#everyone really likes that belle dress huh

[nomie-11]

Piltover's Princess

masterlist! | part 2

synopsis: vi is a blushing mess for piltover's princess

pairings: vi x reader

The first time Vi saw you, she had to do a double take, and then a triple take. Jayce Talis’ little sister, Piltover’s Princess. She was smitten. 

“Cupcake, who is that?” She whispered with a nudge, not taking her eyes off of you as you crossed the room, a light and polite smile on your face. 

“Hm?” Caitlyn turned her head to match Vi’s view. “Oh? Y/n? She’s a friend of mine.”

A brief moment passed where Vi tried to think of the proper words to say, but her mind was blank, not working properly at the sight of your radiant eyes. 

“Do you think she’s gay?”

Caitlyn nearly spit out her wine. 

—————————————

The second time Vi saw you, it was at one of Piltover’s extravagant galas. The kind where everyone looked like they were dipped in gold and smelled of old money. Vi hated these events, but Caitlyn had insisted she come along. 

And there you were again. Standing near the balcony, your laughter ringing like bells over the dull murmur of ancient politicians and annoying industrialists. The soft moonlight spilling through the glass doors made your skin practically glow. Vi nudged Caitlyn, harder this time. 

“She’s here,” Vi hissed, eyes glued to you like you were the only thing in the room. 

“Yes, she’s here,” Caitlyn replied, sounding mildly amused. “She’s Jayce’s sister, Vi. Of course she’s here.”

“Yeah, but why didn’t you tell me she’d be here?” Vi complained, fidgeting with the cuffs of her jacket. 

“Vi, you look like you’re about to fight someone,” Caitlyn teased. 

“I’m not! I just–” Vi trailed off as you glanced int their direction, your striking eyes meeting hers for the briefest second. Her heart did a strange little flip. 

You smiled—a small, knowing thing—and waved. 

Caitlyn, ever observant, caught the way Vi stiffened and the faint flush creeping up her cheeks. She grinned to herself. 

“Go say hello,” Caitlyn suggested, nudging Vi toward you. 

“Wait, what? No, I can’t just—”

But it was too late. Caitlyn had already started toward you, leaving Vi no choice but to follow. 

“Y/n,” Caitlyn greeted warmly as she reached you, her voice smooth and composed. “It’s lovely to see you tonight.” 

“Caitlyn!” you said, your face lighting up at the sight of her. Then your eyes flicked to Vi. “And…?” 

“This is Vi,” Caitlyn introduced, her tone just a little too casual. “A close friend of mine.” 

You raised an eyebrow, your smile turning playful. “A friend, huh?” 

Vi’s throat suddenly felt dry. She extended a hand, trying to keep it cool. “Vi. Nice to meet you.” 

“Likewise,” you said, taking her hand. Your touch lingered just a second longer than necessary, and Vi was certain she saw something mischievous flicker in your eyes. 

Caitlyn cleared her throat, drawing your attention back to her. “You look stunning tonight, Y/n,” she said, her voice softening just slightly. Then she leaned over to Vi, pretending to cough as she whispered: “Come on, idiot. Compliment her.” 

“Yeah,” Vi managed to squeak out. “Your-uh-dress! It’s really pretty.” 

Vi felt like she was drowning under the weight of your attention. You were polite, elegant, and… absolutely enchanting. 

“Thank you, Caitlyn, and thank you as well, Vi,” you replied, a faint blush rising to your cheeks. “You’re both too kind. And you clean up nicely yourselves.” 

Vi could swear her cheeks were as pink as her hair, and she didn’t even get a direct compliment from you. 

“So,” you said, tilting your head, “what brings you two to a place like this? Surely not the riveting conversation?” 

Caitlyn chuckled, her eyes sparkling. “No, just the usual obligation. Though it’s not all bad now that you’re here.” The grin on Caitlyn’s face was mischievous as she glanced over at Vi, a flustered look on the fighter’s face. 

Vi shot Caitlyn a look back, feeling completely out of her depth. You, however, seemed delighted by the interplay between them, your gaze flitting between the two with interest. 

“Well,” you said, taking a step closer to Vi, your smiling widening, “maybe I’ll make your evening a little less boring.” 

Vi’s heart practically stopped.

—------------------------

The third time she saw you, it was a rare day off for Vi, and she’d planned to spend it aimlessly wandering the bustling streets of Piltover. Caitlyn had tagged along, insisting she needed to check on a few vendors for some ongoing investigation. Vi didn’t mind; Caitlyn’s company was always better than being alone. 

What she wasn’t expecting was to see you standing at a flower stall, holding a bouquet of brightly colored violets. 

“Oh no,” Vi muttered under her breath, instinctively ducking behind Caitlyn. 

“What is it now?” Caitlyn asked, turning to follow Vi’s line of sight. The second she spotted you, she smirked. “Oh, it’s Y/n. Why are you hiding?” 

“I’m not hiding,” Vi lied, her broad shoulder still visible behind Caitlyn despite Caitlyn’s towering figure. 

“Sure you’re not.” Caitlyn adjusted her posture just slightly to block Vi further, her own tone suddenly a little too casual. “Though I can’t imagine why you’re panicking. She looks quite lovely today.” 

“She’s always lovely,” Vi grumbled, her face heating up. “And she’s coming this way.” 

Before either of them could think of a plan, you spotted them and lit up. “Caitlyn! Vi!” You called out, making a beeline for them with a bouquet in hand. 

Caitlyn straightened immediately, all poise and grace. “Y/n! What a surprise to see you here.” 

“Is it?” you teased, tilting your head. “This is the main market street, after all.” 

“Right, of course,” Caitlyn said with a small smirk. 

Vi, still half-hiding behind Caitlyn, managed a weak wave. “Hey.” 

You raised an eyebrow, amused by Vi’s sudden shyness. “Hi, Vi,” you said, stepping closer. “You’re not much of a flower person, are you?” 

“I—uh—” Vi stammered, looking desperately at Caitlyn for help. 

“She’s more of a practical type,” Caitlyn interjected smoothly, clearly enjoying Vi’s discomfort. “Tools and gadgets—although her name is Violet.” 

“That makes sense,” you said, smiling at Vi, who looked like she was about to combust. “But they’d suit you, you know. A little color never hurts.” 

Vi’s brain short-circuited. Caitlyn, sensing her friend’s distress, stepped in with a quick change of subject. “And the flowers? Are those for someone special?” 

Your smile turned coy. “Maybe.” you glanced at Vi, who looked ready to fall through the cobblestones, and added, “You’ll have to wait and see.” 

As you walked away, bouquet in hand, Ciatlyn turned to Vi with a smirk. “Smooth.” 

“Shut up,” Vi muttered, watching you disappear into the crowd with a dazed expression. 

—-----------------------------

The next time they saw you, it was at a small, high end cafe where Caitlyn had insisted on dragging Vi for lunch. Neither of them expected you to stroll in, dressed casually but no less stunning, and immediately notice them. 

“Mind if I join you?” you asked, already pulling out a chair before they could answer. 

“Of course not,” Caitlyn said quickly, nudging Vi under the table when she failed to say anything. 

Vi, startled out of her trance, nearly knocked over her glass of water. “Uh, yeah! Totally fine. Sit—uh—sit down.” 

“I already am,” you said with a laugh, clearly enjoying her awkwardness.

The conversation started simple enough, with caitlyn asking about your family and Vi chiming in with the occasional comment. But then the server arrived, setting down the menus, and things quickly spiraled.

“What can I get you?” the server asked, turning to Caitlyn first. 

“I’ll have the house special,” Caitlyn said smoothly, handing back the menu. 

“And for you?” the server asked, looking at Vi. 

Vi froze, realizing that she hadn’t even opened her menu. “Uh… I’ll have what she’s having.” 

The server nodded and turned to you. “And you?” 

You smiled. “Just the tea for now, thank you.” 

Once the server left, you looked at Vi with a playful grin. “Didn’t peg you as a house special kind of girl.” 

Vi shrugged, trying to act cool. “Yeah, well, it sounded… special.” 

Caitlyn, meanwhile, was barely hiding her laughter behind a perfectly polite hand. “Smooth, Vi. Very smooth.”

“Oh, leave her alone,” you said, your voice warm as you reached across the table to lightly touch Vi’s hand. “I think it’s endearing.” 

Vi immediately went red, her brain short-circuiting again. Caitlyn raised an eyebrow at you, clearly nothing the way your gaze lingered on Vi a moment too long. 

The rest of the meal was a blur for Vi, who barely managed to form coherent sentences. By the time you excused yourself with a wink and a promise to “see them soon,” Caitlyn leaned back in her chair, smirking at Vi. 

“You’re hopeless,” Caitlyn said with a smug grin, sipping her tea. 

Vi groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I know.”

read part 2 here!

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

[moralesluvr]

i just saw the new billie pics in her heels and then she posts a photo dumb with her baggy outfits and cap and omg can you write a fic where billie works in readers university and is all dressed classy and one weekend reader runs into billie at a party and shes all dressed baggy and smokes weed and is completely different and they hook up and then continue in uni but have to hide ?!

TEACHER’S PET | b. eilish.

ꨄ︎ includes substance use, age gap (reader is 20 and billie is 27), smut !!

out of all your classes, miss eilish’s music theory class was definitely your favorite.

she always wore strikingly put together her creative outfits, with her pointed black heels, black and white skirts and blazers— she was always looking put together.

you had first met her during orientation week. when you saw her name plastered across your syllabus, you were sure it was some stuck up, old woman with small glasses that would lean against her frail nose. but it completely and utterly shocked you when you were met with a black-haired beauty with a voice of honey and pink, plump lips. there was a private ocean in her blue eyes, long eyelashes making them look even prettier as she'd never break eye contact when she spoke with you.

it was so wrong of you to think of her like that. but when you first got a glimpse of her, strolling into your class with a coffee in her hand and heels clacking against the tile floors, you knew you were in trouble.

her suit's tailored and impossibly sleek, and your mind can't help but drift as she addresses the class, writing something on the board that you're not paying attention to. all you can look at is her. the way her hair frames her face to accentuate her jaw, the way her black hair sits neatly atop her head. you didn't want to admit it, but she was fine as fuck.

"okay, so, these notes clash, which makes the dissonance more prominent," billie speaks, pointing to different examples of music up on the board. you try to focus, you really do, but your attention keeps drifting off to other places. to the way billie's hands move when she talks, showing off her hand tattoo, or the way her lips curl slightly when someone asks a question that she clearly finds stupid, though she's always polite enough to answer it.

you feel your attention finally drift back to the material, but by then, it's too late. the bell rings and everyone grabs their belongings, ready to move onto whatever class they have next, but you linger behind, making sure to grab your things slowly.

billie's still up front, stacking up papers and taking a sip of her coffee when her eyes catch yours over the rim of her cup.

it's like a reflex for you to look away, eyes focusing on whatever irrelevant shit is on the wall so that billie doesn't catch you staring.

you hear her heels clicking against the floor as she moves toward the door, probably on her way to another class or a meeting, but then they stop.

she turns around to look at you, eyebrows raised as she cocked her head to the side slightly out of curiosity, "you staying behind for a reason?"

her voice pulls you back in, warm and honey-smooth, as always. you glance up to find her standing at the edge of her desk, one perfectly arched brow raised as she looks at you.

your throat feels dry now. this is the first conversation that you've really had with her, and you felt so torn. because even though she was your teacher, she was still so beautiful, and it made you anxious regardless.

you try to play it off, "uh, no. i was just—" and then you pause, struggling to find an excuse that doesn't sound ridiculous. "just taking my time, i guess."

"taking your time, huh?"

you nod quickly, slinging your bag over your shoulder and gripping the strap to steady you. you bite your lip and pray that what just came out of your mouth is believable.

and it seems to be, because miss eilish doesn’t move. she's just watching you with that same quiet intensity from before, the same kind that makes your skin feel tingly when you look at her, the same kind that makes your ears perk everytime you hear her voice.

there’s something about the way her eyes linger on yours, a softness mixed with something sharper, something that sends a shiver down your spine.

"you’re... i'm sorry love, i'm not good with names. what’s yours again?" she asks, tilting her head slightly.

the little nickname of 'love' nearly makes you fall and crash onto the empty desk next to you. but you just mumble your name out to her, voice soft as you try to keep your behavior in check.

the conversation between you and billie is short-lived after that. she compliments your hard work and dedication, complains about some meeting she has to attend, and then she's off, the sound of her clicking heels fading as she disappears into the hallway.

and from that moment on, professor eilish is all you can think about.

you tell yourself it’s just a passing crush, something harmless and fleeting, but it doesn’t feel harmless when her voice lingers in your head long after class has ended. or when you catch yourself looking forward to music theory in a way that’s... unsettling.

there's nothing even fun about that class. it's hard and long and sometimes even gives you headaches, but the only thing that kept you so interested was her.

you started sitting closer to the front, telling yourself it’s because you want to focus better. and you do focus! ....at least for the first five minutes.

but then she’ll lean against the desk, crossing her arms in a way that makes the blazer pull just slightly against her frame, exposing her bare waist. or she’ll glance over her shoulder with a look so sharp, blue eyes glistening underneath the light of her classroom, making your breath catch.

and when she calls on you, there’s something in her tone, a faint lilt that makes it sound like she’s daring you to impress her. she always asks you a question like she wants you to get it wrong.

miss eilish calls on you one day, her voice cutting through the quiet hum of the classroom. "what do you think, love? do these notes resolve, or is there still tension?"

your heart skips as every pair of eyes in the room turns toward you, but hers are the only ones that really matter. she's waiting, hand on her hip as she holds an expo marker in hand, ready to draw your answer up on the board.

"uh... i think they resolve," you cough out, hoping you don’t sound as unsure as you feel. you knew it was the right answer, but every single pair of eyes in that classroom was on you, especially your favorite blue ones.

billie nods slowly, a hint of approval in her expression as she turns around to write the correct answer, "good. and why’s that?"

you fumble for an explanation, trying to string together something coherent while her gaze stays locked on yours. she bites her lip, and you feel your words slip from you as you try not to freeze up.

"because, um, the intervals between the notes... they close the gap, so there’s no dissonance left," you say in short, choppy phrases.

her lips twitch into a small smile, almost like she’s pleased. "exactly. nice work."

you swear her eyes linger just a second longer than necessary before she moves on, but it’s enough to leave your pulse racing for the rest of class.

────୨ৎ────

there's one afternoon where you decided show up to class early, expecting to have a few quiet minutes to yourself, but miss eilish's already there.

she’s leaning against the desk, scrolling through her phone with a coffee in hand, per usual. her blazer is draped over the chair behind her, leaving her in a crisp white button-up that somehow feels just as striking. it's low cut, and with her leaning against her desk the way she was, it gave you a direct view to her chest, making you gulp. you knock on the open door to let your presence be known, "hi, miss eilish."

she glances up when she hears you enter, her lips curling into that faint, almost-smile that’s been on repeat inside your mind. she raises a hand to wave at you, setting her phone down, "early today?"

"yeah," you say, feeling oddly self-conscious as you settle into your usual seat. "figured i’d get a head start. i've been struggling with...um, some tonic stuff."

"dedicated. i like that," she says, taking a sip of her coffee, waving her hand at you as she swallows, "and don't worry about the tonic stuff, honey, you don't have to be anxious with any of that. we’ll review.”

the way billie calls you more and more pet names as time goes on makes you stomach flip. of course, she probably calls all of her students some type of pet name, but it doesn't change the way it makes your cheeks feel hot to the touch as she gives you a smile when she calls you all sorts of sweet names.

────୨ৎ────

it’s the end of a long, dreary week when miss eilish calls your name just as class is about to end. you’re really not in the mood— slinging your bag against your desk with a huff, eyes burning with former tears when you found out that you had gotten a sixty on the test today.

you were just about to leave, collecting your things and shoving them into your bag when you hear billie repeat your name again, her voice cutting through the low hum of conversation as your classmates gather their belongings and head out. "can you stay for a moment?"

you freeze, your stomach flipping as the rest of t your classmates filter out, their chatter fading into the hallway until it’s eventually quiet, and now it’s just you and billie. you keep your head down, pretending to check the straps of your bag awkwardly.

"close the door, please," she says, her tone casual but firm. you nod, your palms suddenly clammy as you push the door shut, returning back to your seat.

when you turn around, she’s perched on the edge of her desk, one leg crossed elegantly over the other. her blazer is draped over her chair, and her sleeves are rolled up just enough to reveal the faint edge of her hand tattoo. you swallow thickly.

"you’ve been tense lately," miss eilish starts, tilting her head slightly to give you concerned eyes. she opens her mouth like she wants to speak again, but she stops, giving you a chance to speak for yourself.

"i’m fine," you say quickly when given the chance, though the words feel hollow even to you.

she can tell you’re lying.

her lips curve into a small smile, one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. it’s more sorrowful than all the other smiles she gives you, and she almost seems upset that you’re upset. “you’ve been saying that a lot, honey.”

you shrug, unsure of what else to say, so you avert your gaze to the floor. but she doesn’t let you off the hook so easily.

"school can be overwhelming," miss eilish continues, her voice softening. "but you don’t have to do it all alone, you know that, right? you can always—“

"i’m managing," you interrupt through a mumble, fiddling with the strap of your bag. you’re ready to bolt out the door. this is the first time that you wished you weren’t talking to billie right about now.

and as much as you want her to just hush and let you go, she doesn’t. her smile widens, just slightly as she tried to give you advice, "managing is one thing, but you’re allowed to take a break. you’re human. school it’s important, but it isn’t everything.”

her words catch you off guard. the way your name follows more intimate ones feels way too personal, like it doesn’t belong in this fluorescent-lit, dusty old classroom.

"i guess," you say, your voice quieter now. you don’t really know what to say. was there an appropriate response to this? and even if there was, you weren’t really in the mood at all.

"have you thought about doing something for yourself this weekend?" miss eilish asks, leaning back slightly, her hands resting on the edge of the desk behind her.

"not really," you admit, your attention definitely not on the conversation anymore. your eyes are fixated on her— her open top, her crossed legs, her freshly painted and cut nails…she was such a distraction.

billie hums thoughtfully, her eyes scanning your face like she’s trying to read you. "well, you should go out this weekend. do something fun, something that takes your mind off all of this for a while."

there’s a softness in her gaze that makes it hard to look away, even though every nerve in your body is screaming at you to do so.

"i’ll think about it," you say, forcing a small smile, though you really aren’t in the mood at all. but you muster up a fake laugh and a grin, packing up your final things to get ready and leave.

her eyes linger on you for a moment longer before she nods, sliding off her desk with a click! and grabbing her bags to go ahead and leave. "well, good. you deserve it."

────୨ৎ────

you don’t plan on going to this party.

you spend most of saturday afternoon curled up in your bed, your laptop balanced on your knees as you scroll aimlessly back and forth between netflix and pinterest, though neither of them really have your attention.

your intentions are mostly to take a chill day, but of course, your roommate, nadia— has other plans, bursting into your room halfway through the evening with a devilish grin and an outfit that screams bad decisions ahead!

"you’re coming with me," she announces, shaking a sequined top wildly before chucking it onto your covers. you don’t even look up at her, you just continue to scroll on your macbook as you shrug, informing her that you aren’t really interested in leaving your house.

"yes, you are," the girl insists insists, hands on her hips firmly. “you’ve been sulking all week. you need to get out! go get some bitches!”

"i’m not sulking," you protest, though the half-eaten bag of chips accompanied by a 3-day old dr. pepper can next to you might suggest otherwise. if it wasn’t for school, you really hadn’t left your dorm at all.

you felt like you were going crazy. school was kicking your ass, and all these little interactions with miss eilish just started to take more and more of a toll on you.

