dema-heart

[dema-heart]

slip chain necklaces

Hobie x gn! reader

Smooches

chain pulling

flustering and flirting

AMAZING banners by @the-shroom-garden

Event hosted by @the-kr8tor go check out her page!

“Welcome to…Hobie!?” you perk up behind the counter as he strolls through the door music shop you worked at. 

“Hey luv. Thought I'd stop by to see if you were busy.” He stopped in the middle of the store, eyes scanning the records and CDs there before he looked up chuckling when he saw you were already making your way from behind the counter. His eyes landed on the slip necklace on your neck, the one he’d given you recently after he'd broken one of his chain necklaces and taken the opportunity to add a lock to one end. 

“Totally busy. As you can tell by the large amounts of customers in the store.” you grinned as you gestured around the empty shop. You came to a stop in front of him, the tips of your shoes touching as you smiled at each other. You watched as he took you in, eyes roaming you from head to toe, your hand came up twisting the chain of your necklace around your fingers to distract you from the heat building in your cheeks from his gaze. 

“I see you like the necklace.” he teased a smirk on his lips as mischief shone in his eyes. Hobie watched you drop the necklace with a soft chuckle. His hand came up grabbing the chain. He let it slide through his fingers humming in thought as your eyes watched his hands. Your breath hitched, not considering before the other…uses for the necklace he’d made you.

“Y-yeah reminds me of you…and gives me something to keep my fingers busy when I get bored or uh anxious.” your voice cracked at the start causing you to clear your throat as you looked away from the chain in his hands. He was still trailing his fingers up the chain before letting it slide through his palm. It gently tapped against your chest in what would have been a comforting rhythm if not for how hyper aware you currently were of hobie's presence. 

He'd said something else that you missed. Trying to calm your racing heart and jittery body before he noticed. You turned your head towards one of the posters on the wall taking in the dates of an old rock band. You counted to ten making it to four before the chain on your neck was tugged. You snapped your head back to look at hobie wide eyed as you looked from the chain he now held from about chest height causing it to tighten slightly against your throat.

You never thought you'd find yourself in a scene like this. You'd heard of girls fixing their partners ties and tugging them down into a kiss with it before but this was different. Hobie forced your chin up by just the chain alone to make you look at him. 

“Eyes on me luv. I came all this way to see you and you're ignoring me” He rolled the chain around his finger causing it to tighten more, pulling you forward. You catch yourself by placing your hands on his waist, slipping your thumb into his belt loop as a way to hide your shaky hands. 

“Hobie!” You whisper shouted, you could feel the warmth in your cheeks as you looked around whispering as if someone was here to catch you two like this before you locked eyes with him. 

“Yes?” He whispered back, smiling cheekily as he loosened his grip on the chain. His eyes shifted from yours to your lips. You watched him suck in the corner of his lip, lip ring getting caught on his teeth before that sinfully charming grin is back. You snap your eyes back up to his, not sure when your gaze had shifted, just as he's leaning in. You close your eyes leaning in slightly as well but nothing happens and just as you're about to open your eyes you feel more than hear him chuckle, just a breath away from your lips.

“I'm gonna kiss you now. That alright with you luv?” His words fan across your lips sending tingles down your spine as you. You give a short nod leaning forward more causing your lips to brush only for him to tsk and pull back. The loosened grip on the necklace tightened just slightly causing the butterflies in your stomach to go crazier than they already were.

“Words, luv. Need to hear you want to kiss me as bad as I want to kiss you.” His tone is soft and sweet even with such sinful intent.

‘honeyed poison. Sweet as syrup and just as sticky. He's got me right where he wants me, wrapped around his finger with no escape like a bug in a web…and yet’ you sigh as your thoughts race, opening your eyes to meet his hooded teasing gaze.

“There's nothing I want more than your lips on mine right now, Hobie.” You breathe the words out pulling his waist to yours as you lean in bridging the gap before he can say anything else or try to draw this out any longer.  

He drops the chain, instead bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks. You're sure he can feel how warm they are under his palms. How stuttered your heartbeat is as you stand chest to chest. Your grip on his waist never loosened as the kiss deepened. You trace your tongue against his bottom lip, lip rings smooth against the muscle before the bell above the door chimes and you pull away. You yelled a breathy hello toward the door, grateful they only waved and kept walking towards the side sections not seeing the two of you pressed against each other in the middle of the store.

 You glance back at hobie, his hands are still in the air where he was holding your face. He looks dazed, lips shining from your kiss, pupils blown wide swallowing the normal dark brown of his eyes as he stares at you. You glance to see the customer had moved toward an aisle you knew they couldn't see you both from so you took the chance to place a quick peck to hobie’s lips before leaning your cheek against one of his still waiting palms.

”I have to get back to work now, handsome. Are you gonna wake up or do I need to kiss you again for that to work? They do say true love's kiss cures all” you smile trying to ignore the way you feel just as astonished on the inside. It's always so rare to catch him off guard it makes you feel giddy, unable to stop the teasing tone or smile on your lips.

Hobie shakes his head that boyish grin you love so much taking over his shocked expression. He leans in this time pecking your lips before kissing each of your cheeks. “Don't go getting cheeky on me now.” Fake annoyance drips from his tone, the smile on his face giving him away.

“One for one Hobart. You fluster me. I fluster you” you tease in a sing-song voice ducking from his grip when he goes to kiss you again. You laugh as he pouts before hustling up to the counter making it just in time as the customer from earlier walks up. You start checking them out looking up to see hobie waving bye as he points at his watch rolling his eyes. You try to hide your smile waving bye back with a mouthed I love you.

“I love you too! See you when you get off,luv!” He shouts as he walks out cackling at your bewildered look that quickly morphed into a sheepish grin as the customer giggles at you two.

”You two are so cute together. I took as long as I could to let you guys get some more time together. If I had someone as handsome as him I wouldn't keep my hands to myself either. Work be damned” she winks at you as you hand her change.

After she's left your head hits the counter, embarrassment catching up to you finally. The chain rattles against the counter and the heat in your cheeks burns warmer as you think back to Hobie’s earlier affections.

“Two to one Hobart” you mutter as you try to calm yourself to get through the rest of your shift and think of ways to get him back.

[dema-heart]

Hehehe id just made one yesterday too! Honestly pretty close to what I want for my sona, willow! She's kinda my take on silk/venom but with a fox spirit (the ears)!

@the-kr8tor @thats-a-mushroom @hyperfix-wip @rexlroze @hobieszeze and other moots-

You have to try this piccrew. Thank you to Roze for rebloging the original creator's announcement. It had me hyped as fudge.

[dema-heart]

"I like that in a bird" *SWOONS* Sorry, sir, I forgot what stranger danger was because of how damn charming you are.

Flash: *points at self and gets nod* Fuck. (The funniest shit i can't beacuse same flash. I'd rather you just chase me😂😭😮‍💨)

What's Your Favourite Scary Movie?

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 11.3k

Summary: A camping trip with your so-called friends takes a turn from harmless taunting to gore filled stabbing.

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), slasher AU, Horror elements, CW bullying, CW food mentions, TW death, TW blood and gore, CW violence. Set in the 80s, CW animal death, drug mention.

Navigation

Octobie 🎸

Music blares in your ears through your headphones as the car passes by numerous pine trees along the road. You flick your eyes over to the rearview mirror when you felt eyes on your face. Sure enough, Flash's smiling eyes stare at you through the mirror. And when you hear muffled giggling, you already know where the delighted laughter is coming from.

As you glance at the passenger seat, Miranda's amused grin greets you. Her blond hair bounces as she tries to play innocent. Even with your music murmuring their words, you know that they're talking about you. So you slyly press pause on your walkman, with their chortling they barely heard the click of the button.

“God, purple isn't doing her any favours. I can't believe we're sharing the same car as the freak.” Andy, a jock like Flash, sneers right behind you as he sits at the far end with the luggage because of his size. “That's the color right, babe?”

His girlfriend, Quinn snorts in her seat next to you. “She’s wearing navy blue, babe. And yes that sweater looks fucking ugly, it's so 1975. I think I saw my grandma wear that once.” She twists in her seat to face her boyfriend, elbow hitting your cheek, but you pretend that it didn't happen for your sanity. She doesn't even mention it. “Are you sure you didn't hit your head during the game?”

Andy puts his arms on your headrest, and again, you get hit by elbows. You're starting to hate your club advisor for putting you in the same car as the people who never even wanted to be part of the forestry club in the first place. They joined because your club was unfortunate enough to have less members and therefore was the target of the popular clique because they were ‘too busy’ to pick a required club lest they don't graduate at the end of the year. Oh how you wish you were in the same van as Thena even though she smells like swiss cheese. But alas, you drew the short end of the stick.

“Or maybe he fell on his head when he was a baby.” Emma says nonchalantly with a book in her hands. She's kind of alright to you, only because she doesn't speak or even look at you.

Miranda giggles in the passenger seat while her boyfriend Flash laughs with her.

“I'm color blind, bitch!” Andy yells, making you wince.

“Yeah, he's color blind!” His girlfriend Quinn agrees. You feel like your head is being split open by her shrill voice. You long for swift death in this car.

“That's your comeback, bruv?” Flash eggs Andy on, you worry that his attention isn't fully on the road.

“W-what? You got a better one, fucker?”

“W-w-what?!” Flash says mockingly. A round of laughter echoes around the small wagon, and you swear you heard Andy growl at the guy. You kind of feel bad for the big guy, if he wasn't such an asshole to you.

More than annoyed, you press play on your walkman as they continue to bicker. Punk music filters through your ears and for a moment you feel alright. But this time Miranda hears the click, your former childhood friend turns to look at you with a condescending smirk.

“Welcome back to the real word, Paste.”

You hate that nickname so much, you wanted to throw the walkman at her face. But you take the high ground and just ignore her like you always do. That damned nickname. She thinks she's so clever for thinking of it when you two were just nine when she caught you scooping out a dollop of paste for a birthday card you were making. She thought that you were about to eat it, hence the nickname, Paste. The birthday card was for her, too bad the trashcan ended up receiving it.

“I told you not to call me that—”

“Bitch, look out!” Andy's gruff voice is grating in your ears, his yell trumps out your music as Andy swerves the steering wheel.

“Shit!” Miranda clutches at her seat belt as you see a deer standing right in the middle of the road.

“Fuck!” Emma, holds on to the front seat just as the car goes sideways, tires skidding on the asphalt, blackened smoke coming out of the rubber.

“Mother fucker!” You brace yourself as the chorus of the music in your ears crescendos, and a tree trunk gets dangerously close to the front of the car. “No—!”

You fall into darkness.

—

You hear an animalistic groan the second you're conscious. Eyes fluttering open, you're met with Emma's flashlight flashing on your face.

“She's awake!” She yells as she roams her eyes over your form from outside the car.

“How long was I out?” You touch your throbbing forehead. It aches but thankfully you don't find blood.

“Just a few minutes, sleeping beauty.” This is the longest time she has had a conversation with you. Her blue hair glistens in the afternoon sun as she opens the door for you. “You hurt anywhere?”

You shake your head. “I'm good…I think.”

She sighs, “good, up and at ‘em.”

You take it one tiny step at a time, once your hiking boots hit the grass, you assess the damage of the car. The hood is busted from the tree curved around the metal. The engine is smoking and the lights are smashed to pieces. There's also a huge scratch on the side of it. Mrs. Williams is gonna kill the whole lot of you when she sees her car.

“Oi, Paste!” You roll your eyes at Flash's call.

“I told you not to call me that—!” The second you turn around and set your eyes on the barely alive deer in the middle of the road, you swallow thickly at the poor animal.

“Gnarly, right?” Flash grins, but when he glances at the deer his smile fades. “What are we going to do with it?”

“Should we bury it?” Quinn says whilst hidden behind her boyfriend.

“It’s still alive.” Your eyes never leave the gasping animal. Crossing the small distance, still wobbly in your feet, you tilt your head at its large wound. Even doctor Dolittle can't fix this.

“What do you suggest we do then, Paste?” Miranda side eyes you. “We can't call for help. There's no payphone in sight!” She stomps her foot like a child. “Gah! I should've joined the homemakers club instead of forestry!”

Emma nudges you, “I think I know what Y/N here is thinking.”

“You do?” You furrow your brows.

“You speak freak now, Emma?” Quinn sneers.

You ignore her. “We should end its misery.”

“Fuckin' hell, mate!” Flash gestures wildly at the deer. “It's still alive, maybe if we wait for Mrs. Williams and the others—”

“They might have already passed this place because you and princess here kept needing bathroom breaks.” You blurt out. Miranda and Flash scoff with a shake of their bottle blond heads.

“Woah!” Emma clasps your shoulder. And you flinch away from her touch.

“Paste here has some fire in her!” Quinn joins in, queasiness gone. Queasy Quinn, you should call her that.

With a clenched jaw, you bend down to retrieve your butterfly knife from your boot. Flipping it open, you roam your eyes at the bewildered group.

