#Blood bowl 2 full screen

[shirtsgreys]

Blood bowl 2 full screen

If you’re just planning to play against the AI, though, Blood Bowl 2 probably isn’t worth the price of admission. Demanding bonus objectives should be optional and provide a reward, not a requirement to complete a level-especially in the absence of any adjustable difficulty settings. I was only able to progress by restarting the match several times until the dice all fell in my favor - another symptom of the dice-rolling problem. One required me to foul several orc players (no small feat), score a touchdown with a specific player type, and win. They made it a little more forgivable when the matches themselves hitch quite a bit in the latter half due to some mandatory “bonus” objectives that must be completed in addition to simply winning the match. It’s all the ridiculousness of the Warhammer universe with any kind of pretense of seriousness punted into the backfield, told mostly through the commentary of a sportscasting vampire and ogre duo. It'€™s all the ridiculousness of the Warhammer universe with any kind of pretense of seriousness punted into the backfield.Īn excellently voice-acted, substantial single-player campaign with an entertaining story makes up for some of these roster woes. Even if they were designed to be specialized, they could have easily expanded their rosters with niche specialists that fit their playstyle instead of simply taking abilities away. The Chaos roster is missing passing and catching specialists, for example, which limits their viable strategies to a very narrow range of options. The latter three races feel almost like an afterthought, and lack basic roles needed to play a well-rounded game. But High Elves have only four player types, and Chaos and Bretonnians have a pitiful three. Humans, Dwarfs, Dark Elves, and Skaven can build a team from five unit types, with all their bases covered. You can take your pick from eight races, but not all are created equal. My biggest complaint with Blood Bowl 2, however, is that the unit rosters are hugely unbalanced between races. There really isn’t enough time in a game to score more than three or four times between both teams, and holding onto the ball indefinitely to run out the clock when you’re ahead is a viable, yet anticlimactic strategy. This led to a lot of low-scoring matches when I was pitted against an even opponent, and that can be unexciting because of a lack of meaningful action. If your opponent wins the kickoff, you either have to intercept, pick up a fumble, or let them score to get possession. And all that brainy stuff aside, it never got old watching a one-ton ogre backhand a snooty, elven running back into the bleachers.Ī point of consternation is that because the matches are only 16 turns long, and there are no downs to limit how long one team can possess the ball. Against more physically scary teams, I often had to double up on the attack for a flanking bonus to have any chance of success, adding another layer of intense consideration. Every drive forced me to decide how many of my limited roster of players to use beating the snot out of the opposing side, how many to use trying to obtain or keep the ball, and how I was going to pull ahead or stay ahead over the course of 16 turns. Still, when the dice gods seem kind (or, at least, impartial), the breakneck pace of making decisions under the gun of a turn timer got my blood pumping and my tactical senses tingling.

[mainsace]

Blood bowl 2 full screen

#Blood bowl 2 full screen upgrade#

#Blood bowl 2 full screen Ps4#

#Blood bowl 2 full screen Pc#

#Blood bowl 2 full screen windows#

#Blood bowl 2 full screen Pc#

For example, if your PC is unable to stay at 60Hz or above, each dip down to 30Hz when Double Buffering is enabled will make the game feel stuttery. Double Buffering eliminates the delay but will drop the frame rate to half each time it falls below the refresh rate. This option is used in the console versions of the game. Triple Buffering introduces a single frame delay to ensure smooth output regardless of frame rate fluctuations below the display refresh rate. This setting determines how the VSync setting operates. This setting toggles the game’s built-in VSync solution for the elimination of screen tearing. This setting determines if the game will run in a window, borderless window or in exclusive fullscreen mode.

#Blood bowl 2 full screen windows#

For windowed and borderless window modes, the game defaults to your Windows desktop refresh rate. This option is only modifiable when using exclusive fullscreen mode. Users can force the game to output to their display at a specific refresh rate. If you want to lower resolution to increase performance, use the built-in Resolution Scaling option for the best results. We recommend always using the native resolution of your device for the best image quality. The output resolution of the game to your display. It will be greyed out if only one display is connected. Output Monitorĭesignates the monitor on which the game will be displayed for users with multi-monitor configurations. This allows laptop users to specify which GPU the game will be rendered on (if the laptop has integrated and discrete GPUs built-in). Some of the available graphics options will require that the game be restarted to take effect. The graphics settings for Red Dead Redemption 2 can be accessed from the Story Mode main menu before you launch the game or once you’ve loaded in by pausing and navigating to the settings menu.

#Blood bowl 2 full screen upgrade#

Red Dead Redemption 2 PC graphics settings guide The PC version of Red Dead Redemption 2 offers a substantial upgrade over its console counterparts. Use these recommendations as a starting point for your graphical experimentation rather than a definitive authority. All systems vary and the game may perform better or worse depending on your exact hardware configuration. It is impossible to definitively test all scenarios, so the performance and settings recommendations contained within this guide are based on our own findings. Those with higher-end PCs will have lots of room to experiment with the options Rockstar has provided.ĭisclaimer: Red Dead Redemption 2 is an insanely large and complex game. If your hardware falls closer to the minimum required configuration, you might want to stick with the lowest possible settings to ensure smooth performance. This guide will explain those settings so that you can get the most out of your time with the PC version of Red Dead Redemption 2.īefore diving headfirst into the ocean of graphics settings, check the official system requirements for the game to see how your PC stacks up. Rockstar opted to include loads of graphics settings in Red Dead Redemption 2 so that players could tinker with performance and image quality. That question was answered on November 5, 2019, when the game launched on PC, bringing along many graphical improvements.

#Blood bowl 2 full screen Ps4#

Debuting on Xbox One and PS4 last October, Rockstar’s western opus pushed the console to their limits and left PC gaming enthusiasts wondering what a PC version might look like. While it was not officially announced until late in the year, Red Dead Redemption 2 had been one of the most anticipated PC titles in a long time.

[baronessvonglitter]

Halftime Show

Joel Miller, Javier Pena, Dave York, Frankie Morales, Marcus Moreno x f!sexworker!reader (lucky girl)

Word count: 2.7K

Summary: you're an escort hired for a private Super Bowl party hosted by a mysterious client and his four friends

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, reader's work name is "Angel", reader is a sex worker, mildly dubious consent (though she does state that the men can do as they want, it's her first experience in sex work), rough sex (but no violence done to reader), group sex, threesome to sixsome, oral sex (f & m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, double p in v, anal sex & fingering, multiple penetration, hand jobs, face fucking, facial, verbal abuse/humiliation, squirting, swallowing, creampie, spitroasting, reader gets slapped w/a dick for a bit, porn without plot, you know.. all the sweet stuff.

Author's Note: another cross-post from AO3 but honestly, football is barely mentioned so if you want you can ignore the whole Super Bowl aspect. Y'all might know by now I love a little romance in my smut but this particular fic has zero romance. Reader is there to do a job and leaves having done it very well. Also.. I'm considering creating a part 2 featuring more Pedro Boys, so any input on that is welcome!

FULL MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST

MARCUS MORENO MASTERLIST | FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST

DAVE YORK MASTERLIST | JAVIER PENA MASTERLIST

It's your first day as an escort and you're a little nervous. Okay, a lot nervous. You never know what you're going to expect from clients, but these guys you're about to meet have been pre-screened and even had to turn in blood tests just to be considered as clients. The escort service you work for is very prestigious. You're even driven to the location by a security detail who is tasked to wait outside for you. This makes you feel a little better.

You take a quick look at your outfit before you leave the car. The rule is you show up in character and leave in character. No real names, no background stories, just a persona and an exchange of goods. Simple as that. Should be easy enough.

Taking a deep breath, you exit the car and go up to the front door.

The doorbell rings, and Dave York springs from the sofa, a little smirk on his lips. "Guys, I think she's here," he announces, and the rest of the group look up from the Super Bowl game, groaning when Dave mutes the sound even though it's just gone to commercial.

"Who?" Frankie Morales asks, swigging a beer.

"The halftime entertainment," Dave answers mysteriously.

Marcus Moreno and Joel Miller trade inquisitive glances. Javier Peña raises his brow. He knows what Dave means.

Dave brings you into the living room and you take a quick survey of your surroundings: the home is nicer than most, two stories, decorated tastefully but with an obvious woman's touch. You give him a once-over. He's forty-ish, handsome, clean-shaven.

"The wife got the house in the divorce," Dave tells you, as if reading your mind. "This is my last weekend here, so let's make it count!" He raises his glass of whiskey to the guys, most of whom also salute with their drinks. They are all eyeing you like a pack of dogs that haven't eaten in days.

Marcus, a kind-looking man with dark eyeglasses who gives you Clark Kent vibes, smiles awkwardly at you, blushing. "Aren't you going to introduce us?" he asks Dave politely.

"Angel," you give your working name, smiling at each of the men. They're all cute: some scruffy, some dapper.

Dave smirks. "I'm Dave, and these are my buddies Marcus, Frankie, Joel, and Javier." Each of the guys smiles or nods at you as they're introduced.

"I heard you guys are looking to get wild," you say, opening your winter coat to reveal your see-through lingerie. Joel, Javier, and Dave whoop in excitement. Marcus and Frankie are more reticent but can't take their eyes off you. "What do you plan on doing with little ol' me?" you ask innocently, kneeling on the cushioned ottoman in the middle of the living room. You glide your hands over your body and smile as the men shift in their seats, watching you, getting hard already at the idea of you offering yourself.

Dave is the first to put his hands on you, first on your hips then grabbing your ass. Joel, an older man with graying hair and green flannel shirt, interrupts him, rising from his seat. "Now, who told you you get to go first?" he asks in a deep voiced Texan accent.

"First? We're running a train on this girl?" Javier asks from his seat, a cigarette burning between his lips. He's dressed like someone from the 1970s but his clothes fit him well, accentuating a lean physique.

"You can do whatever you want with me," you tell them with confidence. "But of course, no hitting, no biting, no leaving marks." You are resolute on this, as is your employer.

"Hell, darlin', we're not monsters," Joel says, his eyes full of concern for you. The others chime in that they aren't into really rough stuff. Only Dave looks a little disappointed by your rule.

"I'd expect you to be more methodical about this," Javier tells Dave, rising from his seat and casting an amused glance at his friend. He eyes you up and down then reaches into your bra to cup your breast while his other hand dives between your thighs. "Christ, she's already wet. And so fucking tight. You haven't been doing this kind of work long, have you, baby?"

"You all are my first clients," you admit, your breath hitching as his thick fingers tease you.

Javier manages a small smile then looks over at the group. "You haven't thought about these guys," he tells Dave, and nods at Frankie and Marcus. "They're completely baffled by this."

"We're not, I know exactly what's going on," insists Frankie, an adorable middle-aged guy wearing a t-shirt, cargo pants and baseball cap. His innocence is palpable and quite touching.

Dave and Javier's hands are still on you, grabbing and groping. It's a good start. "I'm paying for her. I should get to go first," Dave complains.

A few of the guys (well, okay, Javier and Dave) start to bicker about it, fueled by testosterone and alcohol. Joel strides up to you, effectively taking you away from Dave and Javier. "It's kind of a shame that no one's puttin' her feelings into consideration. She's gonna be providin' a huge service for us. Least we can do is give her a little pleasure beforehand." With that, he takes you and places you on the ottoman, kneeling between your open thighs. He rips open the crotch of your lingerie and dives in, sucking on your pussy. Your initial shock gives way to thrill as you register the warm, wet stiffness of his tongue rasping your folds, your clit, not taking his time about it. Your fingers curl into his hair as you lift your thighs back. You're still on the clock, still giving a show, even if this part is currently for your benefit. With Joel's aid you manage to take the now-ruined lingerie off and are naked but for your knee-high stockings.

"Way to get the party started," Javier says approvingly. "I'm not about to waste any time." He goes to you and sits you up. You take a moment to admire the bulge in those tight trousers before he pulls them down enough to take out his thick shaft. You obediently open your mouth to accept it and he slowly moves into your throat, allowing you to get used to him. Saliva pools in your mouth as you start to moan around his dick, still exhilarated by Joel's ravishing you with his tongue. You feel a hand massaging your breast and look over to see Frankie, his puppy dog eyes wide with wonder, as if he can't believe you're real.

"That feels so good," you tell him, sensing he likes praise. He lights up, encouraged by you, and continues to pinch and pull at your nipple before sucking on it, extracting a pleasured moan from your lips before you go back to sucking off Javier.

Marcus and Dave stand back. Marcus looks flustered and Dave has his hands on his hips, making a face. He's figuring out where to squeeze in but at the same time doesn't want to share.

Meanwhile you're keeping busy with Javier's cock in your mouth, Frankie's mouth on your breast, and Joel still lapping at you between your thighs. The most exquisite feelings comes over you and your scream is muffled as you come so hard, your body spasming while surrounded by these men. It's the most sensually charged moment of your entire life.

Joel lifts himself up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "She's wetter'n a cucumber in a convent," he chuckles, standing and trying to get the feeling back in his knees. Frankie then moves down to finger you just as Javier is on the verge of coming. Just as he gives a strangled growl, spilling his cum into your willing throat, you feel one of Frankie's fingers in your ass. You gasp and clench around him as Dave takes Javier's place. Your body is buzzing with energy, with lust.

"You're gonna earn every penny," Dave growls, thrusting into your mouth as if he hates you. You don't have a gag reflex but you pretend to choke on him, bringing tears to your eyes.

Frankie starts to undo his pants then quickly steps away. "I'm, uh, not ready yet."

"Let her take care of it," Javier says, lighting up another cigarette.

"No smoking in here," Dave warns, his eyes still on the mascara running down your face.

"Fuck you."

You start stroking Frankie, smiling at the plumpness of his cock, uncut. He's gazing down at you with tenderness in his eyes.

"Marcus, you joinin' us?" Joel asks, getting ready to pull down his jeans.

Marcus watches from the adjoining kitchen, his beer growing warm in his hand. "Maybe.. in a bit." He smiles nervously.

Joel shrugs and unzips himself, releasing his thick, veiny cock. It's all you can do not to stare at it in wonder.

"Hey, I was gonna go first," Dave says aggressively.

"You snooze you lose. Aren't we all gonna get a turn?" Joel smirks before aligning himself to your opening. "Such a tiny, perfect little pussy.. you're gonna be completely wrecked when we're done with you, babygirl..."

Your eyes widen when he begins to slide into you, but you're already slick enough to take him. You remove Dave from your mouth so you can watch Joel's cock disappear inch by inch into your cunt.

"Don't forget about me," Dave warns you, tapping his dick against the side of your face. You compliantly return to sucking him off and he grunts contentedly in response. At the same time Joel pushes in to the hilt. "Hell she's taking every inch of me," he groans. "What a good little slut she is.."

"Well shit, don't stretch her out before the rest of us," Dave complains.

"That's not a particular worry of mine," Javier smirks, getting himself ready again as he goes to your free hand, opposite Frankie, who is already hard and ready. Joel is building up a nice tempo, sliding deep inside your pussy, Dave thrusts avidly into your mouth, Frankie and Joel are watching you as you zealously prime them for whatever they want to do next.

"Oh my god!" Frankie's eyes go wide and without warning he comes on your stomach and you make a sound of surprise when you feel the warm stickiness of him on your skin. "I'm sorry," he mumbles.

"Don't be," you tell him with a smile. "Think you've got another one in you?" you wink and scoop his cum into your mouth as Frankie watches in wonder.

Dave seems upset that you keep removing him from your mouth to talk to Frankie, but Frankie looks so happy that you're not grossed out or upset. Dave grabs hold of the back of your head and rams himself in your throat. "Less talking, bitch," he growls.

You would give him a death glare but then you feel Joel speeding up, his thrusts strong, the loud slapping of your flesh fills the air. Before you know it you're throbbing around him, milking him as you feel him finish inside you. He doesn't stay long, and soon Javier takes his place. "Flip over, cariño," he says, moving you on all fours. Dave takes over from the front, Frankie strokes himself while fondling your tit. Javier grabs your ass and slides in, letting you feel every inch of him as you moan around Dave's cock. He cums soon, spraying the back of your throat with his thick white cum.

"Get in there, Frankie!" Javier encourages, pumping away none too gently as he watches your ass ripple with each thrust. "Marcus get over here and do something or you'll miss out!"

Marcus seems frozen to his spot but Frankie follows orders and you open wide to receive him. He looks down at you like you're some kind of miracle, and you make sure to look at him the same way, charmed by his good nature.

Javier leans close to you. "I'm gonna put it in your ass, cariño."

"Do whatever you want," you purr.

He pulls out of you and you feel a warm glob of saliva at your rear entrance. Javier smears it around your puckered hole and eases himself in. You gasp, fists clenching the edge of the ottoman. "Fill all her holes, boys," Dave says, watching from the side. "That's what she's here for."

Frankie pulls away from your mouth. "Let me get under you." he says, and Javier pulls out enough for you two to get positioned. Frankie aligns himself at your entrance and sinks in easily. "Jesus, you feel so good, Angel.." He thrusts up into you as Javier continues to fuck your ass. The three of you are a fusion of lust and frenzy. Joel watches, running his tongue over his lips, still tasting your sweet essence. Dave tells everyone he's next to claim your ass. Marcus has since inched closer, undeciding yet if he's going to join, or how. He's obviously hard, his eyes dark with craving.

"Marcus," you mumble as he approaches your side. "Fuck my mouth," you beg.

He suppresses a gasp but he unbuckles his belt. "I haven't.. in a while.."

"That's okay.." you smile at him, helping him pull down his pants and briefs, running your nails over his solid girth, and he immediately rises to the occasion. "You were shy before, but not now," you notice, and give his cock a couple of gentle tugs before taking him into your waiting mouth, just the tip, and letting him go in as deep as he wants.

Javier speeds up, fingers digging into your hips as all your cries fill the room. He comes, filling your ass as he grunts savagely, causing you in turn to come, clenching around Frankie who buries himself deep inside as he lets go. Once Javier pulls away Dave takes over, gripping your hips and moving you against him.

You finger your lonely pussy, unable to make yourself feel as good as any of these men have. “Oh god, I want all of you at once.. please!” You beg.

Marcus approaches you and lays beneath you as Dave moves away, scoots up so he’s practically standing over you. Joel claims your mouth and Javier lets you pump him with your fist. Frankie approaches from behind and at the same time Marcus enters you from beneath. Two men fuck your cunt, stretching you, ruining you, and all you can do is give them what they want and then ask for more.. one man in your mouth, in your hand, in your ass.. you are working for every penny just as Dave said.

You're practically dazed by the countless feelings of pleasure coming from every man inside you, the way they move, the way they taste, how their hands grope your ass or your breasts, your hips.. you're just a receptacle for them, a plaything. This allows your brain to soak everything in without having to think. Just feeling. None of them really care about your pleasure, not at this point. You're just a means to an end, and you like it. You've never felt more alive.

"God!" you gasp as you feel yet another wave of absolute euphoria threaten to take you under. You don't even bother to hold back. As soon as you come you feel them all come with you, like tiny explosions set off in a chain. You gulp down Joel's spunk as Dave spills himself inside your ass, and Marcus and Frankie throb then release, one only seconds after the other. Javier takes control of himself from you and spurts his cum onto your face. For the first time ever in your life, you squirt, gasping at the relief and suddenness of it. The six of you try hard to catch your breath, all of you taking in the moments of this night.

"I don't think I'll be able to cum for weeks," Joel says, chuckling as he pulls up his pants.

Showered and dressed, you leave in a skimpy outfit that covers more than the lingerie did, as Dave uses the escort agency's app to send you a very generous tip from himself and the rest of the guys. The guys, cleaned up and all in relaxed moods, watch the game, not even upset that they missed most of the second half. You take your money and leave, blowing a kiss to the guys.

"God damn, you hired a good one," Javier mutters to Dave.

"Let's make this an annual thing," Dave smirks. "Next one's on you, Peña."

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Scream week request!

Ethan Landry x fem!reader with prompt #2 (“Did you touch yourself to the thought of me?’’) please!!!

Thank you!!!

SCREAM WEEK 4/7

I got so many requests for this one!

Warnings: 18+, mention of masturbation

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

There was a leak at your apartment, so Chad kindly offered you to come stay at his and Ethan’s place until it was repaired. It was small for three people, but you made it work. 

You set your suitcase down by the couch, tired of rolling it for the past twenty minutes through the busy subway. ‘’Thanks, again. I would have asked Tara, but she and Sam got into a fight and I don't want to be caught in the middle of it. You know how they get.’’

‘’I wouldn’t want to either,’’ Chad said, knowing the Carpenter sisters and their temper. ‘’The couch's not new, but I've fallen asleep on it many times and it's not too bad. I'll fetch you some blankets and pillows.’’

Your first two days living with the boys didn't go without awkward encounters. First, you walked in on Chad in the bathroom — thankfully, he was just shaving and had a towel on. Then, there was that one time you were looking through your suitcase for a specific shirt and Ethan tripped on one of your bras. You didn’t think it was that awkward — it’s just a bra —, but his cheeks went bright red, not used to seeing girls undergarments.

On the third day, that’s when the awkward level skyrocketed. 

You were showering, but when you got out and reached for your towel, you realized you had forgotten it on the back of the couch... Making a naked run to get it was out of the question, so you had to call out through the door and ask someone to bring it to you. 

Chad was busy in the kitchen, so Ethan brought it to you. You cracked the door slightly, just enough for the towel to be slipped through, but as he handed it over, his gaze inadvertently caught sight of your naked reflection in the bathroom mirror. You didn’t notice anything, just wanting to dry yourself and finish getting ready, but the incident sent blood rushing to his pants. 

When you came out of the bathroom, Ethan’s door was closed. You thought he had already left, but you could hear muffled sounds and moans coming from inside. 

A few minutes after Chad left, Ethan came out of his room. His shirt was different and his hair was a bit ruffled. 

‘’You’re here,’’ he remarked, halting his steps, surprised to see you.

Sitting at the kitchen island, you hummed, knowing better than you speak with your mouth full. 

‘’I thought you had a morning class?’’ Ethan said, taking a seat across from you and avoiding your eyes.

‘’Not until ten,’’ you explained, taking another spoonful of your smoothie bowl. Having Chad around to make you breakfast in the morning was something you would miss when returning to your apartment. ‘’Do you want some?’’ you asked, pointing at your bowl. 

Ethan shook his head. ‘’Eh, no thanks. I’m not hungry.’’ He set his laptop on the island and turned it on. ‘’I need to re-write my business notes from yesterday. My laptop died, so I had to use good old paper and a pen...and my bad handwriting.’’ 

You finished eating in silence, scrolling on your phone to pass time. ‘’Ethan?’’ 

He hummed, his eyes not leaving his screen. 

‘’Did you touch yourself thinking about me?’’ you asked bluntly, catching him off guard. 

‘’W-what? No,’’ Ethan stammered, his cheeks and ears turning crimson. ‘’I would never…’’ 

‘’You can tell me if you were.’’ You purposely took your time licking the purple smoothie off your spoon, knowing he would sneak a glance at you when you wouldn’t be looking. 

‘’I know. But I wasn't,’’ he replied hastily, mentally groaning when he caught your purple stained tongue. 

‘’Then why were you saying my name?’’

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana  @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys @die4niyahhh  @sl4sh3rfuck3r @radiant-whore  @Meadzy21 @luci1fer @nomorespahgetti  @bloodyhw  @depthsofdespairr  @bellysbeach @wilmalovegood @loupiotesworld  @wenvierismycomfort @t-candy  @s-al-em  @darylscvmdumpster  @tommysaxes  @adaydreamaway08 @johannelis2302nely @aqshua @lynbubble @luiise @planetkt @vampyrgoff @adrluvh @mymultiveres  @miqi-16 @not-liah  @lovenats01 @doestalker @lonelywitchv2 @lausley336  @arinexeisnotworking @halforangecuts @l3ndryz  @ilovelandry  @your-platonic-gay-lover @danniackerman  @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam  @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam @zoeynicolas @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @pumkinnroses @cruzgrecia @sunnysunny133696 @aesthetixhoe  @gizmodecaprio @bingsbitch @buckyswhxre  @emerald-09

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[deceptive-daydreams]

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Eight - Sweet as Apple Pie

W/C: 6.9K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Honesty ensues well into the quiet hours of Halloween.

A/N: this chapter is so full of dialogue....do y'all prefer a lot of dialogue throughout chapters or more scenery descriptions? Or a good amount of both?