"come on, y/n," nadia speaks gently now, her tone softening out of respect for any decision you might make, though you know which one she wants you to make. "just one night. it’ll be good for you."

you sigh, glancing at the top she brought. it’s way flashier than anything you’d ever pick out for yourself, but her words stick with you. you needed to get out.

before you know it, you’re standing in front of the mirror, adjusting the hem of the sequined top and trying to convince yourself that this is what you needed. you put on a light base of makeup and fix your hair in a lazy updo, but still cute enough to where it makes you look put together.

“you ready to go?” nadia asks, applying some lipstick in the mirror as she planted a kiss on your cheek, the red tint contrasting against your skin. you frown, but you’re still showing all teeth as you shrug, “i guess so.”

maybe this could be good for you.

────୨ৎ────

the party is already in full swing by the time you and nadia arrive.

the bass of the most popular and newest songs reverberates through the walls, and the air is thick with the mingling scents of beer, weed, and something sweet— perfume mixed with all of the above, probably.

you follow your roommate through the crowd, your left hand gripping nadia’s and your right holding your phone so tight you thought your fingers could snap. losing your phone has to be number one worst things to do at a party, and tonight was definitely not the night to have anything bad added to your plate of stress.

you’re scanning the room, trying to find a quiet corner to retreat to when you realize that nadia’s twerking on some random guy, which you definitely had no interest in.

you’re walking towards a small sitting section with low eyes, and that’s when you see her.

she’s leaning against the wall in the back of the room, one foot propped up behind her. a red solo cup dangles from her fingers, and a joint rests lazily in an ashtray next to her, being picked up every once in a while for her to take a hit. her hair is loose, cascading around her face in soft waves, and she’s wearing an oversized hoodie and sweatpants that are so at odds with her usual polished appearance, it’s almost dizzying to you.

and it takes you a moment to process that it’s her.

miss eilish.

your professor.

your heart pounds as you stand frozen in place, torn between looking away and staring at her forever. her usual collected and sweet demeanor is absolutely nowhere to be found, and is now replaced with what you can guess as the authentic, raw side of her.

before you can decide whether you should speak to her or pretend you never even saw her, miss eilish’s eyes meet yours across the room, scanning your outfit.

you felt naked in front of her. with your gold, backless top and your tiny black mini skirt, you felt so immodest for your teacher to see you like this. you just bit your lip and looked down, knowing already that there was virtually nothing you could do to get out of this situation.

for a moment, neither of you moves.

then, slowly but surely, her voice calls out your name, smooth and unmistakable, cutting through the noise of the party. it’s hard to miss although you try your best to ignore it.

she was your teacher. you needed to bolt in the other direction and never look back, but it was like your feet were working against you as you turn back, your pulse racing, to find her weaving through the crowd toward you.

"didn’t expect to see you here," miss eilish says, stopping just a foot away from your idle spot near the booths in the back.

"didn’t expect to see you here either," you manage, your voice trembling slightly as you shrug, hoping that your attempted nonchalance would calm your nerves.

it didn’t.

billie chuckles, a low, soft sound that sends a shiver down your spine. her eyes flick over you, analyzing every single little detail about you. she’s taking in your outfit with an amused tilt of her head as she speaks with a surprised nod, “nice top."

"thanks," you say, your cheeks flushing. the air is thick now, and a little awkward, so you cough in attempt to calm your nerves. but billie does that for you,

"having fun?" she asks to break the silence. she reaches for the joint, bringing it to her lips and taking a slow drag.

"i’m really trying to," you admit, your eyes following the movement of her hand as she exhales.

she holds the joint out to you, her lips curling into a playful smile. "want some?"

your breath catches, and for a moment, you hesitate. you had never really smoked before, and the thought of calming your nerves down a little actually appealed to you.

"it’s just a party," miss eilish says, her voice soft, almost coaxing. "no one’s judging. it’s up to you.”

you didn’t really want to say no anyways, so you nodded, expecting billie to hand you to the joint. instead, she pulls it to your lips, low eyes fixated you as you take a couple hits, the smoke slipping past your lips.

────୨ৎ────

you really don’t know how, but you end up outside with billie, the cool air electrifying and sobering all at once. you were honestly just overwhelmed with all the noise, and there was too much going on— so you decided to sit outside at a patio, smoking and giggling, your nerves eventually calming down.

“you feel better, love?” there she does again with that damn nickname.

“a little,” you admit, crossing your arms and rubbing your hands against them to warm yourself. your mind feels a little hazy and your body feels slow, but it feels good, and you can’t help but giggle with billie as the both of you make fun of each other’s red eyes and sleazy looks.

she laughs softly, the sound low and intimate. “thought you’d be studying, i’m surprised you left your dorm at all.”

you shrug, the corner of your mouth lifting. “guess i took your advice. plus…my roommate forced me.”

billie giggles, resting her head in her arms as she lays atop the patio table. she gives you sweet eyes, “there’s something about you that i really like, but i can’t put my finger on what it is...”

you bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying what you want to say. it’s wrong— it’s inappropriate, this is your teacher for God’s sake. but it wasn’t like you started it. maybe the both of you could keep a secret?

“you’re so pretty,” she murmurs, her gaze dropping briefly to your lips before meeting your eyes again. your heart feels like it’s gonna pound out your chest, the tension crackling like static between you two. you should lean back, say something to defuse this moment, but you don’t.

instead, you stay rooted to the spot as her fingers brush your wrist, the touch sending a jolt through you.

“can i?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper, her lips so close now that you can feel the warmth of her breath on your skin. you nod, unable to form words, and then her mouth is on yours, soft and deliberate, and you feel your whole body tense as she billie you.

it feels so wrong, but so so very right, and you smile a little bit because you know that deep down, you wanted this, and you got exactly that.

────୨ৎ────

you realize that you’ve taken it too far.

one kiss turned into five, and then ten, and fifteen minutes later, you’re sitting on billie’s counter with a wine glass in hand, though there’s only juice in it. she had invited you over because she figured neither you or nadia were sober and couldn’t really be out responsibly. it was a refuge that tou genuinely did need, so you accepted, waiting until you were at least sober enough get home safely.

billie sits her glass down and makes her way over to you, hands finding your waist as she looks you deep in your eyes, telling you her secret before she does. she licks her lips, “you’re twenty, right love?”

you nod, “yeah….um…how old are you, miss eilish?”

“twenty-seven.”

shit.

seven years doesn’t seem like a lot, but it kind of is. but all of that concern flies out the window when her lips latch on yours, when your black miniskirt is nothing but fabric discarded to the floor, when billie’s head in buried deep in between your legs.

her eyes flickered to your exposed pussy, looking up at you before licking up a long stripe all the way up to your clit. you whine, your hand immediately finding her hair as you gripped at it, a handful filling your slick palms. billie’s tongue browses everywhere on you before settling on a singular spot on your bud, making you tremble underneath her. she suckles at your clit, her curvy nose alternating from side to side, maximizing the pleasure. you yank at her scalp, struggling to form words, "m-miss eilish… oh my gosh, p-please...please don't stop.”

it felt like such a sin the way she had your back arching, fists grabbing the counters beneath you— and yet it felt so right at the same time.

billie’s mouth is too busy to respond to you, but she answers you in a nod, causing the tip of her nose to bump against the sweet spot of your swollen clit. you fight not to scream out, your teeth desperately sinking into your bottom lip so hard that they nearly bleed.

billie slides her hand up to your torso as she resumes her sweet assault on your slick heat, kneading at your bra accented breasts. your toes flinch, begging to curl, causing you to cry out as billie takes your whole bud in her mouth. your knuckles turn white from gripping the counter, and she can tell you're close by the swelling of your sensitive clit.

she pulls away, serving you only mere licks, "gonna cum for me?"

"yes, god, yes," you pant, your head flying backwards. the pleasure is strong enough to knock you out, your eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks. the coil that's built up in your stomach finally snaps when billie returns to flicking her nose against your dripping cunt. her tongue settles idly against you, collecting all your juices, "so good, my good little girl, you did such a good job."

the stars in your eyes start to fade when your vision descends, looking directly at the girl who's basking in your current state. face all flushed, your cunt glistening and puffy, your hands still gripped against the table, your knuckles bleeding white. your chest rises, "want your fingers, miss eilish, please."

"since you asked so nicely," she coos, upstanding to her full height to peck you on the lips before shuffling in front of you. you shift backward so that she has full access to your pussy, watching as she gently plunged one finger into your sopping heat. a string of moans immediately rolls off your lips as you buck your hips forward, aching for more than what she was giving you.

"m-more," you pant, your eyes screwed shut.

"so greedy." billie nearly giggles, but she still adds another finger to the mix, per your request. she styles her thrusts in wide scissors, admiring your sloppy, relaxed state as you grunted beneath her. the tips of billie’s fingers curled upwards against your dilated walls, pressing against that sweet spongy spot deep within your core. a tingly feeling erupts in your stomach, making your hand fly to her exposed arms. your fingernails into her flesh, the outline of your acrylics leaving red semi circle marks on her bicep.

billie’s thumb unlatches from her palm, journeying to find your pulsing bud. she smiles when she locates it, rubbing tight, firm circles on it. you immediately clench around her fingers, "miss...oh my goodness, i-i can't..."

"c'mon," she encourages, her pace speeding up, "you can take it. you’re my best girl, always— in class, right now, prove me right, honey.”

you nod, although you were unsure about her statement. you chant her name like a prayer, moans escaping your throat. billie’s free thumb presses underneath your chin, forcing you to look at her. she looks back at you with stern eyes, "shut it up, or i'll stop, you hear me?"

"yes.”

“yes what?”

“yes ma’am.” you whine, watching as billie gives you a small nod before continuing to thrust her digits deeply inside you, watching you fall apart beneath her. your chest fluctuates and your back arches, your walls clenching irregularly around her fingers. she feels your core tighten, "that's it, good girl— i’ve got you honey. you can cum."

you do as told, your orgasm ripping through you as you cry out, your eyes sewn shut. billie continues to finger you—ignoring your post-orgasm sensitivity, grinning at the sight of you shaking at her tender touch.

"m-miss... f-feels s'good," you manage to breathe out, looking up at her smug face. she can't contain her giddy expression- she loved seeing you like this, a complete mess beneath her, your glistening body on display for her and only her. the squelching of your wet pussy is the only sound that fills the atmosphere, accenting her occasional praises.

“you wanna hear the truth?” billie starts, her movements not ceasing as she extended her height to put her face right up against your own, foreheads touching. “every since i watched you walk into my class, i couldn’t take my fuckin’ eyes off of you. you’re smart and attentive, fuck— so damn pretty. and i didn’t wanna lose my job, no, of course not— but i should’ve known that you were staying after so much just to come see me. is that true?”

you nod, the walls of your cunt tightening as you felt that familiar feeling grow in your abdomen as she continues, “i know, princess. but this our little secret, yeah? you keep your pretty mouth shut, and you can have whatever you want.”

the way she’s talking to you, it makes your stomach flip. you knew deep down that it was wrong, the way you’d have to slip past her in the halls like you didn’t see her, pretending like your attentiveness was just because of your love for the subject, though it really never was.

when you come down from your last orgasm and billie cleans you up, you’re laying in her bed with her clothes on, watching as she discards her own to throw on something more comfortable.

as she slips under the covers next to you, you feel her rest her chin in the crook of your neck, her hands resting on your waist.

“this is our little secret.”

and it was. you snuck around campus to see her, would linger behind in class just so you could steal a kiss before your next one. you’d leave after school and go to her apartment, drinking wine and making love, just to be back in her classroom the next morning.

she’d give you playful winks sometimes, and people speculated who miss eilish would’ve gone for, assuming it was some air headed guy in her sixth class. and though it was so very wrong, your lips couldn’t help but curl, knowing that you had gotten exactly what you wanted.

she was all yours.

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[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Hello, I have a request

One where the reader flirts with Spencer and asks him on a date, he is all blushing and stuttering.

Have a nice day!! 💖

plus size burlesque dancer!reader, wc: 648.

a/n: HEYYY so i don't know if you guys can tell but i'm dabbling in all kinds of au's and stuff? they're just so fun to write and really shakes up my writing :]

Spencer gives a shy smile to your co-worker at the ticket booth as he lets him in, bidding him a small but soft thanks.

Though the club had a few more hours until opening and he really shouldn’t be there, everyone knew the drill. Spencer tries to come and visit you before your shows just to get that one-on-one time with you before you’re all glammed up to go perform.

Perhaps Spencer should thank Penelope for choosing the BAU’s rare outing to be at a Burlesque club, because he met you, one of the prettiest dancers. It made sense that Penelope would frequent here, and now he found himself here often too.

He takes at the table he normally does when the bartender drying out glasses tells him you’ll be down in a second. Spencer takes the time to drag his eyes around the interior of the room. It looks so different during the day, the lack of lustful yet comedy ridden performances gives off the impression of a small theater.

Though you own the place, you don’t often sit on the sidelines, choosing to dance with your girls, though you try to limit the amount of dance numbers you give yourself so the others are able to have more stage time. You’re just selfless like that and it causes a swarm of butterflies to flutter around in Spencer’s stomach.

Spencer isn’t at all surprised when you approach him in a frilly robe, your face bare and hair pulled out of your face. 

“Spence, hi!” You always greet him like it’s the first time you’d seen him, your large smile on your face to match the excitement in your body. 

“Hey!” He says as he pulls you into a respectful hug. You make a point to deepen the embrace, giving him a squeeze. When you pull away, you almost melt at the sight of his cheeks blushed that admirable pink hue.

“Couldn’t wait until tonight to see me, huh?” You tease as you sit down next to him. “I wish I could,” He begins with a frown, “But I’m pretty sure I’m going to be pretty busy these next couple of days and I just wanted to tell you, y’know, so you don’t think I disappeared on you or something.”

You laugh that twinkling laugh that sounds like bells in his ears. “You’re such a gentleman, Spence. But thanks for letting me know, really. I look forward to our chats.”

“Yeah,” He admits bashfully, “Me too.”

“You know…” You began, “We don’t always have to meet here.” You’re nervous, it’s written clear as day all over your face and in the way you nibbled on your lower lip. “What do you mean?” Spencer asks with furrowed brows. 

“What I mean is, I'm asking you on a date and trying to not psych myself out of it.”

Oh God, Spencer’s heart was about to beat out of his chest.

“Y - yeah.”

“Yeah?” You asked in amusement. “Yeah, I mean no - I mean! I mean yes, I would like to go on a date with you.” His face flushes an even darker red through his stuttering, and a place of sickening endearment worms its way into your heart.

“Great!” You exclaim with a sigh of relief. “You know… I have a few hours to spare before the club opens. How about brunch?”

“That sounds good.” 

“Cool, just let me get dressed real fast and I’ll be back down in a sec.” 

He watches in admiration as you walk away and he smiles to himself, already thinking of ways to pay for your food before you do it yourself. You’re quite difficult when it comes to things like that, but Spencer feels like it’s a battle that he looks forward to, a fight that he wouldn’t mind having for the rest of his life if you would let him.

[yngtort]

—skintight ❄️

Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock

Kinkmas day 3

xfem!reader mdni. 1.6kw. In which Chris really likes that dress you’re wearing

Baby, what’s taking so long?

“We’re gonna be late.” Chris said he knocked on the bedroom door.

He waited impatiently for you to come out, not knowing what was taking you so long. He just wanted to make it to his parents dinner party on time.

Like he gets that you want to impress his family, but it’s not really that big of a deal. His mom and dad already loved you for who you are, and he felt like you didn’t have to go all out every-time you see them.

“Y/n, come on.” he said, finally opening up the door.

his plan was to come in and drag you out the house, half naked if he had too. But when his eyes landed on you, wearing the cuntiest mrs.claus dress he’d ever seen, he changed his mind.

He was losing it, looking at how the dress hugged everything just right, showcasing every curve that he’s touched and kissed.

And those fucking fishnets.

The way your thighs strained against the diamond pattern made his mouth water. it took everything in him not press your face into the mattress and fuck you until bed gives in.

“What do you think?” the question was almost taunting as Chris watches you do a little twirl.

“I think I want to stay home.” He moves closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I don’t want anyone seeing you looking this good.”

You chuckle softly, “sorry, love. But we can’t ditch your parents.”

Chris groans, dramatically throwing his head back like a child. As much as he knew his parents wouldn’t actually care if you didn’t show up, he also knew that you were really excited to see them.

“Fine, fine.” He pouted and you can’t help but place a kiss on his soft lips.

“One more-“ “Chris.”

-

From the moment you stepped in the house, chris just couldn’t keep his hands off of you. with every step, he was trailing behind you, keeping his hand latched to your side.

you tried to brush him off as you talked with his mom, helping her set up the dinner table. And you’re more than happy when mrs.bang declines his offers to come along as well.

“What’s gotten into that boy? It’s like you casted a spell.” mrs.bang jokes as she sets the last plate down.

“It must be all the eggnog.” You reply and the older woman laughs.

“Whatever it is, I hope it gets me some grandkids.”

This was the reason why you adored his parents so much. They’re so lovable and easy to get along with, much like their son.

“What are you two over here gossiping about? The foods gonna get cold!” Mr.bang says with a hearty chuckle, taking his designated spot at the dinner table.

You watched as the rest of the family followed suit, sitting down at the table. you do the same, taking the empty seat beside chris.

“Hey you.” He says with a cheeky grin, hand automatically landing on your thigh.

“Hey.” you reply

Throughout the course of the dinner, his fingers just kept playing with your fishnets. Slipping his them through the holes, feeling the thin layer of stockings that your wore to keep you from getting cold.

His mind went rampant, thinking about ripping them right off you and using them to tie your hands together.

“Right, babe?” Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts in an instant.

“Huh? I’m sorry, what were you saying?” He said blinking at you like a dear in head lights.

A sigh leaves everyone’s lips at the table.

“your mom suggested that we stay here for the night, since it’s so late.” You explained.

“And you agreed?”

“Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Because he wants to go home and hear you scream his name, that’s why.

Chris press his lips into a line, not saying a word. you had already taken up his parents offer and he really didn’t want to make a scene by begging you to leave.

So in the end, he’ll just have to fuck you here.

-

you’re at the sink, watching the dishes on your own after offering to do so.

Of course everyone protested, but you convinced them that it’s the least you could do since they’re letting Chris and you stay there.

you sigh to yourself in relief as you get down to the second to last plate, hands tired and pruned from all the washing.

“Love,” a voice calls from behind and you don’t budge when two bulky arms wrap around your waist.

“I’m almost done, Chris. go to bed.” You say, rinsing off a dish.

“But I wanna help you." He whispered, grip only getting tighter as his head fell into the curve of your neck, placing soft kisses there.

“I don’t need help.”

"Yes, you do." He insisted, his voice husky with desire. “You’re taking so long already.”

“You’re so stubborn. Just go-“ your breath hitches, feeling his innocent kisses switch to sucking and biting.

“C-Christopher stop it.” You slap his arm, “that hurts.”

Chris hummed softly, letting go of your skin with a soft pop. “Can’t help it. You just look so delicious standing here.” He whispered, rocking his against you and you gasp.

“you’re hard..?”

"Been like this since I saw you in this dress." He admitted, his voice rough. "I want you so bad, y/n."

his hands slid up to cup your breasts, pinching and rubbing your nipples through the thin material.

“We can’t do this in your parents' house.” You protested despite how turned on you were getting.

"I don't care." Chris rolled his eyes, "We’re going to make love. Right here, right now."

he pushed you against the sink, his thick, hard cock rubbing against your backside. You don't even have a chance to think before your fishnets and stockings are being ripped open.

“Wait, wait.” "No more waiting." He hissed, sliding his hands over your lace panties and pulling them to the side.

"I want you bare for me." his fingers traced the slick folds before sliding inside you, filling you up with two fingers.

