#Clementine's Bookshelf

[readtheuniverse]

[tiredandkindaoverworked]

DISCLAIMER: There are likely going to be spoilers in these for many games. Proceed at your own risk

I posted about it 2 days ago or smth and then promptly forgot about doing it but here they are:

welcome to

Redacted Gaming HCs

——————————————————————————

• Various members of the Shaw Pack are fans of the Telltale games. Ash and Milo previously played The Wolf Among Us together while in college. They invited David who wasn’t super interested at the time.

• Once a week for a few months, the Shaw Pack would get together and play through The Walking Dead: The Game. Clementine was declared the pack’s baby and by the end of Episode 5, there was not a single dry eye in the house.

• Angel, Baaabe, Sweetheart, and Sam all have a Stardew Valley world together.

-Angel runs that world like a tight ship. I’m talking spreadsheets, notebooks, a chest in every villager’s house with favored items, the whole shebang.

-Baaaabe and Sweetheart go mining together and will sometimes end up accidentally blowing up either one or both of themselves with bombs.

-Sam’s the fisherman. He finds it peaceful, though sometimes his mic picks up his furious clicking. If he’s not fishing, he’s foraging or tending to the crops/animals. He’s always the first one out the door to pet all the animals every day.

• Darlin’s not much of a gamer, but they like watching Sam play with the other mates. On a quieter night when Darlin’ doesn’t have a gig, they’ll shift and lay around on the couch, watching Sam’s little character run around. They let out a little huff of playful fake jealousy every time Sam gives a gift to a villager. This is usually met with a chuckle and head scratches.

• Lovely likes playing indie games. Hades, Hotline Miami, Undertale, Limbo, Hollow Knight, Mouthwashing. Their current fixation is Balatro and right now, they’re playing through Spiritfarer with Vincent. Eventually, they plan to get Vince to play It Takes Two and Split Fiction with them.

• Damien is not much of a gamer, but he is an enjoyer of soulslike games. He’s also a bit of a completionist. So far he’s 100% on Elden Ring, Dark Souls 1&2, and Lies of P. He’s currently playing Sekiro and plans on playing Black Myth: Wukong after finishing Sekiro.

- Huxley once asked Damien why he liked the soulslike games and Damien told him they were relaxing. That was probably the first and only time Hux has ever looked judgmental of him.

• Dear and Freelancer play Schedule 1 together. They frequently delight in giving their products the most unserious names. Freelancer’s the grower/cooker, Dear is the dealer (and also the one who goes around punching cops and then riding away on their skateboard cackling evilly). Without consulting each other, they both inadvertently went with v-neck, jorts, and sandals for character creation and brush out into laughter when they saw each other.

• During Damn Crew hangouts, Gavin once commented on their lack of diversity in games they play. In response to that, Lasko found and purchased an Xbox 360 with Kinect and now game night also come with a delightful Just Dance 2022 portion of the night. You’ve never seen 6 adults lock the fuck in so quickly.

• Speaking of Lasko, now that he’s gotten more confident in himself, that’ll sometimes come out in games, but very specifically, in Overcooked. He makes the gameplan in his head and he’ll assign people to specific positions and make them make plenty of dishes beforehand, knowing the timer doesn’t start until they start serving.

• Hush LOVES the Pokémon Games. He saw Doc’s GBA sitting on a bookshelf and asked them about it one day. Doc spent the rest of the day explaining (read:gushing) the world of Pokémon and teaching him the basics of Pokémon Emerald. Hush’s favorite Gen 3 starter is Mudkip. (Not biased :3)

• David, Christian, and Arden play Apex together. David’s a Bloodhound/Pathfinder player, Christian’s an Octane/Mirage player, and Arden’s a Wraith main.

• Ollie once tried Genshin Impact for 20 minutes and then uninstalled. He didn’t like it. He felt it was too much like Breath of the Wild. He did like Kaeya’s design though.

• Elliott plays the Assassin’s Creed series. He really liked Black Flag and Odyssey. He refuses to engage with the AC fandom because he finds it toxic and annoying and it’s much more enjoyable when he doesn’t have people whining in his ear about how awful it is.

• Lasko once left The Stanley Parable open overnight and came back super late after work to find an achievement he was never expecting to get.

• Anton plays the Sims every so often where he’ll build his and Love’s dream house and has them living together in it.

• If there’s a game with in-depth main character creation, Elliott spends a lot of time trying to recreate Sunshine in those so he can have them with him on his adventures. Sunshine finds it a little weird to see themselves on screen, but they also find it endearing to see how much attention and care Eli puts into it.

• Milo plays scary games even though he hates them because he knows what kind of awful shit Sweetheart sees on a day to day basis and watching him freak out for a couple of hours is fine with him if it gets their mind off things. Sweetheart also gets a little freaked out by these games, but they’re better at hiding it. Milo’s reactions and commentary keeps them cool and grounded.

• Baaabe has a switch and plays the Yakuza games on it when they cuddle with Asher. Ash loves to feel how engrossed they get in the game when they clutch his fur in shock or they actually sit up and show him the screen, going “Babe, can you believe this??” to which he’ll give a sniff of disbelief, even if he doesn’t really know what’s going on.

• Blake plays rhythm games. Or, I guess, played. Not much time for Osu with a very present being in your head.

• Aaron is just a tetris god??? He’s really good at tetris. His 40 line clear is 0:54.

-This isn’t a headcanon, I just feel the need to share this with you guys, I was looking up the WR on 40 line clear to make sure I wasn’t being super egregious about how fast Aaron could clear it and the WR is 13.650 SECONDS? I am a former Tetris enthusiast and that processing speed is absolutely insane to me.

• Dear is the best at Wordle, Connections, and the Crossword. So far, they have a 72 day streak, with Huxley at 41, and Lasko at 39.

• Guy hates horror movies and Honey is ok with them, the same thing happens with video games. However, Guy’s able to handle it a little better when he watches Honey play horror games. He still gets grossed out by all of the gratuitous gore. When Honey began switching up tactics throughout the current game, he questioned why their playstyle was changing so drastically repeatedly and was absolutely horrified to find out that the Xenomorph’s AI learned from how the player played.

• David and Milo hate Back 4 Blood. (;-;) Asher was fine with it, but they just couldn’t get with the deck system and found it too bloated and unmanageable. They enjoyed the simplicity of shoot zombies.

——————————————————————————

If I think of more, I’ll make a part 2, but that’s it for now :D

[carb0n-m0n0xide]

🌟The New Beginning🌟

★P.2, The Man★

P.1, Longing / P.2, The Man / P.3 <soon>

Master post

Everything hurts…

Clementine stirred awake, feeling a change in the atmosphere. Everything around her felt warm and comforting in a physical sense. She stretched her limbs, wincing from the sharp pains surging throughout her sore body. They grew stronger the more she came into consciousness, becoming almost a grounding pain. With a groan, she clutched the ground beneath her, feeling that it wasn't the ground at all. It was a soft fabric, a thick blanket.

“huh…?” she muttered, squinting her eyes open, finding herself to be staring at the dark wooden roof of a small, dimly lit room. But where was she exactly? She should probably find out.

Clementine pulled herself up, holding her breath when pain spread through her limbs down her spine. As the few blankets carefully placed over her rolled off, she found herself restrained. Bandages were bound over the wound on her chest, as well as thickly coated around her right arm into a sling. Maybe whoever held her here cared for her, having wrapped her aching arm and injury. Or maybe this was a trap… maybe Rigel and the council set this up, bringing momentary relief before striking her at her weakest…

She was, after all, contained in a small room, probably locked in there for the trouble she caused with her father… But it was surprisingly comfortable t oher. The bed she sat up in was probably the softest and most soothing thing she had ever experienced. Across from it though, was a small, yet long desk with a few mugs and a lamp, whose light was just enough to provide light without irritating. To the left of the desk was a closed door and a coat hanger in the corner, and in front of the desk was a closed window.

