here and I already had the qualification, so I figured it wouldn't be a bad way to spend the summer while I had no friends." your friends made a noise at that, asking more questions about him. you were surprised at his seemingly honest friendliness, most of the guys you knew would rather die than come off dorky and friendless, but when it was this boy it seemed endearing.

"i'm james, by the way," he said, and the girls all introduced themselves as you remained silent, content to listen and lay in the sun.

as late afternoon sun began to run low you started to pack your things, dazed and content from your sunbathing. you made quiet conversation with lily about dinner plans, pulling up your denim cutoffs around your hips.

james caught up to your group as you were leaving the public pool.

"it was nice meeting you girls today, will I see you around more often this summer?" mary answered for the lot of you, confirming you visited more often than not on hot days.

"shit else to do," you added with a small laugh.

"i didn't catch your name?" james replied, leaning against the wire fence, giving you ample opportunity to admire the way his bicep flexed under his weight. were your knees weak or did you have sunstroke?

"i didn't throw it." a smile played on your lips, and your periphery caught lily turning to leave, knowing your game too well. james looked genuinely shocked for a fleeting moment, then covered it with a playful groan, miming a knife twisting in his stomach.

"you wound me!" he cried, "i burn, i pine, i perish!"

"alright there, shakespeare," you laughed, somewhat put off by the reference, but not deterred -- you could do brains, "you heard mary, you'll see me around. guess you'll just have to earn it." james brightened at that, the thought of a challenge evidently exciting him.

"oh sweetheart, just wait till you're riding my surfboard."

"that was horrendous," you said, fighting embarrassingly hard to keep from smiling.

"oh come on," he grinned, running a hand through his mop of curls, "not worthy of your name?"

"not a chance in hell." you gave him one last look over -- something he was positively delighted about -- before turning on your heel to catch up with your friends, brushing off their teasing as you thought of the hot new lifeguard you'd be visiting the pool for.

ok im lowkey obsessed with lifeguard!james rn so if u have any requests please send them over bc I would love to write more for him

#giasfics˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀#love #fluff #james potter #james potter x y/n #the marauders #marauders #marauders era #hp marauders #dead gay wizards #james potter fluff #james potter x you #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #lifeguard!james #lifeguard james #lifeguard!james potter #harry potter

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denjjisgf · 8 months

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SHE LIVES IN MY LAP

megumi fushiguro x reader

SYNOPSIS ✧˚⋆｡ in an unexpected turn of events, you find yourself falling into the sheets with a new friend. as the days get shorter and nights no longer sticky and hot, your insatiable summer hookup appears to be more than just a seasonal arrangement.

CONTENT WARNINGS✧˚⋆｡ general: 18+ minors dni, alcohol consumption, megumi is a fuckboy sex!! minors dni!!! nsfw: afab (she/her) reader, vaginal sex, oral (m&f! receiving), 69ing, m! masturbation

W/C✧˚⋆｡9.1k

AUTHOR'S NOTE✧˚⋆｡ hihi! it's been so long since i've written anything. this a repost of a series i decided to scrap, i've decided to come back from the dead to finish it in a one- shot! i hope everyone likes it __〆(￣ー￣ )

playlist

JUNE✧˚⋆

notification center:

[ suguru:: we’ll be there in ten. make sure to bring sunscreen! ]

[ satoru:: and make sure to wear something skimpy ;) ]

you set down your phone with huff, trying to suppress a chuckle at your friends. checking the time one last time, you scramble to get the last of your things, tossing everything and anything in your bag. three rasps at the door stops you in your tracks, your sandal clad feet patter to your front door as you wonder who could possibly be here. standing in the frame was gojo, forearm lazily propped against the wood, leaning into you with a proud look on his face.

“you guys said ten minutes, it’s been three, satoru. i’m still not ready.”

cerulean eyes peer down at you over gojo’s staple circle frames, a smug smile adorning his face as he gives you a quick up and down look. “well, good thing you still have time to change. i said skimpy, i know you can do better,” he says with a smile and mocking tone. almost as if it was rehearsed, the lanky silver fox’s partner in crime pops his head out behind gojo’s shoulder. “don’t be mean satoru!” suguru says with a playful slap on gojo’s shoulder. “you look great, y/n. let’s head out!”

the car ride to the docks is just as you had expected: chaotic. the two men argued the entire way, each one convinced they knew the best way to a place they have never been too. and at gojo’s instance, the three of you ended up taking a twenty minute detour in the wrong direction. when you finally pull into the dirt parking lot, suguru turns in his seat to face you in the backseat, “we’re here,” he says, a hand scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “sorry about the confusion earlier. satoru said he looked up directions before we left, but i should’ve known better than to trust him.”

“what are you talking about? look! we are here!” gojo’s exclaims pridefully, swinging open his door and stepping out. he stretches, hands linking together over his head with a sigh, his loose t-shirt raising just a little to expose his milky white skin and toned body. “and it’s all thanks to my great directional skills.”

your door opens suddenly, suguru’s head peeking inside wearing his gentle and familiar smile, linking his arm with yours to pull you out of the backseat. “so,” you turn to suguru questioningly, “how exactly do you two know these people?”

instead, gojo replies, quick and concise. sneaky almost. “close friends. we go way back. i practically raised those kids, taught ‘em everything they know.” suguru snickers at his friend’s words, the pair exchanging a dangerous glance that, if you didn’t know them as well as you did, you would’ve missed. “almost a little too well, if you asked me,” the dark hair man added, lips upturned into an innocent smile, but eyes deadly and secretive. all too knowing if you said so yourself. the two men continued on the path towards the docks where the party was being held, long strides keeping themselves paces ahead of you, ending the conversation abruptly.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you shout expectantly, patiently waiting for an answer, but dying on the inside to know. suguru stops in his tracks, head looking over his shoulder and gaze falling on your own.

“what’s the fun in telling you now?”

ᰔ summer was megumi’s favorite time of year. it always brought his favorite things: reckless decisions and girls in bikinis. he made a sport of feeding hot girls sugar sweet words like frozen strawberry daiquiris, serenading them into his bed night after night. his friends’ annual summer kickoff party was his ideal playing field, so many people, so many choices, he never knows where to start.

you see, there are several factors that went into the tradition of their party. now that he and nobara left for college, yuuji, commuting locally, prepared the get to together in their arrival. a proper summer kickout. on the surface level, it appeared to be a fun, festive way for people to get shitfaced, washing away the stress and anxiety of finals with clear liquor and cheap beer, but for megumi, it was so much more than that. when summer finally rolls around, the heat melts off layers of clothes, making everyone hot and bothered in other ways besides the weather. it’s everyone’s fantasy to have a silver screen summer fling, after all, no one wants to spend the hottest time of year alone. this party was the perfect setting for lonely women to lay some groundwork and find the perfect rent-a-boyfriend for three months. and what’s better than horny, hopeful women?, megumi thought.

megumi plays his role of the cool, calm, and collected silent guy like a pro, having girls all on him or stealing glances and fluttering their lashes when he comes around. he smiles to himself, scrolling through the new additions to his contacts list. the familiar ring of laughter causes his ears to perk up, raising his head to find the friendly faces of gojo and suguru. trailing behind them was someone he had never met.

who, are you?

his stare drifted to meet gojo’s, the white haired man pushing his sunglasses down to the bridge of his nose and raising an eyebrow with a taunting smirk. megumi didn’t need words to know what gojo was telling him- come say hello, i know you want to. he turns to face the other direction, legs moving to walk as far away from you before curiosity gets the best of him and he caves into gojo’s all too tempting game.

nursing a solo cup filled with god knows what, megumi stalks you the entire party. he can’t seem to take his eyes off you, being short and brash when girls come up to him, focus completely astray and only on you. his eyes widen, swallowing thickly as he watches suguru and gojo tug and pull at your coverup, nudging you to undress and get in the water with them. gojo pulls your hands into his own, holding them up above your head. he yanks you closer, bringing your face inches from his own causing you to recoil into suguru’s chest, ass pressed firmly to the front of his hips. turning to look his younger friend dead in the eyes, the smallest glint of daring challenge reflecting in suguru’s dilating pupils, fingers teasingly playing with the hem of your sundress.

megumi glares. hard. jealousy disguised as irritation, his jaw ticks at the spectacle his friends are putting on. regardless, he feels himself get warm, fidgeting with the collar of a shirt that he wasn’t wearing and readjusting the discomfort in his swim trunks. he watches, making eye contact with suguru, who has long since abandoned his hovering position and settled below you, face in front of your ass. large hands slide the flowy fabric up your thighs, bunching it at the tops of your hips and sliding a finger under the waistband of your bikini bottoms, snapping it against your skin. you gasp at the sudden smack to your sensitive skin, your mouth making a pretty o shape that has megumi’s eyes rolling. “oops, my bad i didn't mean to snag you there,” the dark haired man purrs, soothing the sting with a careful rub. you shove the two of them away, a scowl dressed on your face, “i can undress myself without the help of you idiots. what are you doing?” despite your tone, megumi can clearly see your frazzled state, red blush spread across your cheeks and chest.

you dirty girl, i bet you liked that, huh?

megumi’s mind was running a hundred miles an hour. he couldn’t stand to be here anymore. you had long abandoned your dress and your bathing suit left little to the imagination. the straps of your top digging into your neck, triangles cover the bare minimum of your breasts leaving them spilling out the sides. sitting down in a lounger, he faked innocence, sunglasses set high on the bridge of his nose to cover his wandering eyes. he kept a close eye on you throughout the party, observing the way your body moved as you danced, as you emerged from the water, wet and dripping.

the last straw was when suguru and gojo convinced you to join them at the makeshift bar on the shore. the two men took turns mixing you drinks in plastic cups, laughing at your pinched face as you downed drink after drink, the bitter taste of alcohol making you stick your pretty, pink tongue out in disgust. yet, you continued to take cups from your friends, enjoying the light fuzziness and lowered inhibitions taking over your body. raising your cup to you lips, suguru tipped the bottom to make you down the contents, the burning sensation of liquor running down your throat and trickling out of the corners of your shiny lips. long slender fingers pluck the plastic cup from your hands with a chuckle, “woahh, slow down there. you’re making an awful mess of yourself.” gojo tilts your face up to his own and checks to make sure megumi is watching. he brings his thumb to swipe away the remnants of the sticky liquid running down your chin and licks it off his finger. that’s it, megumi thought, standing up from his seat to leave the party, his nerves beyond irritated from his friend’s incessant dick measuring.

“yo! megumi!” yuuji calls out, running towards his raven haired friend. “do me a favor and run up the road to get some ice bags! the beers are drowning in warm water right now,” with a firm grasp on your wrist, the energetic boy spins you away from your conversation and straight into a stranger with a thud. your hand laid flat against the expanse of their chest, holding yourself steady from yuuji’s previous uncontrolled movements.

“i even found you a buddy to go with you! megumi, meet y/n.”

“it’s, uhm-” he falters, hints of crimson bashfully spread over his cheeks, conscious of the heat your palm emanates onto his bare skin, manicured nails scratching lightly over his peck and sending shivers down his spine. he felt like a fool, finally getting the opportunity to have you and all he can do is fumble over his words. your doe eyes were wide and glossy from the alcohol, and what only you know as desire. looking into his eyes, dark and narrowed, attention solely focused on you, you feel yourself get hot. shy almost. you chalk it up to being tipsy bordering on drunk.

“c’mon bro, take the keys,” the jingle of car keys cut short as megumi brings his hand up to catch the lanyard haphazardly tossed at him. “now hurry up! everyone’s waiting!” megumi rolls his eyes and takes your hand in his own, dragging you towards the parking lot. “hold on, let me tell my friends i’m leaving! what if you kill me or something?”

“don’t worry about it, gojo and geto were invited here by me. you’ll be fine.” you stop in your tracks, almost losing your balance in the soft sand, “wait, so you’re the one who invited us.”

“invited them, you mean. just,” he sighs with frustration,”let’s go, i want to get there and back.” he drops your hand and begins to walk away, leaving you in his shadow. “are you coming or not?” he asks, looking over his shoulder, low eyes and the smallest of smiles, willful temptation written all over his face.

“yea. i’m coming.”

leaving a few steps of space between yourselves, megumi leads you through the maze of the parking lot. stopping at a car you can only assume as yuuji’s, you watch the dark haired boy squeeze his way to the passenger’s side door and opening it. “i’ve been drinking, i really shouldn’t drive.”

he sighs, shoulders dropping in exasperation as if he can’t believe the words that just came out of your mouth. in an instant, you feel his hand wrapped delicately around your wrist, fingers hovering over your pulse point, your heart beating faster as he slides you front of him and ushers you into the seat. he leans into you, faces inches from yours and eye contact never breaking. for just a moment, the two of you drink in the sights of each other. you admire the faint scatter of sun blessed freckles on the bridge of his nose, the curvature of his lips, soft and slightly pouted. and in this moment, you can’t help but find him attractive. just for a moment though.