“Y-you’re insane”

“You love it," he grunted, punctuating his words with hard slaps against your ass. “You love being taken like this.” He pushed his fingers deeper, stretching your tight channel.

You absolutely fall apart on his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as he pumps you restlessly.

“Gonna come on my fingers, hmm?” He whispers into your ear, nipping at it right after. “Go ahead then, beautiful.”

you bite back your moans as your orgasm rushes in, still trying to be mindful of the people within the house.

“That's it." Chris praised as you coat his digits. He pulls them out slowly and your hole puckers for more. it was such a pretty sight, ripped tights, soaked thighs— his dick twitched in anticipation.

Chris hands shook slightly as he pushed his pants and boxers down to his ankles. He positioned his tip at your entrance, teasing it just to get a reaction out of you.

“channie, please.” you whine, wiggling your ass back.

Your boyfriend chuckled, “soon, sweetheart.” he said before sinking inside. He hissed at how tightly your wrapped around him like he hasn’t fucked you enough.

“fuck, you’re so big.” You mewled.

"Not big enough." He growled, starting to move within you, his hips thrusting hard. The feeling of his cock stretching you walls drove you wild, every nerve in your body was in flames. “Wanna break you open, make sure you can only fit me.”

The kitchen was filled with heavy breaths and the sound of the water running. You had no idea if his parents could hear you from their room, but at this moment you didn’t care. Just wanted to be used by the man behind you.

Chris' thrusts were hard and fast, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he took you from behind. every time he hit your g-spot he got closer and closer to cuming.

“I love you so fucking much.” He groaned into your ear, hips stuttering. “wanna cum inside today. Can I? Fill you up with my seed?”

“yes, please” you granted, feeling your peak rise for the second time. “I need it.”

“Take it.” his fingers tore into your skin as he emptied himself inside. His cock throbbed, pulsating with each powerful stroke, leaving you quivering and sated. the white liquid dribbles down whatever’s left of your outfit, eventually getting soaked up in the fabric.

“I’ll have to buy you a new pair, won’t I ?”

“Not if you’re just gonna fuck em up again.”

Tinytag list (open, comment if you wanna be added) : @foxinnie8 @panjakes @sydnerss @sunnyyangie

[beautification-tales]

The Wereslut

A tale of periodic transformation

Ginger's heart fluttered like a caffeinated butterfly as she approached Sam's door. She clutched the stack of anime DVDs to her chest, feeling their plastic cases dig into her skin. Her cheeks flushed a shade of red that could put a ripe tomato to shame. She had met Sam only a few months ago when he moved into the apartment next door. Tall, with a mop of chocolate-brown hair and a smile that could light up a room, he was the kind of guy she had always admired from afar. He was cool, athletic, and had a mysterious aura that she just couldn't resist.

The hallway was eerily quiet, the only sound the muffled thump of music from a distant apartment. Ginger took a deep breath and rapped her knuckles against the door. It swung open, revealing Sam in all his glory, dressed in a casual tee and sweatpants. His eyes widened in surprise, then a warm smile spread across his face. "Hey, Ginger! What's up?"

Her voice quivered slightly. "Hi Sam, I... I was wondering if you wanted to come over and watch some anime with me?" She held out the DVDs like a peace offering. "I know it's not everyone's cup of tea, but I thought you might enjoy it."

Sam's smile grew as he looked over the titles of the top DVD. "Attack on Titan, huh?" He chuckled. "You're trying to convert me into a weeb, aren't you?"

Ginger's blush deepened. "Only if you want to be," she replied with a nervous laugh. "But I promise it's really good."

Sam's smile remained as he glanced over his shoulder, his eyes searching the room behind him. "Actually, Ginger, I'm kind of in the middle of something." The words hit her like a brick wall. Her hopeful expression crumpled slightly, and she took a step back. "Oh, I see. That's okay. I just thought—"

But before she could finish her sentence, the sound of giggling and high heels clicking on the floor grew louder. A moment later, a beautiful brunette with a figure that could make any magazine cover jealous sailed into view, her arms laden with shopping bags. "Sammy!" she cooed, planting a kiss on his cheek. "You didn't tell me you had company!"

Sam's expression grew sheepish as he took in Ginger's downtrodden look. "Ginger, this is Tiffany," he said, his voice tight. "Tiff, this is my neighbor, Ginger."

Tiffany's eyes swept over Ginger's unassuming attire and the anime DVDs before her smile grew strained. "Hi there," she said, her voice dripping with forced sweetness. "Sam's told me all about your... hobby."

Ginger felt a sudden urge to shrink away, her excitement replaced by a sinking feeling of embarrassment. She had hoped, maybe even for a second, that Sam would see her in a different light, that maybe he'd want to share in her love of anime. But now, with Tiffany standing there, she realized how ridiculous she must look. "It's okay," she murmured, trying to keep the disappointment from seeping into her voice. "Another time."

Tiffany's laughter was like a tinkling bell, but the sound grated on Ginger's nerves. "Oh, I don’t think so. Sam isn’t into geeky loser things.," she said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. Sam’s eyes widened at Tiffany’s cruel comment. He took a step towards Ginger, his hand reaching out as if to apologize.

"Tiff, that's not nice," he admonished gently. “What it’s true isn’t babe? You don’t want to give this girl any false hope… right?” she said with a knowing smile, her voice as sweet as honey-laced venom.

Ginger's eyes filled with tears, and she took a shaky step back. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her cheeks burned as the words echoed through the hallway. The stack of DVDs grew slippery in her grip, and she fumbled to keep them together. "It's fine," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I should go."

Sam's hand hovered in the air, his expression torn between guilt and frustration. "Tiff, that's not—" he began, but she placed a hand on his chest, cutting him off with a look that was both seductive and commanding.

Ginger didn't wait to hear the rest of the conversation. She turned on her heel, her heart feeling as if it had been crushed under Tiffany's expensive stilettos. Tears blurred her vision as she hurried back to her apartment, the DVDs clattering against each other in her trembling grasp. She could feel the weight of Tiffany's gaze on her back, but she refused to look back. Once inside the sanctuary of her own four walls, she let the tears fall freely, her shoulders shaking with sobs that seemed to come from a place of pain she didn't know existed.

Her room was a testament to her love for anime: posters of her favorite characters adorned the walls, plushies lined the bed, and a bookshelf groaned under the weight of countless manga volumes. Normally, the sight of her collection brought her comfort, a reminder of the fantastical worlds she could escape to whenever reality became too much to bear. But now, as she stared at the poster of a fierce heroine holding a sword aloft, she felt nothing but a hollow ache.

Something in Ginger snapped as she screamed in pain. The sound echoed through her room, a cathartic release of the agony that had been building inside her. She took a deep breath and turned to face the poster of the heroine she had once admired. With trembling hands, she reached up and tore it from the wall. The paper ripped under her fingernails, sending a thrill of anger and adrenaline through her body. One by one, she yanked the posters down, each tear echoing her own shattered illusions.

Her vision blurred with unshed tears, she stumbled out of her room and into the hallway, the DVDs scattered on the floor behind her. She needed air, needed to get away from the suffocating reality that was her life. Without bothering to change out of her sweatpants and oversized t-shirt, she grabbed her phone and keys and left the apartment, slamming the door behind her.

The cool evening breeze kissed her flushed cheeks, and she took deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart. She quickly walked past Sam’s door and could hear his groans of pleasure, which grew louder as she approached the stairwell. Her steps slowed, and she leaned against the wall, her knees threatening to buckle under the weight of her own mortification. Through the thin barrier, she could make out Tiffany's high-pitched giggles and the unmistakable sounds of passionate lovemaking.

Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the sweat that had formed from her earlier exertion. Ginger felt like a fool for thinking that someone like Sam would ever be interested in someone like her. The geeky girl next door, with her unruly red hair and glasses, was no match for a goddess like Tiffany. She stumbled down the stairs, her eyes blinded by the tears, and pushed through the heavy front door of the apartment building.

The street outside was alive with the sounds of the city: cars honking, people laughing, and music playing from various windows. Ginger didn’t register any of it as she started walking, her legs moving on autopilot. She didn’t have a destination in mind, just a desperate need to put distance between herself and the apartment complex that now felt like a prison of humiliation. The sidewalk was a blur of concrete and shadow as she stumbled down the block, the neon lights of the nearby convenience store reflecting off the wet pavement.

Her thoughts were a tumultuous storm, each memory of Sam and Tiffany’s encounter striking her like a bolt of lightning. She couldn’t shake the image of Tiffany’s smug smile, her words cutting through Ginger like a hot knife through butter. The pain was unbearable, a reminder of every time she had been dismissed or belittled because of her hobby, her looks, her very essence.

As Ginger walked, her eyes remained cast downward, avoiding the glances of passersby. The world felt too harsh, too cruel to face. The sidewalk grew crowded, and she felt the press of bodies around her, a stark contrast to the loneliness that engulfed her. Without warning, she collided with someone, her body bouncing off them like a pinball.

Ginger's eyes shot up to see a gorgeous brunette woman standing in front of her, dressed in a stylish outfit that screamed confidence. For a split second, she thought it was Tiffany, come to twist the knife even deeper. But the woman's eyes, a soft brown, were filled with concern rather than the malice she had just encountered. "Oh, I'm so sorry," the stranger said, her voice as sweet as it was sincere. "Are you okay?"

But Ginger was beyond okay. The anger that had been simmering inside her boiled over, and she took it out on this unsuspecting bystander. "What the hell is your problem, watch where you're going!" she snarled, pushing the woman away. The brunette staggered back, her eyes wide with shock.

“Umm excuse me?” The brunette woman’s eyes narrowed, the sweetness replaced by a hint of annoyance. “You’re the one who practically bulldozed into me!” Ginger’s heart was beating fast as she unleashed all of her pent up rage. “Fuck you bitch! Women like you think you can do anything you want! Why? Because you got blessed with big titties? So just get out of my fucking way you empty headed bimbo.”

The woman took a step closer, her expression morphing from anger to curiosity. "Bimbo?" she repeated, one eyebrow quirking upwards. "You've got quite the mouth on you, little girl. You know what they say about calling someone a bimbo, don't you?"

“What ?” Ginger sniffled, wiping at her nose with the back of her hand. She hadn’t meant to let it all out like that, but the pain was too much. The stranger smiled as she whispered. “It takes one to know one.”

Before Ginger could respond, the brunette leaned in closer and licked the palm of her hand. It was a quick, almost imperceptible gesture, and Ginger’s eyes widened in shock. The woman’s tongue was warm and wet, leaving a strange tingle in its wake. She stepped back, trying to shake off the bizarre sensation, but the stranger’s gaze held her in place. Her eyes had changed, the pupils dilating to almost swallow the irises whole.

"By the power of the moon," the woman began, her voice low and hypnotic, "I bestow upon you a gift, a transformation." Her words were laced with a mysterious power that seemed to resonate through the very air around them. Ginger felt a strange energy coil around her, tightening like a noose with every syllable spoken.

Ginger’s hand burned with pain as a burn mark appeared where she was licked. “Ah what the fuck!” she yelped, staring at the hand in horror. The brunette’s smile grew wider, revealing her white teeth. “It’s a small price to pay for what’s to come,” she said cryptically. “I’m sure you’ll have so much fun…tomorrow.” The woman laughed as she walked away, leaving Ginger trembling with confusion and fear.

The cold evening air seemed to pierce through Ginger’s skin, and she felt a sudden, inexplicable chill run down her spine. Shivering, she turned and hurried back towards her apartment building, her legs moving faster than she thought possible. The sounds of Sam’s lovemaking had faded into the distance, and she was grateful for that small mercy. As she reached the safety of her own hallway, the chill grew stronger, and she could feel a strange energy pulsing through her veins, setting her nerves alight with anticipation.

Her trembling hand fumbled with the keys, and she finally managed to unlock the door, stumbling into the relative sanctuary of her apartment. The mess of DVDs and torn posters greeted her like a sad reflection of her shattered heart. She didn’t have the strength to clean up the mess or even change out of her tear-stained clothes. Instead, she collapsed onto her bed, the mattress welcoming her with a comforting sigh. Her hand throbbed where the brunette’s saliva had burned her, the pain a constant reminder of the bizarre encounter.

“Forget Tiffany. She’s a bitch and I love anime. I love you.” Sam said as he looked deeply into her eyes. Ginger felt a spark of hope flicker inside her chest. Could it be that he felt the same way? That he didn’t care what anyone else thought about her hobby? She took a tentative step closer to him, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. Sam embraced her and kissed her deeply, his arms wrapping around her in a warm embrace. The passion between them grew stronger, and soon they were both lost in a whirlwind of desire.

But the dream shattered as abruptly as it had begun. The sound of knocking on her door yanked Ginger from her fantasy world, and she bolted upright in bed. The room was bathed in the cold light of dawn, the curtains fluttering gently in the breeze from her open window. Her heart raced, the remnants of her dream clinging to her like a stubborn fog.

Ginger frowned in disgust as she was covered in sweat. She reached down and felt that her panties were drenched. The dream had been so vivid, so real. But it was just that, a dream. A sad, sad dream that taunted her with the one thing she wanted most - Sam's acceptance and affection. She wiped her eyes, trying to scrub away the last traces of hope that had lingered from her slumber. The knocking grew more insistent, echoing through the silent apartment. She threw off the covers and stumbled towards the door, her legs feeling like jelly.

When she opened it, she was surprised to find Sam standing there, his eyes red-rimmed and his hair sticking up in every direction. He looked like he hadn’t slept at all. "Hey, Gin," he said, his voice low and gruff. "Can I come in?"

Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t expected to see him today, let alone this early in the morning. She stepped aside, allowing him to enter. His presence filled the room, making it feel smaller and more intimate than it had just moments before. The smell of his cologne, faint but noticeable, tickled her nostrils and brought back memories of their awkward encounter in the hallway.

“Did.. Did you just wake up? I’m sorry if I woke you,” Sam said, his eyes darting around the room, taking in the mess from the night before. “Umm it’s ok it’s early.” Ginger responded trying to hide the mess. “You’re joking… right? It’s evening Ginger.” Sam said, a look of confusion crossing his face.

Ginger looked at the clock, it read 7:30 PM. “Oh my god, I totally lost track of time,” she said, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She had been sleeping the whole day away. Yet her body still ached as if she had not rested enough. Sam looked at her with concern, his handsome features etched with a frown. “So I wanted to come over and apologize. Tiffany is kind of…”

“A bitch!” Ginger exclaimed, interrupting Sam before he could finish his sentence. “You don’t have to apologize for her, Sam. She’s not worth it.” The anger in her voice was palpable, but she couldn’t hold back the hurt that bled through her words. “Yeah well it won’t happen again.” Sam said, his voice tight with frustration.

“Oh really you’re not going to fuck her again?” Ginger couldn’t hold back her feelings. She felt bolder for some reasons as the ache stayed throughout her body. “Huh?” Sam looked surprised. “No, I meant what she said to you. It was wrong. She shouldn’t have talked to you like that.” He stepped closer, his eyes searching hers for any signs of residual pain. Ginger felt the pain increase as she winced at his words. The anger and embarrassment from the encounter had not fully dissipated, and his apology was a salve that didn’t quite cover the wound.

“Hmmm let me guess you used that big fat cock to punish her and now she’ll be a good girl.” Ginger’s eyes widened as she surprised herself. She immediately looked down embarrassed at how explicit her words were. “Yeah… wait, how do you know this?” Sam’s eyes narrowed.

“Cmon Sam. The whole building could hear you two.” Ginger mumbled, avoiding eye contact with him. She felt a strange mix of emotions, a cocktail of anger, embarrassment, and something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “I’m not mad at you, I just don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

“Well I meant it. I would love to watch Attack on Titan with you.” Sam said, his voice gentle and sincere. Ginger's heart did a little dance in her chest. Could it be that he was actually interested? “No Sam, I think you’d rather watch me attack that cock!” Ginger’s mouth hung open, shocked at the words that had tumbled out of her mouth. It was as if the pain from the day had turned her into a completely different person, one that was not afraid to speak her mind.

Ginger could feel the pain increasing in her chest as she looked at Sam, unsure of what to say. “Whoa Ginger! Are you ok?” Sam asked, taking a step closer. The genuine concern in his voice was like a balm to her soul, soothing some of the raw anger she felt. It was like something else was in her itching to come out. “I… I’m sorry I don’t feel so great.”

Without warning, the memory of the brunette's spell crashed over her like a wave. She glanced outside, the curtains billowing in the evening breeze. The sun had set, and the moon was a silver sliver in the dark sky. The ache in her hand was now a pulsing throb, a reminder of the mysterious encounter. Her eyes grew wide with realization. “Yeah you look like you’re burning up.” Sam said as he placed his palm on her forehead. “Whoa you definitely have a fever! You’re hot!”

“About time you noticed me!” Ginger exclaimed, her voice laced with seduction. Sam stepped back, his eyes searching hers, his hand still hovering near her forehead. He had felt the heat, but now he could see it. Her eyes had changed, the green of her irises swirling with gold, a fiery dance that seemed to reflect the intensity of her emotions.

Ginger stepped away and shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me! I think you should go ah ah” Ginger grabbed her stomach as the pain was unbearable now. She felt a warmth spread through her body, starting from her hand and moving up her arm. Her heart raced as the heat grew stronger, and she could feel something happening to her. Her skin began to tingle, and she watched in horror as her nails grew longer, sharper, and a deep crimson color.

“Sam what’s happening to me?” she whispered, her voice trembling as she held out her hand for him to see. But instead of fear, Sam's eyes lit up with something akin to excitement. His gaze roamed over her body, and she felt a strange sensation, as if his eyes were physically caressing her. Her body responded to his gaze, her breasts growing heavier, her nipples hardening into points that pushed against the fabric of her shirt. She felt her body stretch and change, her curves becoming more pronounced, and her skin taking on an ethereal glow.

Her sweatpants grew tighter, the fabric straining against her expanding ass. She looked down to find that her buttocks had swelled to an impossible size, the material of her panties stretching to the point of transparency. It was as if she had been blessed with the voluptuousness of a goddess overnight, and the sight of her own transformation was as terrifying as it was exhilarating. The pain in her hand had spread throughout her body, but it had morphed into a pleasurable ache that made her want to moan with each movement.

Ginger's short hair grew longer with every passing second, cascading down her back in fiery waves. Her cheekbones sharpened, and her eyes grew brighter, the green now a mesmerizing emerald that seemed to sparkle in the dim light of her room. Her glasses slipped off her nose, no longer needed as her vision corrected itself. She watched in the mirror as her body continued to change, her arms and legs filling with a newfound strength and feminine muscle that rippled under her skin like living art.

“Ungh fuck this feels so good!” Ginger couldn’t believe the words that slipped from her lips as her body continued to change. Her skin tightened over her newfound muscles, the sensation a delicious mix of pain and pleasure. The tingling grew more intense, moving down her spine and into her legs, making them longer and more powerful. She watched in the mirror as her thighs bulged and her calves grew defined, every muscle fiber standing out in sharp relief.

Her ears grew pointed and sensitive, picking up sounds she’d never noticed before. The distant hum of the city, the rustle of clothes as Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and the unmistakable sound of his breathing growing heavier. She could feel his eyes on her, and it was as if they were caressing her skin, setting it alight with a burning need for his touch. Her nose twitched, and she caught a whiff of his arousal, the musky scent making her heart race even faster.

Her eyes zeroed in on the bulge in Sam's pants, and she felt a strange power surge through her. The room grew hotter, the air thick with the tension that crackled between them. Ginger’s breath came in short, ragged gasps, and she could feel a wetness growing between her legs, her panties now sticking to her swollen sex. She was aware of her own beauty in a way she never had been before, and she knew that Sam couldn’t resist her.

