#when the little brown boy popped out I knew I was cooked

[stinkybrowndogs]

My post-election break down has resulted in 9 extra dogs…..

Everyone meet Meadow, a very sweet little mutt who I am fostering through my local shelter

Everyone meet Meadow’s puppies, 8 of the chunkiest little potatoes u have ever seen (in order; Thistle, Saffron, Tarragon, Parsley, Rhubarb, Dillweed, and Chamomile)

And everyone meet my favorite of the puppies …… Baby Brown Dog (Fennel)

Everyone is happy and filled with milk and mama is doing so good! We have a very exciting and fun 8-12 weeks ahead of us 🥰🐶🐾 once these little guys are old enough, they will be available for adoption through the shelter, as well as mama Meadow!

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 2

We interrupt your regularly schedule "Of Butterflies and Backstrokes" for another chapter of the nanny AU. I just need to cut down on the amount of backlog I have on this story and bolster OB&B while I work on the Halloween-esque metal band sequel "Around the World".

I am living for the responses to this fic. It makes my heart so happy!

In this we have a correct Robin, well... a mostly correct Robin and they all get to know each other a bit over dinner.

Part 1

~

Steve walked into his apartment feeling like he was walking on air. He never thought he would get his dream job, in his dream house, with his dream guy, who was gay. Like what did he do to warrant such a windfall?

The first thing he did was call Robin.

“Are you sure he isn’t some mass murderer?” Robin asked after he had explained the job. “Because that sounds too good to be true.”

“Well unless major rockstar and music producer, Eddie Munson is a mass murder,” he snarked back, “I high doubt I’m going to be murdered in my sleep.”

“You could be being catfished,” she warned. “He could only be pretending to be Eddie Munson just lure handsome young men to their deaths.”

Steve laughed. “Uh...no. The pictures online matched all the way to the cute dimpled smile he gets when he’s feeling super happy.”

“Ooh...” Robin teased. “Hot musician got it bad for the au pair boy.”

“No...” he whined. “He was looking at his daughters when he smiled like that. No dating the hot parents. That’s the number one rule. You know this.”

She burst out laughing, too. “For the married ones! But he’s single. It’s been a year since his very public break up with ex Ethan Giovanni. He’s trusting you with the two cutest girls ever. Like why not tap that?”

“Because I want to keep watching said little girls,” Steve huffed. “Plus he’s going on tour for three months in two days. Not going to happen.”

“Yeah,” Robin said. “For now.”

He told her about how they wanted to him to start that night and how this was the final test on whether or not he would be good fit.

“Knock ‘em dead, babe,” Robin said. “You’ve got this.”

~

Steve opted for a chicken lasagna with white sauce. He could sneak some vegetables in there and see if he could trick them into eating them.

He shredded the chicken and blended spinach and basil into the sauce. Added lots of shredded cheese as well as a well seasoned ricotta and popped in the oven.

While it was cooking he went up to the room that would be his if he got the job. It was large for some place where the help would be staying, but small in comparison to the girls room. Which they shared for now. Once they started school, Eddie said that they would be given their own rooms, but with them being so young it was good to keep them together.

Steve agreed.

He was close by, but he also had a baby monitor with camera that the app would be downloaded to his phone.

The house was well fitted with security measures that had only been tightened since the girls were born.

The room had that same Gothic, spooky feel, but wasn’t over the top with it. Instead of reds and blacks the room was dark browns and deep blues. Steve felt like he was floating on a ship on the high seas. He scratched his cheek thoughtfully.

He wondered if he could go a little harder on the nautical theme. There was an en suite bathroom that could also lean toward the nautical with its soft blues and teal color of the tiles and walls.

Eddie had given him a budget to decorate his rooms and now he was planning a shopping trip with Robin.

Steve knew he was getting ahead of himself, but he wanted the job so bad. Surely the universe wouldn’t be so cruel as to taunt him with it only to take it away.

He checked the timer on his phone and saw that it was almost time to check on the lasagna. He trotted back down the kitchen, again admiring the decor of the place. Everything felt antique but timeless at the same time.

He really did love it.

The kitchen was even stylishly antique in look and flavor, but all the appliances were state of the art. Only nothing was connected to the internet here. It was honestly freeing in that regard.

He hummed to himself as he pulled the dish out of the oven and set it on the stove top to let it firm up a bit before serving. He started to get down plates and cups for dinner. He quickly set the table for three adults and two children. Noting that one plate had a pink kangaroo and the other had a blue ballerina.

Steve correctly guessed which plate where as each girl came running up to the seats that they were sitting in for lunch and gasped in surprise that the right plate was in the right spot.

“Daddy, Daddy!” Joan cried. “He didn’t put my plate in Jannie’s spot!”

Eddie grinned down at his youngest. “So he did. Say thank you.” He turned to Janice, too. “You too, little miss.”

“Thank you, Stevie!” Joan and Janice said together.

Steve practically melted on the spot. He wanted to scoop them up and hold them forever. “I hope you’re all hungry, I made enough for an army.”

He set the dish on a couple of hotplates and everyone, yes even the girls, oohed and awed.

“This looks amazing, Steve,” Eddie said, positively salivating. “You didn’t have to go this far. Something simple would have been just fine.”

“Yeah, Steve,” Chrissy said, leaning forward to smell the lasagna. “I might have to haunt this place while Eddie’s gone if you’re going to cook like this, sweetie.”

Steve blushed as he dished out the lasagna, before serving himself a slice. He picked up his plate and silverware (which looked like actual antique silver, he was not looking foward to handwashing them later) to move to the kitchen.

Eddie looked up at him with his big puppy dog eyes. “Where are you going? You’re going to eat with us right?”

Steve looked around the table and no one said a word against it. “Oh. Um... I’ve never eaten with the whole family before. I eat with the kids when it’s just us, but usually when the parents are there, they want me to eat in the kitchen.”

“Sit.”

Steve set his stuff back on the table and next to Eddie. The only other open on the far end of the table. He dug into his lasagna.

“So you want to break down their evening routine for me?” Steve asked after his second or third bite.

“No business at the dinner table!” Joan cried, kicking her feet in protest.

“Yeaahhhh...” Janice chorused. “That’s the rule.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at Eddie. Who coughed into his fist and looked more than a little sheepish. There was definitely a story there and judging from the sly grin Chrissy was giving him, Eddie was no doubt the reason for said rule.

Eddie cleared his throat and set down his fork. “I’m, was a music producer for a very prominent metal label and before that I was the lead singer of ‘Corroded Coffin’. One of the few and I mean very few valid points my ex had was that I wouldn’t be present at the dinner table.” He twisted the rings on his fingers nervously.

“I would either be talking some band or another, messaging different people about the record I was working on or even just on the phone with former members of my band. So when I quit two years ago to try and save my marriage I still had people calling me and asking for my opinion, so the rule no business at the table was born.”

Steve smiled down at his plate. “No business at the dinner table then.” He paused and tilted his head to the side. “Would be asking you girls what you like business or just being friendly?”

Both girls looked at Eddie for guidance. “I leave it up to you, girls. I think it falls under being friendly.”

Joan cocked her head the side and instantly Steve was struck on how much like her dad she was. “I think it’s business,” she said with a pout. “Like in preschool.”

“I think it’s friendly,” Janice said, just to be contrary to her sister.

Chrissy and Eddie shared a knowing smirk and Steve realized this was a new thing and they might need those separate rooms sooner rather than later.

“How about we compromise,” Steve said gently. “I’ll tell you something about me, and if you want to you can share your favorite thing. Like if I said my favorite color was yellow, you could tell me what your favorite color is. But you don’t have to.”

“My favorite color is pink,” Janice said proudly. “Daddy says my room will be pink.”

Joan stuck her tongue out at her sister, because she knew she was had. “My favorite color is blue.”

“My favorite color is black,” Eddie said, joining in. “And red. Can’t forget red.”

Chrissy giggled. “Well, I guess if everyone else getting in on this, mine is green. I love that it’s the color of fresh cut grass, and spring, and how hot I look in it.”

Steve snorted as he was bringing his glass up to drink. Thankfully he wasn’t quite drinking when she said that. “Green’s a great color.”

Eddie and Chrissy shared another smirk.

“Ooh, I know why don’t we go around in circle,” Eddie suggested. “Like my favorite movie is ‘Lord of the Rings: Return of the King’.”

Steve smiled around his cup and then set it down. “I like that idea. My favorite movie is ‘The King’s Speech’. Colin Firth as King George VI and learning how to overcome his stutter? Amazing.”

Janice bounced up and down in her seat excitedly when she proudly cried, “Paddington Bear!”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yep, and now there always has to be marmalade in the house at all times.”

Steve chuckled. Poor Dad. “Have you seen the second one yet?” He knew there was a second one, but not when it came out.

Janice nodded fiercely. “Poor Paddington!”

“Barbie and 12 Dancing Princesses’!” Joan replied next. “There are so many pretty dresses in that one!”

“Ooh,” Steve cooed. “That’s a fun one. And there are so many Barbie movies to chose from, have you watched all of them yet?”

Joan nodded as Eddie shook his head sadly. “So, so, so many times. Same with both Paddington Bear movies. So have fun.” He flashed Steve a smile that was half between a grin and a grimace.

“Well I haven’t seen any of them yet,” Steve said with a wink a Janice. “You’ll have to show them to me tomorrow.”

“My current favorite is ‘The Quiet Place: Day One’,” Chrissy said. “Lupita Nyong’o is just too gorgeous for me to not watch every movie she’s in. I even watched Marvel movies for her and I’m a DC girlie all the way.”

They went around the table learning favorite books and other things about each other. Joan forced to participate so she wouldn’t be left out of the conversation. Then after they were all done. Steve cleaned up and put the leftovers into the fridge.

Then he watched as Eddie put his girls to bed. They got baths on Tuesdays and Saturdays unless they were super messy that day. They brushed their teeth to Daniel Tiger song and got into their pajamas.

Well...pajamas for Janice and a nightgown for Joan. Each one got a different story complete with all the different voices. He was assured he wouldn’t have to do the voices. That was only a Daddy thing.

Then the lights were turned off leaving the glow of the bumblebee nightlight to lighten the room and find its way into Steve’s heart.

~

Part 3

Tag List: CLOSED

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10- @kultiras @morallyundefined @ollieolive

[kteezy997]

Daddy's Boy-Part Nine//t.c.

You put on the pair of blue linen pajamas that Timmy had set out for you. It felt so sweet and cozy to be wearing his soft, oversized pjs that smelled like him. He said he wanted to show you something, but you had no idea what to expect.

He led you to another room in the apartment. He flipped up the light switch and stood to the side to watch your reaction.

You looked around the room, and it looked like a little boy's dream come true. The bedding on the bunk beds was Hot Wheels themed, and on the floor, there were a few different Hot Wheels tracks with multiple lanes and loops for the cars to race on. There was a small basketball hoop, several action figures, and various sizes of monster trucks and toy cars. There was also a closet and a dresser under the TV. It was absolutely perfect for Theo. It was more than perfect. You were speechless.

Your heart was so warm, you thought of all the time and effort Timmy had put into surprising your son with his new room. You heart ached and you felt like crying.

"Timmy, this is..." you shook your head in awe, "amazing. He's going to love it. He's gonna freak out!" You hugged him, nuzzling your face into his neck.

Timmy squeezed you, "I hope so. He told me he'd like a bunk bed and then the rest is just stuff that's similar to what he has at your place, and other toys that I thought he would like. I don't know if he will or not." he shrugged.

"Of course he will!" you assured him, cupping his face and kissing him on the cheek. "You know what he likes, and you have great taste. Plus, you're his Daddy, he's obsessed with you. He would have loved his room, no matter what is in it, because it's at your house. He's gonna love spending time here with you."

You walked around the room, taking notice of the small details, the personal touches that Timmy added. Atop the dresser was a Willy Wonka Funko Pop figure and a chocolate brown Wonka top hat with the gold letters on it. It was so cute, and you knew that Theo would adore the memorabilia, as he had been watching his father's Wonka movie nonstop these days.

At the end of the dresser was a framed photo of the three of you that you had taken when you went out for pizza one night. "Awe, I love that picture. He's going to be so happy that you put it in his room."

"Yeah, we make a good little family." Timmy agreed, coming up behind you, placing his hand on the small of your back. "Are we going to tell him about us?"

You turned, slipping into his embrace, you took a moment to truly ponder over your response. "We shouldn't move too fast. Let's just enjoy where we are, and where this takes us."

"This. Meaning?"

"Our relationship. I know that we have been together before and clearly those feelings are still there; but I don't want Theo to get excited over something that might not last. I don't want to get hurt, but I worry more for him."

Timmy nodded, pulling you closer, putting his hand in your hair, tucking it behind your ear, "I want you to know that I am serious about you, y/n. It wasn't just sex or a one-time thing for me. I've been thinking for a while that I want us to be together, with Theo, as a family. I lo-"

You cut him off, putting your fingers over his lips, "You don't have to say it. Let's just take it slow. We can spend more time together, as a couple and the three of us. Theo will be so happy. You make us happy, Timmy."

He smiled, "Well, I'm glad to have you both in my life now." He then kissed you tenderly, holding you against his body.

……..

He offered to make you an omelet for breakfast, which you happily accepted because you were starved. But as you sat at the kitchen island, watching him cook, wearing those damn sweatpants, you started thinking that you wanted something other than food.

You got up from your chair, and as you moved around the island, you could get a whiff of his scent on the pjs you wore. You leaned against Timmy, putting your arms around him and tucking your chin on his shoulder as he finished cooking.

You needed more of that smell, and you wanted him to notice you. You put your fingers on the collar of your shirt, bringing it to your nose and inhaling the sweet smell laced into the fabric.

He looked down at you with a quirky smile on his face. “What are you doing?”

"Smelling." you answered, innocently with a tiny smirk.

"Why?" he chuckled, briefly turning his attention to the omelet in the skillet.

"Because the shirt smells like you." you said, then kissed him on the lips.

"Hm." Timmy hummed onto your lips as he pressed his own onto them. "You're acting like you like me or something." he teased as your lips parted from him.

"Because I do. Want me to prove it?" you dared, running your hand along his chest, slowly.

He tilted his head a little bit as he turned to look at you, "You don't want breakfast?"

You looked ahead of you and turned the knob to switch the stove off. "Maybe later." you suggested. You let him turn, facing away from the oven. You sank down to you knees, placed one hand on his thigh, the other snaked into the vertical opening at his crotch. You pulled his cock through the hole, stroking his length.

Timmy met your gaze when you looked up at him, the look of desire and awe in his eyes made you wet, made you tremble with the need to please him.

You put your lips around the tip of his cock, letting him slide into the wetness of your mouth. You moaned softly around the girth of him. You let saliva seep from your mouth and down his length.

He combed his fingers through your hair, bunching it all up into a wad in his fist. "I'll take this over breakfast any day." he admitted with a soft chuckle.

You sucked and slurped along his cock, bobbing your head and running your tongue along his shaft: anything to make him moan or let out a little grunt. You happily gulped down the cum shot he gave you within just a few minutes.

Afterward, he picked you up, and placed you on the kitchen counter. "Now I get to return the favor." he cooed, nudging your nose with his, grinning.

He had nestled between your legs and started to kiss your neck, but you looked at the clock on the wall, seeing that it was nearly 11 a.m. "Timmy, we can do that later. We should get cleaned up and ready to pick up Theo from my parents." You placed your hands on his upper arms, softly rubbing them.

He sighed, "You're right." He leaned in, kissing you, saying, "Maybe we can take him to the park nearby, yeah?" he raised his brows at you.

“Sounds good to me.” you replied, pecking his lips. “It’s a prefect day for him to play outside for a bit.”

“Let’s get a shower.” Timmy said, and you could hear his excitement as he grabbed your hand, leading you to the bathroom.

……

You and Timmy went to your parents’ place together to pick up Theo. He didn’t know his father would be there, so you knew he would be thrilled to see him.

Theo tilted his head, frowning in confusion when he saw you both. But it only lasted a second and he ran to you. “Mommy!” he cheered as he jumped into your open arms.

You hugged your boy quickly then loosened your grip on him so he could look at his father. “Daddy! I missed you!” he said, leaping into Timmy’s arms.

Timmy caught him with grace, squeezing the boy snuggly and cupping the back of his head, saying, “Ugh, I missed you too.”

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @mel-vaz @thatoneweirdgirl17 @iwishchalamet @jindongdongie @elloise0 @rennyd26 @briefkittenearthquake @that-one-fangirl69 @sammy-halpert

[jimraisedmeup]

TICK // 17.1 - dancing in the dark

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (angst, language, graphic sexual content)

Word Count: 2400

☾

I get up in the evenin' And I ain't got nothin' to say I come home in the mornin' I go to bed feelin' the same way

☾

May 16, 1984 - junior year

"Toilet paper?"

"Check."

"Eggs?"

"Check."

"Red lipstick?"

"Check," Robin answered, then lifted an eyebrow at her sister. "Wait, what do we need the lipstick for?"

Eddie butted in between the two Buckley girls from the back seat of your father's work truck. "Perhaps if I wear lipstick I'll be less recognizable?"

You snorted, both hands on the wheel. "I don't think a disguise is necessary. Honestly, if you get caught, what else do you have to lose at this point?"

The brown eyed boy sat back in his seat, shoulders slumping in a mild sense of defeat. You still hadn't really talked to him since showing up on his doorstep with Robin. You were quite clearly on a mission and having fun with your sister, but Eddie knew you well enough that you were still far from happy with his fireworks show.

At this point, he just felt lucky that you wanted to include him in whatever plan you cooked up.