Rain tapped softly against the window, confusing her at first. Because of the closed curtains covering whatever might be outside the building, she couldn't see what might be the cause of the noise from outside. All she knew was that something was persistent in hitting the window, growing louder and faster with each passing moment.

But within the room, there was really one main thing that caught Clementine’s attention; a bookshelf. It was carved intricately with floral details along the sides. And upon each level of that piece of furniture was a variety of items, ranging from books to plants to individual carvings and trinkets. Bears, deer, wolves, animals she knew nothing about, were carved and shaped from what was once a clump of wood. She was fascinated by that small fact, and felt a need to take a closer look.

She took a deep breath and attempted to stand, though failed the first few tries. Not only was pain a contributing factor, but also how her body wasn't used to a setting with such a strong gravitational force. She has not adapted yet, but in due time, she will. So trying once more, she stumbled, gritting her teeth and putting what little strength she had left into gripping the bed frame.

“Finally…” Clementine mumbled, trudging over to the shelf, though pausing every few seconds to relieve the agony of her physical situation. After much struggle, she managed to approach the bookshelf, death-gripping the sides of it to stabilize her weakened stance. It creaked when both hands were set upon it, though stood upright, proving its old age and stability. She sunk further down, putting all her weight on the shelf with a dazed sigh. A grunt of effort escaped her trembling body, aching within the depths of her arms, back, and throbbing head.

She glanced up with a sigh, only able to admire the wooden creations for a split second. From outside the window echoed a loud boom, light flashing through the rain and wind as an explosion would. Lightning had struck several meters from the area, yet it terrified Clementine.

She yelped at the sound, losing her balance from such a frightening experience. She fell back while gripping the carved bookshelf, causing it and all of its items within it to collapse on top of her. 

Footsteps began to approach, slowly thumping louder from the hall besides the room. She felt tears well up in her eyes, fighting the growing urge to burst out crying. She knew Rigel would come at any moment and punish her for yet another mistake, another sin, another wrongdoing and failure that defined her as a weak, useless, worthless being. So she sniffled and shriveled further into the books and carvings over her, finding whatever comfort she might have left in this short amount of time.

From her spot, Clementine heard the door cautiously creak open, then a sigh escaped the lips of an exhausted sounding man. She remained silent still, waiting for the familiar yells and condemning of a deep, frustrated voice… But it never came. Whatever figure was there in the room came closer to her spot in the rubble, and knelt besides the fallen bookshelf. She squinted hard, hoping her halted cries wouldn't push any further than she could hold back.

The shelf was slowly lifted with a grunt from the figure, being revealed to be a man. He was clothed to face the cold weather, and his large frame appeared as an advantage when lifting the shelf off of her. Once setting it aside, he glanced down to her, concerned features hidden behind his mighty beard.

“Are you ok, my dear?” he said, his voice soft and filled with genuine loving kindness, something she never experienced firsthand. The man began to continue, removing some books and wooden sculptures from her, his expression softening into a worrisome smile.

“You shouldn't be up, but remain in bed and rest until you can stand properly.”

Clementine just stared up at the man, her mind failing to register his genuinity. He… wasn't mad at her? He wasn't angry for what she caused? He did not rebuke or punish her for the mess she made? For the things she destroyed?

The man glanced at her, having moved the fallen items from her frail body. She looked almost frightened of him, and he couldn't understand why. He sighed before hesitantly reaching his arm out to her, offering to help her off the floor.

“How about we get you back into bed, then I'll see what I can have for you to eat… Is that alright with ya dear?”

She flinched at his movement, staring at his arm for a moment. Can this man, this stranger really not be upset at her for wreaking havoc? She just wrecked his shelf, his room, and the first thing he does is love her.

Clementine nodded carefully, reaching up for his arm. “I’m sorry…” she muttered, nearly choking on her words while attempting to prevent a sob.

“Don't worry about it my dear,” the man said, making sure to be careful when pulling her up and assisting her back towards the bed.

“I'm far more concerned about you than an old bookshelf.”

Tag list @sunflowerrosy @lwkjsfloating @likeadeadbattery @the-ellia-west @bee-with-a-camera @homelessnerd @bamboozled-08orange @theweirdbox123 @d0rky-0utfits @dixidin @potatoeperson33 @theultimaterewatcher @hg-sweethearts @curious-apricot

[inezrable]

Reorganised my bookshelf. The Gaimans are now next to the Clementine Ford books (and other books about female empowerment)

[carb0n-m0n0xide-backup]

P.1, When Stars Fall / P.2, The Man / P.3, soon

Masterpost here

Everything hurts…

Clementine stirred awake, feeling a change in the atmosphere. Everything around her felt warm and comforting in a physical sense. She stretched her limbs, wincing from the sharp pains surging throughout her sore body. They grew stronger the more she came into consciousness, becoming almost a grounding pain. With a groan, she clutched the ground beneath her, feeling that it wasn't the ground at all. It was a soft fabric, a thick blanket.

“huh…?” she muttered, squinting her eyes open, finding herself to be staring at the dark wooden roof of a small, dimly lit room. But where was she exactly? She should probably find out.

Clementine pulled herself up, holding her breath when pain spread through her limbs down her spine. As the few blankets carefully placed over her rolled off, she found herself restrained. Bandages were bound over the wound on her chest, as well as thickly coated around her right arm into a sling. Maybe whoever held her here cared for her, having wrapped her aching arm and injury. Or maybe this was a trap… maybe Rigel and the council set this up, bringing momentary relief before striking her at her weakest…

She was, after all, contained in a small room, probably locked in there for the trouble she caused with her father… But it was surprisingly comfortable for her. The bed she sat up in was probably the softest and most soothing thing she had ever experienced. Across from it though, was a small, yet long desk with a few mugs and a lamp, whose light was just enough to provide light without irritating. To the left of the desk was a closed door and a coat hanger in the corner, and in front of the desk was a closed window.

Rain tapped softly against the window, confusing her at first. Because of the closed curtains covering whatever might be outside the building, she couldn't see what might be the cause of the noise from outside. All she knew was that something was persistent in hitting the window, growing louder and faster with each passing moment.

But within the room, there was really one main thing that caught Clementine’s attention; a bookshelf. It was carved intricately with floral details along the sides. And upon each level of that piece of furniture was a variety of items, ranging from books to plants to individual carvings and trinkets. Bears, deer, wolves, animals she knew nothing about, were carved and shaped from what was once a clump of wood. She was fascinated by that small fact, and felt a need to take a closer look.

She took a deep breath and attempted to stand, though failed the first few tries. Not only was pain a contributing factor, but also how her body wasn't used to a setting with such a strong gravitational force. She has not adapted yet, but in due time, she will. So trying once more, she stumbled, gritting her teeth and putting what little strength she had left into gripping the bed frame.

“Finally…” Clementine mumbled, trudging over to the shelf, though pausing every few seconds to relieve the agony of her physical situation. After much struggle, she managed to approach the bookshelf, death-gripping the sides of it to stabilize her weakened stance. It creaked when both hands were set upon it, though stood upright, proving its old age and stability. She sunk further down, putting all her weight on the shelf with a dazed sigh. A grunt of effort escaped her trembling body, aching within the depths of her arms, back, and throbbing head.

She glanced up with a sigh, only able to admire the wooden creations for a split second. From outside the window echoed a loud boom, light flashing through the rain and wind as an explosion would. Lightning had struck several meters from the area, yet it terrified Clementine.

She yelped at the sound, losing her balance from such a frightening experience. She fell back while gripping the carved bookshelf, causing it and all of its items within it to collapse on top of her. 

Footsteps began to approach, slowly thumping louder from the hall besides the room. She felt tears well up in her eyes, fighting the growing urge to burst out crying. She knew Rigel would come at any moment and punish her for yet another mistake, another sin, another wrongdoing and failure that defined her as a weak, useless, worthless being. So she sniffled and shriveled further into the books and carvings over her, finding whatever comfort she might have left in this short amount of time.