The smell of his desire was intoxicating, a heady aroma that seemed to fill the room. She took a step closer, her hips swaying in a way she had never allowed them to before. The pain in her hand had become a pulsing beat, matching the rhythm of her own heart. She reached out and took his hand, her eyes never leaving his, and led him to her bed. His eyes were wide with shock, but he followed her without protest, as if under a spell.

Ginger felt her own body responding to his touch, her skin growing more sensitive with every brush of his fingers. Her breasts heaved with every breath, the fabric of her shirt now stretched to its limits. She watched as his gaze followed the movement, his pupils dilating even further. She felt a smug satisfaction at the power she now wielded over him, a stark contrast to the helplessness she had felt just hours ago.

Sam's hand hovered over her chest, and she could feel the warmth of his palm even before he made contact. His breath hitched as he finally touched her, his thumb brushing over the peak of one breast. The sensation was electric, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her core. Her knees buckled slightly, and she leaned into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips. His eyes never left hers, the intensity of his gaze making her feel exposed, yet somehow seen for the first time.

The air grew thick with their mingling scents, the sweetness of her arousal and the musk of his desire. Ginger could hear the rapid thud of Sam’s heart, the erratic beat matching the tempo of her own. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, the warmth of his skin beckoning her closer. Every inch of her was alive with sensation, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation.

Her eyes locked onto Sam’s, and she could see the hunger in them, the need that mirrored her own. His hand trailed down her arm, the calluses on his fingers sending a delicious shiver up her spine. She watched his pupils dilate further, his gaze dropping to her mouth, and she knew he wanted to kiss her. To claim her. And she wanted it too, with a ferocity that surprised even herself.

The scent of his arousal grew stronger, filling her nostrils with a heady musk that made her core throb with need. She could hear the quickening of his breath, feel the heat radiating from his body as he stepped closer. It was intoxicating, a siren's call that she couldn’t resist. Her hand reached up to cradle his face, pulling him down to her, her heart hammering in her chest like a drum.

The moment their lips met, it was as if a dam had burst. The kiss was explosive, a conflagration of passion that consumed them both. Sam’s arms wrapped around her, his hands exploring her newfound curves with a desperate hunger that matched her own. Ginger’s skin was a canvas of sensation, each caress setting her alight with pleasure. Her body felt alive in a way it never had before, every nerve ending singing with a symphony of desire.

Her nose twitched again, the scent of his arousal now so potent it was almost overwhelming. It was a heady mix of musk and sweat, a pheromonal beacon that drew her closer. She could feel his cock, thick and hard, pressing against her stomach, demanding release. The ache in her hand had transformed into a throbbing need that traveled through her entire being, a hunger that could only be satiated by the taste of him.

Her tongue flicked out, tasting the salty sweetness of his skin as she traced the line of his jaw with a gentle nip. Sam groaned, the sound vibrating through her body, setting every nerve ending alight. His hands slid up her back, his strong, calloused fingers digging into her flesh. The sensation was exquisite, a delicious blend of pain and pleasure that had her arching into him, her breasts pushing against his chest.

Her heightened sense of smell picked up on the scent of his desire, a potent aphrodisiac that made her head spin. It was intoxicating, a siren's song that grew louder with every beat of her heart. She could feel the heat of his arousal through the fabric of their clothes, a testament to the power she had over him.

The sound of his breath grew more ragged, the air in the room seeming to thicken with every shallow intake. Ginger's own breathing matched his, as if they were two animals caught in the throes of an ancient mating dance. Her body responded to his proximity, her skin a live wire of sensation that begged for his touch.

Her eyes narrowed, her heightened vision taking in every detail of Sam's face. The way his pupils dilated with desire, the flush that spread from his cheeks to his neck, and the slight tremble of his bottom lip as she traced it with her teeth. She could smell his arousal, a potent scent that seemed to coat the very air they breathed. It was a heady mix of musk and sweat, a scent so primal it made her want to purr with need.

The fabric of Sam’s jeans grew damp as her hand brushed against the bulge in his pants, and she could feel his cock pulse with every beat of his heart. The sensation was exquisite, a silent communication that told her exactly what he wanted. She felt a thrill of power, a delicious sense of control that she had never felt before.

Her heightened hearing picked up the sound of his racing heart, the wetness of their kisses, and the faint rustle of their clothes as they moved together. The symphony of desire grew louder with every passing second, drowning out the world outside their bubble of passion. Ginger’s body was a maelstrom of sensation, her newfound strength and agility guiding her every move.

Her eyes, now a fiery gold, locked onto the pulsing vein in Sam’s neck, the lifeblood of his desire beckoning to her. She felt a hunger stir within her, a craving that was both terrifying and thrilling. Her fangs elongated, a reminder of the spell that had transformed her. She hadn’t noticed before, but now, they were all she could focus on.

Sam’s breath was hot against her neck, his teeth grazing her skin, and she felt her body respond with a tremble. The pressure grew as his teeth scraped against her flesh, and she knew he could feel the pulse of her vein beneath. It was as if her body was begging for his bite, craving the connection that would seal their bond.

Her hand slid down his chest, her fingertips tracing the lines of his muscles before finding the button of his jeans. With a quick flick, she undid them, her hand sliding into his boxers to grasp his cock. It was hot and heavy in her palm, a testament to his desire for her. She stroked him gently at first, watching his eyes roll back in his head with pleasure. His hands tightened on her hips, urging her closer.

Ginger felt a rush of power as she realized she had Sam exactly where she wanted him. She straddled his waist, her knees pressing into the soft mattress on either side of his hips. He was so big, so powerful, and yet she had him at her mercy. With a seductive smile, she guided him to her entrance, her wetness coating his shaft. The anticipation was unbearable, the ache in her core demanding release.

With one swift motion, she sank down onto him, her tight pussy enveloping his length. Sam’s eyes rolled back in his head, a guttural moan escaping his throat. The sensation of his hard cock inside her was unlike anything she’d ever felt. The pain from her transformation had given way to pleasure, and she reveled in the feeling of being filled by him.

Ginger’s body moved on instinct, her hips rocking back and forth in a rhythm that was as old as time itself. Sam’s hands were everywhere, gripping her ass, her hips, her breasts. He was lost in the moment, and she reveled in the power she had over him. Her newfound strength made every thrust feel more powerful, more intense, and she knew he could feel it too.

With each movement, she could feel the energy from the spell coursing through her, heightening her senses. The scent of their mingled arousal was intoxicating, making her want to devour him whole. Her fangs ached, and she knew the urge to bite was growing stronger. She leaned in, her teeth grazing the soft skin of his neck, feeling the pulse of his vein beneath her lips.

Sam's hands found their way to her breasts, kneading them with a desperation that matched the rhythm of their hips. The sensation was overwhelming, and she couldn’t hold back the loud moan that escaped her. It echoed through the room, a sound that seemed to resonate in the very fabric of reality itself. His own moan grew deeper, his hands moving to her hips to help guide her movements.

With every moan, Ginger felt the power of the transformation coursing through her, fueling her desire and her need to claim Sam. Each stroke of his cock against her walls sent waves of pleasure through her, and she could feel herself getting closer to the edge. The room spun around her, the colors more vivid than she had ever seen them. She threw her head back, her moans growing louder, a symphony of pleasure that seemed to fill the entire space.

Her hips moved faster, her movements more erratic, as she chased the orgasm that was just out of reach. Sam’s grip on her tightened, his own breathing growing more ragged. She could feel his muscles tensing, his body preparing for his release. Ginger knew she had him, knew she had him under her spell. The thrill of it was unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

With a final, powerful thrust, she sank her teeth into his neck. Sam's body tensed, and a strangled cry of pleasure ripped from his throat. The taste of his blood was unlike anything she’d ever experienced, a heady cocktail of life and passion that set her ablaze. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she came, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful. Her body convulsed around him, milking his cock with every pulse of her orgasm.

The room was alive with the sound of their mating, the wet slaps of their bodies coming together melding with their guttural moans. Ginger’s newfound strength allowed her to ride Sam with a fervor that bordered on the bestial, her hips moving in a frenetic dance that seemed to shake the very foundation of the apartment. His own cries grew louder as he matched her rhythm, his hands clutching at her ass, his nails digging into her flesh.

The scent of their union grew stronger, a potent mix of sweat and blood that seemed to feed the transformation. Ginger’s eyes never left Sam’s, the gold in her irises burning with an intensity that seemed almost supernatural. Her nails, now claws, scored lines down his back, leaving trails of crimson that stood out starkly against his pale skin. His own cries grew more desperate, his hips bucking up to meet hers, driving himself deeper inside her.

Ginger’s moans grew louder, filling the room with a cacophony of pleasure that seemed to resonate through her very soul. She could feel the power of the spell building within her, each gasp and whimper a release of energy that seemed to fuel her further. Sam’s eyes widened with a mix of fear and desire as she took his face in her hands, pulling him closer.

With a final, desperate thrust, Sam climaxed, his body shuddering beneath her. His cock pulsed inside her, sending waves of ecstasy crashing through her body. His blood flowed into her mouth, the metallic tang of it mixing with the sweetness of his release. Ginger swallowed greedily, the taste of him a powerful elixir that seemed to complete the transformation.

Her eyes rolled back in her head as the orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, the power of it stealing her breath away. Her body spasmed around him, her muscles tightening and releasing in an endless symphony of pleasure. They collapsed onto the bed, their bodies entwined in a tangle of limbs and passion. Sam’s blood coated her tongue, and she felt a sense of satisfaction that was almost primal.

As the waves of pleasure receded, Ginger pulled away, her teeth retracting and her eyes returning to their usual emerald hue. She looked down at Sam, his body now limp and still beneath hers, his chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths. His eyes fluttered open, and she watched as confusion clouded his gaze. She watched as he passed out on her bed.

Ginger awoke to the sound of her alarm. Her body felt sore in places she hadn't felt before, and she was momentarily disoriented. She sat up, her head swimming with memories of the night that had just passed. But as she looked down at herself, she realized that she was back in her plain, geeky body. Her breasts were no longer swollen, and the fiery red hair had retreated back to its usual mousy brown. The pain in her hand was gone, and she was once again bespectacled. It was as if the whole thing had been a dream.

But then she saw him—Sam, sprawled out on her bed, his shirt hiked up, revealing a trail of teeth marks and scratches on his back. The reality of the situation crashed over her like a cold shower. It hadn’t been a dream. Her heart raced as she took in the sight of him, his handsome face relaxed in sleep, the smell of sex still lingering in the air.

Ginger’s cheeks flushed as she recalled the feral passion of their encounter, the way she had claimed him, marked him as hers. Her eyes fell to the crimson mark on her hand, a stark reminder of the spell that had transformed her. The giggle that had bubbled up in her chest died in her throat, replaced by a low growl of desire that seemed to resonate through her very bones. It was a thrilling thought—every full moon, she’d become this all-powerful creature of beauty and passion, capable of ensnaring any man she chose.

[comingyourlugubriousness]

"Oh geez I'm so clumsy; how embarrassing! Huh, oh! You'll help me up? T-thank you!"

A BELLE OF DA BALL Yume for @starry-night-rose's Glimmering Soirée! I saw a lot of people doing this event and have been wanting to draw for it for awhile. Unfortunately, I've been sick the past week.

I went for a more femme design since my last two designs for Yume were more masculine; plus I just think dresses are more fun to draw. Heavily inspired by Cinderella's dress with my own takes.

During the event Yume isn't trying to be the belle of the ball themselves (that would be mortifying), they are actually heavily advocating for their brother Yuuta! (@bunnwich)

They are assisting the Prince's with their duties (mostly Deuce while avoiding Azul) while keeping and eye on Grim to make sure he's acting right! They're also taking pictures of everyone in their fancy clothes; partially bc Crowley told them too and partially for their own scrapbook.

VOICE LINES UNDER THE CUT:

Summon: You my friend, will be da belle of da ball!

Groovy: Everyone here tonight… don’t they kind of look like stars in the night sky…Hey! Don’t laugh! Haha! Was that too cheesy? 

Set Home: We’re all bedazzled up!

Home Idle: Azul tried to get me to sign some contract in order to” secure my brother's win”. Pff! Nice try, four eyes; do you think I’ve learned nothing?

Idle 2: When I walked up to Deuce and he gave me a big fancy greeting! He was so proud of himself; I didn’t have the heart to tell him he curtseyed at me…He’s not really cut out for princely stuff…

Idle 3: *whining* Kalim! Please don’t keep making me dance in these shoes! My feet are killing me *fake sob* who makes glass shoes anyway…

Idle Groovy:  Malleus came up to ask what was wrong with his Tamagotchi and everyone in the room gave us a wide berth. Is it that serious? He’s just some guy?

Home Login: Oh man…I don’t wanna think about how long it’s gonna take to clean all this glitter up. 

Tap: The Royal Sword Academy students keep coming up to greet me oh so politely. Something about it kinda gets on my nerves…

Tap 2: Hey, didja see Grim’s vest? I made it myself. It took me hours to bedazzle the whole thing!

Tap 3: Ugh…I feel like everyone's looking at me…maybe this outfit was a bad idea…

Tap 4: Hey, if you see Vil; don’t tell him I’m not voting for him. It’s nothing personal…! 

Tap 5: *sigh* I need a break. Hey, do you wanna go sit on the balcony with me? I’d prefer the company of the stars right now.

Tap Groovy: Oh! Wait right there! Let me get a picture of you in your outfit! You look amazing! Ready? Cheese!

Here is some sketchy draft for the dress too:

[avastrasposts]

A Baker's Dozen - Eleven**

A collection of fun and fluffy one shots set in the same bakery. Twelve Pedro boys, twelve stories, twelve recipes.

Hello!

The second to last visitor to the bakery is here and I can hardly believe it! Eleven weeks of Pedro boys have flown past and I've had so much fun with them!

So before we get started with number eleven, this series was meant to be all fluff, but then this Pedro boy arrived and just really got out of hand and I had nothing to do with it, he just took over!

So I had to ask my friend @morallyinept if I could use her very handy Scoville Smut Rating to issue some warnings. Thank you, Jett!

Series Master List

This chapter is rated:

🌶 - "Don't hurt me, cadejo." 

Scoville Level 15,000. The Donis Cadejo Hot Sauce. (Buy the sauce here) The story contains mildly spicy smut. Tingles left on your tongue.

The week’s been slower than usual, as it always is in February, post-holiday blues setting in, everyone trying to be extra healthy and save some money. No time to be indulging in sweet things. Your shop does fine though, planning and prepping for Valentine’s Day and the upcoming wedding season. 

But the slower hours in the shop makes you take note of the black car that’s been parked across the street all day. Nothing odd about that, but there’s also been someone sitting in the car all day. You’ve been glancing over as you go about your business, studying the man behind the wheel as he makes notes and phone calls, focused on something further down the street, out of your view. From the way he’s dressed, a crisp, well ironed, pale blue shirt, you’re guessing he’s an agent for some agency, or maybe a very well dressed private eye. He’s not doing a very good job though, he sticks out like a sore thumb on this street of small businesses. When he glances over at you just before noon, you give him a quick smile, to hide the fact that you’ve been staring at the way he’s been rubbing his large hand over his chin for the past five minutes. He locks eyes with you, surprise flitting across his face, before he gives you a crooked smile in return. 

This is the beginning of a dance; you glance over to find him looking at you rather than the street in front of him, you raise your eyebrows in challenge and he seems to chuckle, looking away. You study his strong nose, the dark curls brushing over his forehead as he makes more notes, and he catches you staring when he looks over, one eyebrow arching in a questioning look and you shrug with a smile, going back to the cake you’re decorating. 

It’s late in the afternoon when you notice movement in the street, a second car parking behind the first and a man getting out and walking over to the first car. Quick words are exchanged, you steal glances from the corner of your eye as you finish up an order for tomorrow. Bending down to put the order away, you hear the bell on your front door chime. 

“Hi, I thought I’d stop by and say hello properly,” the man from the car is standing in front of the counter with a small smile as you straighten up. 

“Hi,” you say, returning his smile as you take the chance to get a better look at him for the first time. He’s taller than you expected, and broad, so much broader than the side view you’ve had all day indicated. The light blue dress shirt is stretching over his shoulders and arms and you immediately decide that he must be an agent, no private eye is ever this fit, not that you have much experience, but still. 

“I just wanted to introduce myself and explain what I’m doing,” the man says, nodding over at his car on the other side of the street, “And I hope I can count on your discretion too.”

“Uuhmm, sure,” you say, looking at him as he pulls a badge from the pocket of his suit trousers, “I was kinda assuming that you’re on some sort of stake out.” 

“That obvious, huh?” the man chuckles, showing you his ID.

“Yeah, your sleek car and nice shirt gave it away a little,” you smile, “and the way you sat out there all day, I’m pretty sure every business owner on the street has spotted you.” 

“I’ll need to fix that for tomorrow then,” he smiles, “I’m special agent Dave York, I’m with the CIA, and we’ve got surveillance on an apartment further down the street. I can’t tell you what it’s about but you don’t have to worry, it’s nothing dangerous for the neighborhood.” 

“That’s good to know,” you reply, “And you’re welcome in for coffee or something to snack on whenever you want,” you thumb at the coffee machine behind you, “I’d offer delivery service but that might be a little bit too obvious.” 

He chuckles at that and you notice the dimple on his clean shaven cheek, a slight five o’clock shadow indicating that it’s been a while since he got up and shaved this morning. 

“I’d love a coffee right now, if you don’t mind,” he says and you point at the menu. 

“What’ll it be? 

“The dark roast, black, please,” he says, “You’ve got a good selection.”

“Thanks, people mainly buy bread and cakes, the coffee machine is mainly for me and a handful of regulars who like good coffee, we like trying different beans and roasts,” you throw him a smile over your shoulder as you prepare his coffee to go. 

“I’ll have to become a regular then, keep your coffee business going,” he taps his card on the machine as you hand him the cup. 

“I just realized I know who you are,” you say, the penny finally dropping, “One of my regulars, Mrs Levinson, knows your mom. Mrs Levinson bought a Lemon Meringue Pie for her a while back.” 

“Oh yeah, those two are as thick as thieves, always trying to set me up on blind dates,” he chuckles, taking a sip of the coffee, “I’ve been blaming my workload to avoid them." He raises the cup to you with a smile, “Great coffee, I’ll definitely come back."

“If I don’t spot you, I’ll know you’ve done a better job of hiding,” you tell him and he laughs, giving you a cheesy thumbs up as he leaves.

You watch him take long strides across the street to his car, the coffee still in his hand, and just as he gets in the car, he turns and looks back at you, a smile cracking across his face as he raises his hand in a wave. 

You do spot him the next day, but you are keeping an eye out for him, glancing out to see if he’s arrived. He parks a different car across the street this time, a beat up, rusty looking banger, and he’s in a ratty looking t-shirt and a beanie pulled low over his forehead. Much less ‘agent on a stakeout’ this time, but you still glance over at him from time to time, far too often in fact. And you bite back a smile when you catch him glancing over at you too, catching your eye on a few occasions as he winks. 

Half way through the day he’s relieved, and he steps out of his car, coming over to the bakery again. 

“Hi,” he says, giving you a dimpled smile as he pulls off his beanie, “Did I blend in better today?” 

“Yeah, better,” you smile back at him as he comes up to the counter, “The distressed t-shirt was a good choice.” 

“I had to dig it out from the bottom of some box left over from when I moved,” he holds up the front of it and studies the suspicious looking stain on the front, “I swear this is not my usual casual look.” 

Holding up the front has resulted in the hem of the t-shirt lifting up over the edge of his pants and you can’t help but glance down as he flashes a few inches of skin, his sweat pants sitting low on his hips. The trail of dark hair disappearing beneath the waistband has you momentarily distracted as you follow it down to- 

“I’ll take your word for it,” you say, snapping your eyes back up to his, but not before he notices, giving you a small smirk, “NIce sweatpants.” 