And Eddie thought Robin was quirky. Like if you took all the seriousness and cynicism away from you, added a dash of band geek, BAM! Robin Buckley. Eddie found her perpetual lack of coordination and rambling sentences to be entertaining. 

On the same note, though, he was intimidated by her scrutinizing gaze on him - they hadn't really spent time together yet, just simple greetings in passing at school when he was with you. 

Eddie still had yet to properly meet your father, upon your request.

I think that's something that can wait a while, yeah?

Hawkins was empty this late at night and all three of you buzzed with anxiety. "Borrowing" your dad's work truck was a good idea, but also a risky one. The construction company's name on the side of it was a little more recognizable that Eddie was comfortable with.

But it was better than taking Eddie's van. He was always noticed wherever he went.

"How do you guys know where Higgins lives, anyways?" he questioned, poking through a toolbox that was in the back seat with him.

You peered at him through the rearview mirror, your shining eyes glowing under the street lights.

"Robin knows a girl, who knows a guy, who knew a girl that dated his son."

"Well that's a goddamn soap opera if I've ever heard one," Eddie mumbled, then leaned forward towards Robin. "Cheers, criminals?"

Eddie popped the top off a beer bottle, startling the two girls in the front seat. You slammed on the brakes. Snapping your head to glare at him, Eddie held a look of innocence in his eyes, a beer in one hand and a random tool he used to open it in the other.

"Did you seriously bring a whole six pack with you? How did I not notice that?"

"You were too busy stealing all of my toilet paper. Look, there's two for each of us," he held out the open beer for one of you to take, fiddling with the lid of another one.

Robin took it from his hand immediately. You stared at her in shock. 

"Hey now, don't look at me like that. He lit a car on fire yesterday. We just stole our dad's work truck… to go vandalize our principal's home," she took a swig of the beer, wincing at the taste. "Might as well continue breaking laws as long as we're having fun, right?"

Sighing, you nodded at your younger sister. "Touché. But save mine for later, would you? Drinking and driving isn't on my list of crimes this evening."

Eddie and Robin tapped their beers together with a sharp clink, then proceeded to race each other to the bottoms of their bottles. 

The truck pulled onto Higgins' street. You parked in a dark area underneath a large oak tree. You turned to your accomplices with a grin.

"Are you ready, bitches?"

☾

I ain't nothin' but tired Man, I'm just tired and bored with myself Hey there, baby, I could use just a little help

☾

The trio looked upon your handiwork, sweet revenge coursing through your veins.

Toilet paper covered Higgins' trees, lawn, and lampposts. Eggs were artistically scattered over the brick front of the house - Eddie specifically recommended not to egg any windows so that you wouldn't draw attention from anyone inside with noise.

Robin stifled a giggle with her palm. "Guys… that was fun as hell."

"I concur," Eddie said, hands on his hips.

You couldn't help but smile at your two favorite people. "Ditto."

When you were almost back to the truck, you stopped suddenly. "Wait! I almost forgot." Then you bolted away. "Wait here!" you whispered at them frantically.

Eddie side-eyed Robin as they watched you run up to Higgins' mailbox.

"Uh, so Robin, you think she’s gonna hate me forever? For what happened yesterday?"

Clicking her tongue for a moment, Robin stared at her feet as she replied. "I don't think she's capable of hating you." 

The Munson boy next to her felt a pang in his heart at her response, and was unable to find his own.

Then she chuckled. "But good luck with the dirty looks she'll give you every time you light a match around her. She can be really scary sometimes."

"It's her eyes, right?" Eddie said with a laugh. "Aggressive."

Robin patted him on the back. "Just don't try to blow yourself up again anytime soon, and I'm sure you'll be just fine in her books. She loves you, you know?"

"Does she?"

"Isn't it kinda obvious?" Robin pointed at you, who was now jogging back to the pair. "She’s never been a rule breaker like this before. Not until she met your dumb ass."

Before Eddie had a chance to process Robin's words, you ran up to them.

"Guys, let's roll! I saw a light come on in Higgins' house," and then you ran past them, out of breath and cackling wildly.

As you drove past the principal's defaced home, Eddie snuck a glance at the once bright, white mailbox. 

In red lipstick, you had written "ASS of '84" in swirling, fantastic letters.

☾

You can't start a fire You can't start a fire without a spark This gun's for hire Even if we're just dancin' in the dark

☾

As you neared the center of town, you felt chills up your spine when Eddie's quiet voice sounded from behind you.

"Come stay with me tonight?"

You fidgeted in your seat. You would pick Eddie's soft bed over your own any other day. But now you were conflicted. 

"I have to take Robin home. And the truck. She can't drive it home alone," you explained, mumbling towards the back seat. 

You glanced at Robin, who was enjoying her second beer and looking out of the window at the passing businesses of downtown Hawkins.

But Eddie wasn't going to back down. "So? I'll come with you, then. Sneak me into your bedroom, I'll be your little secret."

"Do you want to die at the hands of Richard Buckley?"

"Darling, I'd die any day just to spend another night with you."

You had never allowed him to stay the night at your house before. You tried your best to avoid Eddie and your father crossing paths at all costs, usually only having Eddie in your room on days when your father was working late.

A bit of anger flashed in your mind, wondering why Kate was allowed to stay the night. You couldn't hold the anger for long, though. Over the last few months of awkward dinners, both you and Robin had begun to realize that Kate wasn't all that bad, even if she had a horrible taste in men.

And now, as you could feel your boyfriend's heated eyes on you from the back seat, a gut feeling told you that you weren't ready to say goodnight to him just yet.

"Fine, just this once."

"You know I can hear everything, right? You idiots are loud and the radio isn't even on," Robin gestured wildly with her hands. "I'd say 'get a room', but it sounds like you're about to do that. Gross."

Uncontrollable laughter bubbled up in your chest, adrenaline still pumping through your veins from the mischief you unleashed on the principal of Hawkins High School.

It must have been contagious, because Robin smirked at her sister.

"I'll help you sneak him in. Maybe one day you'll help me sneak in someone, too."

With a quick wink and the signature interlocking of your pinky fingers, you nodded knowingly at Robin as you pulled the truck into the driveway of your home.

☾

Stay on the streets of this town And they'll be carvin' you up alright They say you gotta stay hungry Hey baby, I'm just about starvin' tonight

☾

"Do you need me to wash your clothes or anything? For school tomorrow?"

You searched through your dresser drawers, finally finding a clean pair of oversized shorts that you had previously stolen from his room. You threw them at Eddie, who caught them with an uncomfortable look on his face.

"Sunshine… hate to break it to you, but I'm kinda done for the year. They suspended me for the last two weeks of school."

"Oh."

He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding the disappointment on your face. "I think I might just say 'fuck it', you know? Drop out, get a job with my uncle. Eulin is never going to pass me… or Ms. O'Donnell. Definitely not Higgins. What's the point in trying senior year again?"

Your eyes were sad. Though still sweet and deep as a pot of honey, your voice seemed smaller than usual.

"You should try again… for me. We could graduate together." You picked at your fingers, not meeting his eyes.

Eddie Munson didn't need any convincing. It was clear how much it meant to you. 

"Jesus, babe, no need to beg," he joked. "You already begged me enough just to stay here tonight."

The small smile that crept up on your lips made his entire night. Sure, he royally fucked up with the fireworks. But you were still here. You took him to get his childish revenge on Higgins. You wanted him to graduate with you. 

Maybe there was still hope for a fairytale ending, making it out of Hawkins with you by his side.

Never really ceasing to surprise him, you pulled off your jeans and sat on the edge of your neatly made bed, spreading your knees just a few inches.

"Enough talking, if that's okay?"

Eddie was already hard. But he purposely hesitated.

"Messing up a bed this pretty seems like quite the sin, you know."

Tilting your head back, you scoffed. "Says the boy with the stained mattress!"

"My uncle gave me that bed, I have no idea where those stains came from!"

"Sure." Then you bit your lip, looking behind him in the dim bedroom. "Lock the door already, will you?"

Again, he didn't need any convincing. He pushed the lock closed on your bedroom door, seeing it shine in the hazy light emanating from your closet. 

The brown eyed boy dropped to his knees in front of you, grasping your calves and pulling you to the edge of the bed.

He ran his hand over your belly, then hooked his fingers underneath the elastic of your underwear… he said a quick, sarcastic prayer for his devilish conscience, then pulled the underwear down. 

In the darkness, your hair hung around your sleepy face, making it difficult to read your expression. Eddie didn't mind it, though. He just wanted to feel you, love you, hear you… taste you.

Both of your hands ran across his neck, your nails slowly exploring his skin, then down to the collar of his shirt. He took the subtle hint and pulled it off, discarding it on the floor. The dark piece of fabric looked out of place in your immaculate pink bedroom.

Eddie could feel the warmth radiating off the skin of your stomach, your inner thighs. He grabbed your knee and then ran his hand upwards, stopping when he felt your hips.

He didn't even contemplate his actions for a single second - Eddie knew exactly what you wanted. Pressing one hand against your backside, he pulled your hips forcefully towards his mouth. Your flesh held remnants of what smelled like rose-scented soap and sweat.

His tongue traced the hot crevice between your thigh and the wetness already pooling between your legs. Immediately, your back arched, almost collapsing your body like a little fractured marionette.

He was the puppet master.

The tension in the air snapped. Like a buzzing telephone wire on a scorching summer day - Eddie felt a fire being lit in his groin, guiding him as if he was a man possessed.

Self-control being a thing in the past, Eddie grabbed hard onto your ass, and you leaned back as you held onto his head. He tasted you, fully, unabashedly, exploring you like you were an undiscovered wonder of the world. His tongue circled your most sensitive areas as you whimpered, knees trembling.

You squirmed further and further up the bed like a cat in heat. He yanked your hips back to the edge of the mattress. You grabbed one of your pillows and held it over your mouth.

His fingers traced an arc along the underside of your breasts, barely visible under the fabric that separated them. It took everything in him not to fully undress himself.

His cock was hard, straining against his jeans. But there wasn't anything that would stop him from making you come into his mouth.

Eddie didn't think he had ever tasted something so real, so human, in his entire life. The sweat, the salt, the unique taste of you. 

He controlled the speed at which you finished - dragging it out as long as he could. The more your body tensed up at his actions, the more satisfied he felt. Your legs curled around his head like a vice grip from heaven.

Afterwards, sitting back on the floor before you, his face was wet. His lips were swollen. 

He could see your figure splayed out on the bed. Shameless and spent.

☾

I'm dyin' for some action I'm sick of sittin' 'round here tryin' to write this book I need a love reaction Come on now, baby, gimme just one look

You can't start a fire Sittin' 'round cryin' over a broken heart This gun's for hire Even if we're just dancin' in the dark

☾

(song lyrics credit: "Dancing in the Dark" by Bruce Springsteen)

TAGLIST for this series if you would like to be notified when I post new chapters!

taglist: @siriuslysmoking@emesis-nemisis@ishouldclean@thegirlblogstuff@insert-geeky-things-here@melonmonstereater@well-be-okay-dear-valentine@mewchiili@maridevial @sp1dyb0y1008 @totallynani @the-historical-biscuit2468 @borhapgirlforlife19 @amandaauroraelli @daggerdear @nvrendfangirl @lausnotverybright @salvinaa @psychotickoda @hiimerinhime @heyyallitsnaomi @trixyvixx

[backtothefanfiction]

Big News | A What Benny Doesn’t Know Story

Summary: Frankie and Magpie have some big news to tell the boys

Warnings: fluff, angst, happily ever after vibes

A/N: been a while since I wrote anything for this crew but I thought it was time.

“OUCH BENNY! YOU SHOT ME!”

“No I didn’t!” The youngest Miller cried out defensively.

“No, I did. My bad!” Will held up a hand from the other side of the garden. “In my defence, I was aiming for Frankie.” Will continued to explain, his hands raised, paint ball gun hanging limply in his right hand.

There was another sharp sound of air and he paused in the middle of the lawn, sneering, as a ball of paint hit his back, a smattering of blue, smearing all over the back of his T-shirt.

“Yo, shitheads,” Frankie called over to the two Millers, “we told you it was fine to test them out as long as you didn’t get it near the food.” He said, wiping a small splatter of yellow paint off the side of his new grill.

You had invited everyone around for a cook out and chill as you had big news you wanted to share.

“Sorry!” Benny said, skipping over to join his brother, but not before popping off one more paint pellet at his brothers feet.

“Benny, man!” Will sighed.

“Eh, whatever.” Ben shrugged, but was quickly regretting it as Will fired his last pellet from short range at Benny’s left bum cheek. “OW!”

“See, it hurts doesn’t it.” You said, stepping away from Frankie at the grill, a plate of meat in your hand ready to be placed on the table, your opposite hand still rubbing tenderly at your arm where you’d been hit with the paintball.

“So what’s this big news?” Will asked as they took their seats.

“Don’t tell me, Santi is finally moving out of your place.” Benny ribbed, seeing the older man exit out into the garden through the sliding door to join them.

“Still sore you ain’t tapped that, eh Benny.” Santiago said with raised eyebrows to the youngest Miller, the only one of them out of the group who hadn’t fucked you.

“Ha, ha, ha.” Benny deadpanned, but it was clear after all these years he was a little salty.

“Hey, Ben, maybe that’s the big news.” His older brother ribbed him, “maybe after all these years Magpie’s finally taken pity on you and is gonna allow you a taste of what you’ve been missing out on.”

“Okay, okay.” Frankie said, quieting his friends at the table as he came to stand beside you, wrapping a comforting arm around your back. “That’s enough.”

A brief pause of silent anticipation gathered over the table as the other three men awaited the big news from their favourite couple. Frankie turned towards you, locking his deep brown eyes with yours, a gentle nod as if to check you were ready. Your palms were sweaty and you felt like your heart was in your mouth, but you gave him a small nod anyway, before turning your body back towards the table.

"I'm pregnant." you quickly blurted out. Benny practically choked on his beer he had been taking a sip of, his hand only just catching the spray in time for his brother to shift out of the firing line.

Once the look of disgust from having Benny's mouth beer sprayed over the side of his neck wore off, both Miller brothers were up out of their seat, blue eyes shining in the afternoon sun, smiles plastered on their faces as they came to embrace both you and Frankie in turn.

"Oh my gosh, that's amazing. I'm so happy for you both." The elder Miller brother said gracefully to you, whilst his brother began to side skip around the garden shouting, "I'M GONNA BE AN UNCLE! I'M GONNA BE AN UNCLE!" for the whole street to hear.

When you turned to look at Santi though, his face was a picture. His bottle of beer hung loosely from his fingers between his legs, his gaze glassy and distant. "Hey, Pope, you okay there?" you asked, taking the seat next to him.

"I-uh- yeah." he said, as if suddenly startled by your presence. "Yeah." he nodded taking a sip of his beer, as if it would help solidify the air of happiness and acceptance over your news. But you knew him. Had been sleeping with him, both with and without Frankie for around two years now. You placed your hand over his where he rested it on his thigh. He sighed and his facade faltered. "I knew you both were trying," he said, "I just didn't think it would happen this quickly."

"Neither did we." you confided. In truth, you and Frankie had only been trying for a few months. When you had gotten the test results back you had even made a joke about him having super soldier sperm. "You know, this doesn't have to change anything." you said to him. But his face softened. "We would happily build you your own little cabin in the back yard to live in." You said hopefully.

"No, it's fine… it's time." he said, as Frankie stepped over to join the two of you.

"You can still have her on birthday's and major holidays though if you want." Frankie joked.

"Hey, don't joke about that cabron, I may just take you up on that." Pope smiled, standing up and pulling Frankie in for a brotherly embrace. "I really am happy for you man." he said, patting him on the back.

"I know." Frankie said, shifting his hat on his head as he stepped back and Santi turned to wrap you in a softer, more tender embrace, of his own.

"I really am bally for you both." he said into the top of your head before he pressed a kiss to your crown.

You wrapped your arms tightly around him, holding his chest to you firmly, inhaling his scent deeply and humming to yourself, trying to savour every last moment like this with him. "Thank you, Pope."

"Don't mention it, baby." he replied before he reluctantly released you back to Frankie.

"Okay, can we eat now?!" Benny asked, bouncing around the table eyeing up the food.

"Yes!" the rest of you said in unison to him and he immediately grabbed his plate and began filling it.

You felt Frankie's familiar arm, snake comfortingly around your back. "You okay?" he said to you lowly, checking back in the other side of your bombshell announcement.

And as you looked back out to the table of food and your boys stood happily around you, your nerves completely settled and a glow filled your chest. You smiled to your man beside you, "yes… I think I am."

[take-a-cchonce]

Get Out of My Kitchen - Part 1/2

Dom!Louis x Sub!Harry

(T) (1.1k)

“Get out of my kitchen,”

Harry quickly stalked over, poking his finger into Louis’ ribs. “Lou, you’re- I’m trying to cook over here. Out of my kitchen. I mean it. Out. Take the whole bloody block of it if you must but don’t-” 

“Your kitchen, huh? Say that again,” Louis challenged, tilting his head to the side, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

OR

The one where Harry has had it with his husband interrupting him, but he isn't having any of his cheek.

Tags: Established relationship, canon, Louis overreacting, Dom!Louis X Sub!Harry (mildly at the end), tw swearing, tw sexual implications, harry’s bald ig?

“Could you please not?” Harry huffed out as Louis bumped against him for the third time in the last five minutes, leaning up to get a mug from the cupboard for the shorter man, handing it to him with a grimace. “ ‘S my last cuppa,” Louis said solemnly, widening his eyes at the younger man, well aware he would be back in a few minutes. 