“don’t you think i know that? you practically crawled on all fours to catch up.”

he moves swiftly, pulling the seat belt over your lap, clicking it into place. you look to the side, avoiding his stare and he can do everything but ignore the subtle pink dusting across the highpoints of your face, the smallest of indents forming as you bit the inside of your cheek, deep in thought. you were bothered by his words and he loved it. something about seeing you like this, annoyed and bothered. he needed to see more. as wrong as it was, he was losing it, he could feel himself being pushed to the edge, the threads of intricate control being snipped, leaving him loose and fraying. megumi loved his flirtatious games too much, but needed more time to pull you apart, like lovesick girls do to flowers, petal after petal till nothing was left. bare.

“too tight?” he asks. you shake your head, unable to speak, words unspoken on your tongue and thoughts void from you mind, plucked away by his nimble touch and wrapped around his finger. “let’s go then.”

ᰔ “soo,” his hand meets to back of your headrest. “do you like to cuddle?” he cranes his neck, hooded eyes low and lazy as he searches the back windshield, reversing from the parking spot.

your faces twists with displeasement, jaw dropped and eyebrows knitted together, “what kind of fucking question is that?”

“the kind of question to get you to make that face,” his voice honeyed and teasing as he counters your expected response. silence fills the car, satisfaction spread out in a small smile and slightly crinkled eyes as megumi soaks in your frazzled reaction. he likes to see you irritated, to push your buttons. megumi likes to toy with headstrong women, to make them whining messes for an arrogant man. an asshole. you could practically hear the winning bell ring: megumi, one. his game of banter beginning with your speechless defeat.

but he was gorgeous. his hair dark and perfectly messy, his bangs swooped low enough to shape his face but show off his eyes. colored like a storm, you could stare into them for hours. the summer sun did his justice, his tanned skin glistening under its magnification. a physique of the gods, you try not to stare and he pretended not to notice.

you settle into your seat, the alcohol catching up and sending your head spinning. watching out the window, you fall into your thoughts, figuring out a way to break the silence. “so what’s your deal?” you exclaim, folding your hands into your lap and turning to look at megumi, focused on the road and contently ignoring you. “i know you have so much going on inside that pretty little head of yours.”

“y’know, i saw you drink a lot, maybe you should stop talking and save these questions for later? maybe when you’re sober?”

you roll your head to your shoulder to turn to him with small smirk. oh, so he wants to be like that, “and i saw you talking to a lot of girls, maybe you should stop being a slut?”

he chuckles, side eyeing you with a playful glare and a tick in his jaw, clearly enjoying the banter. “i bet you think you’re real funny.”

“and you must think you’re cute. we all have our flaws, megumi.”

he slides his palm along the wheel, turning into a parking spot and bringing the car to a stop. he hops out of the driver’s side, jogging around front of the car and opens your door. he follows you over to the white cooler in the front of the convenience store where you play with the padlock, the hinges creaking as pull the handle open.

reaching into the ice cooler you tug on the bag relentlessly. megumi brings his hand to grip onto the door’s frame, leaning in behind you, his breath shallow and warm against the shell of your ear. “do you need help?” the sheeted ice cementing the plastic down to the bottom of the container loosens as it cracks, “from you? no thanks.” you lean down into the cooler to yank on the bag with better leverage, determined to prove a point: you did not need help, and you didn’t need megumi either. the plastic tears from the bag and your hand flies up causing you to stumble backwards, banging your head on the roof of ice box. you yelp, quick to bring a hand up to your throbbing head, wincing at the touch. you turn to lean your back against the cool metal only to be met by megumi, who takes the opportunity to get closer, his hands cupping your face with concern. he makes room for himself between your legs, inching closer to you, “are you alright? does it hurt?”

he leans in closer as he flits his gaze from your eyes to your lips as if he’s done this a million times.

it all happens so fast. you blink and he’s rushing you, pressing his lips firmly against your own. you tug at his shirt, opening your mouth when he runs his tongue over your bottom lip tantalizing slow, tasting you thoroughly. you both walk backwards, lost in the kiss, until you feels the hood of the car hit the back of your calves. you break away from each other panting lightly, your hand caressing alongside his jaw and his own planted firmly on your waist. you nod your head, motioning towards the car and he smiles.

he can’t keep his hands off of you. his hand scrambles to open the door, too distracted by the curves of your body, missing the handle a few times. you grab onto his shoulder, ushering him a few steps forward, pushing him in front of you to make room for the door as it swings open. “get inside,” he whispers shakily. his mind is racing, his voice long gone of its normal confidence to command.

you fall back, your skin making contact with the leather, hot to the touch and sticking to your sweat sheened back. you run your fingers through his hair as lowers to meet you, his knee bent between your legs, one hand parting your thighs, inviting himself in. scrambling back to make room, you seat yourself back pressed against the inside door. his hand comes up to the window with a slap, bracing himself above of you. your hand cradles his face, your thumb stroking along his jaw, before enveloping his lips with yours once again. you taste sweet like peaches, hints of tequila on your tongue as you take turns welcoming each other into your mouths. you mimic his breathless moans of pleasure and fill the car with your whines, your hips colliding with his thigh as you mindlessly grind against him. your kisses become sloppy, teeth gnashing and spit everywhere, desperation and need filling both of you to the brim.

clutching his shirt in your fist, you use the momentum to push him into seat position, swinging one knee over his leg, and grounding yourself in his lap. he kisses you feverishly, his head light and spinning, completely overwhelmed by the intoxicating taste of you. adrenaline coursed through his veins at your movements, hips grinding slowly on top of him, relieving the pain of his aching cock. you thread your hands through his hair, carding through his soft locs before tugging his head back to expose his neck. a moan slips from his lips, pink, spit slicked and swollen while you smear kisses on his collarbone. he paws at your chest, he pulls your breasts out from your bikini top, taking a moment to admire you.

“you’re so hot. i haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you since i saw you,” he groans, a palm pressed to the small of your back he leans into you, taking your nipple into his mouth. you bring a hand up to rest on the crown of his head, moans spilling from your lips, coaxing him to continue. he eats up all of you. mentally recording every inch of your body, every cry sounding heaven in his ears, just to shamelessly replay this moment for his convenience. his hips cant with yours, messily grinding for relief when he reaches to pull his trunks down. “m-megumi, wait,” you plead and cup his face with both hands. he stops, panting between the valley of your chest, catching his breath while nuzzling against you. “not now, not here.”

the two of you drove back to the lake in silence. separately your thoughts run wild at what just happened. pulling into a parking spot, megumi turns to you in the passenger’s seat, mouth agape slightly, the words you both want to hear on the tip of his tongue. he needs to see you again. the last thing megumi had expected this morning was to share a heated makeout session in the backseat of his best friend’s car with a borderline stranger. he never acts out of impulse, every decision thought out and calculated with precision. what you both had done crossed so many lines in megumi’s mind. honestly, what was he thinking?! it was broad daylight, parked in front of a mini convenience shop, while on a trip the two of you managed to stretch 20 minutes longer than it should have. he should be racked with guilt. he should be ashamed of his lack of self control. and if he was smarter, he should have never agreed to leave with you when yuuji asked. but something festered deep inside him, flipping up every stone of reason and leaving the boy on his hands and knees, grasping at the cool, level-headed persona he once had down to a t.

twisting your head slightly, you scanned his face, searching for a clue- anything- to what he might say next. your fingers drummed on the car door, suddenly self conscious under his scrutinizing gaze. almost as if he sensed your discomfort, megumi drops his head down low to meet your eyes, a feather light slide of his fingers under your chin to draw you closer. a breath stops dead in your throat at his close proximity, noses grazing against one another as his takes his lower lip in between his teeth before looking sideways out the windshield. yuuji comes barreling at you two with an open smile, two cans held sloppily in both hands.

“‘s about time! what took so long? were you guys fucking or something?” he stutters out, a drunken flush to his sun kissed skin. megumi chokes at his friend’s comment, his adam’s apple bobbing nervously and guilt so obviously displayed on his face. you elbow him, motioning to grab the bags of ice in the backseat. you watch his arm reach down, the muscles in his bicep and forearms flexing deliciously, making your head spin and the dull throb of your arousal grow steadily. you have got to get out of this car. it was hard enough to keep your hands off of him in the parking lot earlier, but he was just too close. too accessible. too desirable. the things you wanted to do to him, the positions you wanted to bend into for him making you swoon.

lost in your daydreams, you had failed to notice yuuji’s perplexed face and megumi’s shameful pout, like a puppy that chewed up its owner’s shoe, the energy now tense. “we forgot to buy the ice.”

ᰔ the worst part about apartment buildings are the thin walls. unfortunately for the neighbors of megumi’s current conquest and tomorrow’s history, they are the ones being royally screwed over that evening. bangs and thuds came from mutually sharing walls and laminate wood flooring belonging to a girl whose name megumi can’t seem to remember. rolling off her body and over onto the sheets, megumi stares up at the ceiling, a blank expression worn on his face.

a hand creeps up his chest, a singular finger dragging up over the valley of his abs and scratching lightly over his chest teasingly. his mind begins to race, arousal causing his dick to twitch under the thin cotton sheets. megumi is no stranger to scores of nail shapes and crescents on his skin, littering his body, but this time, it just feels…well, it feels wrong. since your encounter the other day, he hasn’t been able to get you off his mind, his body buzzing with the excitement of a chase, of someone who won’t cave in right away and give him what he wants, of someone different. the physical gesture of the woman lying besides him so genuine can’t be anything but superficial when it’s your handprint branded into his skin instead.

as soon as light snores fill the room, megumi rises from the bed, picking up his scattered clothes, eyes adjusting to dark. his phone buzzes on the nightstand next to him, the low vibration close to inaudible, but his ears pique up in anticipation. the screen illuminates a long awaited text message from an unknown number followed by another incoming notification; “come over.”

he had begged gojo and geto days ago for your number, swallowing his pride and stooping low to get the chance to see you again. at first, they had told him no, savoring the moment of keeping you their little secret and away from their junior’s prying eyes and wandering hands. it wasn’t often that the two had something megumi couldn’t. but after some calculated bribery and forced compliments and praise, gojo had slid your contact card into megumi’s messages. he had texted you immediately, too impatient to wait any longer and all too eager to get you underneath him, but his only response was a delivered text and empty chat.

copying the address you sent, he pastes it into the maps app on his phone, his fingers shaking, adrenaline and desire replacing the blood in his pounding heart and sending it straight to his head. he’s delirious, head spinning and eyes blown out from lust. he feels like a teenage boy again, completely void of control and arousal raging throughout his entire body, consuming him whole. grabbing his keys, he opens the front door of the apartment and takes off.

JULY✧˚⋆

ᰔ you’re deep into summer now, the buzz of power lines gentle while the world spins on around you. everyone has settled into the season, your city now booming with vacationers– seasonal and first timers– while locals stick to tradition. you love it, the late night bonfires, the crowds along the pier, seasonal fruit stands and sunrises. july is a constant stream of life and excitement, you thrive in the feeling of endless possibilities.

shortly after the first time megumi pulled up to your place, he found himself tapping his homescreen, waiting for your texts nightly. you’d call for him and he would show up, the gas tank full and heart beating fast. he’d drive you to the not so secret secret look out spot, a perfect view of the valley and the lake, before unfolding you in the backseat with lust alone. yet only he knows this himself, deep down, that megumi would’ve gladly ripped open his chest and handed you his heart if it meant you could stay by his side in the eternal summer heat.

over the past month, you realized you hadn’t learned much about megumi. you knew he was simple. liked what he liked and didn’t what he didn’t. he never did stuff he didn't want to do, but acted selflessly at times. he was smart, always the most intelligent person in the room, for better or for worse. there was an unnerving edge to the man’s impenetrable walls that irritated you. despite the lack of intimate exchanges of emotion, you could no longer deny the feelings you had when you were with him. you had to tell him.

you couldn’t shake the fear of everything crashing and burning, your heart being stomped on when you inevitably find megumi buried in another person. he shamelessly used women, gardening a persona of the stoic playboy while away at college. if someone asked for proof, he’s got more than enough ‘are you up?’ messages and shameless videos reeking from his phone, the stench of his sexual conquests known without the visuals. he’s been spending so much time with you. he wouldn’t have the time to be messing around with other people, right? you tell yourself. just have fun, it’s a fling. it’s just sex. nothing more… right?

most nights, you’re straddling megumi in the driver's seat, one hand bracing yourself on the wheel, the other sliding against the center console, and both of you moaning at the sight of you slowly sinking down on his cock.

