#I think you’re avery

[iliveinyourceiling65]

I forgot abt the almost-incest in The Hawthorne Legacy ngl

[kyngsnake]

nasty little creature

[narrativeblanks]

reading the inheritance trilogy really does feel like you’re trying to dodge as many incest-trope bullets in quick succession, and just as you think jennifer lynn barnes has finally run out of ammo, she throws the fucking gun at you

[daisyjoners]

tag dump! nana’s version (atualizando aos poucos por ser muita gente)

[rainrot4me]

My Muse - Halloween Special

Summary: What if the Creepypasta characters were real life killers idolized the same way horror movie slashers were? Kids dressing up as Ghostface or Pennywise? More like kids decorated as Jeff the Killer or Slenderman! You chose to dress as your favorite mass murderer, Ticci Toby- and, oh, how he couldn’t get enough of it. He had never seen someone look so good in his goggles.

Characters: Ticci Toby x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Vaginal, fluff and smut, fluff, vaginal fingering, handjobs, use of a condom, slight stalking, slight obsession, praise, alcohol, slight bullying, Jeff being a big brother, slight miscommunication, slight panic attacks, decompression, Toby is obsessive but we knew that, first time?

Tag: #rainykinktober2024

Words: 12k

A/N: Happy Halloween everyone! This work is based off of @h3llw1’s request made a while ago that I felt fit perfectly with a good spooky special! I will tag the request! Please be responsible and have fun tonight and this weekend!

Find the original request for this story here!

“Wait, so… Who are you dressed up as, again?”

You shuffled the goggles off of your eyes, pushing them onto your forehead and messing into your hair, turning back to your friend.

“Toby Rogers- y’know, that kid who burned all those houses down? Serial killer, dude.” You smiled awkwardly, turning back to your vanity mirror and pressing the makeup brush against your cheek, trying to recreate the infamous cheek gash in the image you had pulled up. You were almost done, detailing the fake teeth at the corner of your lips. “Was really obsessed with him in middle school…”

“Oh, right.” Your roommate, Avery, rolled her eyes, curling the strands of her hair into big voluptuous rolls, making sure each piece looked nice under her hat. She was supposed to be Strawberry Shortcake, you think, it was hard to tell with how little she was wearing of the actual costume. It was really more of a bikini topped off with a strawberry hat.

“You’re still planning on going to AJ’s party, right?” She chirped, flipping the curling iron off and lying it on the counter, reaching back to grab her phone. You paused, giving yourself a once-over in the mirror- your costume really wasn’t the ‘AJ’s party’ type. You turned around in your chair, a little overwhelmed with how messy your bedroom floor was, but promising yourself you would clean it up later tonight.

“Uh, sure- If you guys are still going.” Avery tapped away at her phone, your own lighting up with text messages to your group chat sent by her. You were waiting on the rest of her friends, some people she had become close with in her classes.

It would be fun… you hoped.

“Oh, they’re here.” Stepping out of your room, you followed her to the front door, making sure your makeup looked good in the mirror. Standing on your front step, the rest of the group was there, chittering their excitement as Avery swung the door wide.

You stood awkwardly as they all hugged, complimenting each other on their matching costumes- the other two girls were supposed to be Orange Blossom and Blueberry Muffin, but they more or less matched with Avery’s.

They each had a guy with them, the tallest one wrapping his arm around your roommate’s shoulder, the Ghostface costume he had on making her all giggly. You cringed, fidgeting with the hem of the hoodie you had stitched to look like Toby’s, the stripes on your sleeves were the hardest part.

“Oh! This is my roommate [Y/N], she’s gonna come with us tonight.” You nodded, giving a small wave as they all turned to you. Brushing your hair behind your ear, they all smiled sweetly, but you could tell they were a little put off by the outfit you were wearing.

“Ah, what’re you dressed up as?” The Ghostface guy chuckled, shuffling his mask up to get a better look. 

“Oh- uhm, Toby Rogers? Like, that serial killer. Yeah.” None of them had a clue, you could see it in the weird glances they cast at one another. Avery waved them off, jingling through her keys to pull the door shut and locking it behind you. “We should get going, I don’t wanna miss anyone.”

Nodding, everyone began to walk down the hallway of your apartment building, the guys carrying six-packs of beer under their arms. Sighing, you followed behind, taking the fabric mask from under your chin and pulling it over your mouth.

You would try to have fun tonight, you swore it.

-

“Listen, kid, if you don’t hurry up I’m leaving you here.” 

Jeff crossed his arms, a scowl on his face as he watched poor Sally try and adjust her costume. Toby shoved him, kneeling beside her and reaching back to tie the little bow around her waist, casting a nasty look at the killer.

She was dressed as Annabelle, the creepy dress splattered with fake blood, making the real blood pooling from her forehead look like nothing more than some face paint. Her hair was tied into two neat little braids, Nina’s doing. Sally turned to look at herself in the reflection of EJ’s truck- Jeff had stolen it for the night, claiming he wasn’t going to walk all the way into town just for some candy. She finally nodded, holding her little basket tight in her hands.

This was her first Halloween, with Jeff of all people, so she was a little anxious. The killer, on the other hand, found this holiday to be his favorite. He could waltz the streets of the small town closest to the mansion, hood down and everything, snagging as much candy and compliments as he wanted. People really admired his ‘makeup.’

Toby decided to tag along this year, curious to see all the costumes and jack-o-lanterns. He really loved this night as a kid, he wanted to make sure it was good for Sally, too.

“I’m ready now.” She hummed, skipping forward to wrap her hand around Jeff’s hoodie sleeve, the killer rolling his eyes as he began to walk. Toby followed behind, admiring the decorations and darkly colored leaves littering the ground, a surge of excitement coursing through him. It felt just like one of those older scary movies, the sun dipping just low enough to cast an orangish hue across the clouds, kids running around giggling and screaming, parents tossing out candy left and right- he missed this feeling, what it was like to be normal.

He was older now, officially ‘candy handing-out’ age. He used to relish these days, promising that he would dress up for Halloween until he was sixty- now he had much more important things to worry about than what costume he was going to wear. If only his younger self knew how much of a genuine horror his life would become.

“C’mon, twitch, I ain’t waitin’ on you, too,” Jeff called, snapping Toby out of his trance as he watched kids race across the road, some mother yelling about being careful. He nodded, pushing his mask up over his nose, shimmying his goggles off of his forehead and over his eyes. He was still too paranoid to go outright, the covers made him feel more secure, like fewer people’s eyes were boring into him. He felt that swell of anxiety, having to remind himself that people would be far more concerned with Jeff’s look than his. Shoving his hands into his pocket, he took a deep breath- he had to calm down.

He wouldn’t lose himself tonight, he swore it.

-

“Wh- What’d you get?” Toby helped carry Sally’s basket, the thing nearly overflowing with how much she was getting, everyone was loving her costume. They were nearly done with this neighborhood, but Jeff heard some kids yelling about a Baptist church’s trunk-or-treat, and he was more than excited to show up somewhere holy. It was getting late, the sun almost nearly disappeared, so Toby knew it was almost time to wrap things up.

“Lots’a chocolate. Jeff keeps stealing the good stuff, though.” Glancing up, the killer was popping a tiny box of nerds into his mouth, tossing the cardboard onto someone’s yard when he shrugged his shoulders. “You’ve got like, six more of ‘em- you’ll be fine, squirt.”

It was turning out a lot better than Toby had thought, the brunette’s worries nearly washed away as the night grew more crowded. Jeff had spotted some middle-schooler dressed as Slenderman, the killer nearly doubling over in laughter as Toby hauled his phone out to take a picture. The brunette had forgotten just how popular their boss really was, more of an internet spectacle than folklore now. A meme? Yeah, his big scary boss was a meme. Tim and Brian were going to get a crack out of it. 

Teenagers were out now, older kids walking in packs with their friends, not so much worried about getting candy as they were trying to hide the alcohol they were carrying. Toby had forgotten just how much different Halloween was when you got older- girls dressed in skimpy outfits of cartoon characters, guys trying to play cool as some movie slasher chasing everyone around, and then you had the ones who just didn’t dress up at all. It was weird.

“Damn, when did Strawberry Shortcake lose the baker getup and start wearing lingerie?” Jeff snickered, crossing his arms and nodding towards a group across the street. Toby scanned them, the orangish tint of his goggles obscuring them, but he could easily make out who the killer was talking about. He gave the rest of the pack a once-over, their outfits more or less the same as guys clung to their hips, flirty little touches as they all walked.

He almost missed it though, the one in the middle of the group, unaccompanied. Jeff must’ve seen it at the same time because he was slapping Toby’s arm like crazy.

“Oh fuck, isn’t that supposed to be you?” Toby shoved his goggles off of his face, ruffling them into his bangs just like how you had them, looking utterly bored as your group quickly began to get out of his eyesight. The brunette looked down at himself, wearing that same hoodie that every popular image depicted him in, the stripes on his sleeves the telltale sign. There was no mistaking it, you were dressed up as him.

The brunette didn’t know how to feel, didn’t even really know what to say as Jeff’s teasing went unheard beside him. He couldn’t peel his eyes away, couldn’t stop his hands from flexing and fidgeting with utter excitement.

He had to get a better look at you.

“Hey! Where are you going?!” Jeff yelled across the road, Toby shoving the candy basket into the killer’s hands and jogging in the direction your friends were going.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later! Don’t wa- wait up!”

He disappeared into another block, Jeff letting out an exasperated sigh as he took Sally’s hand. “C’mon, kid. We’ve got some Baptists to freak out.”

-

It was already loud inside the house, music thumping against the walls as people tried to shout to hear one another. 

You hung against the wall of the living room, sipping slowly on whatever alcohol-filled punch they were serving in the kitchen. People were spilling out everywhere, the front yard just as busy as the rest of the rooms of AJ’s house.

It was barely even 9 PM, but nearly everyone from your school was here, familiar faces passing by with glances or cheesy small talk. Avery and her friends had disappeared into the crowd near the speakers, couples dancing and talking with one another, the pulsing neon lights, cheers following every finished game of beer pong, and the atmosphere heavy with vodka and laughter. It was nice, a little overwhelming, but nice.

You could feel the buzz in the back of your head, the tipsy dizziness you held making it a little easier to relax, the music swaying your hips gently.

You couldn’t see through the crowd, but Toby rested his shoulders back on the wall across from you, tapping his fingers across his thigh as he surveyed the crowd. He didn’t even have a drink, awkwardly trying to pretend like he was supposed to be here amongst the buzzed-out college kids.

He had followed you there, staying a comfortable distance behind your group and out of your curious eyes. It was hard not to notice the way your eyes lingered on the houses you passed, smiling at the kids who ran by, and pointing out the overzealous house decorations. You really stood out from your group, a sore thumb from the rest of them. 

What was he doing? Why was he even here? Following some girl because she was dressed as him? Toby knew he was popular, Ben reminding him every time some new post went up on the internet trying to debunk his whereabouts. It didn’t bother him, with his job came weirdos who idolized him- he had just never seen it in person before. 

It really was surreal. 

“Oh my god.”

Toby shot up, straightening as he looked to his side, panic sweeping over him.

Lost in his thoughts and the rush of the party, he hadn’t noticed you pushing to his side of the room, shuffling past to get back into the kitchen for more of whatever you were drinking. You had your mask tugged down under your chin, the facepaint on the left side of your cheek standing out against your flushed cheeks. You even had torn tissue paper to make it look realistic- God, he was going to freak out.

Holding your hands out, you look down at yourself and then at him, comparing your almost identical outfits with a bright smile. “Nice costume, man.” 

Of course, you were cute. He was trying to register you, eyes flinching across your sweet face smiling up at him.

Toby teetered, shoulder flinching just enough to make you glance, but not enough to take the excitement away from your face. He also realized he was just staring and not saying anything- “Oh! Yea- Yeah, hah-” The cool metal of his mask pressed against his cheeks, staring oddly at the fabric one you had.

“Oh damn, you’ve got like- the legit facemask. I just got mine from Spirit, it’s pretty crappy.” You laughed to yourself, holding the solo cup awkwardly in your hands, fidgeting with the lid. Toby immediately regretted his decision, wracking through his brain for some way to get out of here- he forgot how painful small talk was. “I didn’t know anybody else even knew who Ticci Toby was.”

God, that nickname. The play on words was supposed to be funny, but its holder didn’t think it was all that humorous. He smiled at you anyway; there was just something about the way you said it, all giddy.

“Ah, yeah. Mine’s pre- pretty old.” He was fidgeting again, unprepared for how you snuck up on him. “I, uhm, tried my best. Haven’t re- really dressed up in a while.” You complimented him heftily, pointing out the ‘fake’ dirt and blood stains across his hoodie, the great quality of his goggles, and even how he got his makeup to that weird milky-gray skin color. To you, it was just a very well-done costume. 

“No, I get it. I don’t usually go all out like this,” Looking down at yourself, you put on sort of a blush, nervous chirping about how niche it was. Toby couldn’t help but smile. “I just have always really loved his story, so I wanted to make one of my last Halloween’s memorable, y’know?” Ah, candy-handing-out age. A million thoughts ran in the brunette’s mind, but he found himself relaxing again, shoulder pressed onto the wall as you rambled. “I’m just glad I’m not the only one who likes him.”

With you, this close, cheery little features continuing to blab on about the rest of the small details of your own costume, he couldn’t help but find himself listening so intently. A fan? Is that what you were? It felt weird to think about it like that, but the brunette found himself blushing at the thought of an admirer.

“-And I fringed the bottom of his hoodie with a lighter. It was hard to get it to look right, but I really liked how it came out. Y’know, for like him burning his house and stuff- I thought it was a nice detail.” Toby was nodding along, surprised by the little burn holes near the pockets of your lookalike hoodie, the attention to detail far more than he was expecting. “That’s really cool, uh-”

“[Y/N].”

“Uh- Toby.” Was that going to give it away-

“Even got the name down too, huh? Man, I see why you dressed up as him- you fit everything to a T.” He relaxed, your obliviousness laughable, but also a heavy relief.

People brushed by, bumping into both of your shoulders and shimmying their way through. You refocused again, pointing back over your shoulder with a shy smile. “Would you, uh, wanna get some more to drink? I was going anyway-”

Woah- You were inviting him to hang out longer? He was about to refuse, come up with some weird excuse to get back to Jeff and Sally, but the way you gleamed up at him, flashing lights and overstimulating music, it felt so odd.

He was going to let himself give in. He was wearing a ‘costume’ after all, so why not play up the act and enjoy himself a little bit? Slender would have him out running these woods by tomorrow, so why not just take the night and at least pretend like he was still a normal kid? Like all those bad things never happened, being a proxy never happened… He was just a kid who grew up, spending Halloween how normal teenagers did now. Yeah, he was going to let himself have this one night if nothing else.

Toby nodded, pushing off of the wall as you led the way, pushing through the mess of wildly dressed people into the kitchen. Behind you, now, Toby could see the way you still stood out amongst everyone, odd glances being cast in your direction. Just like him, almost, a freak in a sea of hateful eyes. You get it.

“I don’t really know what this stuff is, but it tastes pretty good.” You laugh, flipping the nozzle of the jug holding whatever concoction was mixed with red Kool-Aid, pouring some into two cups. You handed it to Toby, the brunette awkwardly swirling the liquid around with a nervous stare. You giggled at him, wrapping your hand around the sleeve of his hoodie, and guiding him out the back door and onto the patio.

The atmosphere was much calmer than inside, the muffled thumping of whatever song was playing giving a nice rhythmic atmosphere as you sat on top of the stairs leading out into the backyard. You both watched friends and couples dare each other to jump into the pool, the chilly autumn air guiding you to believe the water wasn’t much warmer. Toby sat next to you, mask still snug on his face, revealing nothing for your curious mind.

“So, Toby, what’re you doing here?” You sipped lightly on the drink, contrasting flavors of vodka swirling in the fruity punch, the sting of alcohol making you cringe. Toby hesitated, still tapping his fingers on the side of the plastic cup, trying his best to calm his rushing nerves.

“Uhm- well, y’know… Halloween par- party stuff…” Even though you had taken notice of his stutter ages ago, you forcefully ignored it. You knew better than anyone about nerves, you didn’t want the poor guy to feel any worse about it. Still, his answer made you laugh.

“You’re not supposed to be here, are you?” You smile as he shakes his head, leaning back to glance up at the sky, the moon hanging bright and casting a milky glow across the clouds. Toby really enjoyed it when it was like this, made it easier to see where he was going at night. “That’s alright, I don’t really belong here, either.” You enjoyed the moon because it was pretty. Same worlds, different perspectives.