“It was supposed to be the last cookie. And the last spoonful of dough. And-”

“Alright, alright, don’t get your panties all in a twist, lad,” Louis chuckled, shooting Harry a shit-eating grin as he purposely bumped into him on his way out, ducking out of the doorway with a yelp when Harry reached out with flour covered hands. “The game’s back on. And- there’s smoke coming from the oven,” He pointed out, sticking his head back in, laughing under his breath as Harry rushed over and brought out a large pan of slightly too-brown cake. 

“Oh that looks great, if a little burnt. Don’t mind if I do,” Louis chuckled, walking back in and riffling through the drawers for a fork. “I very much do mind, Lewis.” Harry narrowed his eyes at the older man, slapping his hand away when he reached for the cake, “It’s for dessert this evening. Now, go,” He said through gritted teeth, bodily pushing his husband out of the room, ignoring his pleas and protests.

Harry sighed as he laid the cake on the cooling rack, making a note to shave off the browned exterior. He loved having the rest of the boys over, loved cooking for them, and loved Louis even more, but his husband was a handful sometimes, he thought, chuckling internally. He cracked the window open, letting some of the smoke out as he got working on the petit fours, putting some strawberries in a bowl full of cold water as he whipped up some cream, humming a little tune to himself. 

Barely ten minutes had passed and Louis had already made two more trips into the kitchen, one to fill up his mug again and another to put a bag of popcorn into the microwave. He hadn’t exactly said anything to Harry, but Harry knew exactly what he was up to and made sure to squint at him in the most intimidating way he could (which wasn’t too intimidating, apparently, considering how the older man always burst into laughter at his expression).

He was grating up some parmesan onto the lasagna he had already layered with ricotta and mozzarella, thoughts lingering jokingly on how much easier his life would be, not if Louis could actually come and help (he was a hopeless romantic, but not that hopeful) but if he didn’t have to practically fend Louis off like- like he used to fend off Dusty when he would pile food into her dish. He giggled to himself at the absurd image of Louis as a cat that popped up in his mind, quickly glancing at the clock. They still had a while before the boys would come, and knowing them, they wouldn’t exactly be on the minute. 

Harry was wrapping up the parmesan and placing it in the fridge but he turned and saw Louis standing by the tray, shreds of cheese stuck to his fingers as he quickly hid them, looking like a child caught stealing cookies and for one moment Harry had the irrational urge to burst into laughter- but that quickly dissipated when Louis pinched some more cheese up, holding his gaze insolently as he put it in his mouth. 

“Get out of my kitchen,”

Harry quickly stalked over, poking his finger into Louis’ ribs. “Lou, you’re- I’m trying to cook over here. Out of my kitchen. I mean it. Out. Take the whole bloody block of it if you must but don’t-” 

“Your kitchen, huh? Say that again,” Louis challenged, tilting his head to the side, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Get. Out. Of. My-”

Harry stopped midway, words disappearing from his mind as Louis came up to him, locking both his wrists in a single fluid motion, gripping them tightly on either side as he locked him against his own body. The expression on Louis’ face could only be described as hungry, and Harry shivered slightly, the cold edge of the counter digging into his waist where his shirt had ridden up.

Louis tutted, dramatically raising an eyebrow, “You’re asking me to get out? In that tone? ‘S not a very nice thing to say. I’m just here trying to show how much I appreciate your cooking and you’re being… so rude,” Louis sighed deeply and despite his nonchalant tone, Harry almost felt the atmosphere in the room shift and it sent a bolt of arousal through him. 

Harry was in half a mind to be mouthy, break out of his grip and talk back to him, it wouldn’t have been an effort at all; but one look at Louis’ face, pupils already blown wide, swallowing the blue around them, jaw set as he pouted slightly had him reconsider, slipping easily into their roles. “I- I was just- wanted to cook well and yo-” 

“Y’know, we have about an hour.” Louis interrupted, the soft smile on his face completely at odds with his tone, leaning in until his lips were close enough to Harry’s ear for him to feel his warm breath, causing goosebumps to run down his side. “I don’t want excuses, love. You were using your mouth too much…” he tutted, lifting Harry’s chin with his finger to catch his gaze.

Harry had unknowingly trapped his bottom lip between his teeth and Louis gently pushed at it with his thumb, still intently staring at the younger man. “Would’ve liked to just bend you over right here, use that fucking spoon on you- show you what you get for talking back,” he whispered, tongue darting out to wet his lips and Harry’s gaze caught on them, feeling blood rush south, knees weak as he already regretted not thinking before he spoke, feeling a tingle of excitement despite the apprehension swirling in his gut.

“Eyes up here.” Louis said shortly, “Bedroom, now. You have exactly five minutes, y’know what to do,” He brushed his thumb across Harry’s lips, the unsaid ‘or else’ hanging heavy in the air, smirking as he walked out of the kitchen, leaving Harry struggling to catch his breath as he rushed off, all thoughts of cooking out the window.

Part 2 here

Or

Read on AO3

[thelaisydazy]

Mama's Boy - Chapter 2

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Petra "Mama" Mayfield

Previous Chapter ┊ Next Chapter

It had been three days and Ghost’s side was healing well.

Petra was sitting at the creaky old desk in the clinic, expertly replacing the batteries in her beeping hearing aids, the ringing in her ears drowning out the quieter sounds of the base: the hum of the fluorescent lights, the buzz of the too old AC unit, footsteps.

It was the last one that snuck up on her as the shape of a soldier practically appeared in front of her. She glanced up seeing Roach standing there, quietly looking down at her. He looked concerned at the tiny devices between her fingers. The sergeant gestured with his hands, motions Petra was familiar enough with having learned the unspoken language herself, though they sometimes had difficulties with the differences between the American and British variants.

“They just need batteries,” she answered him, popping the last plastic piece back into place before returning the hearing aids to their usual place, the incessant ringing quieting. “See? All better.”

She watched the quiet Roach smile at her. He was almost boyish compared to the rest of the team, being a few years younger than Petra herself. His face was round and his nose turned up a little at its tip. He had soft brown hair and eyes to match. Out of everyone on the team, he was probably the least affected by their lifestyle. He was easy going, a prankster. Though she suspected he took missions seriously and that he was good at what he did if he ended up with the 141. Best of the best she’d been told when she’d been recruited.

It was lunch time, Roach reminded her. Sweet boy. She gave him a nod.

“Yeah.. guess I should eat something huh?” Petra said, standing.

---

There was no mess hall on this base, it was too small to require one, so the team was left to their own devices for meals. There was a small kitchen in the common area though, nothing fancy but good enough for the handful of soldiers and Petra to make some quick meals, sometimes larger shared meals were cooked, but those were rare.

Petra settled on some leftover takeout she'd gotten a few days prior when she'd heard one of the guys was heading into town. She didn't bother heating it up though, just settled into an empty chair and dug in. It wasn't exactly good cold, but she was just hungry after skipping breakfast and needed to eat more than she needed something that tasted good.

Roach sat nearby, tucked into a microwavable cup of soup. The two ate peacefully for a few minutes, enjoying the quiet of the empty common room.

A light tap on the table turned Petra's head in Roach's direction, the thumb on his other hand lightly tapping his chin, the other fingers splayed and palm open. Mama.

“Yes Roach?” she said, swallowing a mouthful of cold rice. The soldier gestured some more, he was in a talkative mood today. The two continued on like that for a while making small talk between bites of food.

“Hey a few nights ago Price called me to take care of Ghost,” Petra said. “LT said he got hit with some shrapnel. What the hell happened?”

Roach blinked brown eyes at her, confusion in his gaze. His hands explained that, as far as he knew, there hadn't been any missions planned for the past week. Hell, he didn't even know when the next mission would be.

She shouldn't have been too surprised by his answer. It wasn't entirely unlikely that the captain and lieutenant had planned a mission without informing the rest of the team. Knowing Ghost, it wasn't out of the question that he'd gone on that mission solo. Which worried Petra knowing the condition she'd found him in. How had he managed to get back to base on his own in such a state?

A hand waved in front of her face, pulling her away from her thoughts. Roach was concerned, asking what happened. She shook her head.

“Nevermind Gary,” she said. “If you don't know, it's probably for a reason.”

---

The treadmill hummed under her feet as she worked her way from a jog to a run. It had been weeks since she last did any training, not that she usually needed it. Since arriving on base Petra hadn't seen any time on the field, staying mostly confined to the clinic.

The last time she'd stepped foot out on the field, Petra had been deployed with a small team of other soldiers as escort for some civilians. They were meant to take them from a small village that had been bombed to high hell to a refugee camp a few miles away, but not everyone had made it. Enemy soldiers had laid a trap on their route, and they walked right into it.

They hadn't even seen them coming. One moment they were walking alongside a small convoy of vehicles, the next gunfire rained down around them.

Petra had ducked behind one of the vehicles, pulling a young mother and her child down next to one of the stopped tires. She didn't even know if the woman could understand her as she shouted for her to stay low. The medic wasn't meant for combat, but she had still been trained. A medic that couldn't defend themselves or their patients was practically useless in a fight. She'd fired off several rounds that night, not sure if any of them had hit their marks. A pair of hands had gripped her shoulders, almost throwing her into the passenger seat of the truck she'd been ducked behind, the mother and child into the back. A sergeant climbed into the driver seat, speeding them off to safety.

Petra's heart thumped in her chest as her feet pounded harder against the treadmill track. Her lungs burned but she pushed through it, despite the crackling at the edges of her vision as the room tilted.

A pair of arms caught her, lifting her from the machine and placing gently to the gym floor.

“Mama,” a voice said, swimming somewhere in the air around her. Petra shook her head. “Petra!”

She looked up from where she was now seated on the floor, spotting the familiar balaclava wearing man staring down at her. He sighed as he could see her gaze focus on him.

“Where's your bloody head?” Ghost questioned, his gravelly voice harsh. He was bent over with his hands on his knees to look at her, his eyes narrowed at her. “You nearly fell off the damn thing.”

Oh.

“Sorry,” Petra mumbled, feeling a wave of embarrassment come over her. “Got a little lost in my head. Wasn't paying attention…”

Ghost stares at her expectantly. “Lost?” He asked.

“Yeah, it's fine,” she answered. “My mind wandered a little. Thanks for catching me.” She started to stand, aware that it was probably the only time he'd seen her out of uniform. Petra was wearing a black tank top and a pair of gray joggers, her hair pulled back into a curly poof of a ponytail with a pink scrunchie.

She then registered that Ghost had come to the gym only three days after she'd bandaged his side. She opened her mouth to scold him.

“You need to be more careful,” Ghost said gruffly, which gave Petra pause as she just stared up at him. “You're our only medic. We can't afford to have you laid up for a few days.”

Defensiveness curled inside Petra like a snake. “Oh? Coming from the same man that would have bled out if Price hadn’t sent me after you,” She shot back. “You’re going to get on my case for losing focus for half a second, but you can sneak off on a mission no one knows about and nearly get yourself blown up? I don’t think so, Ghost. Not a shot in hell.”

Ghost was quiet as he stood from his crouched position, his jaw clenched under his mask as his eyes bore into the medic. “If you can't handle a run, how did you make it this far as a combat medic?”

“Well if I saw any time off base, maybe you'd have some confidence in my ability on the field,” Petra frowned at him. “But since I arrived here two months ago, you guys have been on how many missions? And I've just been sat here in the clinic.”

Ghost didn’t say anything then, just turned to stalk off to another part of the gym. Petra hooked a finger into the back of one of her running shoes, pulling it off in a smooth motion and chucking it at the lieutenant’s back. He sidestepped just in time for the sneaker to miss him and hit Soap in the chest as the Scot came walking up.

“Aye ya wee hen!” Soap scoffed. “What’d I do?”

---

Petra left the gym shortly after explaining to Soap, perhaps a little too angrily, that she’d been aiming for Ghost who moved out of the way. By now she was heading back to her bunk, needing a shower to clear her head. She was still fuming over Ghost’s assumption that she couldn’t handle fieldwork. She’d handled herself well in the past, well enough that she’d been hand selected to join the 141. Sure, she didn’t have the same combat experience as the rest of the task force, but she was trained to fight when she had to and she had a cool enough head under pressure to treat even serious wounds while under fire.

She could still remember the day she’d met with Kate Laswell, an American Station Chief with the CIA, whom she assumed was a lot scarier than she turned out to be. Though she still had no intentions of finding out what it was like to be on the woman’s bad side.

“Petra Mayfield?” she asked, thumbing a file on her desk. “You go by Mama?”

Petra stood in front of Laswell’s desk, arms behind her back, standing as tall as she could manage with her height. At the time she’d had no idea what she was there for, she had been trying to get her discharge finalized when her CO handed her the summons for this meeting. “Yes ma’am.”

Laswell looked kind, seeming to understand the serious look on the young woman’s face. “I understand you’re looking to be discharged,” she said. “Guess I heard of you at just the right time then.” She paused and motioned to the chair across the desk from herself. “Sit. I just want to talk about a new opportunity for you.”

Petra sat stiffly. Her mind combed over everything she'd ever done in the military, searching for whatever may have earned her a meeting here.

“You’ve been enlisted for the last nine years, started training as a medic right out of basic?” Laswell asked. She had Petra’s file in front of her, no doubt having the answer there.

“Yes ma'am.”

“You were stationed in Ankara, got involved with a few skirmishes,” Laswell continued, looking through the file. “Refugee escort assisting Task Force Stalker. Not many medics jump into combat the way you did. Merrick said you worked well with his team, even if you threatened one of his sargeants.”

“In my defense ma’am, he snuck up on me in a firefight,” Petra said, doing her best to not sound defensive. “When he threw me into the truck I had to assume the worst.”

Kate nodded slowly. “That’s a good instinct to have.” She paused again, closing Petra’s file and folding her hands over the document. “Then there’s the Charleston Parade Bombing. You were there that day, weren’t you?”

Petra’s hands balled into tight fists in her lap at the mention of that bombing. “Yes ma’am,” she said through clenched teeth. “That was before I was even old enough to enlist, I don’t see how it’s relevant to my file.” It shouldn’t have been there. Laswell that dug into her past.

Kate put up a hand. “Relax, I just want to make sure everything I have here is accurate,” she said. “That was twelve years ago, you must’ve been young. You must have been scared.” She was met by silence. “You lost some hearing that day.”

“I lost a lot that day,” Petra said sharply. “What is this about? I was getting my paperwork pushed through to be discharged and head home.”

“You’re direct, that will serve you well,” Laswell said. “There’s a task force across the pond in need of a permanent medic. With your experience with Stalker, along with everything else I’ve read about you, you make an excellent candidate.” Kate leaned back in her chair, staring at Petra, who looked like a deer in the headlights. “It’s need to know. I can’t discuss anything further until I know whether or not you’re in. So, what will it be?”

This wasn’t real. Petra had everything in Ankara packed up and ready to go home after nine long years, and now she was sitting here discussing going right back into the fray with some unknown task force that she knew nothing about. But Kate Laswell was known for scouting the best of the best, Petra didn’t know if she fit that description. But, if she was here now, there was a reason.

“You expect me to just agree to join a team without knowing anything?” Petra asked. “I follow orders, but going in blind like that? That’s asking too much.”

“That’s a no then?” Kate asked, raising her brows.

“I won’t put up with any push back with my.. Impairment,” Petra said, shifting in the chair. “I’ve worked too hard to push past it. If I’m going to show up there and be treated as anything less than capable, then I’m out.” She leaned forward, determination glowing in her eyes. “Now, I want to hear about my new placement.”

Laswell chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re just as headstrong as I heard you were.” She reached into a drawer in her desk and pulled out another file. “You’ll be stationed at a private base near Manchester. I won’t be able to give you an exact location just yet. You’ll be working with Task Force 141, under Captain John Price.” She reached over the desk and handed Petra the file containing just enough information to tell Petra what she was getting into while maintaining the confidentiality of the operation.

The medic pressed her lips together taking in everything. It was a small team at least, five soldiers in total. Although most days were bound to be slower than she was used to, she imagined any injuries she would be treating would be more serious overall. What was she doing? She had been so close to going home, and now she was agreeing to take on something new. “When do I leave?”

Kate Laswell smiled. “I could have you on the next flight if you're ready,” she said. “I’ll have your belongings from Ankara sent over as well.”

[theemporium]

[1.3k] late night dinners, home-cooked meals and wayne munson realising his nephew’s girlfriend makes the trailer feel like home.

.

Wayne Munson was not a good chef. 

He could read the instructions on the back of the package. He could whip up basic meals that didn’t require more than three ingredients. He had the number of his favourite local takeaway memorised. 

He never really cared about nutritious meals and all that five-a-day crap, not until he had his young nephew thrown at the doorstep of his trailer with no parents and big brown eyes that could melt anybody’s heart. 

So yeah, it was fine that Wayne Munson was not a chef when it was just himself he needed to worry about. But when little Eddie Munson came into his life, he knew he needed to make more of an effort. 

The microwave meals and the takeaways never really disappeared though. Wayne worked night shifts and it was easy to just leave money on the counter for Eddie to grab what he wanted. And when he came in in the mornings, he was too tired to make anything more convoluted than cereal. 

Wayne knew it was bad, and he knew he wasn’t exactly teaching Eddie any good habits, but there wasn’t much else you could do. 

He just had to deal with the hand he had been given. 

Then the Munson boys met you.

“You don’t get it, Wayne, she’s…” Eddie had trailed off one day, oddly bouncy and on some sort of high he knew wasn’t from anything in that metal lunchbox. He had sprawled himself on the couch, eyes shining with an emotion Wayne had never seen as he continued to ramble to his uncle about his day at school (something he had never done in his life). “She’s fuckin’ perfect, I’m telling you.” 

