#what the fuck are people even shorter than me buying

[armenelols]

By the way. Buying jeans in stores is impossible if you are shorter than average and they are gonna drag behind you like a veil. Have fun tripping on them (It's me. I am short)

[aperrywilliams]

That Wasn't Fake (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Request: Can you write a Spencer fic where the reader is kind of quiet and shy when she begins working at the BAU, and Spencer has a crush on her, and then they have a case, and she has to like to seduce the unsub lowkey and everyone kind of like...how is she going to do this shes not very outgoing but when she does shes really good at it, and everyone is surprised and impressed.

Summary:  You're shy and reserved. Spencer has a crush on you, and unbeknown to him, you have a crush on him. Maybe the cat can get out of the bag when you have to step aside of your comfort zone to catch an elusive unsub.

Word Count: 4.2k (no self control here)

Warnings: Words like 'fuck' and 'bitch'. A rant about self-doubt. Typical CM stuff: unsubs, killings, etc.

A/N: Another request I loved! It should have been a little shorter, but I'm having a hard time getting to the point these days. Please keep sending requests!

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Spencer knows it is inappropriate, but he can't help it. You're coworkers, and that itself sets a boundary, so he shouldn't be thinking of trespassing.

But the crush he has on you seems to grow every day.

He doesn't know if it is your beautiful smile, the kindness you show in everything you do, or the enthusiasm you put into every task you are committed to. Since the moment he saw you pass the bullpen glass doors, Spencer knew he was damned.

From that moment, Spencer knew he wanted to know you and learn everything about you. About what you liked, what you hated, and what your fears and dreams were. Everything.

But not much after that revelation in his mind, he understood it wasn't going to be easy to get to you.

You were extremely shy and reserved.

In fact, your first interaction - when Emily introduced you both - consisted of a wave of your hand and a timid 'nice to meet you.'

He thought as time went by, you would loosen and become less bashful and quiet. And in part, he was right. As the months passed, you began to feel more comfortable within the team. You laughed at Luke's jokes, you commented on Rossi's stories, and you could even - when the stars aligned - crack a joke yourself to Tara or Matt.

But beyond that, no one knew much about your life outside of the BAU, unlike JJ, who always talks about her kids and her husband, or Matt, who talks about his kids, too. Or Tara, who recounts her failed dates. Or the same Luke who always shows photos of Roxy.

You, on the other hand, seemed to be an enigma. But Spencer Reid loved decoding enigmas.

At first, he turned his interest in you out of mere scientific curiosity. However, internally, he knew it wasn't just that.

It started with small random questions about the times you worked together: Is this coffee okay? What was the last book you read? Do you think we should buy some donuts for the team?

If you were honest, it picked your interest why, from all people, Dr. Spencer Reid was so adamant in making conversation with you.

From what you knew and from what the team said, Spencer was not a person very interested in things other than work or books. But suddenly, out of nowhere, he asked you what the last movie you saw was or something like that.

You always answered his questions; however, you would have liked to be much more talkative and engage in longer conversations, but your nature stopped you.

'What if I don't have anything more interesting for him to say?'

'Does he just talk to me because he feels sorry for me?'

And that was the big issue: you have never had problems with the way you live your life. You're pretty satisfied with what you do in your job and out of it, too. But you have always thought you are too 'simple' to entertain people's interest.

And to be honest, being surrounded by people with so much experience and big things happening in their lives still intimidates you a bit. So, you usually refrain from talking too much about yourself or anything for that matter.

But with Spencer, things are a bit different. He's always checking on you but respects your boundaries. He has learned that sometimes you just don't want to talk, and he doesn't push.

Despite his interest beyond the professional, Spencer would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Being able to share time with you will have to be enough for him.

In a way, he has become your protector. He is your backup during interrogations or in situations where you can feel awkward, like the times when some police officers tried to flirt with you and got too close. Sure, you know how to turn them down, but sometimes guys don't get the memo and keep pushing. You're too shy to yell or be aggressive about it.

The team also understands the way you are, and they know it does not make you any less professional. However, they have always been careful not to take you too much out of your comfort zone.

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A whole two weeks and five murders later, the team is stuck trying to catch an unsub who has preferences for killing women after club nights. The profile says he is not interested in just any woman but in those between 25-30 years old who like to flirt with several men in the clubs. But it is not just any type of flirting; it is the type that is initiated and dominated by them. In short, he likes to kill women who are the opposite of submissive. He sees them as predators on a hunting ground.

Another finding in victimology is that the women he kills, in addition to having a specific age range, have very similar physical characteristics. And similar to you.

All his victims have your build, eye color, hair color, and height. It gets to be creepy to a certain point. And it's something difficult to ignore.

Bouncing information and possible strategies, the team agrees they need to be proactive to get him to show up before another killing happens.

"Okay, what options do we have?" Emily asks.

"The witnesses haven't gotten us anywhere," Luke complains.

"Although we've narrowed down his hunting grounds," Rossi shrugs.

"Yeah, we know the clubs where he likes to hunt," JJ backs Rossi.

"But although the profile, we have yet to learn about what to look for there. I mean, we know what the unsub wants, but not how he looks like." This time, it's Tara who speaks.

You've rarely seen Emily bite her tongue when she wants to say something, but it's clear that she has something on her mind, and she doesn't know how to put it, or maybe the problem is something else. You look at her out of the corner of your eye, and she looks back at you; what do those eyes say? They look like they're even apologetic.

It's a fraction of the time before she comes back to behave like herself.

"We need to lurk him. It's the only way," she says. And everyone's eyes - yours included - are on her immediately.

"Lurk him?" Matt repeats.

"Yes. And all we know who should be the one going undercover to do that," Emily adds, looking at you this time.

That's it—the elephant in the room.

Of course, you're the ideal candidate. Well, you're perfect in the physical aspect because if we talk about the victim's personality and yours...

There's silence in the room, and you can feel like the team's eyes are all on you.

Do they expect you to say no? To refuse? From your perspective, it's not a question; it's more like the option you all have to catch the guy.

"It's true (Y/N) would be the closest to the unsub type, but there are a lot of things to take into account," Matt says. And you know perfectly well what's behind his words, even if he doesn't say it directly.

And that's okay; it's perfectly plausible they have their doubts. It is not enough to look like the victims for the operation to work.

But if there is one thing you are sure of, it's that you will always give your all to your job, even if that means becoming a completely different person.

"I can do it," you mumbled so quietly that if the AC weren't in the lower setting, people wouldn't have heard you.

"But (Y/N), you know about this guy. It's dangerous," Matt points, a frown on his face.

"Not to mention he likes rough interactions," Luke adds.

"You don't have to do it if you feel uncomfortable." This time, it is JJ who voices her opinion. And you know, that's the closest reason to the team's main concern.

And the fact you can blow up the entire plan.

Spencer stays in silence. Internally he's freaking out thinking of you having to lurk on the unsub, but he knows you are a professional. And he feels a kind of deja vu.

When he was younger, the team would have said the same about him doing something like that. Spencer knows what it's like when people baby you, making you feel insecure. Sure, he hasn't had to worry about that anymore. Spencer is almost forty, and no one would dare to tell him he can't do something. Not after all the things he has been through.

"JJ is right, Bella. You don't have to do it. We can think of another way," Rossi backs JJ.

That's when Spencer notices the slight frown on your face. It's invisible to everyone but him. He knows it's there.

You stay collected, even when everyone on the team has something to say about how bad the idea of you going undercover to lurk the unsub is.

Emily is who stops everyone's rant.

"Guys, hey. If (Y/N) is telling us she can do it, we're going to do it. Of course, we'll be there to back up her and catch this unsub."

And this is how the discussion is settled.

Emily sends everyone out with a task to prepare for the night. Today is Friday, and the unsub will surely be stalking some new victim. The chances are high.

When it's just you and Spencer in the room, he still looks at you in silence.

"Do you also think I'll not be able to pull off this mission and I'm going to ruin everything?"

You downcast your gaze, exhaling deeply.

"No. I don't think that," Spencer clarifies, and you raise your gaze to meet his eyes. "You are more than capable, (Y/N). The team is worried because you'll be out of your comfort zone in a dangerous situation."

"The team? Not you?" You narrow your eyes to him.

You try not to sound accusatory, but if you're as scared as everyone, you also are fed up with the other's doubts.

Spencer closes the distance between you both but doesn't invade your personal space.

"Of course, I'm worried too! I don't want anything bad to happen to you. But I trust you and your judgment."

Your heart does flip-flops, and you're not sure if it's because Spencer is worried or because, despite that, he trusts you—or both.

"You do?" You ask, not so convinced.

Spencer nods and smiles at you.

"And we'll be there when you catch the guy."

If that is the reassurance you need, you don't mention it. Instead, you grin at Spencer as a promise you'll do your job just how you are supposed to.

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You insist on getting ready in your hotel room. The only assistant you ask for is Emily. She was the one who trusted you first in this, so you'll take every piece of advice she can give you before this night starts.

Everyone has a role in the plan.

Rossi will be the chauffeur who will drive you to the club.

Luke and Spencer would be in the club, mingling with the patrons. JJ, Matt, and Emily would be in the van monitoring the whole situation with cameras and earpieces. Rossi would keep his facade as a driver so he could be at one of the entrances. Tara would be at the club, too, eyeing nothing suspicious going on in the bar because there is a chance the unsub is getting help from the bartender.

When you are in front of the mirror applying the last touch of makeup, Emily is looking at you with a stare you can't decipher.

"What?" you ask, and Emily chuckles.

"Please, don't take this in a bad way, but I never thought I would live the day of seeing you using clothing like this. And Jesus, you look so hot!"

Your cheeks redens.

"It's a little bit odd coming from my boss, don't you think?" you muse, smoothing the fabric of your dress.

"Point taken," Emily raises her hands in defense. "Although I know someone who is going to run out of breath after seeing you."

You let out a scoff. It's not a surprise for you. The BAU girls - boss included - have been trying to set you up with Spencer since forever. You don't entertain the idea only because you don't think it's possible and not because you don't like the concept.

"Come on, don't say that. You are not helping to my nerves."

"Sorry, I'll shut up. We should go, though," Emily says, checking her watch.

One of the SUVs drives you to the van parking point. You needed to review the operation details.

At the back of the van - or commander point - JJ, Luke, Tara, Rossi, Matt, and Spencer see you come up with Emily.

For the best US profilers, they're not doing a good job hiding that they are gawking at you. Surely, no one imagined seeing you in such a revealing outfit. Outfit that, without a doubt, suits you extremely well, highlighting all your body attributes.

Spencer feels like he died and was resurrected after seeing you.

"Okay, guys, we need to check the details again," Emily announces.

The plan is in motion, and everyone is in position.

As expected, you arrive with Rossi at the club, who opens the door for you and helps you descend from the car. Rossi gives you a reassuring smile before letting you go.

Like a switch, you are no longer the shy SSA (Y/L/N). Now you are the woman who is going to take what she wants and attract the unsub attention doing that.