“How come?” Toby leaned back, too, kicking his legs out as he relaxed, easing into the conversation. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “I only came because my roommate invited me, I didn’t really want to come. These things aren’t really my deal.” You took another sip, Toby taking in every inch of your face, studying every detail as you spoke. “I would’ve much rather gone trick-or-treating. I guess we’re all a little too old for that now, though, huh?”

The breeze ruffled your hair, wrapping your knees in tight against your chest as the air chilled you. Toby caught himself admiring- it was almost like you were wearing his hoodie, the top just a little oversized on you- he could imagine it. “Nah, I used to love it. Wish it wasn’t we- weird to go when you got a certain age like there’s a time lim- limit on when you can ask for candy.” He smiled, flinching his leg a little.

Toby felt his phone buzz in his back pocket, leaning over to dig it out, flipping the screen up to see a text message from Jeff.

“wtf r u?????” “party. dont wait up.” “😡🖕🙄”

Just to make sure, Toby shared his location with the killer, flipping his phone off and shoving it back into his pocket.

You gave him a sideways glance, smacking him on the shoulder playfully. “You haven’t even drank anything- at least try it. It’s not all that bad.” Clearly, considering you were throwing the cup back to finish off presumably your second glass.

Toby awkwardly cupped his hand onto the metal of his mask, sliding it down below his chin. Thankfully, he had remembered to get EJ to redo the bandages on the corner of his mouth, the gaudy wound becoming irritating to deal with. He wishes it was just cool makeup like yours.

Taking a sip from the cup, he cringed, brows knotting as he shut his eyes. “God- That’s like- straight vodka with fru- fruit syrup- Fuck-” It burned his tongue, your laughter so sweet beside him, resting your hand on his shoulder. He made a funny face, fake gagging on the terrible thing.

He sat straight when you gasped, cupping your hands onto his cheeks and turning his head forcefully. His instincts kicked, hands flexing to grab at you, to slam you down across the pavement below- 

Until you were rubbing your thumb across his bandages gently, flattening out the ends that had become soiled with dried blood. Toby forced himself to relax, his heart thudding in his chest with adrenaline. No one usually got this close- touched him- unless they were clawing for their life. It was like a whiplash, having to condition himself differently for your ignorance.

“Dude, no way you’ve been hiding these all night! Fuck, even these look real- how in the world are you so good at dressing up?” You were taking in every detail of his face, assuming the scars across his lips and cheekbones were merely good makeup skills or a talented friend, Toby trying his best not to freak out with you this close.

You seemed to notice it too, because you were snapping your hands back, eyes blowing wide-

“Shit- sorry- I get real excited about these things… The drinks probably aren’t helping either.” You chuckled, awkwardly sitting back and tucking your knees against your chest, silently cursing yourself for making him uncomfortable with your weird obsession. Toby noticed it, immediately catching the switch-up in your attitude.

Holding his palm out, he levels it in front of you, catching your attention. “I’ve, uhm, got the weird hand bandages, too.” He sheepishly smiled, watching as you slowly lit up again, taking his hand between your own.

“No way…” You picked at the medical wrap clinging around his hand, little bandaids and medical tape snugged tight around his fingers to hide the terrible bite marks and scars he had given himself, that gaudy proxy symbol etched into his flesh. He wanted to compliment your makeup, to say something about how realistic it looked-

Until you both heard a piercing scream from across the patio.

“Tyler!”

Snapping your gaze to the noise, you watched as a tall jockey guy hauled a tiny blonde girl over his shoulders, taking two heavy steps before he jumped into the pool, dragging her along with him. Toby was concerned but was quickly caught off guard when you began to laugh, slapping his arm.

“Avery! Are you okay?!” The other girls on the side of the pool knelt down beside the water, reaching their arms out to help the poor girl back onto solid land. They quickly had a towel wrapped around her, and the guy, Tyler, hopped up onto the side, high-fiving the similar-looking guys accompanying them.

You were still laughing, Toby smiling even when the girl came over to the steps, hurriedly trying to get back inside.

“Ah- [Y/N]? Who’s this?” Your roommate gave Toby a once-over, casting a sideways glance as she noticed you both were wearing the same outfit.

“Uh, This is Toby- we’re dressed as the same thing, see?” You were all cheery, smiling up at her even as she dripped water everywhere. Toby recognized them now, the skimpy group you were walking with, the ones who left you alone almost immediately after getting to the party. You tried to act like it didn’t hurt you, but the brunette had seen it all, catching every time you longingly stared at them through the crowd- the way you still did now.

“Right… Well, I’m glad you guys found each other,” You could hear the sarcasm in her voice, her friends hanging behind her and giving you both funny looks, whispering to one another as she talked. Toby knew you noticed it, too. You were pressing your knees against your chest again, shriveling up into yourself. “Look, we’re leaving. Probably going to finish the night out at some bars if you want to head on back to the apartment.”

You began to nod, giving Toby a half-glance of defeat, taking your empty cup in hand as you began to stand up.

“Uh- Ac- Actually, we’re going trick-or-treating. So, don’t wa- wait up.” Toby stared daggers into the girl, unapologetically snagging your hand in his as he stood, taking his cup in hand. Avery watched him with a sour look, glancing back and forth between you two before stepping up the rest of the stairs. “You two have fun, then. Freaks.”

She definitely said the last part louder than she meant to, because her friends were giggling as they trailed behind her, quickly scuttling into the crowded house. You rolled your eyes, trying not to let it show, but the pang in your chest was heavy.

Toby looked at you, took a firm grip on the solo cup, and closed his eyes. You watched with bright eyes as he chugged the rest, throat burning as he groaned, crushing the cup in his fist and tossing it behind him. You smiled, forgetting that your hand was still tucked neatly into his as you both raced off the patio, pushing through the fence gate, and climbing out onto the road. The street lights were on now, kids dwindling as houses stopped handing out candy, but Toby was determined to get you some.

“Are we actually trick-or-treating?” You laughed, Toby dragging you along with him, pulling his mask back up and over his nose. “Dude, we’re like, totally too old for this stuff, now-”

“And? Just cause I’m older doesn’t me- mean I stopped loving candy.” He hollered. You clung against his side, the breeze pushing through your hair and giving your nose a cute little blush, eyes bright with excitement as you gripped his hand tighter. You tugged your own mask up, shimmying your plastic goggles off of your head and over your eyes, completing the entire look. Toby stalled, heart whirling in his chest as you raced down the sidewalk, excitement buzzing in the air.

Jeff was going to kill him, but it would be worth it.

-

“Trick or treat!”

You held out a plastic Walmart bag, the thing nearly busting with how many pieces of candy it was holding. You both had meant to stop five houses ago, but when you somehow wound up in the nicer neighborhood four blocks over, you couldn’t pass up the full-size candy bars they were giving out.

The tipsiness was really hitting now, you both holding onto one another as concerned glances from parents dumping the rest of their candy into your bag. You always hated those obnoxious people who laughed or talked too loud in public, but now, you found yourself doubling over, cackling at the mean comments Toby was dishing out to little kids’ costumes.

“Tha- That’s supposed to be Spiderman? Yeesh.” It wasn’t even that funny, but you nearly hit your knees from lack of air, laughing so hard that your chest was hurting. Toby’s eyes were heavy, neck jerking and body twitching from the overstimulation, his cheeks a rosy color from the swirl of alcohol in his bloodstream.

“Okay, okay,” You raised up, catching your breath as you leaned against his arm, the rusty smell of his cologne surrounding you. “I think if we get any more- hic- we’re gonna be picking all of it up off the ground.” You pointed at the sack, the plastic stretching and threatening to bust out everywhere. Toby nodded, reaching in and snagging a Hershey’s kiss, popping the sweet chocolate into his mouth. You acted offended, holding the bag close as you both laughed.

The streets were nearly empty now, most of the houses’ lights being turned off and decorations unplugged, the only sign of activity from cars driving by or random groups of kids racing back home to review their hauls. You could feel your own room calling to you, your intoxication pulsing sleepiness into your mind.

Toby noted when you yawned, taking that as a silent sign that the night was ending, preparing to part ways with you. He nearly reached back into his pocket, going to give Jeff a call to come pick him up.

“Wanna go back to my place?”

He paused, your heavy eyes grinning up at him.

“Uh- What?” He could feel himself blushing. Was it just the vodka? He hoped so.

“Well, I ain’t gonna eat all of this by myself. Besides, I’m not trusting myself to get back without crashing out in a bush somewhere.” Toby laughed, rolling his eyes as you waited for his answer, shifting your weight nervously. You smiled when he nodded, your arm quickly wrapping around his and dragging him down the rest of the street.

Reaching over, he took the bag of candy from your hands, stuffing it under his arm. You walked slowly, taking in the dulled-out character inflatables and oversized skeletons in people’s yards, pointing out the Spirit Halloween animatronics that you found so cool. He couldn’t help but find himself staring, encapsulated with you. You found such beauty in what everyone else found offputting, admiring what even he would call strange.

“You’re so weird.” He huffed with a grin.

You glanced up at him, rolling your eyes. “You like it.”

Toby couldn’t find a good answer, turning his attention back to the street lights out front. He did like it. 

“So, I never asked about you- Like, really. What do you do when you’re not wearing the best Toby Rogers cosplay ever?” Toby glanced at you, stalling out mentally as he tried to come up with something.

“Uh, I travel a lo- lot. Kinda like an on-call thing. Uhm… Yeah.” You nodded along, but the brunette wasn’t entirely sure you were hearing what he was saying. You were just looking at him, eyelids hanging low as you took in every detail of his face. He smiled, reaching his free hand to tug your mask down under your chin, your sly grin hidden underneath.

“Tell me abo- about you, [Y/N]. What is Ms. Rogers doing when she’s not ob- obsessing over me?”

Toby paused, a dead stare into your eyes as he choked on his words. He slipped up- Did you notice, would you care? He could feel the panic rising in his chest, jerks twinging at the back of his neck, anxiety swelling-

“Woah, easy tiger-” You’re giggling, pushing the strands of hair that fell in your face when you did an unbalanced little bow. “Didn’t know I was in the presence of such a celebrity.”

Toby was already relaxing, shoulders untensing faster than they wound, trying his best to settle his shaky hands. “But, I don’t know. I’m in between jobs? School?” You fidgeted with your hands, your arm still wrapped tightly around his. The weight was comforting. “I’m only still here because it’s where I grew up, but I don’t know what I’m doin’ now…” Your stare was distant, fidgeting with the fabric of his sleeve as you talked. 

He was about to say something, trying to muster up some affirming speech that Tim used to tell him when things got rough. But you were tugging him off of the sidewalk, skipping towards some apartment complex building. “We’re hereee…”

He followed you through the neat hallways, the stout smell of clean and tacky air fresheners strong on the brightly colored carpet. Toby didn’t know if he had ever been in a place so nice, dozens of doors lining everywhere you went, feeling like he could get lost if you weren’t dragging him into an elevator.

Pressing your floor button, he leaned back against the brassy walls, your hands rummaging through your pockets and hauling out a set of keys. Cute little keychains were hooked onto the loop, reaching back into your pocket for your phone, swiping across the screen.

“Here, smile-” You were leaning back against him, holding your hand high in the air to take a selfie, Toby grinning goofily up into the camera. Looking over the picture, you smiled, never moving off of his shoulder as the elevator took you up, Toby’s heart soaring much higher.

-

“How many of those are you going to eat?” You gasped, tossing another Skittles wrapper onto your floor, adding to the mess that you swore you were going to clean up.

Alternatively, you were lying on your back, laid out on your even messier bed, stuffing your face with possibly the most unhealthy amounts of sweets. Toby sat on the floor, his back pressed against your footboard, rummaging his hands through the sack and tossing pieces up to you. 

He looks really good in just a t-shirt, you thought, catching yourself staring at his toned shoulders.

“As many as I want.” He grinned, popping another jawbreaker into his mouth. Your twin pairs of goggles and masks lay scattered on the floor, hoodies bunched at his feet. Toby was in bliss, the sweet smell of your perfume and clothes soaked in all around him, pieces of you everywhere he looked. Posters of your favorite bands, corkboard full of keychains and polaroids, even your wall-mounted TV playing some older murder mystery documentary. He loved how normal it felt, how comfortable, and different.

In his mind, he could see you going through the motions every day, the boy longing for even just a taste of that. In the way you admired his weirdness, he admired your normality. Same worlds, different perspectives.

“I’m officially cutting myself off until Christmas.” You huffed, climbing off of the bed and staggering to your vanity. Toby watched as you fiddled through your makeup, popping open the box of makeup wipes and taking one out. Pushing your hair behind your ears, you began to wipe the design on your cheek off, rubbing the wipe over your eyes and cleansing your skin of the fake deep-set eyes. The brunette was lost, mesmerized by how your rosy cheeks looked so sweet in the warm light of your bedside lamp, eyes brighter than ever.

Sitting off your chair, Toby sat up a little when you grabbed another wipe, kneeling next to him. “Your turn.”

He stuttered, glancing from your now-clean face to the wipe in hand, nervousness creeping up in his throat. The wipe was cold, pressing it against his as you tried to clean him off, Toby watching through worried eyes when your face started to contort, confusion heavy in your features. “Dude, like, none of this is coming off. What kind of makeup did you use?”

“Hah- Uh, the good stuff, y’know?” He could tell you weren’t convinced, scrubbing just a little harder on his cheekbone until the grayish skin became littered with red irritation. You sat back on your heels, cupping the side of his cheek with your free hand, running your thumb across the skin under his eye. Toby flinched, your other hand coming up to cup the other side of his head, eyes tensed in focus. 

Fuck, here it goes.

“This isn’t makeup, is it?”

Toby cringed, refusing to look you directly in the eyes. His fingers flexed, the outline of his pocketknife pressing against his leg, a silent reminder. He didn’t want to do it, God, he silently begged not to, prayed for you to brush it off so he could get out of here. The room felt so small now, your closeness becoming increasingly irritating the longer you stared.

But the brunette knew that if you reacted how everyone else did, with panicked screams that would have your curious neighbors come knocking, he knew what he would have to do. Even someone as awestruck as you couldn’t keep him from the inevitable.

He clenched his jaw when you dropped your hands, parting your lips like you wanted to say something, but getting tangled in your own thoughts.

“[Y/N]. I’m- uhm- I’m him, okay?”

You just kept staring, “I get it, your costume was good- okay? I don’t-”

“No, I’m not- Jeez,” He slid his hand up the side of his thigh, finally forcing himself to look at your confused face, eyes snagging onto every detail. “I’m Ro- Rogers. Like- Toby, Toby Rogers… I’m Ticci Toby.”

Tapping his heel on your carpeted floor, the brunette waited, collecting every twitch of your eyes or shaky breath that you took. He was ready for the yelling, the panic, taking calculated measurements in his head of just how many steps it would take for you to get to your bedroom door. He had done it a million times, ended someone’s life a million times. He would force this time not to be different.

His hand flexed around the indent of his pocketknife, ready to flip the metal open as you sat up onto your knees.

Your hands moved slowly, following the same motion you had been making all night, but this time it was more meaningful. Toby flinched as your warm fingertips brushed along his jaw, wrapping gently around his cheeks as you said nothing, the brunette trying to keep the floodgates of panic from cracking open in his mind.

That’s when he felt your fingernails picking at the bandage on his cheek, pinching the edge, and slowly, carefully removing the sterile cloth underneath, the fabric spotty with dried blood. Toby let his eyes shut, his facial wound now on full display, slowly ticking the seconds of silence by in his mind, relishing in the fleeting feeling of his ‘normality.’

He was a fool to ever think he could have something so nice-

“The pictures on the internet do not do you justice.”

The rush came to a stop, eyes slowly flinching open as he looked at you, his brows knitted in confusion. “What?”

“There’s these pictures on Twitter, really blurry, but still- of you. They don’t make this thing look half as cool as it really is.” As if to confirm it for yourself, you brushed your thumb across the edge of his skin where the flesh broke off in torn tissue and exposed the side of his gums. You watched to see if he would flinch, carefully pressing the softness of his cheek to watch the skin stretch and move- it was real.

Toby watched as you sat back, setting your hands down in your lap. It was strange how the brunette found himself missing the warmth of your touch, already.

“Toby… Toby… How the fuck did I not see it sooner?” You repeated his name over and over, rolling the syllables off your tongue and stapling them in your mind. “How did I not notice? I’ve seen your face a million times.”

Toby could barely register any of it, his heart thudding a mile a minute as you carried on like everything was normal, more angry with yourself for not noticing it was him than anything. It was almost a blur as you scooted forward, leaning in close to wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him in so gently. 

He could feel himself melt, hand unraveling from his knife as the panic dissipated, the sweet, lovely smell of your perfume heavy in his nose. He had to be dreaming, he thought, slowly coaxing his hands around your back and pulling you in closer, forgetting the last time he had even had a hug at all.

But then it ends all too quickly, your hands pushing back on his shoulders, a panicked look in your eyes.