From her spot, Clementine heard the door cautiously creak open, then a sigh escaped the lips of an exhausted sounding man. She remained silent still, waiting for the familiar yells and condemning of a deep, frustrated voice… But it never came. Whatever figure was there in the room came closer to her spot in the rubble, and knelt besides the fallen bookshelf. She squinted hard, hoping her halted cries wouldn't push any further than she could hold back.

The shelf was slowly lifted with a grunt from the figure, being revealed to be a man. He was clothed to face the cold weather, and his large frame appeared as an advantage when lifting the shelf off of her. Once setting it aside, he glanced down to her, concerned features hidden behind his mighty beard.

“Are you ok, my dear?” he said, his voice soft and filled with genuine loving kindness, something she never experienced firsthand. The man began to continue, removing some books and wooden sculptures from her, his expression softening into a worrisome smile.

“You shouldn't be up, but remain in bed and rest until you can stand properly.”

Clementine just stared up at the man, her mind failing to register his genuinity. He… wasn't mad at her? He wasn't angry for what she caused? He did not rebuke or punish her for the mess she made? For the things she destroyed?

The man glanced at her, having moved the fallen items from her frail body. She looked almost frightened of him, and he couldn't understand why. He sighed before hesitantly reaching his arm out to her, offering to help her off the floor.

“How about we get you back into bed, then I'll see what I can have for you to eat… Is that alright with ya dear?”

She flinched at his movement, staring at his arm for a moment. Can this man, this stranger really not be upset at her for wreaking havoc? She just wrecked his shelf, his room, and the first thing he does is love her.

Clementine nodded carefully, reaching up for his arm. “I’m sorry…” she muttered, nearly choking on her words while attempting to prevent a sob.

“Don't worry about it my dear,” the man said, making sure to be careful when pulling her up and assisting her back towards the bed.

“I'm far more concerned about you than an old bookshelf.”

Tag list @sunflowerrosy @lwkjsfloating @likeadeadbattery @the-ellia-west @bee-with-a-camera @homelessnerd @bamboozled-08orange @theweirdbox123 @d0rky-0utfits @dixidin @potatoeperson33 @theultimaterewatcher @hg-sweethearts @curious-apricot @vesanal @vic-11037

[thegothingtons]

In the meantime in Glimmerbrook.

After Danielle had slept in, her thoughts were spinning. She had never experienced anything so terrible as in the café. The thought of the demon made her shudder and she still felt this all-encompassing coldness deep into her bones. A coldness that meant the death of all life.

Breathing heavily, she touched her necklace, which she had already received as a child from her aunt Clementine. The pendant seemed to warm her fingertips, to soften this terrible feeling in her soul.

She took a deep breath and suddenly a thought occurred to her, without this chain, she would not have survived the attack.

The crystals.

As if in a trance, she went to the bookshelf and looked for the volume on the effect of the different crystals and began to read.

For a few hours, she forgot everything around her. She lost herself completely in her reading.

There were so many crystals, so many different effects that can affect the lives of their wearers.

Finally, she found the crystal that was incorporated into her necklace. Hematite. Sim cannot die if this stone is charged in the moonlight.

That was the solution. Danielle jumped to her feet and began making jewelry with hematite. All those she loved were to get several pieces of jewellery with it.

Meanwhile, Liora was playing with the building blocks in her room. She is sooooo cute. 😍

In the evening, Danielle Nasia read another story. She embellished them and expanded them with stories about magical crystals and their powers.

[oonajaeadira]

Hi Adira!

I come to you today with a selection of questions from the Colbert Questionert:

Apples or oranges?

Have you ever asked someone for their autograph?

What’s your favorite action movie?

KAT!

SUCH QUESTION.

When it comes to apples or oranges, it depends. I hate peeling oranges, so if they're not cut up, I'm lazy and going for the apples. I love the taste of a fresh orange very much and will generally gravitate to orange slices. But, the real kicker is if we come down to orange slices and a damn fine Honey Crisp. I will knock you down for a Honey Crisp. So really, the order is

Honey Crisp apple

Orange slices

Some strains of apple if orange not peeled

Orange.

Shitty apples.

And then, if we're including clementines as an orange, then it's all clementines all the time.

.

I have asked MANY people for their autograph. I used to hang out with some alt rock indie girls and went to many concerts and you weren't really a fan if you didn't hang out at the stage door and talk to the band. I have many stories.

And, of course, I have a whole section of my bookshelf that's just full of signed books. Lev Grossman (The Magicians), Audrey Neffenegger (Time Traveler's Wife), Erin Morgenstern (Night Circus--I had a very meaningful exchange with her actually), "Lemony Snicket" (that was actually a fun time), Laura Tempest Zakroff and I had a love connection over my gushing over her sigil book, and I think I have at least three books signed by Caitlen Doughty of "Ask a Mortician" and Order of the Good Death fame because she's fkn amazing.

A few of my tarot decks are signed too. Mostly because I reached out by email and asked for it personally before they were sent out.

But my favorite was asking Harvey Pekar for his autograph. For those who don't know, Harvey was a comic book writer of American Spendor. (Paul Giamatti played him in the movie of the same name.) He's also famous for being a grumptastic crumudgeon. He came to the Minneapolis book fair to speak about his career and I took my then-boyfriend Tony to go see his presentation as a surprise birfday gift. Well, Tony bought about five of Harvey's books and wanted to get them signed so we waited in a long line. When we finally got up there, Havey got more and more exasperated with every book Tony pulled out of the bag. At the end he just grumbled, "Jeez. Got any more?" And Tony smiled and shook his head, happy to be getting the grumpy treatment that Harvey was known to give. Then Harvey turns to me and says, "What about you?" And since I was impulsive and he was asking, I literally hoisted my leg up on the table and said, "You wanna sign my PANTS???" And you know what? He did. He rolled his eyes and tried not to smile, but that man took a sharpie to my leg and put his name on my jeans. Those were my Pekar Pants and every time I washed them I went over the sharpie again. I wore those pants until they split in the ass. I should have kept the signature part, but I didn't (it was really faded), and that's okay. The memory's pretty good.

RIP, Harvey. <3

.

My favorite action movie is the Guy Ritchie/RDJ version of Sherlock Holmes. I will still put that sucker on repeat when I'm sick and just need something playing when I'm coming in and out of sleep. I love love love anything dealing with Sherlock Holmes and RDJ is so pretty and Mark Strong is terrifying and the soundtrack is amazing and the cinematography is fkn bomb and the overall design is fantastic...

The sequel was fine. Do I need a third one? No. Will I devour it anyway? Fk yes.

[loveshard]

[ 23. ] sender playfully steals something from receiver, initiating a chase. "come and get it, then." / willow & clementine!

a yellow sunrise [mixed actions ask prompt]

"Come and get it, then." Willow didn’t need to be told twice. The old, slightly worn deck of tarot cards was her favorite, one she’d had since high school. Found in a metaphysical shop in Portland. She barely allowed her own family to touch them, all in the name of bad juju. She was already kicking off her platform sandals, tossing them somewhere underneath the coffee table. The rug felt cool under her feet as she darted after them, arms reaching out, fingers wiggling, ready to snatch back her prized possession. "Clem, you absolute menace! I will hex you if you bend a single card!"

The cramped apartment became an obstacle course—around the sofa, past the cluttered bookshelf, over the throw pillows strewn across the floor. Willow laughed too hard to chase Clementine properly, arms flailing more than reaching, breath coming fast in bursts that felt good in her chest. "You’re gonna mess up the energy of the deck! I’m serious! My aura is gonna be all janked for weeks!" Willow dashed past the bookshelf, knocking a stack of vintage horror novels to the floor, and skidded around the arm of the velvet loveseat before she felt the air get knocked out of her. She will openly admit, time and time again, that the Iversons were not built for cardio.

Willow stopped, bracing her palms on her knees, heart pounding more from the fun of it than the exertion. Her cheeks were flushed pink, her eyes bright with the kind of pure, ridiculous joy that only came from moments like this. "Okay, okay. Fine," she relented with a huff, throwing herself onto the couch. "Please, my dearest, sweetest, most terrible friend, can I have my deck back before you smudge the energy with your greasy little fingers?"