Your walk is determined, and your eyes send out flames of confidence to those who look at you. The music is very loud, something that would usually bother you, but not now. This needs to feel like your environment. That's how you like it, you tell yourself.

Almost instantly, you start to attract the looks of men who are eager for a woman like you.

You exude determination, and you don't go unnoticed.

Walking into the club, you make brief eye contact with Luke, who is on the dance floor. You see Spencer perched in a booth, nursing a beer.

At the same time, Tara is stationed at the bar.

"Remember (Y/N); the unsub expects the woman to approach men. The flirt needs to come from you," Emily reminds you by the earpiece hidden in one of the earrings you're wearing.

"Show time," you mumble to yourself.

You walk seductively to the dance floor, where a young man is dancing with a blonde. You approach and whisper something in his ear. That makes the boy completely lose interest in the blonde and start dancing with you. You smile and cling to the man's body, who wastes no time and takes your hips as if they were his possessions.

That dance certainly has nothing innocent about it. You continue whispering things in the boy's ear, and he looks more and more excited. Once you consider it a reasonable amount of time to have attracted attention, you leave the boy alone and head to the bar. Just a few meters away from Tara, a suspicious man is staring at you. You see him out of the corner of your eye as you order a drink. When the bartender passes it to you, you make subtle eye contact with Tara, who nods, indicating that the drink is clean.

You look next to you and see another man not so subtly looking at you. You know the unsub's profile, and you can't be intimidated or dominated by another man. You are the one who calls the shots. Otherwise, this will not work.

Before the man makes his attempt to seduce you, you turn to him, and with a penetrating look and disdainful voice, you stop him.

"Sorry, honey. Don't waste your time. You're not my type," and with that, you leave to move to the opposite side of the club. The guy huffs, and you're almost sure hearing him call you 'bitch' under his breath.

JJ, who's following the cameras inside the club, sees someone who looks suspect.

"Hey, this guy has been peeking at (Y/N) the entire time, and look, he clenched his fists when (Y/N) turned down that guy at the bar."

Emily confirms JJ's observation before giving you the next instructions.

"(Y/N), you're doing great. We have a possible target. So we need to raise the bet."

You know exactly what Emily means. You both had talked about the strategy to follow, having more details about what you should do than the rest of the team.

Matt and JJ look confused at each other but say nothing.

Your next step is to find another dude to seduce before delivering the coup de grace.

Luke and Spencer keep an eye on you. And while Luke is pleasantly surprised by your audacity, Spencer can't help but feel his stomach tighten. He tells himself it's because he is afraid something bad could happen to you, but inside of him, it's that and the fact of seeing you flirt with other men.

Just like you did with the guy on the dance floor, you attract the attention of another man; this time, you take his hand and pull him to the dance floor.

JJ and Matt's jaws drop to the floor. If Tara, Luke, and Spencer could do the same without giving themselves away, they would have done it, too.

As if it were your second nature, you laugh and move to the music. The man seems to enjoy the moment so much that he takes a bold step by leaning in to kiss you. You let him get closer until his lips are almost on yours. But before touching each other, you pull back with a malicious smile.

"Naughty boy. I'm who says if you can kiss or no," you pout, faking disappointment. Dizzed, the guy cocks his head and sees you walk away.

Matt chirps now. "It's him. Look boss," he tells Prentiss, pointing to the same guy JJ saw before.

There is no longer any doubt that it is him. Now you just have to catch him red-handed.

"(Y/N), we got him. It's time for the last play," Emily tells you.

With Emily's instruction, you go to the bar for another drink before heading over to where Spencer is sitting.

He tries to play it off, but he has no idea why you're approaching him.

"Is this seat taken, handsome?" You ask, with your drink in hand.

"N- no. Please," Spencer gestures to the booth on his front, but you opt to perch to his side. Spencer thinks he never has been this close to you. He looks at your eyes, and it's like you are a totally different person. It's a little bit contradictory for him, to be honest. He already likes you just as you are, but this version of you? It's driving him insane.

Some resemblance of your true self looks with a kind of curiosity the nervousness on Spencer. You don't think much about it; you assume he's playing the nervous guy who is baffled by you.

The thing is, Spencer isn't playing. He's definitely baffled by you.

"Are you okay?" You ask him, masking your question with a seductive smile.

"Yeah. Are - are you?" Spencer stutters a bit—something that is perfect for the plan but embarrassing for him.

You get closer to him to speak in his ear.

"This was Emily's idea," you tell him before kissing his ear and gently biting his lobe.

Spencer's breath hitches in his throat, and he thinks he's going to pass out any second. You're not doing it better: your heart is also pumping hard from the adrenaline. Of course, you had imagined something like that with Spencer, but only in your erotic dreams. You wouldn't dare do this on any given day.

You keep teasing Spencer, who, despite the nervousness, tries to play along. If this is the closest he will ever have you, he wants to engrave this in his memory.

"Just a little push, (Y/N). We almost have him," Emily instructs by the earpiece.

You swallow as subtly as possible as you wrap your arm around Spencer's neck, pulling him closer to you.

It's only a second between that action and the fact that you're kissing Spencer like it's your last meal.

Spencer doesn't know how to respond, and you were counting on that; it was enough time for the unsub to notice that you were the one who chose her last prey.

When Spencer is about to reciprocate the kiss, you murmur a 'sorry' into his lips and quickly pull away, giving him a disdainful look—which you hope he understands is fake—before getting up and walking toward the back exit door.

As expected, the unsub follows you towards the back door, and while your back is turned, he believes he has the advantage to attack you. What he doesn't know is that Matt and Luke are ready to lunge at him the moment he tries to touch you.

Everything that happens after is too fast.

The unsub is detained and taken to a patrol car while the team gathers around you, congratulating you on the successful operation. They all apologize to you for their previous apprehensions. You tell them that you understand and that there is no need to apologize. And it's like the switch has been flipped again since you came out of the femme fatale role.

But something is wrong. Spencer is not in the group. You see him a little further away, near the exit door of the club. Emily notices the looks between you both, and she sends the team on different tasks to close the case, leaving you and Spencer there.

There's something in his eyes that you can't decipher. You think it's resentment for using him without warning him what you were going to do.

You shyly approach him.

"It's me again," you tell him, pulling a face. You don't know what to say to make the situation better. Spencer nods.

"Yeah. You did it great, by the way," he compliments you. But it doesn't feel good like Spencer's compliments usually do.

"Look, about the kiss back there-" you start. He needs an explanation as a bare minimum.

"I know. It was fake," Spencer cuts you off.

Those words shouldn't hurt you as they do now. But isn't that the most reasonable thing to believe? The you in the club weren't you, so all you did inside was pretend.

Everything except that kiss.

If it's true you couldn't enjoy it the way you would have liked, you will never forget his lips on yours.

A tense silence takes over the moment. This is not okay.

You can't afford to lie to one of the most important people in your life, even if telling the truth takes you out of your comfort zone.

What the hell! Tonight has already been a total of 180 from a usual day for you.

"It wasn't," you mumble, and you see his eyes flicking to yours in a second.

"What?" Spencer asks, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Everything was fake, but not the kiss," you say with a stadied voice this time.

Spencer's heart races again. If you say you didn't fake it, then what he felt on your part at that moment was real?

"It wasn't fake?" He asks for clarification. You nod.

A smirk forms on Spencer's lips, seeing your cheeks redden.

There you are. The girl he had fallen for in the past two years.

"Well, you know that I am a man of science, right?" he tells you, and you frown because you have no idea where this is going.

"I know," you say with some hesitation.

"And as a man of science, I need evidence of things, you know?"

Now, you are the one who smirks at him.

"Evidence, huh?"

"Yep," he says, emphasizing the 'p' and swaying his body on his feet. You hum.

"I believe I can provide the necessary evidence if you need them," you concede, and Spencer's eyes sparkle with excitement.

Now, he is the one who reaches out and cups your cheeks. Your breathing quickens, but that doesn't stop you from standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips with his.

This time, there is no unsub, no curious eyes are looking at you, there is no rush, there is no femme fatale role, and above all, this is not fake; it's as real as the fact that your heart beats for him, and his for you.

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers 

[cvnt4him]

Think'n about being tenyas chubby lil girlfriend!!

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• Tenya adores you so, he would kiss and blow on your tummy making you feel oh, so loved!!

• He loves how much shorter than him you are and uses that to his advantage.

• Everyone sees tenya as some up tight guy who can't get laid but boy did this big dicked loser know how to fuck.

• He loves picking you up and slamming you on the bed, especially when he's angry with you.

• Bending you over in a mating press when you're feeling insecure, telling you how beautiful you are and how he loves you so.

• He loves spoiling you with his riches I feel. He just loves buying you your favorite food!

• It's not like he's trying to keep you plump or anything, especially since you had lost a lot of weight, he just wants you to be happy and he'd do anything for you!

• when you get into a fight, he's always first to apologize, he hates fighting, he hates arguing, he and hates being apart from you more than he hates being wrong, he'd do anything in his power to keep you close.

• I feel like a lot of people think tenya would be so nervous and jittering during his first time but I feel he'd actually, yeah he nervous, but he'd know what he's doing.

• like ofc it's possible, but there's no way this tall ass, fine ass, blue eyed god doesn't get horny from time to time, he def watches porn n DEF wacks his stack.

• I feel like he'd be into little things like holding you close, and 'making love' to you rather than 'fucking' you.

• he loves getting compliments about his eyes, he might have shit vision but boy are those things beautiful.

• he doesn't let people talk bad about you when you're around, not that he lets them when you're not but he knows how sensitive you are so if he's alone and someone says something about you or your body, he'll tell them to fuck off, but if you're around you can't convince me he won't get down n dirty behind your ass bro

• speaking of he's an everything guy, like legit, he's the kind of guy that can't say what he loves, however I feel he's more appealed to lips, than ass or thighs or boobs n shit like that, there's something so sexy about your lovely glossed lips.

• or when you have lipstick on and you want to suck his dick, the stains that get left on his girth as you deep throat his long veiny cock, he loves for it.

• he loves when you have little tears prickling from the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill as you gag around his cock, spit forming at the corner of your red tinted lips, your lipstick smudged all over you face.

• he's not a heavily sexual person, no but he does love giving you what you need, even if that's a good ol' dicking down.

• he just loves you so much, laying on your arms, your tummy, your thighs, boobs, ass, you name it he loves it, he wants to spoil you so much, he wanst to assure to you that you'll never have to lift a finger while hes here.

• he wants to be a hero, sure, but why be everyone's hero if he can't be yours?

Think'n bout ten ten🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

..............................................

AN; he's such a sweetie bro, you can't tell me old women don't just love how formal and respectful he is bro????? I'm officially INLOVE W him bro, need me a lil geek in my life. I wanna fucking destroy him. Might have to make a corruption fic ab tearing this little handsome dork apart.