Masterlist

Prev | Next

The living room was only illuminated by the flashing, gory scenes from the TV playing A Nightmare on Elm Street.  It wasn’t your first choice and you had made that clear as you talked your way through the intense parts, keeping your focus on the popcorn bowl in your lap as you scavenged for a melty M&M.  You preferred something more lighthearted but your unintentional guest insisted that with it being Halloween and all, it was ‘like the law’ to watch a horror movie.  Perhaps you were somewhat okay with it, at least you didn’t have to pretend to have fun at a party and you were in fact cozied up on the couch watching a movie while eating your Halloween candy like you’d longed for in the first place.  The only difference was the blood and violence playing out on the screen that you hadn’t planned to endure.

“You’re not even paying attention.”  Eddie tosses a pillow your way, sending popcorn and M&Ms tumbling all over your lap.  

“Eddie!”  You scold.

When you glare at him, you’re met with an expression that can only be recognized as the kind someone exhibits when doing all they can to contain their laughter.  Crinkled eyes and pursed lips ready to explode in a fit of boyish giggles.  He wasn’t drunk anymore, no longer able to escape your incessant teasing should you choose to hold it over him.

A handful of popcorn mixed with candy is flung at him, a piece successfully clinging to his hair and several M&Ms rolling down his chest into the crevices of the couch that would never see the light of day again.  There’s no ignoring the adorable pout on your lips and the way you’d become such a stubborn thing from the smallest inconvenience.  

“Haven’t I been through enough tonight?”  He frowns, dramatically picking the snack out of his hair to toss it toward you, landing somewhere on the rug below for you to some day clog your vacuum with.

Ignoring his question, the bowl is abandoned on the coffee table, movie long forgotten about as you bring your legs up to your chest and shift your eyes directly to him.  Beneath his remaining eyeliner, you can make out the exhaustion forming under his eyes, bags growing more intense with every waking hour, his chapped lips parted ever so slightly as the light from the TV flashes over his features. 

You begin to feel selfish for changing into your fluffy pajamas earlier, your pants a checkered orange and black pattern while you opted to wear a well loved gray t-shirt with faded letters that could barely be made out anymore.  Eddie remained in his black jeans and tattered cut off, his jacket that previously adorned your shoulders hung snugly on the hook near the door.  

There was no way you had anything that would accommodate his long legs although you could probably get by with offering him one of your larger shirts.  You wonder if his skin is covered in goosebumps or if he tends to run hot and remain unbothered by the chilliness of your home.  Embarrassingly so, you hadn’t learned how to use the fireplace yet.  Blankets were a necessity and you found yourself cuddling up with nearly five at a time as the weather grew more frigid.

“I meant to ask, what is your costume?  Yourself?”  You question.  An attempt to ease into offering him something warmer to wear as well as genuine curiosity.

“No?”  He leans forward laughing, his attention bouncing between you and the movie.  “Ozzy.  Ozzy Osbourn.”  He states proudly.

His tattoos draw you in as he brings his arms up to cross over his chest, his posture uncharacteristically comfortable on the opposite end of your couch.  You were sure he was almost sober so it must have been sleep deprivation allowing him such luxury.  A laugh bubbles in the back of your throat as you process his costume, something so convenient as it was practically his actual wardrobe, only a tad more revealing than what you were used to him wearing.

“What, so you just smudge some eyeliner on and you're Ozzy?”  You giggle.

“Oh.”  He scoffs.  “And you put your hair in pigtails and you’re Dorothy?”

“Um, no?”  You cock a brow.  “A lot of work went into my costume.  It just looks like you shredded up your poor shirt and smudged black all over your eyes.” 

A giggle vibrates through his body, an actual giggle, almost a squeal as he buries his head in his hands.  Another postcard for the space in your brain that was becoming larger with each interaction.

“Also, aren’t you cold?  I’m fucking freezing and I’m covered in layers–”

Eddie continues to laugh, the image of a slap happy boy becoming clearer and clearer.  His heavy hand makes contact with his thigh, deep chuckles following as you study the crows feet forming at the corner of his eye.  Extra prominent tonight.

“I am–I’m fucking cold.”  He throws his head back.

It’s contagious, the energy lingering in the air as you join in.  You’re unaware of what’s so funny; it seems the mundane act of being alive is hilarious.

Tears threaten to spill, the kind that don’t come around very often; the kind that hold pools of joy, seas of dopamine longing to spill down your cheeks.  A salty mess that would paint the prettiest memory, glossy eyelids and parted lashes more immaculate than any piece of art Eddie could imagine.  Before you can allow him to indulge in such a sight, fat tears of euphoria are sucked back in, any excess wiped on the pads of your fingers.  

“Do you…want a shirt?  I-I dunno if I have any that’ll fit comfortably but…if you’re cold?  Or I might have a sweatshirt!”  You hop up, recovering from your fit of laughter in your moment of realization.

You don’t give him time to answer, immediately retreating to your room.  His heart feels as if it's gnawing through his chest at the way you worry about him; the fact that you would even be concerned for his well being is still something he would never get used to.  Not many people have offered him that courtesy throughout his life, always equating his family name to something undeserving of any friendly gesture.

When you return, an oversized navy blue sweatshirt in hand with a grin on your face, he swears his heart convulses on the spot.  And when your fingers brush against his as you offer it to him, his lungs are rendered breathless, the desire to linger a little longer pulling him in like gravity.  Your soft skin against his rough fingertips is enough to mess with his brain chemistry, reducing him to a useless man at your mercy, though he’d never admit it.  Not because he didn’t want to but because he was him, and why would someone as delicate and kind hearted as you ever settle for someone as damaged and twisted as him?

Someone so dainty, so lovely, would never in a million years look at him and find him desirable.

When he thanks you, it comes out as an ungrateful mumble, his eyes suddenly glued to his lap in insecurity.  That look on his face that you’d come to recognize, a look of absence.  His mind fed on him and sucked him dry of emotion, eyes blank and devoid of the life that just seconds ago they were so full of.

“You okay?”  You ask, a gentle approach, voice velvety soft with hints of concern.

He doesn’t give you a verbal answer, only nodding while his gaze stays on his lap, the sweatshirt held weakly between his ringed fingers.  His silence is reason enough to believe that it was a lie.  You just couldn’t put your finger on what exactly had happened in the time you’d left the room to you handing him an article of clothing.

“Do you want…to go to sleep?”

The question pierces his doughy brain, stuffed with self depreciation and alienation, only a smidge of room available to process your words.  But even as the words puncture his thoughts, the self hatred won’t deflate fast enough.  So he stares.  He stares at you, those big chocolatey eyes dipped in sadness and self loathing, the ambience now melancholy.  An ache seeps into your chest, traveling up your throat and stinging your eyes at the sight of such a sorrowful man who had just moments ago blessed your ears with his deep laughter and looked at you with such glee.  Suddenly he was gone and once again, he was chasing his inner monologue, you could tell by the way he stared off into the distance, how he had removed himself from the room momentarily.

“Hey, what’s going on?”  You crouch in front of him, the blue light from the TV the only thing allowing you to map out his features.

“Nothing.”  He whispers, snapping out of his trance.

His irises warm up, only slightly, but you can still make out the muted glaze cast over them leftover from his moment of despair.  He isn’t out of the woods yet.

“I-I’m fine.  Sorry, was just…thinking.”  He mutters, slipping the sweatshirt over his head, the material fitting comfortably over his torso, hair now frizzier than before.

“What are you thinking about?”  

You almost lose him again, thoughts swallowing him and nearly drowning him right before you.  But the touch of your hand over his pulls him out, a token of your kindness.  A wordless reassurance that reels him back in.  

“Everything.”  He sniffles, head shaking as if to ward off the waterworks.

Eddie doesn’t let any tears fall, withholds them.  Forces them back into his tear duct, regretting the vulnerability he was further pushing onto you.

“Like what?”  You gently push, thumb stroking over the back of his hard working hand.

Moments follow your question, contemplation behind his gaze while he hesitates.  The world seemed to never be patient enough for him.  So you would.  

For him, you would.

As the gap of silence grows larger, you only give him more encouragement in the form of your thumb continuing to stroke his knuckles, your stare soft on his profile.  There was no rush, not when he’d just hours ago welcomed you into his tortured past.  Not when his nose crinkled as his eyes grew wet again, lashes coated and lip bitten between his teeth anxiously.

“Um–”  He chokes out, not a single tear allowed past his waterline.

You offer a squeeze of your hand, sympathy pouring from your touch into him.  He only tenses up at the sentiment, its effect foreign to him.

“I should go.”  Dragging his hands down his face, he’s puzzled when you stop him from standing.

“Eddie.”  You maintain eye contact with him, even as his eyes dart around the room, you attempt to keep him focused on you.  “I don’t know what’s bugging you but…it can’t be anything crazier than what you’ve told me tonight.”  

Uncertainty pools in his dark irises, honey hues nearly gone in the almost-dark room.  The TV lighting only offers you the tiniest crumb of espresso and swirling caramel that usually brought him to life.  Though, you aren’t entirely sure they’d even be there had you turned the lights on, his grim demeanor clearly yanking away any happiness he had experienced moments prior.

“I-I–why…why are you trying to help me?”  He struggles to get the question out, appearing to be engaged in an internal battle, almost as if he was blindly attempting to make his way back to you, his mind holding him hostage.

You can’t hide the surprise taking over your face, the utter horror at the fact that he would ask such a thing.  Maybe he regretted sharing everything now that he was allegedly sober again?  But that didn’t change your feelings on the topic, you cared.  Whether he word-vomited due to his scattered brain thriving off the alcohol or whether he was stone sober, his feelings mattered to you and you wanted him to know it.

“Because you’re a person, Eddie.”  You begin, once again taking his reluctant, clammy hand and draping your touch over his knuckles.  “Any person deserves compassion.  So what’s bugging you?  I won’t judge.  Promise.”

Holding your pinky out, an empathetic smile paints your lips.

“Pinky promise.”

Within seconds his eyes go from dark discs of despair to those famous honey pools of fondness.  You take note the way he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his pinky around yours, warmth blossoming in your chest and spreading all throughout your body.  And if he needs another moment of quiet after that, he doesn’t communicate it but you gladly welcome it.  

My feelings.  My feelings are bugging me.  Taking me hostage.

It’s what he wants to say but realistically he shoves the dreadful words into the back of his throat as he comes up with something else, another way to convey his thoughts without simply outing himself, making a fool out of himself that you would surely laugh at.  

“I-uh, I’m not very good at this.”  Eddie tries to escape the conversation.

To be fair, he did the same thing with his therapist, it wasn’t anything personal.  It was his own flaw.  But you may have better luck than his therapist, he regrets.  Simply because he would become something he didn’t want you to see him as: an emotionally stunted boy with too many complicated feelings, love drunk on the first girl who had given him more than the time of day.  Just because you were nice to him, didn’t entitle him to reciprocated feelings.

“That’s okay.  I don’t think anyone is.”  You whisper.

Eddie’s eyes shut tightly, his thoughts too painful to voice yet he forces them out–or rather they claw their way out of his throat the second he looks into your begging eyes.  Wordless pleas reach out to him as his brain threatens to shut down any and all communications.

“I just–I don’t…I shouldn’t even be here.”  He sighs deeply.  “I-I don’t deserve to be here.”

At his admission, you find it difficult to voice anything comforting.  Any words you had waiting for him were swallowed at the raw emotion he was displaying.  The look on your face forces him to continue, he needs to fix the situation but he fears he may just make it worse and chase you further away.  He had been digging his own grave for some time now, never learning when to just stop and lay in it.

“Chrissy–um, Chrissy.”  He whispers, eyes fluttering shut.

None of it made sense and he was trying his hardest to wrap things back around and allow you to make the connection in your head.

“You–you remind me of…C-Chrissy.”  A tear trails down his cheek, his hand rapidly wiping it away as he pathetically attempts to repair the conversation.

Instead of offering another squeeze to his hand, you make your way onto the couch next to him, thigh dangerously close to his as you run a hand up and down his back.  You expect the discussion to end there but he only continues.

“And–and that scares me.  Cause, it-it should’ve been me, I should’ve been dead–I should be dead!”  Eddie’s face grows more red, the topic clearly weighing heavy on his heart.  “I can’t–I can’t do it again.”  More tears flow down his tinted cheeks, uncontrollable at this point.

“It feels–it feels l-like it’s going to–to happen again.”  He becomes more and more worked up, barely breathing while he rushes the words out in one breath.  “Like–like the universe or some shit i-is gonna punish me.”  

Your eyes sting, that uncomfortable frown beginning to pull at the corners of your mouth as you watch him self destruct before you.  Something you’d never ask of him though he was voluntarily spilling the contents of his bleeding heart into your hands.

“Okay, okay.”  You begin to soothe.

“I d-don’t get good things.”  “G-good things don’t–don’t happen to me.”  He hiccups.

“Shhh, you don’t need to get upset with yourself.”

Bravely, you go to use the corner of a nearby blanket to blot at the tears trailing down his face to which he flinches away, shaking his head.  That alone would normally be enough to send you to the other side of the couch, bashfully avoiding eye contact until he took the initiative.  But something within you realized that he shouldn’t be left to take the initiative.  Not when he was displaying such pain, such vulnerability that you were convinced not many people had ever seen.  

“God, so pathetic.”  He utters under his shaky breath.

“Hey.”  You softly scold, hand wrapping around his forearm.  He doesn’t flinch at your advances this time.  “You are not pathetic.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Eddie.”

“Don’t throw me a pity party.”  He grits.

“I am not throwing you a pity party.  Stop that.”

It’s out of character, the way you stand up to him.  If it were anyone else you probably wouldn’t have made it this far into the conversation but you can feel your blood boiling as he dismisses his emotions.  You can’t sit by and allow him to continue throwing punches at himself.  Your sudden anger appears to silence him, his glassy eyes glancing at you in disbelief but still obeying your demand.

“I’m being a hypocrite but I-I just…stop.”  You whisper, the devastated look on your face enough to bring him to his knees if he were standing.  Instead he remains seated with his focus solely on you.

“I know…”  You search for the right words.  “I know what it’s like to feel like you don’t deserve good things.”

Eddie doesn’t interject your speech, only listens intently with sad eyes and wet cheeks.  He doesn’t deserve the time day let alone your dedication to his sorrows and worries.  

“I, um, I grew up practically raising my siblings.”  You begin to explain.  “And, um, that responsibility really makes it feel like your needs come last.  And it just gets worse and worse as the years go on because…it’s hard.  Feeling emotionally neglected while tending to everyone else’s emotions.”

His gaze doesn’t once wander, completely devoted to you, to your story.  There’s not an ounce of judgment seeping out of him.  The familiar feeling you were so used to when you opened up every once in a blue moon where you felt deeply misunderstood and silently criticized was nowhere to be found.  All you could make out was pure empathy.  Compassion.  Curious brown eyes searched into your soul, not just scraping the surface but fully diving into the depths you so willingly lead him to.

“I-I don’t know what it’s like to lose someone like that–like you did Chrissy.”  You tread carefully, as if you were afraid to even mention her name.  “I mean–I lost my dad recently but…I didn’t witness anything and it was because of health issues.  We weren’t close and I actually…really hated him.”  You nod, staring meanly into the carpet.

“But, I, um, I know what it’s like to keep people out.  It’s not fun but it’s all we know isn’t it?”  You chance a laugh, earning you the tiniest upturn of his lips.  “And I mean, things are fine with my siblings and my mom, I guess.  But it still feels like I need to shut them out.  To protect their emotions.  And for some reason it just…makes sense to leave them out of it?  I dunno.”  Your voice trails off, confidence wavering.

“It does make sense.”  Eddie speaks up, voice scratchy.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”  He bites his lip, canine digging into his own flesh before releasing it to speak again.  “Feels like they wouldn’t get it.  Or they shouldn’t have to.  At least that’s how it feels with Wayne.  I know I can tell him anything but…why bother him with all the shit going on in my life when the man has already gone through hell because of me?”  

He takes in a deep breath before sighing and continuing.  “Fuckin’ had to raise a kid that wasn’t even his.”

There’s a certain disappointment to Eddie’s tone, a condescending scowl splayed across his face, only directed at himself as he twists his rings around his fingers.  

“Um.”  He pipes up again, seeming to snap himself out of a trance he’d lured himself into.  “‘Nough about me.”  A smile spreads over his pretty lips, not a genuine one.

“Eddie.”  Like silk, your tone is soft.

“Stop doing that.  You don’t have to do that.  Not around me.”

His chest deflates with an exhale, his pretty eyes still wet and wandering around the room.  There’s a lost child hidden within them, someone desperately trying to cling to the current adult reality but appearing to get lost in the process.  That look was too familiar and there was a sliver of relief in knowing you weren’t the only one who wore it but it yanked on the most tender parts of your heart to know Eddie was suffering just the same as you, if not more.

“T-tell me about Chrissy.”  You whisper.  “Only if you want to.”  

When Eddie’s roaming gaze finally lands on you, he never would have expected to be met with such sincerity.  Not a drop of malice in your voice, not one trace of aggression.  The kind that he was buried in when forced to confront a whole town who suspected he was responsible for her death.  Every mention of her name was always followed by an accusatory finger and seething anger, pitchforks practically aiming for him.  The worst part was he didn’t blame them.  Now, he didn’t mention the hellish underworld beneath Hawkins to you and had explained that the earthquake took Chrissy with a vengeful force right in front of him.  You had no reason to believe him, but you did.  You could’ve believed he was a murderer as everyone else.  You didn’t.  A piece of him wishes he could go into detail about the horrors that once lurked under Hawkins but he’d already breached his contract enough telling you that he was attacked by “creatures”, never going into full detail and telling you that they were gigantic bats.  And you didn’t seem to mind, never pushing for further explanation, only taking what he was willingly giving to you.

“I…”  He begins.  “I…she…she was…”

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to–”

“No.”  He whispers.  His fingertips swipe underneath his eyes, collecting a fair amount of running eyeliner.  “I-I uh, I want to.”  He nods to himself.

“Chrissy was uh, was one of the good ones.  Not a mean bone in her fuckin’ body.”  Eddie starts.  “Even if she was in the ‘popular crowd’ she never bullied anyone.  She thought I was mean and scary at first but…she never…she never showed it.  She’d wave to me every now and then.”  He laughs at the memory, only making your soul ache.

“Now that I think about it, maybe she only waved because she was scared of me.”  He chuckles in self deprecation.  “Can’t blame her.  Everyone’s scared of me.  Always have been.”

“I’m not.”  

Your sudden interruption has his brows knitting together, a softness overcoming his eyes.  He was a mess of a man and you continued to tend to him as if he was deserving of any of your attention.  He wasn’t, and he truly believed that.

“What?”  Eddie attempts to buy some time, stupidly racking his brain for something of some kind of intelligence.

“I’m not scared of you.”

“I–thought you were.  I mean, I wasn’t exactly…nice to you when you first moved in.  I yelled at you all the time–you don’t have to lie to me.”  

“I used to be, yeah.  I’m scared of practically everyone before I get to know them so it wasn’t just you.  But I’m not anymore.”  You explain honestly.  “Keep telling me about her.  If it’s not too much.  She sounded like she was a lovely person.”  

“Yeah.  Yeah, she was.  Had a crush on her for like forever.  Like since middle school when we kinda hung out at the talent show.”  Suddenly, he’s shaking his head again, as if to erase his previous thought.  “It’s stupid.  ‘M twenty four and I’m whining about–”

“Stop.”  You whisper, a bold hand squeezing at his knee.  The action sends his nerves into a frenzy.

“Nothing you say is stupid.”

No one has ever been so patient, so accommodating over his feelings and deepest tragedies showcasing themselves in his darkest hours.  It’s strange enough that he begins to wonder if someone is pulling a prank on him.  If he’s being played like a violin only to be laughed at when the curtain is pulled back.  He couldn’t help it, it was all he had come to learn after all.  Eddie knew you didn’t have it in you to commit such a heinous act against another individual but his mind had been poisoned time and time again, only sending him into a spiral of ‘what-ifs’ any time positivity lingered just out of his reach to grasp if he was brave enough.

“I barely even knew her.”  He seemingly gives up, hand lightly smacking down on his thigh.  Your touch remains on his knee, burning a hole into his bones as he stares at it.

“That’s okay.  You clearly care about her.” 

It makes him want to scream, the way you validate every sentence he utters out.  It’s not what he’s used to, his therapist never even gives him this amount of attention.  And it’s not fair that a soul like yours had been damned to hear his problems and witness everything that made him ugly.  Eddie was convinced that his soul was tainted and if he imagined what it looked like, it was an inky black stain on reality with hardly any signs of life.  If he only knew that in the two months you had known him, he was the most vibrant and adoring soul you had ever come across.

“I–we just–we really connected.  Right before she died.”  He manages to struggle through his mind demanding that he internalizes his thoughts.  “It felt–good.  She saw me…for me.  Instead of some–some motherfucker that poisoned the town’s precious ecosystem and she didn’t see me as…a freak.”

You offer a nod, an encouragement for him to keep going.  His heart that he kept locked up tight in his chest had been slowly oozing out of him, trickling into your living room.  

“She, um, she had a boyfriend.  Jason.”  He clears his throat, staring at the ceiling.  “He was an asshole.  Not to her, he treated her real nice.  But when Chrissy wasn’t around he was a douchebag.  Started a manhunt for me when shit went down.  He thought I—he–he thought I killed her and—and sacrificed her?”  Eddie almost questions, as if he couldn’t believe his own words.

“All because…I was the leader of a Dungeons and Dragons club.”  He admits bashfully.  You only let your thumb glide over the rip in his jeans, a comforting gesture.  “Everyone, uh, thought it was a cult.  Satanic panic and all that shit.”

“That’s fucked.”

“I agree.  Super fucked.  Especially because it dragged everyone down with me.  Dustin basically put his life on the line for me, I’ll never be able to make it up to him.”

As he expresses his gratitude, Eddie pulls his right arm out of the hoodie sleeve, pulling the material up to display his bicep to you.  The one with the very badly doodled character, somewhat resembling a gnome.  

“But…”  He drags out, slapping the ink proudly.  “This did really excite him at least.”

You examine the drawing, taking his bicep in your hand without a second though as you try to determine exactly what you were looking at.  You didn’t want to offend him but you genuinely couldn’t make out the picture.  It was messy and scribbly and could have been created by a five year old.  “Eddie, I’m sorry but–what is it?”  

“Dustin drew it.  It’s his D&D character.”  

“Oh!”  You smile brightly.

“You don’t have to pretend it's good, he’s a shit artist.”

“Not shit.  Just…inexperienced…maybe?”  You joke, wincing at your own words.

“Very.”  Eddie confirms.  “Dustin’s more of a brains kinda guy.  Gareth and I took care of all the artwork, y’know like logos for the club and our band–”

“You had a band?”  A grin sneaks past your lips.

“I–uh–yeah.”  He admits with defeat, his shoulders slumping.

It’s only then that you realized you still had been tracing your fingers over the inked drawing, not one protest stopping you from doing so.  In fact, Eddie only glanced down briefly and smiled, his cheeks tinting pink.  It wasn’t clear whether it was because of your touch or because of embarrassment.

“Hang on, when did this all end up being about me?”  He glares at you with mock anger.

“No, no, no.  Don’t turn this around.  What was your band’s name?”

“Jesus Christ.”  He whispers, distress evident in his tone though his face only conveys amusement.

Eddie didn’t have to entertain the playful conversation that had suddenly engulfed the two of you.  He didn’t have to banter back or let you touch his arm.  He didn’t have to talk about Chrissy even though his mind was plaguing him and he was the one who brought her up.  Nothing was required of him and you made sure he was aware of that.

But oh, how you reveled in his endearing blanket of an aura as he allowed you to peek behind the oh so heavy curtain that hid his deepest and most tragic thoughts.

–

Marvin’s Grocery had become more and more familiar with your frequent trips over the weeks.  You were determined to perfect an apple pie recipe that would make anyone melt at the taste.  Donnie had extended an invite to her famous Thanksgiving dinner and though it was weeks away, preparations were still under way, your oven enduring more use than it ever had in its short lifetime.  

Guilt ate away at you as you placed the freshly baked pie on the counter to cool.  You didn’t want to be an intruder but Donnie was so insistent when gracing you with the plans back at the supermarket.  It would be your first Thanksgiving away from home and you were set on spending it alone, preparing to create a one person feast and pig out all by your lonesome.  Now, you were going to be faced with at least 30 other guests according to Donnie.  That was intimidating enough and when you tried to reject her invitation to save yourself some embarrassment, she only interrupted you, stating that everyone is going to love you and that even your short time in the spotlight at the Halloween bash left a great impression.  That everyone wanted to get to know you.

Then she bestowed the responsibility of one dessert upon you.  Everyone was required to bring at least one dish, store bought or homemade…it didn’t matter as long as you contributed.  You had weeks to perfect it and though you didn’t need to go through the trouble, the people pleaser in you raged on.