[carb0n-coated-manuscripts]

TNB: The Man

Masterlist

Everything hurts…

Clementine stirred awake, feeling a change in the atmosphere. Everything around her felt warm and comforting in a physical sense. She stretched her limbs, wincing from the sharp pains surging throughout her sore body. They grew stronger the more she came into consciousness, becoming almost a grounding pain. With a groan, she clutched the ground beneath her, feeling that it wasn't the ground at all. It was a soft fabric, a thick blanket.

“huh…?” she muttered, squinting her eyes open, finding herself to be staring at the dark wooden roof of a small, dimly lit room. But where was she exactly? She should probably find out.

Clementine pulled herself up, holding her breath when pain spread through her limbs down her spine. As the few blankets carefully placed over her rolled off, she found herself restrained. Bandages were bound over the wound on her chest, as well as thickly coated around her right arm into a sling. Maybe whoever held her here cared for her, having wrapped her aching arm and injury. Or maybe this was a trap… maybe Rigel and the council set this up, bringing momentary relief before striking her at her weakest…

She was, after all, contained in a small room, probably locked in there for the trouble she caused with her father… But it was surprisingly comfortable for her. The bed she sat up in was probably the softest and most soothing thing she had ever experienced. Across from it though, was a small, yet long desk with a few mugs and a lamp, whose light was just enough to provide light without irritating. To the left of the desk was a closed door and a coat hanger in the corner, and in front of the desk was a closed window.

Rain tapped softly against the window, confusing her at first. Because of the closed curtains covering whatever might be outside the building, she couldn't see what might be the cause of the noise from outside. All she knew was that something was persistent in hitting the window, growing louder and faster with each passing moment.

But within the room, there was really one main thing that caught Clementine’s attention; a bookshelf. It was carved intricately with floral details along the sides. And upon each level of that piece of furniture was a variety of items, ranging from books to plants to individual carvings and trinkets. Bears, deer, wolves, animals she knew nothing about, were carved and shaped from what was once a clump of wood. She was fascinated by that small fact, and felt a need to take a closer look.

She took a deep breath and attempted to stand, though failed the first few tries. Not only was pain a contributing factor, but also how her body wasn't used to a setting with such a strong gravitational force. She has not adapted yet, but in due time, she will. So trying once more, she stumbled, gritting her teeth and putting what little strength she had left into gripping the bed frame.

“Finally…” Clementine mumbled, trudging over to the shelf, though pausing every few seconds to relieve the agony of her physical situation. After much struggle, she managed to approach the bookshelf, death-gripping the sides of it to stabilize her weakened stance. It creaked when both hands were set upon it, though stood upright, proving its old age and stability. She sunk further down, putting all her weight on the shelf with a dazed sigh. A grunt of effort escaped her trembling body, aching within the depths of her arms, back, and throbbing head.

She glanced up with a sigh, only able to admire the wooden creations for a split second. From outside the window echoed a loud boom, light flashing through the rain and wind as an explosion would. Lightning had struck several meters from the area, yet it terrified Clementine.

She yelped at the sound, losing her balance from such a frightening experience. She fell back while gripping the carved bookshelf, causing it and all of its items within it to collapse on top of her. 

Footsteps began to approach, slowly thumping louder from the hall besides the room. She felt tears well up in her eyes, fighting the growing urge to burst out crying. She knew Rigel would come at any moment and punish her for yet another mistake, another sin, another wrongdoing and failure that defined her as a weak, useless, worthless being. So she sniffled and shriveled further into the books and carvings over her, finding whatever comfort she might have left in this short amount of time.

From her spot, Clementine heard the door cautiously creak open, then a sigh escaped the lips of an exhausted sounding man. She remained silent still, waiting for the familiar yells and condemning of a deep, frustrated voice… But it never came. Whatever figure was there in the room came closer to her spot in the rubble, and knelt besides the fallen bookshelf. She squinted hard, hoping her halted cries wouldn't push any further than she could hold back.

The shelf was slowly lifted with a grunt from the figure, being revealed to be a man. He was clothed to face the cold weather, and his large frame appeared as an advantage when lifting the shelf off of her. Once setting it aside, he glanced down to her, concerned features hidden behind his mighty beard.

“Are you ok, my dear?” he said, his voice soft and filled with genuine loving kindness, something she never experienced firsthand. The man began to continue, removing some books and wooden sculptures from her, his expression softening into a worrisome smile.

“You shouldn't be up, but remain in bed and rest until you can stand properly.”

Clementine just stared up at the man, her mind failing to register his genuinity. He… wasn't mad at her? He wasn't angry for what she caused? He did not rebuke or punish her for the mess she made? For the things she destroyed?

The man glanced at her, having moved the fallen items from her frail body. She looked almost frightened of him, and he couldn't understand why. He sighed before hesitantly reaching his arm out to her, offering to help her off the floor.

“How about we get you back into bed, then I'll see what I can have for you to eat… Is that alright with ya dear?”

She flinched at his movement, staring at his arm for a moment. Can this man, this stranger really not be upset at her for wreaking havoc? She just wrecked his shelf, his room, and the first thing he does is love her.

Clementine nodded carefully, reaching up for his arm. “I’m sorry…” she muttered, nearly choking on her words while attempting to prevent a sob.

“Don't worry about it my dear,” the man said, making sure to be careful when pulling her up and assisting her back towards the bed.

“I'm far more concerned about you than an old bookshelf.”

[alindseypa]

💐 💍 A Bride for Lucas 💍 💐

The Proxy Brides book 80

Clementine longed for a family of her own all her young life, but from living in the streets to being on the orphan train she had learned not to dream for too much. As a servant for a wealthy lady she kept to herself, did her work, and longed to find her brothers that had been torn away from her five years earlier. One afternoon, she was informed without warning that she would be leaving to marry a man she did not know and, once again, she was that terrified little girl from the streets, except this time the orphan train was not taking her away to someplace safer. Or was it?

Lucas dropped out of everyday life from a broken heart, but his mother would not allow it. She ordered him to step back into his role as the heir of his grandfather's beloved ranch or she would take it all away. He ignored her demand; he did not believe she would actually enforce anything. However, when he pushed her too far she was forced to deliver the final ultimatum. He was to marry the proxy bride she had acquired for him and he would wed that day.

https://a.co/d/acem2F0

#FarrahLee #Romance #CleanRomance #HistoricalRomance #MustRead #Read #bookshelf #TBR #KU #Kindle #kindleunlimited #FarrahLeeBooks #Bookworm #ReadThis

[elf--shot]

ok. positive things time.

i finished reading the first volume of anthony yu’s translation of journey to the west today and it was really good

i had a nice conversation with the lady who works at the used bookstore

i got several books at the used bookstore that i’d been looking for for a while

very soon i will get to do the fun thing where i put peel and stick wallpaper on the backing of a bookshelf before i put it together, and then put it together

very soon i will get to stain most of and paint the rest of a shelving set and then put that together

very soon i will get to plan a closet layout

very soon i will get to put up pictures with my brother

it was less hot today than i had thought it might be

i have some clementine sodas in my fridge and i can go drink one and play zelda for a while tonight and then maybe read my book about miniatures again

[tetheredl1stener]

“Oh, the new person in town?” Astrid echoes, voice light but distant. “Yeah, I’ve seen them around.” Her gaze drifts away as Clem changes, her mind wandering towards the bizarre sight of the teeth in the vigil. “Are we even sure it wasn’t a prank?” She asks. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but... if this had happened a month ago, I’d have put money on you and Eliza.” Her face remains expressionless. Eliza is a subject seldom touched by the two, so always carefully thread around.

As she hears Clementine’s reason for the visit, Astrid takes a beat. The invitation she’d made, casual at the time, whispered on a night when her loneliness had slipped its leash, suddenly felt like a mistake. She hadn’t meant for Clementine to take her up on it. She forces a small nod, eyes flicking toward the adjoining room just beyond the living room. A soft blue light spills from the cracked door, casting a low glow on the wooden floor. From inside, the quiet burble of the fish tank hums like a secret being kept. The room waited, dim and strange, holding its breath.