And as bad as it sounded, Wayne didn’t really expect much to come out of it. Hawkins, Indiana was full of narrow-minded people who didn’t understand his nephew, who were superficial and couldn’t look past the wild curls and theatric persona. He knew how locals viewed Eddie and as much as he hated it, he knew that there was very little he could do to change their minds. People were just bastards like that. 

But much to Wayne’s own surprise, he had walked in back from work early one morning, dragging himself through the door with plans to just make it to his bed before he gave into the exhaustion—only to find you in their small kitchen, clad in one of Eddie’s shirts with a sheepish smile on your face. 

“‘m sorry,” you murmured, cheeks heating up in embarrassment as you looked around at the kitchen counters. They weren’t messy by any means. Hell, they probably looked cleaner than when he left. “I made pancakes…if you want some.” 

The Munsons became quite smitten for you pretty fast. 

Wayne thought it would be weird having another young adult in his space. The trailer wasn’t fooling anyone and he knew it already felt cramped some days with him and Eddie, he didn’t know what it would be like adding you the mix considering you spent a generous amount of time at the trailer (not that he minded). 

But the truth was Wayne couldn’t bring himself to even care if the small couch was a bit of a squeeze for the three of you on movie night because you made his nephew happy in this deadbeat town and that was truly all he could ask for. 

And maybe Wayne hadn’t realised what a family unit you three had become until he pushed through the door after a long shift at the construction site, shaking off the snow and the cold, only to be met with the mouth-watering smell of home cooking. 

He was somewhat convinced that he was hallucinating the smell until he popped his head around, knocking the trailer door closed with his foot and the sounds of one of Eddie’s tapes playing through the trailer, mixed with some snickers and giggles. 

“Eds, leave it!” 

“I’m just taste-testing it!” 

“Are you questioning my culinary skills?”

“Never, baby.” 

Shrugging off his coat and leaving it abandoned on the back of the couch, he made his way towards the kitchen to really take in the sight in front of him. Pots and pans and dishes sprawled around the kitchen, vegetables being boiled and desserts being made and, fuck, he was pretty sure he could see a turkey in the oven. You and Eddie were pressed up against each other, with you hovering by the hobs and Eddie right behind you because god knows that boy couldn’t stand to be away from you for a second. 

“What’s going on here?” His gruff voice broke through the picturesque moment and he almost winced at the way both of your heads snapped around. 

But you just smiled brightly at him, not a care in the world as Metallica’s Ride The Lightning was filling the space instead of cheesy Christmas carols. “Christmas dinner!” 

Wayne never considered himself a Scrooge or anything, but usually there were just more pressing matters on his mind whenever the holiday season came around. But this—sitting with a plate full with a loving, homemade meal,  some trashy movie playing in the background as he sat with his nephew and his nephew’s girlfriend—maybe this was the closest Wayne ever got to feeling festive. 

“You, baby, are a fucking godsend,” Eddie grumbled with a mouth full of turkey and potatoes. “A magician in the kitchen, I swear.” 

“It’s just some turkey, Eddie,” you said with a roll of your eyes, though it didn’t stop the pink tint growing on your cheeks. “Nothing special.” 

“It’s the first time I’ve ever had turkey,” Eddie commented so casually, not seeming to notice the way you paused in your meal. “Now I get why the snobs over in the west side never shut up about this stuff.” 

“I’ll make you turkey whenever you want,” you said to him, voice a little thick but before Eddie could even question it, you were leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Careful, sweetheart, sounds like you’re signing yourself up to deal with this buffoon for a long time,” Wayne piped up, causing a snort to leave your lips and an exaggerated sound of offence to leave Eddie. 

Eddie puffed his chest out. “Oi, I happen to be quite the charmer.” 

You snickered. “You sure about that, big boy?” 

“I got you, didn’t I?” Eddie retorted as he threw an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side so he could press a loud, wet smack against your cheek. You let out a small shriek but you didn’t move away from his touch.

“Keep her around then, will you? Don’t think I can go back to that dodgy mac and cheese you make in the microwave after this,” Wayne joked, watching in amusement as your face brightened and his nephew’s face blushed in embarrassment. 

“It was one time, alright?” Eddie huffed in his own defence. “I didn’t even know you could get food poisoning from pasta and cheese.” 

You barked out a laugh, a sound so full of love and warmth. You placed your hand on Eddie’s cheek, grinning when the boy leaned into your touch. “It’s fine, baby, I’ll give you some lessons.” 

“God knows he needs them,” Wayne coughed under his breath. 

“Hey! You too, old man!” 

But your smile didn’t drop as you shrugged, your eyes meeting Wayne’s from across the table. “I’ll teach you both then, since you’re just as hopeless as each other.” 

Eddie tugged on the end of your sweater, your attention returning to him once again. “Think we can learn how to make those chocolate pudding things you put in the fridge first?” 

Wayne Munson was not a good chef, and maybe he never would be. But in his little family of three, he didn’t think it was the biggest deal.

.

[freesia-writes]

REBLOG CHAIN! For funsies!

Please, if you feel so inclined, reblog this and add a little blurb of what you would do if you had this weekend to spend with your favorite clone. Considering where you live, what you like to do, etc... Let's all just take a little mental vacation with our favorite boys?? <3

I'll go first! :D And it got a little long, LOL.

Eep -- it got a lil NSFW at the end, so minors be gone! <3

After all the duties of the week were finished on Friday night, Howzer and I had a wee bit of edibles, sinking into the couch into each other's arms and giggling about random things. We popped a batch of break-n-bake cookies into the oven, cooking them to the PERFECT softness in the center, and ate far too many because they were so warm, gooey, and incredible. We dragged ourselves up to bed, curling up with each other in bubbly-brained bliss, feeling heavy and content.

Saturday didn't really begin until noon, when we finally hauled ourselves out of bed and made some espresso drinks. We watched a recording of The Price is Right, calling out our guesses and teasing each other competitively. We threw together a cozy breakfast (around 1pm, haha) of sourdough French toast, eggs, and sausage links, and ate it on the garden patio. It was a warm, breezy day, and I was tempted to suggest going back to bed, but we opted to head to the bay instead.

We walked through downtown, aimlessly perusing the charming little shops that included everything from antiques to plants, books to confections. We pretended to critique the art in a gallery, putting on airs and snickering at our complete lack of refinement. Our stroll took us down to the pier, where we spent a leisurely hour watching the fishermen huddled over their rods and buckets, the salty scents of the sea ruffling our hair as it blew past. His hand in mine was warm and strong, and we paused at the end of the pier to lean over the rough wooden railing, gazing at the bridge in the distance and marveling at the unusually cloudy sky. It was filled with layers of every shade of grey and white, blending together seamlessly in a cozy canvas of calm. He leaned behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist as we took in the sights, whispering some inside joke in my ear that made me guffaw like an idiot, which made him grin even more.

The sun was sinking below the horizon, barely visible behind the thick layer of clouds, but the fading light of the sky and our growling stomachs clued us in to the late hour. We headed to an adorable blue and white building that was an old house turned into a restaurant, with all sorts of nooks and crannies stuffed with tables with expansive views of the bay. We opted for the balcony, pushing our chairs together on the same side of the table to snuggle into each other's sides, his arm around my shoulders. We decided to splurge, sharing our steak and salmon dinners with each other, enjoying a sparkling drink that complimented the food, and ordering two desserts because we couldn't decide on just one. When I gave him a bite of my flourless chocolate cake, he took the fork into his mouth with a slow suggestiveness, sliding his lips down the metal as he fixed his brown eyes on mine. My heart did a flip, and though I laughed on the outside, he knew he was kindling the flame within.

We rolled out of the restaurant, equipped with bags of leftovers and stuffed beyond belief. The train station across the street broadcasted the impending arrival of the last train of the night, headed out to the coast. With a glimmer in his eyes, he took my hand and ran for the ticket kiosk, and the next thing we knew, we were sitting in window seats in a plushly-upholstered train car, rocking gently down the tracks toward the ocean. The world faded to black outside, the passing cities indicated only by the twinkling lights of people gathered in their homes, stoking fires and tucking in for the night.

The small beach town at the end of the line had a variety of charming bed and breakfasts, but the one that advertised the "in-room fireplace" caught our eyes immediately. The entire wall that faced the sea was a sliding glass door that included a screen, and the combination of the sound of the waves crashing on the shore, the fresh breeze cooling the room, and the flickering gas fireplace made the little room impossibly cozy. We took showers, pulled on the impossibly soft robes in the closet, and flopped across the large bed.

We talked about everything and nothing, lazily caressing each other, hands exploring further, robes slipping off of shoulders and thighs. It was a languorous exploration of my other half, appreciating everything that made him who he was. A slight graze of the wrist across a breast, the shift of a thigh against his hips, sent tingles through each of us and slowly increased the intensity until we were both naked, slithering against each other in a tangle of arms and legs illuminated by the warm glow of the fireplace. Breathless sighs and little quips punctuated the sounds of the seashore. He pressed into me, my legs wrapped around his, my hands caressing the curve of his back and grasping his strong forearm next to my head.

It was truly "making love" in every sense of the phrase, the comfort and pleasure weaving us together in blissful contentment. When we collapsed in delirious release, cleaning ourselves up and matching every curve of our frames against each other in warm, satisfying spooning, it was only a matter of seconds before sleep greeted us with a warm welcome. Just kidding, we got too hot in less than five minutes and peeled apart from each other, sprawling across opposite sides of the bed and drifting off in real comfort. ;)

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

ARTISTS, FEEL FREE TO DRAW ANY OF THIS AS ALWAYS!! ;)

NPT: @wolffegirlsunite @littlefeatherr @dystopicjumpsuit @arctrooper69 @foreverdaydreaming1 @stunkbiggu @mxkyrie @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @littlemissbshine @atomickidsoul @dreamie411 @skellymom @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @followthepurrgil @the-hexfiles @1vlouds @sunshinesdaydream @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @ughhhhfoff @coraex @moonlightwarriorqueen @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @gt13tbbart @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @523rdrebel @ghostperson69 @rain-on-kamino @secondaryrealm @hellhound5925 @thew0nderer2342 @blueink-bluesoul @cloneloverrrrr @kashasenpai @lightwise @drafthorsemath @nahoney22 @kaminocasey @neyswxrld @amorfista @zaana @mythical-illustrator @angrypaperearthquake-tbbb-main @arctrooper69 @ghostperson69 @littlemissmanga @starqueensthings @nika6q @vimse @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @mandos-mind-trick @clonethirstingisreal

[shzmluvrs]

K so hi can u do a little Halloween one where yn an Freddy r at home watching scary movies bc Freddy can’t rly go trick or treating an after there done yn can’t sleep bc the movies scared her to much (or u could also do it with Freddy waking up bc he heard yn scream a little from like a nightmare or smt idk) an freddy stays up with her an they spend all night cuddling an talking about nerdy stuff idk if it’s to boring of an idea for u but it makes me squeal thinking about an I can’t write for Shit soooooo pls <3

Well, I can write for shit, so I'm gonna make your dreams come true, bestie😼✌🏽. Also, this is a cute plot, so I'm excited, and I hope you are, too, because you deserve to be happy and have some good cooked soup🤌🏽 (aka, good written fanfiction).

~ Star✨️

Wake Up (No Break Up)

Prompt: You love horror movies! Just... not at night. Or in the dark. Or by yourself. And no blood, guts, and/or screaming. And no slasher, paranormal, or psychological. And especially not on Halloween night.

Do...you even really like horror movies, or...?

Timeline: Post S!:FOTG

TW/Content: Mentions of gore/horror/stuff relating⚡️Freddy and reader (you) being extra reassuring🫶🏽⚡️Billy being a bitch and a half (not really, bro only pops up, like...twice)

Reader: Fem! She/Her/Hers Pronouns!

Requested By: Anon

Back to Master List

Freddy peered into his pillow case with a look of disdain smeared across his features, ignoring your buzzed rants and raves while you unlocked the front door to his home with his house key. It wasn't that he meant to, of course. Turning a deaf ear to the music that was your voice was never a controlled option, his annoyance all but getting the best of him and clouding his mind.

Again, not directed towards you.

He followed you into the house with a silence you found odd. It ceased your gossip, pocketing his keys into your own pillowcase of candy for quick safekeeping before giving the boy your full attention. He watched the blue lanyard connected to them follow, his brows knitting and a pout evident that finally pulled words of concern from your throat.

"What's wrong? Is everything okay?"

"How much candy did you get?" He asked almost too quickly, throwing you off for a moment before the words finally clicked in your head.

"Oh! Um, I dunno'..." You trailed, prying your makeshift bag back open to inspect. You gave it a little shake, smiling to yourself upon seeing some of your favorite treats mixed in with the neutrals and the disliked. Even a couple of loose trinkets, some adults known throughout the neighborhood to give out small toys along with or rather than candy.

"I got-"

"Not a lot." He cut, having already eyeballed the weight of your bag to resemble his own. You shrugged at this, hardly fazed by the realization while his brown eyes continued to find interest in his shoes.

"Did... you want some of mine?" You asked, unclear of the situation suddenly presenting itself.

"No."

His answer was short, curt. Very unlike the Freddy Freeman you knew, although you loved all sides of him regardless. Even this one, a side you knew to show the very most love to. Because when he got like this, it was usually because-

"We could've gone to more houses, y'know. You and I both could've spent more time out and gotten more candy an' stuff if I didn't-... if my leg wasn't... I dunno', it's stupid."

There it is.

"Freddy..." You spoke his name with a tone of sincerity, completely dropping your bag to the floor and coming closer to your dwelling boyfriend.

"It's not stupid." You reassured. "And, I mean... yeah, we could've. But we also would've been cold, and our feet would start hurting really bad, and we'd have to keep listening to Darla scream at literally everything. And also, we'd get so far away that the walk all the way back would be horrendous. Plus, our bags would've gotten so heavy that we'd be so over it. And-"

"Yeah, but that's basically Halloween tradition!" Freddy boasted. "You didn't even really trick-or-treat if all of those haven't happened. And we didn't, just because Rosa wanted to be sure that I didn't, 'Over exert myself', whatever that means."

The boy huffed, turning away even further. It was quiet, and yet you knew he still had more to say, paitently waiting until he did so.

"We couldn't even stay out long like any other person normally does, and I had to drag you with me back home just because of this stupid crutch, and sit here, and do nothing. With barely any candy."

"Freddy-"

"And I know we could just get some from the store and yeah, I know you're probably gonna just tell me that it's okay and you don't mind, but I do, y'know?" He ranted on with a fast pace, indicating he was now onto the bit where he was beginning to overthink.

"But is it really okay? I mean, if I were you, I definitely would've wanted to stay out longer, like...- Plus, don't you think it's kind of weird how they make the candy half-price after Halloween? Like, we're already getting it for free the night of. We'll, most of us, which is why it makes me think about all of the other kids who get little to none. Like, what about them? Don't they deserve free candy, too? And-!"

"-Freddy!"

"My love."

You couldn't help but giggle, both at his tangent and his sudden pet name, before pulling yourself together enough to give him the reassurance he both needed and deserved.

"It's okay." You placed two firm hands in each of his shoulders, looking into his brown eyes with intense sincerity. You repeated your words, ensuring that they went forced into his head in order to wipe away any forms of guilt, doubt, and insecurity.

"It's okay. You know I don't care about the candy. I care about you, and spending time with you no matter what we're doing is what I enjoy. Your leg... don't let it make you think of yourself so bitterly. It doesn't change who you are as a person, and it never will unless you let it."

Freddy inahled as though her were going to speak, his bottom lip hanging open in the slightest before engulfing you into a much needed hug. Squeezing your frame against his chest while he exhaled into the crook of your neck, opting for a soft and simple, "Thank you..." instead.

"It won't be all bad." You whispered against his temple, the boy eagerly perking up to hear your suggestions. You smiled when he did, the giddy expression on his face practically urging you to cup it in your hands (you did so without second thought).

"I'm here with you."

"My beautiful bodacious babe."

"Exactly." You giggled at his wording. "And I think we have enough candy regardless of how you wanted your pillow case filled up to the open seams."

"D'ya think I'd look better with dentures or silver teeth?"

"Harhar, you and your inevitable cavities are very funny."

He chuckled to himself in amusement.

"All I'm saying is, is that we can still have fun on our own."

With a genuine contemplation to your words and a wide glance around the downstairs area, he gave a decided nod before moving around the room, collecting as many pillows and blankets and other soft things into his arms as possible.

"You're right, actually. My room is never free, Billy is always in there. But since he's not right now, we can make the biggest fort to ever fort literally ever."

A snort left the back of your throat at his words, but a fort did sound nice. A little cozy area to spend your time together, eating away at your collected Halloween candy and other snacks. Maybe some music playing in the background or binge watching a TV show. Gossiping... sharing a few kisses... touches...

"That's the spirit." You encouraged, gathering some supplies yourself before following your boyfriend up the stairs.

And it wasn't long before talk of Freddy's dream fort had come to life, the whole room covered in blankets and oddly placed furniture to hold them up while the two of you carefully crawled inside.

"What're you doing?" You laughed unsurely, watching Freddy slap a random pillow as hard as he could before explaining himself.

"This bad boy can hold so many Freddy and (Y/N)'s."

You quirked a brow to keep yourself from chuckling even harder.

"Really, dude..."

"Well, I can't slap the top. It'll all crash down." Was his clarification. Not one suitable to your sarcasm, but one nonetheless. Plus, as usual, it was his quick wit that made you laugh adoringly, snuggling as close to him as possible in the dimmed darkness of the area.

"So, what now?" He asked, already sucking on a cherry flavored lollipop. "I challenge thee to spill your ideas of fun."