“Damn.” Andy whistles lowly. His girlfriend punches his bicep.

“Who's gonna do it?” You ask, the deer continues to wheeze out. Its blood now slowly inching its way over to your feet.

“Not me!” They simultaneously say with their index finger pointing at their noses.

You're camping with a bunch of children it seems. With a sigh, you kneel down next to the deer. Looking into its deep brown eyes, it's a sea that threatens to pull you under its sympathy. Your hand settles atop its blood coated fur, matted under your touch, warm and still oozing with fading life. It huffs at you, bleating like it's pleading to be spared, or be taken out of its misery. Whatever it was, you swiftly stab it in its carotid artery right on its neck, as if you've done it a million times before.

The group's disgusted yells and groans fade in your senses as its crimson flows from the wound down to your knife and hand. It's still warm, you feel like you're death itself. The poor deer stops twisting and kicking, finally falling limp in your hands.

Your blood rushes in your ears, pulse thumping like the beat of drums. Something inside you awakens from its dormant state you've forced it inside your ribcage. It flutters right out of its crystalline cocoon, beginning to fly out, trying to escape the confines of your serrated flesh. Breath running warm, you take out your knife from its body.

“Freak,” Miranda taunts under her breath, you can feel that a part of her is afraid. Does she not realize you're the one holding the bloodied knife?

“You looked like you enjoyed that one, Paste.” Her boyfriend agrees, you send them a tensed glare. They both look away from you. You can feel the fear behind their distant eyes.

“Your sweater is wasted.” Quinn raises a brow with an amused glint in her eyes. “Good, it was ugly anyway.”

You stare at your blood soaked sleeve. “I'll go get cleaned up.”

“You better, you smell like a dead rat.” Andy scoffs, arm slung over his girlfriend's shoulders.

“Go, we'll manage here.” Emma says without looking in your direction, eyes trained on the now dead deer, disgusted by its guts flowing out of its many wounds.

You walk back towards the car where your bag is. Once you reach it, you fall on your knees behind the car to avoid any more teasing from your so-called club mates. Weirdly enough, you don't feel shaken by it, nor disgusted like the rest of them. It's a weird feeling. You haven't felt this way in a long time. But this feeling, this enlightened feeling brings you a familiar comfort, bringing you back to your summer camp days.

After collecting your thoughts, you change into a turquoise windbreaker, blood all wiped clean by a wet handkerchief. Once you hide the knife back inside your boot, you return to the rest of the group with your backpack slung over your shoulder. The tin water bottle and skillet clangs against each other, signaling your return.

“Took you long enough,” Quinn says in her high pitched voice that is glass breakingly worthy. “We came up with a plan.” You didn't even know that they're all capable of thinking. “So we thought that we could wait here for the rest of the club to rescue us—”

“Bad idea.” You cut her off. Their eyes are all on you, and you almost shrunk down from their stares. “I–I think we should hike towards the campsite. We have a better chance of meeting up with them that way. We can't wait out here in the cold, especially since we don't know if they've already passed here.”

“Makes sense.” Emma agrees, still avoiding your eyes. Was that fear?

“But that's so far though!” Miranda kicks at a pebble like a petulant child.

You clench your jaw. “Then wait here, I'll hike up to the campsite.” Fixing your hold on your pack, you start walking away. “Don't blame me when you're all freezing to death.”

“Wait for me!” Emma calls after you, running towards the car to get her own pack.

“Not you too, Emma!”

“I'd rather stay with the survivalist than the cheerleaders!”

“Damnit,” Flash curses under his breath while the rest of them look at him, waiting for a plan. “I hate to say it, but she has a point. We have no idea how to even light a fire. But Paste here can.”

You walk quicker when you hear them following you. If you could sprint away, you would've. But alas, you need to conserve every bit of energy you have to trudge through the last miles towards the designated campsite.

Emma walks side by side with you, well, a few steps apart from you. She's silent for the most part except for her lingering gaze on the side of your face. The rest are already arguing behind you after five minutes of walking. Of course they're arguing about the single granola bar that Miranda packed for herself.

You deafen them out in your ears, wishing that the birds would sing louder in the trees to tamp out their voices. You'd put on your headphones but it broke in half during the crash. The air smells fresh in the forest, with the wind brushing along your cheeks like a gentle kiss. You smile gently at the peace, mind cleared of anything but the road in front of you.

Once the asphalt road transitions to a dirt road, it's now a real hike as your group sees the sign that reads, ‘jumping spider campgrounds.’

“Spider?” Quinn shrieks behind you and the peace is broken. “Please don't tell me this camp grounds is full of spiders!”

You realize that she's talking to you. “It's just the name.”

“You sure, Paste?” Flash questions you in a teasing tone. “They named it that for a reason.”

“Augh!” Quinn scampers behind her boyfriend.

You clench your hand on the strap of your backpack. “I've been here a few times and I've only seen two spiders.”

“Two is too much!” Quinn screams. At least no wild animal would come near the group with her voice ringing out through the entire forest. Unless there are wolves running about, then you'd hide behind Andy too. You're sure the wolves would like to eat him first.

With a headache blooming on the top of your head, you finally make it to the campsite after two and a half hours of walking. It's a small clearing in the middle of the woods with a few picnic tables set up and a dilapidated looking restroom sitting in the corner. Instead of Thena waving at you enthusiastically, there's no one in the campsite. A chill runs down your spine. You suppose it's the cold.

“Fuck.” You utter as you find out that the entire place sits empty without your other club mates and advisor.

Miranda and the rest push past you, shoving you to the side to look for a soul in the campsite.

“No! What the fuck!” Andy screams as he looks under a picnic table.

Emma stands in the middle of the clearing, hands gripping her blue hair. “Maybe they're running late?”

“Two hours late even though they were definitely right in front of us?” For once, Miranda says something right.

“Or maybe we're in the wrong campsite!” Quinn comes out of the bathroom with her hands shaking.

“Or they're out hiking already!” Flash crumples down to his feet, looking disheveled.

Then, all their eyes meet yours simultaneously. Their eyes shimmer under the sun, a slight blue hue falling on each of their faces.

You blink, lips slightly agape. “What?”

“What do you mean what?” Miranda walks over to you, pointing stiffly at your chest. “Where are they, hm?”

“How should I know? I was with you all the entire time. I can't communicate with them telepathically!” You immediately defend yourself.

“What the fuck should we do now?” Emma huffs, hands braced on the picnic table. Again, they all stare at you, as if you hold all the answers.

You don't know what to do either. “We should wait for them. They could just be running late. Or maybe they took a wrong turn—”

“God! I should've just joined table tennis!” Miranda exhales out, words carrying out into the woods.

“Listen.” You try to get their attention again. Which surprisingly enough, they give to you. “We should make camp and build a fire. The cold could kill us out here—”

“The cold?!” Miranda screams again, this time in your face. “You're worried about the bloody cold? We could get eaten by bears! Or fucking spiders!”

“If you could just listen for a second—!”

“I'm gonna look for a payphone.” Flash grabs Miranda, leading her further into the campsite.

“There are no payphones out here—!”

“I need to fucking piss.” Andy interrupt you.

“Don't fucking leave me out here!” His girlfriend follows closely behind.

You huff with a groan, frustrated at the situation. One moment they're listening to you, the next they're walking out into the woods.

“I'll set up the tents.” Emma says from the side. “I don't want to freeze to death.” She takes out her folded tent inside her pack. Clearing her throat, she looks at you. “Do you want me to set up yours?”

“Would you?” You ask with trepidation, what if she fills your tent with dirt and rocks?

“Yeah, sure. My dad used to take me out camping. I hated it but at least I learned some basic survival skills.”

“Like pitching up a tent?”

She chuckles nervously. “Exactly!” Coughing, she walks over to you to take your tent. “No tricks, I don't want you to freeze too.”

With slight apprehension, you give her your tent. Bag still slung over your shoulder, as much as you trust her right now, you don't trust her to give her your entire supply for surviving out here.

“I'll find some firewood and build a fire.” You say, rubbing your arms up and down for warmth.

“‘kay, watch out for jumping spiders. Or just regular spiders.” She jokes, managing to make you smile.

“I have bug spray with me, I'm sure I'll be fine.” Walking away, you head towards the left side of the forest where it's more familiar to you. Getting lost is the last thing you'll need here, especially when you're partnered up with people who wouldn't notice that you're gone.

Your feet aches and your neck throbs, despite it, you keep your head down to collect more firewood. You gather it in your arms, mindful that it doesn't poke a hole in your windbreaker.

You see a perfect branch near a pine tree, it's straight with a few bumps on the wood. It looks like something a kid would take to play as a knight. So of course you would take it.

Arm too full of branches, you bend at the waist to grab one from the forest floor. You don't anticipate all the firewood in your arms to spill over and fall on the mossy ground. It all tumbles down like a domino while you struggle to grab them even with your pack being so heavy on your back. And you're left with a single branch in your hand, sighing and silently cursing.

Left with no choice, you kneel down to collect it all again. You hear leaves crunch behind you, yet you continue to gather all the fallen firewood.

“Need help?” A voice suddenly follows the crunching sound. You don't yell or scream from the surprise appearance of the unknown voice.

You look over your shoulder, windbreaker making a swoosh sound as you move. Your eyes lock with his hazel eyes, he stands there, all six feet and five inches of him, (approximately in your mind) under the green canopy and greener moss underneath his steel toed boots, he looks right at home in the forest. But at the same time, he seems out of place with all his leather clad self, numerous patches stitched and buttons dotted along his jacket. His piercings shine as the light passes above, showing you his chiseled features. He looks like he crawled out of a catalogue, or from a punk album.

The sight of him makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, but you can't seem to find it in yourself to walk away or look away from him. It's like you're staring at a shark's fin moving underneath the waves, parting the waters in a glorious display of a deadly dance. You know what's underneath, and you know what it entails if you stayed, but you still stand there, gazing upon his mysterious eyes that hold you in place.

He gives you a familiar feeling akin to a cold breeze brushing along your flushed skin, or perhaps a gentle wave pooling around your ankles at the beach. There's warmth and familiar coldness in his eyes, one that you're sure you've seen in yourself.

“H–hi?” You ask, smile a bit wobbly from how awestruck you are. Something passes by his eyes, something akin to fascination.

“Hello,” the stranger grins, eyes crinkling at the corners, hands still tucked inside his pockets. “Are you lost? D’you need help?”

“Not really.” You chuckle nervously. He walks towards you, footsteps barely making any sound. “Are you camping here alone? Have you seen anyone else here?”

He shakes his head, crouching down to pick up all the fallen branches. “Yes, and no one, just you, love.”

You hold a single branch to your chest, “oh, you don't need to help me.”

“I want to, I can't just stand there and let you pick all these up.” He chuckles deeply, you now notice his dimples whenever he smiles. “You ‘ere with your mates? I heard you lot from where I was.”

“Kind of.” You softly smile, finding his own contagious. Something about him makes you feel at ease, more like yourself. “Do you know a payphone nearby? We need it desperately.”

He hands you the branches in your arms, calloused palms brushing along your own. “I think there's one a few miles west ‘ere.”

Your face brightens, and his gaze softens. “That's great, can you take me there? I need to call our advisor. I'm…worried about them, and Flash the moron totaled the car.”

The handsome stranger stands up, and he lends you a helping hand which you take almost immediately. His hand feels cold yet inviting. “So you're with your classmates then? How many are you stuck ‘ere?”

“Yep— kind of, they're my club mates. There's six of us including me.”

He inhales, the corner of his lip curls into a smile. “Alright, I'll help you.”

You sigh in relief. “I'm Y/N by the way.”

He tests your name sweetly on his tongue. Reaching for your hand, he shakes it gently even with you carrying the firewood. You almost fumbled with it when you grasped his hand. “Hobie. Call me Hobie, love.”

“It's nice to meet you, Hobie.” You haven't smiled this much during the whole trip.

“C’mon, I'll show you where the phone is.”

You nod enthusiastically despite the goosebumps running up your arms. “Okay.”

Hobie smiles, a smile akin to a lion's grin. “I'll take those off you, then.” He takes your armful of branches on his own, all the while having his eyes on you. “I can't live with myself if I let you carry this all alone.”

“Oh,” you suddenly feel warm, a good kind of warm. “Can I at least take half of it?”

He chuckles while fixing his hold on the wood. “You can take one.” At first you thought he was joking, but with his raised brow and curl of his lips, you thought otherwise.

You fight a grin. “Just one?” With a nod from your acquaintance, you take a single branch from the pile in his arms. “You sure you can carry it all?”

In a display of strength, he flips the branches over to one arm, carrying it all with no problem. “See? You already took a load off of it.” You tamp down a giggle. He starts to walk away from you, when he notices that you're not following him, he looks over his shoulder casually. “You comin'?”

Looking behind you, your second thoughts about leaving them behind are squashed down by their ugly words uttered to you through the years. “Sorry, I'm coming.” You catch up with him, side by side, you follow him with a small smile.