“Of course.” Astrid swallows hard, forcing a small, tight smile. “Just... make yourself comfortable. And I’ll need a beer to get through this.” Her voice comes out thinner than she means, stretched between guilt and nerves.

Before Clementine can respond, she turns on her heel and disappears into the room. Her fingers move with practiced certainty, pulling open the cabinet at the base of the bookshelf. The old box was right where it had always been. Tucked behind a stack of blank cassette cases and a crocheted throw that still smelled faintly of mothballs and her grandmother’s perfume. Sloppily hidden, as if Mei had wanted her to find it all those years ago.

Astrid grabs the old radio player, the same one Mei used to bring outside when gardening, and rejoins Clementine in the living room, sitting cross-legged on the floor. She sets the radio on the table and the box between them, like a fragile offering.

“Please don’t judge my grandmother too harshly,” she murmurs, fingers already sifting through the tapes, all labelled with a clean and practiced handwriting. “She was... intense. A bit of a helicopter mom, sure, but she meant well. Just… don’t tell anyone about these, okay? People in this town would lose their minds if they knew they were being recorded, and really it was just my mother and… people my grandmother couldn’t stand.” A faint, crooked smirk tugs at her lips.

She lays out three tapes in front of Clementine, each one bearing her father’s name in that unmistakable cursive.

Astrid takes a long swig of beer and exhales slowly. “So... ready?” She holds up one of the tapes. “Chronological order?”

                “I could’ve called,” Clementine echoes, nodding, as Dio barges through to grace Astrid with his slobbering tongue and tufts of wet fur. She’s seen Astrid waver, unsure of how to interact with him and almost flinch as though she might get bitten. But she’s been getting used to him. Clementine smiles then puckers her lips, making kissing noises that turn Dio’s attention to her as Astrid turns around and rushes deeper into the house. He sits, and Clementine kicks mud off her boots before stepping inside. The indoor warmth soothes her, but suffocates quickly. While Astrid rummages around somewhere, Clementine sheds her coat and her flannel shirt, and when Astrid asks her to take off her shoes, she kicks her boots off, too. 

       “Oh, don’t worry. I found someone to interface with the chickens. Have you met them?” She lowers the pack of beers to the floor and throws the towel over her head, drying her hair with no regard for her tousled appearance when she reemerges. “Rolled into town on a beaten up thing and got stuck here. Aubrey. And not really good with chickens.” 

Clementine notes the bundle of dry clothes and feels a little guilty. She’s not used to being on the receiving end of such polite accommodation, of such considerations— especially when she’s drunk— but she tries to acclimate. “Oh— It’s—... A towel was enough,” Clementine lets it fall around her shoulders before she crouches down with the second one to dry Dio with it. He licks her face. Clementine elbows him a little before he lies down, and on her way to stand up, she grabs her half-empty can of beer and takes a swing. 

       “Thanks, though, I’ll… change?” Clementine steps over, self-conscious about Astrid’s gaze on her. Her words land a little flat, and Clementine nods with pursed lips. Gnarly is one way of putting it. With a sigh, she reaches out and takes the dry set. “I mean, yeah.” The silence stretches on for a while longer as she examines the fit and nearly spills her beer. She does accidentally drop the sweatpants. “Whoever left the teeth there—” her jaw clenches. She feels the knot in her stomach as she leans down to pick them up. Clementine avoids eye-contact; she’s disturbed not only on behalf of the whole... fucked up situation with Eliza, but with what she saw on her phone. That unmistakable face. “—Fuck, I don’t even know. Can you even arrest someone for that?” 

She drains the rest of her beer before crushing the can around her fingers, filling the room with a rapid series of short, metallic sounds as the aluminum bends against the pressure. Clementine exhales, then finally announces the reason for her visit: “Oh and, by the way— before you think I’m just here to fuck up your night,” she looks at Astrid. “I’m— actually, well, maybe—... but no. I remembered the tapes you mentioned once, and I thought, really, that there’s no harm in listening to them,” her words are laced with doubt. She’s not sure who she’s trying to convince. “Do you still have them?”

[reverencedesk]

Hilary Pecis, Clementine’s Bookshelf, 2021.

[imperativesentience]

Hilary Pecis, Clementine’s Bookshelf, 2021

[noirwideaux24]

“The children have very different schedules but they must be adhered to. Since they’re on summer vacation I have the older children learning to weave and spin. Shizuko is a very intelligent girl and is a prodigy on the violin so 5th grade books should provide an adequate challenge for her. Hikari is a sweet vibrant girl and she absolutely adores bunnies. She does have dyspraxia which makes it a little difficult to do things like tie her shoes but we have her practice on one of her toys and take her to OT every other Tuesday. Elias has OCD and hypochondria so he likes to have things a certain way or he gets very upset and he will make himself anxious to the point where he feels ill. Ask him what kind of pain he’s feeling or where it is and if it’s serious then Hotaru’s number is by the phone. My neice Axle is away at summer camp so keep an eye on the letterbox in case she writes. Aurelia has trichotillomania meaning she feels the urge to pull out her hair and the hair of her dolls so she wears wigs to combat this. Belle has a developmental disability so she needs her walker to get around but she will leave the walker and army crawl to her father. The babies have separate nurseries that connected by a bookshelf door since Clementine and Victor love the darkness and the macabre but Valentine is more of a pastel goth. We still love her she just has different tastes.”

Noir is currently looking for a nanny to help with the babies

The kids giggled and cooed playfully wanting to see the nanny

[ssuperficialspacecadett]

Clementine Kisses

Chapter Seven of the Through the Scope Series | Chapter Eight

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.8K

Chapter Overview: You wake up in a strange bedroom and investigate

TW: smut !! oral (f receiving), f in v, p in v, depictions of breasts but without their size

Notes: now i know this isnt a gif of frankie, but i am the law of the land and i want to use it. okay LMAO we finally made it to the smut hehe i mean i feel like yall knew this was coming tbh,, i havent written it in a while so i might be a bit rusty, but im still pleased with how it turned out. its just so much fun to write. as usual ... my asks are always open & happy reading <3 (oh and listen to lemon boy by cavetown bc it was on repeat while i wrote this chapter)

*no use of y/n & female presenting reader*

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Your head is spinning, but your body is so comfortable. When did your shitty mattress get this soft? Without even having to open your eyes you can tell that the sun is up. You must have forgotten to close the blinds when you got home last night. Wait a second…you don’t remember coming home. Still choosing to keep your eyes shut for fear of seeing a stranger next to you in bed, you hoist the covers up and over your head. Maybe if you just pretend you didn’t do anything stupid last night it will become a reality. 

You inhale deeply, slightly wincing at the throbbing in your head, and your eyes pop open. It may be pitch black under the sheets, but you are starting to see things more clearly. You know this smell. It’s a smell that has haunted the deepest corners of your mind since you first encountered it. Since you first encountered him. It’s musky, but not in a dirty way. It fills your nose and soothes the anxiety you felt creeping its way into your belly. You breathe in deeply again. There were subtle hits of…tire rubber? Well he works in an auto body shop so that checks out.

You decide to hold your breath to see if you can hear anyone breathing softly beside you. A few seconds go by with the only sound being the steady beat of your heart. Hoping that you correctly assumed that you’re alone, you peel back the covers to reveal a foreign sun lit room. You look beside you and breathe a sigh of relief when you see that the right side of the bed has been left undisturbed. As much as you wanted to have sex with him, that was definitely something you wanted to remember. Using your elbows as support, you scoot your body into a sitting position and lean your back against his headboard. Looking at the nightstand beside the bed, you see three things: a glass full of water, two tylenol pills, and a small slip of paper. Without thinking twice you pop the painkillers in your mouth and chase them down with the now room temperature water. Nothing has ever tasted so refreshing. You trade the empty glass for the piece of paper. Aloud you read what it says.

