#normally for me if i find a celebrity attractive that’s pretty much it

[halfmoonaria]

he doesn’t know

pairing: sub!tara carpenter & dom!female reader

summary: every sunday, she finds herself in the backseat of your car instead—legs shaking, breath hitching, and trying to keep quiet.

warnings: smut (18+), cheating, secret relationship, oral sex (tara receiving), strap-on sex

author’s note: never done this so tell me if it’s too much.

Tara wasn't ashamed. She never had been.

When she was four, she decided she wanted to wear her fairy costume to preschool—not for Halloween, not for a special event, just because she felt like it.

The glittery wings were bent from being stuffed in the dress-up bin too many times, and the tulle skirt was a little too short after a year-long growth spurt, but she didn't care. It made her feel pretty, so she wore it.

Her mom tried to talk her out of it, and Sam sighed like she was already embarrassed on her behalf, but Tara had been stubborn even then.

She had marched out the door, wings bouncing with every step, and refused to acknowledge the weird looks from other kids.

It was the same when she cut her own bangs in the first grade.

She had gotten bored, found a pair of dull craft scissors, and decided she wanted a change. The result was uneven and way too short, a jagged mess that made her mom gasp when she saw it. Sam winced and tried to smooth it down for her, saying she'd regret it when she looked back at pictures.

Tara just shrugged. It was her hair. If she didn't care, then why should anyone else?

That was how she had always been—bold, impulsive, never second-guessing herself. She wasn't reckless, not really, but she never understood the point of worrying about what people thought.

Her parents didn't know where it came from.

Sam was careful, always weighing her choices, always thinking ahead. She cared about things like reputation, about saying the right thing and making the right impression. She was the responsible one, the one who took after their mom, the one who fit into every expectation placed in front of her.

Tara was different.

She did things because she wanted to, because they felt right in the moment. She never thought too hard about whether she should. And when people questioned her, when they looked at her like she was weird or childish, she never let it get to her.

When she was eight, she declared that she was going to be a superhero for career day, no matter how many times her teacher told her to pick something realistic.

And when she was ten, she ran straight into a fight with a kid twice her size because he made fun of her friend's lisp. She had come home with a bloody nose and a proud grin, and Sam had scolded her the whole time she was pressing an ice pack to her face.

"You don't just fight people, Tara," Sam had said, exasperated. "What if he had really hurt you?"

"He didn't," Tara had replied. "And he won't make fun of her again."

That was what mattered to her—doing what she felt was right, standing by the choices she made, never letting anyone make her feel small.

And shame? That wasn't something she carried.

When other kids went through awkward phases, blushing at old photos or cringing at past decisions, Tara barely blinked. She had no regrets, no embarrassment. She never understood why Sam stressed over things like reputation or what people might whisper behind her back.

Tara didn't let people's opinions shape her. She never had. She was bold, confident, completely sure of herself in a way that most kids weren't.

But that didn't mean she was immune to normal things. Crushes, for example.

Her first celebrity crush had been Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You. She was barely old enough to understand what a crush was, but she knew she liked watching him. He had that effortless charm, that mischievous smile—she figured that was what people meant when they said someone was attractive.

But as she got older, that crush faded.

She expected another one to take its place. That's how it worked, right? You grew up, your tastes changed, you found someone new to fawn over.

Except... she didn't.

At least, not the way she was supposed to.

Because when she rewatched the movie, waiting for that familiar feeling to settle in at the sight of Heath's smirk, it never came. Instead, she felt something entirely different—something she didn't understand—when Julia Stiles appeared on screen.

It wasn't just that she admired her. It wasn't just that she thought she was cool. It was the way her stomach flipped at the sharpness of her voice, the confidence in her posture. It was the way she suddenly found herself hyper-fixated on the little things—her smirk, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, the sharp glint in her eyes when she delivered a cutting remark.

And it wasn't just her.

It was the girl in her chemistry class with the pretty hands. The soccer captain who always had her hair in a messy bun. The stranger she saw at the mall, dressed in a leather jacket and looking effortlessly cool.

But she didn't get it.

Because that wasn't supposed to happen.

She had always been confident in who she was. She never questioned herself, never second-guessed her choices. But this? This threw her off. It didn't fit into the version of herself she had always known.

So, for the first time in her life, she did the one thing she never thought she would.

She ignored it.

At least, she tried to.

But it was impossible to ignore something that followed her everywhere. Her eyes drifted—unintentionally at first, but then with growing awareness. The girls in her classes, the ones at the mall, the cashier at the grocery store. It wasn't just about noticing them, either. It was the way her stomach tensed when a girl laughed in that soft, pretty way, or the heat that crept up her neck when one of them brushed past her too closely.

And then there were the movies.

She used to argue hard whenever Mindy and Annika suggested a rom-com over a horror flick. But lately? She still huffed, still acted annoyed, but the protests weren't as strong as before. And when a sex scene came on, she didn't roll her eyes or fake gag anymore.

Because the problem was, she was watching.

Not the man. Never the man.

Her focus lingered elsewhere—on the curves of a woman's body, the softness of her skin, the way her lips parted on a moan. Tara didn't mean to stare, didn't mean to feel anything, but she did.

And that terrified her more than any horror movie ever could.

Not because she thought it was wrong. Tara hadn't grown up in a religious household, where being gay was condemned, or in a place where she'd been taught to believe it was unnatural. Her family never gave her any reason to think she couldn't be whoever she wanted, love whoever she wanted.

She had lesbian friends, gay friends. Mindy was out and proud, never hesitating to call a girl hot in the middle of a conversation. No one ever looked twice. It was normal. Accepted. Fine.

So why didn't it feel fine for her?

She knew it wasn't wrong—she wasn't stupid. She'd never side-eyed anyone for being into girls, never thought twice when someone came out. But somehow, when it was her—when the label curled around her throat and squeezed—it felt different.

Tara had spent her whole life knowing exactly who she was. She had never been unsure. She was bold. Confident. Unapologetic. She cut her own bangs with safety scissors when she was six and shrugged when Sam gasped at the mess she made.

She wore her Halloween costume from last year to school in the middle of March because she liked it. When she made a decision, she stuck to it, never second-guessed herself, never hesitated.

But this? This wasn't something she chose.

It crept up on her, slithered into her brain like an unwanted thought, a splinter she couldn't pull out. And it was infuriating, because she had never questioned herself before—never felt like she had to.

And yet, here she was.

Staring too long at girls in her classes, feeling her chest go tight when a woman laughed a certain way, blinking too fast at the TV whenever a female character undressed.

This wasn't supposed to happen to her.

It was okay for other people to be gay. She never questioned that. It was fine, normal, good for them. But when she looked at herself, at the thought of admitting it, of saying it out loud—it felt impossible. Like it didn't belong to her. Like the rules were different for her, even though she knew, logically, they weren't.

Maybe that was what scared her the most.

That for the first time in her life, she wasn't sure of herself.

That for the first time in her life, she felt ashamed.

She hated it. Hated how it made her feel like a stranger in her own skin, like she had something to hide when she had never hidden anything in her life.

And the worst part? Mindy was starting to notice.

Or maybe she wasn't. Maybe she was just being Mindy, teasing for the sake of getting a rise out of her like she always did. But Tara felt exposed all the same, like she was standing in the middle of a room with a spotlight on her, like any second now someone would call her out and she wouldn't have a damn thing to say in return.

It started small.

It started with little things. A smirk when a pretty girl passed by. A knowing look when Tara stumbled over her words around someone attractive. A casual, So, you got a thing for brunettes now? when Tara glanced at someone for half a second too long.

It was nothing. Just jokes. But every time, Tara felt a spike of panic she couldn't shake.

Because she wasn't used to this—this hesitation, this awareness of herself. Normally, if someone called her out on something, she'd just own it. Shrug it off. Yeah, so what? But now, the idea of admitting anything made her stomach twist.

She could play it off, roll her eyes, throw a sarcastic comment back. But Mindy wasn't stupid. And she wasn't letting it go.

One night, they were walking back from a party when Mindy casually nudged her side and said, You totally froze up when that girl talked to you.

Tara scoffed, stuffing her hands into her jacket pockets. I did not.

You did. And you were blushing.

I don't blush.

Mindy had just grinned, like she had already made up her mind. Uh-huh. Sure.

Tara had let it go, pretended it didn't bother her. But later, alone in her room, she caught herself replaying the interaction in her head, her chest tightening with frustration.

Why did she care so much?

Why did it matter what Mindy thought?

Maybe because deep down, she wasn't entirely sure Mindy was wrong.

And if Mindy could see it, then who else could?

That was what scared her the most. Because Mindy wasn't wrong. That was the worst part.

And whenever Mindy made comments about it, Tara would scoff, roll her eyes, shove her shoulder, mutter something about reaching—

But every time, her pulse would quicken, her ears would burn, and she'd feel the panic rise in her chest like a tidal wave.

It wasn't just the waitress at the diner, the one with the dimples and the low-cut uniform. It wasn't just the girl in her sociology class, the one with the raspy voice who always showed up with a cold brew and a half-smirk. It was everywhere.

At the gym, when she caught herself watching the way a girl tied up her ponytail, the smooth shift of her muscles.

At the grocery store, when she found herself staring just a little too long at the woman reaching for something on the top shelf, her shirt lifting just enough to reveal a sliver of her stomach.

At movie night, when she no longer protested the romance movies Mindy and Anika picked—because she didn't mind watching them anymore.

That was the real problem. Because she still hated the cheesy dialogue and the unrealistic plotlines, but whenever there was a sex scene, whenever a woman undressed, Tara wasn't looking away.

She didn't want to.

And that terrified her.

Because it wasn't just a thought anymore, wasn't just something lurking in the back of her mind that she could ignore. It was becoming real, something she couldn't control. She started feeling like people could see it—like it was written all over her, like she had a neon sign above her head flashing Tara Carpenter likes girls.

And maybe nobody actually noticed. Maybe nobody gave a damn. But it didn't matter because she felt exposed anyway, like someone could call her out at any second. Like Mindy's teasing wasn't just teasing anymore—like it was an accusation.

It was in the way people looked at her, in the way her own skin felt too tight, too obvious. She started overthinking every little thing—how long she looked at a girl, whether she was staring, whether her voice sounded different when she spoke to someone pretty. Whether she was acting different.

And the worst part was that she didn't even know if she was right. She didn't know if people actually saw something in her that she hadn't seen before, or if she was just losing her mind over nothing. But it didn't matter. The fear was there, real and suffocating, and it was eating her alive.

So she did the only thing she could think to do.

She got a boyfriend.

Or, more accurately, she asked Chad out.

It wasn't some grand realization. It wasn't even a well-thought-out decision. It was desperation. Panic. Like a reflex, like slamming the brakes at the last second before a crash.

And Chad just happened to be there.

And in a way, it made sense. She'd known him forever. Before high school, before college, before parties and liquor and sneaking out when Sam wasn't looking. He was familiar. Safe. He liked her. Everyone knew that.

Ever since sixth grade, people had whispered about it. Girls in their class used to giggle and nudge each other whenever Chad so much as looked at her. It was obvious.

He was the guy who always found excuses to talk to her, who laughed a little too hard at her jokes, who got weirdly competitive when she dated someone else, even when there was no reason to be.

So when she asked him out, there was no hesitation.

He said yes before she even finished the sentence.

And that was supposed to be it.

She had a boyfriend now. That was supposed to fix everything.

It was supposed to make things go away—the butterflies in her stomach, the heat crawling up her neck whenever a girl smiled at her, the way she noticed things she wasn't supposed to notice.

It was supposed to make Mindy shut up.

It was supposed to be easy.

But it wasn't.

If anything, it only got worse.

At first, she told herself it was working. That it was fine. She had a boyfriend. She was in a relationship. If people had questions before, they wouldn't anymore.

And it wasn't like she hated Chad. He was sweet. Affectionate. A little too eager sometimes, but that wasn't new. And for a while, she let herself believe that this was how it was supposed to be.

But then he kissed her.

And it wasn't bad. There was nothing wrong with it. His lips were soft, his hands were warm, he knew what he was doing. But for some reason, Tara felt wrong.

Like she was trying to force something that wasn't there.

And maybe that would've been fine if it was just the kissing. If it stopped at making out on his couch, at him pulling her into his lap at parties, at his arm draped lazily around her shoulders.

But it didn't stop.

And that was when the real problem started.

Because the first time they had sex, she didn't feel relieved.

She felt nothing.

No spark, no excitement, no rush of pleasure or warmth curling through her stomach. Just the uncomfortable realization that she was waiting for it to feel like something more.

And it never did.

She knew what sex was supposed to feel like—what it was supposed to do to her. But with Chad, it was just... there. Mechanical. Predictable. And all she could think about was whether it would be different if it were a woman.

Would a woman's lips feel softer than Chad's? Would her moans be louder? Would Tara's own moans sound different—less forced, less careful—if she wasn't holding back, if she actually wanted it?

Would the right spots be hit without her having to guide him there?

Would she ache for it the way she was supposed to?

She didn't know.

But she wanted to.

And THAT was the worst part. Because she wasn't supposed to be thinking about this. She wasn't supposed to be comparing. But every time Chad touched her, every time his hands slipped under her shirt, every time he pressed her into the mattress and murmured her name against her skin, she found herself wondering.

Would it feel better?

Would it feel right?

And once that thought was in her head, it wouldn't leave.

No matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she wanted to be normal, it wasn't working.

And with every day that passed, she started to realize—maybe it never would.

That thought alone should have terrified her. Should have made her try harder to make things with Chad work, to prove to herself that this was just a phase, a weird glitch in her brain that she could push through.

But instead, it just made her angry.

Because she had done everything RIGHT. She had played by the rules, followed the script, done exactly what she was supposed to do. And yet, here she was, stuck in her own damn head, questioning things she shouldn’t be questioning.

And it didn't help that you existed.

You weren't someone that necessarily stood out in a crowd—not in the way Mindy did, always loud, always on, impossible to ignore. But Tara knew you.

Everybody did.

Because you weren't just out, you were openly out. Unapologetically. The kind of gay that didn't need to be announced because it was just there. The way you dressed, the way you carried yourself, the way you talked about girls without ever hesitating.

Mindy was the same way, sure, but Mindy was Mindy. She had always been that way—loud, cocky, the self-proclaimed expert on all things queer.

But you? You weren't loud. You weren't in people's faces about it. You just were. And for some reason, that made it so much worse.

Because it meant Tara couldn't ignore you.

And she had tried.

God, had she tried.

But no matter what, her eyes always seemed to find you at parties, leaning against a wall with a drink in hand, laughing at something someone said. Or in class, when you stretched in your seat, the hem of your shirt riding up just a little. Or when you passed by in the hall, chatting with Anika about some girl you had hooked up with the weekend before.

It made Tara's stomach twist in ways she didn't understand.

Because she wasn't jealous. Not really.

So then why did she care?

Why did it bother her so much?

Why did she hate how easy it seemed for you? How you never hesitated, never stumbled over your words, never had to second-guess every single thing you felt?

Maybe that's why she had looked at you that night at the party.

Maybe that's why she had kept looking.

And maybe that's why, when she finally realized you had caught her, she couldn't bring herself to look away.

The party had been the same as every other frat party—loud, overcrowded, the air thick with cheap beer and sweat and the distant scent of weed. The living room was packed, music shaking the walls, bodies pressed together, some dancing, some just using it as an excuse to grope each other. The kitchen was worse, sticky floors and an overworked fridge stuffed with liquor bottles, people shouting over each other as they took shots, beer pong cups scattered across every available surface.

It wasn't Tara's scene. Not really. But Mindy had dragged her out, Anika too, and after a couple of drinks, the haze had settled in just enough to make it bearable.

And then she had seen you.

She hadn't even known you were going to be there. But one second, she was standing near the edge of the living room, half-listening to some guy rant about his business major, and the next, her eyes had locked onto you—and everything else just faded into background noise.

Because you weren't just there.

You were hot.

Tara had always known you were attractive in the way someone KNOWS things without really thinking about it. She had eyes. She wasn't blind. But that night, it hit her. It knocked the air from her lungs, settled thick and heavy in the pit of her stomach, made her pulse in places she shouldn't have been thinking about.

The alcohol made it worse.

She should've been angry—angry that you were here, that you were making her feel things she didn't want to feel. But she wasn't.

She was just staring.

Her grip tightened around her cup, her lips parted slightly as she took you in—your outfit, the way it hugged your body in all the right places, the effortless confidence in the way you carried yourself.

You weren't wearing something basic, like a black cat or a schoolgirl outfit. No, you were dressed as something that exuded confidence, something cocky—mafia boss style, but with a spin that made it impossible to ignore.

A fitted black blazer, tailored to perfection, cinched at the waist with a sleek belt. Underneath, a deep-cut silk blouse, the first few buttons undone just enough to tease, the fabric clinging to your frame in a way that made it hard not to look.

The skirt was short—really short—hugging your hips before stopping dangerously high on your thighs, paired with sheer black stockings that ran smooth down to your heels.

A fake cigar rested between your fingers, just for the effect, and a thin gold chain sat against your collarbone, glinting under the dim party lights. The whole look screamed power, control— trouble.

Tara's body reacted before her brain could catch up.

Her stomach tightened. Her thighs pressed together instinctively, and she felt a rush of heat spread through her—low and needy and completely out of her control.

Because you weren't even trying. You weren't flirting with her, weren't giving her any special attention. You were just existing—laughing with your friends, a drink in hand, head tilting back slightly as you said something that made them all grin.

And yet, Tara felt like she was the one being hunted.

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't normal.

And the second you turned your head, the second your eyes met hers, the smirk that tugged at your lips was enough to make her stomach drop.

Because Tara had never expected you to actually notice her.

She had been staring, sure—longer than she should have, more obviously than she meant to. But the idea of you catching her? The idea of you actually seeing her? That hadn't even crossed her mind.

She was frozen for a second, unsure if she should look away, pretend she hadn’t been blatantly checking you out.

But before she could decide, you were already moving—pushing off the counter with an effortless kind of confidence, weaving through the crowd like you had all the time in the world.

And you didn't hesitate. Didn't stop. Walked straight up to her like you had known her for years, like there was no question about it, like this was something that had always been meant to happen.

For a second, she thought you were going to say something cocky. Something teasing, something about the way she had been looking at you, something that would make her panic spike even higher.

Instead, you had just said her name.

Like it was obvious. Like of course you knew who she was.

Tara didn't even remember what she had said back, because her mind had been caught on you. On the way you leaned in a little when you talked, the way you smelled like expensive perfume and vodka, the way the room was too loud but she could still hear you.

And the worst part? She could barely even keep her gaze up.

Her eyes kept drifting—down to the smooth skin of your collarbone, the gold chain resting against it. Lower, to where your silk blouse was open just enough to show a teasing amount of cleavage.

She had snapped her gaze back up quickly, hoping you hadn't noticed.

You had.

After that, she didn't remember much. At least, not in detail.

She remembered you handing her another drink, remembered the feeling of your fingers brushing hers. She remembered how your lips looked around the rim of your glass, how you licked a drop of alcohol off your bottom lip without thinking. She remembered how close you stood, how the warmth of your body practically wrapped around hers, even though you weren't touching.

And she remembered that the second she was with you, she stopped thinking about HIM.

Chad was somewhere—probably off doing some stupid drinking challenge with his teammates, yelling over a game of beer pong, flexing or showing off or whatever the hell he and his sport-obsessed friends did. But the important thing was that he wasn't here.

And Tara didn’t care.

He didn't cross her mind once. Not when you leaned in to say something against her ear, your breath warm against her skin. Not when you laughed at something she said and touched her arm, your fingers grazing her through the sleeve of her jacket. Not when your eyes flicked down to her lips and back up again, slow, deliberate.

And definitely not when she found herself tilting her head, when the alcohol made her bold enough to not overthink, when she kissed you before she could stop herself.

That part was hazy.

All she knew was that one second, you were standing close, and the next, her lips were on yours. And she didn't regret it. Not even a little.

She didn't know who pulled who. Didn't know how it had escalated so quickly. All she knew was that at some point, your fingers curled around her wrist, and she let you guide her through the crowd, past the bodies pressed together, past the couples making out in dark corners, past the booming music.

And then you were in a bedroom.

And that was where everything really started.

Tara barely remembered how you got there. One moment, the party had been a blur of flashing lights and pounding music, the heat of bodies pressing in on her from all sides.

