#and the flashlight in great expectations

[ourskiesaboveus]

the outsiders is a very good musical bottom text

[josecariohca]

.

[whispers-whump]

Some writing advice

that I like to use when I write. None of this is meant to be taken as hard and fast rules, they’re just things I like to do/keep in mind when I’m writing and I thought maybe other people would enjoy! <3

Never say what you mean

This is an offshoot of the very common “show don’t tell” advice, which I think can be confusing in application and unhelpful for scenes where telling is actually the right move. Instead, I keep the advice to never say exactly what I mean in stories.

By using a combination of showing and telling to hint at what you really mean, you force your reader to think and figure it out on their own, which makes for a more satisfying reading experience.

You might show a character getting angry and defensive in response to genuine care and concern. You could tell the audience that the character doesn’t see/talk to their parents often. But never outright give the real meaning that the character feels unlovable because of their strained relationship with their parents and as a result they don’t know how to react to being cared for.

Your readers are smart, you don’t need to spoon feed them.

Be sparse with the important things

You know how in a lot of movies there’s that tense scene where a character is hiding from something/someone and you can only just see this person/thing chasing them through a crack in the door? You get a very small glimpse of whatever’s after the character, sometimes only shadows being visible.

Do that in your writing. Obscure the important things in scenes by overdescribing the unimportant and underdescribing the important.

You might describe the smell of a space, the type of wood the floor is made of, the sound of work boots moving slowly across the room, a flashlight in the character’s hand. And there’s a dead body, laying in a pool of blood in the far corner of the room, red soaking into the rug. Then move on, what kind of rug is it? What is the color, patterns, and type of fabric of the rug?

Don’t linger on the details of the body, give your reader’s imagination some room to work while they digest the mundane you give them.

Dialogue is there to tell your story too

There’s a lot of advice out there about how to make dialogue more realistic, which is absolutely great: read aloud to yourself, put breaks where you feel yourself take a breath, reword if you’re stuttering over your written dialogue. But sometimes, in trying to make dialogue sound more realistic, a little bit of its function is lost.

Dialogue is more than just what your characters say, dialogue should serve a purpose. It’s a part of storytelling, and it can even be a bridging part of your narration.

If you have a scene with a lot of internal conflict that is very narration-heavy, breaking it up with some spoken dialogue can be a way to give some variety to those paragraphs without moving onto a new idea yet; people talk to themselves out loud all of the time.

Dialogue is also about what your characters don’t say. This can mean the character literally doesn’t say anything, they give half-truths, give an expected answer rather than the truth (“I’m fine”), omit important information, or outright lie.

Play with syntax and sentence structure

You’ve heard this advice before probably. Short, choppy sentences and a little onomatopoeia work great for fast-paced action scenes, and longer sentences with more description help slow your pacing back down.

That’s solid advice, but what else can you play with? Syntax and sentence structure are more than just the length of a sentence.

Think about things like: repetition of words or ideas, sentence fragments, stream of consciousness writing, breaking syntax conventions, and the like. Done well, breaking some of those rules we were taught about language can be a more compelling way to deliver an emotion, theme, or idea that words just can’t convey.

Would love to hear any other tips and tricks other people like to use, so feel free to share!!!

[17020]

BLUEPRINT

Soshiro Hoshina is great at following blueprints and maps, always finding his way back to you. Right?

TAGS . . . fluff/crack, clingy Hoshina, reader is called 'beautiful', this is my first time writing for kn8, expect more in the future! dedicated to @nyxypoo , for helping me organize my brainrot, and also to @maruflix , for introducing me to the manga in the first place.

Soshiro "Don't get attached to anyone" Hoshina had finally come to terms with the fact that, in order to sleep he needed warmth; one which only a human could provide.

Which is why he found himself in the wee hours of the morning completely awake, unable to catch a wink of sleep. His fingers desperately tapped over the screen of his phone, typing a message. When he sent it, his attention shifted to the background photo of his chat—a picture of a certain officer watching the sunset on the dormitories' terrace.

SOSHI <3 02:41 When are you cominggg I need you

YOU 02:41 I'm going in rn, I'll be there in 5

SOSHI <3 02:42 I'll get the toolbox then Good luck, sweetheart

Having been sworn to secrecy by Soshiro himself, you could not afford to have anyone find out about your relationship with the Third Division's vice-captain. It could jeopardize your job as a platoon leader, and also put both of your lives at risk. Because gossip flows like an endless river, and could eventually reach higher-ups, or worse, an identified kaiju disguised in human flesh.

You carefully aligned the screwdriver with the last screw left. Twisting it, you took it off and placed it with the other three under your pillow, inhaling deeply before taking off the vent panel and sliding in.

You knew the route like the back of your hand, the flashlight from your phone now deemed as unnecessary, for the amount of times in which you crawled through the Third Division's vent systems exceeded the hundreds. The cameras in the hallways would deem it suspicious if you went to sneak out to Soshiro's room directly, which is why you settled on using the vents.

You crawled and crawled, turning every few minutes until you reached your opening. Poking your head out you saw your boyfriend, waiting for you with open arms.

"Aww, is my little worm ready to be carried?" he cooed, his arms now on your sides as he pulled you towards him. You scoffed at the name, "You call me a worm again and I won't help you ever again."

He tilted his head back as he laughed, heading back to his bed, which had the covers already pulled back. He climbed in and patted the spot next to him, grinning from ear to ear when you laid next to him as he took the opportunity to place his head on your chest and wrap his arms around your waist.

"You've no idea how much I missed ya, darlin'."

"We saw each other in the cafeteria a few hours ago, Soshi" you smiled, your fingers running through his hair. You felt him pout as he whined, stating that a few hours were enough to drive him wild.

"Y'know that's not enough, beautiful."

When you agreed to date the Soshiro Hoshina you knew what you were signing up for. Every breathing moment, the vice-captain had to have his hands on you, whether it was his hand grazing yours during meetings, to him latching on to you in order to sleep.

You were his drug. Plain and simple.

It didn't take long for your boyfriend to fall asleep. Your presence alone was comforting, with your body offering him the peace and quiet that he longed for after a hard day at work. Unbeknownst to him, you took a bit longer to join him in dreamland, as you first had to hear the little sentences your boyfriend murmured here and there while fully asleep.

On tonight's menu? "...jus' wanna... be like this... forever."

Apparently, 'forever' lasted for around... half a day. 'Forever' did not include an incident with a honju, which ended up in you having to stay in the infirmary, after stepping in to help someone from your platoon.

Bed rest was mandatory. Those were the orders given to you by the vice-captain, after all. Having encountered and fought a fungal-type kaiju, he demanded you spend the night in the infirmary, in case there were any issues with spores.

Soshiro eyed the photo on his phone various times, only stopping to check the time. 1:34 am. Good enough, right?

SOSHI <3 01:35 Alright beautiful, I'm going in I think you're gonna have to get up from the bed to let me in tho I'll let you know when I'm there

YOU 01:36 The iv is in my left arm so I'll be good Good luck, handsome!!

The flashlight on Soshiro's phone was on, the photo on his screen displaying the blueprint of the vent system. The trajectory was simple: go straight, then right, then right again, and then straight into the infirmary vents. Plus, it would be way easier for him to recognize, as you promised him you would play some music from your phone for him to know which room it was.

And so, Soshiro Hoshina embarked on what could be the hardest mission of his life. He wondered how you were able to do this every night without fail, then do it again in the morning before the other platoon leaders woke up. He gained newfound admiration for you as he crawled his way into your room, his forehead red from hitting his head against dead ends multiple times.

At last, he found the panel.

There it was, the soft classical music playing in the room. Weird, he thought, Yn never really listens to this type of music. He shrugged it off, believing that it might have been a special signal just for him.

"Psst—hey—special delivery coming through."

Silence. You must have fallen asleep.

"Yn" he whisper-yelled, "Angel, open the vent for me, yeah? It's kinda cramped in here."

No response.

He sighed as he pressed the call button, uncomfortably holding the phone against his ear. When he noticed your phone didn't ring, he assumed it was silenced. The vibrations surely would wake you up, right?

YOU: Soshi, are you here? I don't see you anywhere

SOSHI <3: Angel I'm here, I followed the music—didn't know ya liked classical

YOU: Classical? Baby, I'm playing Ciara.

SOSHI <3: Then whose room am I in?

The moment Soshiro heard the growl of a feline, he ended the call.

SOSHI <3 02:53 HOLY SHHIT I THINK I ENDED UP IN CAPTAIN ASHIRO'S ROOM

YOU 02:53 HOSHINA THAT WAS ON THE OTHER SIDE DID YOU EVEN READ THE BLUEPRINT???

SOSHI <3 02:54 Oh so I'm Hoshina now. You don't love me. Btw I'm stuck and Bakko found me I love you

"Vice-captain Hoshina? Is that you in the vent?"

Soshiro Hoshina swore he had shit his pants.

[wilwheaton]

hello mr wil wheaton when you were my age (like exactly i think) you were filming stand by me

I turned 13 during production, so if you're about to become a teenager, I hope you'll let me offer some thoughts that I wish an adult had shared with me, then?

I know this is a wall of text, and giving someone this much of your attention is a HUGE ask. Maybe bookmark this for another time, if you're not into hearing an old man talk.

I wrote this a few days before I turned 50. Thank you in advance for listening, and I wish you a life filled with joy, unconditional love, kindness, and adventure.

Hey everyone! An old man is talking!

In seven days, I will be 50 years-old. This is ... weird. I do not feel the way I expected I would feel when I was approaching 50, nor do any of my friends. The only time I feel like I'm middle-aged is when my body does some bullshit that takes me down for hours because I had the nerve to stand up quickly. And I really hate it when I have to use the flashlight on my phone to see a menu. I mean, at that point, I may as well be dropping my pants for free and singing the Old Gray Mare.

Anyway. This has been on my mind for a little bit, so I had something to say when someone used my tumblr ask me thingy earlier this week:

Q: I hope I'm as cool as you when I'm 49. I'd like to think I'm taking the right steps towards that version of myself. A: So I'm not sure I'm cool, but I do know that I don't suck, and that it's a choice I make every day. I desperately wish someone in my family had told me, or shown me by example, that getting older doesn't mean getting stupid and boring and stuffy and extremely uncool. I wish I'd known that, because I spent all of my life until I was in my 40s feeling like there was this day coming very soon when I would have to stop listening to punk, stop playing video games, put on a suit, and start yelling at kids for no good reason. I didn't know that you don't have to suddenly stop being who you are and become something or someone you hate, just because of a certain age. I know that's super obvious, but to young me, it was not. My dad was an asshole, my mom never showed up for me. Directors and people on set had been treating me like a thing for my entire life. I got yelled at for no reason from adults who knew better almost every day. Most of my elementary school teachers were authoritarian, evangelical assholes. All of these different adults, consistently, shut me down and made me feel like I didn't matter, the things I liked were stupid, and my opinions were invalid because of reasons I didn't understand because I was a dumb kid. So I presumed that when you got to be a certain age, that's what happened. I didn't want to be that, at all, and I was sincerely afraid of the day it would happen. But as I got older, I discovered that all that stuff I hated about adults doesn't automatically happen. Those adults I just mentioned all made a choice to be an asshole. I just didn't know it. I was in my early 20s when I did a movie with a cinematographer who was, I think, 45 at the time. He was the coolest, kindest, most artistic dude I'd ever known. He mentored me and we had epic fun making great art together. I remember telling him, "I'm not afraid of being in my 40s like I used to be. I didn't know you could still be cool." It's sad, that I grew up in such a toxic environment, and didn't know any of these things. So, 9 days before I turn 50, here are a couple things I have figured out: You know who sucks when they hit 49 and 50? People who sucked when they were 20 and never grew up. You know who is an asshole at 49 and 50? Yep. Someone who was an asshole as a kid and never experienced consequences for being an asshole. Hitting middle age has been awesome for me. Other than the aging of my body and its reluctance / refusal to do what I want it to do, I love everything about it. I wish I hadn't spent so much of my life being afraid that, when I hit 50, it was all over. Because honestly it's kind of just starting. The coolest stuff in my life to date has all happened in the last ten years, and I'm so grateful that it coincided with me figuring out a lot of shit so I could enjoy it.

The best part of getting older, by several thousand light years, is the part where we figure out how to stop putting up with other people's bullshit, and we contract our social circle until it's only populated with a VERY few people who deserve us. And I am incredibly grateful for these occasional opportunities to be a 49 year-old dad who can say all the things that would have been reassuring for 19 year-old me to hear (he wouldn't have understood, but 29 year-old me would have remembered, and he would have understood. I think.) I sincerely hope someone hears it and finds it helpful. Anyway, you're gonna be fine. Just remember that being cool, kind, honest, honorable, reliable, listening and showing up … they are all choices. If you want to be cool when you're 49, make the choice and set the example for someone to follow you. Treat kids the way you wanted to be treated when you were young. Listen to them when they offer you the privilege, because that means they trust you, and you have credibility with them. Be a mentor. Be supportive. Show up. Make a choice to be the person you need in the world, and never stop being that person. Start today, and when you're nearing 50 like I am, hopefully you'll remember who you needed right now, so you can be that person to someone else in the future. You're already asking the right questions and taking the first steps. I believe in you. You've got this.

Okay, if you've come this far, perhaps you'll follow me a little bit more, and read a thing I wrote about talking to students just a tiny bit older than you, which contains my core values.

Be honest. I’m a very old man, relative to y’all, and I’ve learned that the only currency that really matters in this world is the truth.

Be honorable. This dovetails with number one. You attract to yourself what you put into the world. Dishonorable people will take everything from you and leave you with nothing. Do your best to be a person they aren’t attracted to.

Work hard. I don’t mean, like, at your crappy minimum wage job you hate. I mean do the hard work that makes relationships work, that gets you ahead in your education, that gets you closer to your goals. Everything worth doing is hard. Everything worth doing requires hard work. Sooner or later, you’re going to run into something in your life that’s really hard, and you’ll want to give up, but it’s something you care so much about, you’ll do whatever you can to achieve it. It’s going to be hard, but it’s going to be less hard for someone who has practiced doing the hard things all along, than it is for someone who doesn’t know how to do the hard work because they’ve always chosen the easy path.

Always do your best. Even if you don’t get the result you wanted, doing your best — which will vary from day to day, moment to moment — is all you can ever do. We tell athletes to leave it all on the field. Whatever your version of that is, do it.

This is the most important one. This is the one I hope you’ll all hear and embrace. This is the one I hope you’ll share with your peers: Always be kind.”

When I read number 5, I looked up at them. I was so happy to see a classroom filled with teenagers who were all listening intently, even the ones I thought had tuned me out. “Here’s the thing about being Kind, versus being Nice,” I said. “I have interacted with lots of nice people who are incredibly unkind. Why is that? How do you choose to be nice but not kind?”

I pointed to my head. “This is where nice comes from,” I said. Then, I put my hand over my heart. “This is where kind comes from.” I put my hands out, like, “get it?”