Cinnamon and nutmeg graced your nose, a comforting scent that had you salivating and yearning for a piece of warm, gooey apple pie.  The kitchen was a mess, bowls scattered along the counter top and a bag of flour leaking onto the floor.  You were usually consistent in keeping clean as you worked but the daunting task of perfecting your pie held your complete and undivided attention.  

Buttery, flaky crust called your name as you finished folding your laundry.  The TV blared some popular sitcom that had to have been new as you didn’t recognize it.  Regardless, the pie had interested you more.

It came out beautifully, nearly commercial ready with the criss cross crust and everything.  This was your best outcome yet and you only hope it tasted just as delicious as it looked.  You’d finally perfected the design and it didn’t completely deflate on itself this time, a win in your book.

Regretfully, you cut into the perfect dessert, forming the perfect triangle and plating it as delicately as possible.  This was your baby as far as you were concerned and the passion that had gone into it was going to be recognized, even if only by you.  A quick dollop of whipped cream is placed on top, the only thing missing was ice cream although you weren’t the biggest fan of pairing the two treats, satisfied with just the baked slice of heaven.

It was too flawless, the slice had been perfectly cut and presented like a five star restaurant had prepared it.  Such perfection could not be recreated and you simply needed at least one witness to applaud your work or at the very least acknowledge your newly discovered baking skills.  

–

Two knocks and no movement.  Yet…

The breeze nips at your cheeks, leaving you to regret not throwing a sweater on even if only for a few seconds.  Your hand shields the fresh slice of pie, a desperate attempt to conceal its warmth.  Your masterpiece would not be spoiled at the hands of the inevitably changing weather.  

Another two knocks.  A bit more urgent this time.

You can hear shuffling just beyond the door, an eager shiver running down your spine.  Irritation begins to build within you at the stinging sensation at the tip of your ears, the temperature being especially unforgiving.

Two more knocks.

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’.”  

You hear the grumble and can’t help but feel your spirits lift.

“Wha–Bambi?”  Eddie reveals you, a shivering mess on the porch with your hair in disarray and a plate of pie in your trembling hands.

Without hesitation, he steps to the side and waves you in.  There’s a certain coziness to him, his hair extra frizzy as if he had been laying on it and his eyes a tad puffy.  Almost like a large teddy bear.  His black sweatshirt swallows his torso although he’s wearing shorts, a psychotic move in this kind of weather.  

“Try this.”  You demand, holding the plate out in front of him.

His eyes only stare widely at the treat, grogginess obvious in the way he rubs his eyes and yawns.  Another postcard moment.

“What is it?”  He asks gravelly.  It just about melts you into a puddle on his floor.

“Apple pie!”  

Your enthusiasm takes him back, a surprised expression pulling at his features as he hesitantly takes it.  It crosses his mind that you mentioned taking on baking recently, a slow shift at The Bourbon pulling you both into mindless talk as you cleaned.  He gathers that you were at the peak of your sugar rush, no doubt stealing licks of batter and tastes of sugar as you baked.   If this was the result of you baking all day, he needed a minute to wake up.

“Okay, okay.”  He sighs, brushing past you to set the plate on his kitchen counter, snatching a fork from one of the drawers.

“Why do you need me of all people to taste test?”  He asks a bit unkindly.  He doesn’t mean it but you did wake him from a deep slumber, one of the best naps he had in a while.  Probably the only nap he’d taken in a while as he recalls.

You don’t seem to recognize his irritation, thankfully too caught up in the bubbling excitement around your homemade treat.  “Cause it’s for Thanksgiving and I really want it to be good.”  You explain, bouncing on the balls of your feet impatiently.

An eye roll has you blushing–it shouldn’t–but it does.  All of Eddie’s little quirks whether they were forming out of grumpiness or not, only made him all the more endearing.  The fork finally meets his mouth, heaven about to bless his taste buds–or at least you hope.  

As he chews, he makes it a point to keep a straight face, watching you squirm with anticipation being far too fun for him.  

“How is it?”  

Eddie shrugs.  Okay, maybe not all of his quirks were endearing.

“Eddie!”  You wail, hands gripping the edge of the counter.

“Alright, alright.”  He mumbles, taking a step back as he swallows.  The crust crumbles just right on his tongue, warm gooey apple goodness filling his taste buds and sending him right back to his childhood.  The happy parts.  “Really fuckin’ good.  You have any more?”  He asks, going in for another bite, a smug grin displaying across your face.

“No, you were being rude.”

“Wh–c’mon.”  He just about whines as you steal the plate from his reach, tucking it behind your back.

“Say sorry.”

“I’m not sorry, now give it back.”  An adorable frown pulls at his mouth.

“Eddie.”

“Bambi.”

Big brown eyes stare into yours, stubborn intent evident behind them.  It instantly fades when you give him your best pout, your eyes shining with a silent plea.  With a deep sigh and another eye roll, he gives in.  It was like stealing candy from a baby except even easier as he fumbled his stoic expression and contorted his face into something more apologetic.

“‘M sorry.”  He mumbles.

“You’re what?”  You smile, acting oblivious.  

“I’m sorry!”  Eddie throws his hands up in surrender.  “Happy?”  

“I guess.”  You sigh, placing the beloved dessert back on the counter for him to devour.

“Why you baking so much?”  

His mouth is crammed with pie after he asks, crumbs resting at the corners of his mouth and whipped cream decorating his upper lip.  You determine that he’s a messy eater, sloppily shoveling pie into his mouth until it physically can’t hold anymore.

“Thanksgiving.  I’m in charge of a dessert.  What are you bringing?”

“Nuffin’.”  He mumbles through a mouthful.

“Why not?”  You practically whine.

With a rough swallow, Eddie licks his lips, leaving no trace of the coarse sugar that was previously sprinkled on the crust.  When you glance down, the plate is empty, the pie had vanished into Eddie’s stomach.

“I’m not going.”  He says simply.

Not going?  If he couldn’t go back to Indiana for Thanksgiving, where was he going to go?

“I don’t uh, I don’t do holidays.”  He elaborates.

“Don’t do holidays.”  You scoff.  “You did Halloween just fine.”  

It should gross you out when he retrieves a carton of milk from the fridge and starts chugging it straight from the container.  It doesn’t.  Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he sets the milk on the counter, eyes meeting yours as his elbows come to rest on the counter, his head propped up in his hands.

“Then that’s the only holiday I do.” 

“You have to go.”  You whine like a child, stomping your foot.

“I don’t have to do anything.”  There’s a certain kind of attitude in his tone, a playful attitude that wasn’t actually meant to offend you, only to spur you on.

“You have to go or else you can’t have any more pie!”  You complain.  “Please Eddie!  You’re like one of the only people I’ll know, you can’t not go.”

Your worried eyes and pouty lips are convincing enough though he might as well have a little fun.  Get under your skin.

“Now you’re being mean.”  He juts out his lip.

The look on your face is priceless, eyes widening and mouth hung open in shock.  “Am not!  You’re going to Thanksgiving because if you don’t then I’m gonna feel guilty the whole time I’m trying to pig out.”

“Guilty?”  An amused grin plasters itself to his face, his figure returning to tower over you as he ceases leaning over the counter.

“Yeah, you can’t spend Thanksgiving alone.”  

He swears there are tears in your eyes, making it unexplainably hard for him to tell you no.  Then again, he always found it hard to tell you no.  Just last week you and Jett begged to decorate the bar with pumpkins and other Fall objects.  The only reason he said yes was because you looked up at him with those perfectly pleading puppy dog eyes, your hands behind your back as you swayed back and forth.  And because you offered to use the pumpkins from your porch, the bar’s dwindling budget sure to be untouched.

“Tell you what…”  Eddie begins his proposition, you listening eagerly as you lean over the counter with your head propped in your hands as he had done seconds ago.  “If you make me my own personal pie—“

“Done.”  You chirp.

“I will consider it.”  He finishes, glaring at you.

“How about…I give you the rest of the pie I have sitting at home right now and you promise you’ll go?”  You light up at your own idea.

“I will consider it.”  He repeats.

“No deal.” 

You cross your arms stubbornly, eyes closing as you tilt your head up in a snobbish manner.  A groan escapes him, you peeking an eye open only to see his nose scrunched in defeat, his tongue licking the back of his teeth and clicking.

He lost the battle.

“Fine.”  He sighs, exhaling through his nostrils in annoyance.  

You don’t miss the tiny smile tugging on his lips as he collects the remaining whipped cream from the plate and licks it from his fingers.  His front was faltering, the big scary dog ready and willing to fall at your feet if you just said the word. 

~end~

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tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiesxangel @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel @mmunson86 @witchwolflea @kurdtbean @micheledawn1975 @tlclick73 @erinekc @hazydespair @whenshelanded @corrodedcoffincumslut @ms1oftheboys @lma1986 @uglypastels @aysheashea

[thechaoticdruid]

|This Bites| (8)

Astarion x Chubby! F!MC

Plot: Astarion and Winnie prepare to meet with someone willing to help with Astarion's dietary needs. Hijinks ensue.

Content/Warnings: Sexual humor, kissing.

Chapter 7: BACK

Chapter 8: STOP

Chapter 9:WHAT?

“Mmmm…” Astarion hummed softly as he pressed his lips against Winnie’s. The young woman smiled into the kiss. This is maybe like the third time he's been peppering her lips with smooches today. She giggled, gazing up at him with eyes full of adoration. 

“You finished trying to eat my face?” Winnie teased with a smile.

“Never! This is one feast I intend to savor for as long as possible.” The vampiric elf giggled before going in for another kiss. Winnie returned it before wincing and rubbing her throat. 

“Darling, are you alright?” Astarion asked with concern. 

“Ah…Yeah….It just hurts still…” Winnie croaked out. Astarion leaned in to place a peck on her forehead.  

“I'll go and see about finding you something to eat, my love. You just relax.” Astarion caressed her forehead before getting up and leaving the room. Brian was going to be working late today so they had plenty of time without having to worry about his bullshit. Astarion walked into the kitchen where Vanessa was pouring some dog kibble into Ollie's bowl. 

“I believe you said you were going to help me learn how to cook.” The vampire huffed out.

“Oh yes! Just give me a moment.” Vanessa exclaimed, putting away the dog food and running to wash her hands. Astarion crossed his arms.

“You too! Wash!” The twelve year old ordered. Astarion rolled his eyes before washing his clawed hands. Nessa took out a small purple apron with a little dragon on it before putting it on and grabbing a silk, frilly pink apron. “Here put this on!”  She said as she put it in his hands. The vampire put on the apron sighing a bit in impatience.  

“We can start with something easy like a cup of noodles! Maybe with a little bit of green onions?” Nessa took a styrofoam cup from the cabinet before handing it to Astarion. “Just make sure to fill up this cup with water and then…” Nessa walked over and towards the microwave, “put it in here and set the timer for three minutes.” She explained before walking over to the fridge and started getting out green onions. Nessa carefully began to cut up the green stalks on a cutting board while the microwave beeped from the pressing of random buttons.

Back in Winnie’s room, she laid there in boredom as her phone suddenly buzzed. Her brown eyes looked over the touch screen as she tapped on the message. It was from Becca.

Becca: How's your throat?

Winnie: PAIN. I can barely move without feeling it.

Becca: Fuck. That sucks :(

Becca: Still trying 2 process this whole vampire from a video game is suddenly real shit  But I'm here for u

Winnie: Thanks. I really need to find that modder now tho.

Becca: U said he was in Varamont? That's quite a drive. Hey my dad's gonna give me his old van once he gets a new car I can take u and Star there in it

Winnie: You sure about this Becca? We might run into danger again. Especially now since there's monsters showing up.

Becca: That's why u need me! My dad taught me how 2 shoot a gun when I was 7 I'll have ur back if stuff gets hairy

Winnie: Okay I'll think about it. I'm just so nervous about everything these days. Especially since I have to look after a literal vampire.

Becca: Oh btw I think I might have a way 2 help u with that I know a guy who can get u blood without hurting anyone

Winnie: That sounds…..Shady…

Becca: Don't worry he's a good guy

Becca: A little weird but good :) 

Winnie let out a sigh as she looked at Becca’s texts. She really needed to try to relax more. The smell of something burning suddenly hit her senses. 

“Is something on fire!?” She shouted, head turning towards her door which was cracked.

“No! It's okay! Astarion just forgot to add water to the noodles!” Vanessa called from down the hall.

“You said nothing about water!” Astarion complained, his whiny voice echoing through the house. Winnie rolled her eyes before returning her attention to her phone in an attempt to relax. 

She pulled up Tumblr and began to scroll through her timeline.  There were a couple new BG3 fanfictions posted by Vixstarria, TragedyBunny, and MJ-Bites. Winnie bit down on her lip nervously as she began to realize just how strange this probably would seem to Astarion. 

The fact that there is an entire community of people obsessing over him might freak him out a little. Especially with some of their more erotic works. Not that she had anything against the fanfiction creators, they unfortunately had no idea that Astarion was actually real. And many of them were exceptionally talented, but knowing about this could be a bit much to take. Winnie continued to scroll through her timeline, liking some cute art here and there before stumbling upon an interesting post by just-a-refridgerator.

 It appeared to be a comparison of all of the Baldur's Gate 3 men's butt sizes, which confirmed that they all indeed have the same size ass.

Why is this a debate!? They literally all have the same body type!

Winnie sighed, looking through the comments when suddenly the door opened up, revealing Astarion holding a steaming cup of noodles.

“Darling! I'm back.I made you something.~” He purred as Winnie squeaked and quickly turned her phone over.  The silver haired vampire raised an eyebrow as he looked her over in confusion.

“You seem rather startled. What ever has you so worked up, dear?” 

“Oh nothing, just surprised is all…heheh…” Winnie rubbed the back of her neck nervously as she kept her hand clamped over her phone. “So uh..You got me noodles? Thank you!” Winnie said before quickly taking the cup from his hands and shoving some in her mouth as she hid her phone under her leg. Astarion looked at her with a slightly suspicious glance before sitting behind her and nuzzling his face into her shoulder. 

“How is it, my love?” Astarion spoke softly, his breath tickling her ear. Winnie shivered before feeling his arms wrap around her waist. The noodles were salty, savory and overall not bad.

“It's good.” Winnie praised before glancing back at him with a smile.

“I'm so glad you think so.” Astarion purred, his lips inches away from Winnie’s ears. 

“Astarion,what are you-” with a slight of hand Astarion snatched Winnie’s phone out from under her leg.

“Well, what do we have here?~” The pale elf had a wide shit eating grin spreading across his face.

“Astarion!” Winnie set the cup of noodles down on her nightstand before attempting to wrestle her phone back from him. “You asshole! Give me back my phone!” 

“Easy darling, your neck is still bruised. We wouldn't want you to hurt yourself now would we? Astarion cooed out, his voice dripping with condescension. He gently pushed her down on her back and straddled her, pinning her under his body. “Hmm ... .Now what ever could you be hiding from me?” The elven vampire glanced at the screen as the young woman squirmed under him.

“This is an invasion of my privacy ya know!” Winnie hissed, her face turning redder by the second. 

“Ah…This is….Gale…Wyll and…. myself? And someone is comparing our posteriors…..” Astarion looked back at Winnie with a puzzled look. The young woman bit down on her lip, immediately expecting some kind of declaration of disgust. “What do you mean we all have the same arse!? This can't possibly be true! My physique is far more impressive than those two imbeciles combined!”Astarion turned and got off of Winnie.

The brunette was a bit bewildered by his reaction.

“Well…from the game it looks that way…”

“Oh so you've been looking at our companions' unclothed bodies then?” 

“It’s not like that! And I didn't even know you were real, sentient people!” Winnie crossed her arms, sitting up. 

“Regardless, you now have a far better way of seeing for yourself.” Before the human female could even say another word the vampire turned around and shoved his backside near her face. 

“S-Stop it.” Winnie sputtered out, her face burning brightly.

“Winnie please! I need you to tell me your thoughts.” 

“You're literally asking me to give you feedback on your butt?” 

“Of course. Your opinion is the only one that truly matters.” Astarion exclaimed, running a hand over the curve of his ass. 

“Oh for God's sake Astarion.” Winnie pinched the bride of her nose before responding with a bashful cough, “i-it's nice….…”

“Nice!? Is that all you have to say!?” Astarion huffed, his face turning into an upset pout. 

“It's very…luscious ... .and…round…I'm really not good at this Star….” Winnie said, covering her face in embarrassment. “Now get your ass out of my face!” 

“I'm not moving until I receive an adequate compliment.” 

“Oh my fucking God…”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

About a week passed before Winnie’s neck had fully healed. Becca was coming by today to take Winnie to meet with her friend she promised could help her out with Astarion’s particular dietary needs. Winnie still wasn't completely comfortable with the idea of trusting some random dude to get them blood donations, but she really didn't want a repeat of the incident at the carnival. Not to mention Astarion’s leftovers were being noticed by her neighbors. 

Winnie pulled on some black tights before pulling a purple shirt over her head as she waited for Becca to arrive. She grabbed a black and red hoodie and put it on after her shirt.

“Sweetheart? What do you think looks better, the button up or the tank?” Astarion asked as he stepped out of the bathroom wearing black jeans as he held a white button up shirt in one hand and a black tank top in the other. 

“You're going to be in bat form since the sun is still out, I doubt it'll matter.” Winnie hummed before sitting on her bed and pulling on her shoes as Maddie crawled out from under the bed and stretched.

“I need to look fashionable in any form.” The vampire boasted before glancing down at the small black feline who appeared to be staring at him, intently. “What do you think, dear?” 

Maddie’s large blue eyes scanned the two objects he held before turning her head towards the button up and letting out a long high meow. 

“Ah you're absolutely right darling!” Astarion said before quickly dressing himself in the white button up. Winnie shook her head with a smile. 

“Alright beautiful, just behave yourself today. We're going to be meeting someone who might be able to help me get you fed regularly.” Winnie hummed before checking her phone again for any updates from Becca.

“Oh I will. But I expect to be rewarded for my behavior.” Astarion purred before sitting down on Winnie’s lap and leaning closely.

“And just what kind of reward were you thinking of?” Winnie raised an eyebrow.

“Your lips.” Astarion nipped her bottom lip playfully before kissing her hungrily, wrapping his arms around her neck and moaning against her mouth. Winnie returned his kiss as she used one hand to play with his ivory curls, the two of them caught up in the moment. Suddenly there was knocking on the front door followed by Ollie barking. Astarion got up before pulling Winnie to her feet and planting a kiss on her hand. 

Winnie giggled before she walked out to open the front door to see her fiery haired friend. 

“Hey Becca-” The brunette began as Becca quickly closed the door behind her. 

“Where is the vampire?” She asked. 

“I do have a name you know.” Astarion scoffed as he stepped out from behind Winnie.

“Oh-shit! Sorry I didn't mean anything by it!” Becca put her hands up. “I'm just really excited! I've never met a vampire before! Let alone one from a video game. Oh hey where are the others from the game?” Becca asked.

“I….I don't really know honestly…They disappeared before Winnie brought me here.” 

“The game ended up being a bit unstable after I pulled Astarion out. I'm not sure if we could go and look for them now. But with Raphael showing up I suppose anything might be possible. So uh…This friend of yours?” Winnie changed the subject.

“Oh right. Jimmy. He's a bit eccentric but his brother and mother work at the hospital in town, so he's able to get his hands on a blood bag or two on occasion. We should probably not keep him waiting.”

“Well, let's not waste any more time then?” Astarion chimed in before suddenly he was engulfed in red and shrank down into his bat form. Winnie him up and allowed him to climb into her hoodie.

“Oh my god! He's so cute!” Becca cooed, her eyes round and full of adoration as she looked at the small bat who frowned slightly.

 Astarion let out a squeak of protest as he nuzzled up against Winnie's neck.  The brunette pulled the hood over her head before the two females walked out of the hour and got into Becca's car. 

Winnie sat in the passenger seat and looked out the window as Astarion snuggled against her. She carefully reached into her hoodie to gently pet Astarion’s head with her finger, receiving a few curious little squeaks in reply.

It took them about an hour to arrive at Becca's friend’s house. He apparently lived on the other side of town. Winnie’s brown eyes perked up as she noticed fake headstones sitting in his yard, along with a bush trimmed into the shape of a skull. 

“Here we are!” Becca announced as they exited the truck. Winnie scanned the yard.

“Hmm…Nice place. Love the Halloween vibes.” She exclaimed as the two of them walked up the sidewalk and towards the front door. Becca knocked on the door before suddenly a brown eyeball peeked through the peephole. The door opened revealing a short man with messy blonde hair, glasses, pasty white skin and painted dark circles under his eyes. He was wearing a band T-shirt and a cape? 

“Becca, who's the fresh meat?” He asked, revealing what appeared to be fake fangs in his mouth. 

“Jimmy….This is Winnie.” Becca replied.

“Oh…..Hey….” Winnie said awkwardly rubbing the back of her neck. 

Ah……This explains a lot….

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

I'M NOT DEAD GUYS! :3 Just been having a lot of issues with writers block and life and all that great stuff! Anyway hope you're all still enjoying the story!

Thanks to @vixstarria , @tragedybunny , @mj-bites and @just-a-refrigerator for letting me give ya a little cameo in the fic!

~Druid

Taglist: @seradyn , @plimsim , @astarioffsimpmain , @marcynomercy , @iamsexytrash , @gaymistakeboi , @divineknightmare , @tinyfreakgirl , @misscrissfemmefatal, @gianchan-de @jaksfanficsaver , @the-disaster-in-waiting , @hp-art-studio , @im-just-a-simp-le-whore , @dajeong , @iamnotokei , @the-pale-elfs-love , @geminipridekitty , @just-a-refrigerator , @vixstarria , @ellaprime7

[girlreblogger]

movie nights! chapter 2

conniexblackfemreader. it’s fall..

orihime (girl in the banner) photo credit goes to @/Xoxo_io on pinterest!

— fluff, chapter 2/5, 3rd pov, more connie-reader interaction soon use of y/n, not proof read, longer, really just getting to know the characters more, enjoy! - chapter 1 -

y/n and eren walked back into the living to see armin and mikasa laughing at something armin found in his camera roll. “you guys ready?” Y/n asked with her hands heavy with a bowl of popcorn and candy, skipping over to sit back in her seat between mika and armin. she handed mikasa some twizzlers while armin placed the bowl in his own lap. Mikasa sat on the long couch, furtherest away from the tv. That made her closer to connie who sat on the shorter couch against the wall across from the tv. Her eyes flickered from the bunches of horror film’s advertising themselves on the television and then to connie. He was opening up a tiny bag of halloween themed m&ms that eren brought from the kitchen. “don’t pick a scary movie.” Mikasa blurted while looking him in the eye intensely. He lifted his eyes from the candy and then to his friend.

“Uhh..” Connie internally chuckled at the scared look on her face. “I won’t.” He assured with a small snicker. He wasn’t planning on doing it anyway since he knew she hated them. All her friends heard the story of her at her uncle levi’s house on one halloween. It ended with her screaming and running through the house because he thought the best way to bond with his neice was through scary movies he didn’t find the least bit frightening. But for an eight year old? large titans coming out of walls, eating and trampling people, skinless faces seemingly mutilated on the screen was the ultimate nightmare inducer.

Eren handed Connie some more candy and laid on his shoulder with a huff. “You want some?” Eren asked while pointing a box of mike and ikes towards his friend. “You know ion eat them” Connie laughed while shooing eren off who just shrugged. “i want some” Armin spoke, he quickly got up and snatched the box from eren. “now how you gonna take my stuff like that.” Eren watched armin pour the candies in his mouth listening to the sound of the candies clinking together. “Alright bro that’s enough!” Eren yelled, trying to stop his candies from being eaten.

Y/n looked over at armin from talking to mikasa and put her hand out expectantly. “And y/n I didn’t say you could get any.” Armin quickly shook some in y/n’s hands before eren stood up and snatched the box from him. “..my shit back.” Eren mumbled while connie cackled and mikasa shook her head while calling his name aggressively. Mikasa was the mom of those two.

“Damn you scratched my hand with the box.” Armin mumbled with attitude and a sharp glare before looking at the red part of his hand. Y/n put the few candies she had into her mouth quickly and grabbed armin’s hand. She scrunched her eyebrows slowly and examined the long red cut along the palm of his hand that went up to the middle of his index finger.

“aww.” The jagged edge of the box must have dragged across his hand when eren snatched it from him. Y/n could see little droplets of blood bubbling up in the slightest and the sight alone made her queasy.

Armin looked away from eren and then to y/n. He started to pull back his hand since he didn’t think it was a big deal until y/n stood up with his hand still in hers. “Let me get you a bandaid and clean it real quick. we’ll be back soon.” Y/n pulled armin’s long lanky arm as he lifted himself up from the sofa and followed behind, slowly growing a smile on his face without looking back at his friends. Eren only shook his head and laughed, as did mikasa since they knew he had a small crush on y/n.