You fell asleep in the truck. I’ll explain everything in the morning. On the couch if you need me. -Frankie

He had drawn a little smiley face next to his name. You laugh quietly to yourself as you set the note back down on the small table. Looking down you see your shoes neatly placed in front of it. There is a shirt you don’t recognize folded and carefully placed on top of them. You reach down and unfold it in your lap. 

“Hmm.” You run your fingers over the faded design on the front of it. “Fleetwood Mac. You have good taste in music, Frankie.” 

After giving the room one final once over to make sure no one is inside you shimmy out of yesterday's shirt and bra and dawn the one left out for you. Then you throw the rest of the covers back, climb out of bed, and take off your jeans. It wasn’t your fault he didn’t have any shorts for you. His shirt comes to rest a few inches above your knees as you start quietly tiptoeing around his room. You know snooping is wrong, but you just can’t help yourself. Your still socked feet guide you over to a thin, vertical bookshelf that sits directly in front of the side of the bed that you slept on. Dust has started to collect on the shelves and the books themselves. You run your fingers across the spines of them until you see one that peaks your interest. 

“What do we have here, Frankie? A Helicopter flying handbook?” 

You slide the heavy duty book from its seemingly perpetual resting place and crack it open. A lot of the pages are dog-eared and highlighted to high heaven. You close it and set it back where you found it. As you look closer you see that the majority of the books he has relate to helicopters, aviation, and the mechanics of flying aircrafts. A pang of sadness and realization shoots through you as you realize that you know so little about him. You know so little about what he did when he was on missions, fuck, you didn’t even know that he knew how to fly. But you want to. You want to know everything there is to know about him whether it be big or small or beautiful or ugly.

Moving over to his dresser, curiosity building, you see a group photo. You pick it up and you mentally name Frankie, Santi, Will, Benny, and who’s that? A gruff looking man smiles and has his arm around your coworker. He appears older than the other men he’s standing with. You’ve never met him or even heard the guys talk about him before. Right as your mind starts to pick apart who the fifth man in the photo could be, the sun reflects off something else on the dresser and catches your eye. You set the photo down and look for the culprit. When you find it, you feel your knees get weak. Sitting on top of a familiar looking post-it note there is a beer bottle cap. You gasp to yourself as you pick it up. This must have been the cap of the beer that he opened for you when you attended the fights with him. You thought you had seen him slip it into his pocket, but you figured that it was just because that was an easier alternative than leaving to throw it away. He saved it as a memento and kept it by your number. Two things that another man would consider trash, he kept and cherished. 

The smell of coffee tickles your nose and you can hear faint clanging coming from the kitchen. You decide that you have been hiding and snooping long enough, so you set the cap down and make your way to the door. The room you were in appears to be on the left side of the hallway. You walk quietly down the hall and notice that the walls are barren. The noises get louder as you close the space between yourself and the kitchen. His house’s layout makes you walk through the living room, which has the front door, before you reach the kitchen. There’s no door when you approach so you’re able to see Frankie engrossed in his task. Well, his back to be more precise. He has on a tired looking t-shirt and some boxers. One side of his hair is sticking up in a way that causes you to stifle a laugh. For a man that slept on the couch last night, he seems to be quite chipper. His low humming only makes that fact more apparent. You get comfortable by leaning against the shared living room and kitchen wall, but it’s short lived. The man in front of you turns around and bursts both of y’alls bubbles of ignorant bliss. 

“Oh!” He’s holding a mug in each hand. “Good morning! Or I guess it’s technically the afternoon now.”

“Good morning to you too.” You follow him when he beckons you to join him at the kitchen table. “So…do I want to know how I ended up here?” 

Frankie watches as you sit down across from him at the table in his shirt. If he’s being honest it makes his cock twitch to see you like this. He is in awe at how beautiful you look after waking up. Sure, your hair is wilder and your mascara is smudged, but fuck if you aren’t a breath of fresh air. He finds himself getting irrationally jealous that his bed was the one that got to hold you while you slept. He wanted to wake up to that face in the morning. Every morning.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He slides a mug over to you and scratches the back of his head.

“If waking up in the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in and then being greeted by a cup of coffee is bad, then I don’t ever want to end up in a good looking situation again.” 

His shoulders relax when you say this, as if he was anxiously waiting to see how you would react to the situation. “Well, Pope and I tried to drop you off at your apartment, but you didn’t have your house keys in your tote. So, this was the next best option.”

“Oh my God! I knew it seemed lighter than usual when I left the gym! Damn, Benny for rushing me last night.” 

“Your bag is over on the entryway table if you want it. It’s got your phone.”

“No, I’m alright.” You say before sipping your drink. “I’m in good company.” 

He looks at you bashfully before indulging in his own cup of coffee. You take the cozy silence as an opportunity to look around his kitchen. It’s oddly reminiscent of yours. No art, no decorations. Save for a small basket of fruit on his counter. The only room that has given you a glimpse into his mind has been his room. 

“Did you,” He follows your eyes. “Did you want an orange? I can never get around to eating them in time and it would be a shame for them to go to waste.”

“How about we share one? I’ve never been very hungry when I first wake up, but I’ll make an exception.” 

He stands just enough to give himself the extra length to reach the fruit. You take it from him when he offers it and start peeling. When you finish, you split it in half and offer one side to him. 

“I told you that you enjoy taking care of people last night.” You eat one of your citrus slices. 

He tries to look nonchalant as he mirrors your actions. “Maybe there is some sense to all that star stuff you like. Tal vez eres una estrella.”

“And what makes you think I’m a star?” Your stomach feels like it's made of knots. 

“Well…you have this brightness about you.” You can see it in his eyes that he’s struggling with telling you what he's thinking. Not because he doesn’t want to say it, but because he doesn’t know how to. “I seem to see you most often after the sun has already gone down, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know that you’re there when the sun is still up. Sometimes, I get lucky enough to see you during the day.” 

You breathe in a shaky breath as he presses forward in his explanation. 

“I find myself getting sucked into your gravitational pull whenever I’m around you.” 

Both of you have unconsciously started to lean towards each other.

“And you’re…”

“I’m what, Frankie?”

“You’re beautiful.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” It comes out shakier than you intend.

His eyes crinkle at the corners when he hears your reaction to his confession. “I’ve been in awe of you from the moment I met you and every moment after, mi estrella.” 

“My star.” You repeat what he just called you in spanish. You have to do something to distract from the intense feeling of bawling that suddenly consumes you. 

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” He stands up and cups your face in his hands.

“Say you mean it.” You say looking at him.

His deep pools of chestnut trace your face as he stares back at you. “I mean it, mi estrella. Every syllable.”

You stand, his hands still in place, and kiss him. You finally kiss him. There is no way that you could have waited any longer. His lips mold with yours hungrily. As he opens his mouth to you, you can taste coffee and sweet oranges. You can’t help but moan into him when he slides his hands down your body to cup your ass and pull you tight against him. His teeth catch your bottom lip and pull on it gently. He groans when your own hands snake their way up his chest and wrap around his neck. You intertwine your fingers in his thick curls, grateful that you now have unbridled access to them without his cap.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you.” His chest heaves against your body and you can feel him hardening against your bare leg.

You open your mouth for him again and tilt your head so you can deepen the kiss. His tongue explores your mouth and you eagerly let him. The sounds he’s making while he palms your ass are sinful. You feel yourself clench around nothing at the thought of the sounds he will make while he fucks you. He scoops you off the ground and your legs wrap around his waist as he sets you down on the table. The cool wood sends a shiver through your body that makes him smile against your lips. 

“I don’t think I can make it to the bedroom.” He sounds like he's in pain. 

“That makes two of us.” You gasp as he starts to work his way down your neck.

Desperate to quell the growing ache in between your legs you grind your core against him and feel him shutter.

“You want this just as badly as I do, huh?” His breath is hot against your skin.

“I want it so bad.” You bring his face back up to yours and sloppily kiss him. “It’s all I can think about.”