There was this collective gasp of realization that I did not expect, at all. One kid said “Oh damn!” I saw a few kids look at each other like the trick had just been explained to them. They heard me. They really, really heard me. And it was amazing.

Okay, that's all. If you're still here, thank you for giving me so much of your time and attention. I hope you'll come back in a few years, and let me know how you're doing.

[donutz]

Sebastian Solace x mute & transgender! reader

It's your first time meeting Sebastian, though.. Your kind soul warms his cold heart

— Sebastian doesn't have that much of a cold heart though so Idk where I was going with that one

Warning: Stitches and needles; Mentions of gashes; Sebastian warms up pretty quickly, I don't like it that much but hey🤷‍♀️; "Signing, looks, like, this".; There's tension, not sure if it's sexual but there's tension;

Speed walking through the halls, you constantly looked around you. Anxious for another monster to pop up. Especially those Squiddles… When it came to even darker rooms you jogged through, hating it when you had to search for a keycard.

You were injured, not too bad. Just a gash in your thigh.

*Good thing it couldn’t chop off anything..*

*I wish it got chopped off.*

It’s hard to breathe or really walk anywhere with your binding(If you do bind). After that ‘minor’ injury, you searched through the drawers and lockers, looking for a medkit. Since you found a flashlight earlier, it might be possible to find a medkit.

You look up at the door number, slightly aching your eyes. Immediately looking down at the ground, you repeat what you saw in your head.

‘Door 48’.

It hurts to blink, to walk. Limping your way into the next room. Expecting anything, except a flying vent grille.

“Got something for ya, come here”.

You jump, yipping in your head. You look around for any flashing lights or peering bright green eyes. Maybe even a squiddle? No, none of them.

“C’monnn, I got good things for you, my own shop.”

You physically quivered. Walking over to the vent, and exhaling while crawling through the tight space. Your wound opening up more.

Reaching the end of the vent, you look around, not seeing much. Until a comforting light turns on.

“Welcome, welcome”!

You jump. Bumping your head against the metal vent.

“Oh… You alright?”

Sebastian wasn’t sure why he said that. He just met you! Worrying about a human… Ridiculous.

You shake your head in response. Bumping your head hurt more than it normally would. You’re stressed, hurt, and scared. Not a great combo.

You look at him, signing, “You,speak, sign, language?”

Sebastian’s eyebrows(?) rose.

“Oh! Um”..

“No”. He accidentally signs.

You tilt your head, confused. 

“You.. Don’t”??

He lightly slaps his face. Realizing he said the wrong thing.

“No I do, kind of”.

“I, just, signed, the, wrong, thing”. He sighs.

You show a surprised look on your face. Though it’s not very visible through your darkened visor. You smile, happy that someone could finally understand you. Even if they weren’t really human.

“I’ll talk, though. If that’s.. Nevermind, my name is Sebastian.”

You finally crawl out of the vent, more comfortable now that you know he’s more kind than any other monster down here. Looking around it seems like this small area is a shop.

Oh wait, he said that earlier.

“If I’m correct, you’re… Instructors told you to grab a crystal and secure loose assets. Well as a trade, you give me the data and I give you useful items. It seems like you need a healing tool for that… Gash”.

It seems like you forgot all about that. Maybe it was because you were too focused on Sebastian.

“Well I do have a medkit for that, just 250 research will do the trick.”

Opening your bag, you check how much you have. Your bag pops up a holographic screen of the amount of data you’ve collected.

Around 1755 data.. That’s more than enough.

You walk over to his tail, picking up the medkit and setting it on the ground to collect the right amount of data for it. Maybe even adding an extra tip to give to Sebastian.

You hand him 300 research, smiling because of your appreciation for his kindness. He counts how much there are, his mouth scrunching from confusion.

“Hey— you.. Gave me extra. It’s only 250—”

“I, know”.

“I, just, wanted, to, give, you, extra. Because, of, how, kind, you’ve, been, to, me”.

It was as if your face was glowing within your gear. You’re a very kind human.

“... Why thank you”. But this isn’t a trick right? Urbanshade isn’t trying to make me all soft?

I’m not sure if I can trust this one.

You buy the flash beacon next, giving him the correct amount. Now you only have 1205 research left. Standing up, you hear a pop in your knees from crouching.

Sebastian visibly cringes from that sound, he isn’t very used to that sound. Not anymore.

Peering at the table, you spot a document. Sebastian looks away from you, looking at the light meters high.

You look at him, and he looks back at you. Side eyeing.

“Who’s, document, is, this”?

“That document is mine.. Urbanshade makes documents on every creature or prisoner they have. They probably even have one on you”.

You look back at the document, pondering.

“Is, this, for, sale”?

“Yes, for 1000 research of course”.

You’re surprised at that large amount of ‘money’, but it is reasonable. It’s not like you would want anybody reading a document about you for a small amount. Especially if you’re more of a private person.

“I’ll, buy, it”.

Sebastian’s mouth lightly gapes, “You really have that much”?

You giggle, nodding at him, finding his surprised look funny. You hand over the data, while Sebastian smiles. Mainly because he can use this against Urbanshade, but also because of you. You’re not really like any other human he’s seen or heard of. 

You’re a kind soul.

“I’ll have that ready for you when you’re at the surface”.

Smiling even wider, you step, putting a bit too much pressure on your right leg, causing a sharp pain to shoot throughout it.

You whimper, stepping closer to the wall to sit down. Right near the vent.

“Oh my, you really need that fixed don’t you”?

Nodding, you sigh.

“Do, you, know, how, to, stitch”?

He’s taken aback, it’s not like he thought you knew how to stitch an injury or something. It’s just because he might have to get close. Close to a human.

“I-.. Yes. I do”. He stuttered.

You notice his visible discomfort and worriedly sign, “You, don’t, have, to, if, you, don’t, want, to. I, see, that, you’ve, gone, through, enough, already”.

“When, it, comes, to, humans.” 

He gasps, staying silent as he takes in what you signed. Yes, he has been through enough when it comes through humans.

But you’re different.

“No it’s fine r-really! I’ll stitch it up for you”. He's still not sure why he's acting like this.

He bends down to your height, being careful with his tail. He’d let you rest against it but… Maybe that’s too far.

A few seconds later, he has the smaller needles and thread carefully sat  between his larger claws.

It’s quiet, minus the low ringing of the lights, and the slight swoosh of the fan.

“Okay uhm.. Deep.. Breaths…”

Inhale

He sticks the small needle through your skin, flinching at the feeling. Though it wasn’t too bad.. Just a hard pinch.

Exhaleee….

You might as well fall asleep because of the earlier adrenaline. And god. That hurt. Nevermind a hard pinch, that felt like getting— Ughh. I don’t even want to describe it.

You throw your head back looking up at the heightened ceiling.

… Do you think that’s where Sebastian crawled from?

Like maybe in a vent or something..?

… Sorry—

Pinch!

You grab his sleeve.

“I’m sorry alright! I don’t mean to—” He looks at you. Letting out a sigh.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. I’m just…” He inhaled.

Looking at him, “Stressed”? You signed.

Scrunching his eyes, glad you know what he’s feeling. 

Exhaling, “Yeah. Stressed”.

“It’s, okay. I, don’t, mind. I’m, not, the, one, stitching, after, all”. You let out a small laugh. So does he.

“.. Thank you”.

He loops through 3 more times, just one more loop left. During the three loops, you were holding his hand. Warming it up, warm blooded and cold blooded.

Literally and mentally.

“Alright just one more left and we’re done”.

Finally.

Going through the last loop, he tightens the stitches, holding your hand tighter now that he’s finishes his work.

You observe it, astonished at the fine service.

Looking up at him, smiling, you sign, “Thank, you”.

“S, E, B, A, S, T, I, A, N”.

“You’re.. Welcome”...

You slowly start to lose your vision, falling to your right, which leads to Sebastian catching your body with his tail.

“O- Oh”...

I did a different writing style on purpose, I think. Idk I wanted to sound like a professional writer on A03.

[rangerbarbz]

First Time

Author’s Note: Y’all i am so sorry it’s been so long since i posted a fic. I am a junior in college and i have two jobs so i have been so busy. However expect some more stories now that it’s winter break! Hope everyone is having some happy holidays 🫶🏼

Summary: Reader and Ford go all the way for the first time together

It was a chilly night in Gravity Falls, Oregon when Stanford Pines and you decided to make some cookies. It was the perfect atmosphere for baking: comfy clothes, the temperature had dropped down, and the sun dipped behind the woods surrounding the Mystery Shack. The rest of the Pines family had went on an excursion to break into the theatre for a free movie, so you can’t imagine they would be back anytime soon.

Ford and you were in the kitchen trying to figure out what to make with the few ingredients you had available.

“Hmmm… So I’m seeing cinnamon here,” you said, looking into a cabinet next to the fridge. “I’m not seeing much else. What do you think about Snickerdoodles?” You grinned excitedly and faced Ford who was already smiling.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice resonating in you. God, his voice was so attractive. You remember hearing him talk for the first time in the library where you worked and your heart just melting.

He was in the fantasty section talking to himself when you walked by the aisle to reshelf a book. He was in the same area where the book needed to be relocated. Turns out you were holding the novella he was wanting to read, and you two struck up a conversation. He was kind and smelled delightful. You were too shy to ask him for his number, but a young girl who came into the library once a week for a crocheting club set you up on a date. You were unaware at the time this young girl was his great niece. The rest is history.

“Do you think everyone else will like them? I want to make sure these won’t go to waste,” you asked, scrunching your eyebrows together.

Ford scoffed as he was scraping flour from a measuring cup back into the bag. “Please, those things will be devoured. You have nothing to worry about.”

You laughed softly, standing up on your tip toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Glad to hear that.” A small smile spread across his face.

While you two prepared the ingredients and mixed everything together, you filled Ford in on the workplace drama. He would never admit it, but he loved to gossip with you.

“I can’t believe Denise would do that,” he said in disbelief, shaking his head. “I mean who does she think she is?” You rolled the last ball of cookie dough in cinnamon and sugar before pressing it into the pan.

“Right?! Like come on, now. I thought we were civilized.” Ford chuckled at your comment and put the cookies in the oven.

“Some people just never learn.” He snaked his arm around your waist and put a hand on your hip, bringing you closer to him. You placed your hand on his broad back and leaned your head on his chest.

“We got about 25 minutes until these are done. Wanna see what’s on TV?” you suggested, looking up at him. He cocked his head to the side.

“Sure. I think that’s enough time to get through half an episode of ‘Ghost Harassers.’”

“Ah, man. Dipper’s got you hooked doesn’t he?” You giggled and began to walk into the living room, him following suit.

Ford sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. I know it’s fake, but their reactions to these so-called ghosts are so funny.” He sat down on the recliner while you fiddled with the TV antenna to get it to the right channel.

It finally flickered to a group of men with flashlights running through an abandoned house screaming. “Ah! Got it!” you exclaimed. You ran over to Ford and sat on his lap. Your legs draped over his, feet hanging over the armrest. This time he kissed your cheek, his stubble tickling your face.

“Good job, dear,” he murmured in your ear. Butterflies formed in your stomach from hearing his low voice.

“Thanks, baby.” You leaned your head on his shoulder as one of his arms cradled you. He was so strong; you always felt protected by him. One hand was splayed across your stomach while the other was on your knee.

You were so engrossed in the show you didn’t notice Ford wasn’t paying a lick of attention. You were wearing loose shorts which exposed much of your legs, and he was entranced.

You lifted your head up to look at him, eyes drifting over your thighs. His hand remained still on your knee, however.

“Stanford?” You had a mischievous smile on your face.

He quickly looked over at you like he had just been caught doing something wrong. Since the lights were still on, you could see the blush spread across his face.

“Something catch your eye?” you teased, inching your face closer to his.

“I-uh. My apologies. I was distracted.” He cleared his throat and returned his eyes to the TV. Oh, so he was going to play dumb? You were going to drag it out of him.

“M-hmm. What was distracting you?” You egged on. He glanced over at you and back to the TV.

“Your, um, legs. They just looked very nice.” Ford answered quietly, avoiding eye contact with you. It was so cute to see Ford get flustered.

You had kissed and hugged, but never went much further than that. It was hard to find alone time, and Ford could be hesitant about showing affection. This didn’t bother you, though. You were willing to wait how ever long you needed to for him. He had been through a lot, so it’s reasonable for him to want to take things slow and gain trust.

“Ford, you can touch my legs if you want,” you reassured him, placing a hand on his. “Do whatever you want. I don’t mind.” You gave him soft kiss on his lips and cupped his face in your hands. Your fingers slid through his silver hair and down the nape of his neck.

He sighed into your mouth and you felt his hand slowly creep up your leg. His other was on the small of your back. His hand began to slowly travel up and down your leg, stopping to squeeze every now and then as you continued the kiss.

God, he was being so gentle with you and all you can think about is ripping his clothes off.

You shifted your body so you were straddling him without breaking contact with his lips. His hands started to squeeze your thighs a little harder, his thumbs rubbing your inner thighs.

You whined a little against his lips. You could feel his lips turn into a smile. You decided to deepen the kiss by opening your mouth and sliding your tongue along his lips. You felt him shiver as he welcomed you. What started as an innocent kiss began to turn into a make-out sesh. His hands had moved to your hips and were gripping them. Not tightly enough to hurt you, but enough to feel oh so good.

You broke away from the kiss when you heard the oven timer go off. “Dammit, cookies,” you joked, getting up from Ford’s lap. “Don’t move. I’ll be back for you, handsome.” You quickly pecked his nose and made your way into the kitchen. The Snickerdoodles smelled delicious as you pulled them out of the oven. You placed the pan on the stove top not wanting to damage the kitchen table from the heat. You removed your oven mitts from your hand and placed them back in the drawer where they came from.

“Cookies are done! Just-“ You were cut off by Ford scooping you into his arms and carrying you to his room. You were giggling uncontrollably all the way there feeling like a bride on her honeymoon.

He pushed open his bedroom door and gently placed you on his bed. He sat beside you, his eyes staring earnestly into yours. He took your hands into his, fingers intertwining perfectly together.

“Y/N, I’ve been thinking,” he started. “I am tired of dancing around these feelings I have for you. I want to be completely vulnerable.”

You were a little worried as to what he was about to tell you.

“I’m in love with you. I love everything about you, and I know in my heart this is deeper than surface level admiration. And…if you’ll let me. I want to show you just how much I love you.”

Tears started to well up in your eyes. You lifted your hand into his and began to plant kisses on each of his knuckles. “Oh, Stanford. I would be honoured, but are you sure you want to move forward like that? I know you like to take things slow.”

He shook his head and smiled at you while using his thumb to wipe away the tear falling down your cheek. “I’m totally sure. I was holding back my affections for you because I was scared. I’ve never felt this strongly for someone before, and I didn’t want to make careless mistakes. Now all I want is you. If you’ll have me, that is.”

You grinned and nodded your head eagerly. “Yes, please.” His face was pink perhaps from the whirlwind of emotions you both were experiencing.

He leaned forward his hands holding your face now. His movements were more sure than they had ever been before. You laid on your back, letting him take charge.