Leaves crunch under your boots whilst you fling the branch in your hand bashfully, letting the wood brush over the tall grass. The silence permeates through the hike with him carrying the load, and guiding you while you just walk close by him. You've never been the one to be guided, it's always you who has to guide the others, keep a watchful eye so they don't get poison ivy, and you, who has to lug around the supplies. All the while you listen to them expressing their ungratefulness. You stare at his profile, smile tugging at your lips immediately when he gazes back at you wordlessly. It's nice to be taken care of once in a while.

For the first time in a long time, you start a conversation. A friendly one that you know won't end in you getting called a nasty word.

“So why camp alone?” You tentatively start, nails picking at the branch in your hand. “This part of the forest isn't exactly beginner friendly.”

“Who says ‘m a beginner?” He nudges you gently, making you look up from your feet. “My mates and I used to come ‘ere and just stay for an entire week forgettin’ our lives until we got the scent of city smoke out of our noses.” Chuckling, Hobie looks at you through glimmering eyes. “Now it's jus’ me and my motorbike.”

“What happened to them— i–if you're comfortable telling me.”

“A freak accident. There was a forest fire, I barely made it out. But they didn't.” He sighs, you open your mouth for an apology but he beats you to it. “It was a long time ago, no need to say your condolences.”

“Still, I'm sorry. It must've been hard.” You reach out to him, but you decide not to last minute lest you make your new friend uncomfortable.

Hobie leans against your palm before you fully move away, his smile gets brighter when you decide to cup his elbow gently. “Thank you, love. I come ‘ere to look at the shitty condo they built atop it and imagine that it's burnin.’ Ain't that fucked up of me, hm?”

You chuckle, already regretting the sound right after. “I— no, that's actually…uh.”

“Funny?” He completes your sentence while chortling at your flustered self.

You blink, fully laughing with him. “I was gonna say that but I didn't want to offend you!”

“Consider me not offended, love. You've got a sense of humour amidst the fucked up shit in the world, I fancy that in a bird.” The heat on your cheek is impossible to ignore, you have a feeling he knows about it too. “The funny thing is that it's not even done yet, it just stands there on their graves like some fucked up grave stone.” He sniffs, thumb rubbing along the corner of his eye. “My turn to ask a question, what kind of club are you and your mates are in?”

“Forestry. And they're not exactly my mates.” You spat out the last word with malice. You both pass by a towering pine tree and a start to a dirt trail.

“Alright— hold on…” he pauses mid step, with a careful hand atop your shoulder, he reaches for your cheek, “you have red on you, can I?”

You don't usually let anyone touch you, especially someone who's practically a stranger. But the familiar feeling grows with every moment you're with him. As if you've known him for a long time, a long lost childhood friend that you've finally found amidst the throng of worthless faces. So you let him with a nod, let him wipe away the deer's dried up blood caking your cheek. The pad of his thumb is calloused and rough, yet his touch is as gentle as a raindrop falling on your skin. You welcome the feeling wholeheartedly.

“There, all clean.” He doesn't ask why you have blood on you, “it was hidin’ your pretty face.”

“It was just a drop, and I highly doubt that.” You say bashfully.

“That you're pretty or that it hides your face?” His hand rests upon your shoulder, thumb ghosting above your heated cheek. “You’re stunnin’, I wasn't going to let that small thing mark you.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. There it is again, the familiar yet cold feeling washing over you. It's a beautiful contradiction. You're not perturbed by it in the slightest. “Thank you.” you could only manage to say those two words.

Hobie leans away, hand pulling reluctantly away from you. From the way his tender gaze falls on you, you think he feels it too. It's not love, not yet anyway. It's attraction. The kind that's magnetic, the kind that you know he'll fit right in with your missing pieces, the kind that he'd let himself fall into place right next to the spaces that he can and will gladly fill out. His soul glows behind his calm demeanor, as if the two last endangered beings have finally met their match. Feathers plucked from the same bird.

But it's an unspeakable match, one that could end in teeth marks left upon each other’s skin, leaving darkened blood boiling to the surface, caking each other’s maw with his and your own blood. So you two let it simmer, let it boil until one of you cracks under the pressure like trapped frogs in a boiling pot. So for now, you act as if you don't feel it in case you're wrong. Something you wouldn't want to be wrong with.

You bite the inside of your cheek while you continue to follow him. Each of your footsteps match the beating of your heart, and you swear that he can feel it too.

Walking out of the thicket and into a clearing, you two have made it out to a smaller campsite where a single eerie lamp post and payphone stands in the middle. Its paint is chipping from the elements, only leaving a few scraps of red and stickers vandalizing the payphone. There's a steep ledge behind the payphone, showing the top of the green canopies below, and the fading light from the sunset above.

“I'll wait for you ‘ere.” He says next to you, already walking towards a black and red motorbike parked at the edge of the clearing.

“This yours?” You ask with a smile, eyes roaming all over its shiny metal.

He pats the seat before leaning on it. “My treasure, I call her ‘Ripley’”

“From the Alien movie?” You walk closer to him, payphone forgotten.

“You know it?”

“Do I know it?” You say with a laugh, “‘Mother! I've turned the cooling unit back on. Mother!’” You copy the same tone from the movie.

“‘The ship will automatically destruct in T minus five minutes.’” Hobie replies in a mechanical robotic tone.

“‘You... Bitch!’” You and Hobie quote simultaneously, earning a hearty laugh from the both of you.

You've found yourself holding onto his arm, smiling and giggling with him. “Y’know, they've got a screening of it down at the local drive-in.” You tentatively say, eyes turned down at the pile of branches in his arms.

Hobie puffs out his chest, chin turned upwards with a smirk. “You askin' me out, lovie?”

You exhale, moving away with disappointment and a wobbly frown. “N–no, sorry, I didn't know what I was thinking.” Before you could fully walk away, he grabs your sleeve, tugging you gently back to him.

“C’mon now, love, don't walk away now.” He encourages you with a lopsided grin, eyes smiling genuinely as he gazes at you softly. “Ask me properly.” He bracelets his hand around your wrist, holding onto you gently while he runs his thumb over your quickening pulse.

“I—” you swallow thickly, and he ducks down to look into your shy eyes. With his sweet smile, you gather your courage. “Do you want to go watch Alien with me at the drive-in?” You inhale, his grin gets bigger with every word you utter. “We can have p–popcorn, or if you don't like popcorn, we can have chips and—and then maybe soda but if you don't like soda we can—”

He pulls you in, trapped right in the middle of his legs, not closing in around you, making you more comfortable in his tentative embrace. “I like popcorn. And I'll take you on a motorcycle ride right after, like how they do in the movies.”

Your skin is aflame. “Okay,” you nod enthusiastically, “a ride right after— I mean!” You fluster, “a bike ride— with me and and you— of course with me and you, it's stupid if—” you ramble on, tripping over your own words. He waits patiently without teasing you. Instead, he smiles, and nods along. “I— yeah, that sounds good.”

He tilts his head, hand brushing a fallen leaf off your shoulder. “Yeah? It's a date then.”

You sigh longingly. You still can't wrap your mind around at how you manage to pull it off. “Okay, I'll—” you reach inside your jacket, pulling out a small notepad and pen, moving quickly to scribble your name and number, afraid that he'll change his mind. “Here's my number.” You rip the page and then hand it to him.

He shrugs, smirking at you. “My hands are kind of full, love.” Technically it is, but he literally just brushed a leaf off of you a moment ago. “Put it in my front pocket for me?” Looking down at his jacket pocket, he smiles sheepishly.

“You and I both know that you can handle it on your own.” You tamp down a giggle, teeth biting down at your lip while you watch him make a face. “Fine, I'll only do it because you're being cute.” Gently, you place it inside his jacket pocket. Your fingers brush something metallic and sharp, but you ignore it. “There.”

“Finally flirtin’ back, huh?”

“Shut up and hand me a quarter, Hobie.” His guffaw echoes around the clearing as he reaches at his jean pocket to rustle for some spare change. “Sorry, too much?” You wince, thinking that it might've turned him off.

He shakes his head with amusement. “You're cheeky once you've gotten comfortable.” He hands you the coin.

“Well, people usually don't stay too long to find out.”

“Their loss, my win.”

You smile, palms clammy and legs turning into mush from his flirting. Staring at the coin in your hand, you find it having two heads on each side. “I don't think the payphone will take this.” It reminds you of the same lucky coin that your club advisor always carries around.

“Right, sorry, that's my lucky coin.” He grabs it back nonchalantly, then he rummages through his pocket for another one. Checking it once, he gives the quarter to you. “Use it wisely.”

“A lot of people seem to have their own lucky coin.” You twirl the regular quarter in between your fingers.

“You don't have one?” He creases his brows, you shake your head in reply. “‘ere you go then.” Taking the coin from his pocket again, he puts it in the middle of your palm. “For luck.”

“I can't take this, it's yours.” You try to give it back but he pushes your hand away.

“Nah, you can borrow it. Bring it back to me on our date, yeah?”

You chuckle softly, eyes gazing into his own, finding your bashful reflection in his hazel eyes. “Okay.” With a shy nod, you turn towards the payphone to dial your school's number.

—

Hobie waits for you in the sideline while he basks in the sunlight. His eyes are closed while his head is turned up into the heavens, arms cradling the sticks, letting the rays bathe him through the dappled shadows of the canopy above. He looks like an oil painting.

He cracks one eye opening, sensing your presence. “What’d they say?” Straightening up, he tilts his head.

“Uh…” You've forgotten what the school administrator told you for a second. “T–they said that the rest of the club had already called ahead to tell them that they've arrived at the last pit stop. But we were just there and when I asked the cashier at the gas station, she said that she didn't see a van stop by.” You rub at your tired eyes. “I don't know where they are.”

Hobie leaves the side of his bike to cross the small distance towards you. His eyes are full of concern, lips turned into a frown. “‘m sure they're fine, love.” He juggles the wood in one arm to grasp at your tensed hand, giving you enough space to turn away but you don't.

“I’m not worried about them, Hobie. I know they're okay. But…” you squeeze his hand, “I don't want to be left alone with those fuckers.”

He scrunches his nose. “What fuckers?”

“I— forget it, I'll just tough it out until the others get here.”

“Nah, I'll keep you company.” He pulls you gently by your hand, “c’mon, I'll beat ‘em off with a stick if I have to. I have a lot of ‘em.” He shakes the bundle of wood in his arms.

You chuckle, “you don't even know what they've done.”

“I know enough from how you talk ‘bout ‘em.” He shrugs, warm fingers squeezing you back. “They sound like a piece of work.”

“You have no idea.” With a reluctant step, you move towards the trail once again. Hand in hand with Hobie, the two of you head to the campsite where surely they've forgotten about you and your firewood. Or with your luck, the spiders got to them.

“What did they do to you?” He cuts the silence in half. “Do they hurt you?” His tone softens with a tinge of fury within it.

“Not usually.” You reply back, eyes turned away from him. He encourages you with a gentle tug, lips softly smiling at you. Inhaling, you let it all out with hope that it doesn't turn him off with your woes. “The guys just tease me about… everything else. But the girls— they once locked me in the janitor's closet for an entire day. The janitor found me hours after classes ended.” You can hear his sharp inhale next to you. “One time they…uh— threw glue and flour at me during picture day. I had to go home after that and I didn't get my picture taken for the yearbook. It's just blank, fitting, right?”

Hobie shakes his head, eyes swirling with something you can't describe. “No, it's not. They're wankers.”

“I— yeah, they are.” You feel a weight lifted off your shoulders. No one has listened to you like that in years. Before it was Miranda, before she decided that you're not worth being friends with. “I know what you're thinking, I should fight back. I tried, it only made everything worse. They only do it because they think I don't belong in their fancy school. That I'm only there because of my merit, not because of my parents' money or lack of it.” Looking up at Hobie, you see him staring back with a clenched jaw. “I'm sorry, that was….pathetic.” You grip the branch tighter until you can feel the splinters digging into your palm. “We don't get to choose the room we're stuck in. But we can choose the people we let in. Graduation's coming, and I get to kick them out soon.” You smile at him and he smiles back with soft empathetic eyes.

“Maybe sooner than you'd think. And It isn't pathetic, they're the pathetic ones.” You both reach the place where you met him as you question inside your mind what he meant by his first sentence. He stops walking, hand carefully pulling you to a stop. “I have a confession to make. ‘m not ‘ere to grieve.”

You furrow your brows, stopping mid step. “What?”

“I know them, the rich fuckers that torments you.”

“So you know me too?” You let go of his hand, heart cracking.

“No, not you, just ‘em.” He glances behind you where you can hear Quinn's laughter. “Just— I'll tell you after, yeah? For now, I want to tell you that everythin' I told you was real. I do want that date, love. I only ever want to see you.”

“For real?” You reach for him, palm placed on his chest. Hobie drops the sticks unceremoniously, the sound of wood clattering down on the soil.