And then, suddenly, it was just you. Just the two of you, the noise of the party fading behind a closed door, leaving nothing but the sound of her own breathing and the pounding of her pulse.

Fuck.

She should have hesitated. She should have thought about Chad. But she didn't.

Not when you were this close, your scent filling her nose—something dark and sweet, like vanilla and smoke. Not when your fingers brushed her wrist, sending a spark up her arm. Not when your gaze flickered down to her mouth like you already knew exactly what she wanted.

And then your lips were on hers, and—fuck.

It wasn't like kissing Chad. With him, it had always been easy, predictable. She knew what to expect, what it would feel like. But this? This was something else entirely. Your lips were softer, but the way you kissed her was anything but. You didn't just kiss—you took. You grabbed her, pulled her into you, kissed her like you owned her.

Tara barely even noticed when her back hit the door. Not when your hands slid beneath her top, fingers ghosting over her ribs, dragging up her sides. Not when your knee pressed between her thighs, making her suck in a sharp breath.

She had never felt like this before.

With Chad, she had always been able to keep a part of herself detached. But with you? There was no thinking. No overanalyzing. Just the sharp, intoxicating press of your body against hers, the way your mouth trailed down her jaw, her neck, biting just hard enough to make her gasp.

Her hands moved on their own, slipping beneath your blazer, pushing it off your shoulders. She barely had time to register the sound of it hitting the floor before her fingers were on the buttons of your shirt, fumbling as she pulled it open.

And then she saw you.

The smooth curve of your shoulders, the way the dim lighting cast shadows along your stomach. The black lace of your bra, barely covering your chest. She couldn't stop staring. Couldn't stop wanting.

You grinned like you knew exactly what was going through her mind, and then your hands were on her thighs, gripping tight as you lifted her onto the dresser. Her legs parted without hesitation, wrapping around your waist as your lips crashed back against hers.

Tara didn't remember how her top came off, only that suddenly she was half-naked, her back pressed against the mirror, your hands roaming her body like you needed to touch every inch of her.

And then you were lowering yourself, trailing kisses down her chest, over her stomach, sinking to your knees between her thighs.

Her breath hitched.

Chad had never done this.

And when your mouth pressed against her, when your tongue flicked against her in a way that made her spine arch—

She knew.

This was what she had been craving all along.

And Tara still remembered it.

It wasn't just that it had felt good—it was the way it had felt right. The way her body had reacted to every touch, every flick of your tongue, every bite, every fucking thing you did to her like she had been waiting for it her whole life without even knowing.

She had never felt euphoric before. Never felt her limbs go weak, her head go light, her stomach twist with something dangerously close to desperation. But that night, with your hands gripping her thighs, your mouth between them, your voice murmuring something low and filthy against her skin—it was like a switch had flipped.

With Chad, it had always been just...fine. Nice, in the way that it was supposed to be.

He touched her the way a boyfriend should.

He kissed her the way a boyfriend should.

He made sure she was taken care of, in the way that a boyfriend should.

And Tara had always figured that was enough.

But this?

This was something else entirely.

It was the way you didn't just kiss her—you devoured her. Like she was something to be tasted, something to be enjoyed. It was the way your hands gripped her like you needed her closer, the way your nails dragged over her thighs, the way your tongue moved like you knew exactly how to make her fall apart.

And fuck, did she fall apart.

She had never been this loud before. She had never shaken like this, never clutched at the sheets, never let her head fall back, mouth open, eyes squeezed shut as you pulled every single sound out of her like you owned them.

And you did.

Because it wasn't just what you were doing—it was the way you did it. The way you looked up at her with those fucking eyes, the way you didn't stop, not even when she swore she couldn't take any more, not even when her legs trembled around your shoulders.

And when she finally did come apart, gasping your name, head thrown back, body arching, back hitting the mirror so hard she thought it might crack—she had never felt something like that before.

She knew it was wrong.

She should have felt guilty. She should have felt sick to her stomach, ashamed, horrified at what she had just done. She had Chad—sweet, loyal Chad—waiting for her somewhere downstairs, probably wondering where she had disappeared to. She had a boyfriend, and she had just—

But it didn't feel wrong.

It should have. God, it should have. She should have been scrambling for her clothes, should have been choking on regret, should have been thinking of ways to explain it away. But instead, all she could feel was the aftershocks still pulsing through her body, the ghost of your hands on her skin, the warm, lazy hum in her limbs.

It didn't feel like a mistake.

It didn't feel like something to regret.

It felt like something she had needed.

But she should have pushed you away.

She should have looked at you with disgust, should have spat out some excuse about being drunk, about making a mistake, about how this wasn’t her, about how this couldn’t happen again.

But she didn't.

Because it didn't feel like a mistake.

And when you moved closer, when your fingers trailed lazily over her bare skin, when your lips brushed against her neck as if you were inviting her to take more—to take everything—Tara didn't pull away.

Instead, before she could even think, before she could stop herself, she heard herself asking if you could do this again sometime.

The words had slipped out so easily, like she had been waiting to say them, like they had been sitting on the tip of her tongue for months, just waiting for the chance to be spoken.

And when you smirked, when you leaned in and murmured something she could barely register through the haze in her head, when your lips brushed over hers one last time before pulling away—Tara knew.

She wasn't going to stop.

She couldn’t stop.

Because no matter how wrong it was, no matter how much she should have felt guilty—she wanted it. And that was the worst part.

Or maybe the worst part was that it happened again.

She should have known it would.

Because the moment she walked out of that frat house, the moment she left you behind in that bedroom, she couldn't stop thinking about you. About what had happened. About how fucking good it had felt.

She should have felt guilty.

She should have gone home, called Chad, done something to make this feel like a mistake. But instead, she laid in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, body still humming, hands gripping the sheets because she couldn't fucking sleep—because she wanted more.

And then, a few days later, she got a text.

meet me in ten.

No context. No explanation. Just an address and a ticking clock.

She shouldn't have gone.

But she did.

She told herself she wasn't going for that, that she just wanted to see what you had to say, that she just wanted to—fuck, she didn't know. But she found herself getting in her car anyway, her hands tightening around the wheel the closer she got.

The address you had sent led her to an empty parking lot just outside of town, the kind of place people went when they didn't want to be seen. Your car was parked in the farthest corner, backed up against a row of trees, tinted windows hiding whatever happened inside.

It was the perfect spot.

And Tara knew exactly why you had picked it.

Her heart was pounding when she parked beside you. Her body was already warm, already tingling with anticipation as she climbed into your passenger seat.

And the second you looked at her—smirking like you knew she had been thinking about this all fucking week—she realized she had been waiting for this to happen again.

That was how it started.

One meeting turned into two.

Two turned into three.

And then, before she even knew how it had happened, it became a routine.

Every Sunday.

A text. A location. Your car parked somewhere no one would find you. And then hands on skin, lips crashing together, nails dragging, teeth biting, clothes being pushed aside because neither of you ever had the patience to take them off completely.

She knew it was fucked up.

She knew it was wrong.

But that didn't stop her from showing up every damn week.

And the worst part wasn't that she was lying.

It was how she was lying.

Because of all the excuses she could have used—homework, hangouts with Mindy, anything that actually made sense—the one she found herself using the most was that she was going to church.

Fucking church.

She didn't even believe in anything. Had never been the type to sit through a sermon, had never even entertained the idea of faith, and yet—somehow—Chad never questioned it.

Maybe it was because he was just that gullible. Maybe it was because he wasn't used to suspecting her of anything. Or maybe it was because, despite knowing her for over a year, he didn't know her as well as he thought he did.

Either way, every Sunday when she told him she couldn't hang out, when she said she had to go to mass, when she put on some half-assed ugh my mom’s making me go tone, he just accepted it.

Told her to have fun.

Asked her what the sermon was about later.

And Tara had to sit there, staring at her phone, trying to come up with some bullshit answer while still catching her breath.

Because she hadn't been in church.

She hadn't been in church.

She hadn't been praying.

She had been on her knees, mouth wrapped around your cocky little smirk, hands digging into your thighs. She had been moaning a name that wasn't his, head thrown back against the seat, panting like she had just run a marathon.

She had been gripping the leather interior with trembling fingers, legs wrapped around your head with the strength of metal bars, back arching so hard she thought she might snap in two.

And Chad had gone about his Sunday completely clueless.

___

"Fuck." Tara moaned, breath hitching, nails digging into your back as her head hit the window.

Like every other Sunday.

The windows were fogged up, streaked with condensation, the air inside thick with heat and the sharp scent of sweat.

The car rocked slightly with every movement, the backseat cramped but familiar, the leather sticking to her skin. It had been like this every time—fast, desperate, no hesitation.

You'd barely gotten inside before she was pulling you to the back, mouths crashing together, hands tugging at clothes, both of you too impatient to take your time.

Now, she was spread out beneath you, thighs trembling against your shoulders, fingers tangled in your hair as your tongue worked her over like you had all the time in the world.

Her skirt pushed up, undergarments long forgotten, her shirt still halfway on, bunched up under her ribs from when you'd shoved it out of the way. The feeling of your mouth on her was enough to send her spiraling, but it was the way you held her there—firm, unrelenting, like you had no plans of stopping anytime soon—that made her body shake with every flick of your tongue.

She could hear herself, the obscene wet sounds mixing with her ragged breaths, the moans she couldn't hold back no matter how hard she bit her lip. She had never sounded like this before, not with Chad, not with anyone.

It was a different kind of pleasure—overwhelming, raw, like her entire body was caught in a storm she couldn't control. Every Sunday, it was the same. You had her unraveling, melting under your touch, forgetting everything except the way you made her feel.

She didn't even realize she was grinding against your face until your grip tightened on her thighs, holding her still as you sucked at her clit just right. Her back arched, a sharp cry spilling from her lips, her mind blanking completely. Fuck. She was close. Already. Again. It was always like this with you.

And Chad had no idea.

Tara's head tilted back, lips parting, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps. "Oh my—fuck, just like that—" Her voice broke around the words, half a moan, half a plea.

She could barely think, her mind slipping into static, body tightening under your touch. Every drag of your tongue sent another pulse of pleasure through her, her hands fisting the fabric of your jacket like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

The air was thick, heavy, carrying the sound of her moans, the quiet creak of the leather beneath her, the wet, obscene noises of your mouth working her over.

It should've been embarrassing—the way she was falling apart so quickly, the way she could already feel the heat coiling in her stomach, twisting tighter and tighter—but it wasn't. Not with you.

Your grip on her thighs tightened as you hummed against her, and Tara nearly lost it. A broken cry ripped from her throat, her body jerking, hips bucking up against your face. "Oh, shit—" Her fingers scrambled for something to hold onto, one slipping into your hair, gripping tight. "Don't stop—don't—"

Like you ever would.

She felt the way you smirked against her, cocky as ever, before your tongue flicked over her clit in slow, deliberate strokes that had her whimpering, her legs shaking. "Jesus, you're so—fuck." Her voice was wrecked, raw, words tumbling out before she could stop them.

She wanted to say something more—something coherent—but the way you sucked at her clit, the way your nails dug into her hips, the way she could already feel herself spiraling again—

She was gone.

Tara came with a strangled moan, her whole body tensing, back arching, thighs tightening around your head like she never wanted to let go. Her hands gripped your hair, pulling, as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her, leaving her breathless, trembling. Her head lolled back against the window, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted as she tried to catch her breath.

And then she felt it—your hands smoothing over her thighs, your mouth pulling away, your breath warm against her skin. She forced her eyes open, still hazy, only to be met with your gaze—dark, intense, that fucking smirk tugging at your lips. Like you knew exactly what you'd just done to her.

But you weren't judging.

You just watched her, taking in the way she was still trying to recover, the way her chest rose and fell, the way her skin was flushed. Then, slowly, you dragged your hands down her legs, prying them from where they were still locked around you, letting them fall slack against the leather seat.

"So," you mused, voice low, teasing. "What excuse did you use this time?"

Tara bit her lip, still catching her breath, her fingers twitching against the seat as she let out a shaky little laugh. "Would you believe me if I said shopping?"

You raised an eyebrow, amused.

Shopping. That had been the excuse this time. And for a moment, Chad had actually questioned it—had cocked his head, confused, when she told him she was heading out alone. Shopping wasn't really her thing, at least not solo. But then he just shrugged, distracted by something on his phone, and that was that. No suspicion, no follow-up questions.

Tara had almost felt guilty for how easy it was. Almost.

She should have felt guilty now, too—sitting there, legs still weak, skin still flushed, while you smirked at her like you knew exactly how ruined she was.

But the moment she saw you shift, reaching for your bag, zipping it open with a deliberate slowness, guilt was the last thing on her mind.

"Well," you murmured, pulling something from inside, "I've done some shopping."

Tara's breath caught when she saw what it was.

A strap.

It was sleek, black, and bigger than Chad's actual one—noticeably so.

Tara swallowed. You and she had talked about this before. The first time you brought it up, she had barely hesitated before agreeing, because she had been sure—certain—that the whole P in V thing would be different with you. Better. More enjoyable. And after everything else you'd done to her, she had no doubt about that.

Still, she found herself shifting in place, heart picking up, torn between excitement and nerves. She hadn't done this with you before. Hadn't done this with any girl before. But fuck—just the sight of it, the thought of it, had heat curling low in her stomach all over again.

Tara gulped, eyes locked on the strap, but her mind was already ahead—already picturing it all before it even happened. How it would feel. How you would feel.

You didn't move yet. Just scanned her face, like you were waiting for some hesitation, some sign that she would be scared off. But she wasn't. She couldn't be.

Your smirk deepened, head tilting just slightly, the unspoken question clear in your eyes—want to?

Tara nodded. Too fast. Too desperate. She knew that. But she did.

So she moved without thinking, shifting onto all fours, her knees pressing into the worn leather of the backseat. Her back arched slightly, her hands splayed out in front of her as she tried to steady herself, breathing uneven.

Behind her, she could hear you—hear the rustle of fabric, the soft sound of buckles being adjusted, the quiet exhale you let out as you fit the strap into place. Then the warmth of your hand running down her back, over her hips, fingers brushing between her thighs before you paused.

Her stomach tensed at the thought. At the thought.

She swallowed hard, her fingers curling into fists where they rested against the seat. Then your hands were on her again—trailing down her spine, over the curve of her hips, fingertips brushing against her thighs, teasing her. She shuddered at the touch, hips rolling back instinctively, already seeking more.

You let out a quiet chuckle, low and teasing, before pressing yourself against her, letting her feel the weight of it. She sucked in a breath, her entire body tightening at the sensation alone.

You asked if she was ready.

She barely managed to whisper yes before you pushed in.

Her mouth fell open, a sharp, broken sound leaving her as her body stretched around you. Her arms nearly gave out beneath her, and her head dropped forward, forehead pressing against the window.

It was almost like the pleasure rushed straight to her eyes, like it was so intense she couldn't even see for a moment—just a wave of heat, of pressure, of something she had never felt before.

The first thrust was slow, teasing, like you were letting her feel every inch of it before pulling back just as carefully. Even that had her sucking in a sharp breath, fingers twitching against the seat beneath her.

The stretch, the fullness—it was overwhelming in a way she hadn't expected. It was nothing like before. It was so much more. And when you did it again, thrusting just a little deeper, just a little harder, a gasp tore from her lips.

You didn't stop. Your hips snapped forward again, finding a rhythm that was steady but deep, every push forcing her further into the seat. The car rocked just slightly with each movement, the damp heat of the space making every sensation ten times more intense. The sounds of it—of skin meeting skin, of wet, filthy noises between her legs—filled her ears, mixed with the ragged breaths leaving both of you.

And the moans.

Tara bit her lip, trying to quiet herself, but it was impossible. A moan ripped from her throat as you hit a spot that made her whole body jolt, the muscles in her stomach tensing. Her head tipped forward, forehead pressing harder into the window, fogging it up even more. It was getting harder to hold herself up, her arms already trembling from the effort of staying up on all fours, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

Not when you sounded like that.

The breathy little grunts leaving your lips—low and raspy, like you were getting just as lost in it as she was—made something coil tight in her stomach. She wished she could see you. She tried to picture your face behind her, how your brows must've been furrowed, how your mouth was probably open, panting, the way your jaw clenched every time she clenched around you.

"Jesus—" The word came out of her before she could stop it, breathless and desperate, her voice shaking. She felt you smirk against her back, your lips ghosting over her spine before nipping at her shoulder, sending a shiver down her body.

"What's wrong, baby?" you murmured, voice dripping with amusement.

Tara's breath hitched.

It wasn't just what you said. It was how you said it—so low, so full of amusement, like you knew exactly what you were doing to her, like you loved watching her fall apart beneath you. And baby. Fuck, she hadn't expected that. The way it sounded coming from your mouth—rough, teasing, possessive—sent heat surging through her body.

She whimpered, fingers clawing at the seat. Her hips rolled back against you, desperate, wordlessly begging for more.

Then.

A buzzing cut through the thick air, sharp and insistent, demanding attention.

Tara barely registered it at first, still too caught up in the aftershocks of everything—her heavy breathing, the way her body still pulsed around you, the lingering heat of your hands gripping her hips. But then you stopped moving, and her moan died in her throat, leaving only the sound of her own ragged breaths and that damn vibration filling the car.

Then she turned her head slightly, trying to glance back at you.

You didn't look worried. Not even a little. If anything, you looked amused. Your eyes gleamed with something dark, something teasing, as you tilted your head toward the phone in a silent suggestion. Check it.

Tara swallowed. Her whole body felt hot, sweat sticking to her skin, thighs still twitching around you. The last thing she wanted to do was answer her phone right now, but the vibrating didn't stop. Whoever it was, they weren't giving up.

She exhaled sharply, adjusting her weight on her knees before reaching forward, stretching as far as she could without moving off of you. It wasn't easy. Her back arched deeper, pushing her against you even more, making her even more aware of where you still were, thick and unmoving inside her.

She tried to keep quiet, to focus, but the angle sent a wave of pressure through her core, and a quiet, breathy moan slipped out before she could stop it.

She clenched her jaw, swallowing hard, and finally grasped the phone. Her fingers were slick with sweat, struggling to get a grip as she flipped it over in her palm. She held it tightly, worried it might slip right out of her hand with how weak she felt.

Her breath was uneven as she turned the screen over, eyes flicking to the caller ID.

Her stomach dropped.

Chad.

Tara's grip on the phone tightened as she stared at Chad's name on the screen, her pulse hammering against her ribs.

Her first thought was that she couldn't possibly answer. There was no way. Not like this—shaky, breathless, body still stretched and filled, the heat of you pressing against her skin. She wasn't even sure if she could form a coherent sentence right now, let alone talk to Chad without him immediately knowing something was off.

Slowly, as if in a daze, she tilted the phone just slightly so you could see.

Your gaze flicked down, taking in the name without any hint of concern, and Tara swore she saw the corner of your mouth twitch up like you were actually enjoying this. Like it amused you how completely fucked she was in this moment.

She gulped, feeling her breath hitch, fingers twitching around the device. Her mind spun, spiraling into every possible excuse she could come up with, every reason she had to not answer. Maybe she could just ignore it—say she was busy, say she didn't hear it, say her phone died. He wouldn't suspect anything, right? He never did. He never even—

Your voice cut through her thoughts, low and smooth. "Answer it."

Tara's breath caught in her throat. She blinked, eyes snapping to you, like she wasn't sure she'd heard you right. "What?"

Your smirk deepened. You leaned in, just enough for her to feel your breath ghost over her shoulder. And then, slower this time—deliberate, teasing, dripping with amusement—you repeated, "Answer the phone."

Her body tensed. Her stomach flipped. Her throat felt like it had closed up completely. There was no way. She shook her head, already stammering, "I—I can't—"

But before she could even finish, you gripped her hips and pulled her back onto the strap, burying yourself deeper with one swift motion.

Tara choked on a loud, surprised moan, her body jolting, the phone nearly slipping from her fingers.

She barely had a second to recover before your voice came again, low and firm and completely in control.

"Answer him, Tara."

So she did.

Because she couldn't say no to you—not when you made her feel like this. Not when her whole body was on fire, every nerve ignited, pulsing with heat. Not when you fucked her like you did, when you had her melting into every single touch, when you knew exactly how to make her fall apart.

Her finger shook as it hovered over the screen, hesitation tightening in her chest. But then, with a sharp inhale, she slid her thumb across to accept the call, bringing the phone up to her ear.

The device was warm, heated from the stuffy air in the car, and when it pressed against her flushed skin, she felt the contrast—felt just how overheated she was, how wrecked she already looked. Her breath wavered as she tried to pull herself together, forcing a swallow past the lump in her throat.