"Welll..." You trailed in a hard-to-miss, sultry tone, your finger running up and down his chest just the same.

"We're here together... all alone... in the dark..." You reiterated the obvious, pretending to think for a moment before letting out a long, theatrical sigh. "And you know, I've always loved your amazing kisses..."

You couldn't have been anymore patent if you tried, just barely ghosting your lips over his in hopes to taste the tiniest bit of cherry before his lips curled into a seemingly knowing grin.

"I think I know what you're gettin' at..." He teased back, leaving you eager and pleased to know Freddy had caught all of your perfectly dropped hints.

"Three words."

'We should makeout.'

"Horror movie marathon."

"...wha...?" Your brows knitted together instantly, his words not at all in tune with your (apparently wrong) predicted thoughts as you began to pout.

"I can't believe I didn't think about it before, I mean, it's literally Halloween. Oo...Halloween..."

He sat himself up and gingerly pulled his laptop closer, setting it on top of a pillow and queuing up some random website. Natrually, one where he'd pirate whatever movie and/or show that he wanted and was quick to find the entirety of the "Halloween" franchise.

"Or-or...!" He gushed further, already typing in another series into the search bar section. "If you're more of a paranormal chick, we could do "The Conjuring" universe. But then, like... there's also "Texas Chainsaw Massacre"- Nevermind, whatever, you should pick."

Upon promptly turning to face you, he was taken aback by your pushed out lip and inattentive gaze, (E/C) eyes focused on the blankets beneath you.

"Or maybe you're a "Get Out", "Antebellum", "Nope", type of girl..."

"Is none of them an option...?" He barely registered your downcast mumbles, bringing the laptop a tad bit closer so that he had a clear view of your face under the light before providing comforting (almost obnoxious) cooes.

"Why the pout~? Stop that. It's cute, but it's also-... staawwwp~...! What's the matter~...?"

You had trouble fabricating a proper answer. Regardless of the fact that some of your disappointment lied in the fact that Freddy hadn't caught onto your advances, admitting to him that you weren't the biggest fan of horror movies wasn't something you were too keen on doing either.

Sure, you enjoyed a zombie show or maybe some "Paranormal Activity" as much as the next person. But only during the day. You had sworn yourself off of anything scary during the nighttime because it was the obvious recipe for nightmares. And even then, you wouldn't be caught dead finishing "Signs" or literally anything found-footage troped without putting on cartoons immediately afterward in order to "flush out" the negative energy.

You were too jumpy for your own good, too swift to overthink and allow your brain to warp your surroundings. October 31st or not, horror movies four hours straight in the dead of night was a no-go.

"Why don't we just...watch "Ghostbusters" instead? The little tune is catchy!"

You even went as far as to sing it, making quiet little, "Do-dodo-do-do, do, doo!"'s to yourself with in-sync head bops to go with, Freddy giggling at your antics.

"You're so funny, (Y/N)-darling. See, this is why I married you." He hummed fondly, nonchalantly typing "The Nun" into the searchbar. It has seemed he had settled for "The Conjuring" universe, but for the moment, that wasn't your biggest focus.

"Married?" You questioned with a confused laugh of your own. "We're not married, you dork, what are you talking about?"

"We will be." He stated matter-of-factly, whipping his head around just to give you an intense and stoic stare that further tickled you.

"Ominous, but okay." You retorted happily, moving closer in hopes that he'd at least catch your signals for cuddles. Luckily, he did, wrapping one arm around your waist and the other across your shoulders as you swaddled yourself further into his embrace and a blanket. With your gazes fixated on the first movie, you knew it was time to accept your fate.

──────────── •⚡️• ────────────

It wasn't long before you had made it to "Annabelle". So far, you had found yourself doing pretty well, not at all paranoid like you thought you'd be. Like you normally were. You chalked this up to more than likely being because of Freddy's presence, his lazy hold putting you at ease with a sloppy kiss pressed to your cheek or temple every so often. Or his words distracting you entirely, the boy rambling on about some weird factoid he knew or how he swore up and down that, "That one girl in "Annabelle: Creation" looks way too much like Mary."

The only thing that had scared you so far was the sudden jolt Freddy did at an unexpected jumpscare onscreen, your head perking up in confusion only to meet the embarrassed chuckle coming from the back of Freddy's throat.

"Did that really get you?" You asked with a laugh of your own, quickly understanding the reason for both his sudden movement and the way he could barely hold eye contact with you.

"Stop it..." He hummed, already anticipating your light teases. With you poking and at his chest and sides, you simply just couldn't help it.

"You're my boyfriend, Freddy, you're supposed to be the one protecting me!"

"I-!"

"Do you need me to hold your hand so you're not scared anymore~?"

"(Y/NNNN)...!" He elongated the last syllable of your name as if to sigh, but still couldn't cease the giggles that left him at your baby talk. "That's not funny, you're not funny, stop it."

When you continued to stare with a suspicious brow arched high, he huffed.

"Yeah-Okay, well, you know what? Don't think I don't see you gripping onto that pillow like your life depends on it."

And just like that, you were poker-faced. You didn't think he'd notice, really only ever squeezing the pillow when you anticipated the next scare. But it had eventually grown into a constant hold. One so tight that your knuckles had lifted a shade until you finally released in order to deliver a playful slap to his chest.

"Well, unlike you, this pillow is being much more comforting."

With that, you completely turned yourself away from the boy, hugging the pillow closer than you had ever been Freddy. Natrually, he scoffed, slack-jawed at such a claim coming from you.

"You are so dramatic." He sassed, returning the same playful slap you had given earlier to your thigh. "C'mere."

When all he received was a doe-eyed stare, he was quick to pull you back over himself, making it so that you had no choice but to straddle him to be comfortable. And finally, that's when he caught the hint. You weren't dropping any on purpose this time (ironically enough), but your lowered eyelids and fingers gently twirling around the hair at the nape of his neck was where and when it finally clicked.

"C'mere..." He teased one last time, pulling your lips towards his by the chin. You melted into his touch, his kiss, with ease. Though your words may have had a joking cadence earlier, you completely meant it when you said Freddy's kisses were amazing. His lips always seemed to be so soft, the boy never minding it anymore when your chapstick or lip gloss would get all over them. He simply left it, the taste he'd lick at later reminding him of yours.

With the movie still playing in the background, the dark ambience provided the perfect mood lighting for things to continue. Growing more heated, his kisses left your lips and began to trail along your jaw, your eyes fluttering shut as you hummed in satisfaction the lower he went. He nipped at your earlobe, causing you to giggle lightly as he whispered even more yet unexpected gratitude.

"Thank you..."

"For what?" You questioned, your voice light and airy and your brain foggy, swept away with love. Or maybe lust. A palpable mixture of the two while he answered fondly.

"For staying up with me tonight. For staying with me at all, ever."

"Always." You murmured, petting his curls while he pushed his face into the crook of your neck. It wasn't long before he was dusting light kisses anywhere his lips could touch, your eyes opening up just a bit to peer at the computer screen. The movie was still going (no reason for it not to be), and you could sense another scare was abound. But alas, you remained distracted yet again, Freddy's ghost kisses slowly morphing into that of actual ones. Which quickly escalated to playful nips and licks.

"Stop it, you're gonna leave a mark." You whined, pouting near his ear as he chuckled.

"That's the goal."

But he never actually completed it. Or, he might've...

You weren't exactly sure, his mouth having been latched to that sweet spot on your neck for quite some time now. Surely, a hickey had long been already placed there, but it was once you actually took notice of the slow rise and fall of his breathing, you realized he had fallen asleep.

Mid-hickey.

"Are you shitting me..." You huffed, your bitter words barely even a question realizing that you were now on your own for the next few movies that continued to autoplay. You didn't have the heart to stop them, knowing you'd wake Freddy, and he'd pitch a fit of some sort.

"Hey, why'd you turn it off? That was a good movie, you can't just cut it off in the middle like that!"

"No, stop it, I was watching that...!"

"(Y/N), we didn't even get to finish it! Why didn't you just wake me up?"

Yeah, yeah, whatever. All excuses you had heard a thousand times before, the boy never one to admit he's a deep sleeper. Plus, it'd further push the notion that you were indeed scared. Well, you weren't before, but the longer your gaze remained fixated on the plot and sound, the more your anxiousness grew. Your simple thoughts and wonders transpiring into more paranoia.

"Ahem..." and other miscellaneous coughing noises left your throat. It was a purposeful attempt to "accidentally" wake Freddy up. It was in hopes that you really, truly wouldn't have to suffer through this alone, as dramatic as that seemed. But the plot of the movie was thickening, and the scares were growing more intense. Almost hard to watch, and yet, you couldn't look away. Even when you really wanted to, those moments stifled by Freddy's slumped figure against you, holding you in place. Hell, you had practically buried yourself in the fluff of his curls as much as you could.

But it wasn't enough, and neither were your half-assed attempts to wake him through noise. So, your next best option was to fight to ignore the movie entirely. Completely tearing your eyes away from the screen, you scanned your surroundings for your phone.

You were lucky to see that you had placed it within reach, carefully going for it and turning down the brightness just enough so that you wouldn't go blind...

─────────────────────

Billygoat💀

Yo when are u coming home😃?

Why is something up?

No just curious

Oh

Idk, we'll be home when we get there, ig

─────────────────────

You huffed, rolling your eyes at the lackluster response. Didn't this boy understand that this was a matter of particular emergency?

─────────────────────

Billygoat💀

Gee, Billy. Thx for the insightful and helpful info

I'll be sure to consider that when I'm looking at the clock😐

😐

Did you want something or are you just distracting me from getting more candy rn, cuz...

I'm tryna get more than Eugene and I can't be texting you at every house

Fine k bye

Seen

─────────────────────

Well, that was a bust. If a conversation couldn't be had, your best bet was to rely on other social media. Although Instagram has been pretty dry lately, so it wasn't long before you had gotten bored of your feed and clicked the home button.

TikTok was always a good choice, though! You couldn't count how many times you had sat and scrolled on that app for... much longer than one should. But you quickly found it wasn't as entertaining when you couldn't even turn the volume up to hear anything.

Pinterest had become your last hope, saving a few pictures to your organized boards every so often as you scrolled through the different sections. But even that grew boring, and again, wasn't much help to keep you from listening to the horror going on in the movie. You didn't want to click your phone off, letting the darkness consume you once more. But to sit there with it on while not even using it seemed silly, so with reluctance, you clicked the side button and let it drop back to your side.

As much as you forced yourself to remember that it was all fake... just actors in costume and makeup; just musicians and soundboard creating the melodic effects; just CGI and scripts being read off of a paper... it didn't stop the feeling of being watched slowly crawling up your spine. Your arms littered with goosebumps, and- !!

You forced yourself to calm, even if it didn't work all that well. It was just the house settling. A sound easily mistakable for someone inside going bump in the night. But it was just you two. Just you, Freddy, and an old house. That's all.

And still, your eyes couldn't help but wander around anyway. The fort, every single blanket, pillow, and whatever else in its place casting odd looking shadows that seemed to warp and grow the longer you looked. And the worst of it all, the small entrance, a blanket for a door lazily draped over the opening that wasn't quite closed off. You could peer right through the tiny space, which granted you access to see right outside the open door into pitch-black nothingness.

'It's just the hallway.' You reminded yourself. 'You've been here hundreds of times; you know exactly what it looks like, (Y/N). There's just pictures and shelves, and the rug, and the doors to everyone else's rooms... it's just the hallway.'

You wished nothing more for than to be able to close that little bit of the blanket. But your jitters stopped you, barely even wanting to move, not that you really could with Freddy still holding you against him like you were a stress ball or a stuffed animal. A stress animal.

!!! "Fuck..." You whispered, this time having jumped at both a scare from the movie and the coincidential timing of Freddy's crutch tipping over on its own. Reasonably, it just fell over. Like any other crutch, it wasn't made to stand on its own and at one point or another, was going to lose its balance and drop from its leaned position on the side of Freddy's bunk bed.

But you were jumpy, adrenaline feuled, and oversuspicious. You were not thinking reasonably.

"Freddy, what was that..?!" You whisper-shouted, rapidly tapping at his shoulder until he stirred. Not fully awake, a staggered and voice-cracked, "Hmgh?" leaving him before he was already beginning to let sleep take him again.

"Dude, Freddy..." You trailed, tapping him some more which swiftly turned into gentle shakes. "Please wake up, I don't wanna be awake by myself."

"Then go t'sleep." He mumbled without second thought, barely conscious, which you couldn't really blame him for. But still, the fact that he didn't budge made you guilty. Waking him up over something that was probably nothing wasn't really fair. Not to mention, he was right, in a way.

"Move." You commanded, sinking yourself further so that you could lay against him rather than sit. With all of the previously mentioned factors in mind, maybe sleep was just what you needed.

You couldn't be scared if you weren't even conscious.

──────────── •⚡️• ────────────

Your restlessness proved otherwise, twists and turns slowly shaking Freddy awake until he had enough. Gently holding you from being able to tossle about, his eyes gently peeled open just to squint harshly at the light of his still-running laptop. He couldn't gauge what movie was playing next, but a short and small whine pulled away his attention from the screen and onto you. He smiled softly to himself, grazing over every single feature he could make out on your face.

Your brows, which were kintted together in your sleep before dropping down to your eyelashes. He had to resist from curling over them with knuckle of his index finger, instead watching as your eyes seemed to move about under your closed lids. It made him wonder what you were seeing in your dreams, and why it caused you to pout your lips and wiggle about in what looked like distress.

"Hey..." Freddy hummed as softly as he could, brushing hair out of your face in hopes to coax you awake as gently as possible.

"(Y/N), wake up."

This continued for a couple of short minutes, him cooing your name and you seeming to both fight sleep and your dream at the same time. A battle you were loosing, which only caused you to huff and hum some more. It led the boy to believe that it couldn't have been a good dream you were having. A nightmare, even. And anyone with a working brain could only assume why.

"(Y/N), wake up. You're just having a nightmare, 'kay? I'm guessing sleeping with horror movies playing in the background has gotta be some sort of fucked up subliminal for your brain, huh?"

He was more or less talking to himself at this point, only growing fully serious when small tears managed to ease their way from your closed eyes and down your cheeks. Crying was the ultimate no-go for one Freddy Freeman, your tears damn near a trigger for him with the way he responded.

"Hey-hey-hey, no, don't cry. (Y/N), wake up, wake up..."

And with a couple more eager shakes, you jolted up, nearly hitting your head against the "roof" and taking the whole fort down with you before Freddy stopped you. Your breathing was shallow, shaky, as you struggled to take in your surroundings and collect any proper thoughts together.

"Oh my gosh..." You sighed, having hardly any remembrance of the actual nightmare. All you had left was the feeling it parted you with, your heart pounding out of your chest and jumping slightly once more when you felt a hand slip into your own.

"Are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?"

"Oh..." Was all you could say, squeezing at his hand while attempting to form proper words. "I-... It... I'm sorry, I was just scared. I didn't mean to wake you. Well, I mean, I did try to earlier, but before I fell asleep. But-"

"(N/N)," He sighed, using a nickname in further attempts to bring you comfort. "You don't have to apologize, it's okay. Why didn't you just tell me you wanted to watch something else?"

"'Cause I just wanted to spend time with you." You admitted with ease. "Make you happy, y'know?"

"Wh- No, I am happy. I'm super happy, I'm always happy when I'm with you. Like you said when we first got home, it doesn't really matter what we do."

"Just as long as we're together." You finished, nodding to yourself.

"Exactly. But, minus the sappy shit... you were actually scared...?"

You narrowed your eyes at his snort, Freddy continuing on as if you wouldn't slap him at any given moment.

"I knew it, I knew it! Nobody who's normal death grips a pillow for no reason, you little liar~!"

"You were scared, too!!" You shouted a little louder than intended, shoving him lightly. "You jumped like ten feet in the air when we were watching "The Nun"."

"That's not fair. You know the religious horror stuff always gets me!" He laughed wildly, nudging you back as he went on. "Did you know that when they were filming, some of the cast members actually experienced real freaky-deaky shit?"

"No, but I do know that the girl from that movie is Vera Farmiga's sister." You stated matter-of-factly, Freddy's eyes going wide before turning to the screen. One of "The Conjuruing" movies, neither of you knew which, was playing and there the woman was, co-starring with Patrick Wilson.

"No way, oh my god...! I thought she looked familiar, but I didnt-! She has a sister?!"

You giggled at his passion, forgetting all about your worries and your scares while you two gossiped and ranted for as long as you could stay awake. Every fact branching off into more conversation until you two layer sprawled out in your fort, wrappers and bags everywhere while huddled in each other's arms. A perfect way to end the Halloween night, or any night, for that matter.

Bonus Ending (bc I like to spoil my readers🤭😼):

The light of the early morning sun blared through the window, neither of you two affected by its rays due to the comfort and darkness of your cave-like fort. A peaceful slumber had taken over the both of you, blissfully unaware of the chaos about to strike.

"Aah..."

"Whfmgh...! Wha'the fuck, dude...?!"

While your "scream" was barely that (more of a monotonous noise drenched in tiredness), Freddy was quick to react with slurred words to the sudden beams of light and wrecking of your guy's structure with wild movements. It was then replaced by a glare towards his brother, Billy staring down back at them with the same expression.

"I'm taking my blanket back. I was cold all night and could barely even make it to my bed because of... whatever this is, in my way."

"Bro, you just destroyed-!"

"-I don't care. Use your own shit next time."

You couldn't help but push your face further into the pillow. You tried your hardest to will yourself back to sleep, even if you were unable to help but smile at the amount of sass going on in the room. From two teenage boys, no less. But then again, what did you expect?