“I must seem insane.” And then you’re standing up, running your hands through your hair, pacing back and forth across the messiness of your bedroom. Toby shakes his head, standing off the ground, reaching out to you. “I’ve been going on and on about you all night- I must seem so psycho and crazy. This is so embarrassing- What the fuck?” 

He’s grabbing your arms, pulling you back over to the foot of your bed, and sitting you down, an exasperated smile on his face. He was so worried about you freaking out or becoming terrified that he completely forgot who you were. You had been rambling about him all night, unknowingly complimenting the boy right to his face, and Toby was scared you wouldn’t like him. Just like how you’re worried about looking crazy, embarrassment flooding your face as you hide your palms in your hands.

“[Y/N], lo- look at me.” He tugs your hands away, sitting beside you on the bed, leaning down so you’re forced to look at him. You nervously hold his gaze, face so red and flustered, he’s smiling at you like a little kid. “It’s cute.”

And then you’re flopping back onto the bed, screaming into your hands as Toby laughs, running his hands through his hair.

Is this what it’s like? Teenagers hiding out in their rooms, casting sheepish glances at one another all night until one of them cracks, everything flooding out. He should be taking a priority, getting the hell out of your room and out of your life before he gets mixed up with something he can’t pull himself away from. But the flirty touches, teasing, and everything else that got him here clouds his judgment.

Then you’re sitting back up, scooting closer, and throwing your arms around his neck, abandoning every thought he was just brushing over in his mind. He holds you close, your face hiding in the crook of his neck, taking uneven, steady breaths as you try and rationalize it all, before giving up. “I’m sorry, Toby.”

And now it’s his turn to be confused, leaning back to look you in the face. “For?”

“Everything. The things even I couldn’t have controlled, the things that made you this way- Nobody’s probably ever told you before, so I will: I’m sorry. I’ve studied your story so many times, went over every detail, ran your perspective in my dreams- but even still, I can’t possibly imagine.”

The brunette can’t feel pain, he doesn’t understand the cut of a knife or the sting of a bullet. But the pang that snags in his chest, this heavy weight that feels like all the pain he's ever missed out on- that hurts worse than anything. But looking into your eyes, his hands planted firm on your skin, the solid weight beside him- It’s like it's all never even mattered in the first place.

For the first time in his life, he’s being seen. Viewed as more than just a weapon.

Screw the different perspective, screw the polar opposites, he’s in the here and now. It doesn’t matter if he’s been pretending tonight or his entire life, right now is real. He’s not going to lose it.

“Ca- Can I kiss you…?” It’s nearly a whisper, his voice so quiet and nervous as he leans forward on your bed.

You glance from his eyes down to his lips, heart thumping so loud you’re scared he might be able to hear it. You nod anyway, blinking slowly as you hold his gaze. “Y- Yeah.”

Toby brings his hand up nice and slow, cupping the side of your cheek as he leans in, fingers trembling against your skin. Your hand reaches to cup his, warm fingers relaxing atop his, a satisfying weight that has the boy swooning. Then you’re leaning in, too, slowly fluttering your eyes shut.

And then your lips touch, and everything just holds for a moment.

All the rush of the night, the nervousness, the excitement, it stops for just this one second.

You’re leaning into his touch, soft lips pressed firmly against his rough ones, slowly twinging your jaw to coax him deeper. He feels like he’s melting, skin so hot to the touch when you reel him in, your free hand snaking up the backside of his neck and into his messy curls.

He groans into your mouth, breaking the kiss and leaning back, breathing heavily. Your face is so flushed, cheeks a deep vermillion that makes Toby smile a little, grinning as he still cups your cheek. Your fingers brush through his hair, coaxing his head into your hand with such gentle touches. It’s so sweet, so calm, a complete turn from what the brunette is used to.

He knows pain, and rough, and cold- but you- there’s only sweetness, and caring, and warmth behind those eyes. He wants more of it, to feel more of it, he has to have it- to have you.

It doesn’t hit him what just happened until you’re giggling in front of him. Then that hold snaps, his conscience rushing back into him, and he’s leaning back further-

“I’m so so sorry- Oh my god- I don’t kn- know what I was thinking- I- Gah- I’m so sorry-”

“Toby.”

“If I should go- or- Oh, my god- I’m sorry- I should-”

“Toby.”

“I’m just so-”

And then your hands are wrapped into his hair, pushing forward until your lips collide, hurried, loud kisses that have the brunette spiraling, eyes fluttering shut again. There’s that warmth, your body leaning in to press close to his, arms wrapping around his neck, he thinks he might pass away.

You pull back, taking a deep breath as Toby collects himself, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. He’s a mess, brain running a mile a minute, his body having a hard time catching up as he twitches and jerks. 

Throwing your leg over his, you straddle his thighs, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck and holding him close. He’s swallowed by the sweet smell of your perfume, resting his chin on your shoulder as he wraps onto your back, heart thumping against your chest. He finds the thoughts flooding, dissipating the more he breathes, disappearing into this blanket of quiet.

“You alright?” You whisper, brushing your fingers through the back of his hair, his skin tingling with your touch. He hums low against your shoulder, running his fingers up and down your spine, the touch making you sigh. He could live forever in this moment, could die happy right here.

But when his fingers mindlessly dip a little too low, brushing your lower back right above the waistline of your jeans, Toby mewls at the way you grip onto tufts of his hair. It’s abrupt, a reaction, but he feeds into it anyway. He brushes that spot again, right above your tailbone, and you’re taking a deep, shaky breath against his neck. He likes that a lot.

Gently, he tugs the hem of your shirt up, just enough to see a peak of your skin. You pause, hitching a breath when you feel his cold fingers wind up under your shirt and press against your back.

“Toby-” He promises he’ll stop if you ask him to, making sure you know that- but you’re shaking your head, gripping onto his arm as he pushes his hand higher, snaking his fingers along the bony press of your back. You let out a low groan, quiet, but just enough to have Toby aching for more. He stops when his fingers brush the strap of your bra, dipping back down to caress the curve of your skin, studying every detail you’ll let him get.

“You’re so pretty…” He whispers, the dull lamp glowing across your flushed face making him blush, your body relaxing against his hold. Your noises are like a drug, he wants to hear them over and over, the softness of your voice so intoxicating. But more than that, he wants you. If this is all he gets, he’ll cherish it for the rest of his days.

Wrapping an arm around your back, he’s flipping you over, pushing you up to the center of your plush bed and towering over you. “Toby…” He drinks in your sweet gasps as he intertwined his lips with yours, tasting how sinfully delicious you were with a swipe of his tongue across your lower lip. Toby’s hands wandered the expanse of your body, cupping your head to kiss you deeper, snaking down to rub your waist. It’s so greedy, so hurried and eager, but doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out.

Your fingers run through his curls, following his head as he moves off your lips, slowly pressing a trail of gentle, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck. You’re gasping, running your hands across his shoulders, digging your nails in when he kisses just above your collarbone- but then he’s sitting back, pushing up and off of you with a worried look.

“Fu- Fuck, I’m sorry-” And then you’re sitting up on your elbows, a concerned look on your face. “I’m not be- bein’ myself tonight- I don’t know what’s wrong. Shit, [Y/N], I’m sorry-”

“Toby, it’s alright-” You laugh, pushing up to sit in front of him, reaching out before he takes your wrists in his hands, holding them down.

“No- I just, never do any- anything like this- It’s like I can’t stop-” Even through his apologies he’s staring at your lips, that hunger pooling in his chest for another sweet taste.

“You’re telling me I get to kiss the boy I’ve had a crush on for years, and he’s worried about not being able to stop?” Exasperation was heavy on your face, it’s almost laughable how much playful irritation was in your voice. Toby caught that last part though, the words going straight to his head.

“You gotta crush on me?” He smiles, redness tinting his cheeks. He’s still holding your wrists, your eyes slowly widening as the heat settles on your face.

“I, uhm- Well, you see-” You’re scrambling for words, the cheesy smile on Toby’s face not helping your case at all. “I mean, I thought it was kinda obvious. I dressed up as you for Halloween, man.”

He doesn’t let his conscience weigh him down anymore, pulling your hands to wrap around his neck before he pushes you back down onto the bed, swallowing the sweet taste of your lips against him. He can still taste the sourness of the candy you were eating on your tongue, too. He licks at the plush of your lips, drinking in your gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours. Kissing you like he’ll never be able to again. Because, God, knowing his luck- he probably won’t.

You’re a giggly mess, spreading your knees for him to slot between them, his muscled arms wrapping around the small of your waist. “And I’ve nev- never seen someone be able to pull off my go- goggles so well.” He prays you won’t be able to feel the bulge he’s sporting, but when your legs wrap around his hips, he loses all hope.

Your stomach flutters, tingles across your skin as he’s back on your neck, little nips and kisses that have your back arching off of the comforter, arms tightening around him. He would kiss you forever, marking every inch of your skin with a delicate brush of his lips, he could waste his time like that forever. You wrap your legs around Toby’s waist to pull him closer, feeling the outline of his cock. He grinds against you, letting out low groans at the snag of your clothed core. Both of you knew it- he needed you so badly.

But then you’re pushing your warm hands up the back of his shirt, fingers scorching across his toned muscles and scratching your nails into his skin. You push the top off of his shoulders, up and over his head before throwing it to the side, glancing down at the slim but strong figure looming above you. Scars adorn his skin, long gashes or scattered fragments of bullets that have clipped him, not to mention the littered cigarette burns all down his abdomen. He finds it disgusting, blemishes that he can’t stand to look at.

But you’re tracing them with your fingers, rubbing your thumbs across the blistered burns that made him sick, taking in every inch of him. And smiling. Was it possible to fall in love this fast?

“They’re disgusting.”

“They’re so cool.”

He can’t muster the words to fight you as you’re reaching deeper, pushing your hands further down his torso to snag onto his jeans, reaching for his belt. Toby’s body comes to a rushing halt, his heart beating so hard, the feeling of his cock finally getting the attention it wanted.

His hands rest on either side of your shoulders, a dark shadow over you as you slowly undo his belt, unbuttoning his jeans hastily. Hands dipping past the band of his boxers-

He was big- so mouthwateringly big. Flushed a deep shade of pink at his tip, pulsing in your hand so comfortably- every part of Toby was so endlessly pretty to you. He was gasping, eyes trained on how your fist slowly moved, so hot and heavy in your grasp as you pumped him at a steady, methodical pace. “Ah- Shit…”

Glancing back up to you, your face is so red, lips parted as Toby takes your jaw into his grasp, forcing you to look up at him before he bullies his tongue past your lips, little groans slipping past. Your back arches into him as his hands snake up your shirt, parting from your lips only to push the fabric over your head, capturing your kiss quickly again. He thinks he can manage, thinks he can keep his composure- but then your thumb runs over his slit, precum dribbling out onto your finger, and he's moaning into your mouth like he's never been touched before.

He hasn’t, not like this, not this gentle.

“[Y/N]- Oh God-” You’re biting his bottom lip, fingers clenched tight around the swollen head of his cock and pumping gently, his hips twitching and jerking for more. He pushes off of you, the breathless flush of your face so pretty under him, but then he’s glancing down.

And, fuck.

Your tits sit so pretty in your bra, blushed skin laid out beneath him as shaky hands reach to unbutton your jeans, jerky fingers quickly tugging them down your thighs and onto the floor below. And then he can’t believe how he's gone this long without you, or how he'll be able to survive another night if you’re not with him. 

Where you admire his blemishes, he admires your perfection. Not a nasty knife scar or bullet nip anywhere on you, skin so soft and warm, his cold hands running across your smooth hips. “Gorgeous.” It’s the only thing he can think to say, but it doesn't do you any justice.

“Let me- Can I touch you? Pl- Please-”

You don’t answer, just rising up off of the bed to reach behind your back, unclipping your bra so seamlessly as it falls off your shoulders. Toby nearly moans when you toss the fabric to the side, chest rising and falling with shaky breaths, tits so round and heavy- so pretty.

Falling to your side, he’s holding you close, one leg draping over his bony hip as he shimmies his jeans off. Your legs spread wide, hands gripped tight into the softness of his curls as rough lips wrap around your nipple. You’re gasping, skin fluttering with every touch across your abdomen, cold fingers slowly trailing down just below your belly button. He stays there, tongue pressing flat across your nipple as the pads of his digits line the hem of your panties, teasing as you buck your hips up, silently begging for him to go lower.

The brunette’s fingers were now rubbing against your folds through your panties, causing you to jerk at the friction. He playfully nipped at your collarbone before glancing up at you through heavy eyelids. “My turn, pretty girl.”

“Toby- hah- Yeah-” His free hand wraps behind your back, cradling you into his side as he pinches at your unattended nipple, rolling the bud between his fingers. He smiles against your tit, a long sigh of relief when you feel his fingers break past the line of your panties.

His fingers dip into the warm folds of your cunt, dipping down to collect your arousal on his digits, messily swiping across your plushy lips. You’re already soaked just from kissing, Toby popping off of your nipple to snag your lips, kissing you hungrily as you pant into his mouth. His fingers circle your clit, the nub pulsing and jerking at his touch, hips rising and falling as they chase the sensation. “Jesus- You’re soaked.”

Swirling deftly around the sensitive nub, you gasp, heat so prominent on your cheeks. “Don’t worry, I go- got you.” He’s unable to decide between sucking harshly on your poor nipples, or soaking his tongue in the warmness of your mouth, lips glistening with his saliva. And it’s driving you mad, keening and pulling at his soft locks. You’ve never been touched like this before, and Toby didn’t know if he would be able to stop.

Then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your gummy pussy, the tips of his long fingers massaging your plushy walls. You cry out, breaking from his kiss and giving him a good excuse to snag back onto your tit, gently biting on your reddened nipple.

He’s pumping his fingers rhythmically, curling them in a way that has your eyes fluttering shut, fingers tugging his hair so hard it makes him groan at the pressure. His digits glisten in the low light, hand stretching the fabric of your panties He’s hitting that little spot each and every time., looking like he was absolutely in heaven as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your nipple, lips wrapped tight around the skin.

“Sh- Shit, Toby-” You groan, grinding your hips down as he stuffs his fingers all the way to the knuckle, the two middle digits spreading and pressing against your walls, coaxing your legs to spread wider. His palm bumps against your clit, holding his hand there to press firm against the bundle of nerves, your jaw hanging loose when he leans up to go in for more kisses. He is all over you, barely able to breathe as he ravages your skin, fingers bullying their way deeper until you can feel yourself gushing across his palm. The noises are so lewd, the schlick, schlick of your wet cunt taking him back in, walls clenching around his thick fingers. You can’t stand it, can’t take it anymore-

Toby can see it in your face, in the way you stop kissing him back to let out a long, guttural moan that has him in bliss. His fingers beat faster, fucking your swollen cunt open as his unattended cock throbs and leaks against your thigh, begging to replace his fingers.

“S’good Toby. Fuck. Right there- Don’t stop.” And then your arms are wrapping around his head, cradling his face into your neck as you fall apart on his fingers, pussy gushing and practically dripping with your orgasm. You think maybe you see stars, or it’s just the freckles on the brunette’s skin when he captures your lips, drinking up every moan you feed him.

His cock is wilting, throbbing, and twitching against your leg as you finally settle out, breathy groans that have you both staring at each other through heavy gazes. He slips his hand from your ruined panties, pulling your knee up higher to spread your legs more as he slides the fabric from your hips and tosses them somewhere unseen, taking his cock in his soaked fingers. 

Your breath hitches at the way he drags his swollen head teasingly across your slit, pooling your slick on his achingly hard tip, smearing your juices with his cockhead as he pumps himself lazily. It’s so torturously good, his face disappearing into the crook of your neck as he gently nibbles your burning skin. “Need you so bad, Toby.” You breathe out, nearly panting. “Co- Condom. In the nightstand-”

Despite wanting to feel you, really feel you wrapped around him, he kisses just below your jaw before rolling over. Fishing for a condom in your drawer, he misses you sitting up, fresh orgasm giving you a rush of need as you watch him haul the packet in between his fingers.

Because then you’re pushing his shoulders down onto the bed, straddling his thighs as you snag the condom from him, quickly tearing open the packet. Toby watches with excitement, hands reaching to cradle against the sides of your thighs, fingers digging into your plush skin when you slowly slide the latex down his throbbing length. It’s snug, but thin, able to feel every pulse of your cunt as you take the base of him in your hand, swiping his tip along your folds, wetting himself. It was all the preparation you were going to give yourself because fuck Toby needed to be inside your pussy right now.