Then, as steadily as she could manage—sweet, happy, normal—she breathed out a soft, "Hi, baby."

It almost sounded real. Almost. If not for the slight tremble in her voice, the way it wavered at the edges, betraying her.

Chad didn't seem to notice. "Hey, babe," he greeted easily, his voice light and casual. "You still at the mall? They're closing soon, just wondering when you're heading back."

Tara's stomach twisted. Still at the mall. She barely stopped herself from laughing at the irony. She hadn't been anywhere near the mall. She hadn't been walking around all day, hadn't spent the afternoon wandering stores, browsing through clothes, or carrying shopping bags.

No, she'd spent it in your lap. On her back, on her knees, on all fours. She'd spent it with your hands all over her, your mouth on her, making her come over and over again until her legs had trembled and she thought she might actually black out from the intensity of it.

Chad kept talking, completely oblivious. "Mindy and Anika are having a movie night. Thought we could go, but if you're too tired from walking around all day, I get it."

Tara parted her lips, just about to answer—

And then you moved.

Her breath hitched violently as you pushed back inside her, slow but deep, making her grip the phone tighter. Her eyes fluttered, jaw clenching as she struggled not to react.

You weren't done with her. Not even close.

Her head dipped forward, eyes squeezing shut as you dragged out again, the pace torturously slow. She could hear it, could hear how wet she was, how easily you moved inside her, and the realization sent another wave of heat crashing through her body.

She started nodding—at nothing, at Chad's words, at whatever he was saying—just to distract herself. Just to have something to focus on besides the way you were ruining her.

But then you picked up the pace.

Faster. Harder.

Tara's breathing grew heavier, her mouth falling open as her fingers gripped the phone like a lifeline.

Chad finished talking, clearly waiting for a response.

She gulped, trying to focus, trying so hard to make her voice sound normal.

"Y-yeah, uhm—"

Her breath caught, her body jerking as you rolled your hips just right. She had to bite her lip—hard—to keep herself from making a sound.

You weren't making it easy.

You were deep, hitting the perfect spot every single time, making her entire body feel like it was burning.

Her lips trembled, fingers tightening around the phone as she struggled to push out the words. "I'd—" she inhaled sharply, voice breaking, "—I'd love to go."

Her thighs twitched. She tried so hard to keep herself still, to not move against you, to not push back for more.

She could feel your smirk. Could practically hear the amusement in the way you exhaled through your nose, in the way you didn't stop, didn't slow down.

She sucked in another shaky breath.

"I—" she panted, each syllable shaky, "I'm leaving soon. I'll—" her voice hitched again as you thrust just right, "—I'll text you when I-I'm done."

There was a short pause before Chad's voice came through again, casual, completely unaware.

"Why are you so out of breath?"

Tara's heart practically stopped.

She had to think fast. Her brain scrambled for something, anything, that would make sense, that would explain why she sounded like this.

"I—" her voice wavered, still breathless, "I'm just—trying to make it to Nordstrom before they close."

The lie slipped out before she could even process it.

And the worst part?

He fucking believed it.

"Alright," he said, not suspicious at all. Not even a little. "Just text me when you're on your way home."

Tara could barely focus, barely even hear him over the pounding of her own heart.

And then—then—he added it. The three words she'd been waiting for, dreading, knowing it was coming.

"I love you."

Tara squeezed her eyes shut. "I love you too," she panted out, forcing the words past her lips, rushing to get it over with—

But then you thrust forward. Hard.

So fucking hard.

A sharp cry ripped from her throat before she could stop it, before she could even think. It wasn't just a moan—it was loud, raw, completely unfiltered, and so obviously not the sound of someone running through a mall.

Her eyes flew open, her whole body freezing as panic crashed over her like a wave.

Oh, fuck.

Her mouth hung open, heart hammering, hands clenching around the phone. She felt like she couldn't breathe.

"What the fuck was that?" He let out a small laugh. Not mad. Not suspicious. Just genuinely confused.

Tara's stomach twisted.

She could feel your breath against her skin. Could feel the way you stilled, the way you were watching her, waiting to see what she'd say.

Her brain was a fucking mess, completely scrambled, thoughts running too fast, too panicked.

She had to fix this.

Quickly, she squeezed her eyes shut again. "I stubbed my toe," she rushed out, her voice tight, breathless. Then she forced out a hiss through her teeth, as if to sell it. "Fuck, that hurt."

Chad chuckled on the other end of the line, that same stupid little laugh of his that made Tara's stomach twist. Completely oblivious. Completely unaware of what was happening, what had been happening for weeks now. "God, babe, you're so clumsy."

Tara barely managed to force out a weak "Mhm." It was all she could get out without completely giving herself away.

But the truth was, that sound wasn't for him.

It was for you.

Because she was desperate.

And she needed you to keep going.

She was so fucking close—every muscle in her body was tensed, her thighs trembling where they pressed against the leather seats, her breath coming out in shallow little gasps as she tried to keep some level of composure. And you knew it. You fucking knew it.

She felt the way your hands flexed against her waist, felt the teasing drag of your fingertips as they traced up her stomach, slow, calculated, making her shiver. Felt the way your hips barely moved now, holding back, waiting, making her want to fucking scream.

She wasn't going to make it if Chad kept talking.

Her jaw clenched, and she could already feel herself slipping, feel the heat pooling lower, spreading through her entire body. The pleasure was too much, too overwhelming, and she couldn't be on the phone with Chad when she came.

Her fingers gripped the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white, the screen slick against her sweaty palm. She couldn't even register what Chad was saying anymore, his voice a distant, meaningless hum in the background.

"Well, alright," he finally said, sounding distracted, like he was half paying attention, "just hurry up before they start the movie without us."

You shifted behind her, your fingers pressing just a little harder against her burning skin, and Tara's breath hitched.

She couldn't do this anymore.

Her voice came out rushed, breathless, almost strained—"Yeah, I will—bye."

She fumbled with the phone, barely managing to end the call before her entire body gave out, slumping forward onto her forearms as she let out a shaking exhale.

And then, the second the call disconnected, you slammed into her again.

Her forehead pressed against the window as she let out a choked gasp, her entire body trembling. She was so fucking close—so close she could taste it, feel it in every inch of her, her thighs burning, her back arching as she tried to push herself back against you.

She wasn't even thinking anymore. Couldn't think.

Not with how fucking deep you were, how perfectly you hit every spot inside her that had her toes curling and her fingers twitching uselessly against the seat.

She felt your hands tighten around her hips, grounding her, holding her exactly where you wanted her. And then—

"Good job, baby."

Tara's breath stuttered.

"You did so good."

And that—that was the last straw.

Her entire body tensed, pleasure hitting her so hard it nearly knocked the air from her lungs. And then she broke.

She came with a loud, uncontrollable moan, her back arching, her arms giving out beneath her. The orgasm ripped through her in wave after wave of unbearable pleasure, leaving her shaking, gasping, crying out as you kept going, dragging it out, making it last until she couldn't even fucking breathe.

The car was silent except for the sound of heavy breathing. Tara felt like she could still hear the blood rushing through her ears, her body tingling in the aftermath. She barely registered the feeling of you pulling out until the loss of contact made her whimper slightly, her legs trembling as she collapsed fully onto the seat beneath her.

Her arms felt weak. Her thighs burned. And her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. You weren't much better, panting as you sat back, but fuck—Tara was completely spent.

Still, she did what she always did. Without a word, she forced herself to sit up on shaking arms and began fixing her clothes, her fingers clumsily pulling her underwear back up, straightening her skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles in her shirt. She was still flushed, her skin still burning, and her hair was an absolute mess, but at least she didn't look completely wrecked.

You watched her, an amused glint in your eyes, and then, just as she was running her fingers through her tangled hair, you smirked.

"How's that toe you stubbed?"

Tara froze for a second, then let out a breathless laugh, rolling her eyes as she shoved you lightly. "Fuck you," she muttered, but there was no real heat behind it—just the kind of teasing exasperation that made you grin wider.

She reached down, grabbing her shoes from where they had ended up discarded on the floor. She slipped them on, lacing up her white Converse with slightly shaky fingers. When she was done, she glanced back at you, hesitating for just a second before pushing open the car door.

The cool night air hit her instantly, and she took a deep breath, stepping out onto the pavement. But before she shut the door, she turned back around, looking at you over her shoulder.

"Next Sunday?"

You smirked, leaning back against the seat as you met her gaze.

"Next Sunday."

And with that, she shut the door and walked away.