He then holds your hand in place, fingers curling around it. “Real. I need you to know me fully. Let me in the room y'know.” With a sigh of relief, you lean closer as he mirrors your movements, lips pursing, breath fanning over your lips.

“Paste!” Miranda suddenly yells from behind you. Whirling around, your smile falters. “Shit, there you are! Who the fuck are you talking to, you freak?”

“I—” you turn back around to face Hobie but he's nowhere to be found. Your breath gets stuck in your throat. “He was right there.”

She clicks her tongue at you, “stop tripping and get back to camp! The sun's setting.”

She doesn't help you with the firewood as she leaves you alone in the middle of the forest. You look around in hopes of finding Hobie, but you don't see nor hear him anywhere. Sighing, hope dashed, and chest aching with longing, you walk slowly back to camp.

—

After three hours of setting up camp with barely any help from the others, the tents are fully pitched behind you, and you finally get to sit down and rest near the campfire you built with the same wood that Hobie was carrying. For someone whom you just met, he seems to occupy your mind ever since he left. He told you he'd stay for you, but why would he leave the moment Miranda appeared?

The fire engulfs your frozen heart, you watch as the embers crackle, eyes unblinking at the bonfire. Your hands cradle a can of peaches, you haven't taken a bite of it ever since you opened it, your mind keeps wandering back to Hobie, wondering if he was even real.

“Oi, paste!” Andy calls for you, when you don't acknowledge him, he throws a tin can at you that lands right on your thigh. “Jesus, she's out of it.”

“Did you find some mushrooms out there, pasty?” Quinn's mocking tone makes you glance at them without moving your head. You can see her flinch slightly from your glare.

“Man, if you actually did find some mushrooms, can I have a bite?” Emma asks, back leaning on a log while she nurses a flask of vodka. You can smell it from where you're sitting.

“I didn't find any.” You mutter, eyes flickering down at the fire, vision swirling at the dancing flames.

“Too bad, remember when we found some last time?” Flash chuckles, arm snaked over Miranda's shoulders, who stare at him dumbstruck.

“What the fuck, Flash?!” She slaps his bicep in a resounding smack. “I told you that we can't talk about it!”

“Relax, M, it's been two whole years! Besides, our parents made sure that it stays buried. Literally.” That piqued your interest. Subtly, you listen in. Flash guffaws, fist bumping Andy on his way to snatch the flask away from Emma. He takes a generous sip while Andy cheers him on. “Fuck, that's good.”

“Those mushrooms fucked us up real fucking bad, Flash. It wasn't some bad trip.” Miranda chastises, she turns towards Emma and the others, sneering at each of them. “Did you all not remember what happened?”

“Of course we do, Miranda.” Quinn scoffs, flinging Andy's arm away from her middle. “I can still hear the screams!”

You blink, being practically invisible has its perks. Your hands grip the can, ears straining to hear more of the hushed conversation.

“Screams?” Andy shakes his big head, “try the smell, their burning skins were stuck in my nose for weeks.”

Miranda rubs her face, “you lot have no ounce of empathy do you?”

“Please,” Emma adds, glaring at each of them before stopping by Miranda. “You were the one who insisted we stayed at the campsite instead of our usual place. Now there's a patch of burnt forest where your father's— mind you, my father's, Quinn's mother, Andy's parents and Flash's grandfather, contributed to hide the crime where the condo now stands.”

Your eyes widens, hand slithering its way inside your pocket only to find the two headed coin. So it's real, Hobie is real. So it wasn't a freak accident, and this is what He meant by knowing them.

They killed his friends.

Miranda seethes in place, hands clenched into fists. “I'm not the one who decided to light up in the middle of summer where the dry leaves were! And now we're stuck here, forced to take forestry because a judge said so!”

“Oh fuck you, Miranda.” Quinn stands up, stomping her bedazzled boot on the ground. “If it weren't for my mum then we'd all be in fucking jail! Getting stuck with the freak was the lesser demon!”

“It's ‘lesser evil,’ actually.” You finally add, eyes glancing at each of their angry faces. “And man, how many people did you all kill, hm?”

“It was an accident.” Emma blinks at you, “fuck, great, she knows.”

Andy huffs like a mad bull seeing red flapping in front of him. “You gonna keep quiet about it, paste, or do I have to make you?”

Their stares bore into you, you now realize the amount of danger that you're in. Individually, you can take one down, but with them all after you, you won't survive the morning.

So you dig deep, you free the moth from the pits of your soul, letting it loose. “Oh, I'm going to keep quiet about it. Who would believe me anyway?” You scoop out a peach from the untouched can, bringing it to your mouth, you let the fruit slide down your throat. “Besides, I know something you don't. Something important that could lead to dangerous consequences if you didn't know.”

“What is it?” Emma looks you up and down, brows knitted together in uneasiness.

You tilt your head, grinning but your eyes don't convey the same expression. “Only if you promise not to hurt me.”

They all look at eachother, silently agreeing. “Fine,” Flash starts, “what is it?”

You lean back on the tree trunk, “you forgot to say please.”

They scoff, “please.” Emma says it first, then one by one, they say it with reluctance.

Miranda is the only one who hasn't said a word, but with a steely gaze from her boyfriend, she relents. “Please.” She says through gritted teeth.

You smile. “Mrs. Williams and the others aren't coming.”

“What?!” They shout.

“Yeah, I called the school but turns out they don't know where they are either. They're technically missing.” You pause, watching their expression sour further. “I told them where we are but since we're fairly alright they're focusing on trying to find them instead. So we're stuck here— wait, no, I'm stuck here with a bunch of murderers.” That seems to break the camel's back.

“You fucking freak!” Miranda jumps over the bonfire, lunging towards you with her fist connecting with your cheek. “Say that again!”

You laugh, spitting out blood as she wraps her hands around your throat. The others watch while Emma is the only one that's trying to stop her from choking you out with her hands, desperately failing to wrench her away from you.

“A–all this time,” you wheeze out, “you keep calling me the freakazoid, the fucking weirdo when you and your fucked up little friends are the ones who have actually kill—!” With a yell, she closes her fists around your throat, cutting off your air while you claw at her hands. “Fucking b–bitch!” You manage to let out.

“Miranda, no!” Emma tries to yank her away from you.

“That's enough!” Flash finally tries to do something but Miranda elbows his nose, blood quickly pouring out a second later. “Shit!”

Quinn and Andy slowly back away until they're well into the forest, nowhere to be seen.

“Fucking die!” Miranda squeezes harder as black spots filter your vision, she bangs your head harshly against the log behind you, warm crimson trickling out immediately after impact. “You've always been a thorn on my side! Always so fucking perfect, always the better one!”

You grin despite the blood coating your mouth. “I–I won't be surprised if it w–wasn't an accident. I get it, your mom and dad never loved you enough. Is that it, Miranda?” You choke, using your remaining energy to get the last word out, nails digging into her wrists.

Suddenly, piercing screams echo above your gasps. Flash manages to yank Miranda's grasp around your throat, leaving you breathless and gasping on the cold soil. The three of them look where the sound came from with trepidation rising in their veins.

Holding onto your neck, the skin tender and raw, head swirling, you watch on with wide eyes as Quinn comes out of the thicket covered in blood. Her former pristine white coat is drenched, face splashed with the same ruby hue, trainers leaving a trail of thickened crimson. She holds onto her bleeding arm, lips wobbling as tears leave a streak of clean skin amidst the spray of blood. Her head is oozing more of the ichor as she staggers her way out of the dark.

“H–help.”

“Fucking hell.” Emma holds out her arms for her, face contorted into deep fear. “W–what happened? Where's Andy?”

“He's dead!” Quinn cries, feet shuffling slowly towards Emma. Meanwhile, Flash and Miranda watch on with horror, clutching onto one another. “He doesn't have a head anymore. How will he play rugby now?” Just as when Quinn lets out the last word, the arm she has been holding up falls on the ground, making a squelching sound as it meets the grass below. Emma backs away, hands upon her mouth, shocked and terrified. “Oh, my arm fell.” Quinn chuckles through tears only to then tumble down on the gore filled soil right next to her arm.

“What the fuck?!” Emma shrieks.

“No!” Miranda hides behind Flash, who is also trying to hide behind his girlfriend, they struggle to hide behind one another.

You stare at the tainted dirt where Quinn lays face first. She still gurgles in place, body twitching all the while her arm sits a few ways from her. Your blood rushes in your ears, mouth turning dry, chest heaving to let air in. You have no idea what's happening, but there's one thing on your mind.

Run.

With leaves crunching underfoot, out comes a tall figure dressed in black mechanic overalls. His face is obscured by a macabre theater mask that depicts sadness. In his hand is a bloodied machete, and in the other is Andy's head swinging as he moves. He flicks the weapon free of blood, spraying the tall grass below with oozing iron.

You don't wait for the screams to run ahead. With your neck still aching, head pounding, you run for your life.

The hunting begins.

—

You run into the dark nowhere, panting, vision dancing as you push yourself to your limit. If not for your injuries, you'd have a better time navigating the forest from your acquired skills. You've gained some distance between you and the others, so with an apprehensive peek behind a tree, you sit down on the cold soil, back sliding on the trunk, windbreaker scraping against its rough surface.

With a hand on your chest, you try to even out your shallow breathing. “Fuck.” You mutter, tongue brushing along your dry lips.

Reaching behind you, you feel for your wound. Wincing, you bring your hand back towards you, finding blood coating your fingers. Your survival instincts kicks in, perhaps your years as a volunteer summer camp counselor has its perks. An incident with a bear trap involving a fellow counselor was an accident, it wasn't your fault that they blindly stepped into it. Too bad it forced your camp to close permanently.

Zipping your windbreaker slowly so as to not make any noise, you slowly rip the bottom half of your shirt. Once off, you tie it around your head while biting down on the inside of your cheek to tamp down your pained groans. With a tug, you tighten it fully to help stop the blood flow.

You take a breather, that motorcycle ride with Hobie sounds great right about now— Hobie! Your eyes fly open to the thought of him, he can get you out of here on his bike. If not then you can call for help on the payphone. So you find courage deep in you, with a shaky exhale, you stand up, walking back to the same direction where you ran from. You could only hope that he's alright.

Armed with your butterfly knife, you're careful of where you step on. You avoid dry leaves and sticks, opting to walk on the softer soil instead to lessen the sound you make lest you draw a target right on your back.

After a few minutes of trudging along the dark, you make it back to the campsite. The smell of corpses filters through your nose, its smell is just beginning to rot in the moist air as maggots and crows have managed to find their meal.

“Damn it.” You cover your nose with your sleeve, creeping your way towards your pack. You pass by a very much dead Andy, whose head is left out for the worms to get into. His expression is frozen in fear, mouth agape, and eyes wide in surprise. “That colour suits you, Andy.” You scoff, remembering how he tormented you during class by almost burning your hair with his lighter. You watch as maggots eat their way into his eyeball, eyes unable to look away for a moment.

Getting inside your tent, you give one last look at Quinn laying on the ground, unmoving now and skin turning into chalk white. Red still pools around her while the quiet of the night permeates through the chill autumn air.

Pushing the tent open, you enter to grab your backpack on the ground. Finally, hope blossoms in your chest, but the sound of a twig snapping near you freezes you on the spot. You slowly grab your knife next to your leg, all the while barely making any sudden movements. Your eyes flicker on your left, a shadow forms behind the yellow tent, slowly making its way towards you.

You follow its movements, hand gripping the knife until it leaves indents on your skin.

A bead of sweat slides down your temple as the shadow makes its way to the front of your tent.

Breath stuck in your throat, you raise the knife above your head, ready to strike.

A shadow of a hand reaches towards the tent entrance, and you ready yourself.

The tent opens and already you're lunging at them with your knife raised and hand clutching at their front.

“Jesus, it's me!” Flash yells from under you, hands gripping at your windbreaker, eyes wide and blown out as blood flows from a cut on his cheek. “Lower your damn knife, paste.”

“Your girlfriend tried to kill me, why should I?”

“Because I'm not her, duh?!” He shakes his head, hands raised next to him in surrender. “Listen, let's set our differences aside for a second, okay? I don't know a damn thing about surviving out here but I do know that we've got a bigger chance of staying alive if we stay together.”

You clench your jaw, weighing your options. If push comes to shove, you can use him as your shield since he's bigger built than you.

“...fine. But you listen to me, and do what you're told or I'll leave you here.” You push yourself off him, the knife never leaving your grasp.

Flash nods, standing up and brushing himself off. “Do you have a plan? Because you sound like you have a plan.”

“I do.” You say whilst going back inside the tent to grab your backpack. Once you emerge, you find Flash standing above Andy's decapitated head. “C’mon.” Beckoning him, you open your flashlight. He still stands there, staring at his friend's head. “Flash, do you want me to leave you here?”

He sighs, eyes trained on the rotting head. “He was my best friend. I should've told him that I slept with Quinn.”