Then you feel like you’re being split apart- Toby’s cock was slowly pushing up into your warmth as he presses through the first ring of muscle. Before you can overthink, you’re nudging your hips down gently. So agonizingly gentle that Toby has to stop his hips from riding off the bed. And you can do nothing more than let out barely-audible whispers of his name as you seat yourself on his throbbing cock into your snug cunt. “Ah- Hah-”

You feel so full. So drunk off of the delicious burn of your pussy, hands resting on his chest as he watches you. 

You’re so nauseously tight, gripping his length in a way that had his eyes rolling back, fingers digging red marks into your skin. You’re both breathless, eyes clamped shut and bodies shaky when your hips finally meet his, so utterly full of him. Toby can’t even find the words for it.

That’s when you hear voices from outside your closed bedroom door, Avery and her friends returning from whatever drunken night they had, loud as ever.

In a panic, you push your hands over Toby’s mouth, the brunette’s hot breath fogging against your skin as he smiles, waiting patiently as they all file into Avery’s room, voices slowly dwindling out. Meanwhile, you’re pulsing around him, cunt clenching as you’re forced to wait.

But eventually it's all clear, palm slowly letting off of his mouth, a teasingly smile plastered on his face. You roll your eyes, quietly laughing as you steady yourself, pushing your knees further against his sides. You’re pulling your hips up eagerly, achingly fucking yourself at a slow, sensual pace. His tip kisses your cervix as you roll your hips sensually against his, making sure you feel every vein and twitch against your tight walls.

“Y’looked so beau- beautiful tonight. So pretty dressing up as me.” Toby gasps, running his hands across your thighs, up the sides of your waist as you dig your knees into the mattress. It sends shivers down your spine, ones that go directly to your clit as you lean forward, pressing your chest against his. Sweaty forehead meeting his, he leans up to meet your pitiful kiss, hips still pushing back as your clit rubs against his abs.

Surprised moans get choked in his throat as you rock your hips back and forth, pulling all the way up till his furiously flushed tip is teasing your sloppy hole, slick glistening on his length, just to nudge yourself down again, relishing in that full feeling. 

Wrapping his hands around the back of your thighs, he massages the plushness of your ass, smiling to himself when you wrap your arms around his neck and hide your face into the crook of his neck. “More, Toby.”

“O- Okay…” He breathes, bending his knees to get a better angle, the divot of his cock pressing against that sweet spot and making you mewl. The weight of you on top of him is so satisfying.

Toby starts up a satisfyingly good pace, thrusts get deeper and deeper until he finally buries his cock into you as deep as it could go. Throaty groans spill out of his mouth, he looks over and kisses your forehead gently, taking in every moan and whine you muffle into his neck. “Oh- hah! Yeah, yeah, yeah-”

Even if his body was exhausted, he couldn’t feel it. All he could tell was that your cunt was gripping him so hard his jaw was clenched, grinding his teeth as he fucked himself up into that sweet warmth. “So good- Oh, feels so good-”

“Oh god. Toby, right there-” You gasp out in pleasure, starting to move in shallow thrusts that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head, the curve of his cock knocking that swollen sweet spot over and over, each thrust more prominent than the last. You bounce your ass back on him, meeting every thrust that he delivers so deep into the swell of your pussy, clit aching and throbbing as it rubs against his hard abs. “You’re so- doing so good, baby-” He huffs.

Feeling that very familiar coil in your abdomen, you mewl, “Toby- I’m gonna-”

But then his thrusts halt, hands reaching further up your back to hold onto you tightly, sitting both you and him up as he crawls up onto his knees. He’s got your weight in his arms, cock still nestled so deeply inside of you as you wrap your limbs around him, leaning in to kiss along his jawline sticky with sweat.

He gives up thrusting now, hips rutting and grinding into you in a way that has you moaning deep and long, cunt throbbing with the ache for release. He’s in so deep- so full. 

Kissing against your rose cheeks, he looks at you with fucked-out eyes, trying his best to ride out the last of this moment as he feels his gut pool with warmth. His arms reach around your slender back to dig his nails into the unblemished skin, holding you as close as he physically could. It felt so perfect. Your hips grind back to meet Toby’s, thighs trembling as they cling to his hips. “Shit, [Y/N], I think yo- you were made for me.”

And then you’re capturing his lips, breathy moans as you feel him throb inside you.

“Close?” 

“Mhm…” He sighs, leaning down to kiss along your shoulder.

You grind your hips deeper, chasing that heavy feeling that builds in your gut, clinging onto whatever you can grab of his skin, brushing your hands up into his hair and pulling. “Hngh- Toby. Inside- ” You whimper, overstimulated, and your senses filled with only the brunette, you finally cum, riding it out on his deep thrusts. “Oh, fu- fuck. Gonna cum. Gonna cum, my pretty girl- Hngh-” He moans out as your pussy clenches down on him, finally tipping over the edge as well.

You feel Toby cum in hot spurts into the condom, rasping your name over and over as if it was the only word he knew. He collapses onto you, careful not to crush you with his full body weight as he pants against your neck, slowly tugging himself from your gooey warmth.

As you both come down from your highs, he quickly removes the condom and hugs your sweaty body closer to his, kissing along your neck and up to the corner of your mouth. Eventually, he climbs off of your bed, searching your messy floor for his boxers, tossing you his t-shirt which you happily pull on. 

He fishes new panties from your dresser- quietly spazzing out at all the different colored bras and matching bottoms you had to choose from- and tugs on his own boxers.

Every movement after that is laced with exhaustion, tired, sticky bodies shuffling under the covers as you cling to his side, breathing in his smell like it’ll be the last time you do. He’ll make sure it’s not.

Flipping your lamp off, the only glow is from your TV, dim lights reflecting off of your still-rosy skin. He takes every moment to kiss along your cheeks, brushing your hair from your face, and cradling your body tight against him. He doesn’t really remember how you coaxed him into taking off the wrap on his hand- with the false promise that you would change the soiled bandages out tomorrow- but you do, unraveling the fabric until that horrific proxy symbol contrasted against his pale skin. A mark, a reminder of who he was returning to when the sun rose tomorrow.

He promised to let himself have tonight, but he knew that tonight wasn’t going to last forever.

But then you’re bringing his hand to your lips, placing a sweet, deep kiss right at the center of his palm. And he melts. He wasn’t lying when he said he thought you were made for him, the sour look on his face disappearing when he was cupping your cheeks, pulling you impossibly closer to kiss against your skin.

You kissed against the scar on his cheek, soft lips on jagged flesh, and he knew.

You spend the rest of the night fishing stories from him, things he promised he would never tell, but find your reactions just too good at the mention of Masky and Tim. Your obsession seemed to run deeper than him, but he was your favorite.

-

Toby would have never felt the dip in the bed beside him, or the fingers that messed in his hair, but he did feel the fist that clenched onto his jaw much harder than you ever could’ve.

“Rise and shine, twitch.” Jeff, in all of his ugliness, sat on the edge of the bed, teasingly patting Toby’s cheeks. The brunette sat up, pushing the killer off of him and out of the bed, hoarse little chuckles erupting as he felt you stir next to him.

“How the fuck did you get here?”

“Front door, duh. You sent me your location last night, remember?” Toby noticed through your open bedroom door that your front door was swung wide open, the killer smiling with satisfaction, but his face slowly dropped when he saw you slowly sit up.

“Toby? Wha-” You see Jeff, Toby ready to reach out and clamp your mouth shut, prepping for a terrified scream. But then you’re sitting up, Jeff awkwardly glancing back and forth between you two as your lips part. “No way.”

Toby should’ve known better.

Because then you’re bombarding the killer, sitting on the edge of the bed, and studying every detail of his face, fangirling, of all things. Toby smiles, laughing to himself as you banter on and on about newsletters and obscure websites, Jeff casting you concerning looks as you recount his entire backstory. 

-

It’s well into the afternoon by the time Jeff finally pushes Toby to leave, barking about how he was supposed to have him back hours ago. The killer would never admit it, but they were only there that long because he enjoyed hearing someone harp on how good of a killer he was, complimenting him like he had always wanted.

Jeff’s already in the truck waiting as Toby kisses your face, kissing against your hands as fear courses him, fear that this will be the last time. But then you’re grabbing his phone, typing in your number, and sending yourself a text. A promise.

“For whenever you want to stop by ;)”

Followed by your address.

And then he’s back on the road, Jeff harping on and on about how ‘you weren’t that bad’ or ‘if Toby wasn’t careful he’d snatch you up.’ He couldn’t hear him though, too busy studying every detail of the photo you had sent him, the two of you smiling half-drunk in that elevator. It was already his wallpaper by the time they made it back to the mansion.

And he was already making plans on how he could sneak away tonight to come see you.

God, how he loved Halloween.

Thanks for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

Thanks to my wonderful editors @h3llw1 and @solarbites!

Happy Halloween!

[ifwdominicfike]

matt loves to feed into your love for his hands.

── .✦. ──

this is the 3rd time today you’ve caught yourself staring at matts arms, if it wasn’t his arms it was his hands. the way the veins spread out and then trailed up to his forearms, you were practically drooling.

he knows this too, he’s caught you staring at him multiple times. he hasn’t told you anything yet though, watching you watch his every move when he wears a tank top or when he’s playing videos games with his brothers, he knows you’re staring.

how could you not though?? he was basically teasing you at this point, like the other day for example, he had gotten some new rings and was desperate to show you them.

“sweetheart come look at these new rings i got” you make your way to your shared bedroom and see him staring at his hands, flexing them making the veins more prominent. that infamous grin while doing so is telling you everything you needed to know.

your eyes fixating on his hands immediately, the way he stretched out his fingers to show off the rings made your thighs clench.

noticing the gleam across your face made his grin widen, “you like them doll? or are ya’ gonna keep ogling at them hm?” he takes your hand into his and start peppering kisses to your knuckles. you couldn’t take it anymore, his teasing words, his stupid grin, just him. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into you, your lips locking with his and you feel a hand cup your jaw and the other grip onto your hair.

“y’think you’re so fucking slick huh? staring at me like that with your thighs clenched like i wouldn’t notice, needy girl” he continues down your neck as his hands roam down your body, you gasp at the sudden movement of you being picked up. you’re back now lying against his white sheets “pl..please! matt- need you s’bad” you whine “gotta be more specific than that baby, what do you need from me sweet girl?” he grips onto your legs and places them on his shoulders “pl-please baby.. don’t t-tease me-“

your voice becoming more and more needy “aw, poor thing can’t take a little bit of teasing? such a desperate whore.” he starts sliding off your shorts, those being thrown and forgotten somewhere in the room while he stuffs your lace panties in his back pocket.. “so soaked f’me, all this over what? my hands?” he laughs in your face, tracing his fingers up and down your slick. you yelp out once you feel him slap your cunt, that same stupid grin on his face as he watched you squirm.

“fuck matt- come on pleasee, been such a g-good girl f’you” you grind against his hand, aching for any kind stimulation what so ever. “okay sweetheart, i guess you’ve had enough” you hum in agreement, you feel his slim fingers dip into you, the feeling of the cool metal from the rings sending goosebumps down your spine. “o-oh! mhm.. please!” you pleaded “yeah? s’this all you needed baby? dumb girl just needed my fingers thats all”

- avery’s note ˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡-

first smut!! i was thinking of making this a full fic but i didnt.. anyways school has been beating me up pray for me 😞 okayy well thats all for now bye i love youu ᥫ᭡ !!

[ellecdc]

*chanting* One of Us

request from @redeyesthicthighs : I was thinking about a fox animagus… maybe a slytherin reader, in England red foxes can be seen as more of a pest & reader using the pest title as a way to get away with shit in her animagus form. maybe the boys don’t know it’s an animagus they are seeing high tailing it out of rooms after some disaster has struck but it’s happened now one too many times to be a coincidence

poly!prongsfoot x animagus!reader who is totally one of them [1.2k words]

CW: implied fem!reader, feeding laxatives to birds (is not cool, do not do this)

“Well,” Lily announced with a sigh as she sat down heavily beside Remus at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, across from James and Sirius, “your little pet was at it again.” 

“Now, that’s no way to talk about Pete, Evans.” Sirius chided, causing Peter to nearly choke on the bite he just took as he made to defend himself. 

“Not him, you sod.” She grumbled, though Sirius could see the ghost of the smirk she was working hard to fight off. “That pesky little fox you guys love so much.”

At this, both Sirius and James froze, the latter letting his fork fall from mid-air and the former placing his cup of pumpkin juice rather forcefully beside his plate.

“She was back!?” They chorused, causing Remus to snort.

“She? How do you know it’s a she?”

“Just a hunch.” James offered with a shrug whilst Sirius grilled Lily.

“Where? When?”

“Here we go…” Remus muttered. 

“The greenhouses. When I got to Herbology, Professor Sprout was chasing it-”

“-her-” James corrected.

“-her out of greenhouse three,” Lily continued, narrowing her eyes at the Head Boy to her Head Girl, “she’d eaten all the shrivelfig fruit, dug up all the knotgrass, and made herself a little nest out of the dittany! It took the whole class period just to help the Professor clean and repot everything.”

And though Sirius could tell Lily was quite perturbed by the whole thing, he couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped his lips. “Okay, that’s the fourth time this week alone.”

“Fourth time, what?” Peter asked then.

Sirius and James shared a smirk before turning back to their friends. “The fox is one of us.” James declared.

“One…of us?” Remus asked slowly, clearly not following. 

“She’s a fellow prankster.” Sirius offered simply.

Lily snorted. “I hardly think a fox doing very fox-like things constitutes pranking, boys. They’re known to be pests.”

“You take that back!” James hollered rather suddenly, causing Lily to recoil slightly and Sirius to wrap a comforting arm around his waist in consolation. 

“I think this fox is a little more mischievous than typical foxes.” Sirius clarified. “Earlier this week, she could be found in the library stealing nearly finished essays right out of the hands of Mulciber, Avery, and Snape before tossing the torn up parchment into the fire.” 

“There’s no way that was accidental.” James stated solemnly. “And after Gilderoy Lockhart was heard bragging in the courtyard that he’d snogged nearly half of the school, the fox chased him in circles before she tripped him, causing him to land right in the fountain!”

“Oh, and you should have seen the look on Filch’s face when he found muddy paw prints all over the Trophy Room, right after he’d given some first year Hufflepuff’s detention for “snickering too loudly” - outside, mind you - and made them clean the entire room without magic.” Sirius continued, still rather indignant on the first years’ behalf. 

“Well…ripping parchment, tracking mud, and running around are all typical fox behaviours.” Peter tried, but both Lily and Remus hummed thoughtfully. 

“No, no…I think you’re right, James.” Remus offered, looking at James pointedly. “I think you’re absolutely right, she is ‘one of us’.” 

Padfoot did his best to hold his breath when he heard movement in the greenhouses, recognizing that the noise wasn't coming from where he’d left James under the invisibility cloak. 

Sure enough, after the sounds of snuffling and foliage rustling ceased, a small red fox popped out between two large bushes. 

An excited yip left her mouth as she hopped up onto the workbenches, carefully tiptoeing - if foxes could even do such a thing - around everyone’s pots until she made it to McLaggen’s workbench, knocking the pots clean off before they fell with a shatter to the stone floor, terracotta splintering and soil spilling out of them as the fox looked over the edge to appreciate her handiwork.  

Padfoot took that moment to step out from his hiding spot, making it almost right under the foxes nose before she happened to notice that she wasn’t alone. She arched her back not unlike a Halloween cat and made some sort of breathy spitting sound before she spun on the spot and made to launch herself off of the table in the opposite direction.

Unfortunately for her, James had been standing on the other side of the bench waiting for her to do just that, catching the fox in a throw blanket from their dorm and wrapping it tightly around her. 

“Easy, easy. Oi! You’re fine!” James placated, wrestling with the fumbling ball of linen before arranging it so the foxes body remained snuggly in the blanket but her head poked out. “No biting.”

James flinched at a snap of her jaw, though Padfoot noticed she didn’t even try to reach for the hand that was currently holding the blanket shut which was well within her reach - she didn’t actually want to bite him. 

Padfoot shifted back into Sirius and leaned his elbows against the workbench. “You’ve been giving us a run for our money with the mischief.” He commented, causing the fox’s head to whip towards him where her eyes narrowed comically. “I’d say I’m miffed but, I hate lying.”

If foxes could scoff, this one just did. 

“The jig is up, L/N.” James whispered, causing the fox to return her attention back to James as she stared at him incredulously, Sirius’ lips twisting into a smirk. James had been hiding under the invisibility cloak with the map as they waited…he’d seen exactly who it was that was sneaking into the greenhouse. 

“Don’t worry,” Sirius called over to gain your attention, “your secret is safe with us.” And to punctuate his point, he spun on the spot to turn back into Padfoot to prove that - Remus had been right - you were one of them.

You let out what had to be a sigh as you went no bones in James’ hold - clearly in capitulation - as he released you from your blanketed prison and placed you back onto the workbench. 