Your innocent kiss quickly turned rampant, exploring each other’s mouths. Your hands gripping his broad shoulders and moving through his hair once again. His elbows were on either side of your head, his breath becoming more ragged. His lips moved from yours to kiss down your neck. You moaned into his ear as sucked on a spot in the dip of your collarbones. There was sure to be a hickey there in the morning, but you didn’t mind. There was something erotic about having a mark from him.

Ford kissed down the other side of your neck, leaving yet another sign he was there on your collarbone. His mouth went to your ear to whisper, “May I take off your shirt?”

“Yes,” you hissed. That was all he needed. His fingers tugged the hem of your oversized shirt and pulled it over your head. You weren’t wearing a bra which had Ford somewhat short-circuiting. His eyes drank you in, eyes trying to capture your beauty permanently in his mind. He stared for so long you had become a tad insecure, so you crossed your arms over your breasts.

“No, no,” he moved your arms away quickly. “I’m sorry, dear. You’re just so…beautiful.” You felt your face heat up. His eyes were just so full of adoration, and it made you nervous.

“Thank you,” you replied softly. He smiled gently and started to kiss down your chest. They were as soft as feathers. He then kneaded at your breasts, letting out a sharp exhale. His calloused hands felt wonderful against you. His thumb caressed your nipple before he put it in his mouth. You yelped at the contact. His tongue swirled around your aerola as his other hand pinched your hard nipple between his fingers.

“F-Ford,” you breathed, your hands gripping his hair. He had began to suck at your nipple and repeated the same actions to your other breast.

He continued to move down your body, leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach. He got to your loose shorts and looked at you as to ask for permission. You nodded, your face becoming hotter.

Ford’s eyes glinted with lust as he looked into your eyes. “You know, I loved the way you said my name. Can’t wait to hear you say it more.” You could barely register how smooth that line was before he was removing your pajama bottoms. You didn’t wear underwear to bed so you were now completely exposed.

Ford sat up to look you up and down. His lips were parted slightly, and his hands gently rubbed your thighs. He looked at you in disbelief.

“Y/N, you are the most heavenly sight I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” Ford murmured. “You look like art.” His eyes had gazed down back to your now dripping core, but you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face. He sure knew how to worship his woman.

“But frankly, my dear, I’m about to be very disrespectful to you,” he mumbled, his lips kissing your inner thighs.

“Oh God,” you moaned. He was making his way to your center but taking his sweet time. Ford was a loving man. However, you could tell a primal part of him had been awakened.

His placed sweet kisses along your folds before flicking his tongue along your clit to tease you. You cried out in pleasure as he dove into you. He licked a stripe inside you and moved his tongue back and forth. You heard him moan deeply as he tasted you. Your brain was becoming foggy from how good everything felt and how he enjoyed pleasing you. Your thighs pressed against the side of his head; his hands were massaging your hips.

“Stanford, please. I want to feel you.” You needed him so bad. He lifted his head up from your thighs, slick covering his chin and lips. His hair was a ruffled mess. God, he looked good.

“Of course, sweetheart.” His finger rubbed along your entrance. He breathed heavy as he slid a finger into you. You let out a sharp inhale as you adjusted to him.

“Ford…”

“You feel so, so good.” Ford pumped his finger back and forth in you. Your eyes were closed and your legs had started to shake. “Fuck,” he said under his breath. Seeing you come apart underneath him was almost too much for Ford.

You had decided that he had done enough for you. It was time to return the favor. “Baby, baby. I wanna ride you.” Ford stopped and slowly removed himself from you.

“Are you sure?” he asked. I don’t mind-“ You pushed him down onto the bed and climbed on top of him. You grabbed his face and kissed him passionately.

You separated from the kiss to see his eyes wide and a tinge of pink on his cheeks. “Take off your shirt,” you demanded. He quickly removed his loose red shirt to reveal a toned, yet scarred body. You had actually seen him shirtless before accidentally when he came out of the shower in just a towel so this wasn’t a shock. You found it incredibly attractive. Although, it took lots of convincing for him to believe you.

You ran your hands over his chest and kissed him once more. “You’re so sexy, Stanford,” you whispered to him before biting his earlobe. You spastically kissed him all over his body, letting your hands now roam over his muscular arms. You couldn’t tell it by looking at him, but he was packing some heat under those sweaters. You were also grinding down on his painfully erect dick which caused him to whimper.

Ford sat up and held you close to him as you fumbled with pulling down his sweatpants. He sprang free and you lowered yourself onto him. He let out a guttural moan as he felt your walls tighten around him. His forehead was against your shoulder while you bounced up and down on him. His strong hands had grabbed onto your ass, his fingers pressing into the tended flesh.

“Y/N…Oh my…” You held his face in your hands, making him look you in the eyes while you fucked him. He had a loving look; you had an animalistic one.

“I’m… Not going to last much longer, darling,” he said between breaths.

“Me neither baby.” It was the truth. He already almost had you with his finger, but now that his length was inside you, you didn’t stand a chance. Your legs had started twitching and you threw your head back, allowing Ford to assault your neck further. His arms were now wrapped around you as you came insanely hard. You thought you were gonna see stars. It only took a couple more seconds for him to fill you up. His chest heaved up and down as he collapsed on his bed with you on top of him.

“That was…wonderful,” he sighed, placing a kiss against your temple.

“Agreed, but I think we need a shower after that,” you suggested.

Ford raised one of his eyebrows at you. “Round two?”

You laughed and smacked his shoulder. “Oh you bet.”

P.S. I didn’t look over this so if you see a typo or bad grammar no you didn’t

[chrisdr3]

Walk you home ~ OP81

TW: possible SA, blood, violence

Summary: Y/n is approached by a creep and someone she never expected helps her get away.

Monaco wasn't so lovely and safe at night. The cold summer breeze was getting to you through your jacket. You were walking home at a slow pace, returning from an exhausting day at work. Not wanting to waste time and energy walking, you took a detour through smaller, darker roads than following the main avenue.

You took a really dark one, between two of the biggest apartment complexes, that led one block behind your house. It was a really dark and long street, scaring you a bit. You opened your phone flashlight just in case and continued walking slowly, but carefully.

After a bit, you heard a strange sound, but convinced yourself that it was just a cat. Further into the street, you started having a strange feeling, like someone or something was staring at you.

You tried to ignore it as you were reaching the end of the street, reaching to light and people, and most importantly, your house. A few meters for the end, something grabbed your arm. You turned around slowly, only to see a creep gripping you with too much strength, making it impossible for you to escape.

He was a middle aged man, brunette, average height and a weird spark on his eyes. "Where are you going, pretty girl? It's so late to be walking by yourself. Come with me." He started dragging you with him by your arm, whilst you tried to kick his balls and screamed for help. He muffled you with his other hand, covering your screams. "Shh, be a good girl and don't scream or else-"

He suddenly stopped talking, his hands left your body and you heard him wincing in pain. The next moment, he was laying on the floor unconscious, a pool of blood escaping from his broken nose. A tall, pale, brown - haired boy was hovering over him, his fist covered in blood.

You stood completely stunned, not knowing how to react. The man cleaned his fist and approached you slowly, coming in the light. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" He asked. "No, I was lucky." "Yeah." He stuck his hand out to shake yours. "I'm Oscar-"

His sentence was cut off by you hugging him. "Piastri, I know you." You continued. "Thank you." All this was scary enough to make some tears escape your eyes. He rubbed your back hesitantly, trying to calm you down. "You're an F1 fan, huh?" He spoke. "Yeah..." "Great." There was an awkward silence. "Do you want me to walk you home?" He asked, breaking the deafening silence. "Please." You mumbled.

You walked to your house together, learning stuff about eachother on the way there. When you finally arrived, you exchanged numbers "just in case you need help or someone to have a drink with" as he said, you kissed his cheek as a thank you and he watched you get in your apartment, ensuring you'd be okay, and then headed to his own house.

[sinnersweets]

DogDay x Reader part 7

<-----part 6, part 8——>

Start of a new week which meant time for me to bathe DogDay. Oh, right and it’s my birthday today. I would normally request to have my birthday off, but I’d rather go to work and spend it with DogDay and Damian. I got ready for the day and made my way over to the factory. 

--------------- 

To make sure I wouldn’t trip over anything like last time I turned on my flashlight. Since I knew where to go now I started to make my way to the washroom to prepare everything for DogDay. As I opened the door I was greeted by Bobby. “Hi Y/N.” Boy she couldn't sound any more fake. “Morning Bobby.” It looked like she was going to say something else to me but then her face completely changed as she said, “Good morning DogDay~” I turned and looked to see that DogDay was in fact heading towards us; and it looked like there was something all over his body. “Good morning BB and a special good morning to my Angel.” Immediate blushing. “What makes it a special morning for her?” Bobby asked with a hint of poison in her tone. “Well BB it’s Angel's birthday today which makes it a very special day.” As DogDay got closer to us I could now see what was on his body. Paint. A lot of paint. “Good morning DogDay. What happened? You’re covered in paint.” Paint would take much longer to get off him. “I can’t tell you that Angel, it’ll ruin the surprise.” He smirked at me. Is it getting hot in here? 

I cleared my throat before saying, “Well I’m excited to see the surprise but let’s go get you washed up.” DogDay nodded and kindly asked Bobby to move out of the way. “Oh of course, please head right in~” As we walked past her I couldn’t help but glare at her. What was she up to? 

--------------- 

“So, when do I get to see this surprise of yours?” “Later Angel, not till after your shift probably.” Dang. That’s twelve hours I must wait. “Sorry I got a little messy.” “A little? If this was a cartoon someone would think that you’re sick with all these different colors on you.” I nudged him lightly while laughing. We made it to his room and unlike last time DogDay seemed a bit calmer. “Alright mister you know the drill; strip yourself of your pendant while I find my apron.” “Haha yes ma’am.” He saluted me before removing his sun pendant.  

When I walked over to where my apron was I started to smell a familiar scent. It smelled like vanilla but mixed in when something. I tied on my apron and walked over to where DogDays shampoo scent bottle was. “What’s wrong Angel?” “Your shampoo smells different.” DogDay made his way over to me and I held up the shampoo bottle to him so that he could get a better sniff. “Smells like vanilla and-” He took another sniff before saying, “Rose?” Rose? In an instant it clicked. Bobby. She mixed in her shampoo with his. Great. “Looks like Bobby wants you to smell like her.” DogDay made a puzzled face. “I wonder why.” I closed the bottle and set it down by the trashcan. No way am I putting that scent on him. “Is there another vanilla scented bottle in here?” DogDay shook his head no while saying, “Afraid not Angel.” His ears then perked up. “Oh! But there should be an extra one down in the storage closet from here.” “Great, I’ll be right back.” As I left the room I heard DogDay say, “Hurry back to me Angel!” 

--------------- 

I found the storage closet after looking aimlessly around for four minutes. There were a lot of storage closest but none of them had his shampoo. I grabbed his shampoo and turned around to head back to him when I accidentally bumped into someone. “Ah! Sorry.” “Easy there Angel.” Oh you have got to be kidding me. I put a fake smile on my face before saying, “KickenChicken, I wasn’t expecting to run into you.” “I was hoping I’d run into you down here. BB told me that it’s your birthday today. Happy birthday.” I thanked him and started to walk away but he grabbed onto my arm to stop me. “What’s the rush Angel? Don’t you want to spend your birthday with the coolest Smiling Critter?” I yanked my arm away from him while saying, “Don’t call me that and yes I do which is why I’m trying to head back to him right now.” The look on KickenChickens face was priceless. I dashed away before he could say anything else to me. 

--------------- 

“Angel!” I shut the door behind me and walked over to DogDay. “Did you miss me?” I said playfully. “100%. Did you miss me?” he asked as his tail began to wag. “I did. Sorry to take so long; there were a lot of storage closets and none of them seemed to have your shampoo and then I ran into KickenChicken-” “KC? What did he want?” His tone shifted slightly. “He just wished me a happy birthday and then grabbed onto me and asked if I-” “He grabbed you?” I was starting to sense some tension. DogDay walked over to me and asked me where he grabbed me. I pointed to my wrist, and he took my hand into his paw and kissed where KickenChicken grabbed me. “Mwah, now you have my kiss there Angel.”  

I was starting to feel hot again. “Is it hot in here? Are you hot? I mean you are hot I-I mean-” DogDays eyes grew wide along with his smile. “You think I’m hot Angel?” If I could die now that would be great. “Um-well-” I looked down at the ground to avoid eye contact and on my shoe was a spider. “AH! SPIDER!! GET IT OFF GET IT OFF!!” I started shaking my leg but then ended up jumping onto DogDay. “Woah hey easy Angel, I got you.” I was shaking in his arms. “Is it gone?” I asked while I buried my head in his chest. DogDay then started to laugh. “Angel it wasn’t a spider, it was just some lint.” I sighed in relief and calmed down. “Oh thank goodness.” I pulled back to look at DogDay and then I saw that I was also covered in paint. “Oops.” “Oops indeed Angel, looks like I’ll need to clean you off.” I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying my birthday so far. 

--------------- 

It took me two hours to get DogDay all cleaned up while it only took him three minutes to get the paint off me. We headed back into Playcare to start the day. Since we had the play to put on all learning activities would be put on hold. Those who got casted had to be inside the theater room while those who weren’t were inside the school making the props and other stuff. 

The first day of practice was a table reading of the script. Everyone sat down at their assigned seats except for KickenChicken. He was supposed to sit over by Hoppy but instead sat down in DogDays spot. “Pardon me KC, but you’re in my spot.” “Am I? I didn’t even realize.” I saw a twitch from DogDays eyes. “Oh and would you look at that, I get to sit next to the beauty herself! How nice.” KickenChicken rested his elbow on the table while looking at me. DogDay started to growl but I stood up and took his paw. “Hey Hoppy, you don’t mind coming over here and having our spots do you?” I gave her a pleading look. “Not at all birthday girl.” She grabbed onto hers and KickenChickens name plates and hopped over to us. “Don’t let this bird brain ruin your day.” She whispered and smiled at me. I thanked her and grabbed mine and DogDays names and walked over to the other side of the table. 

We both sat down and I looked over to Damian and waved hello to him. He waved back before grabbing a tissue and blowing his nose into it. Poor kid looked sick. I was going to head over to him to see how he was feeling but then I heard Miss Delights voice. “Alright everyone! Time to get started!” I’d have to check on him after we finished. 

--------------- 

Table reading went alright....to say the least. KickenChicken kept trying to change up some stuff that way me and him could interact more than me and DogDay. Once we finished I went over to Damian to check up on him. “Hey kiddo, you doing alright.” He blew his nose before saying, “Hi Miss Y/N. I think I might have a cold or something. Oh here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “A gift for your birthday.” I took it and opened the piece of paper. It was another drawing of me and Damian. My heart instantly melted when I read what was above the drawing. ‘Mom + Me.’ I pulled Damian into a hug and felt some tears fall down my face. “Thank you, Damian. I’ll cherish this forever.” Damian sneezed while saying, “You’re welcome.” I took his hand into mine and started walking towards DogDay.  