“Thanks,” he chuckles, “not as old as the t-shirt, but still not my best look, I promise.”

“I don’t mind that much,” you smirk back and he flashes a crooked grin, his eyebrow cocked, before he looks up at the coffee menu behind you and tilts his head to the side.

“What do you recommend today? I’m feeling adventurous,” he says, looking down at you again with a smile, “blame the sweatpants.” 

“A single espresso shot vanilla hazelnut latte with salted caramel and whipped cream on top? I usually add some cookie crumbles too,” you say and Dave’s face falls, his eyebrows pulling together in a concerned look. 

“Ah…uhh…” he stutters, rubbing his hand over his jaw, clearly looking for a polite way to decline your suggestion and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing at his panic, but he catches the mirth in your eyes. 

“Holy shit, you’re kidding,” he gasps out, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow as you start giggling. 

“Sorry, I had to check if you’re serious about your coffee,” you wink at him as he shakes his head and puffs a relieved breath. 

“Had me worried,” he says, “I thought I’d have to drink one of those to be allowed to stay a regular.” 

“No, I think I’d have to kick you out if you did order one of those,” you smile, picking up the bag of new beans that just arrived, “Here, smell these, I just got them so I haven’t even tried them yet.” 

Dave takes a deep breath and nods with a satisfied look, “That’s nice, can I try that?” 

“Sure, I’ll make us one each. Single or double?” 

“Double, please, this stake out thing is kicking my ass,” he says, leaning against the counter as you start the process of grinding the beans. 

“Do you want some cake or something else too?” you ask, nodding at your selection. 

“No, I’m good,” he says, “It all looks really good, but not today.” He does let his eyes drift over the cakes on display though and you smile to yourself, you know the type, sooner or later he’ll cave and get something as a treat no matter how strong his resolve it. 

“Here you go,” you say, passing him his espresso, in a cup this time, “let me know what you think, if it’s good I might give it a permanent spot on the menu.” 

You both take a few sips of the coffee in silence, humming at the flavors. 

“It’s good,” Dave finally says, “Really good, I wouldn’t complain if it was a regular on the menu.” 

“I agree, I’m going to order more,” you reply, draining the cup as he pulls his wallet out of his pants. 

“Let me pay for both coffees,” he says, holding out his card, “as a thank you, for letting me come in and disturb you.” 

“You’re not disturbing, Dave,” you smile, “you can come in whenever you want.” 

“Even if I’m not on a stake out?” he asks, a small smile playing around his mouth and you feel your cheeks heat up. 

“Especially when you’re not on a stake out,” you smile back and his dimple makes an appearance as his smile widens. 

“I’ll remember that,” he says, tapping his card to pay for both coffees, “I’ll see you tomorrow though, more stake out.” 

“See you tomorrow,” you say, returning the wave he gives you as he leaves. 

He’s back the next morning, already sitting in the car as you come out into the shop to open up for the day. He looks tired, yawning big and rubbing his hand over his eyes as he leans his head against the headrest. You glance over at him while you work and serve the small morning crowd, but he doesn’t look back at you. Saying goodbye to the last customer you look over at the car again, Dave’s head is flopped to the side, mouth hanging open and eyes closed, sound asleep. The sight is adorable, the big CIA agent clearly exhausted if he’s passed out on the job. You grab your travel mug, the one you keep filled with coffee through the morning, and give it a quick clean. Filling it up with a triple espresso shot from the beans you’d had with him yesterday, you screw on the top and exit the shop. He stirs as your shoes scuff over the asphalt, jerking up as you lightly tap the window. 

“Hey, want some coffee?” you ask, holding up the travel mug and he gives you such a look of relief and gratitude that it melts your heart. 

“Thanks,” he says once he’s cranked down the window in the old car, “I’m dead here, can’t keep my eyes open.” 

“Doesn’t do you much good on a stake out,” you say, “drop off the mug when you leave, and just wave at me if you want more coffee, I’ll come over with a refill.” 

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver,” he smiles, and you smile back, giving him a wave as you cross the street to the bakery. 

Dave stays a bit more alert through the rest of the day, and gets relieved earlier than usual. You smile when he comes into the shop. 

“Any luck with whatever you’re waiting for?” you ask as he hands you the travel mug. 

“No, and we’re running out of time, this might be a waste of resources,” he says, shaking his head and yawning widely, “I’m sorry, I was up late last night, working on this and then I couldn’t fall asleep, too much stuff on my mind.” 

“Go home, Dave,” you say, shooing him out of your shop with a smile, “You’re no good to anyone when you’re like this.” 

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he says, “But I like our chats, makes this stake out more enjoyable than any other I’ve been on,” he suddenly looks a little bit shy as he’s half turned towards the door, a small smile as he looks back at you. 

“I like our chats too,” you say, butterflies erupting in the pit of your belly, and for a few seconds you’re just ogling each other like a couple of fools, both too shy to say anything else. Dave clears his throat, a small chuckling sound, and looks at his shoes before he glances up. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” 

“See you tomorrow, Dave,” you give him a wave and a small smile, biting your lip to hold back the bigger one that’s being pushed up by the butterflies as he returns your smile and leaves. 

But the next morning you don’t see his car, or any other car that might be a covert CIA operation and you wonder if the stake out got canceled. The day passes slowly, the usual February slump slower than usual without Dave outside your window. Realizing you don’t have his number, you can only hope he’ll come back even though he’s not on a stake out. And when you finally see him the next afternoon, crossing the street at a slight jog to avoid a car, you feel yourself smiling before he’s even spotted you. When he pushes open the door he gives you a wide grin. 

“Hey, how’s it going?” he asks, coming up to the counter as you put away your phone. 

“Hi,” you smile at him, thanking your past self for changing the stained t-shirt and apron into something cuter, “I’m good, but things are slow today so I’m glad you’re here, it’s been kinda boring without the stake out to distract me.” 

He chuckles at that, looking out onto the spot where his car had been for the past three days. 

“Yeah, orders came yesterday to can it, another team has picked up a hotter lead so we’ve been working on that. But that place doesn't have any nice bakeries nearby, so it's a complete loss,” he says with a smile that makes your insides liquid. 

“So you’re actually here when not on a stake out?” you tease him and he laughs. 

“Told you I’d be back,” he says, pushing the sleeves of the sweatshirt he’s wearing up over his thick forearms and crossing his arms, scanning the coffee menu. “Should I go for another one of those nice beans, or should I be adventurous?” he asks. 

You give him a crooked smile, tilting your head like you’re assessing him and he raises an eyebrow in question at you. 

“What do you have in mind? That look is making me nervous.” 

“I’m thinking….” you begin, “the regular coffee, but…you get a snack too, one of the cakes.” 

Dave gives you a grin in response and begins to scan the cakes, “The carrot cake,” he says, pointing to one of the smallest slices covered in white cream cheese frosting.

“Good choice,” you smile, “it’s a best seller and I made it this morning.” You plate the slice and start making the coffee for him.

“It’s kinda healthy, right?” he asks, eyeing the carrot cake with suspicion, “It’s got carrots and all?” 

“I mean, it’s still got sugar and fat in it,” you chuckle, “but it’s made with vegetable oil and not butter, so there is that.” 

You bring the coffee to the counter and start making a coffee for yourself as Dave picks up the plate. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” you sputter out as you watch him scrape the frosting off the cake with the spoon, “That’s the best part!” 

“It’s just fat and sugar,” he says, putting the dollop of frosting on the side of the plate, “I’m trying to stay healthy.” 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Dave,” you smirk, “if you don’t eat that frosting on the cake like the baker intended, I don’t think this friendship is going to last.” You point to yourself and raise your eyebrows in a challenge. 

 “You know, I usually don’t eat sweet stuff, it’s the job,” he says, “I need to stay fit for it.” He’s toying with the cake, the intonation heavy on the 'eat'. He's not looking at you, but there’s a smirk playing around the corners of his mouth. 

“So indulge a little, it’ll be worth it,” you smile and he looks up at you, his smirk suddenly changing into something more challenging as he seems to evaluate you in silence for several long seconds.

“Only if you’re on the menu,” he says, his dark eyes pinning you in place while he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, “Are you on the menu?” 

The question is direct as he slowly raises his eyebrows, the intention clear.

You feel your brain grind to a halt, Dave’s dark brown eyes are boring into you as you slowly inhale, you feel like he’s flicked a switch and turned on his professional side, but he’s not using it to interrogate you. Instead he’s using it to put pressure on you, to get you to tell him what you want. 

What he wants. 

Glancing down at the plate still in his hand, he swipes his finger through the frosting and slowly rounds the counter, coming up to where you’re still standing frozen by the coffee machine. 

“Are you?” he says, repeating his question and slowly bringing his finger to his mouth, sucking the frosting off with a pop. 

The tip of your tongue comes out to lick across your top lip and Dave glances down at your mouth, following the movement. Taking a step closer, he’s almost touching you now, you can feel the scent of his cologne wash over you as his eyes come back up to yours. 

“I’d really like it, if you were on the menu,” he says, his voice low and dark, “but if you’re not, tell me, and I’ll leave.” 

You swallow, still transfixed by his dark eyes on you, the way he’s looking at you, like he’s trying to read you and succeeding. You slowly nod your head yes. 

Dave inhales softly, putting down the plate, “Use your words. Tell me I can kiss you,” he says, the frustration clearly thrumming just below the surface of his low tones as his breath skates across your cheek, his hands hovering just inches from your body, ready to grab as soon as you give him permission, “You’ve been driving me fucking crazy all week but I couldn’t do anything.” 

A shiver runs through your body, your hand shaking as you put your coffee cup down, slowly putting both your hands on the front of his gray t-shirt, feeling the bunched up muscles flex under your palms as you slide them up to his shoulders. Dave is watching you intently, a small crease between his eyebrows, his fingers twitching by your waist. 

“Not here,” you say, dropping your hands to your sides, and side stepping him. He turns as you slip out past him, quickly walking the front door and locking it, flipping the ‘Back in five minutes’ sign. When you turn back, he’s still standing by the coffee machine and you pass him. 

“Less nosy neighbors in here,” you say, holding out your hand to him. 

He reacts in a heartbeat, taking your hand and crowding you as he pushes you further into the kitchen, out of sight. He lets go of your hand and grabs your waist, the other landing on your neck, his large hand easily spanning across it and up, cupping your cheek as he walks you backwards. The cool metal of the walk-in fridge hits your back and Dave’s towering over you, bending his face down so that his strong nose brushes against yours, his eyes almost black under his eyebrows, pulled together tight, and the hand at your waist bunching up your shirt. 

“Now?” he husks and you nod. 

“Yes, now.” 

His mouth is hot when it reaches yours in a flash, he’s pushing you further up against the fridge as he angles his head to have more. There’s an edge of desperation to the way he holds you. The hand on your cheek keeps you where he needs you as he licks the seam of your lips. When you part them, his tongue is eager and needy, a groan escaping from somewhere deep inside of him and you pant into his mouth as his sounds fire up your brain. Heat shoots through your body like rocket fuel ignited, the cool metal behind you a sharp contrast to the solid warmth of Dave’s body in front when he pulls you closer with his hand on your waist, tugging you into him. 

It’s messy, tongues and teeth fighting for control, your hands in his hair, his thick fingers grabbing your neck, his thigh between your legs. There’s no hiding the arousal coursing through you both as you moan at the way he rubs over your core, his low groans mixed in when he rolls his hard length into your hip. 

He tangles his fingers into your hair, pulling back your head and trailing wet kisses across your throat, sucking a mark into where shoulder meets neck, moving up again, his teeth gently tugging on your earlobe before you gasp when he nips at the soft skin just underneath. 

“I’ve been fucking dreaming about how you’d sound when I did this,” he growls when you moan loudly into the silent kitchen, “sound so pretty, so fucking sweet.” His hand on your waist tightens, he’s pulling you down onto his leg, rocking into you as you clamor for a grip, tugging at his hair, loud, satisfied groan coming from Dave. 

“I wanna hear what you sound like when you come,” he mutters, moving his mouth up to yours again, biting your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth, tongue coming out to caress it, taste it, before he lets go.

Pulling back a little, he looks down at you. You meet his dark eyes, lust clouding them as you gasp at the way his thick thigh creates just enough friction to make you convulse under his firm grip. 

“So fucking sweet,” he mumbles, a tone to his voice like he’s been craving this, “always looking at me from the bakery, always smelling so good, so tempting. Been wanting to do this since the first day, just get you in here and make you come all over my leg, hear you say my name.” 

You try to unscramble your brain, it’s hazy with arousal, the coil that he’s wound so tightly about to snap. But all you can feel is the tell tale tingling that’s started in your core and you close your eyes, the feeling radiating out from where his thigh rubs against you. 

“No, keep them open for me, baby,” Dave growls, “keep your eyes on me,” his voice forcing you to look up at him as it hits. 

“Dave…” you gasp, “Pl-please, Dave…” 

It shoots through your system like electricity, your legs closing around his, your skin burning as he kisses you, swallowing down your cries of his name as he keeps moving his leg, working you through the high until your muscles finally relax. 

He holds you up, his arm around your waist now, as his kisses soften. Soft movements across your lips, his tongue gently teasing yours until he pulls back a little, pressing his lips against yours, foreheads touching as you take a deep breath and you can feel him smile against you.

He moves his leg back, bending down and grabbing hold of your thighs, picking you up like you weigh nothing. With your arms around his neck, you hold on until he sets you down on the workbench, his hard erection is pressed tight between you but he seems to ignore it. 

“You ok?” he asks quietly, bending down and pressing a small kiss to the side of your neck, “seemed like you needed that.” His chuckle is low and amused as you sigh deeply. 

“That’s how you indulge?” you ask, caressing the back of his head, raking your fingers through his thick hair. 

“Better for your body than that carrot cake,” he smirks, pulling back a bit so that he can look at you while he cups your jaw and strokes his thumb over cheek. 

“I told you, this friendship won’t last if you don’t eat the frosting,” you give him a small smile, your body still humming. 

Dave gives you a smug look, “I don’t want your friendship, I want your frosting,” he says with a grin, tugging gently at your chin so that he can press his lips to yours and slip his tongue inside before your addled brain can come up with a comeback. 

The kiss is languid and slow, Dave takes his time, holding you back as you try to pull him closer, your hands still in his hair. After several long minutes he reaches up and untangles your fingers and pulls them down to your sides. 

“I’m leaving now,” he says against your mouth, his lips brushing over yours, “And I want you to be good. I have to go take care of something on that case. Close the shop when you’re done, go home, I’ll come by later.” There’s a promise in his low tone, in the way he nips at your bottom lip one last time and his fingers dig into your hips as he moves around your neck.

“Listen,” he whispers, his mouth close to your ear, “I’m not done with you yet.” 

Part Twelve

Series Master List

Ok, so that got spicier then intended right? I don't know what to say, Dave just stepped in and took over.... blame him or thank him!

For the cake, this recipe uses pecans but I prefer walnuts but you can also leave them out if you want too. But it really is a very good cake...

Taglist: @harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3  @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @oberynslady @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @thewiigers  

[ladelinee]

Summary: Elvis is ignoring you, so you decide to go out on Halloween without him. Then, something unexpected happens 🫢

Author's note: I divided the fic into two parts as it was going to be very long. I'm also not 100% satisfied with the second part, but I hope you enjoy it! 🥰

🦇Vampire in Disguise 🖤

[Part 1/2]

Were you acting like a spoiled child? Of course not!

You were just ready to let loose; it was Halloween, for heaven’s sake. Your favorite night of the year.

Today, especially today, Elvis had been incredibly busy and had spent most of the day ignoring you, or at least that’s how it felt.

“Y/n, are you really sure about this?” Shirley, Joe’s girlfriend, asked with a note of caution in her voice.

“Let’s go,” you cut her off. You were resolute. It didn’t matter if you were Elvis Presley’s girlfriend. Tonight, you’d wear a mask and hope no one recognized you. The decision was made. End of story.

You were tired of everyone telling you what to do and what not to do. So, you adjusted your dress: a tight, dark one with touches of red lace, matching your crimson lips. The vampire costume gave you that dangerous, mysterious look you wanted to project tonight. Shirley was dressed as Tinker Bell, and though she looked adorable, you preferred to be a little more daring.

The warm lights of Graceland gradually faded as you walked away, feeling some kind of adrenaline, freedom, and rebellion with the cool night air brushing against you.

As the two of you walked down the boulevard, something in the distance caught your attention. Even from afar, the thundering music echoed from within its walls, and colorful lights cast dancing shadows on the windows. The venue was secluded, surrounded by dark, dense trees. Its old, weathered brick façade seemed to tell a story of its own, but under the flickering lights, everything appeared distorted.

You didn’t know why, but something about that place caught your attention, compelling you to go there. As you walked, Shirley glanced at you with concern. She knew that Elvis wouldn’t approve of you going somewhere alone, even though she was with you.

When you entered, the buzz and energy of the place swallowed you whole. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol, cheap perfume, and a touch of something mysterious that you could almost feel on your skin. The dance floor swayed with vibrant music, packed with masked people, their faces hidden behind bright colors that mixed in the dim light. But there was something more, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. That started to make you uncomfortable, like a shadow lurking among the laughter and excited screams.

The decorations were over the top, with fake cobwebs hanging from every corner and glowing pumpkins casting strange shadows on the walls. Plastic skeletons, bats hanging from the ceiling, and a dim light that barely illuminated the edges of the room.

“What do you think, Shirley? Not a bad party, huh?” You shouted in her ear, almost unable to talk over the loud music.

Shirley glanced around and gave you a half-hearted nod.

You walked swiftly through the shadows, letting the atmosphere draw you in. But you couldn’t shake the slight discomfort, that emptiness Elvis had left inside you. After a while, the party seemed perfect, but the deeper you went, the atmosphere shifted.

Something felt off. The way some people looked at you, the way their eyes followed you, glowing under the strobe lights.

You shook your head. “Stop imagining things, it’s just Halloween.”

You ordered a drink, something light to start with, but as the glass neared your lips, a knot formed in your stomach. The insistent stares wouldn’t leave you alone, and instead of the thrill you had felt upon arriving, a growing sense of danger started creeping in. The shadows of the people around you seemed to stretch unnaturally, moving at odd angles, and the laughter, which had seemed fun at first, now sounded sharp, almost mocking.

“Where’s Shirley?” you asked yourself. You scanned the crowd, but the dance floor was packed, and every time you thought you saw her, she disappeared behind another costumed figure. The beat of the music, which had made you want to dance earlier, now felt chaotic, and disjointed, as if everything was about to fall apart.

Suddenly, someone got too close. A man wearing a wolf mask, whom you hadn’t noticed before. His smile beneath the mask was unsettling, too wide, as if he knew something you didn’t. You felt his hand on your arm, at first, just a casual touch, but then his grip tightened. Too tight.

“You shouldn’t be alone, sweetheart. How about a dance?” he said in a gruff voice, too close to your ear. The smell of alcohol on his breath made your stomach turn. You tried to pull away, but his hand didn’t budge.

“No, thanks. I’m waiting for someone” you replied, trying to keep calm.

But the man didn’t back off. If anything, his hold became more persistent, and now his body blocked your view of any escape. Your heart pounded in your chest, panic rising in your throat, and the crowd, which had seemed chaotic but harmless, now felt suffocating, claustrophobic.

Where the hell was Shirley?

You were about to scream when something shifted. The atmosphere paused as if an invisible wave of silence had swept through the room. A chill ran down your spine. You sensed the presence before you saw it: a dark energy radiating from a tall figure that had just entered.