A few months ago at one of their annual movie nights, a full hour and a half of something that was unintentional cuddling with her had him thinking of potential endings for more than just the unsolved documentary they’d been watching.

Connie watched armin and y/n leave around the corner to go to the nearest bathroom. “So y’all wasn’t gonna tell me y’all were friends with her?! ” Connie blurted with his hands in his lap, whispering to mikasa or eren with wide eyes. “she’s too hot.” He fake fanned himself dramatically, thinking about the way she dragged armin to the back of the apartment.

‘man, what i’d give for that to be me’

Mikasa only smiled but stayed quiet while Eren rolled his eyes. “con bro you were with your dad in the dr for 2 months then went to your mom’s place in south carolina for 2 more… be real.” Connie pursed his lips to the side and watched eren nonchalantly pop a watermelon candy in his mouth, which wasn’t even what he scratched armin’s hand up for.

Connie was a free spirit, where ever the wind blew he was there. Of course which is one of the reason he never crossed paths y/n, surprisingly. The last Xmas break Eren, Mikasa, and armin had they all were supposed to go on a road trip. Unbeknownst to them, he’d be on the country side of france with their other friend jean.

“You coulda facetimed me, sent a picture or somethin.“ Connie smacked his lips and looked to the side while he ate some of the popcorn eren gave him. His mind wandered excitedly at the thought of getting to know more about y/n. Just like he loved new places, he loved meeting new people. “Eren you need to be more careful. you can be so damn aggressive.” Y/n’s voiced yelled as she walked back into the living room with a red faced armin behind her.

The other three friends eyed the pink blush on armin’s face before looking at Y/n who was sitting down now, getting comfortable again with her feet tucked under her. “It was self defense.” Eren said calmly with his nose tooted up. “Yeah right the cut was long and he said it still hurts.” Y/n rebuttaled, annoyed she had to witness one of eren and armin’s sibling squabbles in the first place.

Connie couldn’t help but let his eyes roam her face for the hundredth time that night. He thought it was endearing how she cared so much about her friend. How her forehead wrinkled and she moved one of her long braids from her high ponytail out of her face when she watched armin walk to sit down. “..cut a little deep too, but i’m alright.” Armin sighed while looking at the big bandaid on his hand. Connie’s ears twitched, eyes holding back an eye roll before moving to armin with an annoyed expression.

‘oh please.’

How could a cardboard box cut him that damn bad. Connie rose a brow, trying not to smile at armin being annoying. He sunk deeper in his seat and ate some of the popcorn out of the small bowl eren brought from the kitchen too.

“It’s okay min it’ll heal fast.” Y/n spoke, honestly when y/n first briefly met armin nothing about him made her think of him as ‘cute’ or ‘innocent’ like some would assume. She knew better than that, she simply just saw him as more reserved compared to his friends. Even still she never thought of him that way. Now, he was her friend, so she treated and cared for him like she did all her friends. Her friends would always have a soft spot in her heart.

‘i wanna be her friend’

It didn’t help that getting to know min more exposed his benign nature— which wavered depending on who he was speaking to. “Come here.” She sighed while gently letting him lay his head on her chest.

“all right now..”

“are you serious?”

Connie and eren both spoke at the same time. “damn, that must hurt min.” Mikasa said sympathetically once she actually got a good look at his hand while rubbing his hair a little. (she hadn’t been paying much mind) “It does mika.” Armin’s deep voice spoke softly, pouting his lips playfully which made y/n chuckle.

For some reason mikasa treated armin the same as y/n. Maybe, it was because she stood up for him so much in elementary school. This odd “charm” of his was undeniable amongst eren and connie who briefly reminisced at all the times girls they even came in contact with seemingly treated him the same. they all had a soft spot for him for whatever reason.

Connie and eren looked at each other in disbelief.

“bruh i could gag.”

Connie grumbled while looking at armin who was happy with the warm place he found on top of y/n’s chest, laying on her comfortably and glaring at the two men with a smug look. Eren laughed at Connie’s remark and threw a piece of popcorn at armin “mmcht.” Armin smacked his teeth, that nice demeanor was never really there for eren and connie.

Somehow connie found his eyes going back to y/n’s. at this point in was inevitable to stop him from staring. he had been trying to make some kind of eye contact the whole night. When he first arrived at her and mikasa’s place she only gave him a curt smile and greeting before eren and armin bombarded him with questions since it had been a while since they saw him.

“Thanks again y/n for the bandaid.” Armin said looking up at her and flashing a kind smile. “It’s finee.” She gave him a harmless wink and rubbed his back as he took a small sniff of her skin. He closed his eyes at her sweet perfume, opening them to smile at the guys in front of him. As if to say ‘who cares what you think i’m cuddling with my crush right now’. Yet for someone as smart as y/n her only flaw was not knowing when someone liked her.

Even when she kept catching connie eyeing her in the corner of her eye the whole time he’d been there. And of course someone blushing profusely while you dabbed peroxide on a cut instead of thinking about the pain didn’t conjure up any thoughts of someone else’s unrequited feelings either.

“Connie did you find a movie yet.” Y/n knocked Connie out of his trance he’d been in for a few seconds.

“Uh.. no sorry lemme find one.” He grabbed the remote and cleared his throat, ignoring the nudge in his arm from eren.

“oh I’m okay.”

Connie heared armin whisper to y/n while he clicked ‘doraline’ for everyone to watch. He stuffed the remote on the side of him and the cushions and put his arm up on the couch, trying to relax before the movie started. He crumbled the now empty bag of m&ms and slowly looked to his side. He could see armin now sitting up with his arm over y/n, watching them both stop their whispers to look at the screen.

end of chapter 2.

please like, comment, and REBLOG! .. please :) i don’t even usually do banners and stuff but i’m really excited abt this fic so please comment, reblog with tags, or give some (no one’s saying a novel) feedback if you enjoyed cause it helps with motivation. thank you!

[enchantedchocolatebars]

Kid Philip Week 2024 - Day 1 (Adventure!)

Super Cute Fighters!

Summary: Chibi Kid Philip, Chibi Cheek, and Chibi Pip go on a three-level pixelated adventure.

Story inspired by this commission art.

(IT'S DAY 1 OF KID PHILIP WEEK, Y'ALL! WHOOOOOOO!!! HYPE, HYPE, HYPE!)

Enjoy!

A black screen turns on after a 'ping' sound from a gaming console, and a start screen for a video game appears.

The screen's background is bubble gum pink and features white polka dots at the top and bottom, as well as scattered white and blue sparkles and a pixel pattern that matches the colors.

The game's title, 'Super Cute Fighters!', is elevated by a giant heart, star, skull, and rainbow.

Chibi Philip, Chibi Cheek, and Chibi Pip, the protagonist characters of the game, stand in the center happily, wielding their blood-stained weapons in the air.

The words 'Press A To Start' appear below the screen as the off-screen player hits the 'A' button, and the entire screen fades to black.

...

The screen transitions to the first level, which takes place in a forest where Philip, Cheek, and Pip are leisurely walking down a path with their weapons while collecting stars, which represent points.

Three hearts for lives are displayed at the top corner of the screen for each of them, along with full health bars.

During their stroll, the three stopped when they saw a skeleton enemy with a sword and shield blocking their path.

Cursors appear above Philip, Cheek, and Pip's heads, and the player selects Philip as he moves toward the skeleton.

Raising his wooden sword, Philip brings it down and strikes the skeleton, causing the screen to fade to black as the two are teleported to a minigame.

...

The minigame is titled 'Horsey Ring Toss', and the rules are pretty simple: toss the rings around the peg before time runs out.

The player with the most rings around their peg wins.

After a countdown of 3, 2, 1, this song starts playing, and the minigame commences.

Philip and the skeleton begin throwing their rings into their pegs, with both of them appearing committed to winning.

As soon as the timer reaches 0, a whistle is blown, and the two stop, which signifies the end of the game.

The screen displays the words 'Time's Up!'.

...

When the game goes to the results screen, Philip and the skeleton's rings around their pegs are tallied.

Philip is revealed to have more rings around his peg as the skeleton slumps in sadness at his loss, and Philip begins to cheer for himself.

The screen displays the words 'Philip Wins!'.

After the screen goes black, the two are back in the forest.

...

Suddenly, the skeleton blocking the protagonists' path begins to bloat and soon explodes, spewing out hearts, stars, rainbows, and blood.

After being rewarded with the stars from the skeleton, Philip, Cheek, and Pip celebrate with a victory dance and finish with a pose.

As they continue on their adventure, they move on to the next level.

...

The second level is a journey through a cave tunnel as the chibis continue to gather stars as they traverse the dreary trail.

Without warning, Philip, Cheek, and Pip encounter a group of skeleton foes with swords and shields standing in their way.

Cursors then appear above the trios' heads, and the player selects Cheek, who walks forward toward the set of skeletons.

Swinging his cute flail, the hamster strikes the entire group, and he, along with the skeletons, are teleported to a minigame.

...

This minigame is titled 'Cake Bakers', and the rules are to use the ingredients on the kitchen counter to bake the perfect cake.

The player who bakes the best-looking cake wins.

After a countdown of 3, 2, 1, this song starts playing, and the minigame begins.

The player assists Cheek in adding the correct ingredients for his cake to his bowl, while the skeletons place unappetizing ingredients in theirs.

After pouring their batter mixture into cake pans, Cheek and the skeletons' pans are promptly placed in the oven and proceed to bake.

The end of the game occurs when the timer reaches 0 and a whistle is blown.

The words 'Time's Up!' are displayed on the screen.

...

When the game goes to the results screen, Cheek and the skeletons are standing beside their cakes, which are covered with white cloths.

When the cloths are removed, Cheek is revealed to have a delicious strawberry shortcake, while the skeletons have a poisonous cake that quickly crumbles.

The skeletons' shoulders drop at the sight of their disaster of a cake, while Cheek cheers for himself.

The words 'Cheek Wins!' are displayed on the screen.

Once the screen goes black, Cheek and the skeletons are returned to the cave.

...

The skeleton foes experience a bloating sensation before exploding, with hearts, stars, rainbows, and blood spewing out of their bodies.

After obtaining the stars from the skeletons, Philip, Cheek, and Pip celebrate with a dance of triumph and finish with a pose.

The chibi trio then continues forward as they make their way to the final level.

...

The final level takes place in an underground lair that is fiery and belongs to a massive dragon.

The dragon, who is the final boss, is guarding a treasure chest with a possessive aura as this song plays.

Despite the dragon bellowing out a ferocious roar, the trio shows no fear toward the creature.

Cursors become visible above Philip, Cheek, and Pip's heads as the player selects Pip, who leaps high into the air with his axe.

As the kitten accelerates in mid-air, the screen displays the 'C', 'U', 'T', and 'E' buttons, which the player presses at the right times as Pip cutely poses with every click.

The dragon's head is split in half by Pip as he swings his axe down, causing it to cry out in agony.

When its lifeless body collapses, it is transformed into a bonanza of hearts, stars, rainbows, and blood.

After collecting the dragon's stars, the boys celebrate their victory by dancing and posing for a final time.

Upon the team approaching the locked treasure chest, it opens automatically, and a TV, pink gaming console, and a copy of 'Super Cute Fighters!' levitate out and sparkle.

As the chibis gazes at their desired prizes with excited faces, they sparkle, too.

Hearts, rainbows, and stars transition the scene to the ending screen.

...

Philip, Cheek, and Pip are playing 'Super Cute Fighters!' together on their brand-new gaming console.

The background of the ending screen is glittery bubble gum pink, and white pixelated letters spell out the words 'The End' above the chibi trio.

[oddlykilledghosts]

I Want You To Like Me - Rafe Cameron x reader (Part Three)

Summary: You're a pogue by choice, kook from birth. The friendship that you have with the other pogues is undeniable, no one questions their loyalty for you or your loyalty to them. So when a certain King of the Kooks takes interest in you, it's only right to turn him down. Right?

Apologies for the long wait! Had a lot of ways this chapter could’ve gone…but hopefully you guys like what I ended up on…I also ended with a little less Rafe than I had intended but that equals more parts for later on

Also do you guys want me to share my outer banks playlist I listen to while writing these fics? I also have one specifically for this series! Lemme know

p.s. I had Paramore’s “All I Wanted” on repeat while writing this particular part so do with that what you will

Word Count: 7k

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x reader, John B x Sarah Cameron, platonic!Pogues x reader

The phone call aftermath moved very quickly. You had taken a couple minutes too long, soaking up the air that had reached you in the wind from the ocean in a sore attempt to calm your flushed cheeks, and when you returned to the Chateau Pope was awake and Kie and John B had fallen into an argument that left your stomach heavy with added dread. At least, you thought to yourself, that this dread was familiar. Talking on the phone with Rafe Cameron while he was oh so casually “hitting balls” with Topper and Kelce at the country club most definitely did not fall into that category. Pope, who was using the same cereal bowl as you had been and had hopefully cleaned it before his own use, was sitting in the kitchen in a hungover daze looking like he wanted to step into the fight and use a few calming words but couldn’t quite make the leap there. The Chateau’s exterior door to the screened-in porch creaked on its hinges but the indoor entryway opened without noise when you walked in. This calmed your heart rate after hearing the voices inside get louder when you approached the house, not wanting to involve yourself too much in a fight when you had JJ’s hat to be dealt with. Neither of those things mattered though, because when you stood in the doorway debating how to get to your room without getting in the sight of either of the two bickering pogues, Kie spotted you, just as you deciphered what they were arguing about. Sarah. 

In these types of fights between the pogues, there were always sides, but there was also the essential knowledge that the fighting would eventually be resolved. In being the two girls in the group, you ended up sticking by Kie in a lot of times of need whether you agreed with her or not. JJ tended to pick John B. Pope was always the mediator. It was how things worked. And they worked well. This instance, however, was odd. 1) because JJ was out surfing, 2) You owed John B, and 3) because you needed John B’s help with Rafe that day too…which meant Kie was right AND was going to be left in the dust. Plus, a little bit of you also hated that Kie happened to be right that particular day about that particular (*cough* the Cameron’s) topic. Mostly because that very day you were going to go against almost every word she was saying.

Kie reached a hand out to you, urging you to show your alliance by standing physically next to her. If you went, you would be parallel to John B and crossing a line across the threshold. Her eyes poked holes in your heart, as if her gaze caused the blood to fall slowly out of it and pool around your feet in a painting of guilt. It was one argument. She would forgive you. Except that this small, meaningless fight meant more and you knew it. It meant sides. Sides that weren’t in this room. Sides that you and John B were taking. Were you willing to risk fighting for one kiss? That one kiss swam in your bones and it felt so warm, so similar to the sun hitting your skin. But this was wrong. “Y/N, you know I’m right, right?” Your hesitation caused Kie to falter. Normally, she would be full of confidence and show no mercy to her opponents, but as a friend you held her heart in your hands. Unfortunately, you were about to squeeze a little.

You eyed John B carefully but even he looked a little lost and frustrated as you met his gaze. His eyes wavered a bit just as you stepped a foot closer to his side of the room-

“Y/N kissed Rafe.” The room suddenly felt stiff with hot Outer Banks air as the words fell from John B’s mouth.

“WHAT?” Your head snapped immediately back to John B, while at the same time Kiara echoed your shock and your word and looked towards you. Pope munched on his cereal, still a little sleepy and a little bit scared to intervene until he has his wits about him. Luckily he had already gulped down Kiara’s concoction, as it was sitting empty next to his bowl, so he was sure to sober up faster than usual. 

“And he has JJ’s hat.” John B helpfully added to his last statement.

This time only Kiara spoke, “What the fuck, Y/N.” She placed a hand on her forehead and looked down at her feet which you noticed were a pair of vans that had originally belonged to you.

Heartbeat slowing a bit, you paused, looking between John B and Kiara. When your eyes glanced over John B his own eyes urged you to talk. To say something. You didn’t know what his game was. John B obviously had kept his relationship secret for some time now, only making a slip up the night before. Why couldn’t you? Why couldn’t you figure this out without judgment you knew was going to come from your friends? You thought John B understood this. He had forgiven you easily, but only because of his own indiscretions with the middle Cameron sibling. You knew how much this feud hurt Kie, you had been there when it happened. You couldn’t hurt her like this. 

But you already had. 

Kie stood still for a minute, staring at your silence, and finally after playing with the multiple friendship bracelets on her wrist she spoke again with an exasperated sigh, “Let’s go get the hat, Y/N.”

Then she walked out of the Chateau.

“You should probably follow her.” Pope said between munches, he had already poured himself another bowl. The solo cup that had been taped to his hand from the night before had been attacked and was hanging limply but was still unfortunately attached.

When you started towards the door, Pope added with a heavy amount of side eye towards the leader of the pogues, “Both of you.” John B, not wanting to cross Pope when he was probably right, pushed past you and followed Kie out towards the Twinkie. 

“You’ll talk to-” You said, stopping at the door.

“JJ. Yup.” Pope responded. You gave your friend a smile and he gave you one back, laughing a little cautiously as he added, “You know Rafe’s a dick, right?”

You shook your head, a little happy Pope didn’t seem as mad and a little disappointed in yourself that you were here in this situation at all. “Yeah. Just-”

“Talk to JJ. I know. I’ll distract him until you guys get back.”

When you went to leave you again stopped and turned back to Pope, “You don’t hate me, do you?”

Pope turned towards you with a light and soft smile on his face, “No, I don’t, Y/N. Now let me eat my third bowl of cereal. It’s brain-”

“-food. Blah blah. I’m leaving.”

_______________________

When you reached the cars (there were usually only two there, yours and the Twinkie, as well as JJ’s dirt bike) your car was missing and you assumed JJ had taken it down to his favorite surf spot, so Kie had already made herself comfortable in the front seat of the VW van. When you were close enough to see your friends through the windows, you could tell there had been a little spat before you got there because John B was sulking in the back. 

There were always signs that John B was actually upset, only this time you couldn’t even decipher his side profile. He looked more on edge than anything. You wished you could lend him JJ’s hat, as if transferring the magic again…but you’d have to get the hat first and that seemed like it would happen after Kie killed you both. If Kie was really about to blow up she might think to do it in the Twinkie driving 80 down the highway so no one could hear the lecture she was about to induce upon the two of you. The hat magic might cheer up you and John B after being totally eviscerated though.

You knocked on the driver’s side window, and Kiara, looking a little pissed but not fuming, rolled it down. “Yes?” 

The thing was it was weird you could never view Kiara as angry. Yes, she had a lot of anger towards kooks and the environmental damages people and corporations were doing to the planet, but to you she was easy going and carefree and liked to have fun. Her eyebrows being furrowed always submitted confusion first in your mind, not anger. Especially when it was targeted at you.

“I assume I am also in a backseat timeout?”

“Get in the passenger seat, Y/N/N.”

Nicknames were a good sign, so you followed suit and climbed into the passenger side of the Twinkie and hoped Kiara wasn’t planning on crashing the van in a crime of passion and narrowly escaping as the sole survivor.

At first the drive was very quiet. Neither you or John B spoke, but you did send back and forth worrying glances. It was easy to read John B when you knew him like you did, easier now that he was letting you in on his feelings. His eyes gave everything away, and once you got used to looking in them, more often or not it was hardly a feat to discover what his true purposes were. However, you also wanted to send daggers through John B. But as much as you were angry with him you trusted him. He rarely saved his own ass instead of his friends. If this was an attempt to leech all the anger Kiara had about kooks away from him and onto you, you would’ve been able to tell. And so far, there was no sign of that in his deep brown irises. 

Then finally, halfway across the Cut, Kiara started talking. Well, she was more likely demanding answers than plainly having a chat. It started with a question, “Is what John B said true?”

Both you and John B started speaking at the same time but John B was louder and cut you off, “I wouldn’t lie about-”

Kie snapped back quickly, still keeping her eyes on the road, “I was asking Y/N. So shut up.” John B opened his mouth once more to protest, but no words came out and he closed it just as fast.

You sighed as the Twinkie came to a red light, “Yes. I kissed Rafe last night. To be fair, I think I was drunk. But either way, I’m sorry.”

Kie let out a breath, “Is this an ongoing thing?”

You tried to hide the fact that it might be becoming one, but your hesitation with your answer cued Kie off. “...No.”

“But you like him.”

“Jury’s out on that one.”

John B piped up, “I have a feeling the Jury has its verdict.”

At the same time you reached back to hit him, Kiara again told John B to be quiet. Then she continued and peeked a soft glance at you while she was driving while occasionally looking back to the idle road, “You weren’t going to tell me?”

“Maybe not yet? I was very worried I was making the wrong move.”

She sighed and then pulled over onto the side of the street. “Y/N, yeah, I’m mad at you.” Then she took a deep breath in, and with a little more tension in her shoulders she continued, “But you deserve to figure things out. I’ve mostly figured my side of things out…but you came from that side of the island too. However, you are also a pogue, and you are also my best friend. I don’t want you to get hurt. And Rafe well…” Kiara’s voice was full of hard edges and warnings of being careful (and mostly not to cross her again) but you knew she was trying to be understanding. It wasn’t a full switch from how she had been fighting with John B at the Chateau but it was a kinder (in retrospect) approach.

“He’s quite an interesting choice.” John B piped up.

“Shut up John B.” You and Kie said at the same time, and you turned back to each other a smile tainting both of your lips. Connection. You felt this overwhelming urge to hug your friend. Like it was new and fresh, seeing her with clean eyes. It was refreshing to see that your assumptions about Kiara’s reaction had been wrong. That you were worried about this big explosion and the volcano had passed by nonthreateningly. She was still very much her assertive self, but it was recognizable and not seized with so much anger that you couldn’t move past it. That you had been right to trust your gut that Kie was not harboring anger for you, and she never had been. It would just take her time to understand if this was something you really wanted. It would take time for you to understand.

Although there was still anger there that you could clearly see underneath her civility and in her tone that you would be able to work through it at a later date. Maybe when this whole Rafe thing turned out to be a flitting desire and not something that would cause a bigger debacle. You were sure though, that if Kie had suspected it was just hooking up, she would’ve been less angry. It was one thing to have sex with a Kook and it was another to be thinking about having real feelings for one. Especially Rafe. 

“It’s not like I couldn’t see this coming, you have been in love with him since we were friends with Sarah.” Kie added, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes as she showed off some of the facial expressions she had been holding back. 

“I have not been in love with him-” You protested, pouting a little that you had seemed that transparent.

Kie laughed a little and interrupted you, “Okay sure, recently you’ve said you hated him. Which was apparently a lie.”

“Lie my ass!” You protested again, pushing your friend playfully as she sat still at the wheel of the unmoving Twinkie.

“Well either you’re lying to us or yourself.” John B chided annoyingly as he purposefully messed up your hair and leaned up to where you and Kie were sitting. “I think it’s better I said something, look at you two as close as ever.” 

Which was exactly why John B spilled your stupid dirty laundry, you saw it plain and clear in his eyes and a little bit in that stupid smirk. You had figured it shortly into the drive, but John B didn’t want you to be in his position. Kiara was smart and fierce, but she was also stubborn. If you had wandered over to John B’s side and held your secret close to your chest, your friendship with your best friend might have never been the same. He was saving you from later fights. Because he was right, Rafe could end badly. You might need your best friend for that. Big John never said honesty was the best policy, but you liked to think that he would be proud of the pogues sticking together.

You stole a look at Kie and she nodded in confirmation, then you both used your hands to push John B back into the back of the Twinkie with force. He landed on the floor of the vehicle with a soft thud and a playful chuckle. “John B, you are a quarter forgiven. Don’t push your luck. You’re still dating my mortal enemy.” Kie said with a sharp tongue, throwing a dagger of a look towards your mutual friend. Somehow the incident with you had lightened her mood about Sarah, and you hoped she could also learn to forgive John B for keeping that a secret. You were ready just that morning to lay your life down for the same if not worse conditions.

“Does this mean I’m fully forgiven?” You asked, looking at Kiara and your similar chokers and shared shoes. There was a kinship there, in the things you shared as pogues. As if you were all connected. It showed in JJ’s shirts you found and ended up sleeping in. Or one of Pope’s button downs. But you and Kie shared the most, your styles intermingled and showed the bond. Kook turned pogue, mirror images. 

Kiara sighed and rolled her eyes, “I’m still deliberating. We still have to get the hat back.”

You checked your phone, it was eleven twenty a.m. you still had time to make it to Tannyhill. “Rafe said to meet him at Tannyhill at noon.”

In an attempt to not make things worse, you assumed Kiara elected to ignore that you had made plans to meet up with Rafe, whether it be for JJ’s hat or not. And you were glad she did. You needed your best friend.