“god, you feel so good. this all for me?” he slurs at the warm hug your pussy greets him with, “just accept it, this filthy pussy is mine.” he fucks you open with precision, molding your insides to fit him and only him. you pant, your lips open in the prettiest shape and drool collecting in your mouth while the stretch of him burns just right. veins prominent like he’s pumping iron, he grips on the fat of your hips to hold you up, your legs shaking while you slam down to meet his hips halfway. everything is so lewd, sweat perspirated on your foreheads and pressed together to breathe the same air. your eyes meet and he whines, the slapping sound of his balls hitting your ass fills the car.

leaning back a little, you arch your back and let the moonlight bathe you from the foggy windshield. the coolness of the air relieves you from heat of his body moments before. he’s slowed down now, pushing his cock up to bury itself deeper inside of you with a slow grind. bringing his hand up to smack your tit hard, he leaves you red before smoothing away the pain with a tug on your nipple. a free hand finds comfort on your back while he takes your breast it into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and nipping playfully when he pulls away. meeting your gaze, megumi’s dick throbs inside you at the sight and you feel him thicken and speed up his pace.

“ah! o-oh my,” you’re cut short by the graze of his teeth along your bare chest, ghosting bites and leaving wet kisses. your walls coax him in with every thrust. you’re close and he’s gone, you feel him chasing after his orgasm as he draws you closer to yours.

“megumi please- don’t stop! right there, megumi, -ah!”

megumi moans, ropes of hot cum spilling over his hands as he falls back his pillows. it’s been a week since you’ve texted him. it’s been a week since that time in the car and he’s still chasing that feeling of your slick dripping down his dick while you squeezed him of everything he’s got. he feels unsatisfied while he takes a tissue and cleans himself, longing for your tongue wrapping around him, swallowing the load he haphazardly tosses into the wastebin.

raking his hands through his hair, loose strands fall back to cover his eyes, and he searches his bedsheets for his phone. chains of messages and attachments crowded his notification center but none from you. he was disinterested in everyone but you; he thought about you constantly, wondering what you were doing at any given moment. he was infatuated and beyond annoyed. why are you suddenly playing hard to get? why do i miss you so much?

he never worked this hard, he was overly confident in his skills of making women scream and curl in his hands. but your quiet remarks of praise, the smallest “yes, megumi” or “megumi it feels so good” he’d do anything to hear that breathy tone you used just for him. now it’s been a week and he’s starting to miss you more than ever.

ᰔ everyone has their favorite time of day. there are people that chase dawn like a dream and those who thrive in the mid hours. there are people who wait, soaking in the maturity of time till the late hours. and yours, were the times of day you laid in bed with megumi.

a few midnight dates later, the boundary between you two was redrawn as megumi chased your up the stairs to your place. after a long night of 21 questions and the pad of mad libs you bought together now complete, you had settled into the car seats with heads turned to share a gaze for what felt like an infinity. summer lived around you, the sounds of insects and faint traffic in the background but inside the car with megumi, you were forever frozen. his phone chimes and the moment faded under the fluorescent light. “do you want to get that?” you asked, looking at the phone and back at him.

“no. not really.” he reached for your hand, flipping it so his palm is flat against yours. locking eyes with your own, he spoke softly, “i was wondering if i could stay the night.”

graduating from the backseat, the two of you learned your bodies moved in sync, following the same mess of footsteps in the hall and onto your bed. he spun his hands over every inch of your body, devoted all night and getting lost in you as if it was the first time all over again. afterwards you’d laugh hours into in the morning, waking to outstretch in an empty bed, wondering what time he left this time.

from the very night you slid into his passenger seat, you were trapped. locked in by seatbelt, megumi became the driver of your summer’s escapade. night after night, days turned weeks, you grew to purr for the sound of his engine pulling up to the street in front of your house. his smile, those words of adoration he lets slip when you touch on him just the way he likes. what was once playful was treading dangerous waters. you chewed the cherry stem of your milkshake and woke up in the concerned look drawn on gojo’s face.

“have anything you wanna share with the group?” he teased, gesturing to the empty booth. you two would take a break in the week to catch up and meet at your favorite diner. normally it was all jokes and gossip. you made it a rule not to talk to gojo about his friends, the messy group being a tense subject for him at times, a can of worms that explodes into angst and a soured mood. you felt off based to talk to him about megumi, since all you know about their relationship is that it’s rocky. but a part of you is dying for solace and gojo knows megumi better than anyone, so you decide to take a chance.

“i’m worried my feelings for megumi are more than a crush.” gojo looks up at you quick, surprised by your forthright response. “oh, we’re getting straight into it,” he pushes his drink out of the way and folds his hands attentive on the table, grinning like a fool. you hadn’t talked to him about megumi since he asked for permission to give the man your number. “shut up, you asked- and it’s not like it’s love or anything! we’ve only been hooking up, y’know, here and there.” you ramble, filling the silence with excuses and filler, dancing around what you truly mean to say. gojo could see right through you. the truth was, you did love megumi. you wanted to be with megumi more than anything.

“what if this isn’t just a summer fling?” you voice goes soft, breaking at the smallest words, “what if i’ve gone and fallen for the guy who was supposed to be temporary?” when you were with him, you felt so good, so real, something you had never felt before. the sex was incredible, but looking past that, things were different now from before. the situationship you signed up for was different. small talk turned playful in the late nights. suddenly, you were texting each other good night and awaiting at the photos he’d send at work or smiling with yuuji and nobara while hanging out, letting you know he was busy, but couldn’t wait to see you that night.

“are you sure you want to get into something serious with that certified hoe? you can never trust them when they leave for school,” your friend laughs at his joke and you smile small. gojo can be nothing more than an antagonist at times, an echo of the voices screaming at you to end things with megumi. maybe they are right, you think. “but maybe you should just talk to him.”

AUGUST✧˚⋆

ᰔ on day eight of radio silence from you, megumi broke his double texting rule and asked you to hangout. he was driving himself crazy, no longer able to stand the silence without you. he stared at the empty chat, hovering over the unsend button when three bubbles appeared on the screen.

i’m free around 7. i think we should talk

talk?, he thought, what would we be talking about? he panicked, you must’ve met someone else. you were leaving him even though there was nothing to truly leave. ever since megumi has met you, his entire world has turned upside down, unable to find his heartbeat steady around you. at first it was lust, he couldn’t help but crave your touch. but as he tries to ease himself of this foreign feeling, megumi realizes his mistake.

your relationship had thrived off the simplicity of no strings attached, free from lingering feelings and unrequited love. but somewhere along the way, megumi got lost in tangled limbs and soiled sheets. you had woven every fiber of your being into a tight leash around his neck, reeling him back in every time. he wanted you to think he was a changed man. he is a changed man! he smooths his hands down his pants and sent you a short response back. he was determined to see you later that evening ready to convince you the best place for you was in his lap, with him. forever.

you eyed the clock with dread, each tick crawling unbearably slow as you wait for megumi to arrive. when he texted earlier, you felt your stomach drop. after unintentionally ghosting him, you didn’t expect him to text you. it had been over a week since you had left his message unread, hoping he would get the hint and all your blossoming feelings would fade away with the memories of him in the fall.

so in the hour prior to his arrival, you pep talked in the mirror, you made lists of pro and cons, and battled with yourself on how to tell megumi you couldn’t see him anymore. when he got there, you were going to be firm and assertive, and tell him that you simply were not interested anymore! you were going to be honest about you feelings and lay all cards on the table, despite your anxiety saying otherwise. it was the mature thing to do, you told yourself.

when you open the door, megumi is on you, swallowing you whole by taking his head into your hands and locking your lips with his. he pushes you out of the door frame and the entire time you’re welcoming him deeper into your mouth. he kissed you with a thousand words of love and hoped you got the message. you break the kiss, lightly panting against his mouth. his hands were still holding your head close to his own, keeping you close and in arms reach.

“it’s been eight days,” he says low. “where have you been?” you’re surprised. from his initial kiss at the door to this now sudden care and concern. you search his eyes for clues and turned up empty. he was as distant as ever with a hint of fear swirling in his dark eyes, leaving you shrinking into your skin. he walked forward and you stepped back, moving further into the hall. meguimi’s arm reaches to block your passage in the hall, cornering you towards your bedroom. “well? are you gonna answer?” your heart quickens, all of your preplanned speeches disappearing from your mind when he’s looming over you. is he angry?

you’ve reached your bedroom, the door ajar. “i- i didn’t know how to tell you. can we talk please?” you sputter out, nervous now that he’s got you trapped against the door frame. megumi’s brows are knit together and his nostrils flare in irritation, you’ve never seen him angry, much less upset. his eyes looked cloudy and you desperately yearned to reverse time. you’re stepping into the dark room and he follows.

from the moment the door shuts, he’s tearing yours and his clothes off and pushing you onto the bed. he’s more eager than normal, his pants tight from his erection and hands shaking just slightly. he takes ahold of your chin and ushers you into a kiss, shimming out your pants. you slide a hand to his cheek and let his tongue meld with yours. “i don’t want to talk right now,” he says like a secret. he exhales and lets his mouth shift to smear open mouthed kisses against yours and down your neck. you lift your arms up to let him take off your shirt, catching you as you fall back to the bed. he pulls off his own and lowers himself to kiss down your chest.

he suckles on your skin, love bites and bruises swelling in his wake, while his grip is tight on your waist, dragging your hips against his erection and guiding your legs to wrap around his body. he looks up at you with pleading eyes,“ just let me love you. one last time,” he breaths against your tummy, hugging your middle tight. you feel heat bloom in your gut, your walls clenching under his gaze. you look away, shy, and attempt to cover the blush dusting your cheeks. he smacks a wet kiss on your cheek before rolling onto the bed beside you. in that split second, the room spins and your heart beats with the warmth of his body besides you. your heart swells, did he just say love?

the belt clanks as he undos it and pulls his pants down in one movement. he situates you on your knees around his head, blown pupils lost in the other as you look down at him. “are you ready?” he asks. you nod and he hums with acknowledgement. with that, you rise up to all fours and let his arms weave between your legs. he repositions himself to have his face aligned with your cunt and exhales with satisfaction at the sight.

almost as if he’s seeing you for the first time, megumi’s heart pumps desire through his body. you knew exactly how to get him riled up more than anyone else and you’ve barely even touched him. “it’s been so long since i’ve tasted this pussy,” he groans, drinking in the view of you, legs wide and trembling at the strain of the position he has you in. “i missed you.”

his eyes float back to your weeping cunt in front of him. he feels your body tremble with anticipation, his breath fawning over your skin and stare burning into you. he moves his index finger around your hole, inspecting it, pulling your sticky lips apart and licking them clean and you gasp.. you lower yourself down to elbows and let a glob of spit fall onto his cock, stroking him as he pulls your pussy apart by the threads. “fuck, that feels good,” he sputters, thrusting up as you take him into your mouth. you gag on him, tears collecting in your eyes, “did you miss me too?” he teases, his voice low and sets the hairs on your body on edge. the blood is rushing to your head and megumi’s teasing leaves you hot and dizzy. matching sloppy circles with your slurping of his cock, megumi slots his fingers in your hole and focuses on your clit throbbing and pulsating in his mouth.

“mm.. you did. look at this mess,” your moans vibrate around his shaft when he pushes two fingers inside you shallowly. he lets them tease you and focuses on the erect bundles of nerves at the top of your pussy. he peels the hood of your clit back and lets himself suck on you further, lets his head get crushed between your locked legs no longer slack in his grasp. his fingers are deep, further in you than before, dragging sweet pressure along your walls. the pleasure he’s giving you making you grind along his face. he ruthlessly slams his hips up into your open jaw, balls hitting your chin as your spit pools pathetically out of your mouth from the overstimulation of everything. his dick slips out of your mouth while you choke out for air, your throat stretched from his rough thrusts. you rest your head on his thigh and watch his cock bob while he buries his face between your legs.

your resistance wearing thin, your mind spins with each stroke along your walls. “megumi, i’m gonna cum!” he’s coaxing you open, letting your slick drip down his fingers, squelching and filth fills the room. you unfurl in his hands into a wet mess, and megumi eat you like a man starved. you can feel your orgasm hurling towards you when he sucks your clit back into his mouth, letting your mind go numb with pleasure. megumi groans when you spill into his mouth, he watches you cream around his fingers before licking them clean.

cleaning you of your sugar sweet essence, spread thick and shiny on his lips and chin, he throws you forward to face the foot of the bed. you feel his bare chest slide along your back, allowing one hand to trace the curves and dents of your body. he feels up every inch of your exposed skin before laying his palm flat on your shoulder, shoving you flat against the mattress. “tell me you want me,” you can’t breathe and his fingers walk up your arm meeting in the crevices of your knuckles.”tell me you need it, you need me to make you feel this good.” your ass is up, pussy fluttering in response to his airy voice, hot and slow against the shell of your ear.