Oh n he don't call you no goofy shi like 'my little star' or wtf ever yagami yato got y'all thinking 💀

[r7leee]

beggars can be choosers | r.h.

merry christmas ig @liseytopia (jk love you babe)

pairing: rodrick heffley x fem!reader

summary: your boyfriend’s parents are out, yet again, for the weekend. rodrick’s idea of fun is sneaking into a concert, but that’s easier said than done

warnings: cursing, greg being a walking punching bag (again), nothing else rlly!!

word count: 1,401, should take about 11 minutes to read

THE HEFFLEYS WERE probably one of the most dysfunctional families you’d ever seen. the spoiled youngest brother, narcissistic middle brother, lazy (but ever so charming) oldest brother, the clueless mom, and the tired dad. and just to put the cherry on the cake, how the parents did nothing to fix it and actually left so often.

this weekend was an example. susan and frank were going to be gone for a weekend outing to the beach. but, they had no intention to bring their two oldest sons with them.

of course, you didn’t mind. not in the slightest. it just gave you more time to run around and cause trouble with rodrick. and without them knowing!

that’s exactly what was going to happen. to prepare, you drove to the edge of the heffley’s street about fifteen minutes before their parents would leave. you had all your essentials: a change of clothes, pajamas, makeup.

then you sat and watched, waiting for their car to pull out of the driveway. sure enough, a little while later, you saw rodrick’s parents and brother get in their car and drive off. perfect.

the second they were out of eyesight, you pulled your car into the parking lot, replacing theirs, and practically sprinted to the front steps.

you didn’t even knock, rodrick already knowing you’d be coming. without a moment to spare, he flung the front door open, beckoning you to come inside.

you smiled up at him as you walked in and shut the door behind you. even in your heels, you were still a notch shorter than him. “hi,” you greeted, your gleaming eyes looking into rodrick’s face.

“hi, babe.” he leaned down, pressing a chaste and fast kiss on your lips. you heard a gagging sound from the other side of the room.

turning your head, you saw rodrick’s brother, greg, in the living room. “why are you still here, shit for brains?” rodrick exclaimed.

“i was…getting water-” greg tried to explain before being cut off.

“you know what, i don’t wanna hear it.” he made a “go away” motion with his hand. “shoo.” greg just sighed and went upstairs. rodrick didn’t move until he heard the sound of his bedroom door closing.

he turned back to you, placing his hands on your waist. “you ready for the best weekend of your life?”

“you know me.”

the first half of the day was spent out and about. running around the plainview mall, going into hot topic, trying on clothes that you didn’t buy. going into record stores, browsing the selections. renting a movie from blockbuster. taking cute photos in the photobooth (you kissing his cheek, of course.) getting kicked out of yankee candle after rodrick clumsy dropped a candle (by doing a stupid, stupid dance then knocking it over with his elbow.)

after a few hours there, you knew you couldn’t call if there. so, taking a step further, you drove into the big city. just to look.

the places were all too fancy and expensive and the people too sophisticated, but it was almost comforting. you were so out of place but it was so right.

to be honest, rodrick didn’t entirely want to drive out here for no personal gain. but he knew you. and he would do almost anything to see that look in your eyes.

after a quick drive and a stop at the ocean, you headed back. the day alone was nice. you couldn’t wish for anything more as you two drove back to the heffley house.

on the way home, you planned out the rest of the day; go home, stay up late watching movies (and maybe making out), go to sleep late at night, then fuck off the next day.

suddenly, rodrick passed a small concert venue. on the sign read “bowling for soup: tonight.” you nudged rodrick in the shoulder. “hey. did you know these guys were coming?”

you pointed to the sign on your right, rodrick reading it. his eyes widened. “no. holy shit, we should go.”

you laughed and shook your head. “rodrick, i know you don’t have money for tickets.” his smile dropped, but quickly returned as he thought about something.

“who said we needed money?”

THE SECOND YOU opened the front door, rodrick was trotting up the stairs with an almost fearful demeanor. “greeeeeg!” he called out, shoes pounding up the stairs.

you watched him with a confused but amused look on your face. you followed in his footsteps, watching as he slammed his younger brother’s door open. greg, who was reading a comic book, looked over at him. “what do you want?”

rodrick walked slowly, then sat next to him on the bed. “how would you like to make your dear old brother and his girlfriend happy?” greg looked at him and replied sarcastically, “i’m good, thanks.”

rodrick let out a fake laugh before going serious. “well, it’s either that, or i call up holly hills right now and tell her you hate her stupid. guts.”

you knew there was no way that was possible; no way he had her number. but you knew for a fact that greg was gullible. and that you had a free ticket to a concert.

only fifteen minutes later, greg was in the back of the van, trying his hardest to not slam against the wall. you felt a little bad for the kid. a little being the key word.

the ride consisted of rodrick blasting some band you didn’t know while his hand was on your thigh. you knew greg was gagging in the back. “this show. babe…it’s gonna be amazing. it’s gonna be radical.”

you snorted. “radical?”

“ya. radical,” he repeated, confidence in his tone.

after taking the long drive to the city, rodrick parked somewhat near the venue. he unbuckled the seatbelt and turned to greg. “here’s the plan, squirt. you’re gonna go in there, distract those employees, then you’re gonna wait in the van as we get in. got it?”

it was clear there was some fear in greg’s eyes, but he knew there was no choice. so, he nodded. “good.”

rodrick got out of the van, opening the side door for greg to get out as you got out as well. rodrick leaned against the side of the van, gripping your waist as greg walked in.

after a minute, you two walked in. inside the venue was a couple lines leading to the box office, then people inspecting tickets near it. greg was pushing to the front of the office. you sat back and watched as he tried to get inside without a ticket. “you ever think you’re too mean on him?”

he shrugged and wrapped an arm around your waist. “it builds character.” greg had started to push past and try to run in, the employees running after him. that was your cue.

immediately, you pushed past people, trying to get to the front. you could see the employees dealing with greg as you made it to the front. quickly, rodrick took your hand and jolted to the nearest bathroom.

you two laughed as you went into the men’s room and into the handicapped stall. you tried to suppress your laughs. “rodrick!”

“i told you it’d work, did it not?”

after a couple minutes of laying low, you went to general admission section. rodrick had plenty experience with this. taking your hand, he pushed past people, trying to get as close as possible. only the best for you.

when you stopped, it was only a few rows from the front. you’d never been this close to the stage for any concert (which you’d only been to a couple.) it felt surreal to you and rodrick could tell. he smiled at you. “shocked?”

all you could do was smile and nod. he chuckled. “you’re cute.”

it only took a little while for the show to start. you didn’t know the band that well and nor did rodrick but that didn’t matter. you two danced and sang to the songs you did know, joining the energy with the crowd. you felt free.

the concert went by, and after, all the people started to file out. rodrick let out a sigh, his body sweaty. “you good?” he asked.

“more than good,” you confirmed. he smiled and kissed your forehead.

“come on, let’s get home. see if greg’s still in one piece.”

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Angel Dust with Violet Evergarden!reader platonic fluff scenario

Warnings: spoilers up to episode 4, possible triggers. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please leave now and read something much more pleasant.

For everyone else, welcome to this small piece of fluffy goodness! You guys might know me from my other blog, @forbidden-sunlight . You have sent me your ideas for future Violet Evergarden!reader scenarios for Hazbin Hotel, and here is one of them! :)

Sit back, relax, and let us dive into a chaotic afterlife, where even a bit of reprieve from dishonesty and hypocrisy isn’t possible…until now.

Angel Dust's first impression of you is the following: a cute weirdo who dressed like a doll and didn’t smile much. What was even more tragic is that you actually believed there is a chance for sinners to be redeemed, and that the only to do that is complete Charlie’s half-assed rehabilitation program. You still do, even your progress hasn’t gotten you one step closer to Heaven’s pearly gates and the next Extermination is in six months. Five months actually, but who's counting?

That was around the time when he had to go back to work. He didn’t want to, but he knew if he didn’t…well, he didn’t want to think about it. Valentino is a psychopathic freak. He promised to make him, Angel, a big star in Hell’s entertainment industry, and instead fucked him over six ways from Sunday with false promises.

Long hours, shitty pay. No time to even take a nap in his dressing room because of course Big Daddy Val had his favorite toy’s schedule booked until he couldn't walk anymore and needed a stiff drink. When his afterlife seemed to take a nosedive for worse, and after Husk knocked some sense into him, he started finding letters under his door.

At first glance Angel could tell that they weren’t from his fans. No one’s gonna go out of their way and buy expensive paper to type it on, shove in an envelope, and put a wax seal on it just to praise him for his acting skills and share their wildest fantasies starring yours truly. No. This was….someone else.

He honestly didn't know how to describe the context of these letters because he had never received something like this from anyone who did not expect anything from him in PS or PPS. The sender would write either a short or long letter. The short letter was about half a page long; the sender would ask how he was feeling and ask him one question. What was his favorite food? What is the color he would never wear? The sender included a little about themselves too, as if to encourage him to respond. The longer ones started the same, with a greeting and almost the same stuff written in the shorter ones, but they shared how their day went with him, even the stupid, mundane shit they do every day as a part-time clerk at an antique shop and when they come home. The longer ones were at least two pages long. Some stuff made him roll his eyes, made him laugh…but it was the closing sentences, even as they vary from letter to letter, always jerked his heart in a way which made him both sad and happy at the same time.

I’m happy I’ve met you.

Thank you for being here.

Good night and have pleasant dreams.

You are stronger than you think, Angel.

I hope I can receive a letter from you someday.

You made a lot of progress today in Charlie’s exercises. I’m proud of you.

You’re doing great.

Angel might be a bit of a dummy….but he could tell right away who had been sending him the letters. The bit about Charlie’s exercises…there were only a few people attending that day. Vaggie, Sir Wet Noodles, and you. Vaggie wouldn’t write this kind of shit, and definitely not the wannabe overlord. You. You’ve helped him get through it with these letters and you never expected him to reply back. It’s as if you just wanted your words to reach him through Val’s sickly red smoke and hold his hand in your gloved one.

Naturally…the best way he can say thanks…for caring about him in your roundabout way…is to write a letter back. Maybe have a drink at Husk’s bar and talk about shitty coworkers or why Smiles never stops smiling? He’s not sure, but he’ll figure it out somehow. Sex isn’t the only thing he’s good at. And he’d like to get to know you a little more too.

Taglist

@angelltheninth

@tired-of-life-86

@nixie-writes

@frompeach

@riddle-simp

@likesugarandcyanide

@witch-of-the-writing-desk

@22carolina08

@angel-tsugikuni-kamukura

@justamegafan

@saltyfruitbat

@lanxianschoenheit

@trecllllllll

@vikkirosko

@imperfectbloodmoon

@theunknowntravel3r

@thatstonedwriter

@isuckatwritingsobenice

@chroniccorvus

@food-theorys-blog

@doc-tooth

[multific]

Modern Warfare Men as Sugar Daddies (Extra) - Preferences

Part 1

Warnings: Smut, Sugarbaby-Daddy relationship 

A/N: Since the previous post was very well-loved, I decided to write more details about the characters. Apologies if there are things which have been mentioned before. I also considered the vote and wrote this according to what people wanted to see the most. 