"Okay, so actually, you weren't even here when we used your stuff, so it was free game."

"What, am I supposed to call dibs on my own blanket, now?"

"What are you, five?" Was Freddy's quick-witted retort, pitching his voice up high to mimic that of a whiney baby. "Oh, woe is me, I'm Biwwy Batswon, and I can't sweep withouwt my bwankie, wah-wah-wah!"

The brunette's glare worsened, Freddy slightly feeling the pressure of this and going quiet for a mere, peaceful, four seconds while Billy spoke.

"...You're only acting like this 'cause she's here. And as soon as she's gone, I'm beating you with your own pillow."

You snorted, having yet to lift your face from the pillow nor choosing a side to the argument.

"Yeah, well, you wanna know who wasn't here? You! Or anyone else while I was stuck here! Lonely, all by myself with my girlfriend and way less candy than you, so you should consider yourself lucky that yo-"

"-Fine, you know what...?!" Billy interjected, moving across the room with an eerie silence that caused you to finally pop your head up and peer through your messy bed-head hair.

"Take it all, I don't give a shit...!!"

And with that, Billy practically launched his giant pillow case of candy in the direction of you two, suckers and gummies and whatever else flying everywhere while most others pelted the two of you like hail.

Natrually, you both screamed.

And, for legal purposes, it all ended in harmless laughter🫶🏽.

I miss Halloween, bruh, even tho the vibes have been kinda lackluster for it the past few years🥴.

~ Star✨️

Back to Master List

[hessofather]

Chapter 4: Math is a Drinking Game

While I may not have had the best father in the world, I believe I may have the best grandpa in the world. He is the reason I am who I am today in all the best ways.

Another one of my first memories in life is my grandpa setting me on the hood of his truck and getting surrounded by cows and screaming. I heard my grandpa chuckle and say “go on now ladies, git.” Then seeing him emerge from the cattle, looking like an old cowboy Jesus, picking me up, and setting me in the truck saying “you stay put, I’ll be right out here. Don’t drink my beer” I drank the beer.

I spent a lot of my time with my grandpa as a kid. Most of the time was spent going out to count cattle and then heading out to the bar, where I’d walk up to old men and start talking until they’d finally cave and give me pool table money, just to get me out of their hair. When I got tired of playing pool I’d find my grandpa sitting at the bar, tell the bar tender that I wanted my usual, (Rootbeer in a beer bottle), and pop some chew (shredded beef jerky in a can) in my lower lip, and sit in silence as my grandpa watched whatever sport was on the tv that day.

We went out and counted cows, then headed to the bar every Wednesday. Beer was half priced on Wednesdays so my grandpa and I called it “cheapy Wednesday.” After the bar we’d head to the dollar general to pick up snacks for the day, and whatever household item my grandma had requested we pick up. The checkout lady would say “How’s it going Handsome? And hi there brown eyes!” I would smile and my grandpa would say “Oh just got little boss with me today.” We’d finish checking out and he’d say “where to now boss?” By then it was almost lunch time so I would request to go home and have a grilled cheese for lunch. I still to this day believe my grandpa makes the best grilled cheese in the world.

Once we got back to his house he’d make me a grilled cheese, swaying just a little after all the beers he’d just drank. Still though, they came out perfect every time. Once the food was finished cooking we’d head to his sitting room and watch Matlock, Forensic Files, cold cases, and looney toones. I preferred Forensic Files over Cold Cases, but didn’t mind it since my grandpa preferred Cold Cases. I always hated not getting an answer, I’d think about it for days. “It was probably the husband, it always is.” My five-year-old brain concluded.

Once Matlock was over we’d have the rest of the shows playing “in the background” while I did schoolwork. My grandpa was in charge of teaching me science, math, and history. When we’d get to the math portion things always got intense. I sucked at math and so did he. So we’d be struggling to learn it together. He’d finally make a breakthrough and understand the question, try to explain it to me, and fail miserably, take a shot of Jim Beam and tell me the answer saying “you’ll never use that in life anyway.”

My mom worked for my grandma, cleaning house, taking her on errands and to doctors appointments, filling her medication, and cooking. Once my mom was done for the day we’d go home and finish my schoolwork. Spelling, English, Bible, and Music. I played piano for at least 30 minutes to an hour every day after the rest of schoolwork was finished. Then clean until dinner was ready, eat dinner and clean up, take a bath, go to bed. This was my daily routine (minus the bar in the mornings, that was only Wednesdays.) until I was about 13.

My grandpa, while not even technically blood related, was the member of my family I felt the closest and safest with. He would always tell me his version of the day I was born which always went “I looked at you in that little room through the glass, you looked back at me and smiled, because you instantly knew you had me wrapped around your finger.” And boy did I know it. I knew that I could call him up at any hour, day or night, and simply ask him to come over with a snack and he’d be there in about 20 minutes. I always told him “You can say no. I’ll be sad and I might cry. But you can tell me no.” To which he always replied “I can’t say no to you darlin, don’t know how.”

My grandpa and I had lots of little sayings that we’d repeat to each other all the time. Like “I got one fist of iron and another fist of steel, if the left one don’t git ya then the right one will.” “Im a mean motor scooter and a bag go getter.” We had songs we’d sing like a song about how the snakes come out at night, and a song, I recently learned he didn’t make up, called big rock candy mountain. Anytime my grandpa would sing that song I thought it was so silly and that he had just made it up to make me laugh. Finding the actual original version of it on Spotify not too long ago, made me so happy and laugh at the fact that I thought that was his song all these years.

One of our greatest traditions every year was the day before Mother’s Day. He’d take me out to this random spot in the country and we’d stop and pick yellow trumpet flowers, tons of em’. Take them home, cut and wash them, put them in vases and give one set to my grandma and one set to my mom. They acted surprised every single year.

As I got older my grandpa tried to help me navigate being a “young woman” in the best ways he could. I brought a pair of high heels to his house, threw them on the ground frustrated, “I can’t walk in these damn things grandpa. I’d rather just be barefoot.” He said “Now sis, ya can’t be barefoot everywhere you go. Try to walk in them, let me see what yer doin.” I begrudgingly put them back on and tried to walk across the floor, looking like a newborn calf tying to figure out left from right. “I think you need to put more pressure on yer tippy toes. Like this.” To which he stood up on his tippy toes walking a few steps. What he didn’t realize was that my grandma and mom were watching this whole encounter trying their best to not laugh. He noticed them and said “I’m just tryna help the girl out! She’s gotta learn someday somehow. And it ain’t gonna happen if she keeps doin it like that.” To this day I still can’t walk in heels.

I remember bleeding through my shorts when I got my period at my grandpas house. Then out of embarrassment I hid crying and trying to not let my grandpa know that this horrible tragedy had occurred. I became a . . . Woman. Gross. He put two and two together and figured out what had happened, came to the bathroom door and knocked. Then simply asked “you alright sis?” I was crying and angry and said “IM FINE LEAVE ME ALONE.” To which he just chuckled and said “alright I’ll call yer mom.”

My grandpa was the first person to attempt to teach me how to drive, that ended quickly after I put us SLIGHTLY in a ditch. In my defense that was the first time I’d ever heard him yell at me. He was saying “SIS STOP. THE DITCH.” But still, I was upset that he’d yelled. He recalls the story a little differently than I do but my perspective is the only one you’re getting out of me.

I remember after I got one of my first tattoos on my shoulder blade. He came up to me and smiled real big, then gave me a “howdy” kind of smack on the shoulder directly on the tattoo. I winced in pain and he looks at me and laughs saying “Oh I’m sorry sis, I figured that there’s no way that’s real. Since I’ve been tellin you yer whole life not to get tattoos.”

My grandpa will always hold one of the highest places in my mind. Despite his blurry past of things he would never talk about. I choose to see the man that practically raised me instead of whatever version he has made himself to be in his own mind. While he continues to get older, I continue to worry more and more about the dreaded day that he leaves this world. I have all his favorite songs memorized and he tells me “when I go I want you to take my cowboy hats. Yer the only one I trust to wear em’ right.” To which I reply “Well that’s never gonna happen. You’ll be the last one standing on this earth along with the cockroaches.” He’ll chuckle and say “Nope that’s yer grandma. It’ll be her, cockroaches, and Twinkies.” We’ll laugh and it’ll go silent while he resumes watching college football and I sit there trying to not let the lump in my throat win. I dread the day he says goodbye, but I know that every time I think of, or hear his favorite songs, that’ll just be him reminding me that I still suck at wearing heels.

[call-me-strega]

28 Failed Attempts and 1 Heist Later- Chapter 1

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50958199/chapters/128740585

It was obvious, if you paid attention that is, that Hobie Brown's love language towards others was Acts of Service. It's how he showed he cared. Such as when he made his own interdimensional watch to help Gwen rescue Miles and let her crash in his dimension, or when he tried to give Miles advice on his electrical powers, or even when he looked after Mayday when Peter got busy or just needed a break. Really it wasn't difficult to see that when Hobie cared about someone he tried to do things that would help them or make them happy. That's why when he finally got the bottle to confess to his best spider-mate, Pavitr Prabhakar, he decided to do a meaningful gesture to confess his fancy.

Pavitr was a bloody amazing lad in his eyes: brilliant, full of beans, incredibly strong, a real ace Spider-Man, and a right-fit bloke as well. He never seemed to let life get him down too long, always looking for a positive and keeping good humor about him. He knew when to get serious and deeply cared for his friends. When Pav had learned he didn't always have steady meals back in his dimension not only did he give Hobie an open invitation to pop in for a meal whenever he fancied but insisted on teaching him some proper Indian dishes so he could feed himself. Who wouldn't fall for a boy like that?

This led him to where he was now, in his kitchen a month before his planned confession trying to figure out how to not muck up a simple dal recipe. Masoor daal, or red lentils, was a relatively simple recipe Pav made for him before, so he thought he'd give it a go. All he really had to do was wash the lentils, fry up his aromatics, add in the lentils with water and some seasonings (Pav had stressed to him just salt and pepper was in no way enough seasoning), and cook until they reached the desired soft daal texture. Easy right? What could possibly go wrong?

-15 minutes later-

BEEEP! BEEEP! BEEEP! BEE-

Hobie frantically pushed open a window, coughing and trying to get the smoke and smell out of his kitchen. How did I even manage to burn the aromatics three seconds after putting them in? I thought oil boiled not burned! A quick consultation with the internet and the old Punjabi couple living a few blocks down revealed he should adjust the heat level and peel his ginger before use, or substitute it with ginger paste, which he decided to forgo wanting the dish to be as close to Pavi's daal as possible well there was still time to try to perfect it.

-5 days later-

On his next attempt, Hobie forgets to add the aromatics altogether and while edible the dish is rather lacking

-1 week later-

On his 12th attempt, Hobie get runs out of spices and the daal comes out just a touch too bland. He sighs to himself and resolves to acquire more before his next attempt.

-the next day-

On his 13th attempt, Hobie is reequipped with spices. Unfortunately for him, he goes a little heavy-handed with the garam masala. Even the Cheema's ( the old Punjabi couple) find it a bit difficult to choke down.

-1 lifetime later-

It is Hobie's 21st attempt and he thinks he's really got it this time. That is until his spider-hearing picks up a kerfuffle that sounds like the beginnings of a brawl. He takes glance a at the stove, telling himself he'll only be gone jiffy before swinging out the window. By the time he gets back, the daal is pitifully mushy and unappetizing.

-1 eternity later-

It is Hobie's 29th and final practice attempt before he confesses to Pavitr in three days. He finds himself saying a little prayer to the food gods that this attempt is successful. He carefully prepped his ingredients, adjusted the heat, and figured out the spice ratio and the exact cook time. All that was left to do was pray he hadn't managed to fuck up in some new way this time. Upon the taste test, Hobie nearly cries tears of joy. It was nowhere near as good as Pav made it, the cumin tasted slightly burnt, there were small chunks of garlic in it, and it was just a tad too soft but it was edible and tasted like daal, admittedly subpar daal, but daal none the less.