You snort, “trust me, buddy, he knows.”

“What?” He turns to you.

“Come on before he gets back.”

Flash takes one last look at Quinn's body and Andy's head before jogging to catch up to you. “So how did you know?”

“Shut up, I don't want to talk to you.” You ignore him while walking the same path you and Hobie took.

“Jeez, you're no fun.” He says while making a disgusted face at Andy's dead body that you stepped over nonchalantly.

You whirl around, flashlight aimed at his face as he scrunches up his nose. “This isn't supposed to be fun, Flash. Say one more word and I'll leave you out here, because if he hasn't gotten to Miranda and Emma yet, you'll be the next one he targets.” He nods furiously, frown evident on his face. “Good.”

After a few good minutes, you find the same purple flower you saw while walking with Hobie. “So how do you know that I'm next—?”

“Because if it was me, I'll kill the ones who can fight me off first.”

“And you know this because?” He asks you suspiciously, eyes narrowed at you.

“Just nature. And lots of horror movies.” He continues to stare at you with the same face. “I'm not the killer, you moron. I was with you when he attacked, remember?”

“Yeah, but in those killer movies there's always more than one killer.” He leans closer to you, eyes staring daggers. “You one of them, paste?”

You pause, craning your neck to stare at him back with venomous eyes. “You imbecile.” You mock before walking again. He stands there for a moment, unblinking at where you stood. He follows after your light is starting to fade from his line of sight.

“So…you're not one of them?”

“There's the phone.” You roam your eyes around the clearing all the while ignoring the man next to you. The pay phone still stands completely unharmed, and the lamp post flickers in the night, bulb whirring above the sound of owls. Your heart aches when you don't find a sign of Hobie being there or his bike. You like to imagine that he's far away from the chaos right about now, at least he'd be safe.

Crossing the distance, you pick up the phone, finding it still in good condition as you hear the dial tone. You rummage through your pockets for a quarter, but to no avail. And then you check around the payphone and the coin flap to check for any forgotten coins. You don't find a single one. “Fuck, do you have a quarter?”

“Shit.” Flash pats his jean pockets and varsity jacket pockets. Again, finding empty handed. “Wait—” he takes off his baseball hat to take out a crisp bill. “Here, it's my emergency money.”

You stare at the bill wordlessly while pointing at the coin slot. He shakes his head, gawping at you. You gesture at the slot then at his bill in hand until he gets it.

Realization flickers in his dim witted eyes. “Oh.”

“Oh.” You mock his tone. “We can't make a call without one.”

“What now?”

“I say we just follow the road and hope that a car comes by.” You point at the dark dirt road ahead of you. “Better get walking—”

An ear piercing scream startles Flash, while your head swivels down at the direction of the sound.

“Shit, that's Miranda!” Flash yells, grabbing your hand in his iron grip, and gunning down the slope to get to the source. “I'm coming, baby! I'm so sorry I slept with Quinn, Darlene, and the rest of your cheer team!” His voice rings in your ears while you're trapped in his hold, you try to pull away and get back to solid ground as he continues to drag you away to the dark abyss but he's too strong for you.

“Flash! Let me go!” You pull and tug with all your might but you're left trying to catch up with his speed while your feet drag behind. “Fuck!” A branch hits you right on your face, getting a mouthful of leaves while you almost lose your balance as you skid down the slope.

“Baby—! Oh mother of fuck!” He freezes, hand falling from your wrist, staring at the unfinished building looming overhead amidst the tall trees and overgrown grass. “Shit, it's this place.”

You glance around the space, finding abandoned heavy machinery, concrete, and trailers littered around the skeleton of a would be condo.

“Flash!” Miranda appears from behind a pillar, limping her way towards you and Flash. “He got Emma!” She embraces him while Flash's attention is glued on the grey building with its protruding metal that creaks in the wind and moss covered concrete. “I definitely tried to save her but she tripped and now she's dead with her body chopped in half!”

You glance at her, finding her tears utterly fake. “Or you tripped her.”

She leans away from flash's chest, eyes narrowed to slits and lips frowning. “You're still alive?”

“No thanks to you.” You smile bitterly at her. Before she gets a word in, you're already walking away towards the tall building, eyes scanning its skeletal structure. You notice the ground is darker from where you stand. “This is where it happened.” You turn towards the couple, “this is where they died.”

“Listen, it wasn't completely our fault.” Miranda stalks closer towards you and you quickly ready your knife in your hand. “We were just playing around, we didn't mean to.”

“You're grown ass adults, Miranda. Did none of you listen to Smokey?”

“No, we were too busy having friends, paste.” She mocks, even in danger she finds it in herself to torment you. “That is not our problem right now, we need to go—!”

A sudden bright spotlight appears in front, you squint your eyes, managing to see the masked figure behind the wheel of a motorbike. Oh. He revs his engine, taunting Flash and Miranda.

“Oh fuck, he's back!” Flash yelps, surprisingly enough, he shields Miranda behind him, arms raised to his sides. “Touch my girlfriend and you die!” You raise a brow at his sudden heroic action.

“Yeah, you tell him, baby!” Miranda coaxes him while you step away and watch the scene unfold.

The masked killer revs his engine again, this time, he rides towards you at lightning speed. Smoke billows out from behind him, blanketing the whole area with fog.

The couple screams, bracing for impact while you step back with your eyes only looking at the killer.

Instead of plowing them down with his bike, he skids on the ground sideways, stopping a few ways ahead of the three of you. Once the sound dies down to a murmur of the engine, Flash and Miranda open their eyes to find the killer tossing his machete at their feet.

“Are you surrendering?” Flash turns to you. “Is he surrendering?” You could only shrug.

The figure points at the blade, and then gets off his bike, letting it run in the background and using its light to illuminate the place. Wordlessly, he stomps over to the front of the bike, his figure obscuring the light a bit.

You can't see his eyes from behind the mask as he gestures towards the glade once again. “I think he's trying to tell you to pick it up and fight him.”

“What?” They both look at you with surprise, they simultaneously turn towards the figure, only to find him eerily nodding in approval.

Flash points at himself, and the man nods slowly. “Fuck.”

“Pick it up, babe, show him how it's done!” Miranda cheers him on, pushing him towards the machete. “End his miserable life so we can get back to our lives.” She spits out.

With a gulp, Flash bends down to grab the blade with reluctance. Miranda moves closer to your side, hand grasping your arm. You let her while Flash assumes the position in front of the figure.

“Come at me!” Flash yells, lunging for him.

With a quick side step, the figure dodges with barely any movement. Flash follows ahead with his attack, raising the weapon over his head to slice but his miserable attack is only met with air. All the while, the stranger has his hands hidden in his pockets, upper half barely making a move as he keeps dodging Flash's desperate slashes.

“Stop moving!” Flash frustratingly yells while sweat flows from his forehead.

“You're not fair!” Miranda adds, yelping when Flash gets close to cutting the figure's hand off, but of course he dodges at the last minute. “Fuck! Come on, baby!”

Flash moves to stab instead, “you fucker—!”

With quick movement that you could barely decipher, Flash suddenly has a knife in his nape. Blood ebbs from his neck as he stands in place, gurgling and choking on his own blood.

Miranda's piercing scream echoes around the clearing as birds caw in the distance. “Oh god!”

The figure takes his knife back with an ugly squelch of muscle and blood. Crimson spraying all over his mask as he holds the knife in his gloved hand. He tilts his head, the sharp end of the knife pointed directly at you, to then slowly go down from your neck to your hand that's gripping your own knife.

Miranda shakes you, “he wants to fight you, Y/N!”

“Hm, I don't think so.” You mutter under your breath while gazing at him. “Why should I?” You glance at her horrified face. “You saw what happened to Flash, I can't fight him.”

“P–please.” She says in between sobs, “do this for us.” You roll your eyes and she shakes your arm. “I never wanted to hurt you, paste.” She pleads, the nickname earning a scoff from you.

“You once slashed my tires just because I was paired with your ex for a project.” You say calmly, façade now fully broken, moth freely flying over you. “I almost crashed into a tree, Miranda.”

The figure steps closer, knife now at his side, waiting for your next move.

“T–that was just a joke! We were just—!” Her words are suddenly cut off by your knife stabbing at her jugular. She gasps as blood sprays at your smiling face, her body falling, hand stuck around your knife, you finally turn towards the masked man.

“And here I thought you'd leave me alone with them.”

He peels off his mask, revealing Hobie's awestruck expression. Blinking, chuckles slowly escape his pierced lips. “Holy shit, love. You're brilliant.”

You shrug, smile never leaving your lips. “You should've said something, I would've helped.” You say, reaching for your knife back, flicking all the blood away before tucking it inside your boot. “

“I thought…” he crosses the distance, hand reaching for your own, he loops his pinky around your own, gently tugging you into his bloodied form. “... never mind that now.” you can hear sirens echo from somewhere. “You still up for that ride?”

“I thought you'd never ask.”

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

Custom banners by @the-shroom-garden

[dema-heart]

*crawls from under the many hours I've worked*

I PROMISE IM WRITING FOR OCTOBIE.

I have wips from anarchy and wildcard for you guys today. My mangers house flooded due to the heavy rains here from the hurricanes further south, and i had to cover for them the last few weeks (I'm usa based)

HERE THEY ARE. I'll be introducing my spidersona for anarchy and inserting her into the part of the movie where everyone meets in pavs universe up to myles chase scene where hobie leaves!

I'm hoping to have at least wildcard done this week for sure!

[dema-heart]

The eyes, chico... They never lie.

Last one for comfort week 🥰 Hobie sees you!

[dema-heart]

Hehehehe I had one of those moments like a month or so ago and I just danced in the heavy rain to music till I couldn't wipe the rain away anymore. It had been so long snice it actually rained like that and i got caught in it and just felt so much relief and joy I started laughing and dancing.

1000/10 definitely fixed me and the warm shower afterwards *chef's kiss*

Me re-reading my own story and inserting myself to hug them both. Cause they're too cute!:

Rainy Day kisses

Hobie x gn! reader

Short story

Mentions of a undetailed bad week

Hobie lifts reader

No detailed description of reader

kissing and cuteness in the rain

Pet names used: luv, angel, dork, Romeo

AMAZING banners by @mushroom-graphics-allotment (thank you so much! I'll definitely be checking out more of them!)

Event hosted by @the-kr8tor go check out her page!

You were having a bad day, honestly a bad week, but today was the icing on the cake. Sighing you grabbed your bags preparing to make your mopey trek home. You hoped you'd be able to get in contact with Hobie today, he hadn't been to the pub for a while or making himself known at your door, remembering your address after he'd walked you home a few times. He always knew how to cheer you up and the little crush you had on him was only 10 percent of why.  

Shaking your head with a heavy sigh you waved goodbye to your coworkers. The walk to your apartment from the pub wasn't far but with how overcasted the sky was you weren't sure you'd make it home in time to beat the rain and of course, with it being the kind of week it was you had forgotten a jacket. With one last look up at the darkening sky you hurried home. 

Hobie cursed as he watched as you took off, currently standing on the building across the pub you worked at. He’d meant to be there when you got off work, after being too busy this week between being spider-punk and band stuff to come see his favorite bartender. Hobie grabbed his bag of spare clothes as he shot a web out swinging in the direction of your apartment. 

You didn't make it in time. Currently, standing about two buildings away from your apartment. You were drenched to the bone in rainwater. Luckily you had grabbed one of your heavier-duty bags, so your stuff was safe at least. You took the final steps toward your building before tossing the bag up on the entrance steps making sure it landed under the cover. 

With a deep breath you turned your head up at the sky, eyes closed as raindrops raced down your face, before letting out a scream that turned quickly into laughter. You'd always loved the rain and yeah getting drenched in it wasn't normally how you showed your admiration but it felt like the heavy drops had washed away your stress. A childlike giddiness filled you as you took the chance to just let loose. You lived in a more secluded part of town anyway, not much traffic from people or cars and it was early enough in the evening that the golden orange rays of the setting sun were enough to keep the chill of your bones. Your laughter filled the street as you spun in place dancing to your own beat and jumping in puddles that formed. 

Hobie watched from a few buildings down as you started to dance in the rain. He had taken the chance to change in the nearby alley before making his way to your place. He smiled, quickening his pace as an idea stuck with him. 

“Evening, luv. Don't let me stop you!” He held up his guitar after calling out from about a building away, the setting sun shadowing him in a golden halo. His smile widened as he took in your awe-struck gaze. “ Was just wondering if you'd care for some music to go with your dancing?” 

“Hobie…?” You blinked at him owlishly, rainwater burning your eyes before a big smile broke across your face. You took off in his direction, wincing a bit internally when he threw his guitar to the ground to catch you in his arms. You had one moment to ponder his ability to hold and catch you with such ease before he spun you. A startled gasp leaves your lips before you're laughing, throwing your head back letting the rain kiss your skin as hobie spin you. 