He emerged from the shadows, his imposing silhouette outlined under the flickering lights. He was dressed in black, with a long cloak that grazed the floor, flowing around him as though it had a life of its own, and a mask that covered the upper half of his face, leaving only his mouth exposed. It was a vampire costume, but not just any costume. There was something dangerous about him, something real. As he moved, some people stepped aside, whispering and murmuring to one another.

It was Elvis.

And he seemed furious, really furious.

You recognized him immediately, despite the costume. His stance, his confident stride. But what stood out the most was the aura he gave, it was as if the air around him had grown denser, darker. He looked directly at you, his eyes piercing through the mask, and in that instant, you knew you had made a mistake by coming here.

“Let her go” Elvis commanded, his deep voice cutting through the music like thunder. It wasn’t a suggestion; it was an order.

The man in the wolf mask, who had seemed defiant just moments before, stepped back. Panic flashed in his eyes as he released your arm immediately. He didn’t even dare look at you, just dropped his head and disappeared into the crowd.

Elvis didn’t say anything else. He approached you, his presence wrapping around you, making you feel both safe and vulnerable. There was no trace of the usual smile he reserved for you. His eyes, even behind the mask, were serious, and intense.

“The party’s over. We’re leaving.” Elvis stated.

He took you by the wrist, his grip firm but not painful, guiding you decisively toward the exit of that mansion, which now felt even more sinister with every step you took. He didn’t look at you, his focus solely on getting you out. Outside, the cold night air hit you hard, clearing the dizziness you’d started to feel from the alcohol and the suffocating atmosphere of the party.

When you reached the car, Elvis opened the door for you without a word, his jaw tight, his eyes still hidden behind the mask. You got in without question, sitting in the seat as he slammed the door shut, a little harder than necessary. He quickly slid into the driver’s seat, and in an instant, the engine roared to life. The lights of the party faded into the distance as the car sped away.

Part 2 here!

[justsalpals]

I always knew about Stede's self-centeredness and lack of empathy (or more accurately: lack of thought/consideration) for those around him. It was a part of the character, often played for laughs, and always seemed born of a cheerful ignorance and inability to see outside himself originating from his life of privilege rather than any greed or selfishness.

I assumed a major part of the story would be him growing as a person and learning what it really meant to be a captain. How to care for and look out for the crew. It seemed so engrained into the show's concept, before Ed even showed up, that it never once occurred to me that he just. Wouldn't.

There are examples all over the show, but there's an example that cut me far deeper than the rest. That completely changes how much leeway I was willing to give the character, and made me genuinely so mad for the crew.

You guessed it. It's about Ed, the complete disregard of the crew's wishes and boundaries, and him proving his own hypocrisy and how he's completely willing to manipulate and disregard what I'd thought was a core tenant to his character (ie: "talking it through" meeting others with kindness and understanding, ect.)

It's about how the crew voted Ed to be banished, and Stede invited him back the very same night. It's about "one night" suddenly becoming an extended stay. It's about Stede actually fucking shushing people voicing their concerns and feelings during the apology. It's about what a big deal they made about the probation compromise, Ed in a sack and bell until the crew was comfortable with him again and (once again) Ed literally being back in his leathers 24 hours later. (I usually mentally insert at least a few days between episodes, but we know that wasn't the case here because of Lucius and Pete's engagement sex marathon.)

How many of you wanna bet that the crew genuinely got together and decided they were comfortable with Ed again, after he what? Caught one fish with Fang? Or would you rather bet that Ed got bored of humoring them? Because I know where I'd put my money.

And the crew's attitude breaks my heart, the general vibe summed up by Archie shortly after Ed's non-apology. This is just what happens. It's like when she had to fight Jim to death in the storm. This is just how it goes. The people in charge make the rules, and everyone else just has to deal with it.

So much for the new age of piracy, huh? Sounds like Stede fits right in with how it's always been, just dressed up in empty kind words and false promises.

[vulpixisananimal]

"Can you see it from there!!"

(You were all taking a break from walking, it had been a very long day, but! With a bit of luck! You could sleep somewhere that wasn't in a tent! That's why Siffrin, wait, not Siffrin, was up in a tree, having climbed it before anyone even asked.)

"Patience, 'Bella" (Nille replied. She had been comparably fine with the travels.)

"O-oh, right."

(Oh Mirabelle, you should really be used to this by now. You had traveled for what, a whole year before this? You should be used to the long walks and dusty roads.)

(Mal Du Pays jumped off the branch they were hanging from and hopped to the ground with a huff. It tapped its eyes with its fingers and nodded. "I saw it.")

"W-well, if that's the case then we should get going!" (You say, excited. Finally, a nice bed!)

"Hmmmmm, how far away is it though?" (Nille asks.)

(There's a delay before Mal replies, it sighs. It makes two fists and pulls them apart, then makes an x with its arms. "It's far, we should rest.")

"O-oh. . ." (You say, disapointed, b-but, that was ok! One more night out here would be fine!) "You'll be ok with that?"

(It looked at you, nodded, then walked off.)

"pleasant. . ." (Nille said sarcastically, then sighed.) "No, I shouldn't say that."

"I-it's fine, w-we'll get used to it." (You had to admit, Siffrins mental health situation was. . . Complicated. Their memory only got worse, and Mal wasn't exactly easy to work with. Although, it was a small miracle everyone knew sign language already. Either from House of Change classes, defender lessons, looking out for neighbors, or just by Being Odile.)

(You'll get used to it. You and Nille head back to where everyone was resting up to relay the news.)

(Boniface was looking for cool rocks, Odile had found a place to sit in the shade and read, and Ramos and Isabeau where chatting about something. Mal had already disappeared, probably into the woods to be alone.)

"We'll make it there tomorrow, it looks like!" (You say, finding a place to put down your pack.) "S-sorry."

"No need to apolagize, Mira!" (Isabeau says, cheerfuly.) "There's no problem with one more night in the woods!"

"I like it, personaly." (Ramos replies, crossing their arms.) "I loooove waking up with bugs in my hair, like I have a few hundred new roomates."

(You giggle. Ramos was. . . Interesting. Still not sure what to make of them. No time to worry about that now, though. Time to get ready for a long night. Oh and you were REALLY looking forward to a nice bed too.)

(You perk your head up. What was that?)

"You ok, 'Bell?" (Bonnie asks, they had a pile of rocks in their arms.)

"Huh?" (You turn to them.) "O-oh! Yes just, did you hear anything just now?

"Wha?" (Bonnie squinted at you.) "Bird? You mean the birds?"

"N-no! Like, someone? I think?"

"Nuh uh." (They shook their head.) "It wasn't those two?" (Bonnie gestured to Ramos and Isabeau.)

"N-no! It wasn't them either!"

"Hehe, was it an imaginary friend?"

"No!!!" (You huff. Bonnie finally relents, going to help Nille set up a fire pit for dinner. You go back to setting up your own tent.)

(. . . There it was again. You ignore it.)

(. . .)

(Aaaaaand again?)

(. . . . . . . . . .)

(Ok that's it. You stand up, and start walking to the woods.) "I-I'll be right back!"

"Don't get lost!" (Isa calls back.)

(R-right. . .)

(You couldn't quite place that sound. It sounded like. . . A cry for help, a wail, and someone saying hello all at once. It was weird. You carefuly walked through the wood, trying not to get your dress caught on branches and such.)

(It was getting so dark, the canopy above you got thicker and thicker, blotting out the evening sky. It was amazing, honestly, seeing how the world itself was changed by nothing but trees.)

(The sounds got louder.)

"Hellloooooo?" (You call out. No response.)

(Could someone be in trouble? Or hurt??? Maybe they've been trapped in these woods for weeks! O-or, or maybe it was that stranger again! What was it's name. . ?)

(You walk a little bit more, stopping at a tree for a moment. What a thick forest. You're so glad there was a road, it would be so much slower trying to go through this thicket. Maybe if you stay here for a minute you can find-)

(What's that smell?)

(You sniff the air, there was a weird smell. Wait, was it mint??? No, no it wasn't mint, it was so overwhelming all of a sudden! Why so fast!! It's-)

(Your heart skips a beat. You look up.)

(Sugar!)

(You jump away from the sadness as it crashes down on where you were standing. You draw your sword, thank Change you didn't leave it behind!! Oh no, what do you do!! C-c'mon Mirabelle!! You've fought a lot of sadness' before!! J-just, just take a second and. . .)

"HELP!!! SADNESS!!!" (You yell. Please hurry, friends!!)

(The sadness looks at you, as if it's staring into your soul, before screaming.)

(You wince at the sound, but grip your sword! You strike, yelling as you lash out at the sadness with your weapon. The strike leaves a gash, but nothing more.)

(The sadness tilts its head at you, and screams again, bringing a claw down on you. You block it with your sword.)

"A-ANYONE!!!!"

(You hear someone reply, but it was too far away. Just, j-just a little bit more, Mira! You throw up a hand! Artsy Silent Burst!!!)

(It glances off the sadness, barely doing anything.)

(The sadness growls angrilly, before clapping its hands together and screaming. You wince again, what the Change was that?!? You ready yourself again and-)

(Just then, a blur of white sprints past you, it was Mal!! It brandished its dagger and sliced and stabbed at the sadness again and again and again!!)

(Only for each blow to be deflected. Mal du Pays jumped back, for the first time you see it shocked.)

"I-It. . . It didn't do anything?!?" (You craft your spell to make your friend stronger!) "Is anyone else-"

"HERE!! I'M HERE!!!" (Running past you before you could stop them, Ramos dashed at the Sadness with their tonfas and struck out. This time it actually connected! it didn't do much but it connected!!)

"Careful!!" (You run up to Ramos.) "where's everyone else!!"

"Catching up!" (Ramos clenched and unclenched their hand.) "I hit it's weakness and still did blinding nothing."

"It's real strong, be careful!!"

(Mal was circling around the Sadness, it attacked with a fist and dagger, this time making contact with the sadness, it screamed.)

(It looked at Mal, it had hatred in it's eyes.)

(Mal Du Pays was frozen in time.)

"NO!!!!"

"W-WHAT THE?!?!?"

(Your heart dropped. No, no no no no. That's, that's not possible!! You beat the king!! You unfroze the country! You fixed everything!! But you never learned how to unfreeze people!!! You, you couldn't fix this!!!)

"That's, that's, that's-" (Ramos looked petrified seeing Mals frozen stare. R-right, they where probably frozen too back before you beat the King.)

(Wait!! You did have something!! You clap your hands.) "T-this'll stop you being frozen, b-but. . ."

". . ." (Ramos looked between you and the sadness, that confidence they came into the battle with quickly fading.) "I-I, I might have an idea."

"Is it a good one?"

"N-no way, but. Oh crab it!!" (Ramos gritted their teeth and charged forward, with a yell they struck the sadness on the head with their rock/scissors sign.)

(There's a moment where both stop. You smell a little bit of mint- mind craft?!?)

(Ramos had refrained from developing their mind craft, the most they ever did was Odile asking to see some of it. They knew it left a bad taste in Siffrin's mouth, so. . .)

"OW OW OW OW OW OW-" (Ramos collapses back, clutching their head, as the sadness wails clutching it's own head in turn.)

"MIRABELLE!! RAMOS!!" (That was Isabeau! You turn, he, Nille, Bonnie, and a bit further behind, Odile, where running up to join in. Isa gasped seeing Mal.) "WH- WHAT HAPPENED?!?!?"

W-woah!!" (Nille brandished her hammer, standing between you and the sadness.)

"GET OUTTA HERE!! STUPID!! GRABBING SADNESS!!!" (Bonnie stood next to their sister, yelling all kind of things at the strong sadness.)

"C-careful!! It froze Mal in time!!" (You yell, getting up.) "I-if we beat it then maybe we'll, w-we-"

(The sadness. . . Ran away?)

"Uh. . ."

"What???"

"Gems. . ."

"YEAH!!! KEEP RUNNING!!!"

(You breathe in, and out.)

(Mirabelle is now level 47. . . And learned the skill "Lovely Moving Cure!")

(Ramos is now level 21.)

(You feel dizzy, and sick, Oh Change what just happened!?!? Y-you, Change, oh you- YOU NEED TO UNFREEZE MAL!!!)

"M-mira!!" (Isabeau was already by your frozen friend as you got over there.) "C-can you, fix? It?"

"I-I, I think I can! If, if I just, do this. . ." (You take a breath, and hold out your hands. Please unfreeze please unfreeze please unfreeze. . .)

(Your friend gasps and collapses to their knees, they're coughing and shaking.)

"Oh thank Change that worked!!" (You kneel down next to them, Isabeau joining you.) "A-are you alright?!? Do you need a heal?!??"

"W-where. . ." (They shook their head. Not Mal?) "Uh, what, where, am I? What. . ."

"Easy, easy. Who's around right now?" (Isabeau asked softly.)

(They look up at you, then at Isabeau, then back at the ground.) "Uh, Siffrin, i-it's just me, what, uh. . ."

"I-I, I got attacked by a sadness a-and, and screamed for help and Mal came from nowhere to help but, b-but got frozen in time and I was, I-If, if you. . ." (You're hyperventilating. If you, if you hadn't figured out how to unfreeze them, then, then, t-then--)

"Relax, 'Bella." (Nille came over and knelt down next to you.) "Take a breath, you saved the day again, held your own too against that thing!"

"I-I, I guess so. . ." (You breathe in, and out. Just like Sif does. You were already calming down.)

"What was that sadness?" (Odile sat down by a tree, clearly winded from running here.) "It looked similar to sadness near the house of change, rather than. . ."

(Ramos looked away.)

"Maaaaybe it's lost?" (Said Sif, he leaned back onto Isabeau.) "Or it's a fan."

"Some fanclub." (Isabeau sighed, gently patting Siffrins head.) "It's still around though, isn't it?"

"It smelled really bad." (Bonnie adds.) "Stinking of sugar, toooo much sugar."

"You? Saying it's too much sugar?" (Nille jokes.) "Can't be possible."

"HEY!!!"

(You all laugh. Even if it was scary, you all get a chance to laugh. What a great family you have.)

". . . I, hate to be the one to say it," (Odile stands up.) "We cannot sleep here tonight."

"Good point."

"Agreed."

"I-if we hurry, we should make it before it gets dark."

"Fingers crossed. . ."

(It was going to be a long walk.)

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 31: halloween costumes

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

First I want to thank all the people who followed this during the month, I honestly never thought I would be able to join this kind of events, and I am very happy with the reception that each work received, you are incredible and made my days the best! I Hope this last one is to your liking, I send you a hug wherever you are

Deciding on an individual costume is already difficult, so you weren't surprised when you realized that a couple costume involved a bigger concern.

Halloween had finally arrived and you had practically begged Spencer to find a couple's costume for the party the FBI was hosting, something not really official, but with most of the agents, at the bar your friend David Rossi had chosen.

“Any suggestions for our outfit?” you had asked the man, once you convinced him to match his costume with yours.

Spencer thought about it for a while and although many of the options he gave you sounded excellent, there was the detail of the short time you had to get things or the disadvantage that few people would be able to recognize the theme of your costume.

“It has to be something practical and known,” you had murmured, when both of you were sitting on the couch at dinner time and a children's channel filled the void in the room.

Until, watching TV, you finally figured it out: you had the perfect option right in front of your eyes and you never saw it.

So it was that on the night of the 31st, quite happy and satisfied with the choice you made, you drove to the place and let him behave like a gentleman by opening the car door for you.

“Are you sure I look good?”

“You've never looked more handsome” you smiled at him, trying to calm his anxiety, while both of you walked hand in hand towards the entrance.

You didn't have to wait long to see your friends and, as you expected, they were comically surprised at you.

“No way…” Morgan had laughed, looking at you up and down. “Pretty boy in bell-bottoms? Now that's something I didn't think I'd see."

Shaggy and Velma from Scooby Doo. That was you two.

It was true that Spencer was wearing brown bell-bottom pants that you had gotten at a thrift store. You also searched your closet and luckily found a v-neck shirt in the perfect color. Unfortunately, your boyfriend had recently cut his hair and you wished you had thought about the costume more in advance so he could show off his long locks just like the animated character.

You had bought a few things from your all-orange outfit, but the bonus with you was that you could wear them later. When Spencer saw you, he was stunned and didn't waste the opportunity to compliment you extensively.

“What can we tell you? They solve mysteries and catch monsters, it's almost like our job”

"How nice!" murmured JJ, who had just arrived accompanied by her husband Will. Both of them were dressed as vampires “I loved Scooby Doo when I was a kid. My favorite was always Daphne.”

“I don't know why that doesn't surprise me,” joked Emily, who was dressed as the bride of Frankenstein's monster and drank from a glass with an unknown concoction.

“You should have told us and we could have done a group costume,” she smiled, while she looked at Will, hinting that they could have been the other couple on the show.

"Clear. You Daphne, him Fred and Morgan would have been the dog”

A collective laugh filled the place where even Derek, the affected one, smiled while he pointed a finger at you.

“Guess who was my favorite,” you murmured, a little more to your boyfriend than the others.

“Huh, Velma?”

“It was Shaggy!” you replied amused, while you took his arm to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“Reid looks a little like Velma if you think about it. You know, with all those facts and statistics and they're the damn nerd of the group”

Spencer blushed slightly at the comparison and didn't think of anything clever to answer because, sadly, Morgan was right this time.

You complimented the others' costumes and everyone agreed that you were looking forward to seeing Penelope Garcia and her extravagant clothes, since she hadn’t yet honored you with her presence. After that the group started talking about something else and soon the two of you were no longer the center of attention, allowing you to take the man's hand and sneak over to the drinks bar to look for something to cool your throat with. 

“Does this have alcohol?” your boyfriend asked the bartender over the noise of the music, making you laugh lightly. When he checked that the drink was safe, he took one and made sure to order your favorite cocktail afterwards.

“If you think about it a little, we are both more like each other's characters,” you murmured thoughtfully, because what your friend had said seemed to have echoed in your head. “Shaggy was always clumsy and an enthusiastic eater. Like me"

“You're not clumsy.”

"I am. But not in a bad way, not like being an idiot or something, but like something…”

“Cute and adorable?” he completed.

"Exactly. You always know what I'm thinking."

“Despite I agree, I think the costume wouldn't have worked at all that way,” your boyfriend smiled, approaching you to grab your waist. Because of the heels your height was more balanced and he only needed to extend his hands a little to reach your body.

"Why?"

“Don't get me wrong, but I don't think that skirt would have looked good on me at all” you let out a loud laugh at this, realizing what he was referring to “Although you, on the other hand…” while he spoke one of his hands slid down until he slapped your butt, startling you slightly “you look gorgeous in it”

“You have all night to figure out how to take it off,” you said flirtatiously. Now it was Reid who held his breath “I'm wearing something underneath that I make sure matches the rest of the outfit and that I think you'll love”

The wink you gave him was enough to make him nervous and, evidently, excited by the images that his skillful mind was already beginning to generate.

Once you got your cocktail you returned to the hustle and bustle but your velvety voice couldn't leave Spencer's mind, who couldn't wait for the night to end because he was sure that the best candy he would receive this Halloween would be you.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger @missabsey

[junkdrawerfics]

Swan Sisters (Part 4)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Bella and Sister!Reader

Summary: You get dragged into dress shopping in Port Angeles with the girls, which turns out to be a good thing considering Bella is a magnet for danger! Jasper is not in this one cause it got too long!

Word Count: 3534

Warnings: some violence (self defense) and allusion to/attempted assault (Port Angeles scene) also possibly horrid writing, I've been up for 24 hours!

---

“How was the beach?”

You meet Bella at the door, fluttering around her hectically as she toes her boots off and shakes stray droplets from her coat. She hits you with a look, the ‘calm down before I walk right back out of here’ look. Smiling apologetically, you back off a few paces, though you can’t stop the habitual leg bouncing.