“ y/n, tell me you need me.”

he rocks his hips against your ass, pushing his cock down to slide between your folds and coat himself. he fucks your wet thighs, groaning selfishly while you vibrate for him. you’re so sensitive and his tip catches your clit with every stroke. you're wrapped up in his scent, his sweat, every sensation and brush of his body on yours more than you can handle. all of his actions are so drawn out and agonizing, his very touch leaving you raw, your senses overloaded. interlocking his hand over yours, he laces his fingers so tight it hurts.

“please, hurry, i-” he slides himself inside of you without warning, pushing past the resistance of your walls and letting your initial pain manifest in tight squeezes instead. “oh my god, it feels so good,” you gasp out, moans cascading from your lips while you adjust to his length he hisses and pulls your ass apart to watch the rest of him get enveloped in your silken pussy. you twitch and reflexively rut back against him, chasing your orgasm, and using him for pleasure. “i need you, megumi. please, don’t tease anymore,” you whine and let your ass bounce back against him once more. he grins wicked and his eyes rolls at the needy cling of your heat around him.

both hands grab at your waist, pinching it tight as he fucks you rough, dragging your body along his shaft without forgiveness. he works his hands in your hair, pulling at the roots to yank you upright, your limp body a whimpering wreck, like putty in his hands. with you against his chest, he angles himself just right to continue thrusting into your sopping pussy. his hand holds your hips down and your back bows when the other forcefully cups over your mouth, muffling your moans. megumi has never been this rough with you, more often than not, gentle and serving, not handling you without a care. your thoughts are screaming his name and your body is on fire under his touch. with every thrust, he finds heaven between your soft thighs.

his hips fumble and are sloppy as he ruts into you, “i’m gonna cum. oh fuck- cum with me.” messy fingers meet your clit as megumi rushes to pull another orgasm out from you. you’re seeing white when megumi spills his cum inside of you, warm and thick, your pussy milking him. panting, the two of you fall to the bed in a tangle of limbs, exasperated and smiling. you whine when he pulls his half hard cock of out you, your pussy sensitive and sore when you feel his cum push out of you with every achy throb.

stillness settles in the room, but the awkward silence is suffocating. after sex, you’d have to pry megumi off of you, his still sweaty body stuck to yours while he peppers you with kisses and adoration. he treated you like the most precious woman in the world and laying beside you is another man. you turned your head to look at him. his stare was focused on the ceiling, unmoving, his body looked tense. your let your hand skate to his side, where you nestled your fingers within his. your fingers are soft and comforting, all of his nerves soothing at the slightest touch.

“is everything alright?” you ask with concern and megumi wants to cry for the first time in a long time. was he ready to lose you already, he asked himself. he mourned the memories you hadn’t created together in the ceiling fan whirs. he can’t speak, all his words on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t seem to muster the strength to tell you about his feelings. you sigh and release his hand, tucking yours together in your lap.

“i wanted to talk to you about us. summer is coming to an end and i’m afraid i can’t keep doing this. i think it’d be best, for the both of us. things can just go back to normal,” his ears are ringing, the blood drumming so loud it’s drowning out your voice. megumi feels like he’s sinking in the ocean, watching your body float above him and leaving him to drown in murky waters. “you’ll go back to college and i’ll stay her. i’m sure you have a bunch of.. people waiting for you,” you force a smile and he sees insecurity crack in it. of course it’s about his (erm) history with women. he feels the shame and pain of every woman he had left broken, making them feel alone. to make matters worse, you’re so calm and collected, he feels like he doesn’t even deserve your kind rejection. he wasn’t ready to lose you. not yet.

“megumi, are you listening to me?” you ask. when his face turns to meet yours devastation written all over it, his eyes look misty like he was on the verge of crying. “megumi! what’s wrong?”

“so that’s it? you’re done with me? i don’t want things to go back to normal. i love you! i love you and- and you’re just afraid! after all everything we’ve been through, our time meant something to me. i thought we had something. not just a summer fling.” his words knock the air from your lungs– love?! of all the things you had prepared for, having your feelings be reciprocated was last on the list. you tingled with joy, the sensation making you high.

“i haven’t been with anyone else. it’s only been you, since we met. i don’t want to be with anyone else” megumi rolls onto his side to stare at you, hoping his words reached you, and that you’d receive them with open arms and change your mind. your hand knots itself in his hair when you kiss him, fast and overly excited. he smiles against your lips and deepens the kiss.

“i love you too.”

- a few months later

“baby, can you believe it’s december 5th already? i’ll be home in two more days.” megumi pulls his scarf up to cover his mouth, cold air puffing from his mouth. he was on his way home from class when he called you, relieved from finishing his last exam day and hearing your voice. his smile is hidden from the camera, but you see it anyways

“i can’t believe the semester is over already. i can’t wait to see you,” you giggle while tying the slipnot of your current crochet project, it’s a hobby you’ve recently picked up, gifting out mittens and hats to all your friends when the temperatures dropped.

“i’m ready to be home with you.” he says. things with megumi have been more than expected. since he’s left for school, you talk daily, receiving the same adorable photos, most of the time of him studying or out on campus. you share pictures of you on the quad with yuuji and voice memos telling him how you miss him. he’s come back twice for long weekends, surprising you after your last friday class, and taking you for lost time. things couldn’t be any better.

the two of you chat all the way to his dorm, making plans for his return, and reminding him not to forget gojo’s birthday gift when he leaves.

“i love you megumi! i’ll see you soon”

#megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #megumi x y/n #megumi x you #megumi smut #jjk fanfic #megumi fushiguro #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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pascalsbby · 1 year

Text

Little Bunny

Javier Peña x you

Summary: 2.1K Javier mistakes you for someone looking to make money. He doesn’t know that your dad is his boss - Or - Extremely frisky Javier gets bratty reader on her knees and takes what he wants <3

Warnings: 18+ mdni, SMUT, age gap, flirty and sweaty Javier, face fucking, he takes what he wants, dominate & aggressive, darkish!javier, pet names, praise kink, dirty talk <3

Based on this ask from @justlulu : Hey, I LOVE your dark content 🩷 I was wondering if you write for Javi Pena too, and also if you take requests?

I do take requests!! Thank you for your kind words. This is my first Javier post. Please comment and let me know what ya’ll think! 🤍

You wanted his huge hands to pull you up to his mouth, light you on fire and suck whatever he needed from you. You’d burn for him, one look in your direction and you were sure.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

The store’s bell rings as the door opens, letting in more of the unforgiving summer air. Along with it comes a broad figure, cast in the shadow from the awning. A quaint “buenas,” was directed towards the register as the fluorescent lights flickered, taking him in too. The artificial glow on his sweat-covered skin dropped down the collar of his shirt. It was a darker pink, unbuttoned and covered in his swelter. Leather jacket atop.

You knew what he was right away. In the way he walked, scanned the room before even stepping two feet inside of it. This town was full of them. You knew who he was a few moments after. He turns towards you, eyes hidden behind yellow aviators. They were one of three prominent features gracing his face, the others being his nose and neatly trimmed mustache. Each guided his presence with a dignified assurance, leaving an indelible mark on anyone fortunate enough to gaze upon his countenance.

In other words, he was fucking beautiful. And he was fucking delusional if he thought the Ray Bans weren’t going to set him apart from the general public. They were his staple and they screamed, “I’m probably a fucking DEA agent.”

You’d heard of him too, Javier. Or Peña, in the stories your dad told you. “You could never tell anyone these things mi vida, I tell them to you because I want you to be safe while we’re here.” You’d spent too many times looking at the pictures on his desk, the ones he had put in front of you stating, “puedes confiar en estos hombres si lo necesitas.”

“You can trust these men if you need to.” Is that so? Since when have you been able to trust any man? Especially ones who look like that in a pair of fitted blue jeans. Especially ones who take you from everything you know and move you to a different country in order to ‘make sure you’re protected’.

The store was mostly empty besides you- and now him. His presence was heavy, not easy to ignore. He looked too pretty- and he looked like your next game piece.

His cologne immediately filled the air and was followed by what an entire pack of cigarettes must smell like. You wanted his huge hands to pull you up to his mouth, light you on fire and suck whatever he needed from you. You’d burn for him, one look in your direction and you were sure.

Javier must have felt you eating him up and you blush, feigning casual interest in the snacks in front of you. But he smirks as his lips part, catching you starring. “No he visto a nadie tan hermosa como tú en mucho tiempo.” Fuck.

He was in front of you, having already looked you up and down as he walked towards you. What a dog.

“I’m sorry?”

“Ah,” he chuckled, looking around. “You speak English.”

“I do.” At least you used to, before he spoke to you and you had to crane your neck upwards to meet his eyes. He had taken his sunglasses off at some point, you were too enamored by his waist to see much else.

“I said, ‘I haven’t seen anyone so beautiful in so long.’”

He swiped his thick thumb across his pouting lips while he waited for your response. That usually works, huh?

It did.

He was flirting with his bosses daughter. He had absolutely no idea who you were, where you were going after this. The power that you yielded, simply from the last name you held. You quietly laughed. He must think you’re full of information, by how hard he’s trying. Why wouldn’t you want to be full of him? He was trying to get something from you.

His demeanor shifted as he waited for a response. Not towards embarrassment, he doesn’t seem the type. More so towards, ‘Fuck. Maybe I came on a little too strong.”

You open your mouth, contemplating what to say next as your eyes return to his. A spark of something…lust? Recognition? No.

His gaze flickers before he turns his attention back to the snacks. He knows that this is the most important part of the conversation.

“I was thinking the same when I saw you walk through that door.” You surprised him. He sat down the crumpled bag and looked back at you.

“Is that so?” He started, but you interrupted, not wanting him to keep the conversation going and figure who you were, how young you were, that you weren’t worth a shit when it came to flirting. That you weren’t someone who couldn’t be an informant.

“Can I have one of those?” You pointed towards his crotch, meaning his back pocket where his tattered box of cigarettes sat against his ass. You watched as his smile spread, laughing beneath the deep breath he takes as he pulls them out and smacks them flat against his wide palm. He picks one and hands it to you.

He lowers his voice as he steps even closer. “You can have whatever you want, conejita. Let’s take this outside.”

You looked down at his fingers and imagined what they were capable of, how long they were. All of the spots inside of you that they could caress. You took the cigarette and looked into him.

“Let’s.”

You imagined Javier liked to keep his outside of work activities on the low. His dirty little secrets were easier to keep when he hid them behind the facade of work. Of doing good for the world. They also happened to do well with his cock. You wondered if he paid them, too.

Of course he does. He’s a gentleman. ‘Someone to rely on’.

You put it between your lips as he dug in his other pocket for his lighter. “How can you fit anything in those? Let alone find anything.”

“Hey, these jeans don’t look good on just anybody, baby.”

Baby.

You huff and he falls back, scrunching his eyebrows towards the setting sun as he lights his own cigarette, first. What a gentleman. The fine lines of his face soften after he takes a long hit.

His hands ghost your face as the click of the lighter ignites and the fire burns closely to your face.

“What’s your name, anyways?” You ask, pulling in the burn.

“Peña.”

“Do you have a first name? Or is the last one just cooler?” He smirks.

Both of you sat in silence for a moment, looking around the street at the children playing.

“S’not too safe for you out here right now.”

“Why’s that?”

“Mierda, eres difícil, ¿no? Just trust me.” He huffed out a laugh.

So you did. There were eyes everywhere, if need be. You said what he had been pining for the entire time.

“So take me home then, Peña.”

He wasted no time walking you to where he was staying, the warmth of his palm not leaving your lower back until you made it to his front door. He had been trying to get small things out of you during the stroll. Where were you from? Why were you visiting? You didn’t give him much and you could tell it was bothering him. Every once in a while he would look down at you, his breath falling right into the ticklish spot on your ear. You wanted him.

It didn’t come as a surprise to either of you when he guided you in the door, shut it quickly and then grabbed the back of your head, moving his lips against yours.

He was soft and gentle, but his grip in your hair was stern- he’d seen the world, felt it. Watched it bleed, be unmerciful. He kissed you on your lips, then once on your cheek as an apology for not being able to contain himself. He kissed between your collar bones, lovingly, moving down to your breasts.

“How old are you again?”

“20’s. Old enough.” You were breathless. His lips were kissing at your sweat.

“Mhmm,” he moans against your skin.

“Gonna have to fuck it out of you, aren’t I?”

“I don’t give away information for free, Peña.”

“Get on the bed mi conejita.” He growled. For his line of work, he wasn’t very patient.

It was dark in his room, and the entirety of it smelled of him. You wanted to sink into his sheets and cover yourself in him. You made your way to the bed in the right corner of the room, the only light from the orange streetlights, barely on from the newly descending darkness.

He had been a flirt since the moment he opened his mouth, but he saved himself for the darkness. You prop yourself up, sitting at the middle edge of his bed with your feet on the ground, waiting for instruction. He seems like he’s the type who wants to be in charge.

His shirt is off quickly, and the amber light hugs the curves of his chest, his hips. His lips touch exactly what he wants them to, nothing more. You wanted them to wrap around you like they had his cigarette, before.