“Hobie, we're gonna fall!” your tone is more amused than worried as you continue to laugh at his show of strength. 

“Don’t worry I’ve got us, luv. If we do go down I'll make sure to…” His laughter mixes with yours just before he slips falling back onto the sidewalk with a grunt, arms never leaving you as makes sure to cushion your fall. 

“Oof, famous last words I guess.” he laughed, onyx eyes shining with joy as he grinned up at you with that boyish charm of his. You laugh with him, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. The rain has slowed to a drizzle and you're sure if you looked up there'd be at least a faint rainbow from the last few rays of sunlight, but instead you lift yourself up slightly, hands caging Hobie’s head as you both stare into each other’s eyes laughter fading to shaky breaths. 

“Falling for me now Hobart? I knew you were a man of action but there are safer ways to show you love me.” You teased winking, mirth-filled gaze taking him in. Your smile had yet to drop as Hobie scoffed feigning offense at your jest.

“Of course. I'm a man of justice and equality after all, so its only fair i fall for you after catching the angel that fell from the heavens for me.” His grin is cheeky as your laughter fills his ears again. 

“That..was..so..corny!” your shoulders shake as your laughter dies down into giggles. Hobie looks up at you like you hung the moon that currently cast you both in a dim light. 

“You're gonna love the next part then…”

“You better not ask if it hurt when I fell from heaven” you interrupted him with a playful glare only causing his grin to grow.

“Of course not i caught you and broke your fall. I was going to ask if an angel like you gave blessed kisses. Been looking for a miracle lately” he winked as you shook your head in disbelief. 

“You're such a dork!” your smile gave away your amusement and if your cheeks warmed from his cheesy flirting…there was no way to tell it wasn't from the constant smiling or the chill from the rain seeping in finally. You lower yourself down arms still caging his head in as your noses brush. 

“A dork who’s getting a taste of the divine” he grins as he leans up lips brushing yours as he speaks.

“Just shut up and kiss me” You roll your eyes as you lean in closing the space between you two. Your lips meet in what starts as a soft kiss, questioning and exploring as both relax into each other. Hobie rolls the two of you over, one hand coming to rest under your head as he deepens the kiss, the smell of rain and Hobie, earth, and leather fills your senses. You pull him to you gripping wet leather as you let out a pleased hum. Hobie smiles against your lips pulling back before leaning in for another kiss, then another, and another, and another before you’re barely kissing just smiling against the other’s lips. 

“Hobie cut it out!” you laugh turning your head away as he goes to kiss you again, only leading to him, kissing your cheek constantly instead. He puffs up his cheeks holding air as he goes to give one last kiss. Blowing it out and pretending to plant one last wet parting kiss. 

“Oh to be separated so soon. When I'd just gotten my taste of heaven” he leans back, hand over his heart as he dramatically sighs.

“Oh shut up Romeo. Let's get inside before we end up sick together and I have to ask you to be my boyfriend over soup and snotty tissue flowers” You laugh as you push him off, standing up and grabbing the guitar he’d tossed aside to catch you earlier. 

You sniffle as you hand it to him. His smile is blinding as he tosses an arm over your shoulder pulling you into his side to warm you up after putting the guitar over his shoulder. 

“I didn't know angels could catch colds. Maybe I should have asked if you enchanted me with devilish charms instead. I am willing to give you whatever you need~” he wiggles his eyebrows with a mischievous smirk as you smack his chest playfully.

[dema-heart]

Week one of Octobie— Comfort Masterlist

Navigation

Octobie 🎸

*if you don't see your work here and want it to be added please tag me in a reblog or tag me in the comment section. Or if you want your work to be removed in the masterlist please don't hesitate to ask.*

Custom banners by @mushroom-graphics-allotment

Hobie fanart by @sareenawails

Knitting Hobie fanart by @the-lilac-notebook

Hobie fanart by @juineri

Candid Hobie fanart by @pleaktale

Hobie and Blobie by @pingledoofus

Hobie fanart by @pleaktale

Sleeping Hobie fanart by @juineri

Octobie fic by @idkbutatleastimcool

Layover by @/the-kr8tor

My Love (Adorn You) by @yumeaoka-chan

Cater To You by @yumeaoka-chan

Octobie life and death fic au by @marukyubi

The beauty standard by @pinksugarscrub

Autumn Shopping by @/the-kr8tor

Late nite kindness by @themossisglowing

Sleepy Quips by @hyperfix-wip

Welcome home by @fanaticmorelikefantastic

We don't know by @itsparis-07

Hobie and R headcanons by @fanaticmorelikefantastic

Molly and Hobie by @pingledoofus

Silkpunk by @viperrf1sh

Oc and Hobie by @januscorner

Hobie x Ophelia fic by @spiderblight

Daily Hobie HC by 🐦‍⬛ anon

Daily Hobie HC day two by 🐦‍⬛ anon

Daily Hobie HC day three by 🐦‍⬛ anon

Daily Hobie HC day four by 🐦‍⬛ anon

*please consider reblogging each work if you liked them!*

[dema-heart]

Rainy Day kisses

Hobie x gn! reader

Short story

Mentions of a undetailed bad week

Hobie lifts reader

No detailed description of reader

kissing and cuteness in the rain

Pet names used: luv, angel, dork, Romeo

AMAZING banners by @mushroom-graphics-allotment (thank you so much! I'll definitely be checking out more of them!)

Event hosted by @the-kr8tor go check out her page!

You were having a bad day, honestly a bad week, but today was the icing on the cake. Sighing you grabbed your bags preparing to make your mopey trek home. You hoped you'd be able to get in contact with Hobie today, he hadn't been to the pub for a while or making himself known at your door, remembering your address after he'd walked you home a few times. He always knew how to cheer you up and the little crush you had on him was only 10 percent of why.  

Shaking your head with a heavy sigh you waved goodbye to your coworkers. The walk to your apartment from the pub wasn't far but with how overcasted the sky was you weren't sure you'd make it home in time to beat the rain and of course, with it being the kind of week it was you had forgotten a jacket. With one last look up at the darkening sky you hurried home. 

Hobie cursed as he watched as you took off, currently standing on the building across the pub you worked at. He’d meant to be there when you got off work, after being too busy this week between being spider-punk and band stuff to come see his favorite bartender. Hobie grabbed his bag of spare clothes as he shot a web out swinging in the direction of your apartment. 

You didn't make it in time. Currently, standing about two buildings away from your apartment. You were drenched to the bone in rainwater. Luckily you had grabbed one of your heavier-duty bags, so your stuff was safe at least. You took the final steps toward your building before tossing the bag up on the entrance steps making sure it landed under the cover. 

With a deep breath you turned your head up at the sky, eyes closed as raindrops raced down your face, before letting out a scream that turned quickly into laughter. You'd always loved the rain and yeah getting drenched in it wasn't normally how you showed your admiration but it felt like the heavy drops had washed away your stress. A childlike giddiness filled you as you took the chance to just let loose. You lived in a more secluded part of town anyway, not much traffic from people or cars and it was early enough in the evening that the golden orange rays of the setting sun were enough to keep the chill of your bones. Your laughter filled the street as you spun in place dancing to your own beat and jumping in puddles that formed. 

Hobie watched from a few buildings down as you started to dance in the rain. He had taken the chance to change in the nearby alley before making his way to your place. He smiled, quickening his pace as an idea stuck with him. 

“Evening, luv. Don't let me stop you!” He held up his guitar after calling out from about a building away, the setting sun shadowing him in a golden halo. His smile widened as he took in your awe-struck gaze. “ Was just wondering if you'd care for some music to go with your dancing?” 

“Hobie…?” You blinked at him owlishly, rainwater burning your eyes before a big smile broke across your face. You took off in his direction, wincing a bit internally when he threw his guitar to the ground to catch you in his arms. You had one moment to ponder his ability to hold and catch you with such ease before he spun you. A startled gasp leaves your lips before you're laughing, throwing your head back letting the rain kiss your skin as hobie spin you. 

“Hobie, we're gonna fall!” your tone is more amused than worried as you continue to laugh at his show of strength. 

“Don’t worry I’ve got us, luv. If we do go down I'll make sure to…” His laughter mixes with yours just before he slips falling back onto the sidewalk with a grunt, arms never leaving you as makes sure to cushion your fall. 

“Oof, famous last words I guess.” he laughed, onyx eyes shining with joy as he grinned up at you with that boyish charm of his. You laugh with him, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. The rain has slowed to a drizzle and you're sure if you looked up there'd be at least a faint rainbow from the last few rays of sunlight, but instead you lift yourself up slightly, hands caging Hobie’s head as you both stare into each other’s eyes laughter fading to shaky breaths. 

“Falling for me now Hobart? I knew you were a man of action but there are safer ways to show you love me.” You teased winking, mirth-filled gaze taking him in. Your smile had yet to drop as Hobie scoffed feigning offense at your jest.

“Of course. I'm a man of justice and equality after all, so its only fair i fall for you after catching the angel that fell from the heavens for me.” His grin is cheeky as your laughter fills his ears again. 

“That..was..so..corny!” your shoulders shake as your laughter dies down into giggles. Hobie looks up at you like you hung the moon that currently cast you both in a dim light. 

“You're gonna love the next part then…”

“You better not ask if it hurt when I fell from heaven” you interrupted him with a playful glare only causing his grin to grow.

“Of course not i caught you and broke your fall. I was going to ask if an angel like you gave blessed kisses. Been looking for a miracle lately” he winked as you shook your head in disbelief. 

“You're such a dork!” your smile gave away your amusement and if your cheeks warmed from his cheesy flirting…there was no way to tell it wasn't from the constant smiling or the chill from the rain seeping in finally. You lower yourself down arms still caging his head in as your noses brush. 

“A dork who’s getting a taste of the divine” he grins as he leans up lips brushing yours as he speaks.

“Just shut up and kiss me” You roll your eyes as you lean in closing the space between you two. Your lips meet in what starts as a soft kiss, questioning and exploring as both relax into each other. Hobie rolls the two of you over, one hand coming to rest under your head as he deepens the kiss, the smell of rain and Hobie, earth, and leather fills your senses. You pull him to you gripping wet leather as you let out a pleased hum. Hobie smiles against your lips pulling back before leaning in for another kiss, then another, and another, and another before you’re barely kissing just smiling against the other’s lips. 

“Hobie cut it out!” you laugh turning your head away as he goes to kiss you again, only leading to him, kissing your cheek constantly instead. He puffs up his cheeks holding air as he goes to give one last kiss. Blowing it out and pretending to plant one last wet parting kiss. 

“Oh to be separated so soon. When I'd just gotten my taste of heaven” he leans back, hand over his heart as he dramatically sighs.

“Oh shut up Romeo. Let's get inside before we end up sick together and I have to ask you to be my boyfriend over soup and snotty tissue flowers” You laugh as you push him off, standing up and grabbing the guitar he’d tossed aside to catch you earlier. 

You sniffle as you hand it to him. His smile is blinding as he tosses an arm over your shoulder pulling you into his side to warm you up after putting the guitar over his shoulder. 

“I didn't know angels could catch colds. Maybe I should have asked if you enchanted me with devilish charms instead. I am willing to give you whatever you need~” he wiggles his eyebrows with a mischievous smirk as you smack his chest playfully.

[dema-heart]

IN SO EXCITED EVERYONE

OCTOBIE '24

Welcome to the very first Octobie where we celebrate our favourite punk spider— Hobie Brown!!

Any kind of fandom work is allowed, whether it's a gif, a banner, fanfic, or fanart, or even an edit, it's absolutely okay as long as the spotlight is on our main guy— Hobie!!

Rules:

🕸️ Hobie x oc, x spidersona, x reader, or x self ship is encouraged for any fandom work!

🕸️ Have an AU in mind? We love to see it!

🕸️ For fics there's no word count limit, go wild! Blurbs, headcanons etc. are also very welcome!

🕸️ Please use the tag #octobie and #octobie + the theme so everyone can see your work! You can also tag me so that I can reblog it and put it in the event masterlist ❤️

🕸️ Strictly no AI use.

🕸️ If your work has NSFW or suggestive content, please label it accordingly.

🕸️ Strictly not allowed: Toxic relationships, Incest, and toxic racist stereotypes.

🕸️ @mushroom-graphics-allotment will post a set of banners for the event, so if you plan to use it for your octobie post please credit her! (I will link the banners here once it's here!)

🕸️ Be kind and encouraging to the participants. Remember to interact with their posts! Reblogs are highly appreciated!

🕸️ And finally, have fun creating! The themes are there as guides, be creative with them! (Themes run from Mondays to Sundays.) Remember we're here to celebrate Hobie! ❤️

(If there's any questions don't be shy to shoot me an ask! This is my very first character event so I'll do my very best at keeping up with all the works and queries. )

Some theme explanations under the cut if you need some help:

🎸 Comfort— Anything that is all fluffy and makes you go aww 🥺

🎸 Anarchy— Anything that has to do with bringing down the system that Hobie himself would be proud of!