I noticed that Bobby was now in the theater room talking to DogDay. Oh joy. “Hi Mr. DogDay, hi miss Bear.” Damian caught their attention. “Hi Damian.” “Hey there Damian; and a good afternoon to you pretty lady.” DogDay pretended to tip a hat towards me. I laughed at his playfulness and did a little curtsey. “I don’t mean to interrupt but I just wanted to tell you that I’ll be taking Damian over to the infirmary.” “Oh? Is someone not feeling well? You better move along now and dont worry Y/N-” Bobby then linked her arm around DogDays arm before continuing, “I’ll take good care of him while your away.” I just watched as DogDay had an unpleasant look on his face before trying to pry Bobby off of him. “You need me to come with you Angel?” Right as I was going to answer Bobby cut me off. “No! I-I mean I need to get your measurements for your costume DogDay.” “I guess I’ll meet you later then Angel.” Even though Bobby had her arm around his I still walked up to him and gave him a hug. He returned my hug and squeezed me tight. “I’ll see you later Dogday.” “Bye Angel. Feel better Damian.” I pulled away and headed for the exit. “Bye Y/N!” I heard Bobby call out from behind me. She sounded so happy that I was tempted to show her my favorite finger, but I didn’t and continued to walk hand in hand with Damian.  

--------------- 

The doctor said he just has a little fever and should feel better by tomorrow. I sighed in relief and thanked Damian again before letting him get some rest. Once I exited Home Sweet Home, I saw DogDay standing at the bottom of the steps. “Hey Angel! How’s Damian doing?” “He just has a little fever. Doctor said he’ll be fine tomorrow.” I took out the drawing Damian did and showed it to DogDay. “Look what he drew for me. Isn’t that sweet?” DogDay smiled and wagged his tail.  

“That is very sweet Angel! He sees you as a mom. Hey, why not adopt him?" I think I got whiplash from how fast I looked up at DogDay. “Huh?! Adopt him??” “Why not Angel? You two seem so found of each other.” I laughed nervously before talking back. “Well yes, but- I mean- I don’t know...” I only just turned 21 today and I’m sure there would be a lot of paperwork to fill out and other legal stuff. “He’s a great kid, really but-” I couldn’t get anything else to come out of my mouth. “It’s alright Angel you don’t need to say anything else.” He patted me on the back. “Since we don’t have anything else planned for today why not head home early Angel?” “Really?” I didn’t want to leave yet. “Mhm, in fact you should head home right now. I already got your things.” He picked me up and started caring me to the cable car. “Wait- what about the surprise?!” “Oh don’t worry Angel, you’ll still see it.”  

We made it to the cable car and he set me down. I turned to look at him with a sad look on my face. “Believe me Angel, I would love to spend more time with you, but I don’t want you to miss your surprise.” He handed me my stuff and kissed the top of my head. “See you tomorrow, Angel.” “Bye....” I was stunned. I walked into the cable car and sat down as the doors had closed. As I was travaling up I stood up and went to the window and waved goodbye to DogDay. We both waved goodbye until we couldn’t see each other anymore. 

--------------- 

I made it back home and plopped down on my bed. I closed my eyes and sighed before opening my eyes and saying, “Wait...I didn’t see his surprise?!” I sighed in disappointment. Oh well, I could always see it tomorrow. I turned on my phone and saw that it was almost 8 o’ clock. I reached over for my TV remote and turned on the TV. I’m a kid at heart so when Damian told me that a certain channel shows all of the Smiling Critters cartoons, I knew I had to record them. Since I’m home around the time that they showed, I didn’t need to record this one.  

The intro started to play out and I smiled and sang along with it. Once the intro finished a little message appeared on screen. I got closer and looked at what it said. “To my Angel." I read out loud. I was confused for a second before it faded away and the cartoon version of DogDay appeared on screen. “Hey Angel, I hope you’re at home watching this now. You’re probably thinking that you missed your surprise but in fact you’re watching it right now!” My jaw was opened as DogDay continued to talk. He...he had an episode made for me....... 

I watched the episode play out and the whole time I couldn’t stop smiling. “And now it’s time to sing you happy birthday!” Out of nowhere a birthday cake showed up on screen. It had one candle in the center and was already lit. “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Happy birthday my sweet Angel, happy birthday to you~” I felt a tear forming in my eye. “Blow out your candle Angel.” DogDay then held the cake closer to the screen. I laughed and acted like I blew out the candle. In the cartoon the flame disappeared. “I hope your wish comes true Angel.” The screen then faded black, signaling that the episode was over. I grabbed my remote and rewind the episode so that I could tape it. Best birthday ever.  

A/N: DogDay just purposely got paint on him so that he and you could be together longer >:)

[666anxiety666]

sup dude, saw your post and i saw you‘re also in the roblox pressure fandom

how abouuuuuut you maybe write a (platonic!!!!) tickle fic between Sebastian and reader?

y‘know the flash bang gun? or maybe when you keep going back and forth through his shop, he gets mad? yeah, maybe write about the reader just annoying him too much

or headcanons about Sebastian

up to ya!

YES! I JUST ADDED THAT TO MY LIST! 💙 I'll also probably do headcanons at some point! 🙏

Don't. Do that. Again.

Sebastian x gender neutral reader

LEE: Y/n LER: Sebastian

Warnings: none :)

♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎

You jumped into the locker quickly, just seconds before angler pasted you. You sigh shakily, quickly jump out of the locker. Already feeling the panic of being inside for too long, starting to set in.

You stumbled along the rest of the room, opening the door to room 50. You didn't even bother to check the drawers as you walked. Determined as ever to get this nightmare of a trip over and done with.

Suddenly, a vent bursts open. You jumped back, ready to defend yourself if needed.

"Psst! In here!"

A voice is heard coming from inside. You sighed. You know the drill by now. You crawl inside, only to be met by the one and only Sebastian.

"Ah! The one who can't seem to keep their coffin shut, huh?"

Sebastian said in an almost mocking tone. You roll your eyes. Already looking around the shop for supplies. You had barely picked up anything from the last 50 rooms. Only having a code breacher and a shitty and crank flashlight on your person.

"Jeez Y/n, you look rough."

Sebastian said mockingly. But he was right. You looked down at the contents on Sebastian's tail, instantly grabbing the medkit.

"I didn't think you'd be this bad still. I mean, you've died what? 40 times now?"

Sebastian commented with a grin. You looked up at him. Rolling your eyes once again as you feel the medkit started to take effect. You were already getting sick of him. It would take a while for you to be somewhat okay to head back out there. That means being stuck in here with *him* while you waited. great.

You sat down on a box, kicking your legs absentmindedly as you looked at the floor. Sebastian didn't say anything else, much to your relief. He just sighed, going through files and data.

You sighed as well, already bored as hell. You look around the shop. Glancing at the raido, the batteries on the table. But then, you spot a flash beacon on a shelf. Despite doing this over and over, you never really picked up one of these on any runs.

You fiddled around with it. Examining it from top to bottom. It still had batteries in it. You sighed again. just as you thought. It was useless. You were about to place it back on the shelve. When you dropped it. The flash beacon fell to the floor, landing in its side facing Sebastian, and it went off.

The room lit up. Sebastian's eyes widened before he quickly covered them, dropping the files he was looking at. You felt your heart drop right to your stomach.

Sebastian uncovered his eyes. Growling as he reached out and grabbed you. His massive hand wrapped right around you, trapping your arms at your sides. Your breathing started getting heavier as Sebastian leaned in closer with a growl.

"Don't. Do that. Again."

Sebastian snarled. You squeezed your eyes shut. Expecting to be thrown to the floor or even killed. It was an accident. You didn't mean for the beacon to go off! You waited, and waited, but nothing came. You slowly but hesitantly opened your eyes. You were still trapped in Sebastian's grip. But now Sebastian was chuckling.

"Jeez, you should have seen your face!"

He cackled. You blinked a few times. Still a little shaken up. Sebastian looked back down at you, still keeping you in his grasp.

"Oh, come on, buddy. *Lighten* up a little...~"

Sebastian teased. That was definitely meant to be a pun. Sebastian squeezed you lightly as he spoke. However, one of his claws dug into your side as he did so.

You jumped slightly. Your breath hitching as you let out a small noise, almost like a squeak. Trying to hold back any laughter that bubbled in your throat.

Sebastian paused for a moment. He blinked, a little worry seeping in, thinking that he had hurt You. But when he saw the look on your face. He grinned. Oh no...

"Oh... I see now..."

Sebastian chuckled, showing off his sharp teeth. He didn't even give you time to react or process before he reached out with his other clawed hand. Instantly digging into your side.

You sqeaked. Wriggling in his grasp as you giggled. Sebastian grinned his clawed hand, squeezing and raking up and down your side.

"What? Do you think I can let you go after flashing that thing at me like that? Not a chance, buddy~"

Sebastian grinned. You could already feel the heat rising to your cheeks. But you could deal with this. It's not like it could get any worse-

Sebastian moved his clawed hand to your tummy, raking his claws along it. You squealed louder, now kicking your legs desperately. It got so much worse!

"Jeez, you're so squirmy..."

Sebastian chuckled. He reached his third hand out. Squeezing just above your knee. Your squeals and giggles only got more high-pitched as it felt like little tickly electric shocks ran through your body.

"So squeaky too... what an odd place to be ticklish..."

Sebastian commented slyly. Keeping at the squeezing on your knee, the hand on your tummy now poking your belly button. Your face was bright red by this point. You didn't know if it was the tickles or the teasing that caused it. But right now, you didn't care as you squirmed and kicked. Your high-pitched giggles filling the shop.

His clawed hand moved down from your tummy to where your sides and hips met. Your eyes widened as he dug his clawed hand right in there. You squealed louder. Kicking your legs harder. You could feel the ends of your ears turning pink.

"What's wrong, squeaky? Does it tickle?~"

Sebastian teased grumbly. His voice getting lower at the end of his sentence. Your face burned red as you tried to squirm and kick. But he still had his hand on your damn knee, squeezing it everytime you kicked. You shook your head, the only thing you could really move. Sebastian smirked.

"No? Hm... well then..."

Sebastian pretended to think for a moment. His eyes lighting up with an idea. You didn't even have time to ask questions or speak before he leaned down, blowing a massive raspberry right on your tummy.

Your eyes widened as you burst into a fit of belly laughter. You struggled, trying to pull your arms out of his grasp to push his head away, but it was no use. Sebastian grinned against your tummy, blowing another raspberry.

It felt like it went on forever. You kicking and squealing. Your laughter filling the shop, Sebastian teasing you to know end. However, you started getting restless, and Sebastian decided he'd give *some* mercy and finally stopped. Leaving you panting and still giggling in his grasp. Sebastian chuckled down at you.

"There, there... that should teach you not to touch things you dont know..."

Sebastian smirked. Yet he didn't put you down, yet freed your arms. You looked up at Sebastian as you caught your breath, still giggling slightly as you half-heartedly glared at him. Sebastian chuckled. A little more fondly, patting your head.

"Your good, right?"

Sebastian asked. He tried to hide the concern in his voice but failed miserablely. You smiled slightly, nodding your head. Sebastian smiled a little too, averting his gaze from yours.

"Good..."

He paused.

"You'll still need to heal up though. You can stay in here and rest while you wait, or whatever..."

Sebastian mumbled. Moving you onto the floor, wrapping his massive tail around you gently. You blinked. He didn't meet your gaze. He looked almost embarrassed at his own actions.

"Just shut up and sleep or something..."

Sebastian grumbled. Picking up more files to distract himself. You smiled slightly, resting you back against his tail. You yawn, only now realising how tired you actually are. You looked up at Sebastian one more time as you got comfortable. Maybe Sebastian wasn't as bad as you thought. You looked up at him one final time before closing your eyes.

"Thanks, Sebastian..."

♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎

DONE! I loved writing this! Definitely got me back into things! Also, it feels a little refreshing to take a break from writing about the mandela catalogue as much as I love it. 😅

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Let It Snow

Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Fandom: MCU

Summary: When the power goes out at the Facility, Pietro makes sure you’re keeping warm.

Note: Takes place in an “Everybody is alive and lives at the Avengers Facility” AU. Wanted to kick out one more Christmas/Winter imagine before getting into the New Year’s stuff.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 1.5k

Reader Is: Gender Neutral, an Avenger.

To be honest, you didn’t notice it at first, the slight chill in the air. You continued your work, typing away on the loud, typewriter-style keyboard on the fancy, expensive computer Bruce had built for you (with Tony’s money, of course).

And then it got…worse.

Your toes were numb and you were shivering, despite the long sleeves you were wearing.

You slid your feet into some slippers and walked out into the hallway, arms huddled around yourself as you wandered from your room, down the hall to where the thermostat was. You gave the up button a cursory press, waiting for the screen to blink to life and tell you what it was set to, but it didn’t.

Huh. Well, that was something, wasn’t it?

“(Y/N). Hello.” Vision materialized beside you, causing you to jolt in shock. “My apologies, I did not mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine, Vision. Do you know what this is all about?” You asked, shivering and motioning to the busted thermostat.

“It appears the furnace is broken. Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner are attempting repairs now, but it may take quite some time.”

“Oh. Gotcha.” You nodded, “Thanks for the info.”

“Of course. I do recommend you bundle up. It seems your body temperature is steadily decreasing.”

“Will do.” You saluted and pivoted on your heel, just in time to catch a face full of Pietro as he sped down the hall, sliding to a stop.

You ever so gracefully fell on the floor, staring up at him, disgruntled. “Nice one, Sonic.”

He chuckled, offering a hand, but you got up on your own, dusting yourself off. “What is the problem?”

“Furnace is busted.” You explained, patting his arm as you began walking away.

Pietro started walking backwards, keeping pace with you. “Where are you going?”

“To get into something warmer. Might be a while.”

One of his eyebrows quirked up. “Well, you know, I’ve heard skin to skin contact is the fastest way to warm up, if you need some help with that. I do have ‘improved homeostasis,’ as Banner puts it.”

“I’m good, thanks.” You deadpanned, shutting your door in his face. You could feel him lingering there for a moment before running back down the hall to his room, you presumed. You chuckled and rolled your eyes. Pietro was a flirt. Always had been. But things like this never worked out with people like him. Not in your experience, at least.

You changed into a cozy, zip-up onesie, feeling a lot warmer than before, especially with the hood over your head. You got back to your tying for a while. A few hours at least…until the lights went out.

“Great!” You threw your hands up, rolling away from the desk in your dark room.

In a huff, you stood up and walked to your window. It was a blizzard out there, inches and inches of snow on the ground. There was a knock on the door and whirled around to answer it. Part of you expected it to be Pietro standing there, but instead, it was Steve with a flashlight.

“Oh, hey. Is this because of the blizzard?”

“No, Tony says he snipped the wrong wire.” Steve shook his head. “Or something. Might be a while before it gets fixed.”

It was already getting late, and you were planning on going to sleep soon, but now, you weren’t so sure you should if you didn’t want to wake up a popsicle. “Okay, thanks for letting me know.”