Hobie reveled in his victory, giggling to himself while packing some up for the Cheema's to try, the sweet couple gave him some surprisingly harsh feedback and great advice on cooking in the last month. Just as he was about to leave he got a notification on his watch, a message from Pav reminding him that the gang would be having a meet-up today "where the British stole all our stuff". Suddenly, a light bulb went off in Hobie's head. A devilish grin spread across his face. Well, now there's an idea that's more my speed.

~~~

British Slang Glossary:

Bottle- courage or bravery

Fancy- used as a verb "to fancy", meaning to like or want something, usually expressing a crush or craving food

Bloody- used to emphasize a point

Full of Beans- full of energy

Fit bloke- attractive man

Ace- amazing

Muck up- make a mess of, fail miserably

Kerfuffle- a fuss or commotion

Jiffy- a short amount of time

[midnightmisadventures]

Ughhh i dont feel like writing this but i am feeling a little romantic, and hopeful, and dense so...

I owe it to myself

Um in my dream i was talking to Liam. Like not in person but we had been texting or so?? idk

But basically there was this fam christmas party thing going on, or about to go on. Maybe our fam was just together for christmas at this rental house.

I was on zoom with Liam. He was doing schoolwork. Had a textbook out and everything, reading, highlighting, annotating with sticky notes. Blue hoodie and everything

But we were just casually talking and it was like i was keeping him company.

I ended up laying down in bed while my computer was on my desk.

And we were talking and i fell asleep. Took a looooong nap. Didnt mean to be that long. I woke up and and Liam was still there on zoom, he had been there for hours just working while i napped.

I was almost embarrased like i was full sleeping, im pretty sure i shouted sleepy answers to my mom out my room. I couldve looked weird, someone couldve came in.

Like that whole time he was there and i was wondering why he stayed so long, if i was sleeping. So, kinda cute, kinda embarrassed.

Anyway so i was getting up, clearing my through trying to think of what i should say to show him im awake. I was overthinking it, running it through my head what to say. Like ask him about his assignment? Say i didnt mean to fall sleep? Do i act surprised he's still here or not yada yada

Just as im about to say something, he leaves the call

And i was like FUCK.

I just felt stuck....like i didnt know what to do. It still felt so new, so i was nervous to text him. I think i just decided to leave it, and not acknowledge it. Like i'll just know back of mind, he stayed on hours while i slept.

Then, im awake and in the house downstairs with the fam. The young adults had already been drinking and getting lit, i was behind. Aunty yolo had a son? or a grandson? a young boy that was missing. It was pretty serious, he had wondered off while i was asleep, so the cops werent worried about it yet. We were all trying to be hopeful that he'd just gone walking and that he'd find his way back.

Outside of that, adults, were cooking YA were drinking and i begged everyone to go in the hottub cause it was 50 degrees outside and the pool was too cold.

So we all suited up to go in, i felt STUNNING. Black bikini, and brown coverup dress, lots of mesh. I felt really pretty.

Anyway, we went in and it was fun. But i had left to charge my phone, pen, etc but when i came back they were all playing a game. And i realized it was just kinda like hot gos. But any pop culture or family topics.

Long story short.....cory from big brother was stumbling me asking a "juicy gossip question" that was basically....

"is Liam the only one you're pursuing, or still interested in?" and maybe just maybe that wasnt the question. But he had to know the answer to that question to finish his statement so it felt like a coverup anyway.

Anyway, i didnt think anything of it. And was kinda being sassy about it, like spit it out, why are you asking about Liam??

So he was like...."is Liam....are you with Liam...., does he" stammering and stumbling. And i was like "what??, is Liam what" *in italics*

Sorry i just got a crazy deja vu about writing this dream.

But he never pressed me to ask what he needed to ask in full. But it was like he was trying to get information. And i had the attitude of "im willing to answer honestly, you just have to actually ask.

I remember wanting to say "i'll let him know you asked about him" cause i didnt think most people knew Liam and I were on a talking basis again. Because it was new

Thats it i think

[impishtubist]

“bye, bus!”

Okay, so this post keeps crossing my dash, and I tried to bully the Discord into writing a Wolfstar fic for it, only to accidentally end up writing Prongsfoot for it myself instead 🤦‍♂️ I blame @theresthesnitch​. 

----

“You’re sure you have everything?”

Teddy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Padfoot, I’ve got everything.”

Sirius crossed his arms, aiming a stern look at his godson. “You left your packing until an hour ago, so forgive me if I’m a bit skeptical.”

“If I left anything, you can just send it through the Floo, it’s not a big deal.”

“Maybe I’ll just keep it for myself.”

Teddy shrugged. “That’s fine, Papa will just buy it for me again. He’s rich, you know.”

“Oi!” Sirius reached up to ruffle Teddy’s blue curls, and the boy ducked away from him. “Don’t let Da hear you say that, brat. When did you turn into a teenager?”

“Three years ago, when I turned thirteen.”

“Two minutes!” Stan called from the door of the Knight Bus. Teddy’s luggage was already on board, so he picked up his smaller bag and slung it over his shoulder. Sirius felt a familiar pang behind his sternum. Teddy had spent one month with him every summer since he turned six, giving Remus and Kingsley a break while Sirius got to relentlessly spoil his godson. Teddy would be an adult by this time next year, graduated from Hogwarts and off on his next adventure. Who knew if he even wanted to spend time with Uncle Sirius after that?

“Stop that,” Teddy said, poking him in the side. Other passengers were saying their goodbyes and boarding the Knight Bus. “I’ll see you at the station on September first, yeah? And I’ll be home for Christmas. Besides, you’ll be so busy with your little rascals once school starts again that you won’t even miss me.” 

“You were one of those little rascals once, you know.” Sirius had been teaching at a magical nursery school for--Merlin, for almost twenty years now. He loved his babies to pieces, though now he felt painfully old. Where had the time gone? 

“Yeah, and I was a menace.”

“A very cute menace, though.” Sirius hugged Teddy one last time. “Travel safe, and call me through the mirror as soon as you’re home. Oh, and give your da a kiss from me.”

Teddy pulled back, a mischievous glint in his eye. “But not Papa?”

“Your papa can have a kiss from me when he sends me the Galleons he owes me from last week’s match.” 

Teddy was the last passenger on the bus. The doors closed, and Sirius raised his hand to wave as the engine roared to life. A few other wixen who had come to see loved ones off were also waving. 

“Say bye, bus!” Sirius said cheerfully, as the Knight Bus disappeared with a loud pop. 

“Bye, bus!” someone next to him said. 

Sirius froze. Oh, no. Two decades spent teaching little ones had instilled some ridiculous habits in him, like speaking cheerfully to inanimate objects and encouraging others to do the same.

Slowly, he turned to face the person who had unwittingly bade the bus goodbye, and found himself face-to-face with a man whose expression looked as mortified as he imagined his own did. 

“Er,” Sirius said lamely. “I teach toddlers.” 

“I have a six-year-old,” the man said. 

And then, they both burst out laughing. 

“I can’t believe I said that,” Sirius wheezed. “Oh, Merlin.”

“Do you--do you do that with everything?” the man cackled. “Do you say goodbye to cars too? What about broomsticks?”

“Stop it.” Sirius covered his burning face with his hands. 

“Do you talk to food while you’re cooking? ‘Hello, Mr. Tomato, are you ready to be chopped into tiny pieces today?’”

“You cannot tell anyone this happened,” Sirius said, lifting his head. “I’m going to make you swear an Unbreakable Vow.” 

The man’s laughter tapered off, though he kept chuckling, and he lifted his glasses to wipe his eyes. He had a mop of dark, messy hair on his head, brown skin, and a build like a professional Quidditch player. In short, he was fit, and Sirius’s heart tripped in his chest. 

The man put his glasses back on and considered Sirius, his eyes flicking from Sirius’s feet all the way up to his hair. 

“I might be persuaded to keep your secret,” the man said, “if you buy me a cup of coffee.” 

Sirius’s heart beat faster. Was he really--? 

“Thought you said you’ve got a kid,” he said cautiously.

“Divorced,” the man said. “You?”

“Single.”

“Great!” The man stuck out his hand. “I’m James.”

“Sirius, like the star.” 

James’s hand was warm, his grip firm. A shiver went down Sirius’s spine. What was wrong with him? Getting all flustered over a handshake. He wasn’t fourteen anymore! 

“Coffee, then?” 

Sirius grinned. “Coffee it is.”

[frogtanii]

℗ home

kenma x fem!reader (poker face ending)

series masterlist

♡´･ᴗ･`♡

wc. 2.9k (ahaha)

warnings. NOT PROOFREAD, liberal use of italics, soft soft, kenma in denial, allusions to marriage, bokuto and kuroo meddling, drinking, declarations of love, SMUT!!! (is marked off!), sub!kenma, handjob + blowjob, slightly insecure!kenma, meiko mentions, enthusiastic consent, one (1) katamari reference, vocal!kenma, uhh

an. good golly gee i HATE ending the endings m so bad at it AND the smut is lil weirder to skip??? like it’s not impossible or anything but it’s not as smooth as atsumu’s, m rlly sorry :((((( but i rlly hope y’all enjoy hehe don’t forget to feed me shawties :3

the loud obnoxious pop music blasting in the crowded bar around kenma made him want to fling himself into the moon at the nearest opportunity.

okay, so that was a little dramatic but the fact still stood.

he was crammed into a tiny booth with kuroo, bokuto, and akaashi, the former brushing up against him with every little movement, making kenma bristle in discomfort.

why the hell did i agree to this, kenma thought while sipping on his cranberry juice. he’d never enjoyed drinking, his true thoughts and feelings coming out way too easily once intoxicated. it was so infuriating being a lightweight, especially when everyone around him was disgustingly drunk.

“are you having fun kenma?” bokuto half yelled, half slurred into his ear from across the table. kenma slouched further into the booth’s stained cushions in response, his lack of answer not bothering bokuto in the slightest.

with the boisterous man’s attention successfully diverted by akaashi, kenma allowed his eyes to wander out over the dance floor but he wasn’t really paying them any mind. instead, his mind was occupied with none other than you.

it shouldn’t have been that surprising considering all the time he’d been spending with you recently. it had been a few months since the hyper house had disbanded and while you were enjoying your time living with your best friends, they had way too much sex. like an abnormal amount.

it had gotten to the point where you were having to abscond from the apartment four times a week because they were just so loud.

at first you had found refuge in the 24 hour cafe a few blocks from your place but falling asleep at a hard wood table only to have to walk home at 2am alone was terrible for your peace of mind (and your back).

you’d started complaining about it at your weekly animal crossing hang outs with kenma and he’d offered the brilliant solution of you coming over to his place when makki and mattsun were otherwise... occupied.

you were shocked at his suggestion and aptly so. it was no news that kenma absolutely hated hosting and having people over, especially since he was one of the few former members that were able to afford their own place straight out the gate.

when you’d expressed this, all he had said was, you’re different.

that wasn’t enough for you, evidenced by your once again nightly stays at the cafe but when you had to run home because someone was following you, you begrudgingly agreed to kenma’s offer and started sleeping at his house multiple times a week.

it was a bit to get used to at first, seeing you first thing in the morning with messy hair and sleep-swollen eyes. you were beautiful jarring. but, as time passed, he got used to your presence, making your drink of choice and sliding him his tea in the morning, sending him a soft smile that had him running to the bathroom to hide his blush.

it was all... strangely domestic.

even now, the thought of you in your threadbare sleep shirt, standing in his kitchen while cooking breakfast sent a wave of heat across his face, spreading up to the tips of his ears.

“what are you thinking about that’s got you so red?” kuroo teased, pulling the glass out of kenma’s hands, laughing at his annoying glare. he hoped he could ignore the question as he so often did, but apparently he wasn’t so lucky.

bokuto cackled in his seat before calling out your name, sending a chill of fear down kenma’s spine. “bet he’s thinkin about her! about how he wants to smooch her and maybe more,” he waggled his eyebrows, “i’m just saying!”

the rest of the table let out good natured laughs but kenma was preoccupied with replaying what bokuto had said.

i mean, sure he thought you were pretty, but anyone with eyes would agree! and yeah, maybe spending time with you was the highlight of his week, but it wasn’t his fault you were so genuinely enjoyable to be around. and of course, sometimes when it was late at night, his mind would wander to you and how it would feel to wake up beside you instead of across the hall from you and—

fuck. he liked you. a lot.

then, as if you somehow knew exactly what was on his mind (a terrifying thought to entertain), his phone buzzed in his hoodie pocket. he pulled it out quickly to check it and he hated how his heart picked up in his chest at the sight of your contact name.

[sussy baka <3]: wya shawty 🤨 u have no food in ur fridge n m hungry seen 13:20

[player ew]: s boys night seen 13:22

[sussy baka <3]: 😐

[sussy baka <3]: are u having fun seen 13:25

[player ew]: ... seen 13:28

[sussy baka <3]: yeah that’s what i thought

[sussy baka <3]: bring home some ramen <3 seen 13:31

home. god, if he didn’t like the sound of that coming from you. it took kenma no time at all to start packing up his things, ignoring the knowing looks on his friends faces as he tossed down a couple of bills for his drink and left to go home, where you were.

after stopping at the convenient store, he headed to his apartment building, shopping bag full of ramen in one hand and heart in the other.

no matter what he did, he couldn’t get bokuto’s annoying voice out of his head, telling him that he liked you. and now that he knew it was true? he was kind of spiraling.

the ding of the elevator managed to somehow shake him out of his thoughts, at least for him to get to his front door, but once it was open, all coherent brain activity immediately dissolved.

you were sitting on his couch in the living room, bundled up in one of his mario blankets and wearing one of his hoodies as you watched some animal documentary raptly, sheer disgust written all over your face.

kenma gulped.

he managed to work up the courage to actually enter his apartment, kicking off his shoes by the door and beelining towards the kitchen, not missing your excited call of his name and wide grin.

biting down any other unchecked feelings, he quickly set to work boiling the water for the ramen and then... stood there. boiling water would take a while and he knew he couldn’t avoid you forever but he really, really didn’t want to go sit by you with all these emotions sitting right on his chest.

“kenma, they’re gonna eat the seal!” you yelled from the couch, waving him over frantically. how was he supposed to say no to brutal animal murder on tv? kenma chuckled dryly at his own joke as he made his way over to where you sat, plopping himself on the side of the couch furthest away from you.

he told himself he just didn’t want to bug you when he had to go check the water but he knew it was a lie. he was running from his feelings, from anything that could ruin this.

you shot him a concerned look which he caught out of the corner of his eye but he kept his head firmly forward, unwilling to look at you if he didn’t have to. “kenma, what’s wrong? was boys night that bad?” you asked gently, and fuck if that didn’t make him feel worse.

kenma just shook his head, still choosing not to face you. you let out a long, arduous sigh before scooting across the couch and pressing yourself to his side, pulling his head down to rest on your chest while taking one of his hands into your own.

what the fuck. what the fuck?!1!?1!!?1!

you were so soft and warm and your arms around him made him feel things which was exactly what he was trying to avoid but then you actually started to speak and oh shit it got worse.

“kenma,” you started, running your hands through his deep brown locks, “you know you can talk to me about anything right?”

of course he knew that because this was you and you were so kind and considerate and badass and cool and that was all precisely why he couldn’t talk to you about everything, especially when it came to his emperor of the cosmos sized feelings for you.

but, instead of saying any of that, he allowed you to continue, his body relaxing into your hold against his will.

“i bother you because i care about you and i worry, you know. i know you’re strong and you can take care of yourself but i can’t help it...” if kenma was really listening, he would’ve heard the shakiness in your voice, the apprehension in your words but he didn’t. “i can’t help it because i like you, kenma.”

you... what?

kenma pushed himself off of you to look you in the face, to find any sign that you’re pranking him or just being cruel but he couldn’t find any.

still, he couldn’t take you at your word, after all who would like someone like him?

“say it again,” his voice comes just under a whisper, his words stilted and unsure but he needs to know, he needs to believe you. he wants to believe you.

“i like you.” you don’t use any big, flowery words, nor do you try and justify why you like him and still, somehow it’s enough. kenma’s eyes filled with tears as they’re trained on you but your eyes were occupied elsewhere.

staring at his lips.

“can i kiss you?” you asked softly, not pressuring or forceful but like that was truly just on your mind and you had to ask it. kenma wasn’t sure how he was supposed to resist when you asked him like that. “please,” was his response, already breathy and absolutely wrecked.

you obliged.

•••smut begin•••

surging forward, you pressed your mouth to his, soft lips meeting chapped ones as you moved them insistently against his own. kenma let out an embarrassing whine at the contact, his hands balling into fists by his sides.

yours, on the other hand, wandered, tracing over the hills and valleys of his chest and back before landing right under the hem of his hoodie. you pulled back, laughing quietly at the way he so eagerly chased your lips while halting him with a hand to his sternum.

“can i take this off?” kenma nodded enthusiastically before he could stop himself and you let out another soft huff as you busied yourself with getting him naked.

he tried to help you where he could, but he was ultimately resigned to bask in your movements, in your control as you manhandled him out of every article of clothing he was wearing until he was as naked as the day he was born.

immediately, the insecurities took hold of him, his mouth opening to stutter out an apology for how he looked. meiko’s voice played in his ears, reminding him he wasn’t what the girls went for being too skinny, too sensitive, too loud.

kenma moved to pick his clothes back up to cover himself before retreating to his room where he could die of shame but your firm hand kept him where he sat.

“you’re beautiful,” you said, like you were saying the sky was blue or the grass was green — as an irrefutable fact. your brows were furrowed at first but the expression melted away to show a softer one, one full of love, admiration, and... lust.

a high-pitched whimper left his lips at your gaze, his cock throbbing against his thigh. you grinned and moved back in to kiss him, your hand moving to his throat to hold him in place, his adam’s apple bobbing against your palm.

your other, unoccupied, hand traveled down his body to rub over a nipple, his back arching into your touch as his breath hitched against your mouth. you let out a hum of approval, continuing your ministrations of pinching and plucking the hard bud before moving further down to take a hold of his cock.

kenma broke away from you, a choked wail erupting from his chest as he bucked up into your grip. “can i make you feel good? can i show you how beautiful you are?” you asked earnestly, your thumb gently caressing his jaw.

“please, please, please,” he begged. under normal circumstances, he would be embarrassed at how easily he’d been folding for you, but it was so much easier to just submit to your capable and willing hands.

“good boy,” you tacked on mindlessly, your blown eyes and kiss-swollen lips only adding to your debauched look. internally, kenma preened at the fact that he was responsible for you looking like that, so feral like you just wanted to eat him up.

which was apparently exactly what you wanted to do, evidenced by you sliding onto your knees in front of him, pressing kisses and sucking marks into his pale thighs.

kenma’s hips stuttered beneath you as he watched you get closer and closer to his throbbing member, the tip already bright red and leaking precum.

suddenly, your eyes shot up to his, pinning him with an intense stare as you slowly, slowly brought him to your mouth, the wet heat enveloping the head before you closed your lips around him and sucked.

holy fucking shit.

his reaction was instantaneous. his eyes rolled back into his head, his hips bucked up into your mouth, and a filthy moan escaped from him as you started to get into a nice rhythm sucking his cock.

kenma could barely keep himself quiet, especially when you began toying with his balls, the feeling adding to the coil tightening in his gut.

you pulled all the way off of him before sucking him down the hilt, his mouth opening in a silent scream as you choked around his length, the pleasure that your throat was bringing while you pulsed around him was otherworldly.

he was going to die, he resigned. he was going to die by the biggest orgasm he’d ever had with his penis in your mouth and he was going to love every second of it.

a sharp tap to his inner thigh brought him back down to earth, this bleary eyes trying to focus on your face and once they did, he was taken aback. your eyes held such fondness, such love that he could hardly take it.

kenma couldn’t hold back his thoughts, especially under the intensity of your gaze, his mouth opening to gasp out, “i love you, shit, i love you.”

you pulled off him with a pop but you didn’t stop stroking him, your hand picking up the pace to the point that his thighs were quivering with the strength of his oncoming orgasm.

“say it again,” you threw his words right back at him and if he’d been in his right mind, he might’ve laughed but since he was drowning in pleasure, he immediately followed your orders, groaning out those three words over and over until he was hoarse.

you seemed to enjoy it, so much so that you took the palm of your hand and toyed with the sensitive tip of his cock, sending him right over the edge.