🎸 Wild Card— Literally anything goes here! If your voted theme didn't make the cut, this is your chance to showcase them!

🎸 Halloween— Everything that is spooky, creepy and brings shivers down your spine!

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

[dema-heart]

I AM READY 🫶

OCTOBIE '24

The people have spoken!!

Halloween wins at -29.4% followed by comfort at 18.1% and anarchy with 16.6%!!

I will post an official announcement here in a few days, but for now the order of the themes will be:

Week one- Comfort ❤️

Week two- Anarchy 🔥

Week three- Wild card 🃏

Week four- Halloween 🎃

So if you want to get ahead and start on your Octobie work, now's the chance!! I can't wait to see what you guys make! Have fun and thank you all for voting!!

[dema-heart]

VOTE VOTE VOTE

Thank you for voting for the name Octobie! Now for the themes! I've combed through every single suggestion you gave me and categorised all of them into 12 themes.

So what I'm gonna do is post the 12 (right here) and from that 12 the 5 most top voted will move up for another poll until the top 3 wins! (Reasons/ and where I got the themes from your suggestions are listed below the poll/cut. W/ brief descriptions also)

Note: Theme names aren't finalized but the meanings will still be the same. (They'll have a cooler name once they get picked!)

Wondering why there will only be three themes? Well the third week theme is called wild card where anything goes! So if your chosen theme doesn't win you can always wait for the third week of octobie to come around and you can do whatever you want in that week as long as Hobie's in it!

Fantasy— fairy! Hobie, Dragon tamer! Hobie/Dragon rider! Hobie, Mythical creature, Sailor/Pirate! Hobie x deity! R, Time-looped historian! Hobie, fae, Mermaid. (Literally anything to do with the fantasy genre)

Halloween- Cloak Hobie, Witch R & familiar! Hobie, Witch! R and demon! Hobie, accidental summoning, pumpkin, Demon! Hobie and angel! R, death reaper! Hobie and target! R, vampire! R and human Hobie, serial killer! Hobie and detective! R, zombie! Hobie, pirates, thriller! Hobie, (anything spooky or scary!)

Eras swap/ through the decades- Modern! Hobie x 1970s! r, modern au, 1800s, different au Hobies meet and different au readers meet, aged up meet cute (they meet in their 60s), decades, (time is the main gist of it, whether it's hobie through the years or some decade specific scenario)

Music- guitar, record play, music lessons, backstage, concerts, rival bands/musicians, band practice, battle of the bands, (anything that has to do with music!)

Comfort- stray cats, nicknames, arts and crafts, london tings, hate the am (mornings), flowers, cats, snow, cozy/chilling at home, library, favourite au/trope, cottage core, (anything that wakes the butterflies in your stomach or makes you feel the ooeygoeey feeling fluff!)

Anarchy- ACAB, battle vests, protest, punk. (Anything that Hobie would be proud of doing)

Slice of life/ family life- swing date, the twins, first dance, just cozy things, cozy/chilling at home, morning/nighy routine, handsy, date day/night, meet cute, sick day, childhood friends. (Cozy or family related!)

Crossover- villains and/Vs heroes, magical girl! Hobie, tokyo ghoul au, DC Crossover, Hobie meeting batman, android! Hobie and human r, baldur's gate 3 au, hobie and mutant x-men! R, hobie and deadpool!, deadpool! Hobie, gambit! Hobie, ghost rider! hobie, spy family au, nightcrawler! Hobie (whether it's a video game, anime or a different genre of comic, that goes here!)

Medieval- royalty, royal! R and rebel! Hobie, (anything that makes you sing the game of thrones opening lol)

Villain au- black cat! Hobie, deadpool! Hobie, mystique! Hobie, prowler! Hobie x villain! r (evil! Hobie? Evil! Hobie! Or any au pertaining to villainy!)

Movie mashup- scream killer! Hobie and caller! R, freaky friday/body swap, rom-com, will they/won't they?, swan lake au, mad hatter! Hobie, phantom of the opera au, the greatest showman au, avatar au, (general movie au or theatre au)

Runway ready- patches, runway, hair, piercings, braids, dress up/ fashion show, draw in your style. (Fashun!)

[dema-heart]

OH MY GOD

Guys this Halloween fic I'm writing is so scary! 😧

Sneak peek under the cut warning it's very scary!!

[dema-heart]

I have this! I saw it on Twitter not too long ago 😂😂😂

Anyone feel free to join!

Everyone post a random picture from your gallery,this is a tag game yes

@fymo-blogs @the-real-gmail @totally-china @dhampirdreamerz @france-unofficial

[dema-heart]

Hehehehe I love the Soap knows his shit and uses it to be a lil shit troupe. He isn't the youngest to make Sas or on the 141 for no reason. Plus he's well versed in ghostanese😉😂

Just ghost thinking he's a big scary guy and R sees him as the big scary guy that can protect me cause everyone (the rest of the 141) said he was a big softie.(R finds out they were definitely right.)

And he eats up their attention and affection like a man starved (or like a big scary dog)🤭

💀=🥃>🍬?

Simon "ghost" riley x gn! reader

Explicit warning. Mentions of spicy nights spent together. Nothing to deceptive but still.

Bar/pub

Mentions of R being harassed but not shown in story.

Drinks/drinking mentioned

Inspired by my too sweet by hozier brainrot

As always, let me know if I messed up somewhere or something doesn't make sense!

“Ghost” Soap nods, patting the man on the shoulder as he sat across from him. Ghost grunted in greeting, his eyes obviously locked on something.

‘Or someone’ Soap thought as he followed his gaze to you.

You were laughing and chatting away at the bar, Gaz laughing along as you probably told another one of your stories. Everyone around you were in high spirits as they usually were around you, even Price was smiling into his glass shaking his head as you talked.

“Quite the Bonnie lad, aye?” Soap spoke quietly to Ghost knowing no one could hear the two but the man across from him would appreciate the secrecy Johnny watched with an amused smirk as Ghost “flinched”, something only knowing eyes could catch.

“Don’t know what you’re on about Johnny”. Ghost grunted. He knew damn well he’d been caught but he’d be damned if he admitted.

He met soap’s grin and raised brow with a neutral look before his eyes slowly drifted back to you at the sound of another loud bout of laughter and chatter.

This time you met his gaze, your smile somehow brightening more, if that was possible. You gave an enthusiastic wave from behind the bar leaning forward to make sure you were seen, causing a few to turn and look, trying to see who caught your attention.

He was debating on his next move. About to pretend it wasn’t him you were waving at, to save his dignity and cover, but the moment your waving slowed a sheepish smile on your face and doubt in your eyes, his hand lifted before he could stop himself pointing to soap and then himself with a slight tilt of his head as if asking who you were waving at.

Ghost watched as your face lit up again, now assuming he had just thought you were waving at someone else and totally wasn't intentionally ignoring you. You nodded your head, waving again and damn the stares he got for waving back. It was worth it for the giddy look on your face.

‘They’re lucky they're cute…’ Ghost thought to himself as he kicked soap’s shoe under the table when he snickered at his quick save.

Someone must have said something as you turned back to making drinks. Shaking his head, he sighed ignoring Price’s raised eyebrow and Gaz’s knowing smirk.

“Don’t know what you’re on about Johnny… yeah right Lt” Soap mocked his early statement mimicking his voice.

Ghost levels soap with an unimpressed look as he listens to the Scot’s, not so bad, impression of him. With a roll of his eyes he gives his full attention to the man in front of him trying to save face as much as he could after that display. Obviously soap wasn't ready to let it go just yet.

“When’d ya get so close with our lovely bartender, ghostie, no use denying it now we all saw the wave and the cute tilt of your head like a confused pup” Soap chuckles when Ghost’s face only hardens as he tried to remember how he'd ended up in this position anyways.

The whole base had decided to have a night out at a local pub, they all frequented as a well earned reward. It was a larger turn out than expected tonight with word having spread quickly and the rumors of the new bartender at the place making everyone curious,You, being said bartender.

You’d somehow won over most of the people from base with your bright smile, playfulness, and all around shining personality. You told stories or sang as if you owed people a show with every drink but best of all you treated them like regular people, even Ghost, who you’d taken one glance at and told to have a seat so you wouldn’t hurt your neck making eye contact with him.There’d been a playful glint in your eyes and complete lack of fear or judgment when the mask hadn’t come off at the bar.

Ghost felt Soap kick his leg under the table, snapping him back to the present. Before he could scold or snap at the man, he felt someone bump him causing him to snap his head to the side, glare harsh for whoever decided to be bold enough to touch him. He was met with your smiling face, a lack of any fear as his glare immediately dropped.

Many men and women had almost shit themselves from a glare like he sent you and you met it with a teasing smile and amused look. He thought with a huff.

“Thought you boys were always aware of your surroundings. Never thought I’d see the day I scared, The Ghost~” you teased in a singsong voice.

‘You’re far too understanding and they read me like a bloody book. Since when were they so attuned to me?’ He thinks,noticing how you’ve shifted from behind him to beside him so he can see you fully, knowing your approach had put him on edge.

Soap’s snicker across from him pulls him from his thoughts as he huffs, leaning back to glare at the sergeant instead.

You smiled cheekily, holding in your own laughter as you stepped forward to place two glasses on the table. You stumble a bit and Ghost's arm is around your waist in an instance to stabilize you.

You shoot him a grateful although sheepish smile as you place the drinks down, but the arm around your waist doesn’t drop instead tugging you back and you instinctively step back into his space, your arm coming to rest on his shoulder as you lean against him slightly, if Soap notices he says nothing, thankfully too.

It’s not long before Ghost catches himself realizing what he's done but instead of startling he lets your hand on the back of his neck ground him.

Your fingers brush the nape of his neck and he’s reminded of your recent nights together.

The image of you on top of him in the shadows of your room as you smile down at him, as your hands tease and touch all he’s willing to give.

The image of you under him reaching up and locking your hands at his nape to keep him close. Fingers trailing under the mask to touch sensitive skin and messy short blonde hair.

The mornings,you’d get him to stay for just a bit, cuddling up to him and kissing him through the soft balaclava he wears around you. Never bothered, it's the only thing that doesn’t come off.

The tap of your middle finger, twice in a short rhythm. A simple code for ‘all clear’, brings him back to now, to the fact he was very much in public with half the damn base around to see him all cuddled up with the bartender.

“The fucker bothering you gone?” he grunts the response out, lowering the arm at your waist to grab the glass in front of him. Going for nonchalance as he felt the stares of people around.

“yeah..thank you and sorry about that Soap. I come to Ghost when any of the patrons get a bit too… pushy?” You take the chair next to Ghost as you answer Soap’s unasked question as he was looking between you two with a raised brow.

“He'll scare them off or let me stick around until they leave, figuring I'm “taken” or realize they won't win the battle against Ghost ” You mumble the rest of your explanation as you lean forward, laying your head on your hands with a tired sigh.

The answer you gave was a half truth, that was how it started. You came to sit with Ghost once when he came alone for a drink one night.

You'd bought him a refill he hadn't ordered and sat down in the chair next to him, pressing up against him as if he wasn't some random customer at the pub. He'd kept his cool as he read the napkin you had placed down with the drink. The words “creep’s been haggling me, sorry” written on it. You had looked up at him with pleading eyes and a nervous smile, scared he'd turn you down or lash out.

Much to your relief, Ghost had nodded before taking a discreet glance around and clocking the bastard easily enough. He’d then leaned his head against yours, glaring at them and all the others watching you till the creep left, and you went back to the bar.

It'd happened quite a few more times since then, each time breaking down his walls around you as you sought him out. As you saw him as a safe place, a protector. It warmed his heart, and he'd slowly opened up around you. Talking about his days,parts of missions, or maybe the new knife he'd gotten. Random stuff to fill the silence if you weren't talking or needed a break in the times you'd sought him out.

When or how your relationship had changed, neither of you were sure. Teasing jokes and flirty banter just became the norm. He'd quickly adjusted to you being in his space and craved it even after all the times of letting you press up against or holding you so people would leave you alone. He had started walking you home some nights when you worked till close, making sure you got home safe before leaving immediately. You had started taking the later shifts just to spend that extra time with him, but he didn't know. Finally after all the tension and missed chances you'd tugged on his sleeve as he made to leave offering him a late night cup of tea and a place to rest so he didn't have to go all the way to base.

He had nodded before he could catch himself, too mesmerized by your flustered but determined gaze. From there after getting him to stay a few nights, you'd taken the intuitive, climbing into his lap on your couch and asking him if he'd like to spend the night in your room instead of on the couch. To which he agreed eagerly, hands on your waist as he pulled up his balaclava to kiss you. Leading to the first steamy night you two shared together.

Soap nods, saving his questions for later. Instead, he nods towards the drinks on the table.

“What did ya whip up for us today?” Soap smiles easily but Ghost catches how his eyes scan the pub for threats and he’s thankful knowing someone else has your back.