You melted back into your human form, sitting prettily on the edge of the table with your legs crossed looking casual for all intents and purposes as you looked between James and what was now once again Sirius. 

“Why foil my fun just to promise not to tell?” You asked sceptically. 

“Oh, you misunderstand, gorgeous,” Sirius drawled, relishing in the way your burning gaze narrowed at his endearment (or for insinuating you’d been wrong about something, Sirius wasn’t sure), “we don’t want to foil your fun at all.”

“We want in.” James explained, a wicked glint in his eye (that never failed to turn Sirius on) as he smiled at you.

And that's how the following day, one could find a fox and large black dog near the Black Lake herding a flock of seagulls - that had just feasted on chips dusted with heavy amounts of fibre - towards a group of unsuspecting fifth years who had just destroyed some first years’ forts built out of branches for a laugh.

Well who’s laughing now?

(James, mostly, from his place at the bridge where he watched the chaos from a safe distance from the eliminating birds.)

[luveline]

kbd —You gather the family consensus on a fifth baby. mom!reader x dad!Steve, 2k

The first baby you and Steve have is a ringer for him. She’s his copy down to the eyelashes, and she has his good heart. She’s a good sister, a beautiful daughter, and she’s a brilliant student. 

But growing up makes you curious.

“Mom, why are you in the bathroom again?” 

You laugh nervously. “What?” you ask, gaze on your hands. 

“You’ve been in here like ten times today! Are you okay?” 

She sound so, so cute when she’s suspicious. Her voice twists up and her concern feels too big. She knows it’s not normal to go to the bathroom this many times and she’s clearly not okay with this new development. 

She knocks the door hard. “Do you need me to get dad?” 

You open the door and pull her in quickly. She giggles, startled to be grabbed and put on the counter, her hair falling into her eyes the same wavy pattern as her dads. He’s got strong genes. Steve stamps the kids as Harrington’s, all except your Beth, who looks just like you. 

“Mom, what the heck is going on?” 

“I’m gonna ask you a huge question and you have to tell me your first answer. Don’t worry about anything else. Be honest, okay?” 

“Okay. You’re making me nervous.” 

You show her your pregnancy test. “You know what this means?” 

She wrinkles her nose. “Did you pee on that?” 

“I did. Babe, do you know what that means, though?” 

“You’re having another baby?” Avery guesses. You go quiet. She beams at you. “Wait! Wait, mom, are you having another baby?” 

“I don’t know yet.” One positive test and six negatives makes you think it was a mistake, but you’ve been pregnant four times before. You’re starting to feel like an expert. “If I did have another baby, what would you think?” 

She tips her head back. You put the test aside and take her smaller hands into yours. She’s so pretty, all your babies are beautiful, and they’re all so special, and maybe you do want another one. Is that crazy? 

You nibble your lip as Avery thinks. 

“Well, we need a bigger house.” 

You nod agreeably. “We do.” 

“I love being a big sister.” 

“You’re the best one there ever was.” 

Avery holds your hands back, still smiling. “Well, mommy, I think it’s good. Then I will have four sisters. That’s even more than Stacey K.” 

You look her dead in the eye, but it’s all love pouring between you both. “So if mommy wants to have another baby, that’s okay? You’d be happy?” 

Avery puckers for a kiss, which you give. You wrap your arms around her and push her head into your neck. “Have another baby if you want, mommy,” she says, laughing, “I love babies. Um, most of the time. More now you got us the sound machine.” 

“Avery… don’t tell anybody, okay? Can we keep this our secret? I don’t know if I’m gonna have another one yet. I need to make sure everyone’s happy first.” 

Avery pats your back. It’s adorable. “Sure, mommy.” 

You ask Beth, next. Stealing her away from her colouring sometime later that day, you pull your second eldest against your chest outside in the back yard and watch the clouds move in the sky as it changes from blue to carnation pink. “Bubby?” 

“Yeah?” Beth asks. 

“Can I ask you a secret question?” 

“Yes.” She looks away from the sky. “Why?” 

“Because I care about what you think, okay?” 

“I know.” 

You ask Beth if another baby would be too many. She says no. She says she needs a brother, maybe twins if you can manage it, but it’s fine if you can’t. You kiss her cheek and spend another ten minutes with her staring up at the changing colours.

The first test being positive rocked your world. You were happy, but shocked to find yourself grinning at the two pink lines, because you thought four was enough. There’s a few years between each of your girls and you’d never expect to be pregnant again so soon after the last —you and Steve had one good night a fortnight ago. Wren’s not even a year old. 

Why do you want another baby so badly? 

You kiss Beth again. You love your kids, and you finally, finally got that promotion at work, and you’d been thinking about moving anyway, because two of the girls are sharing a room. You didn’t bring it up in fear of upsetting your sentimental husband before it was necessary. All your babies grew up here. This is where you and Steve started your life, and it’s never perfect but it’s amazing, and he’ll not want to leave it. 

He would be much happier if you left to make room for another baby, though. 

If you ask Dove what she thinks, she’ll probably say yes and grumble, and then spill the secret, so you don’t ask, but you watch her carefully for a while when Steve demands you and Beth come back inside. 

You let Beth run off and sit down. 

“You’ll catch a bug,” he says, leaning over your seat at the kitchen table to kiss your cheek. “You’re already freezing.” 

“We were watching the sun go down.” 

“Watch from the window.” He squints at you, his arms wrapping around your front. “Something wrong?” 

“No.”

“Okay, liar.” He taps your chin until you lift it and kisses you soundly. “It’s a good thing you’re this beautiful. You wouldn’t get away with your shit if you weren’t.” 

“My shit.” 

He grins into another kiss. “Sorry,” he says, kissing you softly. “I’m kidding, I love you, don’t frown at me.” 

You entrap him for a skewiff hug. He couldn’t be more eager, nosing at your cheek, the baby and Dove giggling at something where they sit at the table eating skinny banana slices. 

“They’re like us,” Steve says, following your gaze, “best friends.” 

You push him away from you gently. “Shush. Don’t you have stuff to do?” 

“I bet you think so. But no, I don’t, I’ve done everything.” 

Four kids is a lot, and somehow you and Steve have gotten really, really good at being their parents. You have four healthy, happy girls, with all the food they could ever eat and more princess dresses than they could ever wear. Now it’s six thirty on a Saturday and all that’s left to do is watch some TV. 

Maybe you’re an idiot to mess this up. 

“I need to pee really badly, so watch the baby.” 

“Jerk,” you say. You do not need to be told to watch your own baby. 

He snickers as he leaves. 

It was the high of the test. That first positive test was just a shock, is all. Your life is perfect now, nothing needs to change, because Steve loves you more and more everyday, and you adore him —you’d do anything for him and your girls. You and Steve would treasure another baby, but some things aren’t meant to be. 

But– but you could have another one. So you’re not pregnant right now, so what? Steve would have another baby with you if you asked. He’d probably spin you around in circles and call you the best, sweetest woman alive. You could spend the next nine months on the couch and he’d still think that way. 

“Baby?” Steve calls. 

“What, dad?” Bethie asks. 

“Not you, baby. Mommy, can you come here?” 

Your system gets another shock. Shit, the bathroom. 

You grab Wren to her horror and Dove’s jealousy and chug her along to the bathroom. You could’ve left her in her high chair, but soft bananas are a scary task for an unsupervised baby who eats mash for every meal.

Steve’s waiting in the doorway. It’s a small bathroom, and you can see as quickly as he can the mess of pregnancy strip tests you left on top of the bathroom trash can. There’s two in his hand. 

“Steve, I was gonna tell you about it,” you say, frowning. 

He frowns back. “Yeah?” he asks. 

“Really. I mean, obviously I would have,” —you tell each other everything— “but I was trying to work out how I feel, and the girls too. Avery always wants more sisters and Beth said she wants a brother and–” You smile. “I know I said we were done having babies for a while, if ever again, I know that was me, but when I thought I was pregnant again I got this rush of happiness going through me like a wave.” You shift Wren and her frowning higher up your chest. She’s appeased by a quick kiss pressed to the top of her head. “I don’t know why but I think I really want another baby.” 

He leans against the doorway, his arms crossing, with a strange expression playing on his mouth. 

“You can probably tell. I took like, twenty tests,” you exaggerate, embarrassed by your impromptu speech. “I kept hoping they’d come up positive. I got one positive first and the rest were negative, so I guess it was just a fluke.” 

“Ohhh,” he says, smiling around it. “Oh, that makes more sense.” 

“What makes sense?” 

“I think they just needed a little more time to cook, honey. They’re all positive.” He isn’t good at hiding how happy he feels. “You really want another one?” 

He’s achingly hopeful. 

You close the gap between you to lean on him and check the tests. “It must be super early,” Steve murmurs. 

“Well, it was only two and a half weeks ago,” you murmur back, seeing the double pink lines for yourself. Both tests are positive. “The ones in there, they’re…” 

“They’re all positive. When was the last time you had your eyes tested?”

“It was dark in there,” you joke, not sure what to say, even as a crest of pure joy begins to rise through your entire body. Your hands hum. 

“You want another baby?” he asks, pulling you tightly against him. “Then let’s have another baby. Let’s do it. You can have everything you want.” 

You stare at him. 

He nods. “We can do it. Let’s have another baby.” 

Heat in your eyes, the barest line of tears in your waterline as you give him a one-armed hug. “You want to?” you ask. 

He breathes out by your ear. “That’s a dumb question. And it’s pretty good luck, right? I mean, we weren’t trying, I didn’t even know you wanted another one, so for it to catch…” He does that groaning pleased thing where he buries his nose against the side of your face. 

“I didn’t know until the test was in my hand.” 

He laughs happily into your skin before he pulls away. He kisses you, he kisses Wren, and he flicks your tummy gently. “Holy shit, that’s a lot of Harringtons.” 

You get another loving kiss for all your efforts. “Steve?” you ask, eyes still closed, his face hovering just an inch away from your own. 

“What, honey?” He says it like light of my life, angel, sweetheart, all the devotion you're used to. 

“We’re probably gonna have to move.” 

“Are you kidding? I already figured it all out. We’re gonna convert the attic.” 

You laugh as he dots a kiss against your cheek. “We are?” 

“I got a quote a couple of months ago, I figured if Beth and Avery got too picky we could give Avery a new room upstairs. But it’ll still work, don’t you think?” 

You finally descend into giggly happy tears and Steve pretends he’s immune, but you hear him sniffing as you stroke Wren's chubby cheek with your finger. “What do you think, sweetheart?” you ask softly. “Do you want a baby sister? How about a brother? What are you thinking?” 

She gurgles her own laugh. “Da,” she says, pointing at Steve like he’s funny. 

“Do I get to decide?” Steve asks her, gasping happily. 

Steve has a lot more to say about it all later that night when the kids are sleeping, baby Wren on his chest, just for an hour before you both sleep too. 

He starts with asking if you’re sure, which you are for now, then the scary stuff, because you got really exhausted last time and it’s not going to be easier. He talks so much and you just lay there, in awe, because he means what he told you. You can have everything you want. Steve’s gonna make sure of it. 

“I’ll get you some prenatals in the morning, okay?” he promises, stroking hearts into Wren’s sleeping back. 

You shift over the pillow to kiss his cheek. “Thanks, H. I love you.” 

“I love you so much I don’t think you get it,” he says, tipping his head your way.

But you do. It’s why five kids feels like a gift, and not a curse. You get how much he loves you. 

[moremaybank]

Any Dad!JJ? You’re just one of the best at writing him.

dad!jj for the soul !!!!! i hope you enjoy, angel! i really enjoyed writing this one! 🤍

jj's elated when he sees his six year old babygirl, avery, walking out of her classroom. it's three-thirty on the dot, a time jj looks forward to daily when he picks up your daughter and takes her to work with him while they wait for you to meet them there after work.

avery reaches him, and he crouches down to her height so he can press a kiss to her cheek. "hi, babygirl."

"hi, daddy!"

he loves how chipper his little girl gets when she's around him. she lets it be known that she adores his presence, and that's what he's always dreamed of as a parent.

"mama killed it on your hair today," he says. he yanks gently at one of the braids you'd put into her hair earlier this morning. "look at these. phew. think my babygirl's a model."

she giggles at her father's affectionate words, cheeks heating with love. her squeals grow louder when jj scoops her up and makes his way to his truck. he buckles her into her booster seat, ruffling up the top of her hair playfully before shutting the door and getting into the driver's seat.

"hey, daddy?"

"'sup, aves?" he asks, pulling out of the parking lot and starting on the journey to the auto shop.

"what colours do boys like best?"

he arches a brow. "what d'ya mean, sweet girl?"

"dunno...like what colour do you like most on mama?"

"hmmm," jj says, pondering out loud. "that's a hard one, baby. i think your mama looks good in everythin'."

an adorable huff escapes her pursed lips. "daddy. 'm serious. you have to pick one."

the truck zooms down the road, passing by avery's favourite fast food joint. jj can't help but speed up just a smidge, hoping and praying that she won't look out the window and wrangle a chicken finger combo out of him. 'cause then he'd have to get one for her. he's never said no to his princess and he doesn't plan on changing that any time soon.

"mm, i guess i'd say red. i like when she wears that matching lipstick too."

jj looks up at the rear view mirror, catching the way avery nods before a presumable heat takes over her face. the dimple she'd gotten from him peeks through as she smiles to herself.

"what're you smilin' about?"

"nothing, daddy. i just think i'm gonna wear red for the dance tomorrow."

he arches a brow, but he doesn't push her on her answer. "whatever you want, babygirl."

˖ . ݁ 𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

jj hears the click-clacking of high heels against the floors of the auto-shop, and he doesn't need to wheel out from underneath the station wagon he's working on to know it's you.

"hi, mommy!" avery greets cheerfully, getting off the spinning chair jj had secured for her from the break room. she runs over to you as quickly as her smaller feet can manage, and you meet her with an equally thrilled grin. you pick her up and squeeze her into a tight hug.

"hi, baby." you smooth down some of her frizz. "how was school?"

"it was good. chrissy shared her chocolate bar with me, and kyle gave me a flower at recess."

neither of you can see it, but jj makes a face under the car.

kyle? who the fuck was kyle?

"he's a good best friend to you, baby," you tell her. "did you thank him?"

"yes. and he's not my best friend anymore, mama. he's my boyfriend."

this time, you do see jj's reaction. or, rather, hear it anyway.

"what?!"

something that sounds like a bang rings through the air, followed by a shit (to which your daughter snickers, always one to find her father hilarious). then, he rolls out from beneath the vehicle, rubbing his forehead to ease the sharp pain. his eyes find your daughter's, though, and he's as stern as you've ever seen him.

"aves— you can't have a boyfriend!"

"daddy, i'm six. i'm not a baby," avery reminds him, sounding every bit like a teenager instead of her actual age. the sass never failed to make you smile.

just like her daddy.

"yes, you are still a baby! my baby!"

"j—" you interject.

"nah. nope. no way."

"why don't you go back over there and colour, angel?" she nods, and you set her down, watching as she runs back to her chair. she takes a sip of her apple juice, bringing her attention back to her artwork.

deciding she's not at all bothered by jj's theatrics, you walk over to him and help him stand. you look up into his cerulean eyes when he towers above you. "babe, relax. she's six."

"exactly! she's a baby! she can't have a boyfriend. s'just not happenin'."

you give him a knowing smile, your arms looping around the back of his neck. "you were my boyfriend when we were six," you remind him. "don't think you found anything wrong about that back then."

he frowns, but pulls you in closer by your hips anyway. no matter what, any time he's around you without touching you, it just seems like a waste.

"that's different. i was a nice boy."

you both realize avery's been listening quietly when she chimes in. "kyle's nice too, daddy. he kisses my cheek everyday at the end of school."

she says it like it's a fact. like kyle never misses out on what infuriatingly sounds like a tradition to jj.

jj thinks he's having a stroke.

"he's puttin' his lips on you, now?!" his forehead falls to your shoulder, and he slumps against you like the six-foot baby he is. "oh god, i think i'm gonna be sick." a beat passes, and then he distances himself from you. the sulk is still prominent on his face, and now, it's probably permanent. he pulls at his collar, shifting uncomfortably as he tries to fan himself off. "'m i sweating?"

avery hops down from her chair, strutting over to her father and tugging at the leg of his coveralls, silently requesting that he crouch down to her height. of course, jj immediately falls in line.

"don't be mad, daddy."

"wait, wait, wait— is kyle the reason you're wearin' red tomorrow?!"

"don't worry, daddy." she pats his cheek like he's the one who needs reassurance. to be fair, he clearly is. "kyle's nice. just like you."

and with that, she trots off back to her chair with a cheshire cat smile, clearly feeling accomplished.