“Gun it.” John B said with a smirk, still on the floor of the Twinkie. 

“This thing only goes so fast, Routledge.” Kiara retorted, but pulled back onto the road and hit the gas hard. 

___________________

You got to Tannyhill with ten minutes to spare, which was exceedingly lucky with how fast the Twinkie goes. When you arrived, you noticed that there were a few straggling cars from the night before that were still parked around the house and on the street. This time, rather than what you had thought the night before, you knew Ward would not approve this. He’s more of the kind of man that pretends to be friendly with neighbors and isn’t actually forgiving. But now with less people at the property, it was open enough to pull into the house’s driveway. You really hoped that Rafe was right and Sarah would not be home since everything was still fairly fresh with Kie. Seeing the two girls go head to head would be too much for one morning. 

When finally you made it close enough to the front door, Kiara put the Twinkie into park and looked around, as if a group of Kooks was about to ambush us. When she seemed to think it was all clear, she got out of the car. It was your turn to ask a question, “Where are you going?” you asked, a little afraid of what her answer would be because as soon as you asked it John B was already out of the car too (although a bit more comfortable with the house than Kie seemed to be).

Kie shrugged and motioned for you to come out, “We’re getting the hat, you coming Y/N/N?”

See, to you this could mean many things, and several of them went through your mind. The most common instance is that Kie would pummel Rafe. It was safer than sorry to follow your friends so you didn’t end up locked up after assaulting someone and Rafe claiming a B&E case.

You caught up quickly with your fellow pogues but started to protest that you should go in alone. That it was fine. You could get it and everything would be great. Both of your friends swatted your protests away as soon as you reached the front door. “You need backup,” Kie would say. “We get the hat, get out, it’ll be an adventure,” John B added, though you weren’t quite sure what adventure he was referring to that would land you at Tannyhill. Then Rafe opened the door, with you tugging on John B’s arm to turn back to the Twinkie, John B pulling you towards the door and Kiara’s arms crossed in a defensive pose. You froze with your hands locked around John B’s arm.

“Sarah’s not here.” Rafe said in a bored voice to John B, the door only open enough for his silhouette as if he were afraid all three of you would barge in if he opened it wider. His eyes subtly passed over you in a quick motion as he scanned the three of you and immediately you dropped John B’s arm. A sizable bit of embarrassment washed over you, but you let it go easily as you looked at Rafe in the doorway. Mostly because if anyone at all knew that you weren’t with John B, it would be the Cameron boy. 

Kiara spoke up in a stern voice, “We’re here for the hat, actually.”

Rafe’s eyebrows twitched, as if remembering Kie’s brashness for the first time, “Well, actually, I’m curious why you think I have a hat you would want.”

Kiara pointed towards you without breaking eye contact with Rafe, “This one,” she paused and smiled smugly. “Seems to think you do.”

Rafe looked back to you swiftly but his expression stayed bored and made of stone, and his eyes went quickly back to Kiara, “Then only they can come in.”

Kie crossed her arms and looked at John B as if asking him a question but he shrugged subtly and she went to look at you, “Okay. We’ll be waiting.”

You stepped forward and Rafe opened the door to just fit you through, although you had to duck underneath his arm to get through the threshold. He smelled nice, you’re sure like some expensive cologne he owned, and it wafted close to you as you passed him almost enveloping your senses.

When he shut the door you heard John B yell something through the door that sounded a lot like, “No funny business you two!” And then something like Kie smacking him on his head.

———————————

Rafe led you to the living room, to the same couch on which you had talked to him the night before. But he stayed standing, leaning himself against the wall watching you. You couldn’t tell if he wanted you to sit down so you stayed standing opposite him and crossed your arms in an act to do something with your limbs. It seemed like he was telling the truth about not drinking much, he had been up early to golf and seeing him now he had the same glow around him that came with Cameron sobriety.

“So…” You started, looking at him expectantly. 

“Why are your friends here?” He asked, looking stern and unmoving. The house was more quiet than you remembered in your past kook years and it unnerved you a bit. When you had been friends with Sarah there was always laughing, always the three of you, and the house didn’t seem so big. But occupying the new space there again was the feeling you had, pulling you towards Rafe Cameron, as if it filled the emptiness. It buzzed inside your bones and all of a sudden all you could think about was kissing him again as if this feeling was controlling your every thought. Because you wanted to. You wanted to forget about your friends outside and “kooks vs pogues” and just kiss Rafe Cameron because you could. Because you had, and you weren’t ready to give that up. 

You were staring at his lips when Rafe spoke again, causing you to jolt back up to his blue eyes. “I didn’t think one kiss would have you running off to your friends so fast, Y/N.”

There was a hint of familiarity in his words that awakened your senses back to normal, something that reminded you of the old Rafe when he would tease you and Sarah. You shrugged, “They just want the hat and then they’ll leave.”

“Will you leave?” Rafe prompted harshly, stepping a foot closer to you and away from the wall. His eyes were cloudy and you couldn’t see beyond his intentions. You wanted to believe that he wanted you there. That you could stay. Spend a real day with Rafe away from everyone. 

It took a second for you to decide on your words, but when you did they came out easily, “You invited me, I planned to stick around.” You crossed your arms again after you spoke, a little uneasy in standing your ground. “Now where’s JJ’s hat?”

“Always sticking up for Maybank, Y/N. It’s really hard for me to believe you don’t have a thing for him.” As he spoke he walked towards one of the linen closets and waved you towards it. His words, you knew, were an insult coming from his mouth, but it barely bothered you. JJ and you were very close, as you were with all the pogues. Even John B had once mentioned the two of you becoming a couple. But it was odd it was something Rafe noticed. Then he spoke again, nodding you towards the closet, “Kept it nice and pretty for you.” His tone was a little condescending, but otherwise not laced with malice like you had expected.

You made a face at Rafe and walked over to the closet and when you opened the door there it was. You didn’t want to admit that his comment of ‘Kept it nice and pretty’ was actually accurate as it rested nicely on some fresh white towels. No gasoline stains or smells and no tears in it (as your imagination had led you to believe). It was sitting plainly in the closet. “Why is it-” You started.

Rafe was by your side the minute you spoke, sparing little distance between the two of you. “Didn’t want anyone to see it.” There were doubts to this comment, but you didn’t poke at them. His friends were casually showing up at Tannyhill most days, and even Sarah would’ve asked questions about Rafe having JJ’s hat in his possession.

“And I assume you didn’t want JJ’s hat ‘tainting’ your perfect room. Pogue paraphernalia would never dare to disrupt the King of the Kook’s room.” These words dripped with sarcasm, a usual tone in the Chateau, and it alarmed you that you were making playful remarks at the kook in front of you instead of plainly insulting him. 

Rafe ignored your joke, and slight jeer at him, and glanced at your lips a little too quickly. “Is this a confession that you’ve been thinking of my room, Y/N?”

You stepped back, trying to keep your composure, “No,” You grabbed the hat and pushed through Rafe to make your way back to the front door. You spoke this time now facing away from the kook, and slightly waving him off with the hat in your hand, “According to you, I should be fantasizing about JJ’s room.” Then you added quickly, “If anything.”

Before Rafe could catch up with you, you had already opened the door. Kie and John B fell hard onto the entryway’s hardwood floors as you swung the door open. It was obvious they had been leaning against the door when it had been closed. Either listening or resting against the doorway. Probably listening. You let it go, since you figured they had a right to be a little nosey. When you had opened the door quickly, the two pogues had fallen with a thud and now opened their eyes to you looming over them. “Got the hat.” You said cheerfully to your friends laying on the floor, waving the hat from your fingertips into their view. 

It seemed too easy. Too nice of Rafe to not burn up JJ’s hat in anger at the pogues. They’ve had enough squabbles for that to be possible. But there it was in your hands, and here you were ready to get it back to its owner as if nothing had ever happened. 

A part of you hoped that maybe that hat hinted at something softer in Rafe. The Rafe who might have liked you. Seen you care, and then cared in tandem. It didn’t seem like something he would do, and yet you wanted to hope. 

Kiara grabbed it from your hands and sat up, leaving John B to nurse his head while still laying pathetically on the floor. “Mission accomplished,” Kiara praised, a little in spite of herself and then looked annoyingly down at John B. “Get up, JJ’s probably already at the Chateau.”

At first John B didn’t move but only offered up both of his hands, and after a round of Kiara calling him pathetic you both helped him up. He was a lot heavier than he looked and Kiara kept calling him names but eventually you both got the boy standing upright. Rafe stood watch as you and Kiara struggled, not offering any help because either he knew it wouldn’t be received or he didn’t want to. Both you and Kiara made sure to send an unpleasant face his way but he just shrugged and looked smug. It was quick going after that as you all knew JJ could stay out on the ocean all day, but he wouldn’t as he had a shift at the country club. So there was a small window of him noticing it was gone and your friends being able to retrieve it back to him. 

As John B and Kiara were making their exit they turned back to you, as you had stayed in the entrance to Tannyhill. Kiara called back encouragingly and a bit hopefully, “You coming, Y/N/N?” John B looked more like he knew your answer already and gave you a little nod back towards yourself, and additionally towards Rafe who he could see standing beyond you. You could feel it again, that buzzing, that pull…whatever it was. It was here. And you wanted it. You wanted to feel it. You wanted to fall into it. And as always, it was radiating off of Rafe who was standing a few feet behind you. And now that you were here you were more than aware of his presence.

“No I’m okay, tell JJ I had to go home for the day.” You looked back behind you, catching a glimpse of Rafe again leaning up against the wall and watching you. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.” You waved to your friends, although Kiara looked a little unconvinced of your safety at the Kook residence, but she got into the Twinkie all the same and drove away (mostly after John B gave her a little nudge and not after she gave Rafe the finger). 

You turned around and closed the door.

__________________________

The minute you closed the door, no longer supervised, you felt the pull become stronger. It felt odd to be alone with him. You hadn’t spent this much time with the Kook since your days of being friends with his sister. Him just standing a few feet from you  felt intimidating. A beat of silence passed between the two of you as Rafe took you in.

You prayed he couldn’t hear your quickened heart beat.

“About last night-” You started, playing with the choker Kie had let you borrow. 

Rafe was suddenly moving towards you until he was a couple inches away. Subconsciously he took a small step back, but not quite big enough to give you any actual space to have your own thoughts. His eyes were suddenly harsh but when he spoke it was rushed and quiet, “If you’re going to say it was a mistake-”

You opened up your mouth to speak but he interrupted you before you could. “I don’t think it’s a mistake.”

Part of you wanted to be truthful, that you agreed. That you wanted more of him. But when you opened your mouth again, something else came out. “What?” Nerves got the better of you. This Rafe wasn’t one you were familiar with yet. The one clear with his feelings. Clear with feelings towards you.

That step that he took to separate the two of you was a distance you wanted to sever. And now, subconsciously hating that distance, you took a step forward towards the boy so close to you, and yet it still felt too far. You could practically feel the heat from his body and the breath coming evenly from his mouth and nose on your cheeks. Rafe’s eyes didn’t leave yours. Didn’t even look down to check you out, though he easily could. “Do you want me to say it?” Rafe questioned, leaning towards you a little more, wanting clear in his eyes so locked with your own.

Heat flooded into your cheeks, and you knew he was pretending not to be pleased at the sight. You wanted desperately to kiss him. To stop this pathetic excuse of talking. But you also did want him to say it. To soothe your mind about his intentions. “A little,” you said, trying to keep your voice as even as his. 

“You don’t think I want you?” Rafe chided, turning his head slightly to the side with a smirk. 

“No,” you shook your head. “I think you do and you don’t want to admit it.”

And then, with Rafe’s face twisted slightly in confusion, you closed the gap between the two of your bodies and pulled him close to you. You didn’t want to hesitate anymore, you wanted to dive in. His body reacted, even in his small state of shock at your words, and he melted slightly into you as you kissed, his arms immediately wrapping around you and pulling you as close to him as humanly possible. It was wanting. Wanting each other. Wanting more. Wanting this. His body was warm, so much warmer than you were, and he felt sturdy. Safe somehow. More stern than other people you’d kissed. Your hands found their way up to his hair and it was unsurprisingly soft, you used it to pull him closer to you. He happily obliged to your touch.

You could tell he urged to touch you anywhere he could, but his hands stayed protectively on your back and waist as if holding you was enough for now. They felt nice there, as if you belonged in his embrace. There was something in him holding back and you wanted to let it loose. To scream that he could do what he wanted. You tried to urge that in the kiss, but you let it stay safe.

And then a breath of air, the two of you wanting to breathe but not wanting it to end. When you both detached your hands were on either of his face, cupping him there in a soft touch. And then there were his words, so easily misinterpreted, “Do you want to go up to my room?”

____________________

You had passed Rafe Cameron’s room many times. Laughing with Sarah as you gossiped in the hallway on your way to her room. Knocking on it to remind him to come down for dinner with his family when you were invited over. You remember exactly where it was, but you let Rafe guide you up the stairs with his hand in yours which felt so warm you wished you could bottle his warmth to keep with you when you were cold. His palm burned in your hand as it pulled you along.

The door was closed, just as you remembered, but he opened it easily as he pulled you back onto him and into the unfamiliar space. There was no time to observe what he put on his bedside table or what books he liked to read because Rafe was on you, springing you onto the bed and met you with another kiss there. This time, however, his hands moved along your body and slid along your curves. You were there with him, matching his energy as you urged to tug off the t-shirt he was wearing. 

Kie had been right. You had wanted this. For longer than you even let yourself believe. 

And suddenly you felt a little guilty that you hadn’t seen it before. That you doubted Kiara would support you. That you had waited this long. Because for a second, this felt overwhelmingly right. Right enough that all that time that had passed where this had not happened felt like a waste.

A short breath of air as Rafe pulled off his shirt and leaned down to kiss you again. The quick second he was away from you, the pull you had begun feeling reappeared but this time it was intoxicating and welcoming and pleasurable all at once, and it begged you to bring him back down for another long kiss.

“Wait-” You said, short of breath and flushed in your cheeks. 

Rafe stopped, even though you hadn’t expected him too, and loomed over you expectantly as his body heat encapsulated you in warmth, “What?” He replied, sounding a little annoyed.

“I just-” You paused, pushing a small lock of hair from his face and brushing your hand against his face. He seemed to suddenly freeze at your touch, as if it was too intimate for him. The world honestly could’ve stopped right there for you, just looking up at him. But then another thought came into your mind. “Is this what you had in mind for a date?” You questioned, confusion and annoyance mixing into one now that you remembered what he had said on your short phone call earlier in the day. 

Rafe rolled off of you and onto the bed that was unoccupied on your right and let out a small huff, “No.” Was all he said. He didn’t move to fetch his shirt that was now discarded on the floor. 

All you had to do was turn your head to look at him, so you did, and he was staring at his ceiling fan with his eyebrows knit together. His own face was also a little flushed and you wanted to touch his cheek again to see if his own warmth was magnified there. “I don’t want to be a hookup Rafe.” Was what you replied. 

Rafe turned his head, his face still stern and unreadable, while little strands of his hair falling into his eyes as he did so, and calmed a single piece inside of you that thought you were being played by the eldest Cameron, “We have a reservation at the Island Club this evening.”

“What?” A little shock went through you as you sat up at his confession. You were going to be seen in public while having dinner with Rafe Cameron. As your first date. An actual date. Did he bring every girl to the Island Club on their first date? You didn’t think he did, you’d never heard that before anyways. He was casual, you’d seen him date girls his dad wanted him to. But even when you were at the Island Club with your family, you’d never seen a girl on Rafe’s arm or at the Cameron’s table other than his sisters. This was something bigger, and here he was saying it.

“Do you not want to go?” Rafe asked, rubbing his eyes, still laying on his back.

You looked down at the boy, “I’m just surprised. I was about to have sex with you.”

“You were surprised you were going to have sex with me?” 

“No. Rafe. It’s just- This is all very confusing.”

That made Rafe sit up to meet your eyes at a clear level. “Y/N.”

“I was just about to go against everything and become a hookup and here you are saying we have this reservation-” You ached to touch him again, but the inches between the two of you on the bed felt like it was growing with each second. 

Rafe interrupted you, “Do you think it was Sarah’s idea to invite John B to the party last night?” 

This threw you off for a second. 

“Yes?” You phrased this as a question, but it seemed obvious to you that it was Sarah’s decision.

“When she asked, I told her she could invite him hoping his friends would come. Hoping you would come.” Rafe’s face stayed stoic and his chest moved evenly, but what he said didn’t sound confident like he usually did. It sounded like it was the truth, behind a wall he didn’t want to let down.

“But you hate pogues.” Rafe looked at you like you were stupid until you realized what he was saying, “You sat next to me on purpose.”

This time Rafe raised his eyebrows in annoyance, “It took awhile for Maybank to leave you the fuck alone, that’s for sure.”

A beat of silence as you went through the night before. 

“What if I didn’t come? What if I didn’t like you?” You wanted reassurance because you did like him. More than you wanted to admit. You wanted to ignore your differences and all of Rafe’s past shit and just be.  You wanted him to say it. 

Rafe dodged your questions with a response of his own, holding eye contact with you. “You aren’t a hookup, Y/N. Okay? Does that answer your question?”

For a split second you had to process. As if this was information you hadn’t quite gotten a hold of just yet. But there it was. Rafe Cameron actually liked you. He was closed off, sure, but this was his way of saying it. Of saying he would’ve tried harder. How many times had you seen him pick up food at The Wreck when you were there? Especially when you know he knows that it’s part pogue institution. Or out of the corner of your eye when you visited JJ at the Island Club? Or trying to talk to you at last year’s Midsummer's but Kiara kept butting in and pulling you away?

“Yes,” You said, moving a little closer to the boy. “It does.” Your heart was pounding. You did want to have sex with Rafe. Maybe not now. Maybe not even on your third date. But you wanted to. You wanted there to be a third date. You wanted to like him. 

You touched his face and moved on top of his lap, “Kiss me again.” You whispered close enough so only he could hear.

And he did.

☆taglist: @totallynotkaibiased @asimpwriter @kriss-harrington @parkershoco @sarahlizzie @craftyalmondghostflap @siriuslysmoking @igotmajordaddyissues @strngtsblog @fangirlfree @slvtherinseeker

[bumbburger]

Tiny Soap Part 2 that I forgot to upload here forever ago. .. SORRY

Simon yawned, closing his laptop as he felt he had gotten everything done that he needed to. Soap had not magically returned to his size during his nap, and he was certain he'd get an earful when he woke up.

Simon had spent most of his time communicating over secure lines with Price, discussing the intel they had collected to form their next mission. That wouldn't be for a couple weeks still, so he wasn't particularly worried about it. He stretched his arms over his head and cracked his neck, feeling a new soreness from keeping it craned down to stare at the screen. He sighed quietly as he reminded himself to do some stretches later, he hated feeling stiff.

Simon felt his own stomach growling under his hoodie, he hoped his tiny Soap wouldn't wake up from the noise (mostly because he didn't want to hear the whining). He looked down at his pocket, and once certain that the little man was still sleeping soundly, he swung his legs over the couch and stood up. He placed a hand over his pocket protectively, as if something would just attack at any moment. No attacks came, seeing as they were just alone in their own secluded house. It was ridiculous to fear for his safety like this, but Simon just couldn't bear to let his guard down around his even more fragile than before Soap.

Not that Johnny was fragile before his mishap, he was incredibly capable really, and downright dangerous to fight. Simon knew this, yet he couldn't help the heat that boiled in his blood when he knew Soap could be in danger, in any capacity. He'd protect him however long he needed to, and as aggressively as his brain warranted.

Simon grunted, dissipating the thought and returning to the kitchen. He was fixing to make a can of chicken noodle soup, or whatever else they had available. He figured he could at least give Soap a bit of broth, or maybe let him nibble on a noodle…

He shook his head again and carefully reached into the cupboards for the nearest can. He was incredibly aware of his movements so as not to jostle his pocket Soap. He pulled the easy tab and grabbed a reasonably sized ceramic bowl to prepare his soup.

His pocket rustled at the sound of microwave buttons being pushed.

There was a little yawn, and soon small hands stretched from the pocket and blue eyes stared up at Simon.

"Mornin'." Came Simon's gruff response.

Soap looked down at himself in dismay.

"I'm still pocket-sized?!" His voice wavered. Simon spared him a glance of pity.

"You aren't gonna start crying, are you? I'm making soup." Simon scratched at the back of his head. He watched as Soap took a deep breath, and he braced himself for the earful he was about to receive.

"How am I s'posed to do any of the stuff I love to anymore! I can't kiss ye, I can't cuddle ye, can't do shite!" Soap rubbed his eyes angrily.

Simon's lips pulled into a gentle smile. He carefully pulled Soap from his pocket and kissed his face, more so just pressing his lips onto him to be safe. Soap reached his arms over Simon's cheeks and hugged his face that way.

"That better?" Simon mumbled.

"No. But it'll have to do…" Soap gave him a dramatic sniffle. Simon huffed and pulled Soap away to set him back on the table. He shifted the subject to their lunch.

"Want some soup? I can give you a noodle, maybe…"

Soap shook his head a little.

"Still full…"

"From the berry? That was like 3 hours ago, you should just have a little. Nutrition and shit." Simon crossed his arms.

"I dinnae think that's how that works-"

The microwave sounded and Simon took out his soup, putting the bowl down on the table.

"Just have a little, then. You'd throw a fit if I only ate berries for breakfast too."

That seemed to shut him up. Soap would definitely pester Simon if he tried to skip on meals.

"Just a noodle…" He gazed up at Simon as he reached into his bowl with a separate spoon, placing it beside Soap, noodle secured.

"It's hot. Let it rest a minute before you try anything."

Soap huffed.

"As if I'm eager to burn my taste buds off-"

"Alright, calm down sassy."

"Sassy?" He scoffed. "Oh I'll show you sassy, you just wait until this plague wears off-"

Simon chuckled a bit.

"I look forward to it." He brought some soup up to his own lips and gently blew the steam away from it.

Soap waited for his meal to cool down a bit, kicking his feet idly as he waited.

He pursed his lips as he thought, mouth parting to ask Simon a question.

"What if it doesn't wear off?"

Simon drew a breath and put his spoon down in his bowl.

"Nonsense. You clearly just pissed off some celestial creature, I doubt they can just leave you inhumanely tiny, that'd interrupt the natural order… or something." Simon wasn't sure he believed the words himself, but he didn't have much of a choice aside from blind faith.

The answer made about as much sense as it could, Soap supposed. Satisfied, he turned to his cooler noodle and began to work on it. Simon returned to his meal as well, making short work of it.

Once he'd finished off his bowl, he returned to the cupboards and retrieved another can of soup. They weren't incredibly big portions to start with, so Simon didn't mind having another. He opened the new can and placed it in the microwave, leaning on the counter as he waited.

Soap was less successful with his portion. Tiny bite marks lined the noodle laying in the spoon, but it was hardly progress. Simon would be lying if he said the sight wasn't just slightly amusing.

"Too much?" He glanced down at the sad sight on the table.

Soap shook his head indignantly.

"No- I've got it just fine, thank you very much." He huffed and sat back, taking a break. Life was truly hard.

Simon kept cracking that pretty smile of his, and Soap almost considered staying tiny forever just to see it more often.

He glanced down at him curiously.

"What are you starin' at, you little bugger-" Simon prodded in a playful tone.

"Jus' yer smile. You always talk about mine but that there is real sunshine." Soap responded smoothly.

Simon quirked his lips closed, staring down at Soap with a redness over his features. Was it that easy to embarrass the big scary man?

It seemed it was.

Simon quickly turned once the microwave sounded again, and he resumed his ritual, bringing the bowl back to the table.

Soap was still watching his features with great adoration. Simon let his smile creep back up again.

He reached over the table to poke Soap's belly affectionately, similarly to how he handles their kitten they adopted.

"Alright enough staring, you little romantic. Eat your lunch." Simon brought his hand back to rest on his lap as he worked on his new bowl of soup.

Soap gave him a sarcastic salute as he straightened his back.

"Yes sir!"

(From other tiny Soap shenanigans on Twitter)

[eyndr-stories]

To Be Alive (FNAF SB fanfic) C3 - Tis Better To Have Loved and Loved Again

In summary:

At long last, the thrilling continuation of 'To Be Human'! There are more shenanigans for Star and co to get up to, and new horrors to be subjected to! Not to mention, Eclipse is still at large and up to no good... As 'To Be Human' is a self contained stand-alone story, one could very well choose to leave the adventure as is! Considering there are some heavier themes in this one (biggest thing here being death, specifically) that's exactly what I would recommend you do if you like everything very much the way it ended in 'To Be Human'. This story is an exploration of a few ideas I wanted to work with left over from the first story, and a way to tie up some very minor loose ends, as well as a return to some characters and a world I had a lot of fun with.