His nose kisses you, too. He kisses like he never will again. And he doesn’t, not really. Not many people have touched his lips, as compared to the rest of him.

He’s an angry man, it runs through his veins, and you can feel it in his force. But he wants so badly to be calm, still, soft, in the way he caresses you. How can you not be angry at the world when you’ve seen what he has?

The thing is, you have. Not to his extent, surely. But you’d seen a lot pass your dads desk.

“Now tell me, cariño, what do you need to give me what I want?” You scoffed as he pulled away, removing his arms from either side of you on his bed.

“Tell me your first name and then let me suck your cock.”

Who was winning at this game?

You pushed him forwards and made enough space in front of him for your body, as you slid down to your knees, hitting the hollow wood harder than anticipating as you unbuckle his belt. You go ahead and take it all the way off, kissing his stomach as you fidget with his zipper. His hair peaks out over the top of the layers as you impatiently pull his jeans lower.

He’s so hard that it’s making it difficult to take them off, cock pressing against the tight denim. He gasps softly as your hand reaches him. You pull his already showing head out of his boxers, licking your lips before wetting his tip and licking up anything he was already willing to give you.

“Javier,” He gasps his own name.

“Mmm,” you moan as you hold it in your hands. It’s heavy, long. His balls are heavier as you grasp them, only imagining the sound they’ll make slapping against your cunt.

You’d teased him enough.

“Javier,” you were whining now. He groaned at his name on your tongue, mixing with his precum.

“Hush and open your throat.”

You pushed your wet tongue into the bottom of your mouth, opening your lips wider in attempt to take him easily. But this wasn’t going to be easy, considering the size of him.

You let the saliva pool in your mouth and he lifts an eyebrow, asking for permission. You look up at him and nod.

Immediately his hand are in your hair, moving them around as he finds the right grip to fuck himself into your mouth.

“Too big baby? I thought you were a big girl? Old enough? That’s so cute, it’s not even all the way in. Let’s see if you can do it, hmm?” He lifts his head and it falls backwards as he takes your throat completely, your neck and body jumping at the intrusion. You find yourself lifting your hands to his hips, trying to find anything to hold onto as he fucks himself down your tongue and into the back of your mouth.

“So pretty, little bunny.” Finally revealing the nickname he gave you. “But I’m not finished yet.” You sputter around him, opening your throat even wider.

Your knees are carrying a dull ache, and you almost wish you hadn’t asked to suck him off. You remove yourself from him and attempt to catch your breath.

He continues carving out the shape of his cock in your throat and you relax, letting his angry head hit the back of your neck.

His voice is so deep, vibrating even, but his whimpers aren’t as they slip past his lips. He’s ruthless in his attempt.

“All done, sweet thing?” He pulls himself from your throat and looks at the connecting spit.

“I’m not. If this mouth isn’t gonna tell me what I want to hear than I might as well fill it as I see fit, yes?”

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

Masterlist

Ya’ll, I saw this ask, thought about Javier smoking, and then this happened within 45 minutes…

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wooobuddyletsgetnasty · 4 months

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maybe I have some Benedict Bridgerton girlies on here maybe not but I have to get this off my chest with the new season because the man looks good. And don’t think for ONE second that this is anything but self-indulgent.

there is ofc slight porn in here bc WHO DO YOU THINK I AM???

you’ve received your warning, come closer if you dare.

maybe something along the lines of Benedict being a best friend of your older brother, something along the lines of a staple in your household, someone you have grown far too used to seeing.

he is nigh a few summers your senior but still further progressed enough that they hardly allow you to play.

tragedy strikes on your year of three and ten, taking your mother and father, which leads you and your older brother, who is six and 10, to being sent to the countryside to stay until of age, until you are able to care for yourself.

—

it takes seven full summers for the two of you to make way back to the ton— on the eighth year, in the spring, you return— you make your debut with your brother heading the attempt to find a lawful man for you to wed.

that very same spring, you see Mr. Bridgerton again.. but he is different, as are you.

gone is the girl and in her place is a woman.

you are still bright-eyed, despite the tragedy— still quick witted and kind. but you are also different, ethereal— Benedict never realized how your smile lifts your cheeks, never realized how your brow furrows when you speak— Benedict sees you for the first time in years and it feels like he has really, finally seen you.

and he— he is a man now. taller than you remember, more filled out— stout. with strong hands and forearms you linger on longer than you should— something that proves the artist he is. but he is unchanged in mischief, in the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, in the way he tries to include you in conversation.

it is in the spring, the spring you return, when you realize— you love Benedict Bridgerton.

—

despite your realization, you note that Mr. Bridgerton will never see you as anything but his best friend’s younger sister. you are put out, saddened by it. but it does not stop you. you cannot, will not be your brother’s burden any longer.

it is then your discrete conversation, your inside jokes, and your admiration of Benedict’s art stops. you cannot be so close to a man if you expect to find a good husband, one that will care for you and make sure you are happy.

Benedict, Ben, will never love you and you are fine with that or at least you can pretend.

—

it does not take long for you to find a prospect, Lord Rothschild. he is kind to you— he listens when you speak, he does not treat you like you are lesser. you are content to marry him, happy even.

but it still feels like it is not enough.

his gaze does not burn through you— does not make you alive— it does not make you feel.

but you are fine— you convince yourself. you could be happy. you could learn to love him.

your engagement seems set in stone.

Lord Rothschild has asked your brother for your hand and you agree. your smile does not pull your cheeks in the way Benedict can make it— but the way your lips turn up when he tells you, it is enough for your brother to be content.

—

Benedict, Ben, he calls on you that very night— the very day your brother speaks with Lord Rothschild and there is something about him that seems urgent, terrified.

you speak to him quietly, your maid a shadow behind you, your gown sways in the light spring breeze, “what are you doing here?”

he pauses, hesitating in his answer, “I-I do not know, I do not know.”

you step closer, peering like someone might see you, “we cannot be seen— I am to be married— you cannot be here, Ben.”

he seems awed, struck in the same way he normally is by you, “i cannot tell you.. but i can show you.” you are rightfully confused but nod hesitantly, “alright, Ben. alright.”

“meet me at Bridgerton house in the early morn.”

you agree without question, hastily turning, nightgown ruffling with the movement, motioning your maid towards the door, “Bridgerton house. i will be there.”

—

you hold true and you come to Bridgerton house in the morn— but you do not end up staying there.

in a carriage surrounded by nothing but a stifling silence, you allow Ben to take you into town. your nerves are pooling in your stomach, making you feel ill— but something in his gaze makes you hold out.

when the carriage comes to a stop, Benedict leads you in a direction you are familiar with, and suddenly, he seems nervous to be standing in front of this building— you have seen it before and it does not help with your confusion.

it is his studio— a place you have spent far too much of your time in, wasting moments, talking about your favorite art piece of his, something abstract, something you do not understand but are happy to look at because he touched it.

“Ben.. what are we doing here?”

he swallows thickly, a nervous habit you have picked up on, “you will see.”

it does not quell your nerves.

—

the inside is different than what you have seen before. gone are the abstract arts and in their place is portraits— so many portraits.

you take a turn around, admiring the ones that are full of color, life. you admire the ones drawn hastily with dark lines and desperation. they are all beautifully done. you are awed by his talent, awed by how well done and intricate they seem.

it strikes you suddenly, quickly as you stare into one— those are all your eyes, your nose, your cheeks.

“Ben,” you pause, attempting to find the words, “are— are these all of me?”

you turn, looking at him with a look he has never seen before. Benedict swallows heavily, voice hesitant when he speaks, “yes, they are all of you.”

you turn back, a new admiration in your gaze, “you have painted me?”

you do not turn back when he speaks, “you are so beautiful, it is hard not to.”

you pause again on the one that seems desperate, the line of your brow drawn crudely, like he feared forgetting, “why me?”

there is a quiver in his voice, “even when i am unable to draw— to paint— i can still imagine you. i imagine you in perfect detail, every time. sometimes it’s only you, only you, i don’t even realize i am doing it— not until you, you with that enchanting smile, are looking back at me.”

your chest tightens, “Ben— please— please, explain what this means.”

there is a waver in your voice this time— echoing the same as his.

he answers steadily, a newfound confidence in his tone. Benedict moves, admiring his own art, “i have seen you millions of ways— millions of emotions,” with his next phrasing, he motions to a different art, art made by his hands, “contempt, sadness, anger, happiness..” his voice trails, “i have seen a million emotions in your face,” his lip quivers when he finally turns to face you, deep eyes turning tender, “and i have loved each of them.”

you shudder, emotion overtaking you, but you do not respond to him, instead allowing him to continue to speak, “i have loved each of them and i will continue to love them— each emotion, every passion— i will never, never finish loving them, loving you.”

you can hear nothing but your heartbeat— nothing but the sound of your ribcage rattling, “you— Ben— i cannot… i cannot do this. Lord Rothschild has asked for my hand. i am meant to be wed.. he will propose soon.”

you are rambling, almost trying to deny him— deny what you feel.

Benedict hardens but does not attempt to move closer to you, “you say you are to wed him,” he pauses, turning desperate, “but do you look at him the way you are looking at me?”

you do not recognize that you are looking at him any other way than normal, not until he quivers under your gaze, “stop. do not continue to look at me that way,” his voice drips with hardly there restraint, “do not— or i will ruin you.”

you break under his equal watch, hands going up in desperation, before landing equally at your side, “you, Benedict Bridgerton, have already ruined me. i cannot marry that man,” you cannot stop the absolute noise of desperation that falls from your lips, “i cannot marry that man— and it is because of you!”

he seems aghast at your words, “me? me!” he swaggers closer to you, some part of him sure that this is what you want and you answer by stepping in to his frame, confirming it is, “yes! you! you and your artworks, you and the way you are leering at me— you and just you, Benedict— you have ruined me. i have nothing left for anyone else,” you quiver, but do not deny yourself the satisfaction of finally admitting it, “i love you— i love you.”

it feels like a prayer— like a secret, like something you should not have shared. it is too late to retract— Benedict closes in on you, lips pressing against yours with an anguish you can taste.

—

it takes a moment of his lips pressing against yours before Benedict is pulling away, hands raising above his head, dark hair shaking with the move of his head, “tell me to stop— tell me to back away, please, please.”

you cannot— you will not. you refuse to deny yourself any longer, “no— Ben, Benedict— no.” when he turns away, you follow, making sure he can see you, see the emotion in your face, “you cannot do this— you cannot show me this and expect us to go back to normal.”

he finds himself unable to turn away from you, instead, he cradles you, hands cupping at the sides of your face in a way you can only describe as tender, and he whispers— he whispers in something you can only describe as salvation, “i love you.”

you answer in a kiss, one that makes him back you into a table, one that makes him lift you high, seating you on a table in the very place he paints— he paints you. his hands grip desperately at your skirts— he is temping you, nothing but sin reeking from every pore, “i love you.”

you squeal a noise unknown to you when he disappears under the fabrics, mouthing at the most sensitive parts of you like they are his supper, “wait! wait! what are you—“ you are cut off by a noise so depraved you do not recognize yourself, “oh! oh!”

you gather your own skirts in your hands, trying to take away burden from him but also trying to find something to grab— something to hold. you need it— need to focus on something other than his quick tongue— you need something to ground yourself against the onslaught of his mouth against the place only husbands are supposed to touch.

“Benedict,” you sound hazy, a feeling in your gut pooling in the way you have only felt your own touch make you, “something is happening!”

he hums against you, against your tender most spot, signaling he knows— he knows and it is supposed to feel like this, that it is supposed to happen this way.

you release your skirts, opting to instead grab at the dark hair on his head, pressing him against the part of you that feels the most— the part that tingles from the base of your spine to the tips of your toes, “oh! Ben! oh!”

you do not need to elaborate, he can tell— he knows, knows you are crumbling from his touch.

he pulls away from you, only when your noises turn in to almost discomfort.

he appears from under your skirts, grin happy and face wet. he watches you for only a moment.

Benedict watches the way your brow eases, worries quelled, watches the way your mouth opens in gasps— from him, because of him.

you heave for air, gasping and heaving and he pauses, taking in the way your face changes with each breath.

“i think i will paint you like this next,” you peer at him, him still lingering between your spread legs, his pretty face framed by the silky fabric of your dress, “but only if you will agree to be my wife.”

#bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton #Benedict Bridgerton x reader #send me asks #yes yes yes #shut up rissa

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 6 months

Note

Odd question but - I'm looking to study in the UK this fall, and I'm trying to get to grips with the grading system. Could you explain the grading boundaries to me please? It's different from the US, as far as I can see!

I found this handy table which you might find useful - I don't really understand the US system either lol.