John Price

It was never about the money for John.

But now, he enjoyed every aspect of it.

Buying you everything you wanted, and in exchange, you would oh-so-nicely bend over his table without a question.

John is a very giving person but he does enjoy being taken care of. 

"I'll take care of you, Daddy." you would say with a sweet voice and John would be a goner.

He loves oral. Bot receiving and giving. 

But let's be fair, he is a giver after all.

He can spend hours between your legs and is not afraid to overstimulate his pretty little doll.

He likes to hear you plead and beg. 

But in the end, he would always give you exactly what you want.

And after sex, he would be a sweetheart. But let's be honest, he first needs his sleep. A little nap for Captain John Prince and then, he would be good.

He would be so hungry so no matter if you are as well or not, food would be a given. 

So be prepared for a nice order of any he craves at the moment.

You never had sushi naked before? Now you will. 

Johnny MacTavish

Let's be honest this man has a kilt.

And he fucked you many times while wearing said kilt. He would hike it up and then pound you.

The little devil doesn't even wear any underwear under his kilt.

Johnny likes you in pretty dresses. The shorter the better. Without anything under.

Just a dress. 

That's it.

Every restaurant you go to, you always feel people watching you.

"They are jealous, Bonnie." he would say. And you believe him.

Being with a handsome Daddy, wearing pretty dresses and jewellery, who wouldn't be jealous.

He likes to give you jewellery.

But his favourite is always that pear necklace he gives you every night.

Seeing you covered in his cum turns him on. It is a way to show that you are indeed his.

After the fact, showering is a must.

He would just kiss every inch of your skin while washing your entire body.

Kyle Garrick

Kyle likes to tease you in public. The thought of getting caught turns him on and you never object.

He likes to buy you things so he can rip them all off.

"I'll buy you something prettier. Let me eat that pussy now." he would always say.

And again, you don't object.

You couldn't even go to the movies without his finger soon finding your clit.

"Don't make a sound and I will give you a reward," he whispered into your ear.

You loved his games. 

And he loved to play with you.

Every outcome of his games was always so pleasurable. 

Giving you nice little rewards which could either be a night of long fucking or a new pair of shoes.

Kyle could be very kind even if he preferred to be a tease. He has his sweet moments when he just enjoys spending time with you. He would have such a sweet smile every time.

Simon Riley

Never call him Daddy. Ever!

Even IF he is your Sugar Daddy, calling him that would not work. Given how his father was with him, he banned you from calling him that after you did once.

You didn't ask why, the hurt in his eyes spoke louder than any word. So from then on, you called him Sugar or Simon. 

He would be fine with silly nicknames.

Just imagine the faces of people when you come running with a new bag to him asking him to buy it and you call him your little bunny.

Simon's favourite thing is when you tell him that he can do anything.

And you do mean anything.

So, for his upcoming birthday, your daddy asked you one gift.

Anal.

Without hesitation, you said yes.

Not like you can say no to him.

You weren't too surprised anyway. He always somehow managed to insert at least one of his fingers into your butt whenever he was fucking you, no matter the position or occasion.

But then, the next week his hyperfixation is your boobs. He wants nothing more than to fuck your beautiful boobs, no matter their size. 

After the fact, Simon would need a moment for himself, just like 2-3 minutes alone in the bathroom/kitchen to collect himself. But as the months pass, he would get more and more used to having you and he would stay in bed with you. He would pretend to sleep, he enjoys you cuddling to his side and he refuses to admit it.

König

After your little photos and videos you send him, he always sets his mind to punish you.

You deserve it, he always says. And he can be ruthless. Yet, he would never do something you don't like.

Like that one time when he was mad because you disturbed him during his debriefing, he arrived home and set his mind to fuck you senseless. 

And he did.

He fucked you first with his fingers, then a toy and finally, when you were so cock-dumb, he finally gave you his cock.

But before he did, he looked at your face, the tears and he stopped for a moment.

"Are you okay?" It was a simple question but it held many meanings. 

"Of course, Daddy."

"What's your safe word?"

"Diamond."

"Good girl."

To say that this man fucks is an understatement.

This man fucks and destroys furniture.

It got to the point where after your fifth bedframe, you two ended up with only a matress on the floor. 

The frame left marks on the wall, to the point where it needed a fresh coat of paint.

He was called King for a reason. And he is the King of your Pussy.

Logan Walker

He got used to you rather fast. To his brother's delight. 

Now the two often teased each other about you.

To your surprise, Logan is mostly normal in bed, nothing too freaky-deeky. 

Which did make you want to see the wild side of Mr Walker.

You want to know more, do more for and with him.

But you knew better than to ask his brother... that would be too weird.

You needed to find out yourself

And so, you pushed him to the edge. With what?

Jealousy.

Wearing a dress too short, looking at a man across the bar maybe for too long. 

And it did the trick.

Logan dragged you home, tied you to the bed and teased you for the entire night.

While he might not be freaky, he for sure likes to spend time with you.

You noticed he liked to just be in the same room.

Doesn't have to be sex.

But you promised to never make him jealous again. He made it clear, you were his and his alone.

He doesn't share. And the marks along your body were the proof of his claim over you.

Alejandro Vargas

Having him as a Sugar Daddy, you called him your Mexican Devil Daddy.

The one who whispers sweet things in Spanish into your ear while he does the most unpure things to your body.

He likes to have you in his arms at all times. 

Never ask him for a reason behind it.

He doesn't have to explain himself.

His hand is glued to your thigh as he drives.

Alejandro is not a huge fan of punishment but if you push his buttons, he wouldn't be nice.

He says he hates it when you whine but he actually loves it. He for sure has a thing for your brat side.

Keep telling him how much you missed him and he will give you anything you want.

"Chiquita, what would you like?"

"Dinner with you, Daddy."

"Hmm. At the place you like so much?"

"Yes."

"With the private balcony?"

"Yes."

"Do you plan on being naughty like the last time we where there? When you 'forgot' to wear your panties and I had to punish you right there and there?"

"I would never do that, Daddy. I am a good girl." 

He would laugh, you adore his laugh. 

But he would give you the world. 

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster@capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse   @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[sevsdollette]

Not So Sweet [Sevika x fem reader]

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49324864/chapters/137713357

content warning: trigger warning for violence against the reader. if mean men in bars freak you out, read with caution. other than that, alcohol, gambling, smoking, and smut (obviously). reader eats sevika out. fingering. sorry if you just want it to be sevika doing shit to the reader, but yk the woman has needs as well.

summary: You go out with Sevika as her gambling date. It’s a calm night at the Last Drop where everything should be fun and easy. But your beauty doesn’t just attract Sevika.

chapters:

1. Relaxing Night

2. A Long Night at Work

3. A Gamble of A Night

note: tell me why every chapter title has the word night in it. i’m back @-@. so yeah it’s been a minute. hope no one is too mad at me. this one maybe a bit shorter than the others? not entirely sure. also i know this ends with like a cliff hanger, but i promise the next chapter will leave no holes in the time line. you gays will get what you want. sorry if there’s spelling mistakes i wrote most of this on my phone. it’s not like i’m an AP english student or anything (i am :/) also sorry for the format being a bit different. tumblr is pissing me the fuck off right now. i don’t care to fix the spacing between the paragraphs. i’m tired.

————————————18+————————————

The glow of the Last Drops neon sign felt a bit more familiar than before. This time, more than a drink was waiting for you inside.

It was a clear, hot night with busy streets and crowded alleys, and you were wearing a black catsuit with long sleeves and shorts that hardly covered your ass. The zipper down the front was pulled so low the clothes were practically falling off of you.

This time, when you walked up to the bouncer, past the long, impatient line, you hardly had to open your mouth before he was opening the door and letting you in. The groans and hateful stares of the people waiting felt like a crown on your head. You were still scum, sure, but for the night you were important.

On that evening, the bar wasn’t full of screaming patrons and blasting music, but slow, cool jazz. It was their calmest night where the low lamps gave off an orange-red glow on the deep wooden walls, and every shadow seemed comforting. People sat calmly at their tables, passing cards and taking shots. The ceiling hung low with the smoke of cigars and cigarettes. A sweet smell of booze wafted through the room, making any nasty smell of the people buying the drinks.

In her normal corner booth, Sevika was sitting with four men, cigarette pressed between her lips and cards in her hands. She was laughing lightly as she passed a card into the center of the table. The candle in the middle of the room illuminated her face and curved around her features. Beautiful, you thought, staring at her vibrant eyes.

As you waded through the tables of the room, she noticed you approaching, glancing over as the conversation at her table continued. Keeping an eye on you. You kept your cool, only giving a small smile back as you approached. Men of the bar kept looking up at your figure as you walked by their tables, admiring the way the leather suit curved over your hips and hugged your thighs.

The other men at the table were just as harsh and brutish as Sevika, all with scars over their faces or hands, rugged clothes, and a mean glare. They were younger than her but older than you, and they didn’t seem too friendly when you came up to the table.

One of them, with white blonde hair and a blind eye, wrinkled her nose as he looked you up and down. With a toothpick in his mouth, he questioned, “Who’s that?”

Sevika cleared her throat, looking down at her cards as she drew another from the deck. “I hired her.”

You froze, brow furrowing as your upper lip curled. Your services didn’t involve simple company at a bar. You surely didn’t want to be here if she was going to pay you for it.

She chuckled under her breath, looking up at you. “I’m kidding, doll. Sit down.” She tapped the spot on the cushion next to her.

Apprehensive, you sat beside her slowly. If this night was just going to be her being a bitch, you weren’t going to get involved. You could go back to Babettes and earn your dinner like always. You didn’t need her free food. And her expensive rum. And her perfectly rolled clove cigarettes…

The more you looked around the table, the longer you wanted to stay. You’d seen her and her men around the bar before but never noticed how nice of a night they always had. Each man was sitting comfortably around the booth with either a cigar, cigarette, or drink, lounging as they waited for the game to start. The loud music was slightly muffled, making the table almost cozy and closed off.

They were just finishing a game as you got there, a pile of coins in front of Sevika and dwindling collections by the other players. They were settling bets and getting more drinks, idle conversation as everyone got ready for another round. Sevika shuffled the deck and delt you your own hand.

You were sitting close to her, but just far enough away so you didn’t touch. A distance she would have to choose to close if she really wanted to. Yes, you liked her and wanted her attention, but you weren’t going to devote yourself to her to get it. If she really liked you, she’d take what she wanted.

And it didn’t take her long. As she was puting your cards down in front of her, she smiled and met your eyes. Her gaze drifted down your neck, chest, and down to your lap. She was close, her broad figure looming beside you enough to block your view of three of the men.

Her eyebrows raised. “You’ve got something on your neck.”

A heat hit your face as you rubbed the skin under your chin. God, you couldn’t look decent just once. “What is it?”