You said, turning back to grab your phone and your water bottle to refill it before you figured out exactly what it was you should do in the meantime.

***

About an hour later, Pietro found you on the couch in the living room, shivering and reading a book by the light of a tiny, battery powered reading light. You were bundled up and, due to the lack of windows, you were pretty sure it was the warmest room in the facility. But as the temperature continued to drop, it didn’t seem to matter where you were.

“(Y/N), what are you doing in here?” He said, concern etched deep into his accented words. You met his eyes, wrought with worry and only offered a shaking shrug.

“I don’t want to g-go to sleep until the h-heat comes back on.”

He shook his head, crossing the room slowly for once, taking his time with each step. He sat beside you, not even bundled up beyond a hoodie and some sweatpants. For the first time in your life, you envied his powers. Carefully, giving you every opportunity to shove him off of you, he gently lifted your blanket, guided your book to the coffee table, and crawled on top of you, settling his body atop yours and sandwiching you between himself and the couch. He pulled the blanket back on top of the both of you, adjusting his head into the crook of your neck.

You were stiff at first, but at his warmth, you all but melted, eyes closing in bliss, your arms relaxing around him as you chased that feeling. His warmth. His scent, that sharp, woodsy cologne he was so infatuated with.

“Is this alright?” He asked, voice low and raspy.

You nodded, relaxing further into his hold, letting him warm you up. You pulled him closer, relishing in the feeling of your shivers slowly stopping. “Pietro…”

“I won’t say anything. The others don’t have to know.” He assured you, meeting your eyes before settling down again.

“I’m not too worried about that.” You whispered, suddenly overcome by it all. His proximity, his voice, the way his body felt melded against yours. It was right, what they said. Fitting like puzzle pieces.

“You’re not?” He asked, mischief at the edge of his tone. “Who are you and what have you done with (Y/N)?”

You scoffed. “You know, contrary to popular belief, I don’t dislike you, Pietro.”

“I don’t dislike you either.” He replied with a chuckle. “Kind of the opposite, in fact.”

Your heart picked up a quicker rhythm, cheeks flushing. You were kind of thankful the two of you were cuddled up in the dark. You hoped nightvision wasn’t one of his secret powers, or you were sure you’d never see the end of it.

“Please say something.” He murmured at the silence.

“You…”

“I thought it was obvious.” He muttered, words quick, flat at the edges.

You let another moment pass, choosing your words.

“I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to—”

You touched his face with a cold hand, guiding his chin so you could attempt to look him in the eyes in the silvery rays of light streaming in the window. “I like you, too.”

He grinned, breath catching in his throat. “You mean it?”

“I have for a while.” You confessed. “Since that first training session when you bulldozed me on the track.”

“I did not bulldoze you!”

“I don’t know, I felt pretty bulldozed, laying there, flat on my back, feet knocked out from under me.”

He chuckled. “I was trying to impress you.”

“Mission accomplished.” You laughed at the way frustration crept into his words. “I could never forget about it. My very first week on the team and already, someone was out to get me.”

“Oh my God.” He rolled his eyes, the words sounding unsure on his tongue. He shook his head, gaze softening as he reached up, a careful hand brushing the hair out of your face. “Are you warmer now, drága?”

“Much.” You nodded, brushing the tip of your nose against his. “I do have another idea for warming up, though…”

He smirked. “Such as?”

“Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Please do.”

You rolled your eyes, and looped an arm around his neck, tugging him down to you and crushing your lips to his. He hummed in agreement, calloused fingers hooking your jaw, keeping you close as his kissed you tenderly, passionately, lips soft and perfect and experienced. He was the perfect distraction from the freezing room around you.

Then, suddenly, there was a loud thrum and the power kicked back on, bathing the room in light. You squinted, the appliances in the kitchen all beeping as they came back to life.

Pietro shielded his eyes with a hand, still hovering over you. You stared up at him for a long, quiet moment, still not entirely sure it had happened until he dipped back down and pressed a long kiss to your cheek, his stubble tickling your skin.

“Now let’s get you to bed, hmm?” He asked, helping you off of the couch as the facility gradually warmed back up. The two of you walked down the hall together and you yawned.

“What were you two doing down there?” Bucky asked, standing in his doorway. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“I was just letting (Y/N) know the heat was back on.” Pietro shrugged. “I am the quickest, you know.”

“Uh-huh. Right.” Bucky nodded, suspicious, but backing away into his room anyway.

You got to your door and stopped in the doorway, turning to look at Pietro. His hand grabbed at your waist, tugging you in for a kiss that you gladly returned. When you parted, you watched him speed down the hall, hoping that when you woke, it wouldn’t all be some sweet, winter dream.

[cakesunflower]

lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 1

Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family's restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn't see coming--one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn't sure they'll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.

Author's Note: I forgot how much I absolutely loathe writing summaries LOL but anyways! First chapter is here, let me know if y'all vibe with it. I had fun writing it and if you wanna see more, let me know! (And now I have to figure out if I remember linking everything on my blog since I haven't posted my writing on Tumblr in forever. . .)

Chapter 1

“Oh, no. No, no, no. Don’t do this to me, please.”

Isla Carrera’s pleading is in vain as the engine of her car sputters out of life, and there’s just enough juice left for her to pull over onto the side of the dirt road so she’s not stranded in the middle. Her grip on the steering wheel remains tight as she sits in silence, staring out onto the dark road only lit up by the two beams of her headlights. The small silver lining, if there is one, is that she knows exactly where she is, just a little ways away from a row of houses on Figure Eight. But right now, she’s surrounded by trees on a road that has no street lamps, the sky a blanket of black above her. 

Her groan cuts through the silence, eyes squeezing shut as she rests her forehead against the steering wheel. She should have just slept over at John B’s house like her sister, Kie, decided to. But Isla’s covering another waitress at the restaurant early tomorrow, and she didn’t want to run late again or else her parents would rip her a new one. Kie’s shift wasn’t until later in the afternoon, so her sister was in no rush to get home. Now here Isla is, with a car that won’t turn over, still a fifteen minute drive away from her house.

“Fucking great,” she mutters, making sure her hazards are on and her phone is in her pocket before getting out of the car. 

Though she knows nothing about cars, Isla pops open the hood and uses the flashlight on her phone. If she’s being honest, it all looks like a bunch of mechanical junk she has no idea how to work her way around. She’s not sure why she even bothers, so instead of wasting time, she unlocks her phone to find the number for a towing service.

A rumble of a car engine catches her attention, the kind that makes an annoying popping sound, and by the time she looks up and around the open top of her hood, she sees two guys hopping out of an old Ford truck. She vaguely recognizes them. Just by the look of them, they seem to be a couple of years older than her—and clearly from The Cut. Not that it matters, since her best friends are from the other side of the island, but not all of the people from The Cut are fond of those from Figure Eight, and vice versa. Isla and her sister, though they belong on the more privileged side of the island, prefer the freedom of The Cut. 

None of that exactly matters right now, though.

Music cranks out of the car, but Isla can’t pay it any mind as unease creeps into her stomach when both sets of eyes land on her. 

She’s a girl alone in the middle of a road at night, so Isla is immediately on high alert as the guys make their way towards her, slow but confident in a way that makes her feel like a prey. I don’t like this. 

Alarm bells are ringing in her head as one of the guys in cargo shorts and a tank top shoots her a slimy grin. “Car trouble, sweetheart?”

Isla’s muscles tense. Yeah, nope. Not good. “Uh, no, all good,” she says, forcing some of that confidence into her voice that Kie is an expert at wielding. 

The other one with darker hair hidden under a baseball cap asks, “You sure we can’t help?” His grin is anything but charming. “We’d be more than happy to help.”

They don’t stop their approach, and Isla’s mind begins running through different scenarios, her pulse beginning to quicken in panic she’s trying to keep at bay. There’s no one around to help, and she can’t depend on another car passing by and stopping to help—if they even would. She doesn’t want to lock herself in her car while she calls her dad or friends for help; the idea of sitting trapped makes her heart squeeze with dread.

“You can stop right there.” She doesn’t want to give into the fear that’s slithering through her veins, but she can’t stop the words from escaping her mouth, the crunch of the dirt beneath their shoes too daunting to ignore. 

Her hand inches towards her back pocket where she had stashed her keys, fingers closing around the small can of pepper spray she’s got hooked in there. Isla has never had the unfortunate opportunity to use it before, but the vibes she’s getting right now—first time for everything. 

“What’s the matter?” the first guy asks with a taunting tilt of his head, neither of them stopping their pace. “We’re only here to help.”

Yeah, fucking right. “Stop.” Her heart is pounding in her ears, taking a few steps back.

Creepy guy number two exchanges a look with number one. “See that, Dyl? Little Miss Kook looks a little scared.”

Oh, screw this. Isla refuses to stick around and find out what’s going to happen, and she doesn’t at all feel guilty when she juts her hand forward and presses down on the top of the small can. Her aim is a little off, so she only manages to spray the first guy—Dyl. The sound of his shriek of pain cuts through the air, and he stumbles back and spits out curses as he presses the heels of his palms into his eyes.

The second guy freezes in surprise, looking between Isla and his friend, but she doesn’t stick around to see what he’s going to do next. Instead, Isla turns and makes a run for it, making sure to press the button on her FOB to lock her car as she bolts down the dirt road. She can hear the guys yelling over the sound of the breeze rushing past her ears, fear fueling more power to her legs as she nears a neighborhood street at the end of the dirt road. Isla isn’t sure if they’re following her, or if they’re even going to, but she doesn’t pause to find out. 

She runs and runs, her lungs beginning to burn, as she rounds a stone wall with greenery growing through the cracks that closes in a property—only for her vision to go black for a split second when she collides against something.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Scratch that—make that someone, because instead of falling back on her ass, a strong pair of arms wrap around her waist to keep her from tumbling down. The grip is tight and secure, and a delicious aroma of what seems to be earthy wood tickles her nose. “What the hell are you—Isla?”

The sound of her name being spoken in that all too familiar voice clears Isla’s head, and she pulls back enough to look up into the startling blue eyes of Rafe Cameron. Her pounding heart seems to slow down a fraction, and she’s not sure what to make of the mild relief that calms down her frazzled nerves because this is Rafe Cameron. Sure, he might not be as bad as those two freaks, and he’s one of her close friends’ brothers, but he’s still the same guy that has gotten into more than a few fights with her best friends. That being said, she shouldn’t find as much comfort as she does being in front of him. 

Her breathing is heavy, pulse throbbing uncontrollably. She only barely registers her hands gripping his forearms, like it’s grounding her as she takes in Rafe’s expression. His eyebrows are furrowed together as he looks down at her, his height towering over her five-foot five frame, and there’s more confusion than worry in his features, unsurprisingly. Her heavy breathy makes her privy to the scent of nicotine, glancing down to see a half used cigarette now laying forgotten on the ground. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Rafe repeats. Isla hears the familiar thread of annoyance in his voice, but she can’t bring herself to give a damn. 

She lets go of him like he’s electrocuted her, taking a step back and forcing him to let go of her, too. It takes everything in her not to acknowledge the way her skin burns where his had touched hers. “Going for a run, what does it look like?” she snaps back, though her voice trembles on her breath. 

Rafe’s expression deadpans, though he arches an eyebrow under the dirty blonde bangs that frame his forehead. “Looks like you’re scared,” he states. 

“I—” Isla gets cut off by the familiar sound of a car engine rumbling, the popping kind, and the breath locks in her throat as she glances over her shoulder. “Fuck,” she breathlessly mutters, catching sight of the headlights creeping up from around the corner on the road. She’s not sure if those guys are looking for her—though, she wouldn’t be surprised given that she pepper sprayed one of them, and her pulse quickens again in panic with the need to hide away.

“Wait—are you running from someone?” Rafe questions, and Isla looks back at him to see his gaze pointed over her head, right where the noise of the car is coming from. A car that sounds to be approaching too close.

“You’re asking too many questions,” Isla returns hastily, stepping to go around him. “I need to go—”

Rafe lets out an exasperated huff, and if she had all her wits about her, she’d snap at him. But instead, surprise slams through her when Rafe’s hand wraps around her bicep, his grip firm but not tight as he mutters, “Come here.”

Before Isla knows it, she’s being dragged through the gate of the Cameron estate, disappearing onto the property right when the car turns the corner. Her heart launches to her throat when Rafe suddenly turns her, and she’s being pressed against the stone wall, soft leaves pressing to her back in contrast to the hard surface.

Isla’s eyes widen when Rafe’s body presses against her, the air rushing out of her lungs as her gaze snaps up to meet his. “What are you doing?” she asks, her words a mere breath.

He seems surprised by his own actions, lips pursed and that muscle in his clean shaven jaw pulsing almost as quickly as her own heart. Can he hear the thundering, feel it? “Just—stay quiet,” Rafe grits.

Part of Isla wants to push him off—the part that sounds a lot like her friends. But fear wins out, keeping her in place, as she hears the car creep along in front of the gate of the Cameron property. 

Rafe’s eyes silently tell her to remain quiet and something tightens her stomach—something other than fear—and it startles her enough to flick her gaze to the left, towards the vine wrapped gate. She can see the headlights slowly passing by, and she prays that these guys aren’t stupid enough to trespass private property.

Then again, they were ready to do God-knows-what to her, so who the hell knows?

The thought alone sends her heartbeat accelerating all over again, panic settling in her bones hard enough to rattle them. Isla’s hands fist at her sides, eyes squeezing shut as she leans her head back against the wall. How the hell had her night taken such a freaky turn? And how is it that Rafe Cameron, of all people, is the one to help her out?

Suddenly, the mid-May night doesn’t feel as warm as Rafe’s body; he isn’t close enough where his body is completely pressing into hers, but she can feel the soft material of his shirt fluttering against the bare skin of her stomach, thanks to her crop top. Isla can feel the heat of his skin seeping into hers, which makes her heart thunder with something other than panic, and she’s not entirely sure what the hell to do with that.

“Relax—they’re gone.”

His voice is low and gruff, a tone that makes goosebumps pebble her skin even in this warm weather. Isla opens her eyes with a sharp exhale and her brown eyes immediately find Rafe’s blue, her throat tightening under his scrutinizing gaze. True, she can’t hear the engine anymore, the headlights are also gone, and Isla tries to even out her breathing while nodding slowly. 

Rafe’s eyes rake over her and shouldn’t she feel unsettled about that? About how close he’s standing to her? But it seems like all of her unease has been used up from evading those weirdos, so Rafe Cameron being her rescuer doesn’t annoy her as much as it normally would. 

“So what was that about?” he questions, raising an eyebrow.

Isla’s throat works, dragging her gaze back up at him. The lamps spaced out along the wall light his face, casting shadows along his sharp cheekbones. He’s so handsome—the thought crosses through her mind quickly, and though she would never admit it to her friends, she can’t help but find the truth in it—as insane as it might be.

“Nothing to concern yourself with,” Isla finds herself saying, lifting her chin in a small act of defiance.