Here's what I will say though - I have many times before seen Americans online seeing the percentages for the UK grade boundaries and immediately wax lyrical about how EASY and SIMPLE it must be to do well in the UK because OH MY GOD I could tooootally get 70%!!! In the US that's barely a C!!! Wow education must be soooo simple in the UK -

And uh. I have seen very few Americans in those discussions stop and ask themselves how much harder it might be to hit 70% in the UK. Which, as the international academic office in every university will tell you, is the crucial question you absolutely should be asking. Does an American 70% look the same as a UK 70%?

(It Does Not.)

So don't be fooled by that! Over here, at undergrad the pass mark is 40%. 40-49% gets you a third; 50-59% gets you what's varyingly known as a lower second (formally), a 2:2 (most commonly), or a Desmond (by sad people. It's a reference to Desmond Tutu - two two). A 2:2 is also the most commonly awarded degree classification over here.

60-69% is a 2:1, or upper second class honours. And then the top level is the first - 70% and up. The vast majority of firsts are earned by students who got 70-79%. Exceptional work pushes into the 80s. It is incredibly rare that you ever see a mark in the 90s, and when you do, it's almost always on maths papers where there are right or wrong answers and that's it.

I can't remember how the US's summa cum laude etc stuff maps onto that, though you could probably find that on Google as well. But as a rule of thumb, think first = excellent, 2:1 = good, 2:2 = fair, and third = you need to be careful and see what you can do to improve (although that is still a pass at university and that is not to be sniffed at).

Ooh, as a final point, though, there's also how assessment works, which again, I know is very different over here (again I don't really understand it in the US). Your lecturer cannot set random work here and there to count as summative assessment. Every module is different in how it's set up, but let's give an example:

Module: Coastal and Marine Conservation Two assessments, each worth 50% of the final grade. Assessment 1: A report on the biodiversity of Ramsey Island in the Pembrokeshire Coast National Park. Explore the cause of the lower biodiversity there than nearby Skomer/Skokholm; how was this challenged/rectified? How have species recovered since? What should be done into the future? Assessment 2: A two-hour closed book exam. Half of this exam (50 marks) will be a mix of short and medium length questions; things like "Define these five terms (two marks each)", or "Describe the process of longshore drift and its impact on sedimentation patterns (15 marks)" or what have you. The second half is a 50 mark essay - pick one of three essay questions offered, and off you go. (Essay questions are a staple feature of exams over here, and multiple choice questions are extremely rare and generally frowned on as being Not Sufficiently Academic.)

Now, in the case of this module, these are the only two assessment points. Both the report brief and the exam paper are registered with the academic office in the summer before the academic year even starts, and both are triple verified - by the lecturer who writes/sets them, by an internal verifier in the department, and an external verifier from another university. This is part of quality control.

If, for some reason, you fail one of these, or cannot submit them by their due date, or what have you, you still have to do them. If you claim for Extenuating Circumstances (e.g. "I was made homeless and my cat blew up, so I couldn't do it in time") then you get an extension on it; as long as you submit by the end of the academic period, you're fine. If you don't, you need to resit it. This normally means over the summer after the main term ends.

But, in the UK system what we can't do is go "Okay never mind, how about you submit a write-up of the volunteering you're currently doing with SeaLife instead and we'll count that?" The reason being, under the UK system that is not a quality-controlled solution. That has not been checked and verified as an equivalent assessment to what the rest of the class has done; so if you do that and get a 2:1, there is no assurance that you are actually of the same academic quality as one of your peers who got a 2:1 for that research report on Ramsey's biodiversity.

Which... don't let it scare you! As I say, there are a LOT of systems that can help you if things start going wrong (always, always, always keep Student Support and your lecturers in the loop). But that is a different system from what I understand you might be used to, so heads up on that.

(I am not arguing that one is better than the other, by the way. Last time I explained a difference in the UK university system I got a very hostile and aggressive American in the notes throwing a right strop over how terrible the UK system clearly is because XYZ, right up until I had to actually say "I am literally just describing how it's different, not claiming superiority," and then they went mysteriously quiet and stopped replying. So to forestall that, I am only describing the differences. There are advantages and disadvantages to each.

The UK system is certainly more inflexible. But it does, incidentally, at least free you from the tyranny I see reported so often by US students of the dreaded Tenured Professor who deliberately as a matter of pride sets impossible exams that everyone fails. Over here, that shit Does Not Fly. So there's that.)

Anyway - hopefully that answers your question! Any others, hit me up. Good luck, and enjoy your studies!

#asks #the professional world of careers and tasks

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hunnylagoon · 7 months

Text

The Killing Moon

PT1: Camp Spirit

Ellie Williams x Reader

Of all the paths you take in life, make sure a few of them are dirt.

Premise: You are a camp counsellor who comes back year after year to be at peace in the one place you love the most. Though there is something different in the air, could it be love or maybe an ancient evil you’ve mistakenly awakened?

Warnings: slight mentions of violence / mentions of monsters and cryptids / raunchy humour / spooky?

The Killing Moon Playlist

PART TWO: The Colour Wars

Week One of Summer Camp

Camp Honey Hills is what you could call 'off the radar'. It sat way up past the hills and forests of Oregon, relatively untouched by the urban nightmare of the city. It stayed peaceful and undisturbed as leaves shed from trees and snow covered every inch of ground, but the camp was alive for one season of the year. Even in the quietness of preparing for the campers to arrive you could still hear counsellors laughing with one another and that's how you could tell the camp was waking up from its ten-month slumber.

"Anyone in the White Tail Deer Cabin, over here!" I held my hand up and waved to the kids piling out of the buses, carrying duffle bags bigger than themselves. The first day of camp was always the most stressful, the only thing to get you through was the idea that it would be over soon and we could get to the fun part of summer.

I already had a handful of girls crowding around me, all of them were either ten or eleven; depending on how you look at it, I either got blessed or cursed that I was assigned to a cabin of older girls. While the younger ones were wild and untamable, the older ones tended to be snarky and standoffish, these girls we’re leaning toward wild.

"Hi," I look up from my clipboard to see a scrawny girl, she has long black hair in two French braids, a summer camp staple. "My thing says that Ellie is my counsellor and I don't know who that is."

"All good," I bend down to her height, "It's that pretty girl over there," I point at Ellie, she's talking to one of the girls in her cabin, and her dark eyebrows are furrowed at what I can only assume to be an absurd question. "You're in the Grizzly Cabin, looks like I'll be seeing a lot of you."

The girl doesn't answer me with words, from the way she's looking at me you'd think I just told her that I sat on her hamster. She gives me one last side glance before she struts off and lugs her duffle bag behind her. "That weird girl said I was in your cabin," I hear ever so faintly in the distance, Ellie bites back a laugh.

I shake off the not-so-subtle cruelty of a pre-teen and go back to yelling for all of the girls in my cabin. So far I had seven of the eight campers I was supposed to have, I was in the lead and if I collected all of the girls in my cabin first, that would be more points towards the camp cup. You should know that I take the camp cup very seriously, it really isn't anything more than a trophy that Tommy and Joel give to a cabin but I haven't lost it in the past five years that I've worked here.

"Is your name Tamar?" I point at a stubby ginger girl, "You look like your name is Tamar," I was on the hunt for the eighth girl in my cabin so I could win the arrival day points.

"Uh, no," She said, looking as muddled as scrambled eggs "My name is Marcy."

"Then get out of here, Marcy," I look past her and nod at a girl with skin the colour of ebony wood "Are you Tamar?" This girl looks around to double-check that I'm talking to her before she shakes her head no.

"Who's my counsellor then?" Marcy who stands at a maximum of what looks to be a mighty 4'3 is peering into my soul with her icy blue eyes and I almost shudder, all I could think is that someone needed to get this four-foot-nothing girl some contact lenses.

"Your counsellor and cabin should be on the slip of paper that administration gave you."

"I lost my paper."

"Um," I glance around at the other counsellors, collecting their campers. My eyes settle on Abby, she's wearing a Camp Honey Hills T-shirt. She looks like she's got everything more put together and organized than any other counsellor so I decided to dump this kid on her. "It's that blonde girl with the big muscles, you better hurry because she'll crush you if you aren't there in time."

Marcy looks at Abby and then back to me with wide eyes at my words before she scurries away. As I watch her roll up to Abby's group, I quickly realize that there is no way she is in that cabin. Abby got the oldest group, consisting of fourteen and fifteen-year-olds and I was sure that Marcy, with all of her missing teeth, was no older than nine. I avert my eyes to avoid any wrath.

I spot Jesse who is trying to wrangle up his boys who are already rough housing and throwing each other in the dirt. Somehow he always ends up with the returning campers or the savage ones who would surely put my head on a stick before taking a shower.

"Is this the White Tail Deer Cabin?" A girl with pale skin and brown hair stares me down, she's tall for her age and lanky.

"Are you Tamar?"

"Yeah," She says it like she's annoyed.

"Perfect," I smile, turning to my group "Alright girls, that's everyone," I turn to look in Tommy's direction "I said that's everyone," I enunciate louder to be sure he can hear me, each of my campers gives one another a snide glance.

Tommy presses his lips together in a thin line and answers me with a thumbs-up. He already knew I would be the first to get my group together, I always was. He and Joel are the camp directors, they were talking about something before I called their attention.

Marcy points at me and Abby looks in my direction, her eyebrows knit together. Great, now I was being snitched on my nine-year-old. Abby calls out my name but I'm already ushering my girls towards the cabins "Who wants to see the cabin?"

In just moments, I'm long gone and walking the trail to the girl's cabins. Breathing one last moment of peace, the earthy bitterness in the air, droplets of last night's rain slipping off leaves. It made me want to savour every moment in the forest I had before summer ended and I had to go back to stuffy dorms and lectures along with people as boring as the city itself. I've never been able to fathom why anyone would dream of the city, of the drug users and creepy men roaming the streets. Concrete everything and headaches from blue light, every day that I was away at college I dreamed of coming back here, I counted down the days I could turn my phone off and disappear from the world for a while.

The boys may have had a shorter walk to their bunkhouse but the girls definitely got the better view. It also didn't hurt that the circle of cabins was right beside the pasture so we woke up to watch horse grazing, unless you don't like horses, then you can just ignore them I guess.

"Okay, ladies," I open the door to our cabin, a little carving of a doe above the doorframe. "This is our cabin, go ahead and claim your bunks, I don't care who goes where, just don't fight about it and no one set up on my bed."

"How do we know which one is yours?" One of the girls, Leslie, asks.

"Because it's the only one that's set up," I say, bluntly and I see the realization hit her like it was a math equation that finally clicked in her head "You guys can unpack and I'll go over the cabin constitution in a minute."

As my campers piled into the cabin, ravenously fighting over who got which bed, I saw Ellie walking up with her girls. Our cabins were right next to each other, we shared a little porch that Maria decorates with plants while Ellie and I neglect them until they're wilted and we try to save them so we don't get yelled at. Alternatively, dump the responsibility of nurturing plants on one of your campers, kids love to water stuff and feel important.

Ellie's campers begin to walk up the porch and into the cabin, one of her girls runs up to me "I wanna be in your cabin again," Lana pouts, I had her last year and I can't say that I have a least favourite camper but if I could, it would definitely be Lana. "Ellen is so mean."

"Well, maybe she would be nicer if you said her name right." I look up to see Ellie who mouths a 'Thank you' "Call her Ellie and maybe you two can be nice to each other."

Lana looks between the two of us before wordlessly walking into the cabin in trail of the other girls. "It's shaping up to be an interesting summer."

"We've survived worse," I cross my arms "Do you remember Tucker? That kid Jesse had who managed to tie a piece of dental floss around a wasp and carry it around with him all day like a balloon."

"He was a little weird but he was chill," Ellie jokes, like every other counsellor, she's wearing the Honey Hills T-Shirt and Demin shorts, her auburn hair pulled back into a half up half down style "How about that girl in Dina's cabin who wrote Reid letters pretending to be Priya?"

I laugh "I can't believe it went on so long."

"I can, Reid's a fucking idiot." She says "He pronounces chutney like chut-uh-ney."

"Oh my god, I hate that so much," I was obviously dragging on this conversation, hunting for reasons to talk to her "And the way he says Ibiza and Cuba and like everything."

"Do you remember when he joined the women supporting women club in high school?"

"Please don't remind me, that was awful," I chuckle "The worst part is that he ran that shit like the navy."

"Are you coming inside?" Chloe pokes her head out the door.

"I guess so," I answer "Uh, I'll see you at the campfire," I tell Ellie before stepping into my cabin and seeing pure chaos. The four bunkbeds that were pristinely set up just hours ago were now clad in each girl's personal bedding, ranging from Chloe's neat colour scheme of light blue and white to Kim's mismatched quilts, fuzzy pillows, and bright orange sleeping bag. They were still working on getting everything set up, specifically getting the fitted sheets onto the twin-sized waterproof mattress. Some of the girls were even beginning to tape up photos of their friends and family from back home. "Wow, looks great girls."

"Can we go to dinner yet?" Leslie asked, her twin braids hanging over her pink hoodie.