[pazzispizookies]

~~~~Dangerous question~~~~

Chapter 2

Hey guys!I was truly expecting no one to read chapter one lol, so. im so greatfull for all the people that did!! I really really appreciate reblogging and tagging!! Help me get some reach y’all im very new. :) again thank you all so very much and my inbox is wide open. If you’ve ever thought of a prompt you want to read send it and I’ll write it. Truly there’s nothing I’ll say no to. (Well expect yknow insane shit)

Pairing: Paige x Azzi, friends to lovers slow burn

September 13th, 2023.

Azzi POV:

The sun is attacking my eyesight as soon as I wake up, it’s quickly accompanied by a banging and throbbing force in my head.

Forcing myself out of bed, I glance at the clock

6:23

What the fuck am I doing awake so early.

I’m startled out of my thoughts as my door swings open.

“Good afternoon sunshine!!”

I love Caroline I really do, but at this moment I want her to shut her mouth and never open it again.

“Get outtt please i’m dead, can’t you have any sympathy for the dead caro?”

“Nope, your gonna be late, we’ve gotta get going Az, -were you taking a nap?” Caroline says standing a little too confindently where her hands crossed over her chest.

“What do you mean nap? I just woke up Car?”

“Azzi it’s 6! PM! We have team dinner at 7”

Shit.

I suddenly have a burst of energy at this statement realizing fuck, I’m gonna be late and look hungover in front of my teammates, and Paige.

Paige,

Paige who showered me last night, Paige who carried me to bed and helped me get changed, Paige who stayed up with me till I feel asleep, worrying I was gonna be sick again.

Paige who I think saw blushing while I was showering?

Why is my heart racing at this, why do I care what she sees me like?

“Azzi? Azzi Fudd?” Caroline claps.

“Okay, okay yeah, just please make me a cup of coffee I’ll get ready.”

Caroline mumbles as she walks out of my dorm towards the kitchen leaving me standing in the middle of my dorm.

6:25 Pm.

Okay yeah, I’ve gotten ready in less time. I just need to leave at 6:50 to get to the restaurant, which gives me… 25 mintues to shower, change, do my hair and makeup.

Ugh.

Normally I wouldn’t even bother with makeup or hair, but for some reason I feel a pull to get ready today, wanting to look good for some reason I can’t place my finger on.

I stumble to the bathroom and turn on the shower, finding my discarded clothes from last night. I toss them to the side and hop in the shower.

The sent of Vanilla and lavender quickly fills the room while I wash my hair, giving me a slight calming feeling.

Last night suddenly hits me.

I remember leaving the party with Paige’s stupid excuse, and then falling sick shorty after, but there’s something else I remember too.

Paige being not her normal cocky self, but shy?

I could’ve sworn I saw her blush last night while I was in the shower, but it must’ve been just the lighting.

Paige is my best friend and a pretty big celebrity. She came out to me a while ago, even though it was never really a secret.

And I’ve known that girls are attracted to her, and with her aura of confidence, I don’t doubt it.

Why does that thought make my heart skip a beat?

But anyways, i’m sure Paige has had her share of incounters with girls, but all the ones I’ve seen her flirt with, even though I try not to look when it happens, are all stunning. Truly all models.

They’re normally shorter then her, and have long flowing hair and know how to do there makeup without it coming out like a 5 year old do it.

So why would she be blushing at me?

Yeah i’m not ugly, but I definitely don’t look like those girls. I’m talking 5’11 to be exact and even though my hairs gotten a lot longer it’s still curly and normally thrown in 2 braids or a bun.

I do get attention from people, but I don’t know how to flirt really, so it goes no where.

my train of thought is interrupted by knocking at the door.

“Az cmon, you got like 20 more minutes” Caroline shouts muffled behind the door.

“Okay!! Coming!!”

I stumble out of the shower quickly without rising all of my hair product out so i can style it a little bit,

I make my way to my closet and glance at the clock again

6:32. Ugh.

Looking at my closet I realize im gonna need some help.

“caro! Can you come in here!”

Caroline comes walking in with a cup of coffee in hand, thank god.

“What’s up Az? You gonna wear a towel to dinner?” Caroline teases

“No, but I need some help” I mumble out, suddenly feeling a little insecure.

with a nod from a Caroline to continue my sentence I take deep breath and gesture towards my closet

“I need help with what to wear, I wanna look hot.”

Caroline’s eye widen for a second before she leans back and crosses her arms again.

“ohhhh, you trying to impress a certain someone, maybe a certain someone on the boys basketball team who’s been in your DMs since last week?” Caroline drags out.

I totally forgot all about AJ,a guy, pretty cute,on the baksetball team who’s texted me a few times.

I just assumed he was being friendly since were both freshman but with the way shes saying it, maybe I’m wrong..

But because I don’t really know why I want to look good tonight, I decide that’s a pretty good excuse.

“Yeah sure, whatever just make me hot please.” I say flopping down on my bed.

Caroline gets to work in my closet throwing things out.

After a minute or so she holds up a dress, a black one I completely forgot I even owned,

The dress isn’t anything too crazy but definitely not something i’d normally grab, but seeing as the restaurants a little nicer maybe it’s not the worst idea.

She quickly pulls out another outfit option.

A black fitted button up, with a black mini pencil skirt, and she’s holding along with it a push-up bra that has to be from 7th grade.

“I said make me hot, not make me a hooters worker.” I say glancing up at her smirk.

“trust me Az this is the prefect mix between, ‘yeah I’m smart and sweet’ and ‘yeah I’m hot as fuck’ cmon just try it!”

Reluctantly, I get up and grab the shirt, skirt, and stupid bra. I give her a death look before moving into the closet and shutting the door.

It takes me a quick second to put on the outfit, the shirt is a little tighter than the last time I tried it on, but still fits. Just slim now.

And the skirt is a little more filled out since the last time I wore it too.

I step out and Caroline’s eyes immediately widen. Along with an ever growing smirk on her lips

“Shut up caro, seriously does this make me look like a slut?” I ask moving towards my full body mirror on my wall,

“No it doesn’t,” Caroline says moving towards my front

she takes another step foward towards me and reaches for my shirt, without giving me time to process, she’s unbuttoned 2 of the buttons on my shirt making the shirt open a little farther down, showing some cleavage, a lot more then I’m used too.

“are you kidding! I should just wave a sign saying ‘look at my boobs! There hanging out for all to see!” I shout at her,

“Shut up Azzi, it’s not that bad it’s stilll enough to make people stare, but not too much to make people judge” Caroline says taking a step back to look at me fully.

I turn back around to the mirror, and maybe she’s right,

I look diffferent, the skirt hugs my hips and brings out my curves along with the very slim fitting shirt that shows my defined body.

Maybe she knows what she’s doing.

6:37 PM

“Okay, okay now my hair, please help” I say taking my eyes off my reflection turning to look at Caroline.

“Just sit down, I know what to do, do your makeup while I do this. And none of that ‘just mascara shit’ your pretty without any makeup of course, but were going for a new Azzi tonight.” Caroline says while pulling out the chair to my vanity.

I have a lot of makeup yes, but I rarely use it, I mean, I’m an athlete, I just simply don’t have the time for it, or need.

But tonight. As I sit down and look in my vanity mirror, I wanna do something different,

While i’m applying a layer of concealer under my eyes, Caroline starts on my hair.

abut 10 mintues later, were both done. My makeup surprisingly looks petty good, it’s not anything crazy but it’s more then usual,

I have some concealer on, highlighter and some nose contour plus bronzer. Along with some winged eyeliner and mascara over my long lashes. I top it off with a darker lipgloss, and look in the mirror.

Caroline has done my hair perfectly,

Pulling it up with a claw clip, and slicking it back with two birds in the front framing my face, It looks beautiful but also effortless.

My hair being pulled up means you can see more of my chest and neck, which still are nice and tanned from the summer.

I can’t even think anything else before Caroline chimes in.

“If i was gay, i’d low key eat you out right now.”

“Caroline!!! What the hell” I say taken back by her out of pocket comment.

“No like totally Azzi, you look stunning. Your so pretty, I think your out doing me, which I hate for me but love for you.” Caroline says while placing her hands on my shoulders.

I stand from my vanity glancing at the time again, even if I didn’t like my appearance i’d have no time to change it, it’s 6:50 and we have to go now.

Me and Car both grab our wallets and phones, and put on our shoes and head out to the car.

Shortly we arrive to the restaurant, it’s pretty packed but our team has a reservation,

Me and Caroline walk in together and are taken back by the restaurant. I’m thanking the gods for putting some time into my apprernce because its a lot nicer then I expected.

The employees are all in suits and the whole building is dimly lit, only by some candles spread out and chandeliers over the bigger tables.

Outside, the sun has already set making it a little darker,

“hey Azzi, Car! Over here!!!” KK shouts

Clearly being KK she’s not phased by the looks she gets from people trying to enjoy there dinner in a peaceful manner, but that doesn’t matter.

I look over at the table, the rest of my team is already sat,

Me and Caroline share a look before beginning to walk over.

The team all look up and greet me and Caroline as we sit down.

I take a seat near the end of the table with one more open seat next to me and Caroline sits to my right.

I glance around the table and notice there’s a person missing, a certain blonde is left out of this group.

Just as I notice this ice grabs my attention.

“Damnnnnnn Azzi, didn’t know you could clean up this well, you looking like a snack!”

This statement by ice causes most of the attention from the table to fall on me, which quickly overwhelms me

The girls all say different versions of compliments, or at least I think compliments, some might be harssasing me?

Just as the harassment and fawning is in its peak a voice cuts through,

“What are we gushing over guys?” Paige says while walking toward the table.

My stomach does an unwelcomed flip.

Paige has her hair slicked back into a bun, with black and grey Jordan’s on, a simple silver chair peaking out over a gucci all black polo.

“Oh hey P, we’re just talking about how delicious Azzi looks, don’t you agree?” Ice replies,

Paige takes a seat without noticing me, sitting right next to me while I talk to Caroline, noticing her sitting next to me ,I subconsciously turn towards her.

��Hey P” I say coming out a little softer then I expected,

Paige doesn’t even reply, she just simply looks at me, her sight falling up and down taking in my whole body.

her eyesight falling right on my cleavage for a second too long, a shade a red starts to creep onto her cheeks and her neck.

“uh hi,—sorry, hey A-Azzi” Paige says reverting her eyesight to the widow quickly.

I take a mental note of this, and turn back to ice seeing that ice and KK are already staring towards me and Paige.

“Paige Bueckers, are you blushing right now!” KK shouts while laughing and pointing towards Paige,

This statment makes ice catch on too.

“She totally is! She just checked Azzi out!! Can you believe it, the rizzler Paige buckets starts stuttering over Azzi fudd.” Ice says in an exaggerated tone.

“Yo, shut up I’m not, I just, had something stuck in my throat” Paige says to them still not making complete eye contact.

“Ha sure, okay” Ice says throwing her hands up in mock surrender.

With this the table continues to have have side conversations, and start to forget about Paiges … situation.

“So, you’re not dead?” Paige says to me

“No i’m not, thanks to you.”

“No problem, I’ll always help, yknow, you were scarring me last night, you looked genuinely like a dead body.”

“Shut up P. I did not, i’m sure I looked stunning, per usual”

“Yeah, you kinda still did.” Paige says mumbling

“Aw paigeyy, did you just say that I’m the prettiest person you’ve ever seen even when I’m drunk?” I say batting my eye lashes obnoxiously,

Of course I’m teasing Paige because in reality, I have no clue why Paige said that, and I have no clue why on earth Paige was blushing while looking at me ,all I know is that I don’t want it to stop.

“Oh shut up Az, that’s not what I said at all and you know it” Paige says regaining gin her normal confident tone and smirk,

Soon after she says this, a waiter appears at our table. Right behind me.

“Hi y’all, i’ll be your sever tonight, my name is Marcos, and-

I turn around and meet his eyes when he stops his sentence.

“uh-uh yeah like I was s-saying,, um are you guys ready to order drinks?”

I hear ice snort and KK elbows her while looking down biting back her own laugh.

clearly the table is waiting for someone to speak up as the “designated speaker for the night” and reluctantly I start speaking.

I lock my eyes onto his and notice, he’s kinda cute, he’s pretty tall from what I can gauge in my seat, and he has wavy dark hair loose, but cut nicely, he so looks pretty in shape and his button up fits pretty snuggly around his arms.

ignoring this I start talking,

“Hi Marcos nice to meet you, excuse my friends, they don’t know how to behave, but I think we’ll all just have waters, maybe with some lemon in them, please.”

“Y-yeah, i’ll go grab those” Marcos says still making direct eye contact with me,

He lingers for a beat too long before disappearing into the restaurant.

I hear laughter being let out as soon as he’s out of ear shot.

“PSHHH Azzi, keep it in your pants” KK says raising her eyebrows up.

“yeah Az, that guy was eye fucking you,” Ice says before bracing her hands on the table,

“All right y’all, I got 20 saying Marcos asks Azzi out before the end of the night, whos in�� Ice says to the table

“Ice!” I yell at her as a warning,

But I look around and see the majority of the table with the same expression all fumbling in their wallets and letting out quips about how he will or won’t.

I turn to complain to Caroline but am met by a horrid sight,

“Caro! Are you seriously betting on me right now.”

“Sorry Az, but it felt like I was interrupting something” She says shrugging.

My head falls into my hands but suddenly I feel tension to my left.

Paige is sitting there looking down at the table with an expression I’ve never seen on her face before.

“P, you good? You look like you wanna punch something.” I say putting my hand on her shoulder

“I’m good, Azzi.” Paige says coldly while pushing my hand off her,

A wave of hurt courses through me at this action, before I can say anything Marcos returns.

“Here you go,” He says while placing waters in front of each person, making his way down the table

“and here you go, gorgeous.” He says while putting the water directly infront of me before disappearing back into the restaurant.

Before I can react, Paige jolts up and starts walking fast towards where I can asssume the bathroom is.

“What’s her deal?” Ice says to Nika.

“I don’t know, but I have an idea.” Nika says while leaning back in her chair watching Paige go.

After a few mintues Paige returns and slips back into her seat.

“Hey”

“Hi.” Paige coldly returns

“You okay there?” I ask leaning into her space a little.

“Yeah Azzi, you don’t have to keep asking me.” Paige replies while reaches for her phone and looking down at it.

Feeling slightly rejected I turn to Caroline, tapping her on the shoulder.

I make a face at Caroline, gesturing towards Paige slyly.

Caroline answers by slugging her shoulders up, telling me she doesn’t know why she’s acting this way either.

I decide not to let it way on me too much, I know that something’s wrong with Paige, but I also know Paige won’t talk about it, especially in public.

Minutes pass that are filled with laughter and conversation as the group warms up more.

Another sever comes around to take or orders and Ice makes a quick comment asking where the “cute server” went.

The other waitress saying he went on break, but she’ll send him back if we want.

before anyone can say anything ice starts nodding her head and then places her order.

Conversation continues after our food order was placed, and it seems to be a good night, expect for Paige being uncharacteristically quiet, giving short answers or simply ignoring everyone whilst being on her phone tuned into a live NBA game.

After a while Marcos returns with the other waiter both holding food in their hands.

The waitress starts on the other end of the table while Marcos starts by putting food down to Caroline, skipping me and putting Paiges food down next, after this he returns back to me and sets my food down with a comment, “Best for last” he says with a wink.

I bush a little, caught off guard by the comment, so I send him a smile while turning around to my food.

“OOOOOhhhh” KK says while looking at me

“KK shut up” I say through my smile,

“Both of you shut up.” Paige cuts in

The table falls silent but it doesn’t seem to bother her, her eyes remaining on her NBA game,

The girls including me all look around at each other before quietly making conversation again,

Nika pulls out her phone and starts typing on it.

Shorty after I hear a notification chime on Paige’s phone which is met with her standing up, and Nika at the same time,both of them disappearing back towards the bathroom.

Once they are far enough I turn to KK,

“What is happening, it’s like Paige got a stick shoved up her ass.”

“I don’t know, ask Nika later, she seems to know more than us.” KK replies with picking up her food and taking a big bite.

Marcos come back, check in hand.

“Hey guys sorry to interrupt, but here’s the check for whenever you need,”

He places the check down in the middle of the table and ice nods at him, signaling she heard him,

With that I see him turn towards me.

I suddenly get a sinking feeling in my chest,

“Um, this is strange but you’re stunning, and I was wondering if I could get your number?”

My breath gets caught, I was not expecting that.

“Umm yea, Yeah sure.” I say fumbling for my phone.

I don’t know why i’m saying yes, but it’s like my brains on autopilot.

Give him my phone, open on contacts and look over at ice whos collecting 20 dollar bills.

I can’t do anything but roll my eyes before Macos gives me my phone back.

“Thank you, hope to see you soon, “ He say with a wink, while walking backwards and turning towards the back of the restaurant.

“I TOLD YALLL!” Ice shouts while waving her new 20 dollars bills at her self.

“Shush ice just eat your food.” I say rolling my eyes.

Caroline nudges me and nods her head up, making me tun around,

Paige and Nika are walking back towards the table.

Paige is walking, lacking her normal confidence, her mind seems somehwere else, and Nika looks, well, pissed to say the least.

They both sit down without saying anything and the table shares looks between each other.

With this new enegery the team eats quietly,

Before anyone can do anything. Paige throws 4- hundred dollar bills down on the table and gets up. Walking towards the door.

Nika huffs and gets up, following Paige.

The team watches them leave and get into their car, Nika starts driving off almost immediately.

Ice turns back from the window and claps her hands with an exhale.

“Well y’all, I guess dinners paid for, and I guess we’re done!” She says while nudging KK

No ones really wanting to stay after the disaster of a dinner we had, everyone starts making there way towards to exit while speaking low, presumably about Paiges dramatic exit.

It’s just me and Caroline remaining, and we start heading towards our car.

In the middle of our quiet drive back I get a text,

Marcos(server): Hey, would you be interested in dinner next weekend? :)

[tia1a]

Everything inside me is stone.

Levi Ackerman x reader

I’ve wanted to write for him for so long this man is so fine💆🏾‍♀️ also this is based on the earlier seasons of aot

Age gap!!! Slightly toxic.. Angst, Forbidden Love (sorta) lots of sexual tension, always use of y/n, Levi being stubborn and you being stubborn back. 💋

~

Right now you weren’t in a.. strange predicament. Were you on top of Eren on the training grounds? Yes, but not in the way you might think. Why? Because you paired up for sparring, and you were very annoyed before this session started.

Let’s take it back to the reason why. The last conversation you had before everyone met for training. Maybe the word argument would be more fitted.

“Why do you keep on pushing me away?” You asked, getting frustrated at the sight of Levi getting out of the bed, cleaning the room you two had left a mess and finding clothes to get dressed. But you were having none of it.

“I’m not pushing you away, I’m protecting you.” Levi said, his back turned to you.

“Yes you are!? You know I can protect myself? You don’t need to isolate yourself from me.” Your voice began raising.

“I’m not the right person for you y/n. Since you’re so smart you should understand the risks of us! Whatever this is.” He turned around, pointing his finger between the both of you. He was self sabotaging because he felt you could do better than an older emotionally scarred man who just so happens to be the leader of your squad.

You felt the anger rise inside, and sure you could’ve screamed and yelled in his dumb face for saying what he said. Instead you were so angry tears pooled in your eyes, and you tried to hide it. Messily putting on your clothes you mumbled enough for him, to aggravated to speak normally.

“Fine.” You pulled on your white jeans.

“Whatever.” You began buttoning up your shirt.

“Just fuck off.” You hissed as his hands reached to help you button up since you being frantic.

You put on your socks and boots, the rest of your uniform in your room. “Leave me alone.”

He knew he’d fucked up. But seeing tears in your eyes, and your bottom lip quivering, he realised that was something he never wanted to see.

But why? It was so wrong. But when it was just the two of you it was so right.

It all started one drunken night three months ago began a kind of relationship you would’ve never ever expected to happen with Levi. Ackerman. Your. Captain.

I mean sure you always found him attractive, and he seemed to tolerate you more than anyone else in your scout group. He definitely did call you a Brat pretty much every day, but he didn’t ever insult you. Everyone else figured it was just favouritism when he’d tell everyone to fuck off and figure out their own shit except when it came to you he spoke in a normal tone. Needed help with the gear? He’d be behind you, guiding your arms and showing you what to do. Wanted to spar with him? He’d teach you new moves and would be very physical but not enough to hurt you, just for the sake of touch. You were thirsty? He’d make tea for the both of you. And so on.

You pretended to be oblivious to all of this, but in your mind you couldn’t help but daydream and zone out imagining what it’d be like with him.

“Thinking about the captain” Sasha nudged your arm as your hand rested on your face. She giggled as she sipped her alcoholic beverage. Yes, would absolutely were.

“No!!!! Shut up.” You slightly chuckled and rolled your eyes, as you began drinking a little more.

“Y’know y/n, if you change your mind and want someone your own age im your perfect match.” Jean winked at you, slurring his words and wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“You need to sit down.” You grinned at the sight, standing up and sitting him down where you were sat.

You walked out of the tavern and sat outside in the dark, kissed by the moonlight and wrapped around the late night breeze of the summer. Everyone was here celebrating the recent mission, less people killed by titans and an increase in the titans being killed. That’s what it’s all about right? Until the next mission there’d most likely be some intense training so the plan was to try and have some fun while you still could.

“I’m surprised you’re with that lanky piece of shit. Out of everyone.” You heard from behind, not needing to look behind since you recognised the voice right away. He sat beside you, and you hummed questioningly.

“Tch don’t play dumb brat. Jean. The lanky horse-” you laughed and cut him off.

“I’m not with Jean. And it seems, someone was stalking me.” You smirk, speaking with the liquid confidence.

“I’m taking you back to headquarters. You’ve had too much to drink.” He rolled his eyes at you.

When you got back, one thing led to another and the next morning you were tangled in his sheets naked. Before you woke he left to make tea, except you woke while he was gone and assumed he’d just left. So you did too. And when he saw you were gone from his room he realised you might’ve thought it was a mistake. But he couldn’t blame you if you did.. he was older, there was a pretty big power dynamic and he came to the conclusion that is was for the good that he was alone. If he formed an emotional attachment there was always the chance he could lose you.

But you ignoring him? He didn’t like that. He tolerated 1 day of being ignored by you before he hollered you into his office and well.. let’s just say this time you were both sober when you did it.

After that you both said that it wouldn’t continue.. but it did. More often than not. You had fucked in his office, his room, your room, the stables, in the shower, in the forest and empty rooms. But as much as there was lust, there was sweet moments that were dates in disguise. Long talks, walks, rides, play fights, sparring in feilds and then having a picnic, slow dances and admiration. But hey what was more romantic than slaying titans together.

Back in the present.

“Cmon y/n, are you even trying?” Eren mocked as the two of you sparred, except you were thinking about the argument you’d had with him this morning.

So after a swift kick to the legs - which Levi taught you how to do - dropping him to the floor within seconds. And in that amount of time you’d began throwing punch after punch after punch. Poor eren. Too bad he underestimated you at a time like this.

“OKAY MISSY!!” Hange shouted in a high pitched voice as she grabbed the back of your arms and pulled you off of him. “You doin’ okay up there sweets?” She raised a brow moving closer to your face and tapping your head. You nodded and she rubbed your arm before you walked away.