Things To Know:

Reader insert! Y/N is not used and gender is not specified, though the reader does have a blorbo-appointed name (Star)

Non-specified relationships between reader and Sun & Moon, this can be read as pals, family, partners, whatever you like, totally up to your interpretation

Sun & Moon are separate bots and referred to with gender neutral pronouns

The reader and other characters are often in mortal peril! This world is full of Funky Creatures (other than you) and some of them attack and hurt several characters, including the reader character

Some blood and minor gore

Occasional swearing

Death

(as always, let me know if I should add anything!)

Ao3 link: Right here!

Start reading here: Chapter 1

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

C3 - Tis Better To Have Loved and Loved Again

     The coughing was not helping your headaches. The coughing was a recent development, and had prompted another round of tests and scans. You met once again with your old nemesis, the weird scan chair. Though it was less of a chair and more of a long vertical bowl with a flat shelf at the bottom. Despite your less than fond memories of the machine, you sat in it very calmly when Moon politely asked you to. The chair hummed and glowed and tickled your brain, and then gave Moon a long complicated readout of information once it was finished with its scan.

     You got out of the chair and climbed up on one of the nearby tables instead. You fiddled absentmindedly with a random tool as Moon went over the information, silently sharing and transferring data with Sun. Sun, meanwhile, was compiling data on another one of the plants from the farm, trying to learn as much about the toxin as they could.

     Moon had almost gotten through all of the data when they and Sun both froze. They stopped what they were doing and looked at each other. Moon turned back to you.

     "Star, would you mind if we ran one more scan? I just need to double check something," Moon said. Their voice was even quieter than usual.

     "I guess so." You hopped down from the table and climbed back up in the chair.

     Moon ran another scan. Sun came over to read the information with them once the scan was finished. You hopped out of the chair and tried to read the information filling up the small screen as well, but the words were too technical and moving too fast for you to figure out.

     Sun and Moon shared another look.

     "Bad news?" you asked.

     Moon turned away. Sun started fidgeting.

     "…Your symptoms are going to keep worsening, and rapidly. The cough, the headaches, the exhaustion. It looks like you're going to start having stomach troubles as well, there's… quite a lot of acid building up in your system. Your stomach is doing everything it can to break down the toxins while the toxins are slowly breaking down your stomach in return." Sun paused.

     "What else?" you asked.

     "…" Sun's hands were shaking now.

     "You have an estimated eleven days left," Moon said.

     "…Oh." Eleven days. Somehow, that didn't seem real. None of this seemed real. It felt like you were dreaming, but not quite. "Huh. That's not great."

     "We're working so hard, Star. We'll find a cure. We will," Sun stated.

     "We're going to work until we can figure out a cure. We won't leave the lab until we do," Moon said.

     "But if I only have eleven days…" You weren't sure how to word this delicately. "If you can't find a cure in time... I don't want to waste the time I have left. I'd rather spend it with you two."

     Sun pulled you into a tight hug. Moon joined in, wrapping their arms around both of you.

     "We can make time for you," Sun assured. "We want you to be happy."

     "I am happy. This past year with you two has been the happiest year of my life," you joked.

     They both laughed, which made you smile.

     "Nevermind that you've only been alive a year," Moon said.

     "It's been a very good year," you told them.

     And so it was for the next few days. You found yourself trying very hard to make the most out of every moment, even though several moments were less than ideal. The coughing fits got bad enough that you'd sometimes wind up throwing up, and eventually started coughing up blood. The headaches left you in bed and miserable for hours on end, at least until Sun and Moon managed to create some kind of medicine that helped tremendously with the pain.

     Those first few days, you were trying so hard to make the most of things and not waste the time you had left, that you were actually only making yourself more upset. That is, until you came to a realization one sleepless night. More of a decision than a realization, really.

     If you were going to die, and there was nothing to be done about it, then that was that. There was nothing to be done, so why worry about it? All you could do was focus on the here and now. So why not have fun while you could?

     You went out stargazing, climbed trees when you had the energy, went to the creek and stuck your feet in the cold water and picked up shiny stones. You even managed to catch a small fish with your hands, though when you proudly held it up to show it off to Sun and Moon, the slippery fish wriggled free and whacked you in the face before flopping back into the water. You still loved nature and the world, despite the fact that it was the world that was trying to kill you.

     You played little songs for Sun and Moon on your ukulele, drew them pictures, made up silly little stories for them, played games with them, made sure they took breaks when they'd been working in the lab for too long. You lived every moment deciding what would be the most fun to do, and then you did it.

     There were still many moments when certain thoughts would become too heavy. Fears about the future, not being here to look after Sun and Moon and fight off forest creatures that wandered a little too close to your home. Thoughts about how you might not get to have another birthday. Thoughts wondering about what it would be like to be dead, if it would be like anything at all.

     But then you would pick up your ukulele or your pens (which were collecting small dents on them as you developed the habit of gnawing on the ends of the pens while you were thinking), bother Sun and Moon, hum a song, or go outside. And you'd feel a little bit better, most of the time.

     Singing was difficult at times, when coughing fits would hit you and refuse to let you be. It was still fun though, and something about it was very calming. You taught Sun and Moon how to sing as well. Moon took to it really well. Some nights, when you had trouble sleeping for one reason or another, Moon would sit with you and quietly hum little songs until you fell asleep.

     Sun, meanwhile, was gradually becoming more and more attentive to your every move. It was getting to the point where if you so much as sneezed, Sun would be tucking you into bed with some warm water and medication and running minor scans on you. This was a little stifling, to say the least. When you mentioned this to Sun, as gently as possible of course, Sun apologized and explained what you'd already known; Sun was just worried about you and doing everything they could to help.

     Sun admitted they might have been going a little overboard, and promised you they'd back off a little. You wanted to say or do something to reassure Sun, make things easier on them and Moon. You knew they were both stressing and worrying over you, and working tirelessly to find that cure. You couldn't find the right words. Sun appreciated the effort regardless.

~~~

     Sun and Moon really were working as hard as they could to find a cure. Your eleven days went by a lot faster than you would have liked. Your energy had been gradually draining away. You were exhausted just moving from one end of your home to the other, and Sun and Moon could hardly be persuaded to take breaks anymore.

     That's why you were confused when, on the eleventh day, they both came up from the lab to greet you. They wasted no time, crossing the room swiftly to help you out of bed.

     "What's going on? Need some more scans?" you asked, even though the acid in your throat made talking uncomfortable.

     Sun shook their head. "We did it. We made a cure. We've run our tests and it works."

     "Most of the time," Moon added. "But there's not a whole lot of time to run more tests. It's safe to give it a try."

     Moon and Sun helped you down to the lab. You sat on one of the tables, elbows braced on your knees.

     "This first dose in an injection. After this they'll be edible capsules, like your pain medicine," Sun informed you as they prepared a needle, ensuring there were no air bubbles in the pale pink liquid.

     Moon wiped clean a small spot on your arm and held your hand. "We should know relatively quickly if it works."

     You barely felt the needle. Your head was swimming, that exhaustion hanging over you like a persistent fog.

     The waiting was horrible. Sun couldn't seem to stop moving, pacing around and going over notes again and again. Moon held your hand like a lifeline, like it was the only thing keeping them grounded.

     Finally, it was time to run a scan and see if it had worked.

     Sun and Moon stood close together, bent over the readout screen. They ran the scan two more times.

     When they finally looked at you, they didn't have to say anything. You already knew.

     "It… It worked, it's clearing the toxin from your system without issue, but… you… it's still… it's not…" Sun couldn't seem to finish their sentence.

     "It's too late. Damage has been done. I'm going to die," you finished for them.

     Moon just stood there, like they didn’t have the first clue what to do with themself. Sun, on the other hand, was in motion. Slow at first, their momentum building as they went, movements growing bigger and shakier. They stormed the length of the lab, swept their arms across tables, knocking a year’s worth of research and documentation crashing to the floor, along with whatever tools and devices were unlucky enough to be in their path. They threw their fists into the scanning chair again and again until it was unrecognizable.

     You had nothing you could say, even if trying to talk wasn’t painful. Tears fell hot and heavy, running down your face, pooling under your chin and dripping onto your legs. Strange. You hadn't cried once this whole time, not when you first found out you were dying, not even once during your final eleven days. It all seemed to be finally catching up with you.

     As much as it sucked to die, to know you weren’t going to get any more birthdays, to be face to face with the terror of the fact that you were going to stop existing and there was nothing to be done about it, and you didn’t even have time. No time to process, to live a life you wanted, do the things you wanted, spend more time with Sun and Moon and your friends, time to exist. Although… even if you did have the time, you weren't sure if you'd ever be able to fully come to terms with something like the loss of yourself. As much as you were you terrified and in deep despair over your fate, the worst part of this was seeing Moon and Sun like this. Knowing they’d be in such misery long after you were gone, and you wouldn't be there to help them through it.

     “It’s not fair. Its NOT FAIR.” Sun's voice fizzled with static as their voice box strained to handle the volume of their voice. Sun fell to their knees, glaring at the destroyed heap of metal and wires and glass before them as if it had all been the scanner’s fault. “All this time and effort and work and hope and everything. What a joke! To find a cure, but it’s just too late. Too late.”

     Moon still stood there uselessly. Helplessly. “This can’t be real,” they whispered. “Even if it is it can’t be like this. It just can’t. There’s something, there has to be…” even as they spoke, they knew there was nothing to be done. They’d already done it all, everything they could have done, and now there was nothing left but the consequence of their best being simply not enough.

     You had to say something. You didn't think there was anything at all you could possibly say to make this better, but you had to say something. "It's really not so bad. Dying now, instead of living and dying later. This way, it won't hurt as much. It would have hurt more to have to let go of me after a lifetime together."

     Moon shook their head. "This isn't about us. This isn't fair to you. We brought you into this world, made you live, just for you to…"

     "You deserve a long and happy and fulfilling life. You don't deserve this," Sun said.

     "I know. But there's nothing we can do about it now." You took a deep breath, fighting back the rising urge to cough. "You two have to promise me you'll be okay, when I'm gone. I won't be able to make sure you're okay myself. Promise me."

     Sun and Moon looked at each other. They both promised. They promised they'd look after each other, and they'd do their best.

     "Thank you." That made things a little easier, you felt. Maybe not better, but easier. You wanted to say more, do more, but you started coughing again before you could. The coughing fit lasted a while this time, and left you breathless and sore by the end of it.

     Sun couldn't seem to look at you, while Moon couldn't seem to look away.

     "You should rest," Moon said, though their voice was flat and hollow, no meaning behind the words, like they'd spoken on autopilot alone.

     You shook your head. "I might not wake up. I don't want to waste the time I have left. I don't want to be asleep when it happens."

     Moon nodded. Sun made a quiet noise and quickly put a hand over their mouth.

     "Is there anything you want?" Moon asked.

     "Can we sit outside? I want to be outside, with the two of you. Just for a while," you said.

     Wordlessly, Sun and Moon helped you up. They helped you to the elevator, though 'helped' was a strong word. They were doing all the work, carrying you between them.

     Outside, the sun was setting and the breeze was gentle. The sky was clear, and the grass was soft as you sat beside the garden, beside your home, beside your family.

     You took Sun's hand in your left and Moon's hand in your right and sat with them as you all watched the sunset. It was a good one, the colors warm and vibrant and wonderful despite it all. You watched the colors start to fade into darkness as the world spun on. It'd keep spinning on without you, not a moment's hesitation to its dedicated path through the cosmos.

     "I love you both. So, so much," you said. It didn't need to be said, but you needed to say it anyways.

     "We love you too," Sun said quietly, all their rage gone.

     "We love you so much," Moon said gently.

     The exhaustion was moving slowly through your brain. Like a wave of rain approaching, inevitably, from over distant hills. The hush of it was building, but it wasn't overwhelming like you'd worried. It was quiet, gentle.

     You stared up at the stars. There were so many stars, and they were so beautiful. You laid back in the grass, still holding the hands of Sun and Moon tightly. You were so very tired. You looked up to the sky, the faces of Sun and Moon looking down at you, the great cosmos beyond.

     Then, the exhaustion, that rain, finally fell over you. You fell asleep.

     You did not wake up.

~~~

     "If we'd known that Star would die from the beginning… would you have still wanted to go through with it?"

     "…If we didn't, Star never would have been at all. Is that worse than loosing them?"

     "I think so," Sun said.

     Moon had to agree. "That's why we're doing this."

     There was a corpse between them. Neither of them could bear to look at it for more than a moment. Instead, they worked around it, getting everything set up, hands careful and purposeful. Eight hands between them, working in tandem. They were almost ready.

     "…What if this doesn't work?" Moon asked.

     "Then we try again. We keep working until it does work," Sun said.

     "We don't have endless time. We can slow the rate of decay but there's nothing we can do to fully stop it," Moon pointed out.

     "It'll work," Sun insisted. There was a tremor in their hands, which they quickly got under control. "It'll work."

     Soon, they were ready.

     The storm outside raged heavily enough to be heard even down in the lab. Rain fell like intrusive static, like the goal of it was to pound clear through the earth and break into the lab, wash away their hard work. There was no force strong enough to put a stop to their efforts, though.

     Sun and Moon stood at the ready on either side of the table. They'd both hooked up their energy output cords to the device they'd built, the one that was now sitting in the chest of the body between them. All that was left was to activate the device with a large charge from their cords.

     They would know at once if it had worked. Just a moment, and then… and then everything would be okay again. That was the goal, anyways.

     Moon looked up from Star's body. They locked eyes with Sun. Sun nodded, unwilling to wait any longer.