His hand answers your prayers when he starts to rub circles on you through your underwear. He swallows your wanton cries with his mouth. You feel him laugh against you and you already know the cause of it.

“You’re so wet for me and I’ve barely laid a finger on you, cariño. How is that?”

He slides your underwear to the side and easily slides in a finger. You have to lay your head on his shoulder as he curves it up inside you and hits that sweet spot.

“I would have-” Your breath is stolen for a moment when one finger hastily becomes two. “I would have let you do this to me at the bar. Would have let you make me come with your fingers while everyone sat around us.” 

“Fuck.” He whines into your hair. “You’re so filthy. Not caring who’s around or who could see what I’m doing to this sweet pussy.” He removes his fingers from inside of you and you whimper at the loss. You watch, mystified, as he places them in his mouth and licks each one clean with greed. “Lay back for me. I need to taste the real thing.”

His eyes are glazed over with lust right now. The ache in between your legs is so painful and you are desperate for reprieve. You immediately do as he asks and lay your back down on the kitchen table. You take the liberty of lifting your shirt up and exposing your breasts to him. The way he is looking at you makes you feel like you’re the only woman in the world. His eyes wash over your body and you can’t help but squirm underneath his gaze. He leans down and takes one of them in his mouth while he forcefully cups the other. Your back arches when he catches your nipple between his teeth. Never one to neglect, he works his mouth to the other one before he trails his lips agonizingly slow down your body. He peppers kisses right above the start of your underwear and you can’t help but buck your hips up towards him. 

“Patience is a virtue.” He chides looking up at you through hooded lids.

“Please, Frankie.” You plead with him. You hope he can see how badly you're hurting. “Please, touch me. I can’t wait anymore.” 

He smiles to himself as he shifts his attention to what's right in front of him. His thumbs hook into the fabric and he slowly starts to pull them down.

Ding Dong! Ding Dong!

You both freeze and hold your breath to see if the sound was imagined. When its unholy ringing comes again, he rests his forehead on your stomach.

“I’m going to kill them. I’m legitimately going to fucking kill them.” His beard tickles your skin as he speaks. 

“Who-who is it?” You’re trying to catch your breath.

“The guys.” He doesn’t move his head from where he laid it to rest. “They are here to watch the basketball game.”

“Open up, Fish!” Benny yells as he raps on the door. “I know you’re in there, you bastard! Your truck is in the driveway!”

Frankie all but growls as he pulls your underwear back up and helps you sit up straight. If you didn’t know any better you’d think that Benny’s a dead man. You reluctantly hop off the table as Frankie tells them he will be there in a minute. 

“Why don’t I answer it?” You gesture down to his now very strained shorts. “You can change while I handle them.” 

“Oh fuck me.” He rolls his head back.

“That’s what I was trying to do! Now go, go!” 

You push him towards his room and start to head for the door. Two steps in and you feel a strong hand grab your arm and pull your body back. He captures you in a desperate kiss before he releases you. 

“This isn’t finished.” 

“Patience is a virtue, Frankie.” You wink.

He sends you to the door with a spank and heads into his room. You scurry to let everyone in as another round of banging starts.

“Hey guys! Long time no see.” 

They don’t look the least bit shocked to see you greeting them at the door. Pope must have filled them in about the events of last night on the way over. They all greet you with a tender kiss on the cheek and lug their various bags inside the house. You tell them that Frankie is just finishing changing and that he’ll be out shortly. 

“How’d you sleep last night, hermosa?” Pope sets four cases of beer on the kitchen table. The very sight of it causes heat to rise in your belly again.

“Oh umm good? I slept good!”

“Yeah I guess that would explain why your hair looks like it was caught up in a tornado and you have a crazed look in your eye.” Benny snickers. 

“Consequences of last night's actions at the bar.” You shrug leaning back on the sofa.

“There he is!” Will walks up to Frankie as he enters the room and pulls him in for a hug. 

When they break apart his eyes immediately fall on you which causes the rest of the men to follow suit. Suddenly, you’re very aware of how little clothing you have on. 

“Why don’t I put on some pants?” Your cheeks are burning under all the attention and with the knowledge of what almost happened.

“You don’t have too.” Benny offers casually as he lays takeout boxes down on the table. “It’s good practice for when you’re in the ring.” 

“Now I’m definitely going to put on pants.”

You hush the guys as they hoop and holler at you while you head to Frankie’s room in search of yesterday's jeans. If you didn’t know they meant it with love, those would have been the last sounds they uttered.

“She looks mighty relaxed here, Catfish.” Frankie is shocked that Will is the first one to address the elephant in the room. Usually he stays out of silly things like this, but you must be an exception. “Well, except for when Benny decided to poke the hornet's nest with that comment about her hair.” 

“Her hair? What about it?” He looks behind him where you disappeared. “And keep your voices down.”

“Be serious, man.” Pope cracks open a beer. “She looked so frustrated when we walked in. Like she’s a string that’s wound too tight and is this close to snapping.” He emphasizes his point by snapping his own fingers.

“I didn’t think she looked upset.” Benny sounds so confused.

“Not frustrated as in upset, you fuckin’ dolt.” Will looks at his brother with genuine annoyance.

Much to Frankie’s horror he watches in silence as understanding washes over Benny’s face when all the pieces click together in his head.

“Catfish, I’ve never known you to be a man that leaves a woman unsatisfied.” Benny remarks.

“Well that wouldn’t have happened if y’all had come just a little fucking later.” 

“That’s probably my fault.” Pope looks at him sheepishly. “I was anxious to see what unfolded after you dropped me off.” 

Frankie can’t help but chuckle at his friend's excitement. “Nothing ‘unfolded’ after I took you home, hand to God. She was dead to the world when I brought her inside and tucked her in. She didn’t even wake up until 30 minutes before y’all arrived.” 

“Now swear something wasn’t happening while she was awake.” Pope smiles knowing damn well he has Frankie cornered.

“I uhh-”

“Okay I’m presentable looking now.” You walk into the room and immediately notice Will, Santi, and Benny fighting back laughter while Frankie flounders in front of them. “What the fuck have y’all done now?” 

“Just some good ol’ fashion teasin’, hon.” Will waves you over. “You’re going to stay and watch the game with us, right?” 

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude.” You start.

“You’re not!” Frankie is quick to say.

“Yeah! We want you to hang with us!” Benny voices enthusiastically.

“All these beers aren’t going to drink themselves.” Pope waves his hand dramatically over the booze. “Plus, your car is still at the gym. It looks like you’re stuck with us.” 

“You got me there. I guess it’s only fair that I listen to y’all talk about basketball since y’all listened to me talk about the stars.” 

“Atta girl!” Will pulls you into a side hug while the rest of the boys cheer, Frankie included. 

***

You watch happily on the couch as the men around you take turns yelling at the television and then at each other. Thankfully, you knew how basketball worked so you were more than capable of keeping up with what was going on. You and Frankie sit right next to each other on the couch the entire time. Throughout the game they would all jump up and cheer when their team made a basket, but the second you sat with your legs crossed and had your knee touching Frankie, he happily realized he could better encourage the players from a sitting position. After the game ends and all the food is eaten, you get questioned about how you usually spend your Sundays off.

“It used to be similar to this. When I was living with Robbie back home,” You laugh when you notice the raised eyebrows from Will, Frankie, Pope.

“Robbie is a girl. Calm down y’all.” Benny explains.

“Anyway, when I was living with Robbie back home, we would pile into one of our beds with wine and snacks to watch shitty reality TV. We definitely had our fair share of times yelling choice words at the screen and contestants.” 

You’re met with immediate disbelief that reality TV could invoke those kinds of emotions. Instead of verbally pleading your case, you take the remove from Frankie and use it to open up Hulu. You find your favorite show and your favorite season and hit play. 

“After a single episode y’all will be eating your words.” 