"yeah. he better be," jj mutters bitterly, standing back up.

your hands reach out to grab a hold of your husband again, and it draws his attention back to you. your hands frame his face and you give him a smile. "you're gonna be a total nightmare when she grows up and gets a boyfriend or girlfriend for real."

"damn right, i will. like i said, she's my baby."

you raise a brow. "i thought i was your baby?"

his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and then his mouth forms into a smirk. "see now, she's my baby. but you're my baby." his hands migrate down to your ass and he gives you a squeeze. "you pickin' up what i'm puttin' down?"

"oh, i think i am."

concepts ; concepts (ii)

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Little Lupin {Blurb}

James Potter x Lupin!Reader

Part 2 - Part 3

AN: I wrote this on my lunch break, so it's not proof read. Just needed it out of my head RIP.

WC: 1313

“Mate! We are bloody brilliant!” Sirius bellowed out, getting applause from a few of the other red-robes. “Mate! Mate?”

Sirius’s shouts slowly lowered and he looked at James curiously, who was simply staring across the grand hall with heart eyes.

The clatter and hum of students and professors fell on his deaf ears. News of one of the Marauders' newest pranks on Slytherin had sent the hall into a frenzy of giggles and explosive laughter. Watching as the poor Slytherin tried to hide their red hair, the Gryffindors were practically doubled over. Sirius brandishing their win socially while James remained in his own little world.

Eyes on {Y/N} Lupin, who stuck out like a sore thumb. You looked around at your fellow green-robed seatmates and made a playful jab at Dorcas, who then threw a bun at you. Ignoring the glares from Snape and Avery, who were even more pissed that you didn't fall victim to your brother’s trick, you always managed to find some humor in the situation.

Even Regulus Black had his hair dyed; not that he didn't use a potion to change it back instantly. His usual icy demeanor was barely ruffled, but he shot a glance towards you, a mix of curiosity and annoyance. It was no secret that being related to Remus Lupin put {Y/N} in a peculiar position within Slytherin House. Unlike Regulus, she refused to delve deeper than necessary into mediocrity.

"Honestly, you'd think they'd come up with something more original.” You quipped, your eyes twinkling with mischief as you deftly dodged another flying bun.

Dorcas laughed, "Maybe next time they'll get you too, Lupin."

Your shouts across the hall faded further out as Sirius hit James on the shoulder.

“James!” He laughed and James shot up with a loopy smile, glasses sloppy on his face.

“What?” He cheeked, sticking his tongue to his cheek and stealing a glance at you again.

“Oh dude, don't tell me.” Sirius smirked.

James's cheeks flushed slightly as he tried to play it cool, pushing his glasses up to sit properly on his nose. "What are you on about, Pads?" He smirked, a hint of defensiveness in his voice.

Sirius waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "You're gone, mate. Absolutely smitten with {Y/N}, aren't you?"

James's eyes widened, and he quickly looked around to make sure no one was listening in on their conversation. Wrapping his arm around Sirius and yanking him down so they were closer to the table. "Keep your voice down!" He scolded, though his tone was more embarrassed than angry. "It's not like that."

Sirius grinned, like he had just learned the secret of a lifetime. James knew he was screwed. "Sure, sure. You’ve been staring at her for the past ten minutes like she's the Snitch and you’re about to win the Quidditch Cup.”

James opened his mouth to retort, but the words died on his lips as he caught another glimpse of you, laughing and shoving Evan Rosier’s shoulder was he inspected your hair playfully. He couldn't help the small smile that tugged on his lips at your smile, he couldn't even bring himself to be jealous, he'd play with your hair too if you'd let him.

James glanced back at Sirius when he realized he had zoned out again, looking like a guilty puppy as he smiled up at him, talking far louder then he intended to. “You know, Remus’s sister.. she's fit, yeah?”

As if Merlin was having a laugh at their expense, two large hands grabbed their shoulders. Remus peaked his head between them with a chillingly sweet smile, tooth and all.

“I'll cut your eyes out, James.”

James's face went a shade paler as he felt Remus's grip tighten on his shoulders. He gulped audibly, trying to muster a nervous laugh, but it came out as more of a squeak.

"Moony! I-I didn't see you there," James stammered, his eyes wide with a bright nervous smile, trying to play it off.

Remus's smile didn't falter, but his eyes were steely. "Oh, I bet you didn't.” He said, his voice calm but hiding a threat. "Now, what was that about my sister being 'fit'?"

Sirius, deciding to abuse his power as boyfriend, leaned forward to smirk at Remus. “She is though, yeah? It's the Lupin genes. Glad I got mine when I did.”

Remus glared down at Sirius with a scandalized look.

"Sirius.” Remus practically growled through gritted teeth, "I can deal with you later. Right now, I'm more concerned about our dear James."

James looked pleadingly at Sirius, silently begging him to stop making the situation worse. Sirius, however, was having far too much fun to let it go.

"Oh I bet you will.” He smirked and looked Remus up and down before leaning back into his hand. “Come on, Moony.” Sirius chuckled with a playful grin. "It's not like Prongs is planning on asking her out. He's just… appropriating her beauty.”

“Sirius-” James hissed before they were all interrupted.

You had walked up, with a playful glare and a bright smile. “You boys are ridiculous. When I let you into the Slytherin commons I thought it would just be a handful of us. Everyone? You dyed everyone's hair? You laughed in disbelief.

Sirius smirked, crossing his arms. “No clue what you're on about, bird. Do you, Remus?”

“Not a clue.” Remus hummed, playing along with Sirius's game of plausible deniability. Still glaring at James.

“Do you, James?” Sirius then looked down at James who was giving that same love sick look, a million miles away. James snapped back to reality, his eyes widening as he realized you were standing right there. He stammered for a moment, the color returning to his face tenfold. “Uhm- nope,” His voice cracked and he looked like he wanted to die. Looking down at his plate absolutely ready to jump into the black lake.

You couldn't help but laugh at the sight of James looking so disjointed. "It's alright, James. Next time, maybe don't make me guilty by lack of evidence?” You laughed, gesturing to your hair with a teasing wink, though you had no idea just how much that affected him.

James's cheeks flushed even more, if that was possible, and he muttered, "Ya, yeah agreed, {Y/N}."

You curled your eyebrow at him and your smirk deepened. Instead of tease him further, you nodded and turned your attention to Remus. “Hey, Rem, can you help me with my transfiguration study today?”

“Why would I do that?” Remus smirked as you gave a helpless scoff.

“Well.. if you don't, I'll tell Sirius on you.” You challenged and Remus looked down at Sirius as he gave a dramatic gasp.

“Do as she says, Remus, we'd hate for that to happen.” Sirius chuckled and you smirked triumphantly.

“I'm still not done with you.” Remus grumbled to Sirius before he looked at James. “You either.”

“Thank you Rem!” You chirped as turned to leave, meeting up with Dorcas and Pandora at the entrance of the grand hall.

The second the grand doors closed behind you Sirius nearly lost it as he fell over laughing.

Remus covered his mouth and snickered as well as James flushed and hid his face in his hands.

“Merlin! You practically proposed to Lily Evans but you can't even look her in the eyes!?” Sirius fell back and Remus was quick to catch him, equally amused.

James groaned, his face still buried in his hands. "You're not helping, Pads.” He groaned, absolutely mortified, his voice muffled.

Remus shook his head, though he couldn't hide the amusement in his eyes. "I think what Sirius is trying to say, is you need to relax, James. {Y/N} isn't going to bite your head off."

“At least not with that attitude.” Sirius cheeked and earned a hard smack from Remus.

“I'll end you both.”

[bee-wg]

PROLOGUE:

Our family isn’t too big. Ever since my grandparents moved to their cottage by the lake, It's just been the three of us. I don't even bring my teammates or friends home. And all the peacefulness is about to change. 

“Ahh Shit- Sorry!” the fumbling buffoon said. 

“Language, sweetheart. David! Could you help him pick it up? I'm tidying up the kitchen,” My mom replied. 

“Coming!” My dad sprints down the stairs. 

“Oh, Pumpkin, you're all grown up! Are you prepared for the semester?” Dad gestured to the culinary tools scattered across the floor. 

“Yes, of course. Sorry about the mess,” he replied. The “Pumpkin” in question is my cousin, Theo. He's about to attend a college in the city to study culinary arts… or something. And, of course, he’s sharing the room with me. Not for long, though. I have a few buddies who have invited me to share a room with them. They reek, but it's a necessary evil. 

“Jay,” my dad asked, nudging me, “Remember when you guys used to play house together every summer?” 

“Yes, then he bit me and we never talked again,” I deadpanned. 

“Oh come on, he was just a kid,” Dad retorted. 

No, he wasn't. He was a little demon that stole my pretend credit card. My hand still itches thinking about that vicious attack. 

I put down Theo’s luggage and bit back the argument. “I'll go back to the car to see what’s left.” 

“Alright bud, thanks for the help.”

“No problem.” He could probably thank me by asking what happened at football camp, but what do I know? It's not like we haven't talked about football the entire summer. We could be doing that right now, on the deck with some ice-cold beer. But the twinky little “Pumpkin” needs help, and I have the muscle for it. 

God, I wish the summer was over already.

***

“Hahahaha Exactly! I have never seen Chloé like that before.” Dad laughed.

“Right? Who knew mom had sass in her.”

Mom's competitiveness was kicked off by Theo's presence. The kitchen has basically been a war zone for the past two weeks.

Looking down at my watch, the light flashes on.

6 kilometres down, 5 more to go.

It’s been a while since I’ve had a good morning run with Dad like this one. The ocean breeze flowing past my hair and the faint rays of sunrise brought back some old memories. 

Regulating my breathing, we slowed down for a second.

“Damn, son - your stamina has gotten so much better this past year.”

“The football camp really made you put up 20 pounds of pure muscles too, I’m glad I recommended you there.” Dad beamed proudly at me.

“You’re not too bad yourself, for an aging old man.”

I still get the same rush every time he compliments me. It’s like a reassurance that I’m doing something right.

“Hahahaha, you won’t be saying that when you’re one foot in your 40s; it’s basically death by fossilization.”

Dad has always been modest with his body, but everyone who knows him either admires his body, wants him, or is jealous of him and I am the same. Ever since high school I’ve been inspired to be like him. Even with the 15 pounds of muscle I have over him, I’m still lacking in so many ways. He just has the confidence to own it.

“Want some water?”

“Oh, right, of course. Thanks.” I took over the ice-cold bottle.

“About that training camp, I should request the school board to have the team register next summer for the training course. High school kids these days don't care about sports as much no more.” Dad said

“Speaking of which, remember your friend Lancaster who got held back for two years?”

“Yeah, Avery. He used to scold me when I didn’t take the nutrition classes with him. Haven’t hung with him in a while though.”

“Well, he probably won’t scold anymore. The kid got too cocky after getting a full sports scholarship and gained 70 pounds of fat in the summer. The university probably revoked the funds. Hope he didn't take it too hard.”

“Shit, that’s awful. I didn’t expect it to be him out of anyone. He was a damn good receiver.”

We resumed the pace, avoiding some rogue cyclists on the way.

Crazy to think the weight could creep up on Avery Lancaster of all people. I should watch out for myself too. I have good genes from dad so it probably will never happen, but the new influx of delicious food from Theo and my mom’s little competition definitely doesn’t help. At least it keeps the brat out of my room.

“Dad, I think I’m not going to move in with Brad and the guys.”

“Why the sudden change of heart?” 

“Well first of all, as much as I love them, the guys stinks. Second of all, Theo is not as much of a blood-sucking gremlin as he was before. And I don’t think I’m ready to say goodbye to you guys.”

“Plus, How can I leave when the thing with mom just got interesting.”

“Staying for the family drama, huh?” He chuckled.

“We’re happy to have you for as long as you want, Jay. Truth be told, your mom has been crying about it for weeks. We’re both not ready to say goodbye too.”

“Tell you what, Chloe and Theo probably have some fancy lasagnas waiting for us back home; let's cut through the forest and head back early to celebrate.” He said, practically drooling.

“Lasagnas for breakfast?”

“Wait, You just want the Lasagnas. Don’t you?”

“Hahaha, Maybe.”

“Well, don’t get too drawn in, or you’ll end up as Hansel in the candy house.” 

He laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.

That would be funny to imagine though, cause Dad is anything but a glutton.

Chapter 1 ->

[xoxochb]

⋆·˚ ༘ * a light that never goes out

warnings: none pairing: luke castellan x daughter of apollo a/n: I’ve decided to stop writing in all lowercase because it’s becoming a bad habit and I need to break it

Luke Castellan was the center of your thoughts along with many other girls at camp (specifically aphrodite girls. You assumed because they were gorgeous and he was gorgeous so it was ‘a perfect match’). But you often wonder what made you so special. Out of all the pretty girls at camp Luke could have he chose to talk to you of all people. You were simply just a daughter of Apollo, nothing special- the best you could do was archery and that’s not entirely helpful for much

However- unbeknownst to you- Luke didn’t care if you were great at archery and sucked at everything else, it had to have been at the bottom of the list of things he cared about. All he knew was that you were on the very top of the list and you weren’t going to leave it

Your gaze lingers on the son of Hermes for quite too long to be classified as friends. But you were. Your longing lovestruck gaze a clear sign to absolutely everyone that you were in love with him. What were your chances though? You didn’t have many. You still woke up everyday with some hope that Luke Castellan would reciprocate your feelings

From across the pavilion your eyes meet the very boy taking up your thoughts. Your cheeks turn pink and you avery your gaze to your plate, pancakes and a few strawberries

“You are insanely obvious” Will Solace points out

you glare at him and return to your pancakes, taking a stab at a piece to eat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about”

Will scoffs. “You’ve been eyeing Luke since we sat down. Why don’t you just go sit with him? I’m sure he won’t mind”

“I have not been eyeing him, I was thinking and my gaze just happened to land on him” you defend

“Okay. Suit yourself” Will takes a strawberry from your plate and before you can stop him he bites it

You roll your eyes before looking back at Hermes table where you frown at the absence of the counselor. You consider asking Will if he had seen where he went but you knew it would end with a ‘you were looking at him’ talk and Will always wins those

Just as you were about to leave you feel a presence sit before you and to your surprise when you look up your eyes are met with dark ones- belonging to the boy in question

Luke grins and slides a mug towards you. “I saw you didn’t have your coffee yet. Milk and three sugars right?”

Oh gods he knows how you take your coffee! Could he be any more perfect?

you nod, mirroring his expression. “I tried to get some earlier but they were out so I was just going to go back later. I see they found more though”

“Yeah, they’re pretty quick with that” Luke says, playing into your thoughts. They didn’t find more coffee though, he kept an extra stash in his drawer for you incase the camp was ever to run out- he knew you loved your coffee

Will takes notice of the tension and leaves you two alone. Luke doesn’t let the silence last more than a minute,

“What’re you up to today?”

You take a sip of your coffee before responding, “Well I have archery practice after breakfast but after that nothing much. I’ll probably go back to my cabin to read for a while”

Luke nods to show full attention. “I don’t have much on my schedule either. Maybe I could stop by after practice and we can paint? I know you love painting”

“I’m not very good” you laugh softly

“Don’t be ridiculous. you’re great I’ve seen your work”

Your cheeks turn a darker shade of pink, almost red. You assume Luke takes notice of this because his smile grows wider

“I guess we could paint for a little while” you agree

“It���s a date?” Luke suggests

your eyes widen. How oblivious could you have been to not realize he was asking to hang out with you as a date?

“yes- yeah, it’s a date!”

Luke laughs at your flustered demeanor and stands up from his seat. “Great, I’ll see you after!”

You nod and watch as he walks away. You later skipped your way to archery practice while Luke had been rambling to Chris about how he asked you out- a wide smile adorning both your faces while doing so

[alotofpockets]

Our kids | Katie McCabe x Reader

Where a miscommunication leads to no one being able to watch your kids while you'll be at work and Katie is about to head to camp

A/n: thank you @totaly-obsessed for your help with this one!

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.5k

-----

You were enjoying a peaceful evening at home with your wife, Katie. Your kids were spending the night at your parents’ house, giving you a rare opportunity for some one-on- one time, which you desperately needed before Katie would leave for camp in two weeks.

Though you adored your kids and the little family you had built, the constant energy of four kids could be overwhelming. There were Evan and Avery, your children from before you met Katie, and Erin and Riley, the children you and Katie had together.

Raising Evan and Avery on your own with the help of your parents had been challenging, but you had mastered the life of a single mom and thoroughly enjoyed being a mom. When you met Katie, it felt like a new world opened up for you. She was the loving, caring, and supportive partner and parent you had always dreamed of starting a family with.

While the quietness of the evening was nice, it was to no surprise that the quietness got interrupted. Your phone rang loudly throughout the room, you picked up right away when you noticed that it was your mom. “Hi love, don't worry, the kids are alright.” Her instant reassurance was something you deeply appreciated.