“Something I left for you.”

Your hands dropped and you rolled your eyes. “Oh, fuck off.”

She smiled wider, shaking her head and sitting back. The tables was coming back together and everyone was picking up their cards as a waitress came around with more drinks. She had a glass for you and Sevika poured you some rum. The waitress smiled a bit too sweetly at Sevika when she said thank you, and it made you inch a bit closer to her.

You picked up your cards and sipped your drink. Rum was never your favorite, but in this setting, it felt right. Your deal wasn’t the worst, but you;d defitnety have to sit out for the round. You were trying to play your best.

At the brothel, you and your tolerable coworkers would play and gamble during slow hours all the time. Your room was the hot spot where everyone would crown around the coffee table, taking a smoke break, and having good fun. It was never that serious, everyone putting their earrings or hair clips in as prizes only to hand them back at the end of the game. But, there was a skill level that all of you developed.

And you were the best.

You all got through two games that Sevika won. She truly enjoyed it. A sly smile spread across her face as she collected everyone’s coins, only handing you a coy apology and running her hand up your though to make up for it. It didn’t matter to you. Your cards weren’t that good anyway.

Though, you liked the way she got when she was that happy. She was touchy. She would “accidentally” brush her hand over your tit, and she really liked to fiddle with that zipper that rested between your ribs. You’d push her away, saying something about how stupid she was being and how the alcohol was getting to her, and she’d give a boozy smile and turn to shuffle the cards again.

On the third game, you got a good hand. A really good hand. You kept your cool as you saw the empress and her court smiling up at your on the painted card. Every mention of a tell that your friends had mentioned to you ran through your head and you hid every sign. No one would know. You would win.

It took great thought to get through. Early on, Sevika noticed how much more focused you were, and it caused her to keep putting more money on the table. The men all had relatively bad hands except for one, but he backed out after a while, not trying to get in the middle of whatever mental battle you and Sevika were engaged in.

In the end, with the final turn of a card, you had won. With a huge pile of copper in teh middle fo the table, you whooped and bounced in your seat, grinning as you pulled all of the money towards yourself.

Sevika was angry. You could see it in the way she wouldn’t look at you adn how she stared into her empty glass. Her jaw was clamped tightly shut and she was thinking hard, still looking at the coins you’d taken from her. It wasn’t her fault. She hardly knew you, and she had expected you to be moer of an open book then your were. To be truthful, she dind’t know the half of who you were, and that was her fatal flaw.

Part of her still thougth of you as those prissy virgins she usually saw. It was hard for her to accept that she liked someone so similar to her own spiteful nature. She didn’t like it unless you two were naked, apparently.

She swallowed and shook her head. “I let you win.”

Your nose wrinkled. “Shut up.”

A fake laugh tossed itself from her lips and she held her hands in helplessness. “Just trying to be nice. If I beat you every time, you won’t enjoy it so much. There’s no way you can actually win.”

“Sevika—“ You scoffed, shaking your head at her as you wondered why she fucking bothered to say those things. “Whatever. I’m going to get a cocktail.”

She chuckled bitterly as you stood up. “Rum’s too strong?”

You held your middle finger up behind you as you stomped to the bar. Sevika muttered something else under her breath that you didn’t want to hear. The lively jazz that filled hte bar felt so suffocating now as you walked past a betting table thick with smoke. You didn’t need her pouting just because you won. It was supposed to be a fun night. Only a baby cried because they lost a stupid game.

You sat at the bar and ordered a drink. The bartender was a nice but nervous man who must’ve known who you were accompanying. He stuttered as he took your order and nearly dropped the vodka when he went to pour it. He was good at his job though adn your drinks as sweet with an after taste that stung your throat. You thanked him and made soem idle conversation, knowing that Sevika was watching you out of the corner of her eye.

You could feel the heat of her anger even from that far away. You planned on sitting at the bar for a little longer, let them play a game without you so she could get a win back under her belt. Maybe then she’d be nicer.

The bartender Thieram was a nice man who made you rlaugh once or twice as you sipped your drink. He was respectful. Most men either didn’t like you or liked you too much. It wasn’t often your found someone who treated you like a friend.

This fact was proven a few minutes later when a man steppe dup to the bar to order a beer. He was probably almost thirty with black hair graying on the sides and a long tattoo down her left forearm. He was ugly. But ugly in a way that some people found very attractive, though the second you stared at him for too long, he looked like an abstract painting.

You only glanced at him for a second before stirring your drink while waiting to talk to Thieram again. He had a deep, angry voice. After Thieram turned away, he stayed at the bar and leaned against it, turning to face you. “You alright, babe?”

You didn’t look up. “Who are you calling babe?”

“Just a pretty woman I see at the bar.” He chuckled. “I’m Leox.”

“And I’m not interested.”

None of your blatant signals got through to him. In fact, he stepped closer. Enough that you could smell the weed he’d been smoking. “Come on. You seemed kinda upset at your table. Why don’t you come and join mine? I’ll treat you real good.”

“Oh, will you?”

“Yes,” he sighed. He leaned in, brushing your hair off your forehead. “I will.”

“Hm,” you hummed, closing your eyes as you pretended to enjoy his flirting. “Well…”

You pushed him away. “I’m still not interested.”

You only did men if they paid you for it.

The firm hand you placed on his shoulder withdrew only slightly before he gripped your wrist in place. For a brief moment your breath caught as he tugged you off of your stool and you were stumbling into him.

He grabbed your jaw firmly and pulled your face up to look at him. “Why couldn’t you just be nice? I know you’re just some whore. I could’ve paid well too.”

You jerked from his grasp, trying to turn around to get free and run out of there. He smelt awful and his breath was hot in your face. His teeth were yellow.

You were able to jam your heel into his toes, making him flinch so you could wriggle free, but as you were getting away, his foot caught under you and you fell to the ground. Your palms took the blunt of the pain as you scrambled to get yourself up.

As you pulled yourself to your feet, a heavy set of footsteps was storming past you and towards the man. In your panic, and with the moment being so quick, you hardly heard what she was saying to him—yelling at him.

You spun around, uneasy on your feet, and only saw their final interaction: Her fist against his face.

Once such a strong, intimidating man crumbled into a heap on the floor. Sevika stood over him, shimmer coursing through her metal arm and heavy breaths moved her shoulders, flexing the muscle. She turned around and you only saw the faint glint of purple in her eyes before she passed you again and ordered her men to take the guy out back. Teach him a lesson, she said.

The bar was silent. The woman humming low jazz was standing shocked beside her accordion player, the other patrons were trying to keep their gazes down, and Thieram was standing helpless behind the bar, terrified. You felt your face get hot as you stepped back subconsciously, your arms crossing and hugging your ribs.

Sevika was done barking orders and came up to you, pulling you back into the private room of the bar. The familiar place almost brought back amusing memories if you weren’t so upset.

She pulled you into her arms, examining you and making sure you were alright. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No,” you shook your head. “No, I’m fine. Shit like that happens all the time to me.”

She exhaled heavily through her nose and looked at the door. She must’ve been pondering whether to go help her men or not, but your hand on hip kept her there.

You two ended up sitting on the couch together sharing a cigarette. You were beside her with your legs rested across her lap and your head on her shoulder. She had her hand gripping your thigh and her metal arm wrapped over your shoulders.

You looked up at her face after a long drag and saw how tense her face was, how she didn’t seem to be moving an inch. Staring off into space with a firm furrow in her brow.

“Sev?” You frowned, brushing her stray hairs off her forehead. “Don’t be so upset. Everything’s okay.”

Sure, you were a bit shaken, but men were always like that to you. It wasn’t right, but it was something you had to get used to. She’d have to understand that if she were to be around you.

She pursed her lips. “It’ll be okay as long as he gets what he deserves.”

You ran your thumb over the muscles of her collar. “Just try to calm down.”

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”

You sighed, understand the aggression wasn’t towards you. To be honest, you didn’t feel unsafe at all with her. Even though her eyes still sparkled violet when the lamplight caught it.

“Everything will be okay,” you assured. “I’m fine and he’s gonna get what’s coming to him. Relax, dear.”

Again you rubbed her collar and shoulder, your fingers trying to ease any tension she had. You leaned in to place a small kiss under her jaw, and as your lips brushed her skin, she held you tighter against her.

You kissed her neck again, lingering to drag your tongue over her in a way that made her sign and settle into the couch. The action spurred you on and you left another heavy kiss to her pulse point, making sure to leave proof that you did so.

You climbed into her lap and straddled on of her thighs, the right muscle fitting right against your clit. She let you tilt her head back so you could keep up your actions.

“What…”

A sly smile spread across your lips and you kissed below her ear. “Just trying to help you relax,” you cooed, a bit of mischief in your voice as one of your hands fiddled with the top button of her vest.

As you pulled the button free, her hand on your thigh got ever so slightly tighter and you remembered the shimmer in her system.

“Come on, Sev, don’t be so upset. Don’t let him ruin the night.”

You dragged your kisses down her chest, letting more of her buttons become undone until she was helping you pull her arms out of the sleeves and you tossed her shirt onto the other side of the couch.

She looked magnificent, curving muscle winding down her stomach, scars lacing her skin, and her breasts dark and nipples pebbled from the cold.

As you took the moment to admire her, she grabbed your ass and nudged you to keep going. You’d never expect her to be so lenient on letting you have control, but maybe she was trusting you more. Or maybe she just really needed to let some stress out.

Your tongue slid across her chest, lips finding one of her breasts for you to suck on. You twirled your tongue around her nipple, sucking it into your mouth and rolling it around your teeth. She moaned, gripping you hair and letting you grind on her thigh. It was a perfect mixture of giving and receiving, all of her grains sending shockwaves to your core and you reveled in the taste of her.

You wanted to taste more.

As you slid onto the floor on your knees, you dragged you hands down her thighs and then up to undo her belt. She was breathing heavily as you kissed down her stomach, enjoying the sensation of her muscle against your lips. You pulled her pants down with her underwear, wrestling them over her boots and letting them be lost somewhere in the room.

Adrenaline led you to avidly kiss down her thighs, licking over every inch on the insides as you got closer and closer to her core. You could tell her was ready for you, her hand gripped the back of your head, waiting to hold your mouth against her. You moaned as she tugged at your hair lightly, trying to get you to start.

You left a long kiss on her inner thigh, just an inch from her pussy befor turning to begin. Only, you stopped to look up at her flushed face as smile.

“You’re so gorgeous, Sev.”

The compliment was not taken happily. “I swear to god—you and that fucking mouth of yours,” She breathed, her pupils blown as she rolled her eyes.

“Oh, you don’t like the teasing when it’s the other way around?”

“Just eat,” she huffed, pushing your face into her core.

It was hot and dripping, so ready for you. You lifted one thigh into your shoulder and spread her folds with your fingers. Her hairs were well kept and trimmed, brushing your nose as you dragged your tongue through her, tasting her.