his vision whited out completely as he came with a loud cry of your name, tears trailing from his lashline from the sheer severity of his orgasm, one hand grasped tightly in yours.

•••smut over•••

as kenma came down from his high, he watched you brush his hair from his face before pressing a kiss to his hairline.

“you know, i love you too,” you stated, pulling him up to rest his spent body against your own. he scoffed while playing with your hand, toying with your bare ring finger in a way that you knew was deliberate.

“i figured, you just sucked my dick.” you protested loudly, smacking him gently on the arm when he snickered at your reaction. after your laughter died down, he rested his head back over your heart, listening to the steady beat thrumming beneath his ear.

your hands tangled back into his hair and he felt himself drifting off into dreamland when a loud meow startled him awake again. kyabia (or caviar) stared up at him with unblinking feline eyes, her tail swishing silently against the floor. “oh god, my cat is seeing me naked,” he gasped in horror, your chest heaving against his ear as you cackled.

kyabia quickly got bored and scampered off to who knows where and by that time, kenma was ready to knock back out. you were still laughing though and since you were his human pillow, that just wouldn’t do.

shoving you down on the couch, he buried his head in your chest and muttered a blunt, “sleep,” ignoring the way your giggle made a smile spread across his cheeks.

obviously, you could tell if your own matching grin was anything to go by but you let it be, instead choosing to wrap your arms around him and hold him tighter to your body, like you were trying to pour all your love into the embrace.

kenma only hoped that you would also “let it be” when you caught him ring shopping on his phone just a few weeks later.

it was only a matter of time. why delay when he loved you and you loved him? he knew he couldn’t wait until he could officially call you his.

after all, kozume yn had a nice ring to it.

Oh, home, let me come home

Home is wherever I'm with you

Oh, home, let me come home

Home is wherever I'm with you

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[stardustbarbarians]

We Live Such Fragile Lives

A Samuel Kiszka/Daniel Wagner fic

Summary: Sometimes singing Dirty Little Secret by The All-American Rejects can lead to earth-shattering events.

Tags: fluff, college au, some angst sprinkled in there, getting together, pining.

A/N: I am very much aware that Samuel Francis is a vegan but I wrote this for a class assignment a while ago and just changed out the names. I couldn't be fucked with thinking of a vegan alternative to a grilled ham and cheese sandwich so he's not vegan for this story. (Edit I have since been informed that he's pescatarian)

Words: 3.6 k

+++

“No way, that didn’t happen,” Daniel cut off, speaking over his lager bottle. The dismissiveness was apparent in his tone and body language. 

“What do you mean ‘that didn’t happen’? Why would I lie about something like that??” Sam exclaimed, the violation written on his facial features, hands half raised in the air while resting his elbows on his knees. Daniel was sitting in the leather recliner, Samuel across from him on the worn fabric couch. Everything in their apartment was worn out or nearly trashed, so was the life of college students. 

“You’ve always had a taste for hyperboles, Kiszka,” Danny said exasperatedly, taking another drink from the brown bottle in his hand.  

“He was chasing me with a taser, Daniel!” Sam was now standing, but Danny was still laying in his chair, unaffected and zoning out looking at the floor. Sam sighed when he knew he wasn’t going to get any further reaction from his roommate and walked towards the kitchen. 

“What do you want for dinner? I just got groceries,” he called out in an attempt to rouse Danny. He snapped out of wherever his mind was and briefly glanced towards the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. 

“Grilled ham and cheese with pickles,” he said through a sigh, still trying to fully regain his composure. 

“That kind of day, huh?” Sammy spoke into the open fridge, searching for the necessary ingredients. Daniel set his beer on the coffee table that had previously separated the roommates and shook his head. 

“Garry is trying to kill us, I swear,” Danny cried through his hands, all the stress from his classes bleeding through. 

“You knew how bad a medical degree would be,” Sam raised his voice over the sizzling of the ham popping on the pan. 

“I know, but I didn’t want to be disowned, ya know?” Daniel was turned towards Sammy, a tired and rueful smile on his lips. 

“You could always switch. Environmental science isn’t half bad, plus you’d already know a devastatingly handsome lad in the class,” the science major teased, trying to lift the mood. It made Danny scoff but smile genuinely, making Sammy smile as well. 

“I think it’s too late for that, about four years too late,” the med student played along, trying to take his mind off of how many papers he had to write and chapters to read tonight. The air had begun to be filled with cooked ham and butter, causing both boy’s mouths to water slightly. 

“Well, I tried at least. Hey, could you set the table?” Sam flipped one of the sandwitches and glanced in Danny’s direction, concentrating more on not burning the bread. He got up from the couch and walked a couple feet into the warm kitchen, reaching above Samuel’s head to grab glasses for the both of them. 

Their table was right next to the kitchen island that was more like a counter because of its length, and was basically a glorified card table. The yellow wood had turned gray along with finnish that flaked off easily, crayon stains added a colorful addition to the 34 by 34 inch square, compliments of Sam’s older siblings. If they had friends over, they would add the other two chairs, but because both had such long legs, they normally kept the extra stacked in the hall closet. 

Danny set the cups across from each other along with the plates, not bothering to grab silverware since they were eating sandwiches. He grabbed about five napkins for both of them. Sammy’s grilled ham and cheese was always on the greasy side, which is why he doesn’t make them that often. When he does, however, they make a huge mess of crumbs and oil. Totally worth having to vacuum after. 

“Coming in hot, coming in hot!” Sam warned hurriedly, nearly squished between the counter and Danny while holding the pan and spatula. Daniel slid out of the way swiftly trying not to bump the pan and burn himself. 

He smoothly ladled the sandwiches onto each plate and went back to place the cast iron back on the stove to be cleaned and oiled later. 

“You’re a god, Sam,” Daniel praised while taking in the smell of grease and fried ham. He pulled some of the spiked lemonade from the fridge and poured it into the glasses. 

“Not quite, but I can get your confusion,” the science major replied with fake arrogance. They both sat in their respective chairs and began to eat. 

“Alright, so I wasn’t fully listening earlier, what happened with the taser?” the med student inquiries through a mouthful. He felt energized just from that one bite alone. 

“Well,” Samuel began and then swallowed, showcasing better manners than his roommate, “you know how I have a talent of making a good situation terrible?” the science major said with a knit brow. Danny nodded, having multiple firsthand experiences.

“So I was talking to one of my classmates Eliza, you’ve heard me talk about her before,” Sam picked up his lemonade and took a sip.

“She’s cousins with Richie, right?” Daniel asked and Sammy nodded.

“Yeah, that’s her. So anyway, I was talking with her about what she missed on Monday and then her boyfriend walked into us. He started to get really angry and demanded to know what was happening.” 

Danny absorbed all this while chewing, already getting an idea of where this story was heading. 

“I told him we were only talking about class and he completely ignored me, only wanting an answer from Eliza. She repeated what I said but he didn’t believe her. Turns out, he found her active Tinder account where she was hooking up with random guys for about three months.” Sam saw Danny cringe, shaking his head in sympathy. 

“Tyler, her boyfriend, thought I was one of the guys she was cheating on him with and started to threaten me. We both tried to explain to him that I was merely in her Impact of Plastics class but he wouldn’t listen to reason,” Sammy sighed, wearing a face that masked his true fear over the memory. 

“Since I wasn’t leaving, he started to get physical and shoved me, nearly knocking me over. At this point, I knew that if I wanted to keep my perfect teeth intact, I had to run. He actually helped me by providing motivation. Y’know, just a high voltage taser that could probably send my ass straight to hell. So I ran for my life while thanking my mom for forcing me into track because I was able to outrun him after about three minutes.” He wiped his hands on one of the napkins and then his mouth. He started to laugh slightly. “It’s kind of funny, now that I think about it,” 

“So you managed to get attacked by an insane basketball player and outrun him.” Daniel was trying to make sense of Sam’s story. 

“Yeah, I kinda feel bad for Eliza, I hope she’s ok,” Sammy admitted, taking another gulp of lemonade. That’s Samuel for you, he can get attacked by someone and not even care about himself, rather for the person who caused it to happen. 

“Dude, she cheated on him, like, really badly.” Danny took another bite, the bread crunching along with a pickle, cheese stringing away from his mouth and connecting to the bread. 

“I know that, and that’s inexcusable, but she doesn’t deserve to be potentially harmed by Tyler.” Once again, Samuel Francis Kiszka was able to make Daniel Wagner feel like a horrible person because he was only able to see things from one side. 

Danny paused for a beat and sighed, realizing he was right. “Yeah, you’ve got a point. No one should have to fear for their safety like that.”

 Both boys felt a shift in the mood, causing silence to lace the air. 

They both finished their food quietly and then went their separate ways; Danny to his room to do his homework, Sammy to the bathroom to shower. They both wanted to try and lighten the mood, but didn’t know how. So they let the awkward and uncomfortable silence stay until Samuel’s singing ripped it open like a child opening a birthday gift. 

“Together, forever, that's how it must be to live without you, WOULD ONLY MEAN HEARTBREAK FOR ME!” Sam belted out barely on key, causing Daniel to burst out laughing while neck deep into reading on the nervous system. He kicked the wall that separated both of them lightheartedly, hearing a chorus of laughs break through the running water. 

“I thought you loved Aretha Franklin!” the science major teased through the wall, a smirk on his face. 

“Not when you sing it. I think she’s rolling in her grave right now knowing how badly you butchered his song,” Daniel played along, still reading his textbook. 

“She’s restless because she’s worried I sang it better than her,” Samuel said in what Danny calls his “Gaston voice”. 

“Do you take requests?” the med student asked, knowing in the back of his mind he’s procrastinating his paper. The water shut off and a moment later Sam was in his doorway with a towel around his waist and body dripping wet. Wagner involuntarily swallowed, caught off guard by his roommate half-naked. 

“Depends, are you ready to be blown away by my amazing singing?” Kiszka smirked, being his usual larger than life self. But it hit Danny differently when he was in just a towel. Sammy either didn’t notice Daniel’s blush or just didn’t care, but he was back to walking towards his room. 

“I-I was thinking Dirty Little Secret by The All-American Rejects.” It was a song both of them grew up hearing on the radio, Sam perhaps more than Daniel due to his older brother Jake’s emo phase.

Danny could feel his eyes were as wide as the Mariana Trench and he was trying to calm himself down. You’re overreacting, it’s just Sam. 

“Alright, I see you’re a man of culture. I’ll let you hear my angelic pipes just because you have taste,” Sam yelled from his room, probably finally putting on some godforsaken clothes. That thought comforted Danny and slowed his heart rate slightly. You can’t do that to yourself. 

Next thing he knows, Sam comes sliding into view wearing his gym clothes that consisted of a tight shirt that accentuated his muscles and running shorts. His socks were a picture of the Swedish Chef from the Muppets and came to the middle of his shin. In his hand was his can of spray deodorant that he was using as his microphone. 

“Let me know that I’ve done wrong, when I’ve known this all along.” A big grin was on his face as he was tapping his heel in time with the song. Daniel threw his pencil down onto his textbook to give Samuel his full attention. 

“I go around a time or two, just to waste my time with you,” Sammy sang, spinning around and dancing, trying to both entertain and distract the med student hoping to ease his stress. The smile on Danny’s face indicated that he was succeeding at least slightly. It was half pure anxiety and half heart-eyes. The last part confused the hell out of Sam, but also struck the slightest bit of hope into his heart. 

“Tell me all that you’ve thrown away,” Sam kept singing, getting progressively closer to his roommate, turning his actions into an overly dramatic serenade, going so far as to get down on one knee. 

“Find out games you don’t wanna play.” Sammy got up from off the floor and reached for his laughing friend’s hand, setting down the spray can. He pulled him up from the chair and into a traditional classic dance form, holding hands and the other on Danny’s waist. 

There was a certain charge that filled the air when the two took this stance. Both noticed it but prayed that the other one didn’t, continuing to ignore it. The color that flushed both of their faces and ears was also noticeable, but Daniel wrote it off on the spiked lemonade they drank with dinner. 

“You are the only one who needs to know.”

Daniel got chills from Sam’s line delivery, seeing as he whispered it into Danny’s ear, very close to his neck. He wanted to lean into it, to feel his warm breath on his skin more, but Sammy pulled away, breaking the spell. 

“I’ll keep you my dirty little secret,” Sam put his index finger to his plush lips, his green eyes sparkling like amber in the sun. Danny couldn’t tear his eyes away from Samuel’s and a voice from the back of his mind was screaming at Daniel to get away from him. 

He’d seen this happen before, they would go to a party and after a drink or two, Sam would be dancing with a beautiful girl in his arms, her unable to resist him. To feel this first hand was like a dream and a nightmare all rolled up into one giant, confusing swirl that both enticed and terrified Danny. 

“Don’t tell anyone or you’ll be just another regret.” Sam’s hand traced out Daniel’s jawline, landing on his chin. He wanted nothing more in that moment to know what was going on in that beautiful plotting mind, his amber eyes betrayed nothing of what the science major was thinking. 

“My dirty little secret,” Samuel breathed, holding Calvin’s chin softly. But it was clear he wouldn’t let Danny escape if so tried - which he didn’t want to do. 

Daniel’s mind was too muddled by the alcohol going through his mind to completely register what was unfolding before him. However when his lanky yet muscular roommate leaned in and stopped inches from his lips, he sobered up pretty quickly. 

“Who has to know?” 

He could feel Sam’s breath on his face, his lips so close to his own. The sinful look in his eyes and the sultry way he spoke the line all made Daniel Wagner weak at the knees. He was completely controlled by Sam Kiszka.

The move Sam made next was so infinitesimal but it completely and totally shifted Danny’s entire life. The feeling of Samuel’s soft bubblegum lips on his chapped and dry lips was the most addictive drug ever created. The levee had broken and Danny knew he was in trouble, but he didn’t seem to care yet. 

They both started to enjoy it more and more, needing each other in ways that they had never even dared to experience lest they ruin their lives. In the end, it was Danny that pushed Sam away, both needing but cursing the space between the two. 

“Sam, I can’t do this,” Daniel croaked out, tears trying to force their way out of his eyes. 

Sammy’s mask had finally broken, betrayal cracking through. 

“What do you mean? I thought you were enjoying it.” He tried to take a step forward but Daniel took a step back. If he got any closer, Danny would lose his composure and restraint. 

“Look, we’re both pretty drunk right now, let’s just pretend this never happened and go back to being roommates,” he pleaded, turning away from Sam, not willing to look into his eyes and see his broken expression. 

“You’re not making any sense here, Daniel.” Samuel had confusion laced into his words, probably on his face as well. 

“This isn’t really you and me, we’re both drunk and not ourselves. I don’t want us to wake up in the morning and both regret this,” Daniel squeaked. Sam sighed, he understood what Danny was talking about. 

“The lemonade wasn’t spiked, Danny. We’re both sober. And that beer you had doesn’t count because we both know you have a higher tolerance than that.” 

He was lying, he had to be. He’s trying to use any excuse to kiss me again. 

“Don’t lie to me, Samuel,” the med student snapped harsher than he wanted to. 

Sam was taken aback, he wasn���t expecting that reaction.

“I’m not,” Sammy emphasized, trying to save the situation. He was internally cursing his poor social recovery skills. This always happens, goddamnit. 

Daniel backed up into the wall, really desiring the floor to envelope him. The dark and empty call of the abyss seemed so much more comforting than being in the same room as Sam Kiszka. 

“Daniel, please, I-” Sam’s voice hitched, his tone slightly desperate and his face twisting to a pleading mask. 

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed deeply, trying to find composure and the right words. 

“I can’t believe this is about to happen…” Sammy whispered so quietly that Danny just barely comprehended it was audible.

“I've been in love with you, Daniel Wagner, ever since that formal banquet we had to attend sophomore year.” 

This made Danny freeze. No way in hell is he confessing to me like some kind of romcom. 

All he could do was look at his roommate as he was pouring out his heart, his own brain short circuiting and in a state of high panic. 

“You wanna know why?” Sam chuckled, but there was a hint of disbelief to it.

Danny just stared at him, unable to form words himself. Samuel continued anyway, taking the silence as a que to continue

“It wasn’t because of that suit you wore - well that could’ve been a factor. No, it was because the entire night I couldn’t find myself wanting to be with any other person in the whole goddamn room - hell, the whole world. I just felt so drawn to you in ways that I’d never felt before and I thought I was going crazy. I couldn’t help but feel a deep rooted jealousy when I saw you talking to other people that night, I only wanted you to spend all your time with me. Just me. But when I look back at that cold autumn party every night before going to bed, I realized that it wasn’t one singular moment that made me fall for you, it was the little things. The time you adjusted my tie for me, when you would crack jokes with me during the speeches to keep us both entertained, how you lost yourself to the music when dancing, when you poured extra pasta on my plate because I needed to ‘stop acting like I have a normal appetite’. I could go on for hours, but frankly, we both don’t need that. Bottom line, I’m in love with you, Daniel Robert.”

Samuel looked like a gargantuan weight had been lifted off his soul and he was finally able to breathe again. Danny, however, looked like a speeding train was about to demolish him. 

He didn’t know how to react. No one, it seemed, ever really wanted him. He was never anyone’s first choice nor anyone’s favorite. 

Next thing either of them know, tears start spilling out of Danny’s eyes like raindrops on a window in a heavy northern downpour. Sam felt all of his internal organs plummet thirty feet, once again not the reaction he was expecting. In all fairness, he didn’t know what he was expecting but it definitely wasn’t that. 

“Oh my god, Danny, I’m so sorry. Please don’t cry, oh my god I’m so sorry,” Sam panicked, once again displaying his ineptitude with bad situations. 

“No one’s ever wanted me like that,” Daniel whispered brokenly, hitting Sammy right in the chest. 

Sam struggles for words, his mouth opening and closing. 

“I’ve never been anyone’s first choice, Sam, not even in my own family. So you better not be fucking with me or I swear to any god out there that I will personally make sure I’m the last face you’ll ever see!” Daniel lashed out, his emotions getting the best of him and not being able to apply his filter. 

He’d been deeply hurt by this, Sam noted, and wanted to do everything in his power to help him. 

“I swear to god I’m telling you the truth, Daniel. I want you, you’re my first choice. I love you.” The science major was walking slowly over to Danny like he was a scared animal, speaking softly to try and soothe him. 

The med student pulled his roommate into a tight and loving embrace and sobbed into his chest. There they were, the words he’s been longing for his entire life, needing since he first realized that his parents never actually wanted him at such a young age. All the memories of his lonely childhood were resurfacing, never being allowed to touch his parents or even speak to them unless spoken to, being raised by tutors and nannies. Then he heard the words that he’d been wanting to hear the most in his life. 

“I’m proud of you, Daniel,” Sam whispered intimately while stroking Danny’s curly, dark hair. It was too much for Danny, he was sobbing uncontrollably while allowing himself to finally indulge in his feelings for his roommate.

He finally broke out of the hug and pulled Sam down to his lips, sharing a tender kiss that told the other that they were willing to take on the world together.

“That was great, Sammy, but I need to do my homework now,” Dany laughed, using his hoodie sleeve to wipe the tears from his eyes. 

Sam had a huge grin on his face. 

“Well, I hope you’re ready to write your paper with me cuddling you, because that’s the only way I’m letting you do anything,” Sammy informed, a smile still across his lips as he spoke. 

“Fine!” Daniel laughed, tears still falling from happiness.

Sammy grabbed Danny’s hand and they walked into Daniel’s bedroom to cuddle and try to get some homework done, feeling like they finally both belong. 

+++

Tagged: @sarakay-gvf @hyperfixated-gvf @gretnabancheese @kdarling1

Daniel:@doodle417 @sammykiszkasunusedshoes @jmks-housewife @alwayssotiredbutneverofyou @ageoferin @etoilesnoor @ascendingtostardust @godlygreta @s0livagant @gretavanflowerpower @morganic-goods @dannythedog @baguettejuliette @fan-girl-97 @gaby-gvf @age-of-nyahh @mzbrightside @myownparadise96 @xserenax-13 @sammysvanfeet @strugglingtodoshit @loofypoofy @chalametpwk @seventieswhore

Samuel: @doodle417 @sammykiszkasunusedshoes @jmks-housewife @ageoferin @alwayssotiredbutneverofyou @etoilesnoor @ascendingtostardust @godlygreta @turtleskane @s0livagant @gretavanflowerpower @morganic-goods @dannythedog @baguettejuliette @fan-girl-97 @gaby-gvf @age-of-nyahh @mzbrightside @myownparadise96 @xserenax-13 @sammysvanfeet @loofypoofy @chalametpwk @seventieswhore

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