“Right! Soap, I made you a cherry old-fashioned! Made with your favorite type of whiskey, scotch! And for my darling knight in skull amour… with a sweet tooth. I made a vanilla old-fashioned with the finest bourbon this pub could afford and vanilla sugar around the rim.” You sit up with renewed energy excited to tell the two men about the drinks you'd made them. You'd gotten into the habit of experimenting with drinks and flavors and both Soap and Ghost had agreed to trying them everytime. Well Soap had agreed, Ghost wasn't given much of a choice.

“I keep telling you I take my bourbon neat. You're lucky these drinks usually turn out okay” Ghosts huffs, swirling the glass and ignoring Soaps whispered “sweet tooth?”

You smile, eyes lighting up with mischief as you’re called to the bar. Standing up, you watch as he raises his mask, locking you in place with his stare as he takes a sip. He winces at the sweetness, sugar crystals shining on his lip, that he licks away before your impulsive thoughts of doing it yourself become actions.

There’s fire in his normally cold gaze as your eyes follow the way his tongue traces his lip. You copy the action lips and throat suddenly feeling dry. He takes another sip acting like the sugar will kill him, making you roll your eyes, matching his stare with a playful glare.

“Sweet as hell but it ain’t bad. Just not my cup of tea.” Ghost grunts out, the playful look in his eyes not dropping at your glare.

You scoff, shaking your head as you stop behind his chair on your way back to the bar, leaning in, you press yourself against his back as your arms come around to grab the glass.

You can feel him tense under you making you chuckle as you raise the glass to your lips, taking a sip before setting it back down. You hum, a deeply distracting noise, Ghost thinks. Before you turn your head,your breath fanning his ear.

“Just as sweet as you take your morning tea…Lieutenant.” You whisper the words breathily against his ear, rejoicing in the way you can feel his breath stutter before you step back a pleased grin on your face.

“See you boys later, enjoy the drinks. They’re on the house for disturbing your evening. Till next time John…Simon.” With that and a bit more pep in your step, you made your way back to the bar, falling into the rhythm of the busy night as you made drinks and entertained your patrons, leaving both boys flabbergasted at the table.

“Ghost…?” Soap mumbled in question,looking between you at the bar and Ghost.

“Not a word Johnny” He barked as if he was giving an order. He eyed the glass before downing what was left in it, standing up and leaving quickly before soap could ask anymore questions.

[dema-heart]

💀=🥃>🍬?

Simon "ghost" riley x gn! reader

Explicit warning. Mentions of spicy nights spent together. Nothing to deceptive but still.

Bar/pub

Mentions of R being harassed but not shown in story.

Drinks/drinking mentioned

Inspired by my too sweet by hozier brainrot

As always, let me know if I messed up somewhere or something doesn't make sense!

“Ghost” Soap nods, patting the man on the shoulder as he sat across from him. Ghost grunted in greeting, his eyes obviously locked on something.

‘Or someone’ Soap thought as he followed his gaze to you.

You were laughing and chatting away at the bar, Gaz laughing along as you probably told another one of your stories. Everyone around you were in high spirits as they usually were around you, even Price was smiling into his glass shaking his head as you talked.

“Quite the Bonnie lad, aye?” Soap spoke quietly to Ghost knowing no one could hear the two but the man across from him would appreciate the secrecy Johnny watched with an amused smirk as Ghost “flinched”, something only knowing eyes could catch.

“Don’t know what you’re on about Johnny”. Ghost grunted. He knew damn well he’d been caught but he’d be damned if he admitted.

He met soap’s grin and raised brow with a neutral look before his eyes slowly drifted back to you at the sound of another loud bout of laughter and chatter.

This time you met his gaze, your smile somehow brightening more, if that was possible. You gave an enthusiastic wave from behind the bar leaning forward to make sure you were seen, causing a few to turn and look, trying to see who caught your attention.

He was debating on his next move. About to pretend it wasn’t him you were waving at, to save his dignity and cover, but the moment your waving slowed a sheepish smile on your face and doubt in your eyes, his hand lifted before he could stop himself pointing to soap and then himself with a slight tilt of his head as if asking who you were waving at.

Ghost watched as your face lit up again, now assuming he had just thought you were waving at someone else and totally wasn't intentionally ignoring you. You nodded your head, waving again and damn the stares he got for waving back. It was worth it for the giddy look on your face.

‘They’re lucky they're cute…’ Ghost thought to himself as he kicked soap’s shoe under the table when he snickered at his quick save.

Someone must have said something as you turned back to making drinks. Shaking his head, he sighed ignoring Price’s raised eyebrow and Gaz’s knowing smirk.

“Don’t know what you’re on about Johnny… yeah right Lt” Soap mocked his early statement mimicking his voice.

Ghost levels soap with an unimpressed look as he listens to the Scot’s, not so bad, impression of him. With a roll of his eyes he gives his full attention to the man in front of him trying to save face as much as he could after that display. Obviously soap wasn't ready to let it go just yet.

“When’d ya get so close with our lovely bartender, ghostie, no use denying it now we all saw the wave and the cute tilt of your head like a confused pup” Soap chuckles when Ghost’s face only hardens as he tried to remember how he'd ended up in this position anyways.

The whole base had decided to have a night out at a local pub, they all frequented as a well earned reward. It was a larger turn out than expected tonight with word having spread quickly and the rumors of the new bartender at the place making everyone curious,You, being said bartender.

You’d somehow won over most of the people from base with your bright smile, playfulness, and all around shining personality. You told stories or sang as if you owed people a show with every drink but best of all you treated them like regular people, even Ghost, who you’d taken one glance at and told to have a seat so you wouldn’t hurt your neck making eye contact with him.There’d been a playful glint in your eyes and complete lack of fear or judgment when the mask hadn’t come off at the bar.

Ghost felt Soap kick his leg under the table, snapping him back to the present. Before he could scold or snap at the man, he felt someone bump him causing him to snap his head to the side, glare harsh for whoever decided to be bold enough to touch him. He was met with your smiling face, a lack of any fear as his glare immediately dropped.

Many men and women had almost shit themselves from a glare like he sent you and you met it with a teasing smile and amused look. He thought with a huff.

“Thought you boys were always aware of your surroundings. Never thought I’d see the day I scared, The Ghost~” you teased in a singsong voice.

‘You’re far too understanding and they read me like a bloody book. Since when were they so attuned to me?’ He thinks,noticing how you’ve shifted from behind him to beside him so he can see you fully, knowing your approach had put him on edge.

Soap’s snicker across from him pulls him from his thoughts as he huffs, leaning back to glare at the sergeant instead.

You smiled cheekily, holding in your own laughter as you stepped forward to place two glasses on the table. You stumble a bit and Ghost's arm is around your waist in an instance to stabilize you.

You shoot him a grateful although sheepish smile as you place the drinks down, but the arm around your waist doesn’t drop instead tugging you back and you instinctively step back into his space, your arm coming to rest on his shoulder as you lean against him slightly, if Soap notices he says nothing, thankfully too.

It’s not long before Ghost catches himself realizing what he's done but instead of startling he lets your hand on the back of his neck ground him.

Your fingers brush the nape of his neck and he’s reminded of your recent nights together.

The image of you on top of him in the shadows of your room as you smile down at him, as your hands tease and touch all he’s willing to give.

The image of you under him reaching up and locking your hands at his nape to keep him close. Fingers trailing under the mask to touch sensitive skin and messy short blonde hair.

The mornings,you’d get him to stay for just a bit, cuddling up to him and kissing him through the soft balaclava he wears around you. Never bothered, it's the only thing that doesn’t come off.

The tap of your middle finger, twice in a short rhythm. A simple code for ‘all clear’, brings him back to now, to the fact he was very much in public with half the damn base around to see him all cuddled up with the bartender.

“The fucker bothering you gone?” he grunts the response out, lowering the arm at your waist to grab the glass in front of him. Going for nonchalance as he felt the stares of people around.

“yeah..thank you and sorry about that Soap. I come to Ghost when any of the patrons get a bit too… pushy?” You take the chair next to Ghost as you answer Soap’s unasked question as he was looking between you two with a raised brow.

“He'll scare them off or let me stick around until they leave, figuring I'm “taken” or realize they won't win the battle against Ghost ” You mumble the rest of your explanation as you lean forward, laying your head on your hands with a tired sigh.

The answer you gave was a half truth, that was how it started. You came to sit with Ghost once when he came alone for a drink one night.

You'd bought him a refill he hadn't ordered and sat down in the chair next to him, pressing up against him as if he wasn't some random customer at the pub. He'd kept his cool as he read the napkin you had placed down with the drink. The words “creep’s been haggling me, sorry” written on it. You had looked up at him with pleading eyes and a nervous smile, scared he'd turn you down or lash out.

Much to your relief, Ghost had nodded before taking a discreet glance around and clocking the bastard easily enough. He’d then leaned his head against yours, glaring at them and all the others watching you till the creep left, and you went back to the bar.

It'd happened quite a few more times since then, each time breaking down his walls around you as you sought him out. As you saw him as a safe place, a protector. It warmed his heart, and he'd slowly opened up around you. Talking about his days,parts of missions, or maybe the new knife he'd gotten. Random stuff to fill the silence if you weren't talking or needed a break in the times you'd sought him out.

When or how your relationship had changed, neither of you were sure. Teasing jokes and flirty banter just became the norm. He'd quickly adjusted to you being in his space and craved it even after all the times of letting you press up against or holding you so people would leave you alone. He had started walking you home some nights when you worked till close, making sure you got home safe before leaving immediately. You had started taking the later shifts just to spend that extra time with him, but he didn't know. Finally after all the tension and missed chances you'd tugged on his sleeve as he made to leave offering him a late night cup of tea and a place to rest so he didn't have to go all the way to base.

He had nodded before he could catch himself, too mesmerized by your flustered but determined gaze. From there after getting him to stay a few nights, you'd taken the intuitive, climbing into his lap on your couch and asking him if he'd like to spend the night in your room instead of on the couch. To which he agreed eagerly, hands on your waist as he pulled up his balaclava to kiss you. Leading to the first steamy night you two shared together.

Soap nods, saving his questions for later. Instead, he nods towards the drinks on the table.

“What did ya whip up for us today?” Soap smiles easily but Ghost catches how his eyes scan the pub for threats and he’s thankful knowing someone else has your back.

“Right! Soap, I made you a cherry old-fashioned! Made with your favorite type of whiskey, scotch! And for my darling knight in skull amour… with a sweet tooth. I made a vanilla old-fashioned with the finest bourbon this pub could afford and vanilla sugar around the rim.” You sit up with renewed energy excited to tell the two men about the drinks you'd made them. You'd gotten into the habit of experimenting with drinks and flavors and both Soap and Ghost had agreed to trying them everytime. Well Soap had agreed, Ghost wasn't given much of a choice.

“I keep telling you I take my bourbon neat. You're lucky these drinks usually turn out okay” Ghosts huffs, swirling the glass and ignoring Soaps whispered “sweet tooth?”

You smile, eyes lighting up with mischief as you’re called to the bar. Standing up, you watch as he raises his mask, locking you in place with his stare as he takes a sip. He winces at the sweetness, sugar crystals shining on his lip, that he licks away before your impulsive thoughts of doing it yourself become actions.

There’s fire in his normally cold gaze as your eyes follow the way his tongue traces his lip. You copy the action lips and throat suddenly feeling dry. He takes another sip acting like the sugar will kill him, making you roll your eyes, matching his stare with a playful glare.

“Sweet as hell but it ain’t bad. Just not my cup of tea.” Ghost grunts out, the playful look in his eyes not dropping at your glare.

You scoff, shaking your head as you stop behind his chair on your way back to the bar, leaning in, you press yourself against his back as your arms come around to grab the glass.

You can feel him tense under you making you chuckle as you raise the glass to your lips, taking a sip before setting it back down. You hum, a deeply distracting noise, Ghost thinks. Before you turn your head,your breath fanning his ear.

“Just as sweet as you take your morning tea…Lieutenant.” You whisper the words breathily against his ear, rejoicing in the way you can feel his breath stutter before you step back a pleased grin on your face.

“See you boys later, enjoy the drinks. They’re on the house for disturbing your evening. Till next time John…Simon.” With that and a bit more pep in your step, you made your way back to the bar, falling into the rhythm of the busy night as you made drinks and entertained your patrons, leaving both boys flabbergasted at the table.

“Ghost…?” Soap mumbled in question,looking between you at the bar and Ghost.

“Not a word Johnny” He barked as if he was giving an order. He eyed the glass before downing what was left in it, standing up and leaving quickly before soap could ask anymore questions.

[dema-heart]

[dema-heart]

I want kisses 🫠

Hobie is the type of person who'd kiss any bit of his loved one. Shoulders? Kiss. Arm? Kiss. Hands? Kiss. Thighs? Kiss. Back of head? Kiss.

If it's a piece of you he's kissing it.