The corner of Rafe’s mouth twitches into a ghost of a smirk, and through the light reflecting in his eyes, she can see them dancing in amusement. “Given that I just saved your ass, an explanation would be nice.”

Isla scowls, all thoughts of his stupidly good looks vanishing. “I didn’t ask you to do that. I had it under control.”

It’s a lie spoken through her teeth, and Rafe can see that. “Yeah, looked real under control when you were running for your life,” he replies dryly, eyebrows rising. But then his expression flattens out, eyebrows furrowing together once again as he says, “Seriously, Isla. What gives? What the hell was that about?”

“Just—some fucking weirdos, I don’t know,” she huffs, frustration from this entire ordeal bubbling to the surface as she rubs her hands up her face and runs her fingers through her hair. “I—Can you back up?” she asks hastily, forcing a glare. Rafe, surprisingly, simply presses his lips together and raises his hands in defense while taking a couple of steps away from her. Isla is no longer embraced by his warmth, by his scent, and there’s an unexpected tug in her chest that she ignores. “My car broke down on that dirt path behind the road. I was trying to figure it out when these guys pulled up and, I don’t know, shit got weird so I made a break for it.”

Rafe frowns as he listens to her, and Isla shakes her head, rubbing the back of her neck. “I need to get back to my car,” she says.

“Seriously?” Rafe asks, scoffing. “You’re gonna go back when some freaks are looking for you?”

Isla glares at him, not at all appreciating him talking to her like she’s stupid. “My wallet’s still in my car. I need to grab it if they haven’t fucking broken into my car already.”

She moves past him to head to the gate, surprised to hear his footsteps as he easily catches up to her. “What, you’re gonna walk back?” When Isla glances at Rafe, he’s looking at her like she’s insane. No sign of the contempt he normally saves for her and her friends, which is slightly unnerving. “After you were just running from some freaks? You do realize how much of a bad idea that is, right?”

She shrugs even as the unease from before returns at the idea of running into those guys again. “I need to get my wallet,” is her meek response.

Rafe lets out a breath, running his fingers through his hair and Isla briefly frowns at herself at the way her gaze seems to run to the flex of his bicep. And the way her stomach fucking flutters because this is Rafe Cameron. The only fluttering her stomach should be doing where he’s concerned is one tinged with nausea.

Rafe then fixes her with a stern look. “Come on,” he says firmly before walking down the driveway of his house.

Isla blinks out of whatever stupor she was in and glares at his back—and at the demand he left her with. She scoffs, hands splaying in annoyance until she realizes he’s headed straight for his motorcycle. Her shoulders drop, rooted on the spot as she says flatly, “You’re joking.”

Rafe is already pulling out a helmet—scratch that, two helmets—and looking at her, once again, like she’s an idiot while she glares at him. At least there’s that bit of normalcy. “This—” He holds up both helmets in each hand. “Is better than you walking back to your car by yourself. Let’s go.”

Isla’s disbelief only intensifies. She doesn’t walk over to him, doesn’t take the proffered helmet. Instead, she exhales sharply and crosses her arms over her chest, asking, “Why are you helping me?”

Rafe has the gall to look annoyed by her question, arms resting at his sides. His gaze locks with Isla’s, but she doesn’t shy away from it as he eventually drops his head back with a groan before looking back at her once more. “Listen, contrary to your and your friends’ popular belief, I’m not a complete dick.” Isla can’t help but scoff and roll her eyes, cutting her gaze away from him in doubt. He cannot be serious. “I wouldn’t want either of my sisters to be fucking chased by some losers, so just think of this as my good deed of the month, alright? Now will you please take the damn helmet and get on the bike?”

Frankly, Isla feels like she’s just stepped into an alternate reality because, seriously, when was the last time Rafe Cameron ever did anything nice for her—if ever?

But as much as Isla’s pride is begging for her to tell him thanks but no thanks and turn and walk back to her car, fear still resides in the pit of her belly, waiting to strike. She hates to admit it, but Rafe is right. It’d be dumb of her to walk back alone at night after what just happened. Maybe she could call her sister or one of her friends, but that would just add unnecessary time to all this, and Isla just really wants to get home. So, fine; maybe she can accept Rafe’s offer to drive her to her car, and then from there maybe she can call an Uber home and call a tow truck from the safety of her bedroom.

Rafe holds out one of the black helmets in impatience, and Isla purses her lips as she pushes herself to walk over. She does her best not to admire the sight of him next to his bike, something she never would have done before tonight. Maybe this whole freaky situation has loosened some screws in her brain.

Isla all but snatches the helmet out of his hand, though a part of her feels as though it’s just for appearances’ sake to keep up her usual attitude around Rafe, and tucks her dark hair behind her ears before pulling the helmet on, the visor still up. She tries her best not to think of the weight of his gaze on her as she fiddles with the straps on her chin to secure the helmet, but she’s unable to get it right, fingers trembling despite herself.

“I got it,” Rafe says, and Isla freezes when he gently bats her hands away and steps up to her, using his finger to push at the bottom of the helmet so she can tilt her head back enough for him to see the straps. The heat of his body greets her once more and she’s silent as she feels him secure the straps, breath hitching quietly when the backs of his fingers brush against her skin. 

He’s done within seconds, but it sure as shit feels longer as she remains standing there, watching him pull on his own helmet. Isla watches silently as Rafe gets on the bike, wondering how she got here, and he says, “Hop on.”

Isla has ridden on the back of JJ’s bike plenty of times, so she gets on with no trouble, though she does have to grip Rafe’s shoulders in order to do so. They’re broad and firm under her hands, and she mentally chastises herself for even thinking about his stupid shoulders. When she’s settled behind him, her legs framing his, Isla’s heartbeat picks up at the sudden proximity, her front against his back. 

She’s sure she’s barely breathing when her skin warms because there’s barely any space that exists between them, and when Rafe tells her, “Hold on or risk flying off,” she can’t decide if she wants to smack him upside the head or beg for the ground to swallow her whole.

Sliding the visor down, Isla inhales deeply and quietly before winding her arms around Rafe’s waist, teeth gritting together because if her friends saw her now, they definitely would believe she’s lost her mind. The fact of the matter is, right now all she can seem to focus on is the solidness of his stomach against her arms and how fucking good he smells, which is confusing and overwhelming and everything in between.

The motorcycle’s engine roars to life, and seconds later Rafe is kicking off the kick-stand and they’re riding down the driveway and onto the road. She had told him her car stopped on the dirt path behind the actual road, separated by trees, and that’s all Rafe seemingly needs to know as he takes them in the right direction. The breeze as they go feels good against her, cooling her heated skin down and she would never admit it, but riding on the back of Rafe Cameron’s bike has a somewhat calming effect on her.

The tension that had tightened her muscles since her encounter with those other guys melts away, and the rapid thumping of her heart has nothing to do with anxiety and everything to do with the thrill of this moment. Maybe it’s ill advised, but it seems to be exactly what she needs as the night air mixes with Rafe’s cologne—or maybe he just smells like that in general?

God, she’s getting too weird about this.

Soon enough, her car comes into view and Isla is relieved when there seems to be no sign of those guys. Rafe stops the bike right next to her car, and another sigh of relief escapes her when she sees that her car doesn’t look damaged. Swinging her leg over, she uses Rafe’s shoulders as leverage to get off the bike, trying not to think too much about the loss of his body heat as she reaches for the helmet straps. 

They’re easier to undo than they were to strap, and she lifts the helmet off, one hand already flattening her dark hair as Rafe holds his hand out for the helmet. As she unlocks the car, Rafe asks, “How’d you manage to outrun them?”

Isla leans into the driver’s seat, reaching for her tote bag in the passenger seat. She digs through it for a moment, taking stock of her wallet, lip gloss, lip balm, and the few other things still safely inside. “I pepper-sprayed one of them,” she answers as she pulls out and straightens. 

When she turns to look at Rafe, whose helmet’s visor is up, she sees the smirk that curls at his mouth. How does a sight that made her want to knee him in the stomach before make her feel kind of weak kneed right now? Did those guys really freak her out so much that now down is up and left is right? “Nice,” he murmurs, nodding in approval. Jutting his chin towards her car, he asks, “You gonna call a truck?”

Isla shakes her head. “When I get home,” she says, pulling out her phone. 

Rafe nods as he holds the helmet out once more. “Alright, let’s go.”

Isla pauses, gaze flicking up from her phone screen where the Uber app is open to look at him. Arching an eyebrow, she asks, “Uh, go where?”

He mirrors the arched eyebrow look. “I’ll take you home,” he says as if it’s obvious when it very much isn’t.

“No thanks. I can Uber,” she answers, already putting her home address in.

Rafe scoffs, shaking his head as he remains sitting on his bike. “You’re just full of bad ideas tonight, aren’t you?” he says. Isla’s eyes narrow, irritation sparking through her as he splays his arms out to gesture to the road they’re on. “You’re really gonna wait out here on a dirt road, with no street lamps, in the dark for an Uber when I’m offering you a ride home right now?” Before she can respond, he carries on, “On the same stretch of road, mind you, that you just got harassed on?”

The irritation intensifies, and Isla’s expression twists into a glare as she snaps, “What’s it to you, huh? You already did your good deed of the month. We’re not friends, Rafe. I don’t need your help.”

Even with the helmet on, she can tell he’s clenching his jaw, eyes hard as he sets them on her. The look makes her chest burn in a way that’s not all unwelcome, and that alone should be a sign that she’s losing it. “We may not be friends, but you’re my sister’s friend, alright? Sarah would kill me if she found out I left you out here by yourself. So stop being so fucking stubborn and get on the damn bike, Isla. I’m taking you home.”

She presses her tongue to her cheek, shoulders bunched in frustration while Rafe glares at her, his own impatience radiating off of him in waves. Sarah has told Isla how stubborn her brother can be, and while Isla doesn’t know Rafe well, she knows him and has dealt with him enough to know he isn’t budging on this. So, with a huff, she snatches the helmet once more, ignoring the protests in her head that sound suspiciously a lot like her friends as she pulls the helmet on. 

She manages to get the straps this time and gets back on the bike, her bag securely hanging off her shoulder as Rafe starts the bike again and Isla swallows silently as she wraps her arms around his waist once more. Every part of her is warm where it touches him, and as he drives, she tilts her head back, practically begging for anyone listening to get her to calm the hell down.

Seriously—how the hell did Rafe Cameron become her would-be hero of tonight?

Luckily, her house is a ten minute drive from the Cameron house and Isla allows him to pull up to the front of the house, since Kie isn’t home and has no chance of peeking out her bedroom window and seeing Isla getting off Rafe’s bike. He parks the bike and Isla lets go of him almost immediately, hopping off the bike and undoing the straps of the helmet under her chin.

Rafe is already looking at her by the time she gets the helmet off, his blue eyes visible since the visor is lifted. With a close mouthed, saccharine smile, Isla all but shoves the helmet into his hands. “Thanks for the ride. Let’s never do this again.”

He scoffs as he shakes his head, but the smirk on his face is apparent. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Isla rolls her eyes and, without another word, turns towards her house. She’s on the front porch and fishing keys out when she glances to the right and sees Rafe still parked there, seemingly watching her. Her stomach does a stupid, weird flip as she unlocks the door and shoos him. “Go away,” she hisses, even though Kiara isn’t home and her parents wouldn’t care that Rafe dropped her off—hell, her mom would be thrilled, honestly.

Even from this distance, she can just picture Rafe’s arrogant smirk as he lifts a hand in a two fingered salute before revving the engine of his bike, and Isla clenches her jaw as he speeds off, the roar echoing down the block. Exhaling sharply, Isla shakes her head and walks into her house, shutting the door behind her just as she hears footsteps approaching her.

“Where have you been?” her mom asks, not demanding but more concerned.

Isla smiles sheepishly as she faces her mother. “Yeah, about that. . .”

[zerobasekazuha]

“Shhh quiet we can’t get caught!”

Pairing: AMAB Venture x Fem reader

Warnings: Oral (fem giving) cursing

Genre: Fluff/Smut

A/N: So I came across this tweet in Twitter from the same user who inspired me to do the pizza person Venture. They have such amazing ideas and y’all should def follow the twitter @/staplesquid thank you for the ideas!!

Who told Sloan that this would be a great idea?Oh right, Y/n did. So how did they get stuck in this situation where they are body to body pressed against their best friend in between a very small alleyway with their hand over her mouth? And to top it off with police who are looking for them. Well it started earlier on that day..

Y/n was an artist. They used many different materials and techniques. Her art style changed ever so often. This point in time it was graffiti. She brought multiple cans in different colors. She researched spots in town and even asked around on online forums and eventually came across the perfect spot. However it was in one of the most crime ridden spots in the city. And with no other choice she contacted Sloan to come with her.

Sloan just finished in the shower their hair was dripping wet as the windows and the mirror was fogged up. They noticed their phone light up, quickly turning down the music they had blasting then right back up to the main volume. It was a text message. They took a quick glance at it only reading the words city and alone.

It alerted them and they quickly picked up their phone trying not to drop it in the toilet as well before opening it and reading over the text. They took a sigh of relief when they read the entire text. Y/n asked if they wanted to go to a certain part of the city together because she didn’t want to go alone. They quickly sent a text saying that they would and they would be finished getting ready.

Y/n told them to wear baggy clothing and that she had a gas mask for them. And soon enough there they were taking the number 67 bus down to the worst part of the city. They looked unsuspecting enough. Two people wearing baggy clothing, one with a larger tote bag and the other carrying yet a smaller one. Both however wearing black masks. Any normal person would think they were a couple. Eventually they got off at a stop down the street from where the location was.

It seemed to be a poverty stricken street. There were deteriorating homes and people sleeping outside. Depressing to look at. The streets were also a mess with all kinds of trash around. Sloane looked at Y/n and wondered why the hell she was bringing them out here. “So…Sketchy part of town…? Going to explain why we’re out here?” They asked not knowing what was even in her tote bag.

“You know how I mentioned I wanted to do something new with my art?” Y/n asked smiling at them. They nodded wondering what point she was getting at. “Well we’re going to do some graffiti.” She said quieter than before. Sloan was completely surprised. They didn’t expect this from her. Especially considering that graffiti was a crime in their city. They continued walking with Y/n with their heart pounding in their chest as it progressively seemed to get darker.

The two ended up at an abandoned subway. Ever since the city built new lines older ones like these got left behind to just deteriorate. Little did they know the cameras were still in tact. Walking past all the other pieces if art Y/n stopped them at a close enough blank canvas. She set down her tote bag and the cans seemed to clatter inside as she opened the zipper.

“Take this.” She tossed Sloan one of the gas masks. Making sure that they changed the masks in the dark so nobody could suspect the two. After she turned on the flashlight. Pointing it at the canvas. “So take a can and go nuts.”

They spent around an hour doing what they could all the different colors and layers. Eventually it was an outstanding piece of art that differed all the others there. While Sloan drew mini stick figures. Sloan stood back to admire the painting of what had been made. “You’re such a great artist! How did you ever think of that!?” Y/n smiled under her mask. “Oh just some inspiration.”