"No, it is three o'clock but we will go over the cabin constitution." A couple of the girls let out groans of disapproval "First you always listen to me, do as I say not as I do. Respect others and their belongings, please don't hurt anyone or yourself. Maintain personal hygiene and do not go anywhere without telling someone where. Also, we have shower schedules, showers are absolutely mandatory, and no one will talk their way out of it. On Friday's we have tuck shop, and everyone gets a twenty dollar allowance for that, no you do not actually touch the money it's part of the camp package, I take your orders and come back with candy. We have campfires every night, breakfast, lunch, and dinner are mandatory to attend even if you don't eat which I strongly encourage you do."

"Do we have to go if we're sick?" Tamar asked me.

"No."

"But you just said it was mandatory."

"It's mandatory if you aren't sick."

"But you said-

"Stop," I clasp my hands together "I know I'm older than you guys but I promise you can tell me and ask me anything." I smile, looking around "Any other questions?"

"Can we swear?" Valentina asks, she's kicking her feet off her bed on the top bunk. Her skin is the colour of copper and she has a little dusting of freckles over her button nose.

"I don't really care just don't do it around other adults and don't tell them that I told you that."

"What's the wifi?" Morgan was typing something on her phone which was by far more expensive than the model I owned. Dina had Morgan in previous years and I wasn't too thrilled to be in charge of the (as she claimed) disrespectful blonde monster sent from hell to ruin her life.

"We don't have wifi, we hardly have service," I tell her "And you aren't even supposed to have your phone here but you can't do anything on it anyways so it doesn't matter."

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Leah chimes in, she's sitting on the ground with Oliver and slowly but surely braiding her friend's hair.

"Not at the moment, no."

"So are you a lesbian?" Olive follows up for her friend.

"Um," I press my lips together, my mind failing me, "I think we're good on questions, who wants a camp tour?" No one says or does anything, they just kind of look around awkwardly "That's too bad, you're getting one."

Everyone gathered around the crackling fire pit on splintered wooden benches. The warm glow of the campfire flickered in the midst of a cool summer night, casting dancing shadows on the faces of worn-out campers who were ready for bed.

Tommy had given his speech to sike up the kids for the rest of the summer, he made sleeping in the woods sound like a lot of fun. "We're giving you tonight to settle in but I promise that starting tomorrow we are hitting the ground running, activities from morning until dark, this will be a summer to remember," He smiles brightly "I don't wanna babble too long so I'm gonna give the attention to Miles who is going to kick off our campfire by playing the guitar for us."

Miles sat directly across from me in the first row of benches so I could only see him through the orange flames of the fire. "This is an original song I wrote, so far it's untitled but I'm open to ideas," He made himself comfortable with the guitar, readjusting it to sit in his lap properly.

"What do you wanna bet it's about?" Ellie whispers into my ear from beside me. Since the day cooled into the night, she's thrown on a gray hoodie to keep herself warm. You would be an idiot to ignore how pretty she looks illuminated by nothing more than stray stars in the sky and a campfire.

"I'll put five bucks on sex,"

"Sex?" She raises her eyebrows "I don't think he's stupid enough to sing a song about sex in front of kids, I'm gonna say it's about being a tortured artist."

"It could easily be both," I look down and see Ellie's muddied converse "We break even if he does both." The fire roared before us like our own miniature hell.

Miles clears his throat and lets his curly blonde locks fall over his forehead. Beginning to strum, he made that weird face he makes every time he plays guitar, where he scrunched his eyebrows together "Baby, maybe, I just wanna do you, do you, do you wanna do me? do me underneath the moonlight," He's too lost in his song to see the horror on every counsellor's face "Baby, baby, maybe I will steal you, steal you, just so I can feel you, feel you, maybe that would heal you."

I cover my mouth with my hand to stop me from cackling. The older kids were on the verge of laughing themselves while the younger kids seemed utterly confused. "Holy shit," I mutter so quietly that my words got blown away with the wind.

Ellie didn't try to stop her laughter, just hide it, she buried her head into the crook of my neck so no one could see how red her face was. She was far better off than Dina who was laughing so hard that she was clutching her stomach and nearly falling over, Miles seemed to be oblivious to all of this. In Dina’s defence, it was difficult not to laugh at a song so wildly inappropriate and bad in general.

Miles had far from the best voice, he just sounded like every other white guy who sang Wonderwall at a girl, not to her but at her "Sticky thighs are you wild now or just a memory? I heard your broken cries and looked into your eyes under the moonlight, so do you wanna do me, do me, so I can heal you, heal you, from the inside-

He stops abruptly when Joel takes the guitar away from him "How about Sawyer tells us the camp legend instead."

Those who knew who Sawyer was looked towards him, Miles was trying helplessly to get his guitar back from Joel who was holding it just slightly out of reach. "It's been a while since I've told this so forgive me if-

"No one cares, just tell it," Ashlynn said. She was one of the counsellors who clearly didn't want to be there, which meant all of the campers thought her to be the coolest; in all fairness, she was cool. Ashlynn had bleach blonde shaggy hair, so light that it almost looked white. Her eyeliner was always a little smudged and she was only there to keep the kids alive, she tended to be the first to opt out of group activities and go to bed early.

"Okay well, it starts way back in the sixteen-hundreds, on these very grounds there was a small village," Sawyer put on his best storytelling voice which was just him lowering his voice an octave. "They lived in peace for decades, and throughout all of those decades there was a woman named Abigail who never seemed to age, while all of her friends and family developed wrinkles, their hair turned gray, and their bodies sagged, Abigail still looked nineteen even at her alleged age of sixty-seven."

The new campers seemed enraptured but returning kids and counsellors seemed bored out of their minds, I even spotted one boy who's been attending this camp longer than I have, mouthing the words of Sawyers tale.

"They accused her of witchcraft and she was shortly exiled far up the hill into what we now call the Honey House. They left her with nothing more than a hunting knife, a canteen of water, the clothes on her back, and a small portion of seeds. The villages burned down her home in town along with everything inside it. If you think that is the end-

"Think again!" Dina cut in, getting up from her spot and squeezing herself beside Sawyer. "With Abigail gone the villagers thought they would be safe but just days after Abigail was exiled, anomalies began to appear-

Sawyer chimed back in "At first they were harmless, pixies, gnomes, jackalopes, nyiads by the rivers and dryads in the trees. The creatures appearing slowly began to appear more and more dangerous and at last, the snatchers arrived-

"Like a muscular and tall emaciated human. The most terrifying creatures to ever be seen, they roamed just outside of the village and lured children in, they slurped the flesh right off of the children's bodies like prey and wore the clothes of their last victim. They have no lips just a bloody gash and when they don't eat, the gash begins to reseal, leaving nothing on their gray faces but large and pale sunken eyes the size of my fist!" Dina clenched her hand into a fist and held it up for everyone to see.

"Their fingers are long and rotted, long curls of claws on each of their ten spindly fingers. The males are devoid of all hair and the females hardly have hair at all, just small plugs of greasy and matted strands. Their teeth are sharper than fangs and are rotten black and yellow, a foul odour escaping each time they open their disgusting gashes of a mouth. Though the snatchers were the most feared among villagers, they were also being terrorized by other creatures, such as pine devils who slithered from the forests at night and attacked families. There was ghouls who would take on the form of the last corpse they devoured and of course, the wampus which was half-man and half-cat, would stalk villagers.”

"Like a furry?" One of the boys from Jesse's cabin peeped.

"No," Sawyer exasperated "Like a scary and intimidating cat-man."

"So does it look more like the Cat in the Hat or like Cats the Musical?"

"It doesn't look like either, it's a terrifying man that is covered in fur and looks like a cat but is also a man."

"So Cats the Musical?"

Dina ignored the comment and continued with the story "After a year the village population had been cut in half and everyone thought it to be the witch, they figured that Abigail had cursed them for exiling her so they lit up their torches at sunset and marched up the hill to the Honey House. Abigail pleaded with them and explained that she hadn't cursed them but during her residency in the village she had warded off each evil spirit and creature with her witchcraft but she no longer could protect the village after they burned her home down and all her supplies inside of it."

After muttering to Jesse to get his cabin in order, Sawyer picked up when Dina left off "The villagers begged for her forgiveness and apologised for their cruel acts in the hope that Abigail would rid them of the monsters, Abigail said she would but in return they grant her return to the village, so the townfolk agree-

"With all her supplies to ward off the creatures gone, Abigail resorts to a blood ritual. She tells the townfolk that they must complete the ritual before sundown. She creates five pentagrams made of sticks and twine. Abigail races around the village to place the pentagrams and avoid the creatures while she does so, the villagers ward the monsters away from her with their torches. At each pentagram, Abigail slices her palm open and squeezes her fist to drip blood onto each one, then she ignites the pentagram with a torch and utters an incantation. She slashes her thighs and calves to get enough blood and in a last-ditch effort, she cuts her wrists open to finalize the ritual," Only the younger kids had been paying any attention to the story, they seemed downright terrified, clinging to one another but trying to play it cool.

"I fail to see how this is any less inappropriate than Miles's song," Cat mutters with one girl huddled into her, her arm slung over the little girl and rubbing her back to soothe her.

"Once she had completed the ritual, Abigail said that no creatures should return to the village. She is bleeding out in the middle of the town square but the town doctor only watches her, and refuses to help so she begs the appointed mayor to bury her beside her mother, he answers by saying 'The graveyard is sacred and we will not let it be tainted by filthy witch blood' in her final breath she plunged for the mayor and drags her bloody palms down his face, cursing him. Once she is no longer breathing her body begins to rapidly age into the appearance of the sixty-eight-year-old woman she was supposed to be. The townsfolk cut Abigail's body into five parts, two legs, two arms, and the torso with the head still attached and buried her on the border of the village."

Everyone sat in silence "Is that the end?" someone asked, though they were in the back row of benches and I couldn't see who it was.

"Yup," I answer "Abigail gets renamed as 'the girl that time forgot' in folklore and she never gets revenge on the townsfolk for betraying her after she laid down her life for them." I had never liked the legend. Young boys thought it was cool and gory and fifteen-year-old girls thought it was poetic and tragic but I hated it to death. Other camps have fun light-hearted legends about playful forest spirits or secret villages of fairies deep in the woods but we got an edgy story about a woman who just wanted to be loved.

"I wish she let the snatchers eat them all," Ellie said the same thing that she says every year, she wasn't wrong, that's how I wished it ended too.

"Just wait until one eats you," I joke.

"Nah, I'd kick it's ass."

"I'm sure you would but right now you owe be five bucks.”

"No, we didn't pick this legend, it's true," I heard Jesse's voice cutting through the conversations of the crowd.

"Bullshit," Mordecai said, he was one of those kids who thought it was cool and edgy to be an asshole and act older than he was. He despised summer camp but every summer his parents forced him back much to our dismay.

"It's not," Bowie jumped in "The snatchers come back to visit us sometimes."

"Yeah? I thought Abigail banished them with blood magic."

"The spell is growing weaker with time, it's slowly wearing out and there hasn't been a witch to revive it," Jesse was a good storyteller, he should've been the one to deliver the camp legend. He found a way to enrapture people with his words.

That's when I decided to call it a night for my girls, the longer you stayed at the campfire, the more outlandish stories the guys would tell and I learned my lesson last year that it is very easy to give ten-year-olds nightmares. "Whitetail deer, we're heading out," I stand up.

A few of the girls had groans and complaints while others seemed happy to leave. Ellie looked up at me from where I stood and did the same "Grizzlies, we're leaving too,"

"You're just saying that because you wanna hit it, Williams," Dean said between obviously fake coughs into his fist, causing Ashlynn to bite back a smile and Miles to playfully punch him on the arm.

"Dean," Tommy gave him a stern look and said nothing else, Dean took the hint and ceased his laughter.

"Headcount," I say looking at the girls in front of me "Chloe, Leslie, Kim, Leah, Tamar, Morgan, Valentina, and Olive." Each of them stands in a close-huddled bundle "Alright, don't go off trail."

The walk back from the campfire was gorgeous during the day and borderline mortifying at night. Since the foliage was so thick you could hardly see the sky if you looked up and at night the little piece of clearing that was the trail was pitch black, we were guided by nothing more than mine and Ellie's flashlights.

The two of us had been trailing behind the girls in silence to keep an eye on everyone until Ellie felt the urge to speak up "Uh, by the way, that thing that Dean said about-

"I don't care."

"You don't?"

"Yeah he's a dick and his cabin looks like a wooden prison cell."

"It does," She furrows her eyebrows in thought "It’s like he's conditioning his campers for war."

I didn't notice when I did this, it must've been a subconscious thing but I mindlessly reached for Ellie's hand to hold. I used my free hand to keep the flashlight focused on the trail and campers ahead of us. "Sawyer has to walk back to the bunkhouses across the camp with those little monsters."