Levi watched you the whole entire time.

Hange walked back over to where they sat. “You outta go get your girl short stack.” She smirked.

He went silent for a second, unsure of how to respond “what’re you talking about four eyes.”

“Oh don’t play dumb. I see that look in your eyes, I know you put up this cold front but seems as though she’s melting it down.” She readjusted her glasses “a little young but hmph! I get it. Better go get her before someone else does.”

“Tch. Shut up.” he abruptly stood up and followed in your footsteps.

Eventually catching up as he found you walking in the hq. “I told you to leave me alone” you frowned.

“I’m the one who gives orders around here brat.”

“Go boss around someone else then” you went to walk away and he grabbed your hand.

“No. You’re gonna stay and listen to me.” He began to get annoyed now. “And drop the attitude brat. You know i care, probably too much so quit acting like I don’t. I shouldn’t have pushed you away but I was trying to do what’s best for you. If I keep you to myself you don’t get a chance with any other guy your age.”

“But that’s my decision Levi, and I don’t want any other guy. I want you.” You interrupted, looking into his eyes. He now grabbed your face, and leaned closer “I didn’t say you could talk.” He then glided his thumb over your lower lip.

“It’s dangerous to live in a world like this.” Her brows lifted then caressed your jaw.

“I don’t care about that.” You batted your eyelashes up at him and he kissed you.

~

[alexiswritergirl]

What he finds most attractive about you

Prompt: Headcanons on what the bllk boys find most attractive about you.

A/N: Some of these characters could be OOC, so keep that in mind.

Featuring: Rin, Sae, Isagi, Bachira, Reo, and Niko

Rin

What does he find most attractive about you? Your voice.

It took a bit for Rin to warm up to you fully, but when he did, he started to notice how calming your voice is to him. For him, it’s like an angel singing him a lullaby, his favorite music to listen to. If you are insecure about how you sound, don’t be because he genuinely finds comfort in the sound of your voice. It’s the fact that hearing you lets him know that you’re there with *him*. He listens intently to you every time you talk, paying close attention to the pitch of your voice and letting it calm down all of his nerves. When you talk about something that excites you, he will slightly smile and wonder how high your voice would go. If you were to have a bad day, he would know right away just by the tone of your voice no matter how hard you try to hide it. When he’s the one having a bad day, he always finds himself looking for you for comfort and letting you comb your fingers through his hair, while consoling him. He feels as if you are the only person in the whole world who understands him and won’t judge him (and leave to Spain 🙄). If you can sing, that is a HUUUGE bonus for him. He would be pretty down bad for you and will shyly ask you to sing to him. He knows he can be a lot to handle, so he’s appreciative of you for being there. Even though Rin doesn’t always outwardly express how much he appreciates you, he definitely shows it through his actions. 

“Being around you is different…God, I don’t know how to put this into words, but all I know is that I want to be close to you forever.”

Sae

What does he find most attractive about you? Your sense of humor.

He freaking adores your sense of humor. This guy has the personality of a broccoli, so you being the funny person you are really switches up his usual routine. He always makes sure you’re around to make everything feel so lively; he feels like a “normal person” with you, it’s as if he forgets he’s a celebrity. When he’s abroad for a game, he misses you a lot and wonders what shenanigans you’re up to. He especially thinks about you A LOT during boring interviews, wondering what bizarre thing you would say to turn it into something fun. He makes it a top priority to call you when he has free time—this is like a way for him to unwind and just giggle the night away after a game or other important matters. He will sometimes purposely be mean to you in a playful manner just to get a reaction from you. He often chuckles to himself reminiscing the times when you said something stupid that randomly popped into his head. Some of his teammates wonder if they’re in some sort of alternate universe. Like…Sae Itoshi is laughing? No must be hearing things. Except Shidou though, he will tease Sae to no end.

“Life never gets boring when I’m with you. Feels like I’ve known you for years, lifetimes even. You better stay close to me because I’m not letting you go, got that?”

Isagi

What does he find most attractive about you? Your smile and laughter.

He finds it very attractive every time you laugh and flash that bright smile. It makes him feel very special and reassured knowing how happy you are around him. If you’re insecure to laugh or smile, he will look at you as if you are crazy and shower you with compliments until the end of time. He doesn’t fully understand why you would be insecure because for him he gets all fuzzy and warm inside when he sees you cheerful. Even though he tells an unfunny joke, he can always count on you to fill in the awkward silence. Your laughter is like a soft melody to his ears that will never bore him, and that smile just makes all the negativity leave his entire body—it’s like a reminder of how much he is cared for. AND OH MY GOSH if you have dimples, he will be so down bad for you. He will do everything in his power to just make you smile. If you’re insecure about your dimples, he would be so confused as to why. He will kiss them very often just so you can feel good about them, along with his sweet compliments of how cute they look.

“You must be some sort of magician because every time I see you, everything else just disappears. Hey! I’m trying to flirt with you, don’t laugh! Or do… Damn, you're too cute…”

Bachira

What does he find most attractive about you? You dancing carefree.

Bachira gets all excited and energetic every time you dance. It’s the way you freely move like there’s no one else around and how you dance so effortlessly as you sway your hips and wave your arms everywhere. And your face is so relaxed while doing so. Bachira could watch you all day and be absolutely mesmerized by you as if you hypnotized him, even though he much prefers to be dancing with you. He has Just Dance downloaded and will have you play it with him to see who’s a better dancer. He also has an entire playlist of songs he remembers that you love so he can see you get all giddy. I can see Bachira practicing kpop dances to impress you if you’re a fan of kpop. He likes to call himself your “personal idol”. His favorite thing is to have you close to him so that he can hold you and gaze into your eyes while he sweet talks to you. 

“Y/N! Just learned a new dance move! Impressed right? As your personal idol, I have to have these kinds of moves down, I gotta keep up with you, yknow? How else will I dance with my Galway Girl?” 

(Yes it is an ed sheeren reference)

Reo

What does he find most attractive about you? Your nose.

Reo is the very observant type, so it didn’t take long for him to notice the way your nose would perk up every time you smile or scrunch up when you get excited or disgusted by something. He thinks it's a very cute charm you have and reminds you every time by giving you a little peck on the nose. Not only that but he will also “boop” your nose or rub his on yours occasionally. He feels incredibly special since he is hopefully one of the few to notice this. Will definitely gatekeep this in case others also want to boop your nose because those boops are only reserved for him! He will talk about it all to Nagi though.

“Y/N! Come here! Closerrrrr. Scooch on closer! Boop! There she is. You’re like a sweet little bunny, my bunny.”

Niko

What does he find most attractive about you? Your eyes.

At first, he did not think much about you or your eyes until you both became friends and later on realized how pretty your eyes are. Canonically, he believes you can read someone’s personality if you look into their eyes. And what he reads in your eyes is how caring and genuine you are. You sometimes catch his gaze linger a little bit longer than usual, so you tend to snap him out of his thoughts. Most of the time he does it without even realizing it, which results in him feeling embarrassed afterwards. When you’re at his place, he’ll turn on the TV to watch an anime in hopes of just focusing on the show and not creep you out with his constant staring. That is until his eyes wander onto yours once again. Sometimes if he’s feeling good, he’ll secretly push his bangs up a bit so he can get a clearer look at you. If you both have been together for a while though, he won’t cover his eyes around you and will only be reserved for you. On dates, there will be times when you both just hold onto each other's hands and stare into one another’s eyes. When you’re both going to bed, he’ll lightly kiss your eyelids shut before you both sleep. He believes it’ll help you have good dreams at night.

“Maybe it’s the way your eyes hold so many mysteries that makes me feel this way. Or perhaps it is curiosity? I don’t know…It’s like trying to study the universe, so many things to discover.”

[self-loving-vampire]

I get that the standard answer to "why do people find smoking sexy even now?" is "because of a mass marketing campaign from over a century ago" but that answer doesn't fully satisfy my curiosity, specifically about the mechanisms of how something like that works.

I suspect part of what gets left out of conversations about that it is that a lot of people are terminally celebrity-brained and readily adopt whatever image famous Hollywood actors (pre-internet influencers) popularize.

But when you sincerely don't care about that the perception of smoking seems very different.

In my own case I am also pretty much a dog in human form and can't stand the smell, which persists even when someone isn't currently smoking. It sticks to clothes and hair and even their furniture.

And the whole "smoking is edgy and rebellious" thing falls apart when you know how manufactured and arbitrary it is.

That part, by itself, is not automatically a dealbreaker. For example, I think chest sarashi looks really cool even though it's literally just a piece of cloth with no inherent "cool" qualities but a few cultural associations that tie it to some of my kinks.

But smoking has very different associations for me than I imagine it does for the type of person who finds it attractive.

It is also such a mainstream and popular symbol for "tough and rebellious" characters that it kind of ceases to be edgy to me. I don't assume smokers are cool rebels. I assume they are people who were influenced by celebrities, Hollywood, or peers to see smoking as cool and rebellious even at the cost of their health. A complete 180 into extreme conformism and submission to normative influence.

Smoking is "cool" because tobacco companies sank a ton of money into mainstreaming and popularizing it through conventionally-attractive celebrities and the like, so buying into their framing completely is not edgy. The image of smoking is too deliberate, too artificial, and too big.

A more sincerely rebellious person, in my view, would instead adopt aesthetics that they personally find cool but that normal society may instead see as cringe or ridiculous.

In other words, those fat, katana-wielding men wearing fedoras and criticizing religion that people used to make fun of have a more rebellious and independent spirit than a smoker does, to me.

[princeoftheeternalbog]

thinking about izou guys...lets go

I think there's a little bit of insecurity coming off here so i think maybe this could be considered comfort because he's going to worship you🫡 this just kept going and going btw guys sorry

let me know if the dialogue is confusing and I'll colour code it🤞

I also invented u a bestie idk

ALSO that part where he's thinking about fighting is making me think about sparring headcannons...

- ✧ -

You feel like someone's staring at you.

You've been feeling like that a lot lately actually.

It's not unpleasant, more a hyperaware tingle on the back of your neck as you organise parts of the new supplies.

It's odd, you think, you're not sure why someone would be staring at you of all people.

You look up, trying to get a glimpse of whoevers causing the feeling, but your eyes can't help but drift back to the man in front of you. His head was turned and he was talking to one of the other crew members, someone in his division you think, you weren't exactly looking. No, your focus was on the elegance of his profile, the way his hair looked like liquid silk and framed the muscles of his broad shoulders like water against rock.

At least he wouldn't catch you looking at him since he never seemed to look your way.

You hadn't been on the ship long, 6 months max maybe. You settled quickly into your division, finding companionship easily within the familial feeling of the crew. And while you were more than strong enough to be recruited by the Whitebeard pirates, there's still not really a reason for anyone to stare, especially not Izou. Your strength is the hidden kind, something you only ever use in a fight, and other than that there's nothing really interesting about you.

At least that's what you think.

- ✧ -

Izou strongly disagrees.

He fears he might've gone insane, the level of space you occupy within his mind can't be normal, especially when you'd barely spoken 3 sentences to him(one time you said his lips looked beautiful and he honestly thought he would've proposed if you hadnt walked away).

He just can't help it, he'd first seen you before the crew had attempted to recruit you (on his recommendation of course) and the way you fought was breathtaking. He kind of wanted you to beat him up like that, but that might mess up his hair and he was sure he'd wouldn't be into that nearly as much.

As soon as that fight was over though, he'd seen that transformation into your normal personality and he was hooked from the beginning. The way you went from such a serious, scary, powerhouse to just so-

You.

He couldn't even put it into words.

He can't help but linger around you, sitting near you during celebrations and dinner, swapping chores to put you a bit closer. Not that he talks to you, no no, he's quite nervous if you must know.

You make him feel so many emotions he's never felt before, he's never been nervous around someone he fancys and it makes him feel sick- in a good way, but still sick.

To be honest though, he's more worried about making you uncomfortable, technically you'd be a subordinate to him, he doesn't want to pressure you so he'd much rather keep his attraction to himself.

No matter how much his brothers pushed him to be more open with his feelings.

- ✧ -

It can't be that hard to figure out who it is. Surely someone has a reason to be looking at you, and you'd already asked all of your cabin mates if you had any wardrobe malfunctions or food on your face and there was a unanimous no. Though they were snickering amongst themselves for some reason...

You brushed things like that off though, it didn't seem to be malicious and you and your cabin mates had developed quite a strong bond even in just a few months so you didn't think they would be making fun of you. But regardless they're weren't very helpful, so you decide to ask around.

You had a check up scheduled today so that could be a good place to start, and you had a pretty good relationship with your usual nurse Maren so you're sure she'd tell you if she knew anything.

- ✧ -

Tate was amused. And that's putting it lightly.

She'd noticed the special attention you seemed to be attracting as of late, well most everyone had. Apart from you.

You were so so oblivious. Even when it was staring you right in the face, which is precisely what Izou had been doing to you earlier. Not that you noticed the comical way he whipped his head to the side whenever you looked up. And you didn't even see the flush on his face that was clearly visible to everyone even through the makeup that he tended to favour.

She couldn't help the way her lips twitched upwards when Maren made eye contact with her over your shoulder, as you asked whether they'd noticed anything.

"That's probably Izou"

Your head turns so fast that Maren's hands fly up in a panic, making sure you didnt pull anything.

"What do you mean"

Your voice sounds a bit jittery and you fidget and Tate really grins then,

"What I just said"

"But why would he- like why would he look at me"

She shrugs

"He's attracted to you"

You gape at her, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"But- what?"

Your voice is rising now, in befuddlement and embarassment and it doesn't help that Tate and Maren look like they're laughing at you.

"Oh hun most people have noticed apart from you...Izou seems to have a little crush on you"

Maren giggles as she finishes her sentence, rubbing your shoulder as she nonchalantly drops this massive revelation.

"I- what."

You sound so flabbergasted that Maren feels a twinge of concern for your self esteem so she barrels on,

"Well you're cute, you're funny, you're crazy strong which is always a bonus, there was that time you complimented his lipstick, oh you should've seen his face as you walked away I thought he was gonna have a stroke-"

"He's constantly near you, even in fights when he should be paying more attention to whats going on in front of him than wherever you are"

Theres a hint of annoyance in Tate's tone but you can recognise it's probably directed towards Izou. Probably. You can never tell with Tate.

"But we've never even really spoke-"

"Well I can assure you he wants to change that"

You'd never really thought about it, I mean obviously you were attracted to him and felt a lot of respect and frankly you would date him if given the opportunity. But you didn't ever think he'd be interested in you, no that would be silly, he's so strong, so composed. You couldn't for the life of you imagine him with a crush and yet here you were being told the crush is on you.

"What...do i do"

"It depends obviously"

She's confusing you now.

"On what?"

Tate rolls her eyes, "On if you reciprocate"

"What does that mean"

Maren butts in again, "On if you want to try dating him silly"

You feel yourself curl in from embarrassment as you say it but you can't stop your mouth,

"Who wouldn't?"

- ✧ -

This was so bizarre.

You're not quite sure you believed the nurses at the start but now that you were looking you could see it. He was so often in the same place that you were, so often making sure you were safe, so often looking at you with a dreamy expression.

And it was kinda...really cute.

Well what can you say, he's quite a serious man, flashy and fashionable but serious nonetheless. Seeing his composure falter was sweet- and hot, really hot.

You'd tried winking at him earlier to see what would happen and he'd choked on his drink in his fluster, while cute, not something you would like to recreate considering how quickly he left after that. You imagine he'd felt embarrassed but you simply felt entertained and very flattered.

You wondered what you were going to do about it. You weren't exactly that experienced and youd certainly never asked the other person out first.

Though....you had some ideas in mind...

The next island you were docking at was famed for it's markets, big bustling things that took up several streets at any given time.

So it was settled.

You were going to woo a commander.

- ✧ -

You didn't think it was going to be this difficult.

You knew what Izou liked, how he wore his clothes, how he did his hair and his makeup.

But nothing was speaking to you, no matter how beautiful or precious it was. It was driving you mad. It didn't help that the people you'd enlisted for help were infact not being very helpful at all.

Maren was simply pointing out things either she wanted or she thought would look good on you, which....could actually be useful later for the aforementioned wooing so you did actually listen to her sometimes.

And then there was Ace, you'd thought he'd be very beneficial in this outing considering he was practically the second division commander already and thus was friends with the majority of the commanders. Well... he was just flirting with every shopkeeper.

You sighed as someone shouldered into you.

Gods this street was so busy it was an absolute nightmare to be in. You'd all taken to tying each others belts together, lest you get lost or worse in a fight. It prevented Ace from wandering off too, scatterbrained that he is.

Maren's sudden gasp had you turning in alarm before she started tapping your arm in excitement.

"Look! Look! Look!"

"What am I looking at" You're squinting but there's too many people to see where she's even pointing.

She sighs, exasperated, before grabbing your head with both her hands and moving it to in front of her own. You stumble as she practically manhandles your body in front of her so your eyes can follow the exact line of site she was looking at.

"....oh"

"YEAH OH!"

You turn to face her,

"Maren I think you're a genius"

"Hey what about me-"

"Shut up Ace" The way you speak simultaneously makes you both giggle.

He doesn't stop pouting as he's dragged over to a frankly shady, tented market stall.

He's not sure why he's here anymore, he feels more like a mascot. Though he doesn't want to go back to the ship just yet, the way Izou had looked when you'd grabbed Ace's hand to drag him off the ship made him shiver.

He hopes you find a good present before Izou finds him.

- ✧ -

He's picking at his nail polish again.

He can't help it- he's so anxious, anxious that you'd been out all day on the island, anxious that you'd went with Ace of all people, anxious that you'd held his hand.

He knew Ace was attractive, many of the younger crew members were quite sweet on him afterall. But you'd never seemed to show any interest and he didn't think you'd go for someone younger than you...unless maybe you would.

He's scowling so much his forehead hurts.

He just doesn't understand.

Why would you want to go and hang out with Ace when you could hang out with him-

Ugh he felt disgusted, being jealous always made him feel dirty, such an ugly, improper emotion to have and yet here he was seething away.

Maybe he should've made a move.

Maybe he can still make one-

No that wouldn't be fair, not if you were going out with Ace.

It must be some divine punishment that he'd be forced to see it though.

- ✧ -

You laughed brightly as you and Ace raced back to the ship, shopping bouncing lightly against your side. Maren had gotten there first, setting off the whole race when you two were distracted the little cheat. She was giggling herself at the top of the gangplank as you and Ace shouldered each other trying to get up it first.

"THERE'S NO WAY I'LL LET YOU WIN"

"MAREN ALREADY WON THIS IS FOR SECOND PLACE IDIOT"

"WELL I'M NOT BEING IT"

"THATS WHAT YOU THINK" You're blowing a raspberry at him as you reach the top when he accidentally knocks your leg and you feel your centre of gravity shift.

You briefly feel panic claw up your throat, even though you'd land in the water, it was still a massive drop, one that you weren't prepared for and one that would potentially ruin the utmost perfect present.

It doesn't last long though, something snatches the side of your holster belt, holding you up like a dog in air prison.

Once you get your eyes to open back up, you see black leather before anything else and then the soft whites and pinks of his kimono print.

"Izou-"

You don't mean to say his name so excitedly but as you look up and he smirks and that little dimple on his left cheek appears, you can't really feel any regret for it.

"Darling you need to be more careful, I might not be there to catch you next time"

"Ah right- sorry" You turn your head in embarrassment, feeling hot. Your gaze meets Maren's and she winks before dragging an apologising Ace back onto the deck.

"Alright let's get you up lovely"

You expect him to reach with his other arm and haul you up back onto the gangplank.

You do not expect him to toss you in the air.

You think your shriek of fear may have disrupted the local ecosystem.

"WHAT THE HELL IZOU?"

The man has the audacity to laugh as he catches you in his arms.

"THAT WAS SO UNNECESSARY-"

"I apologise dear- I just wanted to see your face-"

Your eye twitches

"AND TO THINK I WAS GONNA ASK YOU OUT ON A DATE WELL YOU-"

You smack a hand over your own mouth, hoping it will somehow erase those words from out the air.

You can hear Maren and Ace crying on each other in the background about how 'all of their hard work has been wasted'.

Of course you were going to do it eventually but you'd wanted more time to prepare.

"Is that so?" His voice is lilted, teasing almost.

"Uh well- you know-

...yes"

The end of your sentence is barely audible as you wince. Even though logically you know he'll likely say yes, the embarrassment makes you wish you had fell off the gangplank. And maybe drowned while we're at it.

"Ask me then" When you look at him, he's smirking but you can see the blush steadily rising on his face.

"Uh what"

"Ask me darling, I do have places to be you know"

"Right, right, uh can you maybe like put me down first"

He raises one of those perfectly styled eyebrows before setting you on your feet.

"Okay now turn around"

He looks amused but he turns and you start rooting through your bag until you find the exact item you want.

It had taken a while to find, routing through that little jewellers stall, but it was absolutely perfect. You weren't exactly sure he'd wear something like it but it just felt like it almost embodied his energy.

It was a strange little thing, the stall owner had told you that the carved opal, inlaid into the wood, was found on the shore. He'd crafted the wooden part himself to curve perfectly around the delicate shapes of the crane, creating a moon shaped pendant that took your breathe away almost as much as Izou did. You worried the wood might seem plain to him but to you it felt like it was grounding, tying a feeling of the earth back to a gemstone which felt like glittering starlight.

You cleared your throat gently, holding it out in one palm of your hand.

He turns back towards you but he doesn't look down yet, his eyes are fixed on your face and you feel a bit like you're made of jelly.

"Izou... I've always held a...strong...admiration for you-"

You can see Maren wincing sympathetically behind him and you feel like throwing the pendant at her head.

He's smiling though, so you keeo going on.

"I wanted to ask you if you uh...

ifyoudliketogoonadatewithme"

Your eyes clench shut as you internally cringe and you think that came out as gibberish.

"How sweet"