But their time to bask in the art was limited. They could hear police sirens in the background. Then footsteps and the sound of a radio got closer and closer. The two ran off, leaving behind the extra spray cans and the flashlight and only took the empty tote bags with them.

The police chased after the two not too close behind them but not to far as well. Sloan hadn’t felt the first rush of adrenaline in forever. They kept running and running turning corners and going any direction to loose them. Sloan then found an alleyway and pulled Y/n in there with them. Pressing their bodies right next to each other and with them covering her mouth.

And that’s how they got there. The two were slowing their breathing as the police walked down close to where they were. She almost began to panic. Sloan could feel it with how she was beginning to hyperventilate. Sloan leaned down to reach her ear. They whispered in it because the last thing they wanted was a felony for abstracting federal property. “Calm down. Hush be quiet before we get caught.” They said slowly but also almost sweet like honey.

Y/n listened to them fixing her breathing and just resting against them. But feeling how close Y/n was to them was so…addicting to them. Of course she’s sat on their lap before when needed but this was different. This was the worst time to be getting aroused but they almost couldn’t help it. They thought only for a split second how sexy it would be to do what they wanted there while also hiding out away from the police. Public indecency and defacing federal property didn’t sound like two terrible charges to them.

Sloan had to think straight. They shook their head as the gas mask rested against their neck. They must have taken it off when they ran. They were thinking about her, until she seemed to be moving against them. Knocking them out of their slight daydream. The friction Sloan was feeling made them clench their jaw just slightly. “What are you doing?!” They whispered trying not to enjoy how it felt.

“It’s just a tight squeeze. My legs are falling asleep.” She whispered back trying to get comfortable. The police footsteps getting closer. She stopped moving, feeling something rest against her. She looked back at Sloan in the darkness. “Really? Now?” She whispered to them. Sloan blushed trying not to look back at her.

“I can’t help it!” Sloan whispered. They covered her mouth once again as they heard the footsteps get closer. Walking right past them. She squirmed in front of them almost on purpose feeling how much harder them seemed to get. In Sloans mind they could only wonder what she was doing to them? Was this to tease them on purpose?

The police seemed to get only slightly farther before stopping and having a conversation. “Those damn kids. Those little fuckers do this all the time. We ain’t gonna catch one.” Said one of the officers kicking a rock into the distance. “Let’s go back to the station. They need to hurry up and demolish this piece of shit so we don’t have to keep going down here.” The other said. Eventually the footsteps and the radio chatter faded. And now it was only the two of them left.

Y/n managed to turn around to look at them. “Okay their gone we should-“ Sloan kissed her. One hand on her waist and the other on the wall to support them. Y/n was surprised but kissed them back. Once Sloan broke away they looked down at her, loosing all sense of rational thought. “No you don’t get to go just yet.”

“W-what but the cops-“ “I don’t care about the cops they’re gone now. You don’t get to do that and act all innocent.” “Do what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Very clear lie from Y/n. She knew she was lying. Something about seeing their best friend try to hold back from her is arousing to say the least. In her opinion.

“So how about I show you because you don’t know.” Sloan took her hand pressing it to the bulge that seemed to be proud in front of the cargo pants they wore. Y/n looked down at it then back up at them. “So what?” She asked almost hoping they would give her the green light to do something about it.

“Well genius, you dragged me out here, nearly got both of us a felony…a misdemeanor couldn’t hurt.” Y/n looked around it was dark, nobody would catch them but public indecency isn’t just a misdemeanor. “You mean us being put on a list?” “Oh right. Well it won’t happen if we don’t get caught. You just have to stay quiet.”

It didn’t take long for Sloan to kiss her again, this time much more passionate and deeper. Almost like they were yearning for her all this time without saying anything. But there was something else underlying in the kiss. It was hunger. Their hands first rested on her waist, however they could feel hers pulling them closer in the already cramped alleyway.

Sloan wasn’t even sure they could fully go through with anything here but anything is possible. They had to rush however, it was getting darker and darker and they wouldn’t want to miss the last bus that ran in this area. They could feel Y/n wrap her fingers around their belt loops, unbuttoning the front of their cargos and sliding it down their legs. Sloan almost was at a loss for words.

Feeling her hand palming their boxers made them sharply inhale, their head tilting back against the wall. They were too in bliss to realize that instead of her hand they felt her lips around the tip of their cock.

Each second that passed feeling Y/n take more of them down her throat, the saliva running down the side of her mouth as she looked up at them in the darkness. Sloan grabbed the top of her head squeezing her hair feeling each movement of her tongue on them.

Sloan bit their lip to prevent themselves from moaning. They didn’t want to make more noise than they were supposed to. They took sharp breath before looking down at her, their eyes almost showing how desperate they were. With each moment that passed the closer they got to their release. Almost like it was within grasp.

“Oh please I-I’m going to-“ Y/n pulled back using her hands as she heard Sloan. They couldn’t stop themselves as they came on her hands. They tried to catch their breath as she looked at the mess on her hands.

“So uh…again at my place?” Sloan asked as they walked out the abandoned station together, going back to the bus stop to wait for the next bus. “I don’t see why not.” She added smiling at them before the bus pulled up.

This came out extremely late but I had severe writers block and I had to use that time to do other hobbies. But it’s here like I said it would be!!

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Not your usual undead

Daryl Dixon x reader

Which undead do you choose? The ones outside, or the one in front of you?

So, @ghostboneswrites2 said she's more of a vampire girly and my head did something.

Every breath burned in your lungs, the cold air not helping your sweaty self in the slightest as you ran for your life through the woods. Groups of walkers came out of nowhere, like they were coordinated to surround your group that you now inconveniently lost.

You ran for god knows how long, starting when the sun was barely above the horizon.

It looked like almost midday now, having stopped behind a large tree and spotting a large factory like wall halfway built into the rock wall behind it.

Large, blacked out and barricaded windows covered the front of the place. A hiding space.

You could rest there, you had to get in. It took some time but you managed to get in and close up from the inside, ensuring no one would follow.

It was too dark inside, you could barely find the flashlight you kept in your bag.

You clicked it on and heard a groan, immediately turning the light towards the sound and drew your knife again. Another groan. You followed the sound to get to the walker that had probably gotten stuck somewhere, currently being on its last legs before entirely decaying.

After making your way around the dump of a hall you found the source of the noise laying face down in the bed of a partially stripped truck. You held your knife up, ready to climb in and strike when the softest “don’t” came from the body.

The flashlight whipped into the direction of the head and you got another groan in response. Moving the flashlight over the rest of the body you shoved it with your boot and turned it over.

It was a man. A dirty old man with ratty long hair and a scruffy beard. He wore faded black jeans and a thick, dark green flannel.

He had weapons on him, but nothing else. He looked like he was dying.

"Are you bit?" You didn't even know if you expected an answer, but he did respond with great difficulty. "Hunger.."

"Leave.." The downed man groaned with the most urgency he could summon. "Smell good.. W'na eatya.."

You backed up, almost tripping backwards off the truck bed. With the stagger of tour body the flashlight beam came across his face once more, the shine reflecting off his eyes like an animal's. "Gah, fuck!" His hand flew up to cover his eyes, leaving his mouth open and breathinf heavily. Fangs?

"Oh fuck." In shock you dropped your knife. "You're one of those redneck werewolves that lived near here." You stepped further back, crouching back on the edge of the bed now.

"The fuck didya call me?" With newfound strength he hauled himself up into a sitting position. "In all'a mah hundreds o'years I got called lots'a names but yer the first one ta offend me like tha.."

He scoffed where he sat. "Callin' me a filthy mutt. Should kill ya fer tha.." A loud cough wracked his entire body, leaning forward on his hands, heaving. His body needed something to survive, it was already starting to eat away at itself.

"Wait. You're not?" Curiosity got the best of you and you leaned closer, placing a hand down in front of you. Right where you had dropped your knife just now and cut your palm. You hissed in pain, pulling back in perfect harmony with the man's sudden lurch forward.

His eyes were wild, mouth hanging open as he licked his lips. His hand moved to your knife and picked it up, bringing it to his lips and licking your blood off it before tossing it aside.

"Hand." The hand that just tossed aside your knife was now asking for your bleeding palm. "Ya owe me after callin' me a dog."

The blood was running down your sleeve by now, it was so gross. He needed to eat, just like you. Except he couldn't feed on whatever he found he needed animals. Or people.. And you swore to never let another person starve if they hadn't harmed you or your loved ones.

You extended your shaking hand out to him, anxiety spiking when his face got closer.

His hands found your wrist and fingers before his tongue dragged over the cut, a low moan escaping him at the taste.

You were about to comment when he jerked your arm closer. You fell forward, hands on his thigh to keep you from faceplainting into his chest. His hand moved down your arm and his now way longer fangs sunk deep into your wrist.

You let out a cry at the initial contact but quickly felt the pain fade, only a dull pulling sensation with each soft suck of his lips around the wounds.

It didn't hurt. It wasn't so bad after all. Somehow it was kind of nice, and his flannel was so soft against your cheek..

God, all that running had seriously tired you out.

Sleep, what an amazing idea..

Hou hadn't even realised you had passed out until you woke up in the truck bed, an old blanket covering you and the flickering of flames just off to the side.

"Welcome back." The man's voice held a lot more energy now, he was up and walking around the place. "C'mere. Ya gotta eat sum'n."

With the fire burning you could take a better look around. Your coat was off, now laying flat over the blanket that covered you. The place looked like it used to be an auto garage. The second you slipped from underneath the blankets you were back to freezing, grabbing your coat and pulling it on. "Jesus, how aren't you cold?"

"Tha's the first thing yer askin' me?" He scoffed with a smile on his face. "Ya know the dead don't feel cold, right?"

The dead.. "Oh that's just my luck, huh." You found your way to the fire and sat down close to it, taking in its warmth. "I run from the undead, right into the fangs of another kind of undead."

"Least I get ta choose if I wanna turn ya with a bite. 'Cept if I do I lose ma food again." The man held out a skewered piece of meat out to you, but you were reluctant to take it. "S'jus rabbit." He lifted a furry skin up into view, showing you the little bunny ears before tossing it aside again. "Went 'n found somethin' ta get yer strenght up after I fed off ya so much."

Accepting the food with a thanks, you took a small bite and let out a hum at how good it tasted. "You know," you started, pointing at your new companion with your food. "I always thought vampires were pretty boys with sticks up their asses who seduced their bloodbag wifeys." You twirled the stick in his direction before taking another bite.

"First ya call me a dog, n' now yer comparin' me ta them shitty teen movie fakes?" He snapped at you in annoyance, his face held a look that clearly said he was regretting not entirely draining you earlier.

Your hands shot up in response, quickly going into defensive mode. "Hey, don't get me wrong. I am not a fan of those fancy schmancy dudes. No sir."

You laughed at yourself around a mouthful of food, thinking back to those horribly made romance movies. "I like your type more. Yeah, ugh those skinny fucks always looked like they'd whine if they got blood on their shirts, man."

You earned a laugh with that comment. "Yer sayin' ya prefer me snackin' on ya 'n bleedin' all over ya next time?" You almost choked on a piece of meat then. "I'm sorry what? Next? No. Huh?" You couldn't tell if the heat rising to your cheeks was from his words or the food you almost choked on now.

"C'mon, promise ta take jus' wha I need." He took thw second rabbit skewer from next to the fire and handed it to you. "I'll keep ya fed, ya keep me fed. S'a great deal."

"I don't even know your name, how about you share that first." You snatched the skewer from his hand and chowed it down in no time while staring at him in wait for his response.

"Name's Daryl. Got cursed durin' a stupid drug deal mah brother took me along for." He sighed and leaned back, turning to stretch his legs. "Now ya know ma name. Yer fine stickin' 'round now?"

You could only roll your eyes at him at that. "Alright you know what? I'll admit I prefer rhe company of your type of undead over those outise, and I bet my old group has all become part of those shitty undeads so yeah. I'll stick around."

A/N: I don't think I've ever written for vampires ever so I hope this is okay.

[chillinglyadventurous]

Spooktober Day 5 - “Was that a scream?"

You were down in Ford’s lab helping him with a new type of gadget that would be helpful in tracking anomalous activity when Dipper and Mabel had stormed into the lab. They wanted to the two of you to go monster hunting. Dipper had learned about a new cryptid called the Shadow Stalker. Ford had declined, but insisted that you go along with the kids, Wendy, and Soos. He had said it would be good for you to get some fresh air.

As you were leaving, Ford stopped you, grasping your wrist, “Call me if you need anything.” He pressed a small kiss to your temple, “That thing can get a bit wiley.” He placed a walkie talkie in your hand. “Go have fun. Be safe.”

Once night fell, the moon hung high in the sky over the dense canopy of pine trees. He fog was thick and the flashlights the gang was carrying barely cut through it. You were thankful for a cool night, unsure of how long you’d be out there or how far you would have to trudge deeper into he Gravity Falls forest. 

“So, what’s the plan again?” Wendy asked. Her voice was calm as always as she led the pack, cutting brush out of the way with her axe.

“We’re looking for the Shadow Stalker,” Dipper said matter-of-factly. He held up Journal 3 for you to see. Ford’s sketch of the thing was enough to send a chill up your spine. It was a large, humanoid creature with glowing red eyes. It almost reminded you of the hide-behind. “It’s been spotted in these woods for centuries. It’s drawn to sound and movement.

Your body stiffened, “Great.” 

Mabel gasped, startling you from her place to your right. You gripped her hand in yours to stop her from skipping ahead of the group, “Ohhhhh, spooky! I hope it’s friendly.” She reached ino her backpack and pulled out an extra sweater. She hugged it close to her chest. You knew she had knitted it that morning for this very occasion. It was made up of black yarn and the words ‘You go, Shadow Stalker!’ on the front, “Do you think i’ll like it, [Y/N]?”

“Of course, sweetie,” sure it would like it, if it didn’t eat you. You plucked the journal from Dipper’s hand, “Ford have anything in here about how dangerous this thing is?”

Dipper shrugged as he took the journal back from you, “Can’t be that bad if he let us go alone.”

You scoffed. You loved that man, but he had also given a twelve year old a crossbow before. He almost gotten his and Dipper’s brains devoured by an interdimensional math wizard. Needless to say, you immediately expected the worst. You squeezed the walkie talkie in your hand that wasn’t holding Mabel back.

One second, everything felt fine, but the next your flashlight went out. Wendy’s was next, then Soos. Finally, Dipper and Mabel’s flashlight gave out. The five of you stood in the darkened forest. You couldn’t see much in front of you despite the moon hanging overhead. You could make out the shape of the twins, reaching for both of their hands. You could see Soos’ silhouette creep closer to you before feeling his hand on your shoulder. Wendy moved closer too. 

“Oh, dudes,” Soos spoke up from right behind your ear, “not trying to freak anyone out, but the vibes of the place are way off right now.”

You nodded. The air was suddenly thick and you felt like you were being watched, “Yeah, I’m with Soos on this one. Something about this feel wrong-”

Before anyone could respond, you heard a loud crash of branches behind you. I was so loud that the five of you froze in place. Soos bumping into the back of you. You held your breath as you remembered Dipper’s words. It is attracted to sound and movement.