     Simultaneously, they activated their cables, flooding the device in Star's chest with electric energy.

~~~

     There weren't words, at least not at first. Experiences were as indescribable as they were all encompassing. They didn't know what was happening, but they sure didn't like it, whatever it was.

     Things did not start making sense.

     In fact, the more time Star had to gather their thoughts, regain things they'd learned, things they had yet to learn, the more they were certain of one thing.

     Something was very wrong.

     Their limbs finally stopped convulsing with electricity. They felt too heavy to move, like the bones had been replaced with lead. There was an ache in their chest, though it was very dull, distant like a memory. Breathe. Star needed to breathe, they reminded themself. They forced their lungs to cooperate, drawing in a long and slow breath. They cracked their eyes open, searching for answers.

     There were two beings here in the room with them. It took them a moment, but the information came to them. It was muddled and mixed with the horrible mess of everything else, but Star clung to it and focused on it. Sun and Moon. That’s who they were. They were… important. Special.

     They were crying, both of them. That wasn't right… that was muddling things up in Star's brain even further. Why were they crying?? They shouldn't be crying.

     Star needed to stop it, whatever it was making them cry. They sat up, forcing their muscles to comply, heavy arms dragging along as they rose. Before they could do anything else, Sun moved. They hit Star like a wall, squeezing them in a tight hug that forced out all the breath they'd just gone through the trouble to take in.

     Moon grabbed Star's hand with two of theirs, Star's fingers cold against warm metal. Moon's other two hands trembled as they braced against the table Star was sitting on.

     Sun was rambling quietly to themself. "It worked, it worked, I knew it would it had to, it worked, you're here, you're alive."

     Alive.

     Star wasn't so sure.

     "How do you feel, Star? Are you in any pain?" Sun asked, pulling back from the hug just enough to look them over.

     Pain… Star wasn't sure. That ache in their chest was back already. Time to breathe again. They pulled air in, pushed it back out, then back in again. It was hard to focus on, there was so much going on in their brain.

     "…Star?" Sun's expression fell into concern.

     Star needed to figure out communication again. As if it hadn't been hard enough the first time.

     The first time… they were remembering things now, though not just their memories. Memories from other people, the ghosts in their brain. These memories were very hazy and difficult to understand, but loaded with information regardless. There was so much, too much information. Knowledge that wasn't theirs, knowledge that was. Memories belonging to someone else. Memories that… hm. Were any of these memories theirs?

     Sun and Moon were moving again. Checking diagnostics, running tests. The space gave Star the opportunity to discover the mechanism sitting heavy in their chest. There were cords coming out of it, thick cables running to Sun and Moon, smaller wires hooked up to nearby machines. Star tapped at the metal. They could feel the vibrations of the tap in their skin where skin met metal. It was weird, uncomfortable.

     Star's vision was starting to darken for some reason. That ache in their chest was pounding now. They still needed to breathe. Star forcefully pushed air in and out, and the darkening haze around the edges of their vision faded. The ache faded as well, slowly, as they focused for a moment on just breathing. In and out, each breath a laborious task, though it was gradually becoming easier.

     "Sun, double check this for me," Moon asked quietly, their tone low.

     Sun looked over the readings Moon was staring at. Sun read them over again. They looked up at Star, then back down.

     "But… they're clearly alive. Look at them, sitting up and breathing!" Sun scowled down at the machine, like they had half a mind to turn it into rubble like they had the scan chair.

     "I know. But these readings… There must be something wrong with the machine. Everything here is saying… they’re dead."

     Dead.

     Ah, Star thought. That's more like it.

[fussyalma]

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘚𝘪𝘹 · 𝘎𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘉𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳

𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 2

𝗚𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗯𝗲𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗼𝗿.

It took on a new meaning with her.

It meant being a good girl for her. It meant submitting myself to her whims and desires. Inside and out of the sheets.

She was building a slow burning, steady, and sturdy devotion. A devotion that would be tested. A devotion that would see loyalty beyond reason.

All in the name of earning the praise to be good enough. To be sufficient. All in the name of good behavior.

It would be that very devotion that would change me. Encourage me into who I am today. It was her that drew out the darkness she could see coiled within me. Coaxed into the forefront of my person with each whispered praise and tender kiss.

Some might mistakenly say that Kamille made me who I am today.

But that’s not entirely true.

She simply angled the light into my shadowed corners so that I could see myself for who I truly am. She brought forth the truth of my desires and inhibitions.

She revealed who I always was, deep inside.

She was everything I had ever wanted and for a year inside those walls, I worshipped her. I did anything and everything that she asked of me. I began helping her with 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴. Moving contraband and paying off guards.

𝗚𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗯𝗲𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗼𝗿.

The concept was out the window now. My loyalty to Kamille was unmatched. Proven with risk after escalated risk… until one day.

“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘫𝘰𝘣 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭…”

“Oh god. What have I done?”

Blood covered my hands… dripping onto the concrete floor…

ᴅɪɴɢ ᴅɪɴɢ ᴅɪɴɢ ᴅɪɴɢ

My Apple Watch vibrates and a pinging sound wakes me from the nightmare. The memory. The reminiscent image a crimson soaked blade clattering to my feet fades behind my eyelids as I sit up in bed.

I had forgotten to take the band off while I slept and a notification had sounded, warning me of a spiked increase in my heartrate. I can feel it now, thundering behind the cell bars of my ribcage as Petra and Archie glance up from Troy’s side of the bed. Both of the pups snuggled together and after a minute of me resting back against the headboard to catch my breath, they lay their heads down to go back to sleep.

My swiping away of the notification on the little screen tells me that it’s 3am. It would be noon in Greece. Troy would be in the middle of lunch meetings or coffee with someone.

The thought of him, his broad hand wrapped around a flimsy paper cup, brow furrowed in concentration while he hooked a finger into the noose of his tie, makes me ache.

Rubbing my palms over my face, realizing suddenly just how dry my mouth is, I swing my legs out of bed and pad barefoot into the wide penthouse kitchen. The lights of the city shine in through the large windows and reflect off of the stainless steel appliances.

After filling a glass of water from the port in the fridge, I sip generously, the ice cold liquid soothing a parched throat, raspy from the heavy breathing that accompanies nightmares. I can still see my hands, dripping in blood and I’m unsure if I’m drawing the image from my memory or my dream.

Suddenly, I freeze.

I’m not alone.

Slow, steady footsteps are making their way towards the kitchen.

I move silently but swiftly, setting my half full glass down and grabbing a chef’s knife from the knife block on the counter. Turning around, I clutch the knife at my side, holding my breath as the footsteps grow closer.

Thud… thud… thud… thud…

She’s here. She’s found me.

She’s in the penthouse.

Thud.. thud… thud… thud…

The footsteps round the corner, the perpetrator entering the kitchen …

But it’s just Archie.

He gazes up at me with tired eyes, pausing only briefly before thump thump thumping over to get some water himself from the shared bowl on the floor nearby.

Oh god.

What is wrong with me.

The knife is replaced into the block with a trembling hand as I try not to laugh, humiliated at my own foolishness.

So tense. Terrified.

I need to get out of here.

She hasn’t tried to contact me since I took up residence here. The security is insane. But I know it’s only a matter of time before she finds a way.

I can’t stay here. Alone, and paranoid.

Before he had left, Troy and I had talked about me going to Greece with him. He was concerned about the stalking, he could see the fear in me, but I couldn’t just leave work with no notice. I was due to fly over in two weeks to meet him at the tail end of his business trip.

But I can’t stay here any longer. Alone and paranoid. So, I’ll go now. Surprise him. Work has had a two week notice of my vacation, they’ll manage.

Troy will be busy for the rest of the month, no doubt, but that’s fine. I can explore the country alone during the day and we can explore together at night.

But most importantly. I’ll be with him. Near him.

The one place I’ve felt the most safe in my entire life… beneath the weight of his arm.

[biographygen]

Dwayne Johnson: Biography, Early Life, Net Worth, Carrer and Relationship

Full NameDwayne Douglas JohnsonNet Worth$800 MillionDate Of BirthMay 2, 1972Age52 yearsHeight and WeightHeight  6 feet 5 inches , Weight 118 kgWifeLauren Hashian

Dwayne Johnson Biography

Born on May 2, 1972, Dwayne Douglas Johnson, better known by his ring name, the Rock, is an American businessman, actor, and professional wrestler. He is a former member of The Bloodline and is signed to the WWE, where he does part-time work. Johnson played a crucial role in the growth and success of the World Wrestling Federation (WWF, now known as WWE). He spent eight years as a full-time WWF wrestler before turning to acting. Having made over $3.5 billion in North America and over $10.5 billion globally from his films, he is among the highest-paid and highest-grossing actors in the world. Although he was on the 1991 national championship squad, Johnson mostly served as a backup. Despite his desire to play professional football, he was not selected in the 1995 NFL Draft. He signed a short-term contract with the Calgary Stampeders but was released after his rookie season. Johnson's use of a charming trash talker shtick helped him gain international notoriety very quickly. Following his 2004 departure from the WWE, Johnson made a few appearances until 2013 when he departed the company again. Johnson retired from the WWE in 2019. ten-time global champion, the first African one in the promotion's history Johnson made his screen debut in 2001's The Mummy Returns. He portrayed his first major role in the action fantasy movie The Scorpion King the following year. Since then, he has starred in the action films Journey 2: The Mysterious Island (2012), G.I. Joe: Retaliation (2013), Hercules (2014), Skyscraper (2018), San Andreas (2015), Rampage (2018), and the family films The Game Plan (2007), Race to Witch Mountain (2009), Tooth Fairy (2010), Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle (2017), Jumanji: The Next Level (2019), and Jungle Cruise (2021). In addition, he acted in the action comedies Red Notice (2021), Baywatch (2017), Get Smart (2008), and Central Intelligence (2016). His portrayal of Luke Hobbs in the Fast & Furious movies, starting with Fast Five (2011), contributed to the success of the franchise.

Dwayne Johnson’s Early Life

The son of Mataniufeagaimaleata "Ata" Fitisemanu (née Maivia) and former professional wrestler Rocky Johnson (born Wayde Douglas Bowles), Johnson was born in Hayward, California, on May 2, 1972. Before moving back to the United States, he spent a brief period of time growing up with his mother's family in Grey Lynn, Auckland, New Zealand, where he played rugby and went to Richmond Road Primary School. Johnson's mother is Samoan, while his father was a Black Nova Scotian. In 1983, Tony Atlas and his father became the first-ever black tag team champions in WWE history. His mother is the adopted daughter of professional wrestler Peter Maivia. Following her husband's death in 1982, Johnson's maternal grandmother Lia took over Polynesian Pacific Pro Wrestling and ran it until 1988, making her one of the first female pro wrestler promoters.Johnson is the Anoaʻi wrestling family's non-blood related through his maternal grandpa Maivia.He was the one who admitted his grandfather and father into the WWE Hall of Fame in 2008. Following his move to Hamden, Connecticut, Johnson attended Shepherd Glen Elementary School before transferring to Hamden Middle School. Johnson had previously attended Montclaire Elementary School in Charlotte, North Carolina. Prior to attending Glencliff High School and McGavock High School in Nashville, Tennessee, and Freedom High School in Bethlehem Township, Pennsylvania, in the state's Lehigh Valley, he attended President William McKinley High School in Honolulu.

Dwayne Johnson’s Net Worth

Net Worth: From acting, endorsements, and business endeavors, more than $1.6 billion. Acting career: more than 45 films, including popular series such as Fast & Furious. Teremana Tequila: With a $1 billion market value, owns 30–40% of the company. Charity: Started the Dwayne Johnson Foundation and made donations to many charities. Real estate: has assets valued at more than $28.7 million. Three Amusing "The Rock" Facts Football Origins: Prior to wrestling, he was a University of Miami football player. Wrestling Legacy: A ten-time heavyweight champion in the WWE, also known as "The Rock" Earnings from Social Media: Up to $1.7 million for each Instagram post. A breakdown of Dwayne Johnson's net worth "The Rock," better known as Dwayne Johnson, has a long career that includes more than 45 motion pictures, television series, and TV shows. The majority of his profits from commercial endeavors and endorsements, in addition to his numerous jobs, are made public. An summary of the main assets that make up his net worth is provided here.

Dwayne Johnson Career

Image Credit- Kevin Winter/Getty Images Acting Career - Following a prosperous career in professional wrestling, Johnson made the decision to make the move to the big screen, and he achieved remarkable success very quickly. As soon as he began shooting, he rose to prominence as one of the world's highest-paid performers. In 2020, Forbes listed him as the highest-paid actor. The Rock made $124 million from acting alone in just 2018 alone. Following his mention on Forbes, Johnson shared on social media, saying, "I work incredibly hard but never anticipated (in my wildest dreams) I'd become the highest-paid actor in Forbes's history." "My business attitude and acumen have been developed over time and via failure; I do not hold a Harvard MBA. When I started wrestling for forty dollars a match at flea fairs, my aim was to The well-known actor has acted in fifteen television series and more than forty-five films to date. Here are a some of his most well-known film roles: In 2001, "The Mummy Returns" (as The Scorpion King) "The Rundown" as Beck in 2003 2005's "Be Cool" as Elliot Wilhelm 2010's "The Other Guys" with Christopher Danson Hank Parsons in "Journey 2: The Mysterious Island" (2012) Detective James Ransome in "Empire State" (2013) 2014's "Hercules" as Hercules Ray Gaines in "San Andreas" (2015) "Moana" in 2016 as maui The Jungle" (2017) and Dr. Smolder Bravestone in "Jumanji: The Next Level" (2019) 2018's "Skyscraper" starring Will Sawyer Rusty in "Red Notice" in 2021 "Black Adam" as Black Adam in 2022 "Red One" as Callum Drift in 2023 Although the exact amount he has made from each film in which he has starred is unknown, enough information about some of his acting endeavors is available to the public to make a reliable estimate. Johnson received $5.5 million to act in the 2001 film "The Scorpion King." In 2003, he was paid $12.5 million for his part in "The Rundown." He received an incredible $15 million for his performance in "Walking Tall" in 2004 Business Career - RedBird Capital Partners was one of the partners and investors who Johnson bought the XFL from in August 2020 for a total of $15 million. Johnson revealed plans to restart the league in the spring of 2022 within months. Even though the debut was a year behind schedule, the 2023 season began on schedule. The United States Football League and the XFL declared their intention to combine into one league following a prosperous 2023 season. The United Football League (UFL) was the new name of the combined league announced on December 31, 2023. The league would launch on March 30, 2024, with eight clubs. Under XFL Properties LLC, Red Bird Capital Partners, Johnson, and Dany Garcia jointly hold 50% of the UFL.

Dwayne Johnson Relationship

Early in the 1990s, Johnson and Dany Garcia were both University of Miami students when they first crossed paths. They tied the knot on May 3, 1997. She is a producer, businesswoman, and professional bodybuilder with the International Fitness and Bodybuilding Federation. Simone, a daughter, was their only child and was born in Davie, Florida on August 14, 2001. Johnson's left side was partially tattooed with a Samoan Peʻa in 2003. During his visit to Samoa in August 2004, Malietoa Tanumafili II bestowed upon Johnson the noble title Seiuli, which translates to "the son of Malietoa" (Alo o Malietoa), in appreciation for his service to the Samoan people and his lineage from Samoan chiefs. Johnson started dating Lauren Hashian in 2007. Lauren is the daughter of Boston percussionist Sib Hashian. Johnson was filming The Game Plan when they first got together in 2006. Johnson and Hashian got married in Hawaii on August 18, 2019. Jasmine and Tiana, their two daughters, are and Los Angeles residents. In addition, they keep up a house in Southwest Ranches, Florida, and a farm in Virginia. Simone Johnson, the first-ever fourth-generation WWE wrestler, began training at the WWE Performance Center in February 2020, according to an announcement made by WWE. Johnson made her WWE contract announcement on May 16 and she later revealed that Ava Raine will be her ring name in May 2022.

Dwayne Johnson Full Biography

Full NameDwayne Douglas JohnsonNick NameDJ, The Rock, Rocky, The Great One and People ChampionBornMay 2, 1972ProfessionActor, producer, businessman,  professional wrestler, footballerPhysical & More Height Weight Height  6 feet 5 inches Weight 118 kgBody MeasurementsChest - 50 Inches Waist - 35 InchesEye ColourBrownBirthplaceHayward, California. United StatesNationalityAmericanHometownCaliforniaEducation School1. Montclaire Elementary School  2. Hamden High School 3. High school in Bethlehem, PennsylvaniaCollegeUniversity Of MiamiEducation QualifcationBachelor of General Studies and a dual major in criminology and physiology. ReligionChristianityHobbiesWorking out, Music, Fishing and MoviesFavourite FoodDonuts, Pizza & cream of rice or oatmeal with buffalo and eggs.Favourite ColorBlackFavourite MovieThe GodfatherSpouse/Wife 1. Dany Garcia  (d. 1997; div. 2007) 2. Lauren Hashian (m. 2019)Children3 Read the full article

[husbandhoshi]

bff to lovers with seokmin where you purposely grind back into his crotch to make him hard while your spooning during movie night leading to making out on his lap while giving him a hand job

can i be 🫂 anon pls hehe

tags: friends to lovers, mutual masturbation (kind of), cock worship (kind of), dry humping (kind of), wonwoo being a nerd, there is no spooning (sorry), porn mention

wc: 2k

[part 1.5] [part 2]

it's almost funny.

you wish it were funny—in fact, you'd give anything to be laughing right now.

instead, you contend with the incredibly awkward silence, punctuated by the sound of you rifling around in the popcorn bowl and seokmin's nervous, quiet laughter.

"did wonwoo say this movie had a sex scene?" you ask, lightly nudging seokmin in the ribs in futile hopes of lightening the atmosphere. the light of the screen makes his eyes glow; you're able to admire him even as you both try to emotionally recover from seeing not only full frontal nudity but also what could generously be labeled as the most artsy, beautifully lit porn you have ever seen.

right next to your best friend.

and normally, it would be funny. if you were with chan or soonyoung or minghao or literally anyone else, you know you would be laughing. instead, you're shifting around on the couch, shorts feeling a little too short, panties a little too damp, and eyes wandering a little too close to the drawstrings of seokmin's grey sweatpants.

"n-no, he didn't," seokmin laughs. "leave it up to wonwoo to watch arthouse porn with an hour long introduction." and then he pouts so you laugh, because you always laugh when he pouts, except for some reason you're feeling embarrassingly horny and the hug of seokmin's shirt to his broad chest isn't really helping your situation. when did he get so buff again?

on the couch, you're pressed together, shoulders flush and legs tangled together. it was so comfortable until it wasn't, and now your body feels all too hot, and you wonder if he can feel it radiating off of you.

"well, seokmin, it won an academy award, okay?" you tease, rolling your eyes playfully. you bump your foot against his sock-clad one.

he returns your smile, his goofy and charming. "i dunno, i think he picked the wrong crowd to recommend movies to." and seokmin's right, the both of you watch zootopia every month and enjoy cinema in the form of cat videos and vine compilations.

you notice his cheeks are flushed, but you can't tell if it's the over-saturated light of the movie (which neither of you are paying attention to, even though the sex scene is long over) or if he's feeling as warm and sticky as you. perhaps it's the awkwardness that's permeated the space between the two of you, tender like a bruise.

"i-i'm going to refill the popcorn," you say.

maybe a cold drink of water will make you feel more normal.

"oh, i'll pause it for you." ever sweet seokmin, who thinks you're still watching the movie, begins reaching for the remote.

you attempt to disentangle yourself from his limbs, but the combination of both of you trying to move results in a disastrous tumble back onto the couch, where your hand ends up brushing up against seokmin's crotch.

not only his crotch, but directly over the hardness under the cotton, and you can positively feel all the blood rushing away from your brain, where you need it most.

and then, as if to seal your fate, seokmin wrenches his eyes shut and utters the most guttural fuck you have ever heard. you think your pussy actually starts aching with how turned on you are.

"s-sorry! oh my god," seokmin stammers, chest heaving with another shaky breath. but his hips cant up to meet your hand so desperately, like he's been wanting this to happen the whole time.

seokmin, your best friend in the whole wide world, seokmin who had taught you to ride a bike, who asked you to prom when your crush didn't, who texts you good night and knows all your darkest secrets (well, almost all of them).

seokmin, who you've had a crush on for god knows how long, is hot and hard under your hands and wrapped around your finger.

"i—i can help," you finally say. you lift your hand from his lap, the realization of what's happening finally sinking in. "only...only if you want."

and, unlike anything you've ever pictured in your wildest dreams, seokmin wraps his hand (much larger than yours) around your wrist and drags your palm down on his hardness once again.

"yes, yes p-please—" and when you press down just the slightest, his eyes flutter shut. his thighs are spread wide open and his mouth hangs open in a silent moan.

you've never wanted to ravish anyone this bad in your life before.

god, he must be big, you think, and just to test your hypothesis, your pretty fingers search for the shape of his length through the layers of fabric.

"fuck," seokmin whines. "just take it all off." and you, horny and scatter-brained, fumble with the waistband long enough for him to come to. "is this ok? are you ok with this? you're my best friend and—" he sucks in a deep breath as you yank his sweats down to his knees. "—and i don't wanna, wanna ruin our friendship."

"you idiot." the pet name, usually familiar, makes seokmin keen, hips searching for your hand again. "i've always liked you." then a tug of his boxers to reveal his cock, hard and heavy.

you almost moan aloud when your hand wraps around it, fuck, he is big, and you so badly want to to lick off the pearl of precum at the tip. he whimpers at the mere contact, overwhelmed by your sudden confession and the way your thumb is now stroking the underside of his cock.

"a-always?" seokmin groans loudly when your hand dips down to the base of his dick and you trace a prominent vein with a careful fingertip. "f-fuck, how—how're you so good at this?"

"seokmin, it's always been you." you swipe a thumb over his swollen head, then bring the digit to your lips. seokmin's eyes widen as your lips close around your finger—god, you have no idea how many times he's dreamed of this day—and then wrench shut once again when you pump his thick length once more. "not mingyu from bio—" you twist your wrist for some added friction, and seokmin moans so loud, so prettily. "not seungkwan the barista—" a thumb over the head to spread the rest of the precum over his heated skin. "just you."

seokmin takes yet another shaky breath and places a gentle hand over your wrist, shuddering when you tighten your grip on his cock slightly. "n-not even vernon?"

you shake your head and you don't even need to move your hand at all for seokmin to whine airily again, needy hips stuttering into your fist.

"fuck, f-fuck," he groans. "should've said something earlier. years ago."

you start stroking him again, petting that spot on the ridge of his cockhead that makes him throw his head back and moan.

"a-always," he breathes. "always thought you liked someone else." you trail your fingertips up his length just to see him shudder in pleasure again.

it fills you with a certain possessiveness, the knowledge that you know his heart, all his ins and outs, and now he's letting you map his body out, every inch, with your hands. you push up the hem of his sweatshirt to skim your fingers over his hard abs, watching his now neglected cock twitch at the mere contact.

"no time better than the present," you reply coyly. "now lemme make you feel good."

you kiss his belly button, and he cracks a teary-eyed, tender smile.

"can i touch you?" he asks, but it comes out like a beg. you're about to shush him and give him the best orgasm of his life when he puts his own hand, warm and desperate, on your inner thigh. "please?"

it's daring and reminds you of how much he wants you. you recall the time he zipped up your prom dress, fingers unsteady, or the times you've showered at his place and forgotten a towel, resulting in seokmin running in, white towel wrapped around one hand and the other poorly shielding his curious, wandering eyes. the reverent breath he always takes when you ask him to hold down your shirt so you can take off your hoodie.

"f-fuck," you stammer. "yeah, yeah, go ahead."

your hand, stroking his dick, falters when his fingers prod at your cunt through your shorts, and an unexplainable feeling floods through your body as you realize you've soaked all the way through your panties, leaving a wet spot on your shorts.

"this," seokmin pants, "this wet for me?" he roughly presses against your pussy lips, searching for your clit. "fuck, fuck—" he positively whines when your hips kick up, and you realize your panties are definitely swimming in your arousal.

you can tell seokmin's close by the way he's now fucking into your fist and blindly rubbing the wet spot over your shorts, not lucid enough to think to pull them down. but it doesn't even matter, you're spreading your legs like some whore and slowly grinding against his thick fingers. you know his eyes are burning holes into you, memorizing how your lips part in a moan, how light, gaspy you become when he hits your clit just right.

even over the fabric, it feels so good, so much better than your own hand when you were thinking about seokmin.

"r-remind me to eat you out," seokmin moans. "god, i wanna make you cum so many times. a-already look so good fucked out like this."

your eyes almost roll to the back of your head when he says that. when the fuck did he get such a filthy mouth, but you realize you're not much better given the way he's falling apart so easily in your hand.

"next week?"

"h-how's tomorrow? when soonyoung's gonna be at his girlfriend's place," you ask, and you look over at him to see his head thrown back, wet lips in an "o".

"yeah, fuck. please."

he's so close to his high; you've already discovered he loves when you jack him off at the base and when you twist your wrist just like that. you wonder how he'd feel in your guts, in your mouth. what he'll look like under you.

but you settle for the euphoria you're feeling now. with the eager presses of his palm to your cunt, you're not far off either.

"nngh, seokmin, i—i'm close." you gasp, arching your back against the couch cushions. you place your free hand over his to guide it over where your clit would be; another rut of his palm to your cunt, and you're there, hole fluttering around nothing as you feel all the warmth soak through your underwear.

you wouldn't normally cum so fast or so loudly, but seokmin fucking your hand and whining your name certainly wasn't part of the plan, and it just takes a couple of wanton moans on your part to push seokmin over the edge too, fat cock bucking into your hand like he's never been touched before.

"god, oh fuck," he hiccups as you help him ride out his orgasm, cum sputtering onto his pretty abs. another day, you tell yourself, instead cleaning him up with some napkins from the takeout you got earlier. "you're incredible. fuck. i think i love you."

you kiss his nose, capturing his cheeks between your fingers to bring his face, still flushed, to yours. "i think i love you too," you say, and he smiles. it's ecstatic, beautiful, as you kiss his nose again.

"what the fuck are we gonna tell wonwoo about the movie?" seokmin groans, finally noticing the credits rolling in the background. "and when's soonyoung coming back?"

"please shut up and let me kiss you."

and he gladly does, and you kiss and kiss and kiss because you're best friends and you're in love and nothing, nothing else has ever felt so, so right.

[horrorstreet]

Summertime Jealousy (Part 2)

Request: Very sorry if this already went through but I think I might have deleted some of my last request. It was jealous Thomas Hewitt cause his crush (female or GN) os being nice to one of the victims. Maybe some angst into fluff as his crush finds they like Thomas too. Again sorry if it already went through.

Request sent in by: Anon

Summary: Its Summertime in Texas but work doesn’t stop for the heat. You and Thomas head to work but after the end of your shifts, you are met with a slight problem that is easily resolved.

Thomas Hewitt x Reader

Warnings: Angst, death, serious gore, guns, SMUT

Quick Note: Stay with me, please. First time writing this for y'all. Enjoy !

If you haven't already, read PART 1

The dinner table was quiet that night. The light clinking of the spoons against the glass bowls was the only sound filling the air. You looked over at Thomas, a giddy feeling stirring in your chest. You had to make yourself quickly look away before embarrassing yourself in front of everyone.

It was rare for the dinner table to be quiet. If Thomas could say something, he might have but the silence was a little intimidating knowing how short of a fuse the others had... Which is where you came in.

"So, Thomas," you began, putting your spoon down and wiping your hands on the napkin in your lap. "How was work today?" You asked, looking over at him. The man looked up from his own bowl in front of him and glanced around at the rest of the table before nodding, giving you a grunt in response.

"That's good." You smiled, tapping your fingers against the wood of the table. The silence continued after that, not even you feeling comfortable enough to fill it. Looking over at Luda Mae, you lifted the napkin out of your lap and sat it to the side of your cup. "Excuse me." You stood up, collecting your things and walking them into the kitchen, dropping them in the sink.

The stove top clock blinked in bright green numbers.

8:45

You peeked into the dining room and sighed seeing everyone had cleared out. You started cleaning off the table, stacking the bowls on top of the others and placed the spoons on top of the pile. You would have to clean off the cups later seeing as how most of them were still full.

Doing the dishes had to be the easiest chore in the house. Cleaning was a big task since the house was huge. Cleaning 2 floors that was constantly dirtied with blood and dirt wasn't an easy job especially with the families .... unique lifestyle. You looked over the table cloth and spotted multiple stains. Both blood droplets and spilled food covered the white cloth and you knew you were going to have to do your best to clear it out unless you wanted an earful from the rest of the family.

Stripping the table of the cloth, you waded it up in your hands and opened the back screen door, propping it open and throwing the cover on the steps. This wasn't going to be easy but you knew you could manage. You did clean Thomas's clothes after all, the apron and shirts being constantly caked in blood, dirt and other bodily fluids.

Filling your bucket with water and pouring your soaps in, you let the table cloth rest and soak before getting to work, wanting the chemicals to do their job well. You watched as bubbles would raise to the surface from the folds in the cloth and took in a long breath.

"God this is going to take for-fucking-ever." You complained, closing your eyes and lifting your head to look into the sky, the clouds orange and yellow. You enjoyed how silent it was all the time. The quiet radio played in the background from a random window in the house, probably Thomas's room and you smiled, always loving the station he would tune into. Songs from your childhood brought back those memories from years ago when Tommy and you were kids.

Running through the tall grass while chasing one another was one of your favorite things to do together. The loud giggles that escaped your mouth and his loud but struggled chuckles reached the ears of everyone else in the house, Luda watching the two of you from the window while working in the kitchen. A smile would cross her face watching the two of you have fun with one another. It wasn't that long ago that you were trying to run from him and now you were trying to catch him to play. She always found it funny how fast the both of you grew attached to one another.

The sound of loud engines snapped you out of your own head, your brows coming down over your eyes. A mean glare taking over that far away look in your eyes.

"LUDA! WE HAVE COMPANY!" You yelled from the back of the house. Abandoning the bucket of water. You quickly made your way to the front of the house to see an old van and truck sitting in your front yard, 4 guys and 2 girls around your age stepping out of both vehicles. They didn't look like they were there for directions this time. They meant business and it just so happened that you did too. "Can I asked you folks why you are here parked on my grass?" You asked, hands placed on your hips, foot digging into the dirt under your heel.

"Not until you tell us where our friends are." You stood frozen for a second, hands slightly slipping off your hips before you quickly jumped back into action. "Your friends? I'm sorry, I have no clue who you're talking about?" You played off, taking a few more steps forward. The man puffed his chest out, making himself look bigger and more intimidating... But you knew intimidating and it wasn't him.