You risk peeking at him with one eye and he doesn't seem to be making fun of you so you relax a little bit.

"And I...bought this for you...you don't have to keep it. It just reminded me of you"

He finally looks down at the small pendant in your hand and it's like he forgets how to breathe.

"Where did you-"

"You don't have to keep it."

His eyes shoot up to meet yours and then before you even process that he's moving, he's kissing you.

His lips are soft, just like they looked, and you're sure he's transferring his lipstick but you don't really care as you hook an arm around his neck. He's pulled you in by the waist, trapping the arm with the pendant against his body.

He kisses with such a purpose like he's trying to devour you, like he's trying to memorise every part of your mouth.

And he's really good at it.

You feel lightheaded, possibly from lack of air, but more likely because of the devotion you can feel through this kiss. You really hope there's nobody nearby because you kind of want to crawl into his lap and never leave.

He keeps trying to pull you closer, practically pulling you onto your tiptoes as he leans over you, almost like a dip in a dance.

He pulls back slightly for air but each breath is punctuated with a kiss and he's mumbling compliments all the while.

"Sweet, pretty thing"

Kiss

"So clever"

Kiss

"So lovely"

Kiss

You think you might pass out if he keeps focusing this much of his attention on you but you don't exactly want him to stop either.

"OH COME ON GET A ROOM"

Ace being useful for once is surprising enough to be effective at pulling you two apart.

You're gasping as you lean your forehead against his own and he starts talking before you even remember where you were.

"How did you find something like that? How did you know to get it?"

"What do you mean?" Your voice sounds soft and gooey even in your own ears but you can't feel embarrassed when he sounds so grateful.

"It's from home, my home. That opal-"

He's kissing you again as he whispers little thank yous against your mouth.

No wonder it reminded you so much of him.

"WHAT DID I JUST SAY"

Izou finally pulls back as a potato flies past his head. You can't see the look on his face but Ace immediately goes white so you imagine it must be quite impressive. He turns back to you and the adoration that shines on his face makes you feel all flustered.

"Darling I fear I could never give you a gift so precious"

"You...would be enough"

"Ah but then I get you as well, and I believe that means I owe you double, I better get started on that"

He's hoisting you back into his arms before you can reply and then he's whisking you away towards his cabin.

Maren is cheering way too loudly.

[graphedpaper]

Renter Problems

yandere!celebrity x gn!reader

Synopsis: You're trying to find a place near your university to stay, and you've managed to find a mansion owned by a celebrity to live in. His name is Jacob, and you've known him since middle school, living in the same city as him. He's blown up as the new, hot celebrity thanks to the movie he's starred in, though, while you're just struggling to pass by. But he's been acting strange, and you're determined to .move out Details: Physical and verbal abuse, drugging, manipulation, gender neutral reader

Living with this man was hard. His constant need for your attention and approval, his strange comments, his overall eccentric way of living. At first, living in a celebrity mansion for a cheap price had seemed like a dream, but instead, it'd turned into a burden.

You sit up on the bed, leaning your back on the headboard and look out the floor to ceiling length window to see the sun slowly setting. You want to find a stable, normal place to stay in soon as possible.

You had posted an ad online so renters could contact you if their spot became available. You felt more secure with that back up in mind. You suppose thinking so much about Jacob attracted him because you suddenly hear a knock at your door.

"You there?" He asks, opening the door without waiting for a response.

"What's the point of knocking if you can't wait for a response?" You ask.

"It's my house, that's my door." He responds with a straight face.

"Sure..." You respond, not having the energy to argue.

"Anyways!" He claps his hand and points and you. "Want to watch my new movie with me? Pretty good if I say so myself."

You shift uncomfortably, bringing your knees to your chest. He's a bit closer to you now.

"Um, sorry Jacob but I feel a bit tired."

Jacob's smile drops. "What, you don't want to spend any time with me?"

"Huh?" You almost laugh out loud. "Do roommates have to spend time with each other? I'm paying my share of the rent, right? Do I have to be friends with you?"

Yikes. Was that a little mean of you?

Jacob would say yes, that was really, really mean of you. He was just trying to be nice.

Jacob sits at the end of your bed and you look at him confused.

"Y/n... ...Tell me the truth. Do you-" He stares at his lap. "Do you still hate me for what I've done to you when we were younger? Could you ever forgive me?"

You're stunned that he's asking for your forgiveness, but another part of you is hesitant to accept his apology, as you go through the multiple events where he'd picked on you at school. Small things, like name calling and throwing paper balls at your back.

"Oh! Um- well..." Your words falter. You have a grudge against him, but nothing so big that you would bring it up to discuss.

Jacob forces tears to form in his eyes and looks up at you. His glossy, brown eyes, all sad and red. It's fake, but you don't know that.

"Y/n the truth is I've always loved you. I admired you so much but I was too embarrassed to say my true feelings to you. Because I was scared of being rejected." Your stomach turns and you feel bad.

"I- aw.." You try to say something to comfort him but you can't form words.

You crawl to the end of the bed and you hug him. His big arms wrap around you as well and it feels more like he's cradling you rather than you embracing him. Your small form is engulfed in his arms and you start to feel calm. Jacob feels pretty good right now too.

"Jacob, don't cry, I'm sorry." You whisper to him. Sorry for what, you didn't fucking know.

"You hate me, right?"

"No! I don't!" You assure.

He gazes into your eyes. "Do you like me?" He softly asks you, not breaking eye contact.

You're speechless right now.

You part your lips and you're about to toss out some words about you and him having potential to be friends, but you're interrupted.

By Jacob pressing his own lips on your slightly open mouth. He moves his right hand to the back of your head supporting you and kisses you harder, pulling you in.

You gasp and push him off, jumping up on your feet.

"Shit! What was that!?" You exclaim. You stare at him, shocked by what just happened. You feel hot and dizzy.

Jacob looks at you. "Sorry." He mutters and leaves, locking your door on his way out.

You're left to be on your own, stewing in confusion.

It's not a matter of want now, but a need to move out immediately. Like the universe is helping you, you get a notification on your laptop about an available renter who's willing to rent out a cheap basement near your university.

You're leaving, tomorrow.

-----

You've woken up this morning feeling determined and energized. You've contacted the renter and you were supposed to move in next week but you begged her to let you move in tomorrow, and you've taken up on packing. 

Thankfully, Jacob is gone again, doing his celebrity work, whatever that could entail. 

You haven't seen him once since yesterday, when he confessed his love to you, then kissed you. You hadn't wanted to be kissed, or at least you think so.

On paper, maybe you should have enjoyed it. Jacob is attractive. He has loose waves and a pretty face. It felt bad, and gross, but it had also felt good, the kiss. Yet, you didn't think you could be in a relationship like that. With him. 

Who knows where that kiss could have gone. It may have escalated...

You cross your legs and squeeze your thighs thinking of the possibilities. You feel warm.

You should have hated the kiss. You did, but maybe not enough. Did you like Jacob? Oh my god. No, he was a total creep, and he hadn't even asked to kiss you.

He was only thinking of his own needs again, being selfish, just as he always had been with his inflated ego.

You've almost finished packing and it's early afternoon. You stretch yourself onto the bed and doze off.

-----

"Y/n? Are you home?" Jacob calls up. 

"Yeah, I'm here." You call down. 

"Come down, I brought dinner." 

You walk down the stairs and Jacob is in awe of your beauty. You have a glow. It's not the lighting, you're just a natural beauty, you're special. 

"Really? What'd you get?" You ask. Should you tell him the news that you're moving out after or during dinner? After, you decide. 

"I just got some Italian food." 

You smile at him. "Nice, I love pasta." 

"There's more to Italian food than pasta," He begins.  

You raise your eyebrows. "So no pasta?"

He grins. "Of course pasta." 

You're glad things are back to normal, because delivering the news will be easier now. Jacob unpacks everything and you smell the warm food, margherita pizza, pasta... 

You bring to the table 2 plates. 

As the 2 of you sit down, you stare at the plate most of time and eat ravenously. You've been so hungry all day, this is a blessing. 

Jacob tells you about the new interview he did, and how he had to sign "a 1000 autographs" 

Dinner is soon finished and Jacob brings out a bottle of wine. "Let's have a drink on the sofa." He suggests. You hesitate. "It's fine, everyone drinks Y/n, don't be so prudish" You relax on the sofa and taste the wine in your glass. It's fine, but you would really prefer anything else.

Jacob turns on the t.v. He sighs. "I've been lonely recently to an empty house, I'm glad you're here with me now." 

Aw man, why'd he have to say that? You freeze and the sentence you've been building up to saying gets stuck. You feel warm and fuzzy because of the wine. Your eyes feel kind of heavy too. 

"Speaking of- speaking of empty houses, I hate to say this Jacob, but I am leaving... ...tomorrow." You tell him, looking past him. 

Jacob stares at you with sharp eyes with that sentence. 

"What do you mean. When will you be back?" He asks, suddenly, and harshly, grabbing your wrist. 

"Jacob, I'm moving out." You say, trying to remain gentle. You notice the strange look on his face, it's not anger or sadness, or maybe it is? You're not sure. "I mean, I'll visit! Dinner at your place sometimes?" You add, trying to appease him.

He tightens the grip on your wrist. 

"Ow! Jacob, stop, it hurts! My wrist hurts!" You shout. You try to twist it out of his hand but it hurts more doing that. He doesn't let go. His eyes darken. 

"What, is it because of this kiss yesterday? You know, I'm sorry, but you wanted it too. I could tell." He asks, staring directly at your own eyes, unmoving. 

"Huh? Jacob you're ridiculous. I didn't want it, and yeah, one of the factors is the kiss. Also what you just said to me. Let go." 

"Don't go, stay." He tells you. 

"I've already made all the plans. I'm moving tomorrow. You probably didn't notice but I'm done packing." You retort back, trying to move away. 

Jacob slaps you in the face. The sting leaves you paralyzed in fear. "I said, don't go!" He shouts. He lets go your wrist and you notice immediately the numbness and redness on your wrist. 

You break down in tears and you start to scream for help. A neighbour, someone, anybody, to hear this and call the police.

But the alcohol blurs and softens your actions, like a terrible dream. Your arms feel weak. And that's when you realize that Jacob didn't have any wine himself. Had he meant for you to become intoxicated by yourself?

"Shut up!" Jacob barks at you and pulls you by your hair. "I confess my feelings toward you and you choose the coward's way and leave? Instead of working on this relationship?" 

"Stop!" You sob. Jacob stuffs a kitchen towel in your mouth and holds it their to stop your screaming. He then wraps it with a ripped plastic bag to secure.

You gag and almost throw up with the sudden intrusion of a foreign object in your mouth.

Holding your wrists with one hand he searches for something else. 

Jacob squats to your level and brings out a needle with a strange liquid already prepared inside. Your eyes widen and and your muffled screams do nothing to help your case.

"I didn't want to use it this early, but you're trying to leave. Leave us." He explains. 

"It'll hurt by the way. It's supposed to make you fall asleep. I think the alcohol is not supposed to be taken with this, but you escalated the situation so there's no helping it. I didn't want to do this. I wanted to have some fucking damn food with you. You're the one who's robbing me of choices and making me into a monster." 

Even in your panic you notice him rambling.

He's frantic and crazed, like a desperate maniac, sweat beads and wide pupils. 

He grabs your upper arm and quickly injects the strange liquid into your body.

 It hurts. 

All your muscles seize up and it feels like you're being ripped to shreds. Your body slowly goes limp and you feel yourself falling into a deep darkness. 

[buddierecs]

firefighter/normal job buddie fics

these fics have one of them as firefighters and the other with a normal job as per the request :) this list has different rated fics, so please look at the rating make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

call you home by: ashavahishta "5 times eddie told the firefam about buck and 1 time they actually met him" word count: 6k rating: general audience important tags: 5+1 things, different first meeting au, married!buddie, fluff we fell in love dancing kizomba by destimushi "after tragedy strikes close to home, firefighter eddie diaz moves him and his son, christopher, to LA where they can start fresh." word count: 125k rating: explicit important tags: cooking instructor!buck, bdsm, dom!eddie diaz, sub!evan buckley, dom/sub biology and we can stay all day by: trippedandfell "buck's a zoologist. eddie's pretty sure he's in love." word count: 3.3k rating: general audience important tags: alternative universe, zoologist!buck

what is love for $2000? by: fayevian "one night when eddie can't sleep, he discovers the hottest Jeopardy contestant of all time (objectively). with the "help" of his team and his fairly good working knowledge of twitter, they devise a plan to get evan (from Jeopardy) to slide into eddie's dms. it works surprisingly well." word count: 17k rating: mature important tags: multimedia, texting, humor, frottage i like you so much (it's kinda gross) by: aficatyourfingerstips, brewrosemilk "eddie is an MMA fighter and buck thirsts on twitter" word count: 10k rating: explicit important tags: celebrity au, social media, texting, sexting stupid people by: brewrosemilk "new in los angeles, and having recently admitted to himself that he's gay, eddie figures that hiring a sex worker might be a good way to keep his private life cut off from his job and his son. a way to keep things from becoming too complicated. it works. for a while." word count: 160k rating: explicit important tags: different first meetings au, sex worker!evan buckley, friends with benefits, friends to lovers, multimedia, blow jobs, rough sex, praise kink, come slut!evan buckely, light dom!sub, phone sex, riding if i lay here, would you life with me (forget the word) by: browney3dgirl6 "the one where eddie’s in the army, shannon gives up her rights to chris, and eddie needs a babysitter. good thing lena knows buck, the guy having nothing better to do than help babysit until eddie gets back. eddie would come home, and he would leave; it wasn’t like they were going to build some lifetime friendship or anything." word count: 90k rating: explicit important tags: different first meeting au, army!eddie diaz, slow burn, idiots in love, literal sleeping together, long distance relationship, soft!buddie, eventual smut i'm cold but you light the fire within me by: beulaugh "buck shows up for career day at eddie's school, and both of them struggle to rein in their attraction." word count: 22k rating: general audience important tags: different first meetings au, teacher!eddie, first kiss, careers day frequent flyer by whileyoursleeping "the one where eddie is a firefighter, buck isn't, and eddie finds himself rescuing buck from increasingly sticky situations. sometimes literally." word count: 13k rating: mature important tags: mild hurt/comfort, buck has bad luck, fluff

smoke and ashes brushed off with ink by princessfbi "tattoo artist!eddie diaz AU inspired by the tumblr thread about praise kink discovery when getting a tattoo" word count: 18k important tags: eddie diaz takes care of evan buckley, non-sexual submission, praise kink, ptsd, art therapy

[writingdisposal]

Vox is soooo fucking hot dude

Vox as a regular romantic interest is pretty bad already, but as a yandere? He is insufferable. Of course, he will keep an eye on you wherever you go, even before you really meet him. I don't think Vox would use his powers to achieve his goal of pursuing you. It seems more that he would use it as a "last-didge" effort to secure you, but for that to occur Vox would have to be incompetent. He is anything but that.

You will fall for his charisma, his smooth voice that is so addicting to listen to, especially when he compliments you so well every chance he gets. Vox will make sure, whatever you see of him is nothing, but absolute perfection. Any show you watch starring him will be subtly be about how good of a partner he would be. A cook show where Vox creates your favourite meals. Another show talking about famous celebrities' relationships where Vox occasionally sprinkles in a "I don't know about you folks, but I can't imagine doing something like that!" when the relationship has some sort of drama to it.

I also imagine he would force some sort of meeting, assuming there is zero connection he and the other Vees have to you. Maybe he will make some low-life try robbing you and the 'oh-so' charming TV host Hell can't get enough of is there to save you. Maybe he just 'randomly' finds you sleeping in some alleyway, down on your luck, and he graciously offers you a job at his company. Or maybe he does an interview on Hell's population to see what their opinion is on the newest Voxtech.

Either way this man will find a way and have you fall for him. For the first few months he will even act the part of a loving and supportive partner. Over time though, Vox will change.

As usual Vox was monitoring the viewing charts as well as the money generated from the shows. Even though he was focused, he heard the elevator bringing someone up. No need to look, Vox knew who wanted to visit. "Hello babe," he said, still tapping away on the keyboard, "missed me that much, heh?" Giggling you hugged him from behind, "I can't hide anything from you, can I?" "No, you can't," Vox turned to you, kissing up your arm, "Mind helping me out a little here? I'm really tensed up and need some relaxing." You blush, pushing him back a little.

You wanted to tell him no, but he pulled you back with enough force to make you fall on his chair. He kissed your cheek. "Come on sweetheart, I've always been so good to you," Vox reminded you, static echoes scratchng his voice, "You should be more loving, you know." He was right. He was always so sweet to you and its time to repay the kindness. Even though it doesn't feel right, you will give in. You always will until it feels normal.

Once he knows you won't leave anymore, Vox will have outbursts in front of you. And because you are so used to his hot and cold attitude, you will find a weird mix of fear and attractiveness in his screams. Especially outbursts involving Alastor will be scary. Sometimes Vox forgets the position he is in and get rough with you. Of course, in instances like these he will apologise afterwards, but that might be the only times where the picture had so carefully painted crumbles.

If you ever decide to leave, Vox will know and put measurements to prevent it. It will be relatively successful, but once you're gone, Vox uses every available resource to secure you back. He will call everything just regular quarrel between lovers. The only sanctuary you might find is in the Hazbin Hotel, but this will lead to a smear campaign by Vox, so your stay is going to be questioned frequently.

Your chances of getting away from Vox are low and he will make sure, you realise he will forever be the better option in this godforsaken place, so be sweet and go to him willingly before he forces you to go.

[sawyerconfort]

dancing with the devil | verna x reader

I'm back!!!

this one is just a spooky season special, as I've been away for all these days and haven't done one yet, I thought it would be cool to do it now!

this oneshot comes a lot from my obsession with Mike Flanagan's work, which even led me to watch The Fall of the House of Usher recently.

and, of course, it also comes from my obsession with Carla Gugino.

so, I hope you like it!

late requests coming out soon, so stay tuned!

enjoy!

requests open, but please be patient with me.

---------------------

PROMPT: It's New Year's Eve, and you find yourself in a bar, completely alone, with no one to give you the good luck's kiss. But a mysterious new barista catches your eye, and she could be your salvation, if only she didn't hide so many secrets.

***

You weren't one to complain, but it had been a pretty horrible year.

People generally await the New Year with a lot of ambition, full of resolutions, glamorous plans and self-centered achievements. But you do not.

You just wanted the next one to be better.

As if the miserable conditions you were experiencing at Fortunato were not enough, not being paid enough for the effort you made, sitting at the reception desk at the behest of the great Rufus Griswold - who did nothing except try to harass you in every way -, in a routine exhausting where you could never sleep properly, you still had your parents, and the terrible relationship you had with them.

So, when you sat at that bar, at the lonely counter, all you thought about was stuffing yourself until you pass out, hoping for a counting miracle. Some people were getting along well when you arrived, and others were giving you side-eye, but with the thought that you were less attractive to them, you decided that the counter would be the best option.

Suddenly, those eyes that looked yellow from afar fell on you, and the figure that carried them turned around, with a subtle smile.

"I see someone needs a drink, hm?"

You looked at her, and shrugged, before answering. "Just today. I can't drink, I still have work tomorrow."

She continued to smile, and you had the slight impression that her eyes had returned to their normal color. Clear, deep and very eye-catching. But it could just be the impression, because you were too exhausted to make sense.

"Ah, I understand. Just a minute, I'll prepare something relaxing for you, miss…"

"(Y\N)."

She nodded, turning away and concentrating on preparing whatever the drink was. Like I said before, you were too tired to care about what drink you were going to drink. If you could just get to New Year with something in your throat, that would be a good idea.

After minutes that felt like seconds of waiting, the barista turned to you, two shiny glass cups in her hands. She was still smiling subtly as she slid your glass and turned hers in her other hand.

She served you with the same smile, and then looked at you. "It's funny, I can see there's something wrong with you... Something that's stopping you from celebrating tonight."

You looked back at her, frowning, and sighing afterwards.

"It's true, it was... It wasn't a very good year", you commented, feeling terrible for venting to a stranger. "But the year ahead will be better, I know that."

"And why is that? Why was it so bad?"

"My boss, my work... everything makes me exhausted... and not having anyone to talk to is really bad at these moments...", You took a sip. "Um, that's great, is it Merlot?"

"It's Merlot, but it's not one of the best...", the barista said, tapping her glass still. "I've seen and experienced better, around the world."

"Have you been around the world?", you asked, unable to resist your curiosity. She smiled and nodded. "Where did you go? On that expedition?"

"I've been there too, but not just on this occasion", she said, and suddenly stopped, as if she were saying too much. "You know, it's interesting, being on the other side. Sometimes it's tiring, it breaks my heart, but... It's good, there are things there that are worth the effort."

You were more intrigued. She didn't look like the type of person who would travel around the world, wearing black clothes and a gothic look, as if she wanted to hide on purpose. Generally, these trips are made for people who want to be seen, above all else in the world.

"What are you talking about, exactly?"

"Have you ever had a dream... a desire... a deep, hidden desire that no one has ever fulfilled, and that you yourself didn't imagine you could achieve?", she looked at you with the same curiosity as you. "I'm like... A dream maker. I go on these trips just for that..."

You frowned, still not understanding, but took another sip to hide it, nodding.

"Are you the personification of the genie in the lamp?"

She laughed. "Ah, I would like to, but no. It would be a lot of ego on my part, but I would say that I'm better than him", she laughed. "Verna is my name, but the name never makes that much of a difference to me."

“Different name, never heard it before,” you said, drinking again. "Are you from here?"

"I'm from nowhere. I'm everywhere, at all times... it's strange, I know, but it makes sense to me."

You nodded, finding it strange. And then, he found it even stranger when she helped herself to the Merlot on the counter and drank some. She smiled at you, still tapping the glass.

"But what about you, (Y/N)? Do you have any desires that you thought would be unrealizable, unattainable? Please be honest with me."

You opened your mouth, and then thought a little. "No. I think I'm happy this way. Except for a few little things that I would change here and there..."

She softened her gaze and took a sip, her clear eyes suddenly yellowed again and wide, fixed on you. "What kind?"

“Like, my boss giving me the justice I deserve, and stop hitting on me,” you laughed, drinking the last sip and pouring yourself again. "Not much."

"Your boss is too terrible for you, (Y/N)," Verna replied, smiling. "Don't ask me how I know this, but I do. One day someone will show him what's really good, don't worry."

You frowned. "You seem so sure, are you some kind of psychic?"

She laughed. "No. I would like to be, but no. I... I see people's possibilities. And that's it. I help them based on the possibilities."