She obviously had something planned last night, when you talked about La Push. Waiting is not exactly your forte these days. After wasting a couple hours working, you called Alice, who hadn’t seen anything, a common occurrence when the wolves are involved somehow. So wait you did, not that it was easy. The living room is in a completely different arrangement than it was this morning.

“It was fine. It rained a bit, but everyone seemed to have fun. I think I convinced Angella to ask Eric out,” she recounts once she hangs up her coat and starts towards the living room.

“Really? Angella and Eric? Huh.” You never thought of that, but they do seem like a perfect pair. Eric’s not too crazy and Ang- Wait, she’s trying to distract you! Focusing back in you, you prod a little further, “Besides that, did anything happen? Any coincidental Jacob appearances?”

‘Coincidental’ because you know of Jacob’s little crush on your sister. If he heard about Forks kids showing up on the reservation, he’d probably show up out of pure curiosity.

“Yup.”

Hm, the shut out approach. Smart. Unfortunately for her, you are now undying, which means an eternal amount of stubborn snooping.

“How’s he?”

“Fine, Billy’s good too.”

“That’s nice.” You give her just enough time to sit down and reach for the tv remote before plopping down next to her, your next question spilling out, “What did you guys talk about?”

Bella rolls her eyes, “Are we playing twenty questions?”

“Until I figure out what you were planning last night before dad came in,” you reply, just as snarkily, “So?”

“Fine,” she huffs, “I got him to tell me about the legend behind why they don’t like the Cullens. Happy?”

“How’d you do that?” This question is just for fun.

A lot of fun, considering Bella goes positively red, pursing her lips in discomfort.

“I might have…flirted with him,” she mumbles, scratching the back of her neck.

Oh the poor boy. Being exposed to that so young, he’ll never be the same. And to think, Bella can actually successfully flirt! You can’t stop yourself from snickering, which makes Bella look even more miserable. 

“It’s alright, Bells.” You try to reassure her, but there’s no hiding the amusement in your voice, and she just glares at you. “Sometimes you just have to use your feminine wiles to get your way, you know?”

She groans, head dropping into her hands. Her voice comes out muffled when she growls, “I hate you so much.”

The laugh you let out is truly a cackle, completely evil in intent, “You could never.”

“I am this close.” She holds out her fingers, except they are pressed firmly together, which just makes you laugh harder.

It takes a moment for you to calm down again. It’s a good thing you don’t need air, otherwise you’d be gasping, ribs aching. But now you can laugh as much as you want, as long as you want. A weird perk, but one you enjoy.

“So,” you start again, wiping a nonexistent tear from your eye, “What did you learn?”

Bella shifts, just enough to cast you a sidelong glance. Her eyes, thoughtful, calculating, seem to look straight through you as she considers her words carefully. You wish she would just spit it out, but it’s not too hard to guess what she might be thinking.

“He said that the Cullens are some enemy clan, and that they have some treaty with the Quileutes that keep them off the reservation,” she finally explains, though her tone is clipped.

“An enemy clan, huh?” 

That makes sense. You get the feeling that there’s more to what Jacob said, something about what you are, but you don’t press further. Whether she figures it out or not, you’re not too worried anymore. Alice’s visions always come true, and your stubbornness alone will deter the more gruesome ending.

You look at her face. There’s no fear in her expression as she meets your gaze. So maybe he didn��t say too much. But there’s still something. She has to know something. You catch yourself, humming at the realization that you want her to know something.

Maybe the quicker she figures it out, the quicker that future will come true.

You give her knee a soft squeeze and push yourself back to your feet, “Whelp, I’m glad you had fun, Bells. You should talk to Jacob more often, he’s a smart kid.”

Her brow furrows, confusion flooding her face at your conspiratorial grin. With a quick wink, you dart upstairs, leaving Bella positively bewildered much to your own amusement.

---

Not much changes the days following the conversation. The weather gets a little sunnier, meaning the Cullens don’t go to school and you get a few off days with Jasper. Bella doesn’t mention their absence, much to your surprise.

It’s almost like things are normal for a little bit.

She even invites you to Port Angeles for prom dress shopping, which prompted the question-

“You’re going to prom?!”

And the subsequent answer.

“No.” Said with such disdain, you let it drop immediately.

Even so, that’s how you find yourself here, watching Angela and Jessica try on dresses while Bella stares out the window, lost in thought. It’s a good thing that you know the girls from your time in Forks High, otherwise this would be so awkward.

Maybe that’s why she just invited you, to spare herself the pain of doing it alone.

“I like that one on you, Ang,” you chirp, “Lavender is totally your color.”

“Yah?” She smiles meekly, looking down at herself.

“Totally! Don’t you think Bella?” You give your sister a hard elbow to the ribs, making her jump and glare at you before turning to her friend.

“Definitely, Angela, you look beautiful.” At least she’s trying.

The two more normal girls go back to fussing over their dresses. Watching them gives you a dull sense of nostalgia. It’s been so long since you’ve done something like this with humans. Since you’ve been able to.

“So, (Y/n), are you still dating Jasper Hale?” Jessica suddenly pipes up, eyeing you with poorly hidden jealousy.

Ah, that, you haven’t missed. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Bella smothering a smug smile. Karma.

“I am,” you reply shortly.

“Is that weird?” She presses as she stares at herself in the mirror, messing with a pair of white gloves. “Ya know, since you graduated and he’s still in school?”

“No. I skipped a grade, so we’re about the same age.” Not even close, technically, but appearance wise it is. 

“Still-”

Thankfully, or unfortunately, she’s cut off by a sudden knock on the window. A group of men walk by, whooping and catcalling. Angela and Jessica flinch and shuffle away from the glass, faces twisting with discomfort. You frown, a sudden flare of anger flushes through you.

You jump in front of the girls, flipping the bird at the men as you bark a low, “Piss off!”

It doesn’t do much to damper their attitudes, since they’re probably too buzzed to notice the typically unnerving edge you carry as a vampire. Anger simmers low and hot in your gut. What happened to common decency?

“That is uncomfortable,” Jessica mumbles.

“But really cool, of you, (Y/n),” Angela murmurs, voice touched with awe, “Thanks.”

“Oh please, it’s only decent,” you grumble and slump back into your seat, “I can’t believe that.”

You’re tempted to go rip their heads off, but that wouldn’t look too good.

“It’s disgusting,” Bella agrees, looking just as frustrated.

You fall into a tense silence. It’s tense to you at least, but that’s probably because you’re watching the window like a hawk, as if they’ll come back at any moment. For their sake, you hope they don’t. Their death would not be pleasant. No, you’d make sure-

“What do you think of this one, Bella?”

Oh right, dress shopping. Probably not the best time to get swept up in murderous thoughts.

“It looks great.”

You snort. Is it possible to sound less enthusiastic? 

“You’ve said that about, like, the last five dresses,” Jessica says with a grimace-like smile.

Bella shrugs, “I thought they were all pretty great.”

Angela, who’s observant nature rivals even Edward’s, picks up on her reluctance easily, “You’re not really into this, are you?”

“I actually just really wanted to go to this bookstore.”

You perk up a little in interest, eyeing your sister, “A bookstore?”

She noticably avoids your stare as she nods. Curious. Maybe something to do with her talk with Jacob?

“Well let’s go to this bookstore of yours then! We’ll catch you girls at the restaurant?” A charismatic smile and they agree easily. You tug Bella up by her arm, though she quickly jostles out of your grip with a soft glare.

“You don’t have to come,” she grumbles.

“Hmmm, stay here dress shopping for a prom I’m not going to or accompany my twig-like sister around a dangerous town?” You pretend to mull it over, rubbing your chin theatrically, and Bella rolls her eyes. “I’m afraid I’ll have to go with the ladder. For your safety, of course.”

“I can hold my own.”

Swan stubbornness.

“A gust of wind could knock you over, Bells. Or worse, a nice patch of wet concrete.”

No need to remind her of all the times you’ve watched her trip on nothing. The girl was frightfully uncoordinated. Plus, you’d heard word of some strange “animal” attacks nearby. It’s safer if you’re with her.

Though the trip turns out to be mostly uneventful. You walk to a small store, Thunderbird and Whale Bookstore, who’s clerk gives you a weird look as you puruse the indigenous literature. Not completely abnormal, given your appearance. Just abnormal enough to make you wonder, not too abnormal that people ask. But the legends of their people definitely make you more conscious of your human habits. 

Breathe. In. Out. Blink. Shuffle.

Until he focuses on Bella as she comes up to him with a book.

You peer over her shoulder at the cover. Quileute Legends. Seems you right.

She shifts, blocking your sight as she tucks the book to her chest. With a quick thank you and goodbye, you’re back on the street. The restaurant shouldn’t be too far.

“So…Quileute legends?” 

“Yep.”

You huff, “You’re so boring sometimes, Bella.”

She meets you tick for tick, “You’re so annoying sometimes, (N/n).”

Unconsciously, you catch the sound of heavy footsteps down a nearby road.

“That’s my job,” you chirp, slinging an arm over her shoulders, to draw her close, just to be careful.

“I thought you’re job was to teach me about makeup and boys and all that,” she snorts back.

The footsteps get louder.

Pretending to be playful, you pull her hood up, synching it over part of her face, “What do you want to know, hm?”

Bella looks at you, glare equal parts amused and irritated, until she catches the faintest glimmer of unease in your eyes. You smile, but it’s forced, too stiff, unnarturally sharp. She grip the book closer to her chest. As you push her into an alley, she catches sight of the two men walking where you had. 

And they catch sight of the two of you. A glint sparks in their eyes. An all too familiar one. The hunt has begun.

“Keep walking, Bells, please.” You urge, voice tight.

Their gaze burns on the back of your neck, much like it had at the dress store, dripping with hunger. It brings back every memory of walking through Port Angeles alone. The fear, gripping your mace with white fingers, keys held like claws in your other hand. All because men like them think they are entitled to touch touch touch-

Rage simmers up your throat.

Any other day you could show them what that fear is like. How it feels to be hunted. But you’re too aware of Bella tucked under your arm, one hand curling around your wrist so tight, it would break if you weren’t made of marble. She would see. As much as you want her to know, this is not how you want her to figure it out.

So you clamp down on the rage. Dismembering them might not be the best solution anyways.

Though it sounds more appealing as you step out of the alley and watch the last of the drunken men slither out from the shadows. Disgusting snakes. They were waiting for you.

“Hey, where you running to?”

“There they are.”

Bella flinches, and you envision their blood spilled over the pavement, fizzling alongside their beer. Something inside you craves it, longs to see these men wounded in the same way they hurt young women. But you keep it locked down. Not yet. Not unless it’s necessary, you snarl to yourself.

“Stay close to me, Bella,” you murmur, arm like a metal guard around her shaking, frail shoulders. 

The girl merely nods. Her eyes are wide, unblinking, like a china doll.

You will protect her. At all costs.

Head kepts low, you try to force yourself forward, through the men, but they close in like vultures around you.

“Woah, woah, woah, where are you going?” 

“Yah, why don’t you hang out with us?” They chorus in agreement.

Your eyes dart around, looking for any way to escape. There’s maybe ten men, and you feel your throat tighten with each step they take towards you. With each step, Bella’s heartrate spikes, panic flickering over her features. You pull her impossibly closer.

You go rigid when a scorchingly hot, sweaty hand gropes your butt. Snarling, you slap it away, disgust burning a pit in your gut.

“Don’t you dare touch me,” you warn, though your eyes flicker between their identical, sickening smirks, unable to tell who did it. If Jasper were here, they’d all die for it. They still might.

“Oh, she doesn’t like that.”

“Feisty one, eh?”

“What about this one?”

Everything slows down for just a split second.

Another reaching hand, palm covered in sweat and beer, nails rimmed with dirt, skin smudged with oil. Ready to touch. Ready to take whatever it wants. Reaching for your sister.

Fast - too fast - you block his way. Bella gasps almost inaudibly behind you, but you’re too distracted as you catch the man’s wrist. His face goes stark white at your crushing grip, and it’s like the clouds clearing, his eyes setting on you for the first, real time. The fear glinting in their depths gives you a sick sense of satisfaction.

“Keep your disgusting, filthy hands off my sister,” you hiss slowly and give his wrist a deft twist.

The satisfying pop paired with his pained yelp is music to your ears.

Alongside the sound of screeching tires.

Edward.

Bella barely has time to breathe as you shove her towards the Volvo as it skids to a stop, barely catches the imperseptible nod you give Edward as he steps out. Ignoring her sputtering, you push her into the front seat.

“What the h-”

“Just stay put,” you grumble and slide into the backseat.

You don’t watch as Edward approaches the men. You don’t care to see their faces again. If you do, you just might turn around and break the remaining wrists. Maybe that would keep them from laying their hands on any innocents again.

Eyes flickering shut, you let every muscle in your body go still. It helps somehow, like you’re resetting. You focus on the sound of Bella’s breathing, how it slows down, and how her heart eventually returns to a normal rhythm.

It picks up a fraction when Edward slips back in, slamming his door hard enough to make the car shake.

“Hold on tight,” you whisper, mostly to yourself.

Bella turns to look at you, but gasps and clutches at her armrests when Edward whips right out of the lot. The man drives like usual, like he’s trying escape the depths of hell. This time, you don’t give him grief for it though.

“I should go back and rip their heads off,” Edward snarls, fingers going somehow paler around the steering wheel.

“No. Bad idea-”

“Sounds good to me-”

Bella shoots you a glare. With an unapologetic shrug, you turn to watch the trees race by. They might not have hurt the two of you, but there’s no doubt in your mind that they’ve done the same thing to some other poor soul. They deserve to rot.

“You don’t know the vile things they were thinking.”

You resist the urge to slap your forehead. Or him.

“And you do?” Bella’s brow furrows.

Cover it up, cover it up, you idiot.

“Not hard to guess.”

Better than that, Edward.

The glare he sends you through the rearview mirror is remarkably similar to your sister’s. They really will make a lovely match. Good thing they can’t have kids, what with the amount of disapproval they can put together. 

“Good thing you were visiting Port Angeles, huh Edward?” You tease with a lecherous grin pointed right back at him.

“You were just…visiting.” Bella’s voice rings with suspicioun.

Edward grinds his teeth, “Yup. Visiting.”

The word is slowly losing all meaning. 

You settle back into your seat as an awkward silence fills the cabin. If you didn’t know better, you would think Edward was just another inexperienced teenager, new to the whole love thing. Though, he still looks ready to murder those guys, based on his black glare barely focused on the road.

Remembering them brings back a new feeling. Not fear, but a remanent, the faintest lingering of anxiety that makes you grit your teeth. Dread maybe, because you can’t help but wonder - what if it happened a year ago? It’s pointless, you know, but there’s no banishing the images that come to mind.

Something hollow opens in your chest as you shake your head, as if that will dislodge them.

Edward glances back at you again. His gold eyes crease with concern, but ignoring him seems better than admitting to something so stupid. You’re a vampire now, nothing like that will happen. Instead, you let thoughts of Jasper fill your mind. His smile. His eyes. Anything to keep you distracted until you’re in his arms.

Bella must tell Edward where to go, because the next thing you know, you’re pulling up to the restaurant you were meant to meet Jessica and Angela at. They are barely walking out the door as you park. Bella jumps out, probably to greet them, and Edward goes to follow, but you stop him with a hand on his elbow. Gold eyes flash back to meet yours, still concerned and questioning.

“Thank you,” you all but whisper, squeezing his elbow gently.

His features soften, a small, genuine smile flashing over his lips, “Go. I’ll take care of Bella. Alice told Jasper about tonight, he needs you just as much right now.”

Those words wash over you like a warm tide. Somehow, the thought of Jasper in a rage over your safety, despite you being almost stronger than him now, makes you feel a little better. His protectiveness almost matches your own, though yours spans to practically everyone around you.

Speaking of. 

You slip out of the car and give Bella one last once over. She looks…okay. No bruises. No lingering fear. Like it never happened. Satisfied, you nod to yourself and pull her into a tight, almost crushing hug. She jumps, wheezing out a soft laugh.

“I’m fine, (Y/n).”

“I know, I know. Just, stay with Eddie, okay? He’ll get you food and take you home.”

Bella frowns, “Where are you going?”

“To see Jasper.” You offer her a guilty smile, though she nods her understanding. “Eddie called him right before he got to us, so he’s freaking out a little.” Another nod. “Love you, Bells.”

“Love you, too.”

One last squeeze and you pull away, offering the two other girls a short wave, “Night girls, get home safe, alright?”

“You too, (Y/n)!”

“It was nice seeing you again.”

As you turn to leave, you hear Bella flip on her heels, laughter in her voice, “Eddie?”

Edward’s following groan casts off the last of your dark clouds. You’ll pay for that somehow, you’re sure, but it’ll be totally worth the pure enjoyment it brings you. He hates it when you call him that. Almost as much as Bella hates it when you call her Tinkerbell. Another match.

The silver lining of this all is that you have a convenient reason to leave them alone together.

And based on the events of the night, Bella will probably have more questions than Edward can answer without lying. Plus the book. Everything’s lining up, it’ll just depend on how much Edward outs himself!

---

Part 5 (ending)

I hope y'all enjoyed! The next part will likely be the last! And sorry if you missed Jasper in this part :( I try to keep my stories to below 4k words, so I decided to keep that for the next part.

@avadakadabra93

@glaciuswduo

[skriblee-ksk]

“I checked the drinks… Princes’ outfits are up to code… Grimmy’s with Ryoko right now… I didn’t forget anything, did I?”

“Okay. Ready as I’ll ever be…! Let’s make this ball a success!”

Set to Home Screen: Are you ready? I’ll wait for you, if you need me to.

Home Transition:

1: Woah… The chandeliers are so bright and sparkly… 12 arms from the bottom bowl, which are four more than the one in the Mirror Chamber, but the top… Ah, sorry!

2: Deuce called me Lady Kiyuu earlier, which really made me happy. I would have worn a pretty dress, but these clothes are a lot warmer and comfier. I think I managed to make myself look feminine either way!

3: Kalim’s really enjoying talking to the attendees. He seems to be getting friendly with everyone, including people from RSA! Must be because he’s familiar with hosting parties.

4: So many attractive people are here… I wonder if I’d be bothering them if I said I wanted to take a picture of them…?

Home, after Login: This ball is really fun! If I lean back on this wall and squint, it just looks like a blur of blue, white, and gold. I think it’s nice that there’s a time these schools can merge like this.

Tap Home:

1: I’m excited to vote for the Belle of the Ball! Huh? Oh, no, I never had any intent to participate. I just enjoy seeing pretty people.

2: Ah, what? Oh, I’m just reviewing my notepad to make sure I’m not forgetting any etiquette. I’m doing perfectly well, so far! I reviewed it before I entered too, but just in case, you know?

3: Oh, no, wait, Grim’s gonna devour the entire table of finger foods at this rate. I’ll be right back!

4: I know I’m supposed to be helping the princes out, but I’m not sure if I’m doing a proper job here… Hm? You think I’m doing pretty well? Mm… Hehe, thanks!

5: It’s a little bit harder than usual to catch the attention of the attendees here since there’s so many people… Well, I guess I just have to find better ways to make my presence known!

Glimmering Soirée is a twst fan event hosted by: @starry-night-rose!!

Groovy Lines: Unlocked

Notes and stuff under cut!!

Groovy art coming soon!! maybe. hopefully. i have the sketch done so hopefully i can finish lol. I slightly tried imitating the twst shading style, but idk.

I searched up men’s victorian era clothing and ended w making this design. few obvious design changes in the end (color) result, mostly the gloves.