She moaned, pushing your face further into her as you found her clit, flattening your tongue and coaxing over the bud. As you worked her up, you slid your fingers down and circled her entrance slowly, teasing it lightly.

Another heavy groan fell from her as she tightened her legs around your head. You could hardly hear her due to the clamp her thighs had over your ears.

Everything was so intense, the scent of her, the taste, the pressure of her legs, and the ughh grip she had on your hair. All you could do was kiss and lick her clit, enjoying the moment. It was so overwhelming you completely forgot any else that had happened that night.

You flicked her bud with the tip of your tongue, sucking on it as you slid two fingers into her.

It made her tense up and her head fell back over the back of the couch. She was desperate, holding your face so close and gently rocking her hips against your tongue as you fucked your fingers into her.

“Fuck, baby, don’t stop,” she demanded. You could sense her stress waning as she breathed deep and relaxed into you. You circled your fingers against her walls every time you pushed them in, sucking and licking her clit as you did so.

With your other hand, you pulled down the zipper of your suit and reached under the leather to find yourself. All of her heaving and moaning was too much for you to handle. The taste of her alone made you drip. You slid your fingers between your lips, finding your eager, swollen bud and stroking it.

You moaned against her, the vibrations making her gasp and you quickened your pace on both her and you. She was desperate, fucking heralded on your face bc had while you moaned against her clit and sucked. Rapid, intelligible words fell from her lips as she reached her high, curses and praised to you crescendoing into muttering whines as she came.

The pressure of her legs and your fingers rubbing over your clit was enough to get yourself there too. You cried out into her folds, the stimulation making her jerk as she came down from her high with you.

The both of you were breathing heavily as you crawled back up to her lap. She held you, sliding her hands past the unzipped front of your catsuit so she could feel your hot skin.

Your lips met in a messy clash or desperation. She dragged her teeth over your bottom lip as she made her grind your pussy against hers, the overstimulation making you both shudder.

Just as easily as you’d fallen into her kiss, she was pulling away and moving you off her lap. She set you down on the couch as she stood up, grabbing her clothes off the floor and couch to put them back on.

You sat up, anger and panick setting in. Did you do something wrong? “What—where are you going?”

She began to button her vest up, a grin sliding over her lips. “I’m taking you home.”

[cybunii]

HIDE AND SEEK

“Let's play a little game and have fun”

a/n: so glad this is finally finished >< I do have a part two planned but I have NO idea when that would come out. this is the longest thing i have written so far- pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN! Reader tw: stalking, dub/non-con, slight mentions of somnophilia, intercrural sex/thigh fucking, gaslighting, murder and drugging, Leon is a prick :3, obsessive and manipulative behavior, possible kidnapping, etc.

-

It was safe.

You lived in a relatively small town, and never seeing any reports of kidnapping or murders on your TV made life easy to live. The worst things to happen were food shortages because of the slow drivers, or maybe the power going out because of the awful storms. 

You never had to worry about anything. You worked at the little grocery store on the corner, going between the deli and the floral department when needed. After working there for years, you knew everyone who lived there, eventually knowing their names and where they lived. You had made it a point to talk to everyone you saw, wanting them to feel welcome and seen, it was just a small habit you picked up.

It wasn't the most exciting job in the world, but it was nice to be able to pay rent and have a routine. The days when partners would come in gushing about who they were buying flowers for were your favorite, let it be birthdays, holidays, or just a random event. It made your day, and you weren't even the one receiving the flowers. 

It seemed like you were the outcast in the town, not because no one liked you, but because you didn't have kids or a partner. It didn't bother you about the kids, you were never too fond of having them. Cute, but not for you. The partner subject was a harder thing to explain, you were used to living and being alone so it didn't bother you much. 

You always thought of that as you made the arrangements, the feeling of someone putting their heart into making something so special for you.

This puts you to right now, placing together an arrangement while Mrs. Green talks about her grandkids. You often wondered if she actually liked them with how much she complained about them. They were bad kids though, and got into trouble every week.

“…And of course Parker has to follow in Taylor’s footsteps and tear up the place, knocking over my expensive vase- the one you got me for my birthday-” She explains, covering her mouth as she realizes what she said. “Oh dear, I’m so sorry…” 

You shake your head and put on your best fake smile, holding up a hand to ease her worries. 

“It’s quite alright Mrs. Green, you know how kids are.” You shrug, but internally your wallet dies. You hunted for that vase for hours, finally getting one on sale for roughly $260. Damn those kids. 

She wraps up the conversation maybe a few minutes later, rattling off some reason about cooking her famous chicken again. 

You lived next to her and smelled whatever she cooked while you had your windows open, if the smells were any indication, she was a damn good cook. 

I mean anything smelled good to you. You weren’t a 5-star chef or anything, but you could cook decent meals. Better than the college route of sandwiches and noodles. Those were the days.

-

It doesn’t take long for the day to end, only having a few people working in the store meant shorter closing hours, and getting to go home earlier than most was a perk. You walk out after closing up, locking the door, and practically crashing into Mr. West, basically the head of the events committee for this town. 

“Woah! Be careful there sweetheart.” He said, chuckling like he wasn’t the reason of you almost falling on him. 

“Sorry, what’s up?” You asked, actually interested this time. The last time he planned something, the entire town showed up, it was one of the most exciting things to happen in this town in a while. 

“Well, I came to formally invite you to the little get-together I’ve been planning for the new neighbor, I want to help make them feel welcomed here.” He grins, clasping his hands together as he talks, I guess that makes sense, everyone here knows each other so a new person joining may feel out of place, almost like a new kid joining a new school. Possibly horrifying to experience. 

“A new person? Where at?” You ask, not seeing any empty buildings near your house. Then again it had been a while since you last looked, and the Gold family has been strangely absent. 

“Right on the corner, lil white house with the blue shutters?” 

You nod in acknowledgment, suddenly knowing where that one is and frowning at the fact. 

That house has been abandoned for years, I mean long before you even moved into your little place. The blue didn’t look as vibrant and the white was a sad and dirty grey. 

The inside of the house is just as run down as the outside was. Broken furniture litters the house, most have fallen from their resting places and piled up on each other. The walls are cracked and the floor is covered in dirt and grass that have grown inside the house. 

“Ah, yeah. That one…”

Mr. West nods, almost uncaring about the state of the house. “Yup, been meaning to sell that house for ages. Nice to see some new meat round here.”

“Guess so, but I’ll be glad to take you up on that offer. What’s the details for it?” You ask, taking out your phone. 

He practically swats your phone away, shaking his head in disappointment. “Ah don’t worry about that old thing, I got letters to send out, you’ll see it when it arrives!” He bids his goodbyes and quickly walks off down the sidewalk, assuming he’s knocking on the door of your neighbors next. 

On your journey back home, you take an extra second to look at the house, it being the same way you remembered it. You thought they’d at least try and clean it up, but maybe the person isn’t here yet. The mailbox at least looked new, a nice shiny baby blue color, the black numbers on the side reading “205.” 

If first impressions mean anything, the entrance having some pop to it makes it easier on the eyes and matches the house too. 

But something about the house seems off. You can't put your finger on it, but something feels...wrong about it. 

But maybe that's just the strange aura the abandoned house brings. You continue the trek to your house, thinking about the invitation that the city council member gave you previously before reaching your street. The quiet road is mostly void of any human activity, with the occasional leaf floating down on the wind and the birds fluttering through the air.

Having no information on it so far makes it hard to plan anything out, especially if the letter gets sent too late. 

-

You stop in your tracks at the small glimpse of color resting on your doormat, squinting your eyes at it and deciding it’s too far away to actually tell what it is. 

You make small strides to your front porch, your pepper spray in hand when you pause, almost laughing at the fact that you almost pepper sprayed a bouquet of flowers. You frown and pick it up, the display of flowers similarly close to the arrangement you made earlier that day. 

You suspiciously inspect it with squinted eyes, turning it around before finding the note secured by a ribbon that’s wrapped around the middle. 

“Thought you deserved these more. <3” 

That’s nothing short of weird. 

Not only did the note have some sort of…stain on it, the handwriting is damn near illegible, barely being able to read the poorly attempted cursive on the small note. 

You don’t even know who sent these but it already seems annoying. No return address and no name means there’s someone too shy to approach you, a loser in your eyes. Could be a cute loser, those are fun. 

You shrug it off and walk in your house, flowers in hand as you place them on the kitchen counter, scouring your cabinets for a vase that’s suitable for them. You know it’s your work, just strange on how it ended up back in your hands. You grab the glass from under the cabinet, putting fresh water in it as you trim the bottom of the stems, carefully setting them in the vase on the counter. You’d have to pick up flower food later, but you can always do that tomorrow, not like you don’t already have a shift at the grocery store in the morning.

It’s a weird, possibly fucked up scenario, but It’s almost sweet in a way. Maybe in a school girl way, with your crush or secret admirers sticking notes or love letters in the slots of your locker. Grinning as you show your friends, the ecstatic look on their faces as they encourage you to go over to them, to thank them or ask them out on a date. 

You’ll have to think of consequences later. 

But now? You’ll happily sip your drink and stare at the flowers, daydreaming about who could possibly be your secret admirer.

-

The next day at work is just as boring, but this time your manager Beck did assign someone to your department, so now you’ll only have flowers today. She is in the office today, and you being her favorite employee, she often hangs around, picking up scraps and putting together some of the orders. 

“You hear about the new guy?” She asked, lazily throwing together another order of red roses. 

New guy huh? Guess Mr. West didn’t mention who the new neighbor could be. 

“Somewhat, already got an invite to that huge gathering West is planning.” 

She scoffs, rolling her eyes at the mention of both the gathering and West. They were together at some point, could be rumors, but you can’t deny seeing her knuckles turn white on occasion as she clenches her fists together. Just hearing about him must make her angry. 

“I heard. Can’t wait for that.” 

“It won’t be so bad, maybe it’ll be nice to get the town together again. Especially for the all-famous new guy.” You offer with a shrug, knowing you could care less about all of it. 

It’s not like you hated the poor guy right off the bat, but with every conversation being centered around him? It makes him seem like the next Jesus Christ. With even you knowing about him, the entire town is probably waiting for his arrival. And you know these people, already have assumptions based on his name, of which you don’t even know. You’d almost feel bad if you didn’t already have your own assumptions. 

 He better live up to the hype, or these people will eat him alive. 

“…you know, I actually saw him when he was touring the house,” Beck says with a grin, and you already know the look on her face. She’s a romantic at heart, can’t really blame her. 

“Oh yeah, panty-dropping?” 

She laughs and rolls her eyes, but you know it’s true. She’s attractive, but her college days will never leave her. You cannot forget the drunken stories she’s rambled to you about them practically lining up outside her dorm, and honestly? Good for her. 

Only action you get is from whatever you watch on television, or recently that weird-ass admirer situation. You keep your mouth shut about that, not that you don’t trust her, but she’ll make it a much bigger thing than you need right now. The last thing you need is more attention for this weird display of affection. 