She stared at you again, and looked away at the TV, where the ball was falling on the screen in Times Square.

"Oh, it looks like it's almost time," she whispered, laughing. "Your year is going to be great, (Y/N), I'll make sure of that."

“You…” you started, but she shushed you, smiling.

"You just have to make a deal with me."

"What kind of deal?"

Verna thought for a while, and then smiled. "Wow, you seem so sure..."

She was mocking you, of course, you realized right away, and with a muffled laugh, you glanced back at the TV, hearing people echoing a countdown. The ball finally reached its destination, and you turned around, seeing Verna's yellow eyes glued to yours again. She suddenly leaned over and stole a peck from you, taking a little too long to pull away.

“Was that your deal?”, you whispered, smiling mischievously. Verna took a moment to open her eyes and then tilted her head, as if agreeing.

She thought for a while and then finally said, her voice low, slowly close to your ear, as if she wanted to seduce or bewitch you. She had one of the softest voices you'd ever heard, and apparently she knew how to use it.

"Actually, it was a plan to find out if you were trustworthy, if you were innocent enough to accept my deal…", she whispered. "And because I know, deep down, that what you wanted most was to be kissed on New Year's Eve, my sweet client."

You trailed off, looking at her, getting lost in the soft expression on her pale face. Suddenly, an impulsive idea occurred to you, and you leaned in again, kissing her, this time with more intensity. When you touched her hair, behind the back of her head, you had the impression that it melted at the touch, as if Verna were just an illusion, as if she were the literal cosmic dust from which human beings possibly emerged.

However, the kiss didn't last long. She pushed you away with her feather-light hands, and to the naked eye, it looked like it was just a breeze of wind stopping you both. She touched your face, running her fingers lightly across your cheek as she whispered:

"We can't do that right now, (Y\N). I'm afraid you're not sober enough, and it wouldn't be wise for me to take advantage of this."

You looked at it for a moment and realized it made sense. But she had kissed you first, so it was clearly just an excuse, as always happened. You started to wonder if your kiss was that bad.

"But, Verna…"

"Please, darling. I'm trying to be reasonable. Like I said, I work with possibilities, and the possibility of us working out is less than zero. Don't get me wrong, it's just in case…", she hesitated. "Condemning pure-souled humans to my cruel and inevitable fate wouldn't be extremely political of me."

You sighed, and gave her the space she needed, even though you couldn't take your eyes off her. Verna was the same, and you could feel that, despite what it seemed like, that moment you shared wasn't just fun, much less just a New Year's kiss.

Verna poured you the rest of the Merlot and, with the same soft expression, touched your face again. This time, her voice was clear, and in a moment of vulnerability, she made it more than explicit that she wasn't lying when she said:

"But we'll still meet, (Y\N)," she whispered, her fingers again like soft feathers touching his skin. "Our deal may not have been sealed, but you've proven enough innocence and courage to convince me that you're capable of this. You'll have a great new job, I promise, and your boss will never bother you again."

She nodded, and you allowed yourself to nod too, so confused that you definitely didn't know what to believe anymore. There was a little devil on your shoulder urging you to try again, and there was another devil, right in front of you, who would be harder to convince than you expected.

"And of course, you will have my full protection," Verna whispered, smiling. "I'm not going to promise you eternal life, because that would be impossible even for someone like me. But I promise, and I need you to believe me on this one, I promise that I will move mountains so no one will hurt you again."

You smiled, and drank the last sip. Suddenly, another impulse. This time, a question, instead of an action.

"What are you? An angel? A genie without a lamp? A tempting devil who seeks souls and deals?"

Verna smiled, and simply looked away at her glass again, magically empty. "I already told you. I'm nothing, I don't have a life. I'm just what your mind wants me to be."

You were confused, but suddenly, a memory hit you hard. When you looked at Verna, it was as if she already knew.

"I really need to go. My mom will be furious if I get home late, even on New Year's..."

She nodded. "Please don't take any chances. This part, I won't be able to protect you."

You laughed, stood up and slid out the only dollar bill you had. Verna looked at the ballot, he turned it around and handed it back to you, denying it.

"No need. The bill is already paid."

"What?"

"Please don't insist. I insist."

You looked at her, shrugged, and frowned, suddenly realizing that maybe it was for the best. She kept watching you, until you left, and as soon as you turned outside, on the street, you noticed who had just walked through a solid wall.

The bar was gone.

And she was gone too.

Even more confused - and blaming the drink -, you put your hands in your pockets to protect yourself, and walked back home, into the daylight. As soon as you crossed the street, however, another very curious thing caught your attention.

There was a raven, standing still, resting on a post. It was just any raven, but it was a raven, and it looked down at you. Suddenly, you had the impression that he had winked at you.

"What nonsense. Ravens don't blink," you whispered to yourself, looking at the raven again. He remained there, standing still, as if he hadn't even noticed you. Deciding to ignore that crazy night, you turned around.

As you disappeared down the street, you whispered to yourself once again.

"Ravens don't blink."

Oh, but if you only knew that they do more than blink... If you only knew...

[xxe123spiderfreakxx]

not to have Opinions as a Judgmental Lesbian but while i love the concept of possessive jayvik, the way a lot of ppl write jayce as possessive and how he thinks of viktor in those moments is so ick tho

like.

i get some ppl are attracted to muscular masculine men being dom tops (and if u are, run from this post, im about to be really mean bc im Extremely Not) or whatever but i think it's so Uninteresting. and conventional, at best. not to mention in those moments if he's calling viktor a whore or something degrading (especially if viktor has historically been a whore or even a sex worker in that fic, or if he's thinking about him with slurs used for zaunites) it just hits so much worse imo.

irdc if ur writing that viktor is into it.

like im sorry, viktor calling jayce a slut is different. it just is.

no i dont think ppl who like this are bad ppl. not exactly. i dont want to hear ur opinions or read ur fics but i dont think ur inherently the devil, i just think ur taste is boring and can potentially be a slippery slope into Weird territory if ur not careful. especially if ur being willy nilly about class issues in service of jorkin it, not examining unconscious ableist biases and/or are clinging a little too tightly to conventional gender stereotypes....

but honestly, im mostly just being an unserious hater of dom!jayce and top!jayce that isn't bottoming-from-the-top HAHAHAHAHHA- i love that there's been a surgence of bottom!jayce content lately. like that's the real tea. celebrating viktor being disabled and a top (and a dom in some cases) is really slay and imo waaaay more in character for him.

and also this is my unserious sneering of how i dont understand how u wouldnt prefer top/power bottom/dom!viktor, like that shit goes so hard actually, do u know this??? 😭

(no i dont actually want to have top/bottom ship discourse here, u can make whatever content u want- im making a gripe on my own blog/putting my thoughts together on why i feel that way and tagging jayvik to see if other jayvik heads relate. that's all. feel free to bitch about this on ur own if u want)

the concept of a more powerful man, in more ways than one, wanting to submit and wholeheartedly devote himself to someone he a) doesnt have to/could easily erase from his project, and b) someone who is regarded as second class or worse in his society, and yet he practically worships the ground he walks on is so gas actually <3

and viktor getting to find a sweet, pretty hunk that he gets to boss around, who understands him and his interests like no one else has, and who he also loves and who loves him back just as insanely is so extremely cute it makes my heart hurttttt <333 i love these freaksssss

that being said, i love switch!jayvik too.

i will never hate switching, it's honestly preferred for me to see characters switch tbh and how that shakes up the (sexual) dynamic- jayvik included <333 that shit has so much potential, and while ive bitched about top and/or dom!jayce i think they can be done well. im just uber picky about it 😭 like again, service top!jayce that is desperate to please viktor (and really really gets off on pleasuring him, whether he actually cums or not) or bottoming-from-the-top are always class 👍🏻 soft dom!jayce is really cute, especially when romantic and sincere devotional stuff flusters the hell out of viktor when he's normally confident in sexual situations. hell, soft dom!viktor is also very cute, i love a soft dom. i just also think viktor bullying jayce is fucking aces 😭😭😭

and i also love viktor really getting off on pleasuring jayce, it's not exclusive one way or the other. i want them to be insane and toxic about each other, that's the point.

and if u want to make a point that jayce has to learn to appreciate viktor more with a divorce era he starts by fucking up (like canon) then fine, im a bitch that's a believer in forgiveness and redemption when someone owns their mistakes and tries to be better. i like a toxic romance, a dark romance even depending on the contents. i personally only started liking jayce when he desperately brought back viktor (bc he couldnt live without him and despite the fact viktor didnt want to be revived, and i understood why that and other things made viktor break up with him), got depressed when they broke up and then went through his Flop Era in the crevice and had to do major self reflection. and then also glowed up before sacrificing himself to be with his man he tried to half-heartedly resist but couldnt 😭😭

so im all for jayce being a Huge Fuck Up, that is also not the issue <3

hell....i think possessive jayce can be done well too.

i just think u run into Weird territory if u focus too much on only him being possessive of viktor, and then having jayce saying shit like "youve never been fucked by anyone like this but me and never will again" and "i dont like seeing u with anyone else bc they dont appreciate u like i do" or "i cant believe u let other men treat u like that", or how "exotic" viktor/his accent is, or jayce doing/saying degrading/weird shit to him without asking beforehand if viktor would be into it, or how he thinks of viktor as "his" without it being mutual or even agreed upon (idc if it's only from jayce's POV, dialogue exists and can be utilized to show freak4freak dynamics <3).

ive never seen this written the other way around, deadass.

im sorry, it really really hits different imo given their physicalities and socioeconomic statuses. i cant divorce those things from them, and it makes viktor feel more like a fetished object that jayce feels entitled to rather than a person to jayce- especially especially if ur writing viktor as trans and jayce as cis. like im sorry, it makes it even worse. (if ur trans and into that shit, okay good for u, this isnt for u then) it gives me, a tranny, the ick. ive seen too many cis men (and women tho not as often) fetishize, degrade, not appreciate, and isolate their trans partners too often to not feel weird about that kind of behavior, especially if ur not showing it being mutual. it. hits. different.

maybe im also projecting sapphic inclinations on them but idc, jayvik can be sapphic coded as a treat. fuck it. there's plenty of a yaoi out there that me taking one for the girlies is hardly noticeable 😭✨️

anyway my bitching is done for the moment, yay jayvik and meljayvik and melvik giving me Insane brainworms for almost six months now- i would not have expected to be here back in 2021 but here we are 😭 <3 happy bottom jayce week or month or whatever. it should be bottom jayce year imo but that's just me 😭😝✨️

[galeorderbride]

Hey lovely!

I have a fluff / angst fic request if that’s OK.

Orin targets a companion at the Elfsong Tavern but luckily, it’s not Gale. F! Tav’s emotions are all over the place and Gale comforts her.

It’s pretty much a “What if she got you?” scenario.

Hope that’s OK 😊

Love this idea! Ask and you shall receive! I hope you like what I’ve put together for this request :)

Rating: T (Angst/fluff; Tav has a panic attack due to crowd claustrophobia + Orin’s antics)

Coupling: Gale x F!Tav

Words: 2.1k

Fic below the cut:

Orin’s Fourth Torment

Crowds are best for villains. Anonymous and clustered, both sheltered in the safety of many and isolated when targeted. Normally, the Elfsong Tavern was busy, but never crowded. Nights full of shouting regulars and barstools scraping against aged hardwood. Such a frequent occurrence that Tav grew used to the sounds after several stays in that shared room on the second floor.

Tonight was different. Tav, Gale, Karlach and Wyll returned from a long day of being harassed by Orin and her doppelgängers, drowning in stress and trying to hide their fear. All of them wanted a good, long rest. But upon arrival, Elfsong was flooded with city dwellers. Pouring all the way out the front entrance, throwing around coloured ribbons, the same ones hanging above doors and windows. A festival of some kind, a celebration important enough to attract a wider audience rather than the drunken faces that had grown familiar.

Tav would’ve just navigated the crowd and climbed the stairs to their room in any other circumstance. But after being tricked by Orin and assaulted by doppelgängers at a wine tasting, she was nothing short of anxious, impatient and irritated. Ready to cry at a moment’s notice as all the traumatic experiences of this months-long journey bubbled up from the pit of her stomach.

Gale, the saving grace to calm her soul at every turn, hooked his arm around hers. He inched close, saying in her ear, “Worry not, love. I’ve seen even bigger crowds than this at the Yawning Portal during Elient festivals. Gods, the cooking competitions are the worst for it! All we have to do is push through, it never lasts for as long as you may think.”

He was a beacon of light at the worst of times, quite literally as he illuminated the Shadow Cursed Lands on their first night together. When he confessed his love for her, they spent an evening shrouded in a poetic tapestry of stars, fresh air and intimacy. Tav locked into those thoughts, using them as a crutch to get through the bumbling crowd and up to their shared room.

“Come on soldiers!” Karlach exclaimed, “Follow me, I’ll break through the mob with these shoulders no problem. Nothin’ a little heat won't fix!”

Wyll’s brow raised in amusement before he followed her into the crowd. Gale went next, with Tav at the back, their hands entwined together to stay close. Left with standing room only, pushing through the flood of bodies who didn’t notice or care about them. The bar wasn’t all that large, Tav thought, she could see the top half of the steps from where they all stood.

Some steps in, a drunken man fell between Tav and Gale, splitting them up. Tav stumbled around for a moment, giving the man an obvious stink eye as they pushed past him with hard elbows. This frustration didn’t last long, though. In the corner of her eye was a woman, the familiar bloody, blonde braid swaying behind her as she slid the blade of a curved knife around her jaw. A malicious smile crept across her face, shifting from one part of the room to the next, like no one else noticed her but Tav. Panic and fear set in, her heartbeat loud in her ears, and time felt slow. None of her companions were close, all lost in the crowd, and Tav grew frantic.

Orin’s maniacal laugh boomed in Tav’s ears as she began to run, mumbling Gale’s name under her breath. The tavern felt miles long, impeded by the pilgrimage of party goers all trying to find the best place to enjoy the raucous music. Tav felt herself nearly float between bodies, hitching her ankle weirdly and falling backward. Vision tunnelled with panic and apprehension. Hardwood hit her back, head hitting the floor and looking up to see Karlach and Wyll hovering above.

“Hellsfire, Tav, are you alright?!” Wyll asked as he lowered his hand to her, helping her up. Upon standing, she realised she was at the steps, leading to the upper level.

“Gods, Tav, you look like you’ve seen a ghost!” Karlach pointed out.

“I’m not sure I haven’t,” Tav said, searching around the room for Orin to find nothing. Just the same crowd of party goers, blood red Bhaalspawn now nothing but a figment. Until she realised there was still a missing piece.

“Wait,” Tav continued, “Where’s Gale?”

He wasn’t standing with them, no poetic and lilted voice to lecture them on the importance of cohesion in a crowd. What frightened Tav the most was that, upon looking into the barrage of people, his glowing staff didn’t stick out. Charged with lightning magic that could be spotted from a mile away. Nothing. Tav stood on her toes, craning her neck to try and see across the entire room, but still, no Gale.

None of them saw him, Karlach using her height advantage but still came up with nothing. Tav felt the drum of her heartbeat once again, faster this time. Enough to kickstart a heart attack as the image of Orin’s violent smile fought back to the front of her mind. The last few times they saw her, she appeared in the body of her victim. Was this the final taunt from her? Taking the one Tav cared for most?

No, not today. Not ever. Tav killed the avatars of gods. Slain shadow cursed monsters a century into their torment. That Bhaalist was nothing, and Tav promised to make her death slow when she caught up to her. Chosen or not, clearly she and her companions made short work of another. With those thoughts, Tav’s anger fuelled alongside anxiety. Driven to push herself back into the crowd and search for Gale, or Orin. Wyll and Karlach called for her to stop, but she ignored them.

Shoulders bumped and rutted into Tav’s upper body, from rib cage to neck depending on height. Bobbing back and forth between people, Tav became too small for the crowd. Trying to ignore her heavy breathing and tightening chest as she gazed into the crowd, calling for Gale. Every face in front of her blurring into one, large feature melting into one another. Loud voices shouting into her ears, some chiding at her in flirtatious drunk-talk that made things all the more overwhelming. But finding Gale was at the forefront, Tav had to push away all other discomfort.

She found her strength a little, adrenaline coursing through her system as she began to push forward. Hard, fast, using the entirety of her strength to get a look at every face that crossed her path.

“Gale?!” Tav called, turning her head back and forth. Nothing in that corner.

She moved to another corner, and cried out again, voice cracking with tears. “Gale?!”

Nothing.

“Gale?!” Tav screamed this time, carrying over the heads of the crowd.

Still nothing.

The entire tavern must’ve been covered, and Tav began to let the worst sink in. Her back hit the wall, close to the front doors. Tears fell down her face, following the nauseating sound of Orin’s laugh echoing in her ears. She was there, permeating the room with touchless torture.

Tav let her body slide down the wall, weakening in the fluctuation between rage and terror. Stuck in the little, empty corner of misery as the endless song of Orin slammed into her ears. Her face fell into her palms, wet tears staining skin, salty and humiliating. Images of what might happen to Gale under Orin’s capture spiralled in their mind. Forms of bleak, guttural violence that would deeply harm but never kill. Leverage, a way to lure Tav further into her clutches. Visions of blood and viscera, and the faded nightmare of his agonising screams, so vivid that Orin had to be putting that in her head.

In her state of dread, a hand wrapped around her wrist. Large and tight, Tav jumped out of panic and poised to strike the assailant. Fist up and ready to smack the arsehole who decided to grab her in a dumb, drunken stupor. Until she heard that voice.

“Tav, my dear, it’s me! Are you alright?”

Gale’s face appeared before her, big, brown eyes wide open with concern. Tav was frozen in place, questioning if she’d passed out and was hallucinating him in a hazy dream. Tears staining her face, the feeling of his grip on her wrist, the details of his expression. Orin’s laugh had ceased. This had to be real, he had to be there in front of her.

“G-Gale? Is that really you?” Tav asked, voice shaking with suspicion and social exhaustion.

“Yes, why wouldn’t it be me? I’m sorry we got separated, my love. When that man fell between us, I was pushed toward the kitchen. I couldn’t find you in the crowd so I went around the outside and came in through here,” Gale explained.

Tav didn’t speak, she just jumped into a full hug. Arms wrapped around Gale as they both sat on the floor, in the midst of a wild crowd. Cracking beer bottles and shouting voices. Words weren’t enough, Tav needed to be in his embrace. To remind herself that her one shelter from the horrid world was still with her. Gale could see she was struggling, locked in fear for his safety. His heart swelled with worry, wondering what happened for one of the strongest people he’d met to fall to the ground and cry.

“Come, love. Let’s go outside and take some air. Get some quiet,” he said, lifting her up and leading them outside of the tavern.

Moonlight softened the blow of chaos within the bar. Passersby still swayed in joyous excitement, chatting and running about. But compared to the inside of Elfsong, this was complete silence. Crickets chirped in the background, and Gale moved her to an empty bench just beside the entrance. He held her close, arm wrapped around her waist and free hand playing with the loose hairs around her neck.

“Tell me what happened, Tav. You’re safe with me, I promise,” he said, planting a small kiss on her cheek. Tav’s eyes closed, forcing back more tears filled with a mix of relief and upset.

Tav explained Orin appearing in the crowd, taunting her as she lost sight of their companions. Calling out for Gale, almost passing out from panic as Orin’s laugh vibrated through her. Gale listened intently, increasing horror in his eyes as he let Tav admit how afraid she was that he’d been taken somewhere horrible. The entire time, they held hands, Gale squeezing on and off to remind her he was still there, alive and well.

“I’m sorry,” Tav said, sniffling as a few tears lined her eyelids again, “I thought she’d taken you away. And I felt so powerless to do anything. If she had grabbed you, I wouldn’t even know where you’d be! And the awful things that would happen…gods, why am I even saying that?!”

Gale pulled her closer, rocking her back and forth as he peppered little kisses at the top of her head. “Shh, it’s alright, Tav. I’m here. None of that happened, I’m safe with you. And even if she had tried to take me away, I trust with my entire heart that you’d have rescued me in time. With the same zeal and ferociousness I’ve seen you be since the beginning of this journey.”

Fear began to settle into calm, Gale’s comfortable embrace like a warm drink on a cold, wintery day. Seated on that bench, hidden from the coarse noise of the inner tavern. Eventually, they’d have to go back in, but not now. For the moment, they could just enjoy each other’s presence. Taste the early night air and smell the salty brine from the nearby dockyard. Gale thought to himself that this was almost like Waterdeep. Near enough to memories of sitting outside the Yawning Portal and taking in the breeze, preparing to return home. One day, he hoped to bring Tav with him there. To experience all the beauty of his home city, danger free. To be as boring and overly affectionate as every other couple.

Gale lifted Tav’s chin up with his index finger, hovering his lips against hers with baited breath. They kissed softly, cuddled up together. Welcoming each other back to that safe space where, for a moment, no one could hurt them. Fingers locked together, the taste of spearmint lining the tip of Tav’s tongue. All the panic fading away, replaced by the desire to fall asleep in his arms.

He left the kiss to say, “You’ll have to try a lot harder to get rid of me. Not even a Bhaalspawn could pull me away from you.”

Tav chuckled, rubbing their nose against his flirtatiously. “I’d like to see her try.”

[blippymilk]

Do You Have Something to Tell Me?

(Chapter 2)

Veneer x GN! Reader

Read chapter 1 here!

Summary: You’re a normal teen in Mount Rageous, and the biggest Veneer fan known to man. Everybody that knows you knows it too. Unfortunately it’s highly unlikely to date the celebrity of your dreams…unintentionally.

Warnings: Slight cursing, mentions of cheating

“Come on (____)…” Lili said as you readjusted your face in your pillow. “(____) still mad that they missed Velvet?” Romar said standing at your doorstep, bowl of cereal in hand. “What do you think?” Lili replied patting your back. Romar sat his bowl down on your desk and walked over to you. You could feel his shadow over you before he snatched the pillow from under your face. “Stopppp!” You said grabbing another pillow and putting it on top of your face now. “You don’t need to suffocate yourself though.” He said struggling to pull it off of you again.

Eventually he gave up when you weren’t budging and you all three sat in silence. “Is it true that Veneer wasn’t there?” You asked, you voice muffled through the pillow. “I promise Veneer was nowhere in sight, if he was we would’ve come to get you a long time ago.” Lili said. A couple seconds later you pulled the pillow off of you. “Besides I’m pretty sure she was only there because of her brother.” Romar said as you sat up straight. He ate from his bowl again as you shot him daggers. “What?” He said eating as your eye contact got more intense. “Oh uh yeah apparently he snuck away or something and she was trying to track him down.” “She said that?” You asked. “Well that’s what we could make out through her distressed screams.” Lili chuckled.

“She’s such a bratty diva, I bet Veneer is just the same.” Lili said but she was serious.

“Exactly that’s what makes her amazing. Aren’t all the best divas extremely talented?” Romar added on.