Here’s the pic without the SR thing! And the sneak peak for the groovy (which i rlly tryharded on so maybe i should’ve listed it as an ssr but whatevs i’ll leave that to my friend + ryoko because ryoko deserves that ssr title)

And tag list for my friend who rlly wanted to be tagged in Kiyuu stuff (if you wanted be added, just tell me!!): @kathxrat-01

[megxplryxb]

Let Me Show You…

King!Steve x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Fingering (F receiving)

Minors DNI - 18+

The school bell had gone a little over ten minutes ago, the seat beside yours still currently empty but you knew it wouldn’t be for much longer. Steve “The Hair” Harrington was always late to class, no apologies, no excuses, he’d just waltz in when he felt like it, taking his seat with a shit eating grin on his face. You’d been placed beside the “King” of Hawkins High at the back of the class, being forced to switch with Tommy Hagan two weeks ago when Mrs Click decided the two trouble makers were distracting each other and the rest of the students from their work and although you hated to admit it, sitting beside “King Steve” wasn’t so bad, he was extremely easy on the eyes after all.

Steve had always been flirty with you, especially since you had joined the cheer squad, cheering him and his teammates on while they played Basketball but he’d stepped up his game since being seated beside you in Click’s class. You’d done well to spurn his advances so far, knowing he’d been hanging out with Nancy Wheeler recently but that hadn’t stopped him from sweet talking you every chance he got.

The class had just started watching Romeo and Juliet when Tommy and Steve finally barged through the door, laughing loudly, earning a scowl from Mrs Click as they walked toward their seats in the darkness. “Mr Harrington, Mr Hagan, so nice of you to finally join us.” She said sarcastically as Tommy muttered something crude under his breath while Steve had already locked eyes with you, ignoring everyone else around him. “Hey princess, did you miss me?” He smirked, taking his seat as you tried to hide the smile that was forming on your lips.

“Don’t flatter yourself Harrington.” You replied, flicking your hair as he slouched into the chair, placing his backpack on the floor. You could smell the cigarettes on his breath while he tried to mask it with mint chewing gum but somehow the scent was still intoxicating because it was coming from him. Fuck, how was that possible?

As the rest of the class continued to watch the movie in silence, you could feel Steve’s eyes on you, admiring your new dress, ogling your sun kissed legs, moving up your body until they reached your cleavage. He wasn’t even trying to hide his lust for you.

“Wanna take a picture? It’ll last longer.” You tease, turning your head towards him confidently. Steve locks eye with you then, smirking as he leans closer to you.

“I think I’d rather the real thing, princess.” He admits as you clench your thighs, hoping he didn’t notice the effect he had on you.

You shake your head, trying to focus on the movie but you’ve got Steve’s full attention now and he knows he’s got you flustered already.

“C’mon sweetheart, I’m serious. When are you gonna let me take you out, huh?” He whispers.

“I can’t imagine Nancy would be too happy with you taking me out.” You reply, keeping your eyes on the screen at the top of the class.

“Who says she has to know? S’not like we’re exclusive anyway.” Steve shrugs carelessly.

“Oh really?” Your eyes widen with interest as he leans closer to you

“Yeah, really.”

“Hmm, even so, I think I’m busy.” You respond, faking a frown at the boy beside you as he presses his tongue to his cheek.

Steve can’t help but grin at your stubbornness, it’s a complete turn on for him and he can already feel his jeans tighten. He knows he can have any girl he wants at any time, but right now, he only wants you.

“That’s really too bad princess.” He sighs, pushing your pen off of the table and onto the floor with his elbow.

“And why is that?” You question raising a brow as he begins to lower his hand to the ground to pick up your pen but instead, you feel his fingers on your ankle, lightly running up the back of your leg before they move to the front of your knee and stop at the top of your thigh.

“Cause I think we both know I could give you the time of your life, sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear as your breath hitches, cheeks immediately heating up.

You knew Steve was cocky, he’d proved it on more than one occasion but feeling you up in the middle of class? Shit, even you didn’t think he had the balls to do that.

“Steve, what if someone…”

“No one’s gonna see me do anything, honey. No one’s even paying attention to us, so why don’t you just sit back, relax and open those pretty legs for me yeah?” He squeezes your thigh as you nod a yes before giving him the access he so badly desired.

You do your best to hold back a small moan as Steve casually sneaks his hand between your thighs, his fingers running over your white lace panties as he looks straight to the top of the class, pretending to be focused on the movie. He closes his eyes for a split second, licking his lips as he feels the heat radiating from your core.

“Shit princess, can already feel how wet you are. S’that all from me, huh?” He questions but you’re unable to answer, unable to think. He hooks one finger into your underwear, pulling the soaked piece of fabric to the side before teasing your folds.

“Steve….” You groan, trying to remember to breathe as he smiles at you, almost teasingly.

“S’ok honey, m’gonna give you what you want.” He mutters, resting his chin on your shoulder as he slides his middle finger between your folds, gathering your slick before putting the slightest bit of pressure on your clit.

“Ohmygod..” You whimper, shutting your eyes as he circles your little bundle of nerves.

“So fuckin’ wet for me.” He whispers, revelling in the way you’re trying not to make a sound.

“Did you think about this, honey? About me touching you? You did, didn’t you? Dirty girl, my dirty fuckin’ girl” Steve groans proudly, finally pushing a finger inside your cunt and then another.

You bite your lip trying to hide a desperate moan as he moves his fingers achingly slow inside you. His dick throbs with how tight you feel and his brain almost turns to mush when he thinks about how his cock would feel buried deep in you.

“Steve please…”

“Please what, honey? What do you need, tell me?” He requests, his nose and chin moving up the side of your neck and jaw, pepping quick, teasing kisses along the way. You shut your eyes again in utter bliss once you’ve confirmed that no one has caught on to your little escapade at the back of the room.

“Fuck, I need….Need you to go faster.” You beg, your mouth making an “o” shape as he starts to quicken the pace inside you, immediately giving you what you want. “That feel better, huh? This what you needed?” He smirks, pumping his fingers harder and faster.

“Mhmm.” You reply, looking down at the tent in Steve’s jeans, mouth watering at the sight when you see him palming at himself, trying to get a hint of relief.

“Steve you’re ha..”

“I know honey, this is what you do to me. Fuck I get hard just looking at you. Get so distracted by you in your little cheerleading outfit, just wanna take you into the locker room and fuck you senseless after every game.” He admits as your thighs clench around his hand, feeling a familiar knot in your stomach. Steve wasn’t lying, he’d jerked himself off on more than one occasion after a game in the locker room shower, unable to wait until he got home, needing to release himself after watching you cheer. Hearing you yell his name sent lightening bolts straight to his cock and he could just imagine how you’d sound saying his name in the throws of passion.

“Oh god…I’m close.”

“Yeah? You like the idea of me fucking you honey? Like the idea of my cock filling you up? Could have you screaming my name.” Steve teases as your eyes begin to water. He knows your close, knows you’re barely hanging on to your senses, it isn’t his first rodeo after all. He can feel you tightening around him, his fingers completely soaked and you’re both thankful for the noise coming from the tv to cover the squelching sounds coming from your pussy.

“Steve, I’m gonna cum.” You whine, grabbing at his wrist while he rubs a thumb over your clit.

“That’s my good girl, you gonna cum all over my fingers? Gonna make a fucking mess, yeah? Come on princess, let go for me, I’ve got you, s’ok.” He says, grabbing your face lightly, begging you to look at him as you reach your climax, gushing all over his fingers.

“Holy shit, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Steve says, placing his forehead on yours, letting out a heavy breath as he slips his fingers out of your panties, placing the fabric back over your overly sensitive core as you try to fix yourself.

“That was amazing.” You sigh, trying to catch your breath, still comprehending what just happened when the bell rings, signalling the end of the class and you both jump apart before Mrs Click turns the lights back on.

Steve is the first of you to stand up, trying to hide his erection with a math book as pull your dress back down over your thighs. He doesn’t move until you give him the go ahead, letting him know you’re good.

“Guess I’ll see you around, princess.” He says, smiling at you as he begins to walk away, not expecting you to pull him back, guiding him towards the nearest restrooms. Steve just follows you in awe, mesmerised by the cheeky grin on your face.

“Wait, what are you…..”

“Can’t a girl repay the favour?” You smile sweetly as Steve nods in approval, swallowing hard. “Fuck yeah, she can.”

“Harrington! You coming man?” Tommy shouts over to where you were both standing, shaking his head when he sees the two of you giggling, hands all over each other as you lead him to the bathroom.

“Oh he’s coming alright.” You grin, dragging Steve into nearest cubicle, locking the door behind you before unzipping his pants.

[lover-also-fighter-also]

A Slice of Red Velvet

Summary: The beginning of Senior year at Berry High proves to hit Ria harder than she expected in the absence of her girlfriend.

Fandom: High School Story (Original Trilogy)

Pairings: Maria Flores x Ria Monero (My female HSS MC)

Characters: Maria Flores, Ria Monero, Emma Hawkins, Michael Harrison, Caleb Mitchell, Myra Khandaar, mentions of m!Rory Silva.

Rating: G

Tags: Fluff, future timeline, post series events

A/N: Submitting this work for @hss-appreciation-events HSS Appreciation Week Day 5: Favorite Ships/Pairings. I've had this WIP in my mind for a long time and I'm happy to have finally completed it! Hope you enjoy!

Additional Tags: @cadybear420 @somerandomjewelleryonthefloor @choicesmc @choicesficwriterscreations @gmsrrn98 @rosesnink @dutifullynuttywitch

The sun was shining as the first day of the new school year begin at Berry High. Students chattered as they walked into the school, excited to be back after the summer holidays. But Ria's mood was dampened as she walked the school halls, past the door where the morning announcements took place. She still half-expected to run into Maria, shuffling through her papers and adjusting her dress as she prepared for the announcements and give her a quick kiss before heading inside the room. Ria sighed as she headed to her locker to take her books out for the day.

'This year is gonna be really long.' she sighed

Ria was lost in thought when she heard a voice 'Hellooo! Earth to Ria?'

Ria snapped out of her thoughts when she saw Emma waving a hand at her face. 'Huh?'

'Are you okay, Ri? you totally zoned out for a moment.' asked Emma, looking concerned.

'Sorry Ems. Just…spaced out there. I'm good now.' said Ria, composing a smile. Emma didn't look convinced but she let it slide. 'Shall we head to class, the bell just rang.'

'Yeah sure.' said Ria, straightening up. God, she can't let the thoughts of her girlfriend overtake her right now, especially when classes are about to start.

She and Emma settled in their usual seats in front of the class, with Caleb and Myra giving them enthusiastic waves. Ria forced a smile and gave them hi-fis as she settled down on the desk. Everyone were chattering about what they did over the summer, Ria did her best to pay attention but her heart wasn't really into it. She could only recall the last time she saw Maria, the week before summer holidays ended and she went off to college. She had struggled to keep her emotions together only till Maria left and she had a total meltdown for an entire hour. She was only broken out of her trance when the morning announcements started and Rory's energetic voice was heard from the screen

'Good morning Berry High! Welcome to the first Tiger news of the year…'

Ria felt another pang in her chest. 'That was supposed to be Maria's place. She already missed hearing her voice during the morning announcements, and Rory was saying everything wrong…' Ria's face scrunched into a scowl, trying to block out the thoughts, when Caleb nudged her. 'Ri, you still with us?' he whispered.

'What? Yeah I am.' Caleb raised an eyebrow. 'You look like you are going to snap that pencil in half.' Ria looked down and realized that she was pressing on her pencil a little too hard. 'Sorry.' she muttered, 'just didn't realize my own strength.'

Thankfully, none of her friends pressed her about anything for the rest of the class and she breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe she can get through the day without having an emotional breakdown or make herself look like a sappy, lovesick puppy.

During lunch break, Ria's eyes were on the homecoming committee members who were going around, taking surveys. 'Dang, why does she have to think about homecoming right now? It's not like Maria was gonna come running back for the sake of a high school dance now…'

'Boo!' Ria jumped and saw Michael behind her. 'What was that for?' said Ria, scowling. Michael laughed and raised his hands in surrender. 'Just enjoy seeing you riled up.' Ria frowned. 'Very funny. Did you want to say something or was it just to scare me?'

Michael laughed. 'Just letting you know, a bunch of us are going to the Golden Griddle for lunch today. Come on Ri, its senior year, you should enjoy a bit.' Ria thought about it. Lunch off campus and surrounded by friends might just be the thing to keep her mind off of things, even temporarily. 'Okay. I'm in!'

A couple of minutes later at The Golden Griddle:

'Can I have a slice of Red Velvet cake?' asked Ria. The waitress nods as she takes their orders before walking away.

Myra looks at her, preceptive. Ria happened to notice the stare. 'What?'

Myra folds her hands. 'You are pining, aren't you?'

'Pining? I don't know what you're talking about.'

'You sure about that?' asked Michael from across the table.

'Come on Ri, just admit it.' said Emma, looking at her best friend.

'Admit what?' asked Ria, getting a little weary of the stares her friends were giving her.

'That you are pining for a certain someone?' said Caleb, grinning.

Ria feels her face turning hot. 'Who am I pining for? I'm not pining for anyone!'

Michael grins teasingly. 'Really? Not even a certain class president with an obsession for Red Velvet?'

Ria blushes. 'What makes you think I'm pining for her? Just because I ordered her favorite flavor. Come on guys.'

Emma laughs helplessly. 'Ri, we all know that double chocolate is always your go-to flavor. In these 2 years we have never seen you order any other flavor for yourself.'

'So? I just want a change…' Ria knew that argument won't work with her friends. She had always been a terrible liar.

'Really?' asks Myra, trying to get a rise out of Ria. 'Then why have you been super sulky when Rory appeared on Tiger News today? Miss your favorite anchor already?'

Ria stammers 'I..I wasn't sulky…'

Caleb laughed. 'Sure you were. You looked like you were ready to snap.' Ria let out a long exhale. Not that she wasn't a good liar or anything but these were her friends. They could see right through her.

'Okay fine! Maybe I am pining! I just didn't realize how much I was missing Maria till school started and just…everything around school reminds me of her.'

Emma gave her an empathetic glance. 'Ri…its okay. You are missing her, its natural to feel that way.' she says, wrapping an arm around her.

'And you can always call her. It's not like you are communicating through snail mail.' said Michael.

'I know…but we already talked about restricting our calls…you know Maria, she would have a loaded schedule in the first semester itself and I don't want to inconvenience her by calling her up every time I think of her…

'Oh Ria.' said Myra, reaching out and squeezing her hand sympathetically, 'I can only imagine that being really difficult for you.'

'Gods, I am being pathetic ain't I? She is gonna have so many cool adventures at college and I am her loser high school girlfriend who can't go a day without her…' said Ria mournfully, running a hand through her rainbow streaks.

'Hey, woah!' said Caleb 'You are not a loser, Ria. Don't be too hard on yourself. Senior year has just begun and there are gonna be a lot of cool things that can happen. Take it one day at a time. You deserve to have some fun too.'

Ria takes a deep breath 'Thanks guys…I'm happy to have you guys around.'

The orders arrived, and everyone tucked in. As Ria saw the slice of red velvet cake, an idea struck her mind. She grabs a forkful of cake and took a selfie of herself eating it, and sent it to Maria, captioned

'This tastes nice, but not really sweet without you!'

Myra giggled. 'Ooh that was smooth Ri! That shot could get our darling president running here from Terman U!'

Soon enough, Ria's phone pinged with a reply from Maria.

Ria smiled as she shut her phone and went back to her lunch, grinning at her friends 'Mission accomplished.'

Maria: Are you trying to tempt me?

Ria: Is it working😉?

Maria: You are incorrigible!

Ria: I don't know who incorrigible is. I am Ria 😝!

Maria: That was so lame🙄…but I still love you ❤️❤️.

Ria: Love you too Prez! ❤️❤️❤️

[v4mpgutz]

⊹₊ ⋆ CUT & SEWN JUST FOR: @ladyinbl00d

₊˚꒰🎀꒱‧ BABYDOLL DRESSES : dallas winston, 'enchanted' by taylor swift, meeting for the first time.

⊹˚. ౨ৎ 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃, 𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧

❝ all i can say is i was enchanted to meet you. ❞

warnings — movie dallas (matt dillon), mention of armed robbery, smoking, fluff, love at first sight vibes, dallas being dallas

dallas winston had never set foot inside a bookstore — that is unless you count the one time in new york before he was arrested. at that time though, he was brought along by these guys he would hang around in the subway. he watched as they pulled a gun on the old lady running the shop, the woman cowering as she handed them the money.

dallas thought about that often, he wasn't sure why they decided it had to be a bookstore of all places — did they even make money worth taking?

he hadn't exactly planned to go into that kind of store ever again, he wasn't the kind of guy that enjoyed literature of any kind and he couldn't be caught in a place like that; it would ruin his reputation. on one particular day though, he found himself being dragged to 'the book garden' — ponyboy's favourite store.

unfortunately for dallas, today he was tasked with accompanying johnny and pony as everyone else was busy. it's not that he didn't like them, because he did, he'd just rather spend his saturday doing anything else.

the three of them walked into the store where you just so happened to be working today. you glanced up at the ring of the bell when the door opened, seeing the trio of greasers. you gave a small smile to ponyboy, recognising him as he was a frequent customer. johnny you knew from school when he came and dallas — well, everyone knew dallas — but you didn't know him.

you kept yourself busy where you were, stocking the shelf with new additions. there were lots of interesting copies in there of old fairytales, you picked up a stack of seven rather thick books and walked slowly towards the fantasy section.

you could barely see over the stack but you knew your way around the store well so you felt confident enough to walk through blind. you did feel confident walking through blind, at least, that was until somebody bumped into you and made you and your stack of books fall to the floor.

you frowned, wincing as your knees came into contact with the hard wood.

you started gathering your books hurriedly, hearing a huff from above you. "you should watch where you're goin', huh? people are tryin' to walk here."

you swallowed hard and got up, balancing the pile of books in your arms once again and coming face-to-face with dallas winston.

"i'm— i'm sorry..." you sputtered out in apology, feeling embarrassment creep its way into your gut. you really should've known something like this had to happen at some point — you just didn't expect it to be dallas in particular.

the roughed up teen chewed the inside of his cheek, his eyes noticeably looking you up and down as if examing you before he looked away for a moment. he licked his teeth in a smile as he turned back to you.

"so— so what are you? uh, a— a librarian?" he asked with a little chuckle. "kinda cute."

you blinked slowly, his words catching up with you. "no... librarians work in libraries," you told him as you chewed your lip, "hence the name."

dallas tilted his head to the side and back into place in a shrug, letting out a low hum in acknowledgement. he wasn't the brightest, okay? how was he supposed to know that?

"you work here then?" he asked, despite it being obvious due to your attire and the fact you were cleary putting new stock away.

"mhm, yeah," you told him as you slid the books you were holding into their correct places on the shelf. "been working here for two years or so."

dallas nodded and sucked his cheeks in, rolling his eyes as ponyboy called him over to the exit.

"well," dallas leant down slightly as he got closer to your face, "i s'pose you might be seein' be around here more often," he claimed with a wonky grin.

"what?" you questioned with a furrowed brow, "you like reading?"

"no," dallas shook his head, "i seem to be growing quite fond of you though, darlin'."

you were flattered despite the fact that this was your first proper meeting — you understand why so many girls from your school would talk about him now. you were definitely falling for his charm, that's for sure.

"o— okay... bye," you told him quickly before hurrying back over to the staff room and closing the door. you leant against the wall and cupped your face in your hands, letting out a little screech of embarrassment and gently smacking yourself.

dallas winston had never set foot in a bookstore — and now he would make sure he did at least weekly.

RIVER'S BLURB: DAVI listen. i know this is kinda short i am sorry 😓 but i hope you like it and sorry it literally took me a gazillion years ok byebye