“Well, he’s kinda tall, intimidating but has a cute baby face- Oh! And the most gorgeous blue eyes I’ve ever seen.” She smiles, practically glowing red. 

“Sounds boring, there’s like a million of those already.” You shrug, crossing your arms after putting down the completed order. 

“This one is different! There’s something about his eyes, he’s mysterious.” She nods, a mischievous expression on her face. 

“Right, I’ll see for myself whenever this party happens.”

Beck waves you off with her hand and goes into the break room, maybe to smoke again, it has been a while since her last break. 

It’s been a while since your break as well, and no one is near the counter, and you’ve finished all your orders for today. What harm could a break do? You follow in her footsteps and walk back to your locker, opening it and sifting through your bag. After a few moments you forget what you’re looking for, but the lack of your lighter makes you pause. 

Very small thing, but still noticeable. You step outside and eye Beck up and down with a suspicious look, squinting your eyes at her. 

“What?” She asks, blowing out the smoke. 

“Did you grab my lighter? It’s gone.” 

She raises an eyebrow and shakes her head, pulling out her bright yellow lighter. “Nope, got mine right here. Anyone else smoke?” 

“Nah, just us. Damn, I liked that one.” You feel your pockets one last time and lean against the wall, now having to buy yet another lighter. 

“How do you keep losing yours?” She laughs at you, and you shrug, not like you have any idea. You have a good memory but misplace the small things, you think it’s only natural. 

“No clue, maybe I’m being haunted.” 

The woman laughs again and shakes her head. "Haunted by who? A ghost with something to gain from you? I heard that is an incredibly rare phenomenon."

It doesn't seem crazy, in fact, the idea feels...plausible. The spirits that haunt this area are mostly vengeful, but that still doesn't explain why they would send you things. What would a vengeful spirit have to gain from giving you gifts?

“Yknow, I’ve got this other guy, names L? Supposedly runs a business catching ghosts, people eat that shit up. He’s basically swimming in money.” She nods with a serious look, pointing her finger at you. 

And? Yeah okay- Sometimes you can’t tell if she’s actually serious or just fucking with you. 

You don’t offer up a reply, instead staring at her with a disappointed look. She shrugs in response, taking a drag off her cigarette. 

She continues smoking, blowing out a puff of grey smoke that wafts up and drifts away in the wind. It has a pleasant smell, the scent of flowers and honey-like fruits. It is soothing. The woman's expression remains as nonchalant as it was previously.

“Might head in, heard someone at the counter.” It’s cutting your break a few minutes short, but not like you can do anything else. 

Have to add that to your list of things to do later. 

Care about the consequences of keeping the flowers, buy a new lighter, and use your break time wisely. 

You make a mental note of those three things. The rest of your shift goes as smoothly as expected, though you have a nagging feeling that there is something off about the house you saw earlier. That feeling, mixed with the strange gifts and Beck's strange comment has your mind racing. 

-

That night you had to close late, the customers obviously not understanding closing hours. You get people need food, but they could’ve cleared their schedules or something- Maybe even get there the next morning when you first open. Beck couldn’t close because her cat sitter said he got sick, so she had to rush home and get him to the vet- which is unfortunately hours away.

You make your rounds through the store, jotting down the few things that need to be stocked in the morning. And also make sure no one is trying to stay overnight, kicking those people out is the worst. The last time someone had hidden in the break room, practically scaring the poor new girl to death, she didn’t stay long after that.

A small clang gets your attention, the sound only being noticed because of the dead silent- and hopefully empty store. 

Two things could happen here, either someone is here and fucking with something, or it’s an animal of some kind. 

You don’t want to deal with either. 

You unhook the pepper spray from off your belt, gripping it in your hands like it may fall, almost like a greedy spoiled kid with anything. Unable to let go, and won’t without a good reason. 

Your reason? 

Nothing being here. 

You stalk around the corner with quiet steps, frowning when you hear the small taps of your shoes as they carefully touch the ground when you walk. Damn these shoes and this slick ass floor. You’re hyper-focused on any noise that your ears can pick up, but of course your brain has to imagine hearing footsteps all around you. Another clang has you looking towards the break room, now registering the sound as the locker opening and closing. Walking towards the sound makes your heart race, the loud thumping beats filling your head as you take more and more steps towards the room. 

Rushing around the corner has you panting and hyperventilating, aiming your pepper spray at the lockers - seeing a masked figure quickly slip out the back door, completely dressed in black. 

You run after them, knocking the door open and running into the parking lot. After a quick and very thorough search, it was like they disappeared. There’s no one walking or anything, only the sound of the wind filling your ears. 

A quick walk back to the break room and you’re searching the lockers, praying that they didn’t steal or break anything. Everything is perfectly fine, until you step towards your locker. Nothing seems out of place, but your gut tells you something is in there, something’s wrong. 

You take a deep breath and swing the locker open, squeezing your eyes shut so hard you start seeing shapes. Nothing popping out at you has you opening your eyes again, glancing down at your once empty locker with an expression of disbelief- and maybe a small hint of…disappointment?

It’s your lighter. A small note attached to it reading, “Sorry :(“

…

What?

You know it’s whoever gave you the flowers, I mean they find your house, your workplace, and locker, steal your stuff, and then return it?

You were barely angry about it, only annoyed, and that’s all it took for them to give it back to you? Especially in the weird way that they did. 

They had to be nearby to hear that conversation you had with Beck, whether outside or inside the store. But no one being there makes you pause.

It makes you wonder how long they’ve been watching you. 

The chill that runs down your spine and makes your entire body shiver makes you consider finally setting up those security cameras around your house. You may not be able to do it at the store, but damn this stalker being able to free-roam your own house. 

Makes you consider buying another weapon as well, pepper spray is temporary at this point, people can still fight with their eyes closed.

It being almost midnight puts a stop to enacting any of your plans, you'll just have to invest a pretty penny in the morning to get those cameras, then spend the entire afternoon planning out and placing the cameras around your house. 

Even if you are the only one to see the footage, the thought of having cameras watch you is almost creepy in a way. Like an instant goosebumps kind of feeling. Just gross, can't explain it. 

A quick walk back to your house has you calming down some, despite it being night, the street lights do good work to light up the streets, and hearing the small buzz come from them is soothing in a way. 

You stop by your mailbox first, your morning shift crossing with the path of the mailman's schedule. A glance through the letters and you stop at the bright pink one, immediately knowing it has the details of the gathering. 

Ripping the top off and skimming through the small writing makes you want to crumble the letter up in your hands, just tossing it out into the street. Of course, it's tomorrow, well technically today since it's well past midnight now. 

The only good part is that it's around five, which gives you time to sleep and prepare some weird side dish. It's much better than trying to pick out a gift for the random guy, that's a hair-pulling kind of stress that you definitely dont want to deal with right now, or ever. 

-

That night you actually managed to have a full night's rest, no randomly waking up or any nightmares to scare you half to death. The bright lights peaking through your blinds make you immediately cover your eyes, stretching your legs out and hearing the small pops. 

Sitting up makes you jolt a bit, and the sudden realization of something wet between your legs makes you groan. A quick look under the covers has your mind reeling, it's definitely not your period, and it's all over your thighs and underwear. 

You dont remember having a dream that good to literally come everywhere, let alone have it look like this. Tossing your clothes and sheets in the washing machine and taking a hot shower has you relaxing and not paying any attention to it. 

You have better things you need to worry about today. 

The letter only contained the dishes already being brought to the event, a small note at the bottom explaining to try and bring a dish everyone can eat. Could be easy enough, you could just go to the store and grab a fruit plate or something. Doesn’t take much time to get and is somewhat inexpensive. 

Plus-

Everyone knows this main event is not about the food. 

Around roughly 4:45, you pull up to an awfully crowded building. With most of the parking spaces being filled and people having to stand outside due to the inside being packed, you dont have high hopes for a stress-free night. 

These people are good people, and you get along with them just fine. But having to be at an introduction party is the worst. Having the same conversation over and over again isn't exactly your idea of fun.

And with how many people are here? 

You should practically have sorry on speed dial anytime you may bump into someone, I mean- god forbid you dont apologize for what they did. Of course, everything is fine, you might explode if someone elbows you again but it's all chill! Complaining and daydreaming have you slowly exiting your car, fruit plate in hand as you try to find the food table. 

A reunion. Always something to complain about, whether the food is too dry, the children are annoying, or the awkward moment when that one neighbor drinks too much and starts to talk about his latest conspiracy theories. 

A lot of families have those members you wish you didn't know. But, hey, that's the price you pay to be related to someone.

And two conversations later you finally set it down 20 minutes later. 

You glance up at the poorly taped banner on the wall, holding up a nice welcome greeting.

Leon, huh?

Puts a name to the face you haven't seen yet.

There's something ominous in the air about party's dedicated to a single individual. 

Maybe because everything is out of your control, with every person here dedicated to making the honored person the center of attention. 

Of course, that is exactly why he might enjoy their party. But for a newcomer, it feels like being thrown into a lion's pit, surrounded by a pride of unknown beasts.

In moments like these, you wish it was just a normal party, where the stakes were lower, and the random people and neighbors were your friends.

It's not that they're rude people. You're just more of an introvert, wishing you had some kind of anchor for yourself, a familiar face or a friendly voice.

Beck hasn’t even shown up yet, leaving you standing in the corner watching the others, sipping on a champagne that tastes like perfume. 

You push yourself off the wall and crash into someone, the champagne spilling all over your neck and outfit, the sounds of their apologies drowned out by your thoughts.

The smell of spilled champagne fills your nose, and the apologetic sounds from the stranger fills your ears. You are sure to apologize as well, as the liquid stains your clothes and spills onto the ground as well.

The stranger seems nice, though unfortunate that the two of you crashed into each other, and both of your outfits are now wet and sticky.

The stranger doesn't seem very upset or annoyed by your spilling your drink over them, and you apologize profusely.

A moment passes, and you lock eyes with this strange person. The two of you laugh, the embarrassment fading away as both of you realize that it was an unfortunate accident.

Both of your attention is focused on each other now. The two of you lock eyes, and you can't help but notice how attractive this stranger is. It’s not about his overall appearance or personality, it’s the eyes that are drawing you in. Like a siren call, they practically pull you in, drowning in a sea of the most beautiful blue shade you’ve ever seen. 

“What an awkward first impression, kinda ruined that. I’m Leon, by the way-“ 

He chuckles, extending his hand out and shaking yours with a firm grip, the feeling of rough and calloused palms against your own is almost calming in a way. 

“I’d stay and chat for a bit but I should get cleaned up…” You chuckle awkwardly, gesturing towards the champagne that nearly drenched you. 

“Ah, I am sorry again. I should’ve paid more attention.” Leon frowns, looking you up and down, almost analyzing the mess he made of you. 

A quick nod and you’re off to the bathroom, staring in the mirror as you dab your neck and chest with a damp paper towel. The odd but familiar scent of the towel fills your nose, almost like a wet stale cardboard smell. 