"Oh, don't play fucking stupid, bitch." One of the girls said off to the side. You scoffed and crossed your arms across you chest, your patience growing thin. You had enough with the bunch and hoped that Hoyt would be quick grabbing the gun. No harm in having some fun until then.

"I guess you caught me. Sure are smart for some stupid city kids." You chuckled. "Well, if you must know... We invited them over for supper. Can't say they left with full stomachs but we sure did." You gave a small smile, watching as their faces twisted into looks of confusion. "The guy.. Uhh? Justin?? Yeah, Justin. We got lots of meat off those bones of his. Real juicy too."

The group weren't able to get a word in before a bullet traveled its way through the brunettes head in the back of the small crowd. The crimson drops splattered across your face, painting you red. The thud of his limbs hitting the ground made the girls jump.

"WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT THE FUCK!" The 2nd blonde yelled, his friends lifeless hand draped across his foot. Another shot rang through the air, grazing the blondes ear. His hand quickly shot up to cover his head, instinctively dropping to the ground and shielding himself. This time, the girls scattered, both trying desperately to get in their cars and drive off.

"How impolite do you little shits have to be to park on another mans fucking lawn?" Hoyt sneered, aiming his gun in the face of the last standing intruder. You closed your eyes, hearing the second thud of a body hit the ground and feeling those familiar droplets run down your face and over your eyes, just dripping off of your brow. The blonde on the ground struggled to get up and run, heading right for the house. You sprinted after him, your fingers hooking around his nose but slipping off. With blood coating your hand you, you tried grabbing the back of his shirt, leaving a bloody handprint on the fabric but he once again slipped away, making you even more frustrated.

The spinning of tires behind you made you gasp. The girls had made it into the car, Hoyt on the ground and his gun across the dirt road. He was groaning in pain, telling you he was still alive and you could focus on yourself. The car was speeding closer and closer towards you, the girl in the passenger seat hanging onto the handle of the car for dear life and the other gripping the wheel till her knuckles turned white.

You would have been roadkill if you had moved just a second slower. You jumped to your feet and watched as Thomas quickly ran out of the door with a large hand around the boys neck, his body limp and the blondes face purple. You were at the driver side door quicker than the girls had though, your hand ripping the door open and dragging the red head out by her hair. She let out the most blood curdling scream you had heard in a while and you frowned, wanting her to shut up. Kicking her in the mouth, you knew you had broken a few of those pretty pearly whites and sighed in annoyance. You continued sending your foot towards her face, the screaming becoming more and more muffled by the blood building up in her mouth.

You stopped when her friend pulled you off of her. Her arm snaked around your neck, squeezing as hard as she could. Bloody hands flew up to claw at the girls skin, trying to create space to catch some air. The same girl let out the same terrified scream being lifted into the air by her dark hair, Thomas standing above her with the coldest look in his eyes. He was mad.. and a mad Thomas was a dangerous man. Hell... you were fucken nervous.

The man would have finished the job himself if a final bullet hadn't put an end to the entire situation instead. Hoyt stood with the gun still aimed just incase he needed to take another shot. The only sound left to torture your ears was the loud ringing from the shot of the gun by your head. Other than that, all was quiet aside from the heavy breathing of the 3 of you. Tommy dropped the body in his hand and held a hand out to you, your wrapping around his before being pulled to your feet.

You passed the living room after coming back upstairs from helping Tommy slice up the fresh meat and store it away in the houses freezers. Hoyt was sat on the couch in front of the tv cleaning his gun with a stern look on his face.

Thomas slid the basement door closed, the metal clanging against the lock and making you jump. You were still all covered in blood by the time you had got done helping Thomas and didn't want to hop in the shower to leave some warm water for your beloved boyfriend. You had almost bumped right into the mans chest trying to go back down to tell him to finish up and come shower but he beat you to it, his beautiful eyes staring down at you overtop of his mask that covered his mouth and nose.

"Hey, Tommy. I was just about to tell you to go hop in the shower before we head to bed." You explained to him, looking up at him with a bloody lipped smile that made him twitch. It made him squirm. The way you looked standing infront of him like that. There were still some spots of blood that had yet to dry and your clothes were semi-drenched from how you tried rubbing the stain out of your favorite t-shirt. He could just barely see through but it was more than enough to get his mind running laps.

"Thomas," You waved your hand in front of his face to grab his attention. Little did you know you already it. "Shower? Thomas?" Your brows furrowed together in confusion at his lack of attention to your words. The look in his eyes was a little animalistic and you had to admit, it turned you on a lot more than it should have. Your underwear was suddenly flooded at the thought of what was going on behind those sharp eyes you loved so much. You two seemed to be on the same page in that sense.

"Come on, love. Let's get you cleaned up, huh?" You smiled up at him with a certain look, pupils blown in lust that Thomas mirrored perfectly. He gave a quiet grunt and followed you, your calloused hand slipping into his own on instinct before you began to pull him up the stairs. "I'll help." You glanced over your shoulder for a short second to catch how your boyfriend looked just about ready to eat you up. When he was sure no one was looking, the man took his hand away from the railing as he continued up, almost to the top, and ran two fingers quickly over that hot, sticky spot between your thighs that was practically calling his name.

The feeling made you jump and a gasp escaped your throat. Boy, did that put a pep in your step and you quickly skipped the last step before letting go of the mans hand and speed walking to his bedroom. The bed was bigger to accommodate his large build so it was the obvious choice for your upcoming activites over your smaller bed.

Thomas closed and locked the door to his bedroom as he entered to keep out any unwanted guests before turning his undivided attention to you. He had done this with you once before but for some reason he still couldn't shake that nervous, butterflies in the gut kind of feeling whenever he imaged taking another step forward to make the first move. You had the same gut feeling twisting around inside of your stomach with the addition of your heart rapidly beating through your chest. Your could feel your teeth buzz and your hands tremble a little, no words said in fear your wobbling voice would give away just how nervous you were and how much you absolutely craved the man before you all in one swoop.

The floorboards creaked beneath his weight as he took a few steps forward until he was only a few inches away from you. Your head angled up to look at him but his eyes were focused on your hands that he gently grabbed, cupping them and bringing them up to his face behind his head. He wanted you to be the one to take his mask off. So, your hands worked swiftly but with care, fingers slipping under the leather strap buckle till it finally loosened up and peeled away from his face. "Ok?" You questioned before pulling the mask away completely. He slightly nodded and you smiled softly before pulling it away and setting it down at the foot of the bed next to you.

His hands had managed to find their way to your hips to rest as you messed with his face covering, eyes closed. He was a little scared as to how you would react. He always was. One of his biggest fears was one day seeing a disgusted expression invade your beautiful face at the sight of his deformities and leaving his soul crushed and defeated. Instead, when he met your eyes, he saw a pure and soft warmth he had never witnessed before. Your thumb caressed his cheek, wiping away a droplet of blood and offering a comforting touch as well. "My handsome man." You muttered, that smile never leaving your soft lips. "I love you." You confessed shortly after as you leaned in to place a kiss on his lips.

When your mouths met, the kiss first melted the both of you into a puddle but it didn't take long for it to escalate into something more. Thomas's grip on your hips tightened and one of his large hands slipped under your shirt with ease, running up your body till he reached your chest. He slipped his fingers over your sensitive nipple and pinched one between his touch, pulling a moan from your mouth. It sounded so lewd and caused Thomas to open his eyes and break the heated kiss you both almost got lost in. He brought his other hand under your shirt and was now filled to the brim with a lustful eagerness feeling your warm skin under his palms. You pulled the dirty article of clothing off over your head and tossed it aside and grant your boyfriend more access.

The strain against his cock was too painful at that point. He had to have you. Thomas kicked off his shoes and unbuckled his belt while you followed and removed your pants and shoes as well, everything left on the floor and quickly forgotten. You backed yourself up against the bed and laid down on your back, propped up on your elbows to get a good view of your beautiful Thomas who was hurrying to make his way over where you lay before dropping to his knees and positioning his face between your thighs. His gaze met yours, silently asking you for permission to which you gladly nodded and watched as he licked up the damp spot on your panties. A small moan rested in your throat as he did so, flinching as his rough fingers quickly pulled the underwear down your legs and off in some random direction.

"Tommy.." You cautiously looked down at him. He came to a halt, not wanting to continue in the case that you decided you didn't want this. But, you had made up your mind and simply nodded to which he dove right in. His tongue darted back out to send a long lick up your folds, the tip of his tongue brushing against your open and ready hole. He placed a quick kiss to your clit before licking circles around the bud causing you to moan out his name.

"Fuck, Thomas ! Yes." Your head fell back and your hand grabbed a handful of the mans hair, pulling him closer. He continued his attack on your clit while 2 fingers reached up and gently slipped inside, getting a feel for how tight you were before starting to pump in and out.. and in and out faster and faster. Your juices were quick to coat his hand, the dried blood mixing with your own mess as it dripped down the back of his hand. Tommy slipped a third finger in and didn't stop thrusting into you until he felt you clench around his digits which told him it was time to pull away.

You whined and opened your eyes and see what he was doing and was pleased to see his face wet with your mess and his fingers just the same. He rose to his feet and pulled his boxers off, releasing his hard dick that throbbed with the need to be inside of you. "Thomas, fuck me, please. Fuck me." You moaned out for him to which he quickly obliged. Parting your legs farther apart, he stood in between them, cock in hand and sliding teasingly though your folds. "Please, Tommy." You whimpered to him, face twisted in a mixture of desperateness and pleasure.

How could he say no?..

The man slowly slipped into your hole, patiently filling you up as you got used to his size again. You moaned and whimpered at the feeling and soon nodded and grabbed his hand that was free, the other pressed down on your stomach. You both locked fingers as he started fucking into you and groaned in pleasure hearing the lewd squelching sounds and feeling the way your warm walls squeezed him.

The more the speed picked up, the harder the bed rocked to each thrust he made inside of you. He felt the urge to go faster, open you up good for him so he could dump his seed inside of you and fill you up. Wanted to watch the way his hot cum dropped out of your core after you came on his cock. He was blinded by the idea of fucking his own cum into you and you were too far gone to care about how much noise you two were making. It felt too good.

"Hnn ahh Thomas- I'm cu- cumming - I'm gonna cum 'm gonna cum- fuck." You moaned, eyes rolling back as his thumb worked your clit once again to bring you closer to your climax. He squeezed your hand and grit his teeth before finally reaching his own peak. The both of you were pushed over the edge and you came along with him, your juices spilling all over his dick that twitched as he released his load inside of you. His pace was uneven now and he slowed down to pound into you for the rest of your high. Thomas wanted your cunt to milk him for all he had left and some.

When he was finally done, he came to a stop but never pulled out. He liked the warm feeling of being inside of you. Liked the way you gasped and moaned from slight overstimulation everytime you tried to move. It made him want to go again .. and again and again but he had done a number on you and it was obvious that he was going to be the one helping bathe you that night.

His dick slipped back out of your hole but was quickly replaced with two large fingers that fucked the cum back into you making you moan once again and squirm where you laid. "Oh my god.." you caught your breath as he still rested his digits inside of you. "You did so good for me, baby. Such a good boy." You praised him with a grin, hands pushing his hair away from over his eyes. "My good boy." You let out a long sigh and bit your lip as your boyfriend pulled his fingers out of you.

Thomas carried you out of his bedrooms bathroom and laid you down on his bed, pulling back the covers from under your legs and taking the towel that was wrapped around your naked figure so you could rest comfortably. He threw the towel into the pile of clothes that were forgotten from earlier, his boxers now back on his body to cover him up so he wasn't parading around naked... not that you would mind.

"Thank you, honey." You smiled at the man who took such good care of you. He grunted in response and nodded his head. He picked his mask back up off the end of the bed to soak it in the sink before hopping into the shower himself so he was clean for you for the night. He didn't want you curled up on him while he was covered in filth. Thomas didn't particularly like the idea of sleeping covered in various bodily fluid either.

The night ended with Thomas pulling you into his gentle but firm hold, face pressed into your hair while your hands rested against his chest, ear laid over his heart so you could fall asleep to the soft thumping. You couldn't have imagined yourself in this position, really... You had a crush on your childhood bestfriend for years and now you two were sleeping in the same bed, cuddled up and as happy as you could both be. Nothing would be able to take this from you.. and that night, you promised yourself that if anything tried, it would be the last thing it ever did. Thomas was yours and you were his. It was the beginning of dangerous connection and lord help whoever tried to get in the way.

[starlightsearches]

Truth or Dare

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 (WIP)

Part 3 is finally here! Hopefully we all haven't forgotten about this one 😬 comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!

Klitz x femme reader

Warnings: fake dating, language, sexual references

Not thinking about Klitz has been harder than you anticipated. 

It’s not just that he was sweet enough to pay for your popcorn and drink—even though you’re the one who invited him—or the way he went still every time you pressed your face into his shoulder when the candy-red fake blood started to splash across the screen. It wasn’t just the burn in your stomach as he walked you to your door—the thought of him trying to kiss you at the front of your mind and the turmoil deciding whether or not you’d let him. It wasn’t just the sinking feeling when you’d watched him walk away after an adorably awkward hug initiated by him and the chaste kiss you’d pressed to his cheek. 

No—instead you keep thinking about the way his eyes caught the light of the movie screen behind his glasses, dark green with streaks of golden brown, and the curve of his smile. You’re thinking about his long, lean fingers gripping the back of your seat when he’d pulled out of the parking spot, about the slightest hint of muscle you could trace beneath his sleeve. And you need that gone ASAP.

Sitting in the scorching sun in Amber’s backyard, you’ve emptied your head of everything but the smell of chlorine and sunscreen and your brain’s soupy remains. You’re almost at peace. You’ve just about burned it all away.

And then there’s a splash and the shock of cold water as Tyler shoves you from off the float, and all of that peace is gone. 

You splutter when your head breaks back through the water, hair dripping stinging chlorine into your eyes.

“Ugh, seriously? You asshole!” You swing at him, barely grazing skin as he dances out of your reach.

Tyler gives you a shit-eating grin, splashing some more water in your direction. 

“What’s your deal?”

You’ve never liked Tyler. He’s one of Luke’s friends—always loud and obnoxious, taking every joke too far. Amber only let him hang around her because his parents had a hot tub in their backyard and never lock their liquor cabinet. She’s lounging on one of the daybeds now, sipping from a Starbucks iced coffee and working on her tan. You swim in that direction, lifting yourself out of the pool by the ladder and yanking your towel from one of the empty chairs. 

“Ignore her, Tyler,” she says, “she���s just mad her date last night didn’t go the way she wanted.” 

You shoot her a wide-eyed warning look, and she just smiles back, too bright. You’d purposely avoided the topic with her, hoping she might forget after a few non-committal nods and a swift change of subject. She spent most of the morning spewing bullshit theories about how he spent the night after your date, and you laughed half-heartedly, waiting for her to run out of steam.

But it doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen any time soon. 

“Oooooh, a date?” Tyler swims to the edge, jumping from the pool and you grit your teeth. The last thing you wanted was his full attention. “Did you and Luke get back together?”

“God, no,” you say, glancing at Amber one last time, hoping she might offer something since she’s the one who brought it up. She’s not even looking at you, sipping pointedly from her drink. 

You plop down on one of the chairs, adopting the most casual tone you can manage. “I went and saw a movie with that guy, uh, Tim.”

“Tim who?” Tyler’s walking on his hands across the edge of the pool. You just barely resist the urge to plant a single, solid kick to his chest. 

You sigh instead, bracing yourself. “Tim Klitz.”

He almost falls into the pool on his own, scrambling back to his feet. “Holy shit. Are you serious?” Tyler snatches the towel from your hands, throwing it over his shoulder, on his knees at your side. “You went on a date with Tim Klitz? Glasses? Bowl Cut? Oh my god, did he pay you?”

“No.” You take the towel back, maybe just to cover the heat in your cheeks, “I asked him.”

Tyler looks like you just said you really enjoy the taste of pool water. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to,”—true or not, you still say it, and whatever you say to Tyler, you say to everybody— “he sits behind me in English and he’s nice and since I’m single now . . .”

Tyler actually looks thoughtful for the first time in his life. “Damn . . . Luke’s gonna be pissed when he finds out.”

“I don’t care if Luke shits himself when he finds out—he’s not my boyfriend anymore.” 

That, at least, is true. 

The thoughtful look on Tyler's face is immediately gone, replaced with a shitty little grin. “Yeah, now you and Klitzy are gonna get it on.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s something hidden in your voice. “He’s not my boyfriend either.” 

“When are you going to see him again?” Amber finally decides to cut in, pushing her sunglasses up over her nose and into her hair.

You hadn’t thought you would see him again. The date was fine, of course . . . maybe even more than fine, but you never really expected to go out with him again, regardless of the “plan” Amber had initially outlined. One date to get Amber off your back was harmless. A second would be on the verge of cruel.

You shrug one shoulder, and fake some nonchalance. “I don’t know.” 

She flips over onto her stomach, pillowing her head on the backs of her hands. “Just call him up right now.”

“Uh, now?” you ask with an awkward laugh, sparing a glance in Tyler’s direction. You can hear the little warning signals in your brain pinging when you notice how closely he’s watching, “there are easier ways to get rid of me, you bitch.” 

“Don’t be so dramatic,” she says, “you’ve been moping all day and you obviously want to see him again, so just call him up.”

Biting the inside of your cheek is the only way you can keep yourself quiet. You hadn’t been moping all day—she’d purposely misread your silence as sulking, just because you didn’t want to make up shit she could use to get a laugh at Klitz’s expense.

You know Tyler’s still watching you, and Amber’s got a smug look on her face that says you fell right into her trap. You had no excuse to get out of it; the only plans you’d had for today were with her, and she seemed plenty willing to cancel. If you blew off this chance, Tyler would think that the date was just a lost bet or a joke. If that got back to Luke he’d brush it off, sure it was a desperate ploy to get his attention, and if it got back to Klitz . . . 

“Actually, Amber, that’s a great idea.”

You reach for your phone, walking to the shadier part of Amber’s backyard so neither of them could hear your conversation, and it does start to feel like every step you take is lifting a weight from your chest. You don’t know if that’s because it’s bringing you closer to Klitz or further from Amber and her bitchy attitude. 

The dial tone sounds in your ears—its steady, measured rhythm cut off after a few rings—but there’s no greeting from the other end of the line. Instead, the speaker is filled with fuzzy static and a chorus of quiet, overlapping voices. You recognize Klitz’s voice easily enough. The others must be Eli and Matt.

Whatever chaos is happening on the other end goes quiet. “Hello?”

“Hey, Klitz?” You do your best to ignore the little thrill that comes from hearing his voice again—his tone sweet and buzzing with nerves. 

“Uh, yeah, hey.”

“Hey, so listen,” you shift the phone in your hand, trying to shield the speaker from picking up Amber’s screams as Tyler threatens to throw her in the pool, “I’m such an idiot and I totally forgot that we have the fucking Shakespeare final on Monday, and I haven’t even started studying. I was flipping through the study guide Ms. Hurst gave us and the thought of going through it all alone was actually painful, so I was maybe wondering if you’d want to study for it together?”

“Uh, sure,” he says, voice ripe with disbelief. He must get some coaching from his friends, because he doubles down on his acceptance, “yeah, actually, that would be great.”

“Okay, awesome. Are you free right now?”

“Well, I don’t—” there’s static again on the other end of the line; you can just make out Eli’s high-pitched shouting, “I mean, yeah. I can be free.”

“Cool. Would it be okay if I came over to you?”

“Sure. I’ll see you . . . soon.”

Klitz is just lucky he’s a fairly neat person.

He’d raced here from Eli’s house, taking the stairs to his room two at a time. Grabbing fistfuls of clothes off the floor came first—shoving basketball shorts he used as pajamas and a few suspiciously stiff t-shirts into his laundry hamper before forcing it inside the closet. He’d taken out the trash by his bedside next, hidden the tissues and lotion in his night stand. The Victoria’s Secret magazines he’d stolen from the mail before his mom could notice went in the shoe box underneath his bed—just in time for your knock on the door.

Klitz has never run this much in his life. Bounding down the stairs, he manages to reach the door before his mom could call out, or god forbid, get it herself.

He finds you standing on his porch, looking like a punch to the gut.

You’ve got so much skin—still glistening from the time you’ve spent in the sun—bare thighs stretching from the hem of your shorts, the deep v-neck of your t-shirt exposing the cups of your black bikini top and the plush skin of your tits. You’ve tied the strings at the back of your neck in a sweet little bow, and he fights the itch in his fingers to reach for one of those strings and pull.

He isn’t going to need those magazines any time soon . . .

Klitz pulls his eyes back to your face with some superhuman effort, feeling his cheeks go red. You’re smiling at him, scuffing the tip of your flip flop against the welcome mat. 

“Hi.” There’s no way you didn’t notice him staring, but the giggle in your greeting tells him that you didn’t necessarily mind.

“Hey,”—he overcompensates, regardless, looking anywhere but you as he steps out of the doorway, “uh, come in.” 

“Thanks. I hope I don’t smell like chlorine; I was just at Amber’s pool when I remembered the test and I didn’t want to drive all the way home to change when you’re so close by.” 

“That’s okay.” He should be thanking you, really, but all he can think about is popping the button on your shorts, shimmying the denim down over your thighs, running his hands under the hem of your shirt as you wrap your arms around his neck, straddling his lap . . .

You slip your sandals off and that feels like a safe place to look—white-painted toenails and the faded, woven bracelet tied loosely around your ankle. His hands would fit there so well, tasting the coconut sunscreen you’d massaged into your thighs, warm and soft. 

Klitz bites down hard enough on the inside of his cheek to taste blood. 

“So should we—”

“Oh yeah,”—shit, you’ve got this wicked spark in your eyes when he looks at you. Now you’d think he has a weird thing for feet— “uh, my room is just—”

“Tim, honey, who’s at the door?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

His mom peers her head around the corner from the kitchen, flour in her pale brown hair and covering the front of the old Winnie the Pooh apron he bought for her a few Mother’s days back. 

Her face lights up when she sees you—Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree bright, smiling so wide he almost expects to see tears in her eyes.

“Tim,” she says, practically breathless with surprise, “I didn’t know you were having a friend over.”

God, she looks stunned—wide-eyed—turning to Klitz for an explanation that he can’t offer except that maybe you’re performing some kind of community service.

He wonders when he’ll get past this—if people will ever stop staring when they see you with him, if he’ll ever be able to see one of those looks without going no, really, she’s mine. He wonders if he could ever believe it himself.

“Hi, Mrs. Klitz,” you turn on the charm immediately—to your credit—offering your name with a friendly wave, and his mom just gushes, telling you to call her Janey, reaching for you with open arms and the gentle warning that I’m a hugger. He wants to disappear into the floor.

It’s not like Klitz is embarrassed by his mom—they’ve always been close, especially since it’s been just the two of them after Stacey left for Harvard a couple years ago—but he had hoped this could have gone differently. He’d have liked to let his mom know that you were coming, first off, and maybe warned her against the hugging. 

The first time he introduced you to his mom, he’d hoped it would be as his girlfriend.

It’s stupid, and naive, but still . . . 

You’re going on about AP lit, your plans for after graduation and all the colleges you applied for, and his mom is just eating it up, like she’s about to suggest you ditch her son to spend the afternoon with her, and the way you talk sounds like you might take her up on the offer.

“Anyways,” Klitz jumps in before that could happen, “we should probably get started on studying.” 

To her credit, his mom reads the look he gives her loud and clear. “Right, right—of course. Have fun!”

“Will do,” you answer, offering his mom one last smile, “it was nice meeting you, Janey.” 

She heads back into the kitchen with a flattered giggle, and you climb the stairs only a few steps behind Klitz, following him into his room. He presses the door shut behind him with a soft click, wondering if you, too, can only hear the sound of his breathing.

He’s never had a girl over before, not in his house, and definitely not in his room. He watches you take in the space with an inscrutable expression, and he desperately wants to know what you’re thinking, wants an itemized list of every reaction you’re having to his space and what caused it. The Star Wars posters, the plain blue bedspread his mom got him from Target—he needs to know what it’s telling you about him, and he needs to know if you like it.

“Your mom is sweet,” you say, sitting down on the edge of his mattress with a chorus of squeaky springs. He presses his sweaty palms against his slacks, trying to look in your eyes and not at your crossed legs.

You came over to study, he reminds himself, to study.

“Uh, yeah,” he coughs, “yeah, she is.” He takes a step towards the desk chair, but his ears are ringing, filled with the sound of Eli’s voice calling him a pussy, and in an uncharacteristically brave move, he falls to the bed beside you.

And you don’t say a word about it, leaning back on your elbows like you hang out on his bed together every day of your life. 

“So . . .  do you have the study guide?”

And it’s all . . . easier than he thought it would be. There’s no awkward silence, no fumbling from his end—he even manages to make you laugh a few times, bringing up some mildly-funny incidents that had happened in class, almost like the two of you have inside jokes.

It’s strange that in all his day-dreams, sitting behind you in class, wondering what it would feel like to have you notice him, to spend any amount of time with you, he never thought it could be so . . . comfortable.

The study guide is limp in his hands, flipped to the last page. It had only taken around an hour to cover all of the material, but you haven’t even hinted that you might want to leave, resting on your hip with your head cupped in one hand, nose scrunched up in laughter at something he’d just said.

It would be too easy for him to kiss you like this. You’re not that far from where he sits with his legs crossed—he could span the distance by just bending at the waist, could shift onto his stomach if you pulled him in closer, could rest his weight on top of you and bury you against his mattress.

“Klitz?”

There’s nothing he can do to stop himself from blushing. “Sorry, what’d you say?”

You haven’t stopped smiling at him. It’s kind of freaking him out. “I just wanted to know if you have an idea for the essay question?”

“Oh, I dunno,” Klitz shrugs, “I was thinking maybe one of the sonnets. What about you?”

“Probably Romeo and Juliet.”

He can’t help but make a face. “Really?”

You bring your brows together. “You didn’t like it? That one was my favorite.”

Klitz knew that already. He knew because you’d mentioned it when you volunteered to read for Juliet, and he remembered because he thought about volunteering for Romeo’s part—maybe hoping that some of your love for the play would rub off on him. He’d chickened out, though, spent the class listening to some other guy tell you you looked like the sun when he didn’t even know what that meant. So maybe the play is a little sour in his mind.

“I just—” he sighs, “I mean it’s really sad, right? They both, you know, die, and it’s not like they were actually in love with each other or whatever. They only knew each other for like a couple weeks, and they were both kids . . .”

“That’s what I like about it,” —you’ve shifted towards him, leaning on both elbows so you can look him in the eye. From this angle, he could glance down the front of your top if he wanted, might even be quick enough that you wouldn’t notice, excited as you are, but his gaze is trapped in yours— “maybe they’re not in love with each other—but they’re in love with the idea of love. That’s what makes them break the boundaries. It was the only thing strong enough to end the feud between their parents. It’s a tragedy, but it’s also about the ways love can save us.” 

Klitz hums. It’s weird hearing you talk about something he’s had the barest experience with. He knows he loves his mom and his sister, and he loves his friends—even though they’re kind of dorks—but that’s not the kind of love you’re talking about. You’re talking about the kind of love that makes his palms sweat and his glasses fog at the edges. 

“Have- do you think you’ve ever been in love?” He swallows, knowing you must be thinking about Luke. The study guide has turned a darker blue where he grips it. 

“I don’t know . . . I guess not; if you’re in love you’d probably have to know it. Have you?”

He drops his eyes from yours, maybe so you won’t see how thrilled he is by your answer. “No.”

“Hmmmm. Well, when it happens,”—there’s the soft shifting sound of the comforter beneath you as you slide your hips forward— “you’ll have to tell me about it.”

You’re so close, and it’s a kind of close you’ve chosen, bright eyes on his before they wander down the slope of his nose, over his rounded cheeks, landing on his lips. Klitz swallows harshly because he knows what that means and he’s still so fucking afraid, heart on its way out of his chest, stomach roiling like he’s gonna puke the organ right out his mouth and hold it still-beating in his open hands.

“Oh.”

You rip away from him just as he was about to push forward, and he turns instead to the now-open door, his mom standing there with her hand still on the door knob and her mouth shaped into a surprised little o.

“Mom.” Jesus Christ, he wants to kill himself. Out of all the times she could forget to knock.

“Sorry honey,” she laughs, rapping her knuckles lightly against the door, way too late, “I just wanted to let you know that there’s cookies out of the oven, if you wanted to come down and get some, or I could bring them up—”

“You don’t have to do that, Janey,” you cut in casually, calm where Klitz is flustered, “we can come grab them.”

“Okay, perfect. Well, I don’t want to interrupt your studying, so I’ll just, um, I’ll just go now.” She steps back through the gap in the door, leaving it conspicuously open behind her.

That gap is mirrored between the two of you; Klitz doesn’t know how to get that closeness back.

He clears his throat, and decides to start with something easy, sliding his hand across the mattress until his pinky just brushes against yours. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” you’re trying to smile at him, but it doesn’t reach your eyes, “it’s just—”

He’s waiting for it. Waiting for you to say I think we should just be friends. 

But those aren’t the words that come out of your mouth. “I really like you, Klitz, but I just got out of a really long and kind of messed up relationship. I’d need to . . . take it slow.”

You press your hand on top of his, squeezing a little at his fingers.  

“Slow?” Klitz asks, little rivulets of hope streaming through his chest. It’s not what he wants, but it’s something.

“Is that okay?” 

You catch your lip in between your teeth, watching him with apprehensive eyes. Klitz just nods. He wonders whether a kiss would fall within the bounds of taking it slow. 

There’s no chance for him to find out; you stand, bouncing a little on the balls of your feet.

“Are you hungry? I’m fucking starving. Let’s go get something to eat.”