"Payback for all of the pranks he's pulled with Bowie," Ellie mutters. Sawyer took pride in initiating the prank wars every single summer the same way I strove to win the camp cup. His pranks weren't also lighthearted and fun, he and Bowie organized this prank where Sawyer put a bag over Tyson's head and dragged him to the administration office in the middle of the night and then pretended to shoot Bowie dead in front of him. Tyson quit the next morning and Sawyer got a hefty write-up.

"So are you still talking to Cat?" I ask.

"Nah, that was never gonna work out."

"Because she's too hot for you?” I joke.

"What? No," She whipped her head to look at me "Why? You wanna get with her or something, you have my blessing."

"I'm good, I'm a little preoccupied at the moment."

"Who with?" Her voice dripped with accusation. Ellie's hand clenching just the slightest bit tighter on mine.

"Work? You should know that I don't date at camp, to think that I thought you knew me," I tease her.

"What about that summer with Chandler?"

"That doesn't count," My smile drops and I fight the urge to shiver at the memories. Before I was a counsellor at Honey Hills, I was a camper and I happened to have my first kiss at age thirteen with a boy named Chandler, our braces got stuck together.

"Everyone saw, so it counts," I can't quite make out Ellie's face in the dark but I can hear the smile in her voice "Remember how Joel had to pull out the pliers."

"You need to stop before I sacrifice you to the Honey Hills Snatchers," I look ahead on the trail and I could've sworn my heart stopped "Stop!" I yell and all of the girls look back at me, I drop Ellie's hand "Where is Olive?"

All of the campers look at each other for answers, and then Leah opens her mouth "She saw a rock that was shaped like a heart and when off trail to get it."

"Well I'm not seeing a heart-shaped rock or Olive but it's super safe in these woods so no need to panic."

"No one's panicking," One of the girls in Ellie's cabin says, she was the same one who called me weird during arrival.

I run one hand down my face in exasperation, using the other to keep the flashlight trained on the girls "Everyone, stay here with Ellie, I'm going to be right back," I look at Leah "How far back did she go off trail?"

She shrugs "How am I supposed to know? I don't have a tape measure."

"Sweet," I answer before marching straight into the pitch-black woods. It was almost scarier to be in the dark with a flashlight instead of no light source, it felt like I had been in a video game or horror movie and I was about to get my throat slashed by a maniac in a mask.

Every rustle of leaves or snap of twigs made me feel uneasy. I knew the woods were safe like I had told the girls but that didn't stop irrational fear from bringing up stories of cryptids and cuts from murder podcasts. If you ever played that shitty Slenderman game, you'd know exactly what I'm looking at; not Slenderman himself, just an eery forest.

I called out for Olive, my imagination running wild with thoughts of unseen dangers lurking in the shadows. The forest seemed to come alive around me, its inhabitants whispering secrets that only the night could hear.

"Olive?" My voice echoes into the night, I did what I could to ignore whatever fear I was feeling. I had walked through these woods a million times, I knew every pathway better than I knew the city. This forest was like home to me, it didn't feel right to be so on edge.

I couldn't help but jump when something loud snapped beneath my sneaker, instinctively I brought my flashlight down to look at it, moving my foot out of the way. It had been a pentagram made out of sticks, wow really funny, it might've scared me if Ashlynn and Bowie hadn't made dozens of them and laid them around camp last summer to scare the shit out of kids. It had broken in half beneath my weight.

There was a possibility that I was going crazy in the five minutes I was alone in the woods because I thought I heard a rustle but the beam of my flashlight revealed nothing but the dense thicket of trees and the inky blackness beyond.

Something charged behind me, wrapping its skinny arms around my torse and I couldn't help but flinch. "Olive," I turned my head and brought the flashlight to shine down on her "Don't run off in the dark ever again, you scared the shit out of me."

"I'm really sorry, I won't do it again," She said. I tried to pry her off me but she was hanging on like a Koala, eventually, I got her to settle for just holding my hand. "It was stupid."

"Don't beat yourself up too much, you're ginger and that's punishment enough," I was hastily yanking her along so we could get back on the trail and shortly back into the comfort of the cabin "Did you get your rock at least?"

"Yeah," She held her palm out, the rock was an oval with the littlest indent in the middle, but I let her act like it was shaped like a heart.

"How'd you get so far out?"

"I grabbed the rock and then I saw a cat and I followed it."

Cat? "You must've seen Buckley, he's friendly," I tell her. Buckley was the resident dog at camp, he was probably older than me and wandered around before settling at Tommy and Maria's cabin for the night.

A moment after I dragged the little girl along we broke past the tree line and into the clearing of the trail. I looked around and spotted Ellie and the girls a good 40 yards or so behind. Clutching Olive's tiny hand in mine I walked towards them, flicking my flashlight on and off to catch their attention.

"Finally wrangled her," I let out an almost nervous laugh.

"You said not to go off trail," Tamar wrinkled her nose.

"Yes, Tamar, I know."

I don't know how late into the night it was when I was awoken by every girl in my cabin squabbling with one another. I got up and turned on the flashlight that I kept on my dingy bedside table "What's going on girls?"

"The snatcher is coming to get us!" Leslie cried, and I mean cried. Her face was red and puffy, her eyes were so glassy that they reflected any and all light, hot tears streaming down her round face.

That's when my annoyance turned to concern. Oh god, I was going to kick Sawyer and Dina's asses tomorrow morning and Joel for even suggesting the camp legend even though it made my campers too afraid to sleep year after year. "No, snatchers aren't real, they were made up in the sixteen hundreds to keep kids away from the forest."

"We heard it!" Morgan chimed in.

"Guys it's just the placebo effect, you've convinced yourself that it's real-

I froze when I heard a long scratch down the door and a wet guttural growl. It was low and deep, shaking me to my very core. Whoever was on the other side began to scratch harshly on the door, jiggling the locked door handle. When the handle didn't budge it began to slam itself on the door, each thump louder than the last. It was still groaning and grumbling in a harsh, awful voice.

The girls screamed, Olive and Leah, were hugging each other tightly, clenching their eyes shut. Valentina had a bottom bunk and slipped beneath the bed, covering her eyes with her hands. Leslie (like I had mentioned) was a blubbering mess, crying and hyperventilating too hard to get any words out. It looked like Morgan was trying to call someone on her phone and Tamar had her knees tucked to her chest, hugging herself. Both Kim and Chloe threw their blankets over top of them, pretending to disappear.

The voice sounded again except this time I realized it wasn't just a growl, it was a word "Girrrrllllls." Then it began to scratch the door all over again. When I tell you this voice was the most unsettling thing I've ever heard, I mean it. It was wet and phlegmy whilst being course and grumbly. From the very beginning, I had known it was a prank.

I marched towards the door flicking on the light in the cabin on and dropping my flashlight, before hammering my fists on the door "Fuck off!" I kicked the door, the sound stopped for just a moment before it slammed itself against the door.

Each thud against the sturdy wooden door reverberated through the night like a thunderclap. Whoever was sent to scare us was sure doing a good job. Their breathing was low and heavy almost as loud as the banging of the door itself. "Don't open the door," Leslie heaved out between sobs.

The girls huddled together in terror, their breaths hitching in fear as they strained to discern the source of the horrifying sounds "Girrllllllssss," It grumbled again "GIRRRLLSSSSCOMMOUT," I could see the door moving with the force of whoever was deeply committed to this role. The growling slowly morphed into a screech or maybe it was something more like a hiss.

I was almost at my breaking point, the first day of camp and I already had to deal with these bullshit pranks. I decided to slam my body against the door, matching whoever was on the other side "Go back to your cabin, you piece of shit!" I kept banging my fist and slamming my palms against the door until I heard them scuttle away.

Reaching for a baseball out of Valentina's open duffle bag, I swung the door open and saw the slender figure of what I assumed to be a teenage boy running to the pasture "Tell Sawyer to eat shit!" I yelled before throwing the ball at the figure, it hit them but it didn't do much, they just stumbled for a split second before disappearing into darkness.

"What the fuck is that noise?" Dina shouted from her cabin, I could tell I had woken her up from a nice sleep from the way her puffy eyes were squinting in my direction. A few girls poked their heads outside from the doorframe behind Dina.

"What happened?" Now Priya was walking towards my porch. Her long black hair was braided perfectly and she had her silk sleepmask pulled onto her forehead. She still looked put together in a hoodie and bunny pyjama pants.

"Can you guys shut the fuck up?" Ellie opened her door and looked me up and down.

"Be quiet!" Abby shouted from an open window in her cabin. By this point, I was sure everyone in the girl's bunk houses was wide awake and I would be getting a stern talking to by either, Tommy, Joel, or Maria, honestly, I didn't know which was worse.

Confusion quickly grew on Ellie's face, she lowered her voice "What's going on?"

All eyes were on me for answers but I didn't have any. Despite convincing myself it was a prank, that didn't stop my hands from shaking. "It was one of the boys playing a prank, don't worry about it, he's long gone by now."

"Fucking Sawyer," Dina murmured walking back into her cabin and slamming the door behind her.

"Are you girls okay in there?" Priya asked, looking at the mortified girls in my cabin, concern etched across her bronze face. "It was a dumb joke, you're all okay now."

Priya had invited herself into my cabin to offer her solace to the probably traumatized little girls, while she was doing so, I pressed myself flat against the front of the cabin, between mine and Ellie's doors, trying to process how I was going to find a way to make these girls unafraid.

"They do that prank every year and it's almost crazy how it's literally never been funny," I tell Ellie while I stare straight ahead at the pasture they faded away into.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Ellie stands next to me, leaning against the wall "We'll get them back tenfold."

"Those girls are all gonna wanna call their parents and I'm so fucked," I drag my hands down my face. I didn't want to see the look on Joel's face when I tell him about this. There's gonna be sixteen parents who will spam call the camp and verbally harass me over the phone, this wasn't my first rodeo. Sure the prank was shitty but I guarantee no one is leaving this summer with newfound trauma to tell their therapist in a decade.

"Relax, he's just gonna chew out the boys for pulling this shit again."

I looked at her for a moment, the silence hung between us like birds on a wire before I lunged in for a hug. She was a little taken aback but didn't seem to mind "I just need a hug, don't make it weird."

"Okay, wasn't planning on it," She teased. I took a deep breath in and caught the scent of firewood, petrichor, and axe body spray, an Ellie classic.

“I'm really glad I have you as a friend," I mutter into her shoulder, so quietly that I wasn't even sure she heard me. I let us stay like that for longer than I probably should've before breaking away "Okay, I gotta be a grown-up and deal with this instead of letting Priya do recon."

She nodded pressing her lips together in the same awkward way the socially inept guys from high school did "See you for breakfast?"

"For sure," I smile and walk back into my cabin to see Priya sitting next to Chloe with one soothing hand rubbing her back. "Thanks, Priya, I'll take it from here, you outta get back to your girls."

Priya had this maternal way about her, I wasn't sure what it was but she sure had the ability to nurture. She started at camp last year and I was happy to see her return. She gave her farewells to all of the girls who had only met her minutes ago and were already attached.

"Can I be in her cabin?" Kim asked, she had finally calmed down.

"No, you're in my cabin where we have fun like this every night!" I forced a smile on my face trying to get the girls back into a good mood.

"This isn't fun at all," Tamar, said, bluntly may I add.

"Yeah, this sucks," Morgan added on.

"Guys, listen," I began "I'm super sorry this happened, I need all of you to know that it's just a really bad prank, it happens every year to different cabins. Boy being boys- sorry I shouldn't say that because you guys are young and I know their gender shouldn't excuse their bad behaviour but what I'm trying to say is guys are assholes."

"Yeah, they're assholes!" Olive repeated.

"Maybe don't shout that," I pointed at her "But they are and if you want I will storm down to their cabins right now and yell at them until they cry."

The cabin began to erupt in shouts of no, little girls with wide eyes, frantically shaking their heads. "Please don't leave us alone," Leah pleaded.

"Okay, I won't, I'll yell at them in the morning. Do you guys want me to leave the lights on?" Everyone answered with a 'yes' to my question.

"Where are you going?" Valentina asked me, peeking out from beneath her thick layers of blankets.

"To my bed?”

"That's too far away from us."

I let out a deep breath "Alright, I'll just bring my sleeping bag onto the floor and I will sleep in the middle, okay?" Nothing better than sleeping on the hardwood floor in the middle of four bunkbeds and eight ten-year-old girls.

Surrounded by the shallow breathing of girls far too startled to sleep, I decided that tomorrow I would wake up dressed in adventure, straddling a star. Every day that follows I will guide these girls to the moon and back.

A/N: Hi y’all, I’ve been gone a hot minute because of medical issues and whenever I have time to write, I’m too tired to. Anyways, we’re back and better. I know I should probably finish my other series but I’ve had this one drafted for a while and since I’m super sick and basically confined to my house for the next week I’m hoping to get this series done. Thanks for reading!

@readbydayana

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