“Hi mom, that's great to hear. Having fun with the kids?” Your mom tells you a little bit about their evening and that the four of them are currently watching a movie with your dad. “The reason for my call is because I wanted to check something. The kids were talking about going to Ireland for one of Katie’s games next month, and I wanted to check with you if that meant Katie would be going into camp soon.”

“Yeah, Katie is leaving for camp in two weeks.” You answer, not yet aware of the reason that needed a call. “Alright, I don’t want to assume anything, love, but your father and I will be out of town the same two weeks that Katie will be in camp. Maybe you have made other arrangements, I just wanted to check, cause usually we help you out with the kids when Katie is away.” 

You listen to your mom talk with widened eyes, had you not spoken with your parents about this trip? You could’ve sworn you had, but you had been so busy with work that you might just think you had done it already. “Eh mom, can I call you back?” The new information got you stressed instantly, and you wanted to figure it out and not make it your parent’s problem.

“What’s wrong?” Katie asks, curious what got you so shocked. “Babe, I forgot to ask my parents to help me with the kids when you’re in camp, and I totally forgot they are going to be out of town for the duration of it.” Before Katie could jump in, you continued. “I can make it work. I raised two kids on my own, I can handle four for a couple of weeks.”

That’s the moment Katie feels like she has to step in. “Darling, while I have no doubt that you could handle all four, you don’t have to. You’re not on your own anymore, we can figure something out together.” 

“Sorry, sometimes I forget I don’t have to do it all alone anymore.” Katie smiled and took your hands in hers. “It’s okay, I understand. But remember that just because I am away on camp, doesn’t mean those aren’t my kids anymore. You will always have me, and so will they.” 

Once you calmed down a little, Katie grabbed her phone. “I have an idea, let me make a call to see if it is an option. I will be right back, okay? No stressing in the meantime!” She pecks your cheek and moves into the kitchen to make the call.

“Alright, I called Eileen, and my idea is definitely an option. I can take the kids with me to camp, that way you won’t have to worry about finding someone to watch them when you’re at work. Russel is bringing her kiddo with her, so they already arranged for childcare, and they said it wouldn’t be a problem to add a couple more kids to that. What do you think?”

You let the plan settle in your mind for a moment, thinking of the logistics. “Okay that could work. So then Evan, Avery, and I will meet you, Erin, and Riley in Dublin the day we’d all come to Ireland?”

Katie looks at you with a face full of confusion. “What? No, I meant taking all of them. Did I say something that made it seem like I would only bring half the kids?” You thought for a moment. She hadn’t, but you had just assumed she’d only take the youngest two. “I don’t know, but are you sure about taking Evan and Avery as well?”

Your wife had dealt with a fair share of your trauma surrounding being left with your kids from your previous partner, so she had a feeling what was happening in your mind right now. “Darling, I am very sure. Evan and Avery are as much my kids as Erin and Riley are. When I talk about the kids, I always mean all four of them.” Katie looked your face over and knew exactly what her next move would be. 

“I mean they even look like me, no? Same smiles and everything!” Her words painted a smile on your face. “Ha, very funny.” Katie wiggles her eyebrows, “Must be if you’re laughing!” Your face turns back to serious. “I love you. Thank you for being the best mom to our kids, and the best partner to me.” Your wife leans in to kiss you. “You are the best mom though.”

You laid back into Katie’s arms on the couch as you called back your mom to tell them your plans, with the request that she wouldn’t tell the kids. You wanted to tell them yourselves.

“I’m really looking forward to this camp.” Katie said after you hung up the phone. “I can’t wait to take the kids along and show them more of the behind the scenes. I think they will love it.” You nod in agreement, “I think they will too. They always love visiting you at Arsenal, I think they will have a great time seeing you at Ireland camp.”

“Plus, it will also be nice to have some time to myself as well. You know I love our kids more than anything, but since I’ll be working ahead with work to be able to take a few days off to visit you, it will be nice to come home to a quiet house and recharge. Not having to worry about who will watch the kids, is already making me feel more relaxed.” Katie hugged you a little closer. “You deserve it, darling. We are a team, and we’ll always find a way to make things work together.”

As you had expected, the kids were having the time of their lives at camp. Katie sent you videos and pictures any chance she got, and every night before bed, you would video call with all of them. 

The days flew by, and before you knew it, you were on your way to Ireland yourself. You took a taxi from the airport to the training grounds, where Katie had the kids all together waiting for your arrival. 

“I see Mama!” Avery was the first to spot you and ran towards you, with Evan on her heels. They made it into your open arms at the same time. “Oh, I’ve missed you so much!” You hug them close. You hear more little feet rushing your way and look up with a big smile on your face. “More kids that I’ve missed so dearly! Come here you two.” You lift both of them up in the air, while the oldest two cling to your legs.

“Welcome to Ireland, baby!” Katie moves closer to you, “You’ve been missed as well.” She leans in for a kiss between the bundle of kids surrounding you. “It’s great to be here. The quietness was nice the first two days, but the rest of the time I missed all the crazy.” 

“Mama, we're not crazy!” Erin chimes in. “Hmm I don’t know about that little miss.” You start tickling her side and she starts squealing, “Sounds pretty crazy to me, don’t you think babe?” Katie watched the interaction with a fond smile, “The perfect amount of crazy.”

The next few days you got to spend as a family all together. You had intended to only stay for the home game, but since it was so quiet at home you had worked ahead more and asked your boss for some extra time off. Meaning you were able to travel with everyone to the away game as well. 

All in all, it worked out perfectly. And Katie once again proved to you that the two of you were a team and would always work together to figure everything out. You weren’t alone raising your kids, and you would never be again with Katie by your side.

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katie_mccabe11 just posted

katie_mccabe11: A special camp with the kids. Grateful to be able to bring them along and to be able to play in front of the incredible fans that showed up for us. Thank you for the support ☘️💚

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[s-che]

a game where we hurt each other

Last month, I played perhaps the most intense TTRPG session of my life as part of the Dream Library’s discussion of Bluebeard’s Bride, a game of “feminist horror” (more on this later) published by Magpie in a gorgeous print edition. Over the course of the month of October my guest lecturer/collaborator @marvelousmsmolly I collectively hosted three sessions of what was by far the most challenging game the Dream Library has ever discussed. 

We came to Bluebeard as the second part of our fall semester covering games of intimacy and monstrosity — a unit which began in September with Avery Alder’s Monsterhearts 2 and is continuing this month with Vampire: The Masquerade (If you want to get in on the VTM discussion and future semesters, please, come join). Both Molly and I suspected that Bluebeard was going to be both a quieter month and a riskier text — but opted to play through it anyway, albeit with some tools in place to make sure everyone knew what they were getting into with a book that doesn’t pull many punches. And with all that, the first two sessions went... fine? We had some lumpy pacing, some conflicting styles of play, some questions about how a game that really seems to encourage player bleed can possibly be played online, but for the most part things were fine. Not great, not bad — not worth the anxiety we’d had about them.

And “fine,” of course, doesn’t make for interesting conversations, so Molly and I took a step back. We talked about what was going wrong: a sense that neither of us quite felt comfortable hitting hard enough, even though we asked players ahead of time and at the start of sessions to tell us what was off the table. A frustration that player choice had trended towards the Bride as a detective/hero and not someone embodied in a world of horror. A confusion — once again — over what it means to “shiver with terror” in a discord call with some friends online. Out of that conversation came a new idea: rather than two more one-shots, Molly took some time to charge up a spirit bomb and put together some more formal prep, then recruited a group she felt could get together for a more curated experience. She wrote up her own excellent thoughts on what went down — along with a lot of session details — but you’ll have to join the Dream Library for that. 

The result of all that curation and preparation was that on October 23rd a group of four trans women — Molly, @jdragsky, our friend Mars, and I — sat down to play Bluebeard’s Bride knowing exactly what we were in for. We would be playing a transfem Bride, Bluebeard would be cis, and we would be hitting transfem-specific horror as hard as we possibly could. 

I’m going to quote from Molly’s reflection, where she wrote:

“Another really great aspect of running this game for this table is there was such a clear feeling that we all understood, wordlessly, what was going on... There are some moments in Allison Rumfitt’s gothic horror novel ‘Tell Me I’m Worthless’ where it felt like the author, a trans woman, was dropping phrases knowing exactly how her transfem audience would react... This had a twofold effect of both giving the players a chilling moment but also, a very brief but appropriate separation between fiction and player where could all grimace and be together in that discomfort before pushing on. People knew what I was doing. The problem with the original game is it doesn’t really want to discuss the politics of what “feminine horror” means. Because of this you’re really lacking some focus. I think a table of cis women could actually play bluebeard’s bride in the way we did last night and have it hit hard for them if they approached it correctly, I don’t think our experience was uniquely elevated by our trans reading, however that was one of several tools we used for that elevation.”

Setting aside the strengths and weaknesses of the original text, that sense of shared experience was key to our game and key to allowing us to hit — and get hit — really hard and trust that our coplayers were there with us. Compared to our earlier efforts (prioritizing safety by taking things off the table via lines/veils) tightening the topical scope from an ambiguous “feminist horror” to a specific transfeminist horror in the context of a chaser bf, in the context of an economic disparity, in the context of the medical pressures of transition in the contemporary U.K. allowed Molly, our lovely host, to hurt us knowing that we were all in it together and choosing to play this game. It transformed the horror from an obstacle in an adventure game into a thing we were seeking out: a pleasure/pain we asked to feel. 

In a games discourse that is — understandably — interested in protections which might be implemented anywhere, including at cons and home tables with much less of an art-and-politics interest, safety tools are often thought about as a negative thing, a preemptive cutting away of all the things which might end up hurting us. I think that’s part of why people can have a hard time filling out a lines/veils list in advance of a session. What are all the things in the world I’m sensitive to? What are all the contexts in which I’m sensitive to them? Good sensitive or bad sensitive? Sensitive enough to cause a scene? Sensitive enough to make it off the table? 

In place of that — and in a table with a really remarkable amount of trust — this final Bluebeard session leaned in, hard, to the things that hurt us. That was the game. Molly wrote a lot about kink in her reflection, and I think she was right to do that. The point of the game was to hurt each other and to feel, and it was a better game for keeping that in mind. It was an actual horror game, and not just a game with horror aesthetics. I agree with Molly that there was nothing essential about having an all-transfem table — I think what we did could be done by anyone, even with the base Bluebeard’s Bride. What was essential was having a table where we all trusted each other enough to play a hurting game and to know that we were there on purpose. It elevated Bluebeard’s Bride into a really fascinating, messy experience — one I can’t wait to play again.

[daisyjoners]

tag dump! nana’s version - pairings, parte um.

[nadvs]

out of bounds (part two)

pairing zach maclaren and soccerplayer! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary zach has never been the type to rebel, but when he meets you at a soccer camp where you’re both working as counselors, which has a strict policy against dating between staff, he’s tempted to break the rules for the first time.

» part one

» masterlist

Your footsteps fall in and out of rhythm with Zach’s as you walk over the soccer field.

Even under the inky night sky, you can easily make out the sharp white lines spray-painted on the pitch as he stands across from you, your back to the net.

As a center back, this is where you spend most of your time in a game, defending directly in front of the goal. You used to love the nerves you’d feel before a match, but by the final month of the school year, you’d start every game already waiting for it to end.

You hope you can fix that this summer. And Zach is the perfect person to practice against since his main objective in his position is scoring.

He picked up a soccer ball from a storage shed on the way over, tossing it in his hands. You wonder if he offers to help all the newbies work on their game or if it’s just you.

“I don’t know if you know this,” you say, “but the ball’s supposed to be on the ground.”

“Most people say thank you when someone does them a favor,” he jokes, dropping the ball and dribbling it between his feet.

“I think you need to actually do the favor first,” you reply.

Zach smirks. He’s always been the type to chase the feeling of fun, and right now, he enjoys how easy things are with you.

He kicks the ball to you, and you stop it under your foot.

“Don’t go easy on me,” you say. “I’m serious.”

Zach sighs with a smile.

“What?”

“Nothing, just… my sister says that to me all the time,” he says. The memory makes his chest pinch. This is the hardest part of being at camp for seven weeks. It’s only been one day and he misses his family already.

At least when he’s at college, he can visit whenever he wants, but at camp, it’s a no go.

“Does she play soccer, too?” you ask. The ball scruffs over the grass when you kick it back to him.

“No, Avery hates sports,” he says. “It’s when we play video games. She kicks my ass and she tells me to stop letting her win when I’m genuinely trying my hardest. It’s embarrassing.”

“How old is she?”

“Ten.”

You smile. It’s sweet that he spends time with his kid sister.

“And she beats you? That is embarrassing.”

He kicks the ball to you with a chuckle.

“So, she’s not interested in coming here?” you ask, considering Camp Summit is for kids in her age range.

“No chance,” he says. He asks about your family and you continue to chat about your home life while kicking the ball back and forth until you eventually decide to do what you came out here for.

“You ready?” he asks, heading backwards a few steps.

“Give me your worst.”

Zach jogs towards you, expertly kicking the ball with every stride, approaching you quickly. You keep your eyes trained on his movements and the ball, reading the opponent’s body like you always do.

You shift between your feet quickly, trying to gain possession. He side-steps and fakes right, but you notice it in the way he’s positioned, and you take the window of opportunity to steal the ball.

You succeed and rush past him, then turn to smile at him, locking the ball under your foot.

“Jeez,” Zach says, hands on his hips. “Nice one.”

“Stop,” you laugh, convinced he’s just trying to flatter you.

“How’d you catch my fake-out?”

“It’s all in your body language,” you say. You kick the ball to him.

“So, you’re looking at my body,” he says, his tone sarcastically suggestive.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you laugh, heading to where you were standing originally to reset.

“Too late.” He rushes back to the center of the field.

Your cheeks go warm. He wouldn’t risk dating at work. It’s against the rules. You could both lose your jobs.

But what’s the harm in flirting? He seems to like to do it with you just as much as you do it with him.

Zach jogs towards you again and you turn with him slightly, closing the distance once he comes close enough, mirroring him as he darts over the grass.

“It’s good that you don’t dive in right away,” he says between breaths. “I always get past defenders when they rush me.”

“Are you trying to distract me with flattery?” you ask.

“If it’s working, yeah,” he replies.

You laugh and continue to jockey, both of you moving with sharp, fast movements as he shuffles with the ball.

It’s a struggle, but eventually, he gets past you, sending the ball flying in the net.

“One-one,” he says. “You really made me work for it, though, huh?”

As you watch Zach run to grab the ball out of the net, you’re taken by how kind he is. Even after he gets a ball past you, he compliments you.

You refocus when he resets and jogs down the field towards you again. As the night goes on, you start to feel comfortable enough to make contact with each other, brushing arms and legs.

You stop keeping score, but it feels pretty equal by the time you’re huffing from all the exercise.

“You good to call it?” he asks, looking down at you as he pants after you steal the ball from him yet again.

“Yeah. I think that was more than ten minutes.”

His tongue swipes over his bottom lip as he smiles. He completely forgot he was out here with you, under a time limit, all because he was waiting for his friend to escort yours out of his cabin.

“I noticed something you do,” he says as you walk off the field together, taking turns kicking the ball far ahead of you. “You kind of give up when you think you won’t win the ball.”

“Why waste the energy?” you respond with a tired laugh. You check your phone to see that it’s almost 10:30.

“My coach always tells us that you have to believe that you’ll win every tackle,” Zach says. “It seems like you tell yourself you might as well stop trying.”

You consider his words. It’s true. It’s a bad habit you’ve picked up in the past year, a result of your dwindling confidence. And he’s a sharp player for catching that weakness.

Zach watches you, afraid he might have offended you.

“I hope I didn’t - that wasn’t out of line, was it?”

“No, no,” you say. “You’re totally right. Thanks. It’s helpful.”

You reach the dirt path, approaching the storage shed. He puts the ball away and joins you again as you make your way towards the staff cabins in the humid night.

“Gotta be honest,” he says, thinking back to what you said by the fire, “I’m surprised you’re not confident in your game.”

“My team doesn’t do that well,” you admit. It feels like you’re constantly ruminating over last season’s win/loss ratio.

“And what, that’s your fault?” he asks.

“I am usually the last one the other team crosses before scoring,” you say with a shrug.

“Actually, the goalie is.”

“No, she’s great,” you reply. “It’s not on her.”

Zach snorts.

“What?”

“You don’t blame her, but you blame yourself,” he says. “Makes sense.”

You nudge his firm shoulder. The contact is brief and playful and you’re comfortable doing it now considering you got so close on the field.

Zach nudges you back, touching you as if he always does. As if you didn’t just meet today.

“You mad I’m right?” he says.

“A little,” you reply with a small smile.

You reach your cabins. The shirt on his door is gone. It seems like your cabin-mates are back to their respective beds.