“It doesn’t make you anymore talented or attractive.”

“Not exactly true but ok.”

“That’s my opinion though so.”

“And that’s fine, you’re entitled to your wrong opinion.”

“Guys stop bickering,” you interrupted, “It’s a stupid argument we’re about to start here. And Veneer is definitely not a brat.” You made sure Lili heard that last comment.

________________________________________________________

After Lilli and Romar left your house the next day, you couldn’t find anything to do. I mean you had invitations to go places with some of your “friends”, but you weren’t really interested to be honest. You scrolled across the media, then Veneer’s page, then had a little dance break, then viewed Veneer’s page, then got a snack, then…you get the gist.

Finally you put your phone down and searched across your room with your eyes. There was litteraly nothing to do except maybe a couple chores. Why not? You got up an grabbed your jacket that had been laying on the floor for a day. You planned to wash, but before you did you had to check the pockets. One was empty, one contained a piece of paper. That’s when it struck you that you had Victor’s number in your possession. You quickly grabbed the note and threw your jacket back to the floor.

You dialed the number in your phone and quickly hesitated before texting him instead. You sent a simple ‘hi’ and waited for him to respond. Not even 10 seconds later the status changed from delivered to read. ‘Heyyy wsp?’ He responded.

You texted back, ‘Nothing much just a little bored yk.’

Typing… ‘Yeah I feel that. I’m surprised you actually texted me’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah. But I’m happy tho :)’

That made you smile a little. Was he actually wanting your time?

The conversation with him lasted all night. You were actually quite entertained by him. You guys played mini games and asked so many questions about each other. You actually got to learn quite a lot of about Victor and that he really was cool. You guys had even moved from talking over text to talking over the phone after not too long.

“Ok ok so any celebrity crushes?” You asked him as he thought. “I mean no not really, I never really thought about having one. I prefer my relationships to be 100% real and thoughtful.” He replied. “How do you know celebrities aren’t real and thoughtful?” You asked. “Umm I don’t? It was really just a guess. Anyways who’s your celebrity crush?” He asked as you started getting excited. “Veneer 100% he’s the hottest guy in Mount Rageous. Ever!” You said. Victor’s line had went silent and after you calmed down you had asked him why he was quiet so suddenly. “Uh no reason.” You were curious now, “Oh come on, I can basically here the smile in your voice,” you stated before your smile dropped, “You better not be crushing on my man Victor! I’ll find your location right now!” He chuckled, “Nope you can keep your man.”

It went quiet for a moment before you yawned. Victor chuckled a little, “Getting tired eh?” You yawned again, “Yeah I’m about to go to sleep soon.” You replied turning off the lights in your room. “Yeah me too. Um- is there like anyway at all we could meet up tomorrow? Possibly? If not it’s fine.” He said catching you by surprise. “I mean sure why not, like to do what?” Veneer hesitated, “Well what do you like to do?” You thought before smiling a bit, “Hmm I like…trampoline parks. Annnndddd I like eating?” You said. “Great! How about I pick you up at 1:00 pm tomorrow?” You agreed and ended the call, immediately climbing into your bed and falling asleep.

________________________________________________________

The next morning you woke up and checked your phone. 11:47. You yawned and suddenly remembered you that you had planned to hang out with Victor today. You turned on some music and began to get ready for your day. You went to your bathroom and began to shower. Maybe it was the hot water that woke you up when it hit you, but you suddenly thought about how Victor had technically asked you on a date. Which wouldn’t be a problem but, you did have a boyfriend (that hasn’t called you in a week). ‘Eh he’dunderstand’ you thought as you continued bathing.

You decided to dress casual since Victor would be taking you to a trampoline park.

(You can choose one of these or choose your own)

Eventually Victor picked you up and you both were headed to the trampoline park. To your surprise Victor’s car was nice, like really really nice. It was the closest you could get to a luxury car without it actually being a luxury car. It was a black vehicle with green rims.

You were left in awe as soon as you hopped in his car. As Victor drove he smiled at you still gaping, “What?” He laughed. “This car is amazing! And so expensive! How did you even afford this? You’re litteraly a teenager!!” You said piling on questions.

“Woah woah,” Victor said interrupting you, “I guess you just have to work hard.” He shrugged. It didn’t really answer you question, and Victor almost seemed unsure but you sat back and enjoyed the ride.

About 3 minutes in and Victor was offering you the aux cord. “Wanna play something?” He asked as your eyes lit up. You quickly hooked it up to your phone and played “Watch me Work”, one of Velvet and Veneer’s hottest songs. “I should’ve known.” Victor smirked. “Shh! Veneer’s part is coming up.” Victor quickly shut his mouth as …Veneer sang his quick line. “Ugh. I swear his sister doesn’t give him enough time on the microphone. I need a song with him leading and Velvet singing, or better yet just Veneer singing.” You said. “You think so?” Victor asked as you nodded, turning up the radio. Maybe if you weren’t so into the song you would’ve noticed how incredibly red Victor’s face was.

You had fun with Victor at the trampoline park and he honestly impressed you. He was very flexible and (you were too but like this man’s insane). He knew how to all sorts of flips. You’d seen him do tricks that you’d also seen Veneer attempt and succeed at on stage before.

After a couple hours at the trampoline park, Victor took you to a pizza restaurant. You both figured it’d be a great way to sit down and get to know each other better.

“So Victor, I don’t know if you recall me asking last time but I was wondering if you’d take your shades off?” You asked before sipping your drink. “Why do you wanna see my eyes so bad huh?” He asked smiling a bit. You shrugged, “I dunno, I mean we’re getting to know each other and I don’t even know the color of your eyes yet, please?” You asked giving him fake puppy eyes. Victor took his glasses off and you were met with…brown eyes. Brown eyes that seemed so familiar but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Almost like you’d seen them before, but something was off about them, as if the wrong color or something. “Happy now?” Victor asked. “Pleased.” You replied before opening your menu.

After going back and forth getting to know each other, you decided you really liked Victor’s company. You figured he liked you too, but in a more romantic type of way. You didn’t want to shoot him down, especially if you didn’t even know if he really liked you or not. After all you did have a…

“Jalen!” You said as you watched your boyfriend walk through the restaurant doors. “Who?” Victor asked you. “My boyfriend.” You replied as Victor cocked his eyebrow, “Your…boyfriend?” he almost sounded defeated, but your eyes were glued to your boyfriend who was standing at the door, looking around the restaurant. Was he here looking for you? Your location wasn’t even on. Was it a coincidence? Out of all the restaurants in the world and he just happened to end up here? However your fear quickly turned to confusion when a girl walked up to him and gave him a hug. The anger when she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Jalen!” You shouted loud enough for him to hear this time. You got up and walked over to your boyfriend who’s eyes widened. “Who is this woman and why is she kissing you?” You asked as he stuttered a bit. “She’s my c-cousin” he stammered. “Don’t hit me with that cousin sh*t Jalen. You’re a liar!” You pushed him a bit. That’s when Victor came up running behind you. “And who’s this?” Jalen’s worry quickly dropped and turned to almost a smug face. “A friend.” You replied crossing your arms. “How do I know you’re not lying to me.” Jalen said. “Stop trying to turn this around.” “Answer the question.”

“She’s not lying man, we’re cool. We’re literally just friends.” Victor spoked up. “No one was talking to you ‘man’” Jalen brushed past you, and met face to face with Victor. “He’s being honest.” You replied. “I don’t know that for sure or not.” Jalen said still glaring at Victor who stood his ground.

“You do this too often! You literally thought I was cheating on you with Romar!” You said. “And I still don’t know if you are or not.” He replied turning back around. “Romar is gay, stupid!” You shouted.

Jalen kept trying to bicker with you and eventually you were over it. “Victor can we just go? I don’t want to be here anymore.” You asked him. “Yeah let me unlock my car you can go wait.” Victor said as you walked out the restaurant. Jalen watched as Victor ran back to the table, and put the leftover pizza in a to-go box.

Once finished, Victor headed back over to the door of the restaurant, glaring at Jalen and the girl before leaving.

“As*holes.” And with that he was out the door.

Taglist: @cookiemunches @crowleysthings (for some reason I couldn’t tag some of you so I’ll just alert you that I posted a part 2)

(I alr have ideas for the next part 😋)

[sunthyme]

Let's go!! Part five, baby! I'm literally having so much fun with these omg. Y'all are so sweet every time, istg I'll cry. If y'all draw my ocs, I WILL cry ong. Also, be warned, this post will have a LOT of characters lol. Welcome to...

🪻Pomefiore🪻

This dorm is so unfairly pretty, wth... Also, despite having 4 freshmen, there is only one second year 😭😭😭. Enjoy!~

First up, our queen in all her glory,

💅Vil Schoenheit💅

(she/he/they) Genderfluid (leaning towards fem mostly) - Panromantic Demisexual

Not me simping for my own design with this one oml.

- I've seen quite a few people headcanon Vil as Desi and I agree. I also view her as technically genderfluid but she normally presents very fem and is on occasion like, "Hm, masculine pronouns today."

- I was going to keep the blonde and make her have some root colour showing but it wasn't looking right. To be honest, she's slaying with the darker hair though.

- Made his eyes a deeper, purple-y blue and their earrings were a gift from Rook as they match her eyes almost perfectly.

- Totally a mother hen, keep in mind I literally have hardly seen her yet but I /think/ that's canon lol?

- Fashion nerd and could list the eras of different fashion trends and famous designers off the top of their head.

- Not a fan of physical activity, just does it to be in fit shape. She actually really likes to read nonfiction and love art history as well.

- Met Rook as first years and they bonded immediately. Probably the first person that Vil really clicked with.

Speaking of...

🏹Rook Hunt🏹

(he/they/she/etc. Doesn't really care lol) Unlabelled Gender - Pansexual

Quick comment: Why does he look so fcuking weird w/out his hat in-game??? I have his ceremonial robes card and if he didn't already scare me, he definitely does now. I think my version looks a little less weird. Anyways, side tangent over.

- I kept his fuck-ass bob, it's simply too iconic, though I gave it a bit more volume and shape. You can decide if he's a natural blonde or not lol.

- I headcanon him to be Chinese and French, and he grew up bilingual. Has a hell of and accent and when he gets upset, they just swap to either Chinese or French, it's a fifty-fifty depending on the day.

- They're not super visible but the bow and arrow earrings were a gift from Vil to celebrate Rook winning an archery competition. I think it was pretty early in their friendship but that's when Rook registered her feelings for Vil.

- For as open as Rook is about finding others attractive, it gets nervous to directly compliment Vil to her face. This is more obvious with saying "I love you," which he doesn't mind tossing out to most people, it's just really personal toward Vil so they avoid saying it lol.

- Most of the compliments that Rook gives Vil are things Vil is already aware of so Rook doesn't chance bringing up all the things they love about Vil. (Can you tell I love them?)

Enough about RookVil. Time for my boy!!

🍎Epel Felmier🍎

(he/him) Transmasc - Gay

*Breaks out the southern accent* Y'all thought the others thus far have been long, hoo boy... Y'all are in for a real treat.

- Firstly, my boy is transmasc. I feel like that's pretty widely accepted 'round these parts but I figured I should shout it out anyways.

- I made him mixed, Scandinavian? and Japanese and gave him some brown eyes to boot. Kept his face real dainty but gave him broader shoulders and a farmer's tan 'cause y'all know he's working at his parent's farm every summer.

- He's styled in like, the southern goth aesthetic and I added some green to his hair 'cause the 'poison' part of 'poisoned apple' wasn't coming across enough. By the way, his grandma dyes her hair in solidarity with him. She's cool. Be like Epel's grandma.

- When he first arrived at NRC, he only had his lobes pierced, then he saw Jade's piercings and was like "I want that,". Jade directed him to Cater, who gave him all his other piercings (not at the same time lmao). Everytime he got a new one, Vil would have a minor heart attack lol.

- I think he'd also actually really like cute things, one of the reasons he lets Vil doll him up for so long, but hates bringing it up 'cause people call him 'girly' or 'feminine' for it. This is another underlying factor for my Jack/Epel dynamic but I'll save that for later.

- Speaking of Savanaclaw, I think he has plans to transfer at the beginning of sophomore year. Also, because he hangs around Jack so much, they kinda consider him a part of the pack. In particular, Epel also really looks up to Leona and approached him in Spelldrive Club about transferring. Leona agreed and took notice of Epel's admiration and if he puts a little more effort into practise afterwards, that's no one's business. (I think he's be like, "Goddammit, these kids keep looking up to me... I should at least give them something worth looking up to." Only the MC would know, and probably Ruggie would notice just having know Leona.) Also, Epel saw Leona's chaps and immediately wanted a pair. Leona took him out to get some and when they got back, Vil was horrified lmao.

I love Epel/Savanaclaw dynamic sm omg but onto my ocs... (Also, I really hope y'all read that with a southern accent, I think it's hilarious lol)

💋Calendula Dame💋

Third Year - (she/her) - Sapphic Aromantic

- She's twisted from Mother Gothel, who, can I just say, SLAYED in her movie ong. Though Disney really needs work on their representation, specifically the fact that her character is very Jewish-coded (I don't think she's canonically Jewish but please correct me if I'm wrong) but is portrayed in an anti-Semitic way, feeding into negative stereotypes. I'm not the most knowledgeable person to speak on this issue and I know it's been throughly discussed by others so please feel free to research it. I did have a friend who is Jewish help me make her character and I hope I did her justice!

- I made her Jewish, specifically Ashkenazi and conservative. I'm not quite sure yet how this would translate into Twisted Wonderland but we'll see.

- She's all about makeup products and she and Vil compare skincare routines in a sort of friendly competition.

- Another fun nod is she loves gardening. Namely flowers but occasionally crops and herbs. She's got her own little plot in the greenhouse and she and Epel discuss gardening tips together.

- She's also a nail artist and quite skilled at that. She has a small 'business' and is especially booked around school events.

Now for one some of y'all have wanted to see for a bit...

🦚Tupac Huamani🦚

Second Year - (he/him) Transmasc - Pan-Demiromantic

The one man I've made this whole time lmaooo.

- Tupac is my Yzma twist! His name is Incan, ironically meaning 'royal', as I figured out The Emperor's New Groove is inspired by Incan culture!

- He's the most flamboyant twink to ever walk the earth and I love him for that. That being said, he and Rocío are my token 'heteros'. They've been friends since first year and get along extremely well. He's got book smarts but literally no common sense. She has no common sense either and so they j st get into silly shenanigans together. I love them sm my little sillies.

- He's more into dramatic makeup and loves to do Rocío's because she's not into makeup and doesn't really know how to do it lol. He's also made her get a nice skincare routine which she follows diligently as she likes routines.

- Probably a part of the Boardgame Club, though I'm not sure how well he does. He probably just enjoys hanging out with the people and the banter rather than the games themselves, though I think he'd be very good at chess and other strategy games.

Up next is...

🐈‍⬛Chaisee Noi🐈‍⬛

First Year - (he/she/it) Genderfluid - Asexual Aromantic

- The first of a set of twins twisted from the Siamese twins in Lady and the Tramp (I think that's what they're in, it's been a hot sec lol). I made them mixed, Black and Thai as Siamese cats originate from Thailand.

- Onto Chaisee specifically, I think he's the 'black cat' personality out of the two of them. She's on the more reserved side and is more blunt and to the point than his sibling is. Also autistic and has particular issues with loud noise and food textures. Not a fan of physical contact and hates being touched without permission.

- He like to fluxuate between masc and fem styles a lot (with the fem pictured here) and enjoys suits for formal wear.

- While it's into fashion, he likes to be more of a rough sketch and designer than actually doing the sewing. Her designs are quite avant-garde and lean into lots of floral patterns.

- She and Nasira work together to come up with different floral arrangements, both for Chaisee's designs and for Nasira's dorm.

For the other twin...

🐈Churai Noi🐈

First Year - (they/them) Nonbinary - Pansexual

- Churai is the 'tabby' cat energy one. They're very affectionate and full of energy. They love to help out others and are constantly doing things with other people.

- A hands-on person, Churai loves sewing and is a part of the sewing club. They tend to be the primary person to work on their sibling's designs because of the level of detail needed.

- ADHD and has to be doing something at all times. Because of this, they have a TON of hobbies, ranging from scrap-booking to fishing to reading about random topics. Gets along incredibly well with Kalim and they love hanging out with him. Also a very touchy person, loves hugs and cuddles!

- Their style is more on the feminine side and they love making cute dresses to wear. Definitely takes a lot of inspiration from the gyaru and harujuku fashion scenes.

⚡Corentin Benoit⚡

First Year - (she/her) - Asexual Aromantic

Last of my Pomefiore characters and second of the triplets, Corentin Benoit!

- The technical oldest of the triplets and she holds that over their heads. She's was both happy and not to be in a different dorm than her younger siblings.

- Looks up to Hestia a lot and wants to be like her when she grows up (as if Hestia know what she's doing but yk).

- She's particularly interested in the poison aspect of Pomefiore and is keen to eventually become housewarden. As such, she's asked for Vil's help to learn as much as she can about making them.

I don't have a lot for her yet but god, this has taken so fcuking long to write omg. I hope y'all liked it! Ignihyde is next!~

[do-angels-dream-of-starry-seas]

I wonder if there is a conversation to be had about aspec autistic people, because as much as I believe me being autistic is the core of my being, I think me being aspec and autistic are pretty much intertwined into one

Someone flirts with me - is it cause I can't recognize what they're doing, or cause I don't care for it?

I like this celebrity cause of their personality - is it cause I find them attractive, or because my more black and white worldview?

And just in general, as someone who is considered outside of normal society, of-fucking-course I would relate to the deconstruction of nuclear families and amatonormativity. But because the lines are so blurred because of my neurodivergency, I find the idea of me being asexual and autistic comforting - one exists with the other, and that makes me who I am

[kailoraurelius]

Bechloe / Staubrey Headcanons?

Who is the nightowl, who wakes up at the crack of dawn?

Who is the better driver (according to them AND their (un)lucky passengers?

Their coffee orders?

Their one guilty pleasure they'd not even tell their s.o. about (they tots know but pretend not to :D)

When did they figure out they are part of the LGBTQ mafia?

How/when did they come out (either their families or their Bella family?)

Who's the big spoon, who the small spoon (and no, Beca, knife isn't an option)

Their secret-not-so-secret celebrity crushes?

Okay if I have more ideas I'll ask those too xD

Oh I love these, okay.

Who is the night owl, who wakes up at the crack of dawn?

Bechloe: I think this is pretty obvious from All I Ask of You lmfao but Beca is the nightowl. She WILL start reading or mixing in her studio and fully not realize she was supposed to go to bed until she goes to get a drink and sees it's dawn. Chloe can stay up late, but she generally wakes up early and is immediately ready for the day. Getting Beca out of bed is like velcro.

Staubrey: Aubrey is up at dawn with the trumpets, baby. She has things to doTM and no time to waste. Stacie prefers to sleep in, but she can get up if she has to. But staying up late? Stacie's bread and butter.

Who is the better driver according to them and their (un)lucky passengers?

Bechloe: Chloe drives like a grandma. Not my grandma, she's insane. But A grandma. She's a good driver in that sense. But they would both say Beca is the better driver because she's safe and skilled.

Staubrey: you would think Aubrey. But it's Stacie. Aubrey drives tiny cars like she thinks she's in a big truck and rules the road. Stacie is a good enough driver, though she will occasionally take a detour for no reason.

Their coffee orders?

Bechloe: Beca, black but with one scoop of sugar. Chloe, it's mocha all day, babes.

Staubrey: Stacie is down for whatever are long as it has some caramel in it and too much caffeine. Aubrey, double espresso shot.

Their one guilty pleasure they'd not even tell their s.o about?

Bechloe: Chloe fucking loves those like, Scottish romance novels you find on the $1-$3 rack at dollar stores. Not even for the sex scenes like most normal people. Those just make her laugh so she usually skips them. Everybody knows. They let her think they don't.

Beca hates movies in general. Except one. Which she loves and would never, ever admit to her friends because they would NEVER shut up about it. Spice World. She hates movies because they're so predictable and this one is NOT. She loves the music and how absolutely ridiculous the whole thing is. Stacie, who forced her to watch it the first time, knows and they have a standing date to rewatch it annually.

Staubrey: Aubrey loves rubber ducks. Adores them. Wants all the novelty ones. But it's such a ridiculous, childish like (she thinks) that she never admits it. Stacie notices when they pass a claw machine in the mall that's full of them and Aubrey does a full double take and looks so gleefully excited for a moment before she can control herself. After that, Stacie starts pretending SHE loves them and brings them home in droves. Aubrey loves her so much.

Stacie has many pleasures, none of them guilty.

When did they figure out they were part of the LGBTQ?

Bechloe: Chloe took a little while to realize. Not because she wasn't sure of what she liked. She just didn't realize not liking someone because of their gender was an option. And then she was like, "oh that's a thing? Lol. I thought everyone just liked whoever".

Beca was a child when she watched Xena Warrior Princess and fell in love with Gabrielle. She knew then. Her mother has known nearly as long as she has.

Staubrey: Aubrey didn't realize until college. She was always like, "men suck but it's cool. yeah, I could see women being attractive, sure. Not for me though haha" and then Stacie walked into her life and Aubrey was like, "men who?"

Stacie came out the womb winking at the nurses. She has never once thought she was anything but Down to Clown with any and all genders.

How/when did they come out to family or Bellas?

Bechloe: Beca's mom knew when Beca knew. It was unspoken forever. Then, in high school, Beca was like, "oh lol I guess I'm supposed to do this. I'm gay?" And her mom was like, "oh right, WOW I'M SHOCKED. Anyways, pass the salt."

Chloe told her parents in middle school and her mom very calmly assured her they knew and loved her. Her dad cried because she'd trusted them with coming out.

Staubrey: Aubrey informed her father over the phone in a very military briefing style. "Yes sir, all my classes are going well. I am researching more extracurriculars currently and will report what I choose. I'm dating a woman and relieved top marks on my last psych test. Yes sir, that's what I said."

Stacie’s mom is also bisexual and so Stacie never actually came out. It was just a known fact between the two of them.

The Bellas knew from the beginning about all but Aubrey. But they very quickly figured that out. There was never a coming out thing between them. They simply were like, "oh we're dating now" and the girls went, "finally".

Who's the big spoon, who's the small spoon lol?

Bechloe: Beca totes would have chosen knife. But she's the big spoon. She will concede the position occasionally, but mainly big spoon. But she tucks her face down into Chloe's shoulder in the most adorable way. Chloe is happy to be any kind of spoon at any moment.

Staubrey: Stacie big spoon because Aubrey needs to be held. And because she sleeps like an octopus.

Their celebrity crushes!

Bechloe: Chloe: Kim Taehyung. Kate Hudson specifically in How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. D.B. Woodside. Cassadee Pope (total coincidence she looks a lot like Beca, what you mean?) Dylan O'Brien.

Beca: Renee O'Connor. Isla Fisher. Alexander Rybak. Emily Blunt. Erin Kellyman. Blake Lively. Chris Martin.

Staubrey: Aubrey: Gloria Estefan. Celine Dion. Stevie Knicks. Morgan Freeman. Tom Selleck. Charlize Theron.

Stacie: I do not have the time to list them all so I'll just give you what I think are her top three: Sandra Bullock. Gabrielle Union. Ryan Reynolds.

Lol thanks for all these!! That was fun and took my brain to some wild places lmfao. Anytime!