A loud screech filled the air then, the five of you huddled together in the middle of a moonlit clearing. Mabel hugged you around the waist. Even Dipper had clutched onto you tighter.

“Was that a scream?” Mabel whispered against your shirt.

You looked down at Dipper as he began to speak, his face pale with fear, “It didn’t sound like an animal.”

The eerie silence that followed was thick and oppressive, as if the forest itself was holding its breath. Every sound felt amplified—the rustling of leaves, the creak of branches in the wind, even the shallow breathing of your friends around you. You felt a cold bead of sweat form at the back of your neck.

“I don’t like this,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

Dipper flipped through the journal faster, scanning the pages, “This is exactly where the sightings have been reported. If that noise was the Shadow Stalker, we might be too close.”

“Too close for what, exactly?” Wendy frowns, pulling out her axe. 

Dipper swallows hard, “It’s said that once you hear its call, it’s already hunting you. We need to be still and quiet. Any noise, any movement, it’ll know.”

Mabel, usually the carefree one, took a step closer to you, her eyes wide. “What if we—”

Before she could finish, another crash, even louder this time, reverberated through the trees. The sound is followed by something far more chilling. A low, drawn-out growl, deep and prima echoed from all around you, making the little hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. 

“Dudes, that’s definitely not a squirrel,” Soos muttered, inching closer to you, Wendy, and the kids.

You could feel your heart racing, your pulse thundering in your ears. ‘Ford should be here,’ you cursed, but you didn’t  say it aloud. He should have known this would happen. Lord knows he knew everything and always made sure you knew he knew everything. He should have come with you. Wiley. Yeah, that was an understatement. Instead, you reach for your walkie talkie, the one lifeline you knew you can count on. Your fingers trembled as you turned it on, “Ford, do you copy? Over.”

A few seconds pass before you hear his voice on the other side, a flash of relief washing over you, “are you okay? What happened? Over.”

“We’re too close,” you whispered. Your voice was low, but urgent, “We think it’s here. We need you. Over.”

Another brief silence followed. The rustling behind you was getting closer. You could almost hear the gears in his mind turning, “Stay right where you are.” His voice was steady and calm. He was doing his best to not freak you out with the slight shake of his voice, “I’ll be there soon. Don’t make any sudden moves and keep quiet. Turn your walkie off. Over.”

You shut the walkie off and put it into Dipper’s bag, feeling a small sense of relief knowing that Ford is on his way, but you also know it might not be fast enough. The growling sounded closer now and you swore you saw something moving in the shadows between the trees, something tall, with glowing eyes.

Wendy stepped in front of the, her axe at the ready, her stance solid, “We’re not just going to wait around to be eaten by this thing, right?”

Dipper shook his head, “No, we just need to stall until Ford gets here. We have to stay still, no running.”

The growl turned into a low hiss and then the shadow seemed to shift. Out from the darkness, a figure emerged. It’s tall, towering over you, its body thin but impossibly long, covered in what looks like shadow itself. Its glowing red eyes scanned the group. The air grew colder. The Shadow Stalker.

Every instinct was telling you to run, but you forced yourself to stay still apart from pushing Dipper and Mabel behind you. The creature’s eyes focused on Soos, shaking so hard that you can hear the rustle of his jacket.

“It’s looking for movement,” Dipper whispered, barely moving his lips. “Stay calm. Stay-”

Before Dipper could finish, Soos stumbled backward, tripping over a tree root. The sound loud, a crack of branches and a thud as he hit the ground. The Shadow Stalker snaped its head toward Soos, its eyes glowing brighter. It gave a bone-chilling screech. It moved quickly, unnaturally fast, as it closed the distance between it and Soos in an instant.

“No!” Mabel shouted, unable to hold back her panic.

Just when it seemed like the creature is about to reach Soos, a blinding flash of light burst through the trees, hitting the Shadow Stalker in the chest. The creature screeched, recoiling as if burned by the light.

“Get away from them!” Ford’s voice boomed through the clearing as he emerged from the shadows, holding a strange device that hummed with energy. His face was set with determination. His eyes focused on the creature as it stumbled backward.

“Ford!” you cried out, the relief almost overwhelming.

Ford glanced at you, his expression softening for just a moment before he turned back to the Shadow Stalker. “Stay behind me, all of you!” he commanded, his voice sharp and authoritative.

You rushed to his side, your heart still racing as you pulled everyone behind you, but the fear you were feeling eased knowing he was there. Ford tightened his grip on the device in his hands, the light from it growing stronger. The creature hissed again, retreating further, but it circled, waiting for a chance to strike. You pressed the front of your body to Ford’s back. Dipper and Mabel were pressed firmly to either side of you. Soos had his own face buried in your back and Wendy clung to him.

Dipper, still holding the journal, tugged on Ford’s trench coat with wide eyes. “How do we stop it?”

Ford kept his focus on the creature as he adjusted a dial on the device, “We don’t kill it. We contain it. I’ve been preparing for this. I just need to hold it long enough to activate the trap.”

Mabel’s voice trembled, “What if it gets out?”

Ford glanced down at her, his expression serious, “It won’t. Not if we do this right.”

The creature howled, but Ford stepped forward to leave you feeling abandoned. His device emitted a soft hum that filled the air. The Shadow Stalker screeched in response, but Ford held his ground, a confident figure against the darkness.

“Stay close to me,” Ford said softly, his hand brushing against yours as he steadied himself. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You nodded, feeling a strange sense of comfort despite the danger. You’ve always trusted Ford, but in moments like this, you realized just how deeply you rely on him. You squeeze his hand briefly before stepping back, trusting him to finish what he started.

With a swift motion, Ford slammed the device into the ground and, suddenly, the forest floor around the creature began to glow. Strange, glowing symbols arose from the earth, forming a circle around the Shadow Stalker. The creature let out one final, earsplitting screech as the symbols pulse with light, trapping it inside the glowing barrier.

Ford took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing as the creature struggled to break free, “It’s done. It won’t be bothering anyone again.”

You let out a breath, your body finally relaxing as you threw your arms around him in thanks. Your nose was pressed firmly against his chest as you sighed with relief, “You saved us. Again.”

Ford chuckled softly as he pulled you from him. A six-fingered hand caressed your cheek, “I told you I’d always protect you.”

You both grinned when Dipper, Soos, and Wendy let out a groan of disgust. Wendy told you to ge a room. Mabel, though, laughed wildly, “Awwe, they’re so in love! How can you gus be grossed out? They're adorable.”

“So, uh, what now?” Soos asked, rubbing his arm where he fell.

Ford smiled, clamping his hand on Soos’ shoulder, “Now, we head back to the Shack. I’ll deal with this creature in the morning.”

As you all began to make your way back through the woods, you stayed close to Ford, your hand still in his. His presence was like an anchor, grounding you after that shock. It had been a while since you had a good scare, but the darkness of the forest didn’t seem as menacing anymore, not with Ford by your side.

“Next time,” he said quietly, leaning in just enough for you to hear, “you’re staying in the Shack with me.”

You laughed, the tension in your chest finally releasing, “I’ll take you up on that.”

[meazalykov]

the golden girl

uswnt x uswnt!reader

summary: what happened in a world where reader played on the USWNT in the 2019 World Cup?

part one (part two here)

Knowing that the call at eight am could change the pathway of my career, I couldn’t sleep. My mind spins rapidly as I tried to close my eyes and manipulate myself into believing that tomorrow would be an ordinary day, but that didn’t work. 

Hi! My name is Y/n L/n and I am a soccer player who plays for club Olympique Lyon. I am a forward who many people call the “next big thing,” since I am only 19 years old. 

After winning the Champions League final with Lyon, scoring a brace which involved a penalty, my career seemed to go in a great path that was unordinary for a teenager. 

I sat on my bed, criss-crossed, as I stared at the digital alarm clock on my bedside table. 4:38am. Three hours and twenty two minutes until I get the call. 

After traveling to my hometown in the United States, Virginia Beach, I traveled to the last International camp, before the World Cup, in order to “try out” for a World Cup roster spot. My mentality is great, my skills during the camp were phenomenal and I believe I proved that to the coaches, but I am young. 

The coaches will prioritize other forwards like Alex Morgan, Tobin Heath, Megan Raphinoe, and Christen Press first. I am aware of that. They’ve won the 2015 World Cup four years ago and have the experience to go up again. However, everyone knows that the USWNT will need to bring on youngsters to set themselves up for future competitions, so I have confidence that I'll be the one they’ll call. 

Three hours and twenty minutes later, I sat at my dining room table in Lyon, preparing for the unexpected. 

My phone’s flashlight goes off a few times and my screen brightens at the sight of my International Coach’s number. 

“Hey.” I spoke first as my finger pressed on the green button. The nervousness in my voice was present, I wanted this decision to go my way. 

“Hi Y/n! How are you feeling right now!?” My United States coach, Jill Ellis, asked. 

“I’m- Um— I’m nervous.” I told the truth. I heard a small chuckle come from the coach which I raised my eyebrows at. The tension on my end could be cut with a sharp knife. The lack of sleep made my nerves worse too. 

“Well I have some news for you.” Jill said. I swallowed on nothing as the next few seconds can predict how my day– sorry— year will go. I know she has to call other players about the decisions for them so our call won’t last long, thankfully. 

“Let me start off by saying that all of the coaching staff, including myself, needed to consider someone who is young and has a lot of quality. We were impressed by the amount of work you've put into our international camps and we’ve kept up on your club experience at Lyon for more reference. So, we’ve chosen you to be on the roster to represent the United States in the 2019 World Cup.” The excitement in Jill’s voice grew when she announced that I would be in the World Cup. 

However, most of what she said sounded muffled through the happy tears that poured down my eyes. I couldn’t believe it! My hard work paid off. 

“Thank you!” I said. 

“No Thank you Y/n! We’ll see you soon, Bye!” Jill ended the call before I jumped in joy. 

A couple of months later, I sat on the bench in France as the USWNT was up against Thailand in the group stage. It was the 64th minute and we were up 7-0. As I sat on the bench, my heart raced faster out of nervousness. Eventually, my head turned when I heard her call my name. I am excited, but my stomach felt like there was a rock in it. The weight of expectations settled squarely on my shoulders as I looked at the ongoing game. 

We are winning the game by seven, but I still wanted to prove my best to the coach, teammates, and the fans. When I stood up, my legs felt like jelly making my way to the touchline. The crowd's roar was deafening, every step closer to the pitch amplifying my nerves. 

“You’re going to go on for Raphinoe. We are up 7-0 but use this as an opportunity to get a feel of the field and experience.” Jill spoke with empathy as she patted on my back, allowing me to do the required warmup on the sideline before standing at the midline. 

I tried to shake off the doubts, reminding myself of the countless hours of practice that had brought me to this moment. The nerves in my legs wouldn’t calm down. Maybe I can use that as a source of adrenaline. 

Running onto the field in replacement for Raphinoe, the enormity of the occasion hit me like a ton of bricks. The stadium seemed to stretch endlessly all around me, filled with thousands of spectators watching my every move. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. The ball was at the other end of the field, giving me a moment to collect myself.

Then, Julie Ertz shot the ball over the left side of the field to gain space. The ball landed on my ivory-colored cleat and I dribbled around a Thailand opponent before passing to Alex Morgan who lightly tapped the ball behind the net. Goal!

My jaw dropped in realization as Alex jogged over to hug me. Some of the girls on the pitch came to congratulate me on the assist as others clapped their hands. I didn’t take it offensively, we are up 8-0 now and there's not much to celebrate now besides the inevitable win. My first touch in the World Cup gave an assist which I later found impressed spectators. 

I glanced at my teammates when the game started again, finding reassurance in their encouraging, yet concentrated, nods and smiles. They had confidence in my abilities, even if I struggled to find it within myself sometimes. With each passing second, my nerves began to settle, now replaced by a fierce determination to prove myself worthy of wearing the US jersey.

Eventually, I found myself caught up in the rhythm of the play. My eyes were on the ball, blocking out the noise of the crowd and the pressure of the moment. With each touch and pass to a teammate, my confidence grew and my movements became more fluid and precise.

Then, in the 73rd minute, it happened. A perfectly timed pass by Samantha Mewis found my feet. At this point I wanted to be the goalscorer, not the assist. With a burst of speed, I raced towards the goal and dribbled around the defenders who were in the way of the goal, the screaming chants of the crowd fading into the background as they saw what I was doing. At that moment, there was only me, the ball, and the goal.

My right foot unleashed a powerful shot, the ball rocketing into the back of the net with a stunning curve. Goal! The stadium erupted into cheers, the sound washing over me like a tidal wave of euphoria as my teammates ran to congratulate me on my first ever goal in the World Cup. For a brief moment, I allowed myself to bask in the glory of my achievement, the weight of my nerves finally lifted off of my shoulders. The game ended in a 13-0 win for us!

Later in the World Cup tournament, I found myself on the bench as my heart pounded at the match in front of me. Thanks to Alex Morgan and Christen Press who scored in the Semifinal against the Lionesses, we were in the World Cup final against the Dutch. 

As the game enters the 79th minute, with the score being 2-0, the coach calls my name. This took me by surprise since I didn’t believe that any substitutes would join the final. When I stood up, my legs felt like lead as I made my way onto the pitch for Tobin Heath, who had an injury earlier in the tournament and couldn't play all 90 minutes. The roar of the crowd washes over me, drowning out the doubts that threatened to consume me since I am on the right wing.

With only minutes remaining, I can’t make a mistake. I have to make every second count. We are up 2-0 but the Netherlands could easily catch up if we make a few errors, they’re EURO champions and have a statement to make for the world.

As I focus on the ball, blocking out the noise of the crowd and the pressure of the moment, the 89th minute comes along. Krieger gets the ball from a Dutch forward and launches the ball in the air towards Rose Lavelle. The girl who scored the second goal in the final headed the ball over the field again before it landed onto my feet— This is my chance. 

My feet take the ball towards the goal. Veenendaal, the Dutch Goalkeeper, sets herself up in a ready position. As I race closer to the goal, my heart pounds in my chest. The defenders close in but I dribble around them effortlessly. An Oranje defender missed her chance to side tackle me as my left foot unleashed a powerful shot. The ball grazed the tip of Veenendaal’s fingers and the ball hit the back of the net with stunning precision. Goal!

The stadium erupts into cheers as I run to the corner of the pitch to celebrate. A typical knee slide that allowed my knees to slide through the soft grass before I stood up and turned to my teammates who rushed to congratulate me. Everyone on the bench got up and ran to me as well to celebrate. At that moment, the voice in my head told me that I’ve done it. My goal gave everyone the reassurance that we secured a World Cup win for the USWNT four times. 

After winning the Bronze Ball, Gold Medal, and being able to take pictures with the World Cup trophy itself, I cried. The tears wouldn’t stop after my bestfriend Mallory Pugh hugged me as she cried as well. We were so happy, I have never felt so proud of myself and my team. 

Hopefully 2023 will secure us a three-peat…. 

part two here