“Yeah, I’m still knocking very loudly just in case,” Zach says.

“Good call,” you laugh, heading towards your cabin. “Thanks again for the help.”

“Any time,” he says. You hope he means it.

Ami’s sitting up in her bed when you come through the door.

“Hey,” she says, “I’m surprised the bonfire went that long.”

“It didn’t,” you reply. “I was out practicing defense with Zach. Because his cabin was occupied.”

Ami grins. After she gives you a recap of her time with Malcolm, which she says went no further than heavy making out, she turns the attention back to you.

“How was practice?” she says. “If that’s what actually happened.”

“It is,” you laugh. “Great. He’s really good.”

“At what?” she asks suggestively.

“At soccer,” you laugh again. “We honestly just practiced. And even if he’s into me like that, he seems serious about the no dating rule. I wouldn’t risk it, either. I don’t know what you’re planning with Malcolm but apparently they’re actually strict about it, so be careful.”

“I will, but I’m not worried. We talked about how we’ll only be casual. And discreet. You be careful, too, okay?”

“Nothing to be careful about,” you say with a shrug.

“So, if Zach asked you out, you wouldn’t be down?”

Truthfully, you’re not sure you’d be able to resist dating him, even if it had to be in secret. Zach is impossible not to like.

“It’s not happening,” you simply reply.

Just like every other year, welcoming campers the next morning is havoc. Zach feels a sense of pride when he sees a familiar face, another kid who loved this place so much that they wanted to come back.

After the campers are directed to their cabins, orientation is held at the dining hall, followed by breakfast.

Voices bounce loudly around the hall as kids dig into their food, every counselor sitting at the head of the table with their cohorts.

He makes conversation, asking his boys questions to encourage them to talk with each other. His eyes flit up to you every so often, hoping he doesn’t get caught staring.

You’re sitting a few tables away, smiling as you chat. He almost can’t believe how much fun he had with you on the pitch under the stars last night.

Things are just so simple with you. He doesn’t have to think about what to say, because he knows you’ll play along or just laugh at his dorky joke. He likes you. A lot.

The rest of the day is dedicated to games across the campground, with training scheduled to start tomorrow. At one point, you ask over the walkie-talkies if anyone knows where extra flags for a game are kept.

Zach replies to check the top shelf of one of the storage sheds. You thank him and even though all he does is say You got it, newbie over the radio, you think about the way he said it for much longer than you would if it were anyone else.

Lunch goes by quickly, followed by more games. Throughout the day, Zach has noticed that one of his new campers, Oliver, has kept to himself. He tried to talk with him every so often, but he just got one-word answers.

So, when Oliver approaches him before Zach blows his whistle to signal the start of the last game of the day, he’s hopeful that he’ll ask about the game and finally show some interest in camp.

“I don’t want to do this game,” the little boy says. “I’m tired.”

It’s disappointing, but Zach doesn’t want to push him. Some kids just need time.

“That’s okay,” Zach says. “You can go sit in the shade. No pressure.”

Half an hour later, everyone goes to the dining hall for dinner.

While he eats, Zach is already exhausted and regrets volunteering to do one of the overnight shifts the first day. Every night, four counselors are scheduled to sleep in one of the four camper cabins, so that campers aren’t ever left without supervision.

It’s a guarantee of a bad sleep. Kids are always way too excited to do anything but talk to each other in their bunks on the first night, having to be reminded over and over that yes, even whispering counts as talking.

But Zach has always hated disappointing people, so he couldn’t risk letting down his aunt and uncle by not volunteering. He has the longest tenure of any other counselor here. He needs to set a good example.

After dinner, the kids are given free time before lights out, free to either hang out in their cabins or by the campfire. This gives some of the staff a moment to congregate by the dock, offering the perfect spot to keep an eye on campers without being heard by them.

It’s just past dusk as you stand by the boarded walkway leading into the shallow waters, looking out to your cohort of campers around the fire. You hear Zach ask about how the first day has been.

You look over to see him chatting with a couple of other counselors, a big smile on his face. It’s a good reminder that he’s simply a friendly guy and might not even be into you like that.

But when his eyes land on you and his smile gets a little wider, your heart refuses to agree with your mind. He must feel something, too.

Zach shifts closer to you, crossing his arms. His biceps bulge under his t-shirt. You quickly tear your gaze off of his muscles and up to his blue eyes.

“You surviving?” he asks.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“Don’t know. Some people just don’t have what it takes.”

“You’re so much nicer to the other counselors,” you tease, looking down and shaking your head.

Zach feels himself blush, tense that you’re calling him out for brazenly flirting with you. But when your eyes flitter back to his, he can tell by your innocent smile that you don’t have any intention to embarrass him.

“It’s all an act,” he says. You laugh and cross your arms, mirroring him. “Your kids getting along?”

“I think so,” you say. “They already have their little cliques.”

“Yeah, that happens,” Zach says. He looks out to the campfire and you catch his smile slowly fade, his strong jaw tensing.

“How about yours?” you ask.

“Got one who seems like he really doesn’t want to be here at all,” he admits.

You follow his eye-line to the boy sitting on the steps of a camper cabin, staring down at the book in his hands as he reads under the porch light.

“Usually with those kids, it just takes a few hours and they settle in,” he says, “but I don’t know. I’ll give it another try.”

Sure enough, when Zach crosses the distance and asks Oliver what he’s reading, he answers with the title, then ducks his head to quickly back to reading.

You notice from far away, confident that if you were close enough, you would see disappointment on Zach’s face.

The next morning, Zach is even more tired than he expected. The overnight shift was full of interruptions. He’s sure he’ll sleep like a rock tonight.

As everyone sits in the dining hall for breakfast, you dig into your food, listening to your campers talk to each other.

Then, your eyes drift over to Zach. You realize he was already looking at you. It makes your stomach go numb. He quickly glances away.

You notice that the same kid he talked about last night is sitting at the end of the table, alone, picking at his food. Considering how helpful Zach has been, and simply because you like him, you decide to see what you can do.

Near the end of breakfast, campers begin to clear off and put away their plates, and you walk over and crouch at the end of Zach’s table.

The boy looks up at you with an unreadable expression. You introduce yourself, pointing to your name-tag, asking him his name.

“Oliver,” he says, looking back down. You notice he hardly ate anything.

“How are you liking camp?” you ask quietly. Your eyes dart up to look at Zach at the other end of the table. His lips quirk into a hint of a smile.

“I’m not,” he answers.

“Is there anything that would make you feel better?” you offer.

“Leaving,” he says. You stifle your frown.

“Besides that,” you reply. “And you can be totally honest.”

“The food here sucks,” he mumbles. You look down at the uneaten pancake he’s pushing around with his fork.

“What if we got better pancakes?” you ask.

“I don’t want pancakes,” he replies. “I want waffles.”

“Waffles,” you say with a smile, glad you at least got an answer. You stand. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Oliver looks up at you with surprised eyes. Something tells you that he isn’t used to being asked what he wants and actually getting it.

You head back to your table to rally your girls, but you find Zach before counselors start leading their groups outside.

“You said you had connections, right?”

Zach turns to see you standing behind him, trying to ignore the fact that his stomach flips when he makes eye contact with you.

“Yeah,” he says. Campers rush around you as you stand by the front door of the dining hall.

“If you can sneak in some waffles, I think Oliver might like it a little better here,” you say.

“He told you that?” he asks.

“No, I’m a mindreader,” you tease. “Yes, he told me that.”

Zach smirks as you turn away to rush back to your group. He can’t stop smiling even after you’re gone.

It’s a long, hot day. You were disappointed when you saw the schedule this morning, because while you like all the vets, you had hoped Zach would be one of the counselors you’d be paired with for drills today. Maybe tomorrow.

All afternoon, your walkie kept crackling and losing signal. You mention it to one of the directors, Ruby, when you see her by the main office and she promises to get you a new one soon.

After the campers go to bed, you head back to your cabin, expecting to see Ami. But her bed is empty. You double-check the schedule in the staff group chat to confirm she isn’t one of the overnight shifts tonight.

You figure she’s hanging out somewhere else on the campground. You settle in for the evening with a shower, then get into your pajamas and decide to do some skincare and self-pampering.

Zach lets out a tired, heavy sigh when he sees Malcolm’s text. He exits the dining hall and steps into the thick night air, rereading the message from his cabin-mate.

Ami’s over. I’ll text when she’s gone.

He just came back from the closest grocery store specifically to buy as many boxes of frozen waffles as he could carry after he got the okay from his aunt. He used up all the freezer space he could find in the dining hall kitchen and now, he just wants to lie in his bed.

He’s not sure what to do. He’s never been that confrontational at work, preferring to keep the peace, but if this becomes a habit of Malcolm’s this summer, he’ll have to say something to him.

He heads towards his cabin, just in case his best friend texts in the meantime. He doesn’t.

Before he can turn around to go sit by the lake to kill time, he notices the light spilling out from behind the edges of the blinds on your cabin window.

Maybe you’d like to keep him company like you did the other night. Without much more thought, he knocks on your door.

When you open it, you’re in pajamas, your hair wet from the shower, pink gel strips under your eyes.

Zach smiles, thinking you look adorable and wishing he could say it out loud.

“Hey,” you say. You notice he’s still in his work clothes, even though lights out for campers was over an hour ago. “What’s up?”

“I was, um… I was gonna see if you wanted to hang out,” he says, holding up his phone. “I just got the text version of the shirt on the doorknob.”

You laugh and quickly clue in that Ami is with Malcolm next door.

“So, that’s where she is,” you say. “Come in. We can hang out here.”

When the door shuts behind Zach, you wonder if he also feels the weight of the privacy you two have now. This is different from being out on the pitch the day you met. There’s no chance of anyone seeing you behind your closed cabin door. It’s intimate. Almost risky.

“How was your day?” you ask, sitting on your bed as Zach settles on the chair tucked under your desk.

You’re trying to act casual and relaxed, but it’s hard to when you meet his eyes. He’s too cute not to get shy around.

“Well, I just went into town to buy like, ten boxes of Eggos,” he tells you. “That’s a first.”

“Did you really?”

“I thought it’d only be fair if I got enough for my whole group,” he explains. “Turns out we don’t have a waffle maker, but we do have toasters, so it was the best I could do.”

“Nice,” you say. “I’m glad the kitchen staff were cool with it.”

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “I’m actually sneaking in the kitchen tomorrow morning to make them. The cooks have more than enough work, so as long as I don’t get in their way, I think I’m good.”

You still for a second, endeared. You knew he’d make an effort to help Oliver feel welcome, but he’s going to all these lengths just to make a kid happy?

“Anyway, my point is, thanks for the intel,” he says, realizing he’s tiredly rambling. “I appreciate you talking to him.”

You bashfully glance away. He tries not to stare at you. It feels like trying not to stare at you is all he does when he’s around you.

He’s damn near enamored. He likes the smell of your shampoo, the way you look in your pajamas, how sweet your smile is. He hopes his nervousness isn’t obvious.

“No problem,” you say. “So, you haven’t been in your cabin at all since lights out?”

Zach shakes his head, his smile not quite meeting his eyes. He’s clearly tired and bothered by his cabin-mate kicking him out of his room. You wonder if he’ll say anything to Malcolm, but for his sake, you decide to keep the atmosphere light.

“I have a lot of these,” you offer, pointing to the under-eye strips on your face. “You wanna try? It’ll help you relax.”

“Is it that obvious that I need to relax?” he says.

You only smile in response and stand to pick up a stack of multi-colored packets of gel strips from the basket on your dresser and hold them out to him.

Zach’s eyes travel over the colorful array, sitting still as you stand over him. You’re not surprised that he’s actually going along with it.

Some guys would be tense, acting like skin-care is feminine, and therefore, embarrassing, but he’s relaxed and nothing but green flags, like usual.

“Lots of options here,” he says pensively.

“Are you always this indecisive?” you tease after a long moment of quiet.

Zach looks up and pretends to glare, but the dimples framing his stifled smirk give him away.

“You mad I’m right?” you echo his words from last night.

“A little,” he says, just like you did. You got him pegged. He’s always been bad at making choices, especially under pressure.

“I can pick for you.”

“Bossy,” he replies. “But, yeah. Pick. Please.”

You laugh and randomly choose a packet, opening the purple packaging for him and holding out the film. He takes it in his hand, looking at it with furrowed brows.

You decide to help him out. It’s what a friend would do.

“Here,” you say softly, pushing down your nerves. Warm eyes meet yours and you try to act composed. You peel off one of the strips, pressing it up just above his cheekbone. His skin is hot, his stare strong.

You step a little closer, focus etched onto your face, the corners of your lips slightly turned up. As you apply the other strip, your legs brush against his knees and he imagines how nice it’d feel to drag his hands up the backs of your thighs.

You’re so close and so pretty that it almost hurts not to touch you how he’d like to. You’re just as flirty with him and he’s sure you’d want his hands on you like that, but he’d ask before doing it. That is, if you weren’t coworkers.

You can’t help but giggle when you step back to look at him.

“What, is purple not my color?” Zach asks.

“No, it totally is,” you reply. “Keep them on until they feel dry.”

You settle in your bed again, your back pressed against the wall, legs stretched out.

“How was your day?” he says, having to clear his throat. “I never asked.”

“Yeah, you didn’t. Rude.” Zach smiles at your joke. “It was good. My first overnight shift is tomorrow. How was it last night? Did you actually get any sleep?”

“Not really,” he admits. “But the first night is always the roughest. You’ll be fine.”

He fails to stifle a yawn. You figure that after a bad sleep, a busy day, and running an errand in town, he must be exhausted. Once again, like it always does with Zach, your curiosity is too strong to ignore.

“Does this bother you?” you ask, vaguely motioning in the direction of his cabin.

Right now, Zach doesn’t mind Malcolm keeping him out because it means time with you. And while he’d normally say something like that openly, never having been one to shy away from sharing thoughts like these with a girl he likes, the stakes are so much higher right now.

Because dating is against the rules. Because you might reject him. Because he’s actually never been this nervous around a girl before.

“It’s okay,” he simply says. You wonder if he’s just not one to stand up to people.

“I can talk to Ami if it becomes a problem,” you tell him. “I won’t say you said anything, but let me know if you want me to mention it.”

Before he can reply, there’s a knock on your door. You answer it to see Ruby standing at your front step holding out a new walkie.

“Hey,” she says. “Sorry you had tech issues today. We can swap.”

“Oh, perfect,” you say. “It’s no problem. Thank you.”

Zach freezes when he sees his aunt. This looks like… well, it could simply look like two friends hanging out. But it might look like more.

As you take the new walkie and cross your small cabin to exchange it for your malfunctioning one, Ruby catches Zach’s gaze and offers him a genuine but confused smile.

He decides to try to act normal, even though he feels like he just got caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing.

“She’s not going to get in trouble for breaking it?” Zach jokes, pointing to you.

“I didn’t break it,” you reply with a laugh as you hand the old walkie to your boss. “I’m not in trouble, though, am I?”

“Nope,” Ruby says lightheartedly. Zach nervously chews the inside of his cheek. Her tone could mean that while you’re not in hot water, he is.

He watches you shut the door. It’s not like you got caught hooking up. But he wouldn’t even be able to explain what he’s doing here. It would mean snitching on his best friend for breaking one of the major rules staff need to follow.

A rule that it looks like he’s breaking. His stomach twists. He always hated disappointing authority figures, especially ones he so badly wants to impress.

When you settle on your bed again, you notice Zach peeling off the gel strips, his lips in a firm line.

“Everything okay?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he replies. “Thanks for these.”

“Sure. Doesn’t seem like they relaxed you, though.”

Zach tosses the patches in the wastebasket and stands. Your heart sinks when you realize he’s leaving.

“They did. I just wanna lie down,” he says with a soft chuckle, hoping he’s not being terse. “I’m beat.”

“You can rest here while you wait for-”

“No, it’s alright,” he interrupts, heading for the door. You realize his whole demeanor has shifted after Ruby popped by.

Zach looks over his shoulder to see your features drawn in confusion and sadness. He opens his mouth before the words come to him seconds later.

“Sorry,” he says. “It was fun hanging out with you.”

“You, too,” you reply, your smile erasing the hurt on your face. You want to tell him he’s welcome any time, but he leaves in a rush.

Maybe it’s wishful thinking or maybe he’s simply a nice person, but you’re sure you both feel the magnetism between you.

And he must be really freaked out at the thought of you doing something about it, based on how stiff he got after Ruby came by, possibly suspecting that things are more than friendly between you.

The more time you spend together, the thinner the ice you’re skating on gets. You don’t want to risk the fall and cost you both your jobs.

So, as you get up to brush your teeth, you promise yourself that no matter what, you’ll keep things strictly professional. For your sake and Zach’s.

(part three)

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