When it ends Will is too angry to speak, Frankie is asking you ‘why that dude with the buzzed hair choose the girl in the yellow bikini over the girl in the pink bikini?”, Benny is fully convinced he would dominate at the show, and Pope is begging to watch the next episode. Completely surprised they all loved it, you play the next episode and snuggle deeper into the cushions. You rest your arm on the back of the couch and play with the ends of Frankie’s curls. Electricity shoots through you each time you feel his body tremble under your soft touch. You all only realize how late it's gotten by the time the season is halfway over. 

“Shit, I gotta be up early tomorrow to talk to some vets at the VA.” Will says as he stands. 

Pope and Benny follow his lead and stretch as they do it. You pat on Frankie’s leg and get up as well. Picking up the trash that has collected on the coffee table, you take it to the kitchen to dispose of it. It doesn’t take Will long to expertly gather up both his things and the men he brought with him. You and Frankie walk them out and send them off with sweet goodbyes and promises of doing this again soon. 

“See you at work tomorrow!” Benny calls back to you from the driveway.

As soon as you close the door, you can feel the energy shift in the room. 

“I thought they would never leave.” His voice is gravelly. 

When you look up at Frankie, he’s already staring down at you with the same look he had in his eyes earlier this afternoon. 

“I could barely hold it together with you teasing me like that. Did you enjoy it? Feeling me suffer under your fingers?”

He’s already got his hands on your hips and is pulling you flush against his body. You let out a low whimper as his mouth finds its home on yours. Your smile against him is answer enough to his question and he nips at your bottom lip in response. 

“Now it’s my turn to make you suffer. To drag it out until you’re begging me to stop.” 

He lifts you off the ground and you find yourself in an all too familiar position with your legs around his waist. You can feel him start to walk somewhere, but you can’t be bothered to look as you suck sweet red marks under his jaw line. Hearing him moan loudly only adds fuel to your fire that was never properly put out earlier. Each time he takes a step, the buckle of his belt rubs against your throbbing clit. You wriggle your body against his as best you can to generate as much friction as possible. When the light behind your eyelids fades, you know exactly where he has taken you. You feel him come to a stop and detach your lips from his neck and admire your work. Those rosy marks will definitely be there in the morning. 

“Hi.” You whisper as you turn your attention to his face. 

“Hi.” He says in the same hushed tone. “I’m going to give you an out. I should have done this this afternoon, but I-I got so caught up in you that I couldn’t think properly. If you don’t want to do this, tell me right now and we can pretend like it never happened. No hard feelings. I just don’t want you to do something you regret tomorrow.”

“Frankie,” You reach up for his hat and throw it to the floor so you can run your hands through his hair. His eyes flutter as you touch him ever so tenderly. “I don’t want an out. I want you.” 

His eyes water ever so slightly at your words. Like it was the first time he had ever been truly craved by another person in his life. It makes your heart crack at the thought. You lean in and capture his lips. They are so pliant against yours. It feels like they were made for you and you alone.

“Do you want me?”

“More than anything.”

“Then show me.”

He tosses you down on the bed and the plush comforter cradles your body. In an instant each of you are ripping off shirts and haphazardly unbuttoning pants. You look up at him, only in your underwear, and take all of him in. His strong arms, broad shoulders, a stomach that you can’t wait to feel rub against you. The lower your eyes go on his body, the harder he gets under his boxers. You squeal when he wraps his hands around your ankles and pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. He never breaks eye contact as he kneels down in front of you. He starts slowly at first, kissing you through the fabric barrier. Adorning your thighs with his tongue and soft nips from his teeth. Your quiet moans fill his ears as he finally removes your last stitch of clothing. He chokes at the sight of your weeping cunt before him. You spread your legs wider, beckoning him to take a taste. 

Your cries bounce off the bedroom walls as he buries his face in between your thighs. His tongue works in ways that you never thought possible. You ball up the sheets beside you in your fists as he laps at you relentlessly. Breath stolen with each wicked sound that pours out of his throat. His hand removes itself from your thigh and climbs its way up your writhing body. In an effort to remain tethered to the earth you grab on tighter to him than you thought possible. 

“Fuck, Frankie,” You’re drunk off of him. “You feel so good.”

“And you taste even better.” 

He takes your clit in his mouth and your back arches as two thick fingers glide inside you. If this is his idea of suffering, you wouldn’t mind spending eternity in hell. Your legs start to tremble, but he is unwavering. Drinking you up like you were the first sip of water he has had in years.

“Come for me, mi estrella.”

He holds your hand through your climax. The two of you moaning in unison as you drench him. He doesn’t detach his mouth from you until your body has ceased its shaking. Only when you're struggling to catch your breath, splayed out on the bed, does he retrace his path back up your body with his lips. His beard is glistening with your slick as he lowers himself to kiss you. The taste of you is prominent on his tongue when he slips it into your mouth. You wrap your arms around him and pull the rest of his weight on top of you. You can hear him growl in your ear when you start to move your hips underneath him. 

“Take them off.” You mewl. “I want to feel you. All of you.” 

He pushes off the bed frantically and sheds the last of his clothing. God, he was much bigger than you originally thought. You move your body upwards on the bed so you can lay on a pillow. You watch, mouth watering, as he starts to crawl his way back towards you. He licks his palm and uses it to stoke himself. The profane performance in front of you causes your mind to go blank. He lowers himself in between your legs again and you can feel his tip at your entrance. You can only mutter incomprehensible words as he sinks himself deep inside you. You wrap your arms back around him to keep yourself steady as you feel your walls stretch around his length.

“You’re so fucking tight around me, cariño.” His face is inches from yours. “I’ve got to move, okay?” 

You answer him by bringing your lips up to kiss him. Your whimpers are muffled by his mouth as he sets his pace. Each stroke is more detrimental than the previous one. Your nails bitting into his back only serves to motivate him as he continues. 

“You’re so big. I can feel you everywhere. Frankie.” 

He sits up just enough to allow himself room to rub your clit. His face fluctuates between concentration and bliss. 

“Are you going to come for me again? Come for me all over my cock?” His fingers rub tight circles and you can feel yourself quickly approaching.

You nod in response to him.

“I can’t hear you. Use your words.” He demands.

“Yes,” you pant. “I’m going to come for you. Only for you.” 

Frankie is trying to keep himself from finishing before you do. He wants to make sure you at least finish twice before he even considers it. He brings the hand he was using on you up to his mouth and spits on it before connecting it to you again. The sounds that are coming from you are making it increasingly difficult to stay focused on his task. He looks down at you while he continues to pound into you and work at your clit. Your body gleams with sweat, your chest is heaving, your lips are swollen from him kissing them, and your eyes…your eyes are on him. He falters for a split second under your gaze. No other woman has ever made him nervous in bed the way you have. Never has he worried that he was doing too little or too much. But with you, he wanted everything to be perfect.

Frankie adjusts your hips so he can hit that sweet spot. He knows he found it when your eyes go wide and your jaw goes slack. He doesn’t change a thing about what he is doing. 

“I’m gonna come,” You sob.

You clench down tightly around him as you’re thrust into your second orgasm of the night. It only takes three or four more pumps until he too is consumed by his own pleasure. You feel him spurt hot ropes inside you and sink deeper into the bed. When he’s done, you feel a slight sting as he pulls out. He crawls beside you in the bed and ghosts his lips over yours.

“I’m going to get a towel to clean you up, alright? Are you going to be good here by yourself for a sec?”

“I don’t think I could move even if I wanted to.”

He smiles down at you and kisses you quickly before disappearing into the bathroom. You rest your eyes while the faucet runs faintly in the background. He’s quiet when pads into the bedroom, but you feel the bed creak beside you under his weight. The towel is damp and warm against you. You sigh contentedly as he takes his time in cleaning you up as if he is sad to see the evidence of him being washed clean from your skin. When he finishes, he sets the towel down on a nightstand and pulls the covers over both of you. His arms pull your tired body against his and envelop you in his warmth. 

“That was worth the wait.” You laugh.

“I would definitely say so, but hopefully we won’t have to wait so long for the next time.”

“No, I don’t think we will.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

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