You toss them in the trash when you’re done, admiring your appearance in the mirror before stepping back out of the bathroom. As you step out of the bathroom, your eyes are quickly met by the stranger you met earlier. Leon seems to be making a quick beeline towards you, the two of you catching up after the awkward spill.

Leon eyes you with interest, his shy but flirty demeanor becoming increasingly obvious to you. “You clean up real nice.”

You feel your cheeks flush at his comment about you cleaning up nicely. It seems that your efforts paid off after all. You didn’t dress up for him, let alone dress to impress. But god do those words make you happy. 

You smile at him, unsure of what to say next. He seems a bit flirtatious, which is certainly intriguing.

You can't help but feel your heart pounding like it never has before. The two of you lock eyes for a moment, and your breathing grows shallow as you take him in fully. 

He stands a bit taller than you are, his dirty blonde hair framing his face just right. The way that he stands gives you a sense of security, and his expression is one that speaks volumes. The lights reflected off his soft features, almost making him glow. Maybe Beck was right, he may be average, but there’s something else there. 

There is something intriguing about him, something that attracts your attention, almost begging you to investigate more. While he might be average-looking, his presence is anything but, and you are sure to discover what hides below the surface of those gorgeous eyes.

You find yourself caught in conversation with Leon for so long, that the moments start to slip away as you talk away the night. The feeling of being energized is almost invigorating, as the two of you laugh and enjoy each other's company. It's hard to imagine that only the champagne is causing the buzzing feeling in your body, it is certainly more than just that. 

The night continues on, and the two of you keep talking, enjoying each other's company. The more you engage in conversation, the feeling underneath your skin starts to grow almost intense, and it becomes harder to ignore it, or how you feel about this stranger. You can’t tell if the pounding in your head is because of the alcohol or him, his gaze towards you sending chills down your spine, goosebumps trailing their way down your arms.

Leon seems to notice something is off, and the expression he presents is one of concern. "Is something wrong? You look sick..."

It takes every ounce of willpower to keep yourself collected, and your shaking heart under control. "It's nothing, just had too much to drink... maybe," you finally say, giving a half-smile and trying not to show how nervous you are.

You can't help but feel your heart beating like an angry drum. You're almost certain that he can see the signs of your drunken affection for him, and you are sure to grow more and more embarrassed with every passing moment. 

It seems like Leon is trying to offer support, but to you, this just feels like a game of hide and seek, each side trying not to show their cards too early. A cat and mouse chase, the game only ending when the other party gives in. 

“I’m fine, promise.” You wave off his concern, swirling your drink around in your glass in an attempt to focus on something other than his face.

"Okay, if you're sure..." Leon says, his tone expressing that he sees right through your bluff.

He seems to notice you trying to distract him from the situation, and his expression softens slightly. He seems to pick that up, and the conversation continues.

You can't help but feel a tad bit awkward, so you focus on your drink to avoid looking at him. The swirling glass keeps your vision occupied, but your mind is still focused on the face you tried to avoid.

The conversation continues, and there is little to distract you from the awkward situation between you and Leon. The buzz has only grown more intense, almost making it hard to think straight at moments. Your heart is beating and your mind is reeling, tiny specks of black spotting your vision.

“I’m gonna get some fresh air,“ 

As the words begin to leave your mouth, his features shift to one of confusion, disappointment, and hints of something else that you can’t quite place. "... you're leaving?"

"I'm just...." you try to reply, but the words get caught in your throat. "I'll be back, just need some fresh air," you finally manage to stammer out, the expression on his face adding fuel to your lie.

He only nods in response, and you stagger off to the exit, trying to escape the overwhelming feelings flooding you.

You rush past the other partygoers, ignoring their looks and questions as you try to escape to the privacy of your car. The air is refreshingly cool compared to the crowded party inside, and you can finally breathe. You don't bother leaning against the wall, and instead make a dash for your car.

The freedom is refreshing, and you open your car door to find a quiet space where you can collect your thoughts. You still feel a weird mix of emotions inside you, but in the car, you have some time to calm down.

The drive back home is a surreal experience, as the intense feelings of embarrassment and concern start to settle in. You get home and flop onto your bed, letting the plush pillows and soft blankets ease your mind as you fall asleep in a matter of minutes. 

You fall into a deep sleep, but the feelings still linger. However, the soft embrace of sleep makes the feelings more bearable, and you finally allow yourself to rest.

-

The hangover is the first thing that hits you as you wake up, along with the pounding of your head and the aching pain in your body. Itchiness washes over you, feeling like a lingering reminder of the previous night. No wonder you woke up with a headache, considering the amount of alcohol you probably put away last night.

The little bit of alcohol seems like it affected you more than it should have, given the fact that you aren't a lightweight. Why did you have such a strong reaction to a small amount of alcohol? Was it the stress of the situation, or was there something else going on?

You take the pill killers and swallow the cold water with some difficulty, the scratching in your throat making it difficult to swallow. You hope and pray that the pills will kick in soon, as the pounding in your head is unbearable.

The feeling of the pills finally kicking in makes the headache much more tolerable and the itchy feeling under your skin shifts to something slightly less unbearable. You still feel the heat beneath your skin, and you know that the strange feeling hasn't gone away, but it's certainly become more manageable.

As the pills take effect, you're able to gather yourself for a shower. The hot water pours over your body, and it's heavenly. Not only does it bring the pain of your hangover down to a much more bearable level, but it even helps to calm the strange feeling that has been creeping underneath your skin as well. The heat from the water feels divine, and you find yourself lingering in the shower far longer than you intend to.

You step out of the shower, all clean and dressed with a light snack eaten. The lingering effects of the strange feeling are finally bearable, and you're ready to face the world again.

You leave your house and make your way to the hardware store, hoping that they will have the security cameras that you're looking for. The walk there is pleasant, and the breeze is helping to clear out the last bit of the strange feeling you experienced the night before.

As you enter the hardware store, you are relieved to discover that they do, in fact, carry the security cameras that you're looking for. The person working there is super friendly and knowledgeable, helping to guide you to the right section of the store.

It's nice to be able to get some answers about what happened a few nights ago, and the purchase will certainly make you feel safer in your own home.

You're staring at the two boxes, considering one white shade or the other, when a familiar voice breaks your concentration. It's Leon, and it seems he followed you to the store? 

He seems to recommend one shade over the other, and you take his suggestion to heart. The ghost white seems to suit the color of your walls much better, although the seashell has a nice pinkish hue to it. 

"I'll take the ghost white, then," you say, and turn to give him a smile.

“What are you doing here?” You ask as you turn around, spotting his empty basket in hand. 

"I, uhh..." he falters for a moment before continuing. "I was actually headed here to buy some things as well." He gestures to the store, but his eyes seem to be fixed on you instead.

He seems to have something else to say, but he's hesitant. You get the feeling that he's trying to find the right words, and he seems to be avoiding making eye contact.

“I hope you find them all right, they seem to have everything here!” You quickly reply, snuffing out any hint of awkwardness.

He seems to relax a little, as if relieved to shift the topic away from anything tense. "Yeah, they really have everything here. They've got everything I was looking for."

The awkwardness between you seems to have faded, and you feel a bit more comfortable. The conversation is back to being a bit lighthearted, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off of both of your shoulders.

You bid your goodbyes and walk back to your house, holding the bag of freshly bought security cameras in your hand. Hopefully, they’ll blend nicely into your walls, Leon seemed to think so. 

You arrive back home with the two boxes of security cameras in hand and start to consider how to best set them up. You quickly decide the two outside and one in your bedroom, with the last remaining one being a bit of a mystery.

The living room would be a natural spot, but it's pretty open, and doesn't really make sense to have a camera there. The kitchen and dining room are an option, but those rooms could be considered too far away from your bedroom to really be effective at helping your paranoia.

You sit there for a moment, considering options of where the last camera could go. There are so many rooms, and so many different areas to consider, and you can't help but feel overwhelmed.

Finally, you make a decision. The last one will go in the basement, and the basement could use something to watch over it. The basement is an eerie place, with a large variety of odd and old items. The basement is not the neatest place in the world, but that works in your favor. 

You just make sure that it isn't pointed directly at any one thing, but rather in a way that you can watch everything.

You download the app on your phone, which allows you to view all of the cameras at any time. The basement camera is running smoothly, and the stream is clear. You can see the entire room at all times, though you can't detect any obvious signs of intruders or anything out of the ordinary.

It's a relief to have the cameras installed, and the house feels a bit more secure. 

Back upstairs, you toss the empty box and paper away as soon as you return. You won't need the physical reminder anymore, as the code is easy to remember. 

You sit on the couch and feel a feeling of peace wash over you. The cameras are set up, and the inside and outside can be monitored now. It feels comforting, and you hope the cameras will help deter any intruders from targeting your home, or better yet- whoever that one person was. 

-

A few days pass without any issues, and you feel your stress levels ease. Each peaceful day that goes by brings relief, knowing that the cameras are doing their job and nothing strange is going on. 

It's weird to think the strangest thing to happen is tourists flirting with you at your job, it's the truth. Every time you have to deal with one, you wonder how dumb they can really be. You wish you could smack them with the bouquets you sell, and make them regret ever coming over to your counter. But of course, you can't because that's not "Customer Service Friendly.” Ugh.

You almost start to forget about your worries, and life seems to return back to normal. The cameras are doing their job, and it seems like everything has been sorted out.

Leon has become a frequent person in your life, and you find yourself seeing him in almost every place you go. It seems that your paths often cross, even when you aren't necessarily expecting it.

Despite your issues with Leon earlier on, he has turned out to be an alright person. He hasn't done anything malicious like you had assumed, and he seems to be an honest person at this point. 

Beck still hasn't messaged you or anything, so it's been quite lonely without anyone to talk to. Leon has been the only person keeping you distracted from loneliness, and it's kind of refreshing to have someone new to talk to and hang out with.

Getting to know him in such a short time has been a bit of a surprise, as he's shared quite a bit with you. 

You learn about his life as a retired police officer, that he lives with a German shepherd named Lola, and that he currently doesn't have his family. The only other aspect about him that you haven't learned yet is his romantic life.

It's certainly understandable that he would keep his romantic life to himself. You don't go around advertising the fact that you're single either, so you get where he's coming from. It's just a private part of someone's life, and it's not something that needs to be discussed unless it's brought up by the person directly. 

It feels like there's more to him than just the police officer part, the German shepherd, and the lack of family. You kind of feel like there's more to the story when it comes to him. 

Which leads you to now.

You had invited Leon over for dinner, hoping that the house setting would make him feel more comfortable to open up and share more with you. You don't know what it is about him, but there's definitely more to his story than just his career and lack of family. He has some kind of wall around him, and maybe the more peaceful setting of the house will help him relax and share more.

The doorbell rings, signaling the arrival of Leon. You take one last glance in the mirror, making sure everything looks perfect before heading down to answer the door. You open the door, greeting Leon with a smile and leading him inside. 

The dining area is all setup, a delicious meal waiting on the table. The candles are lit and the mood is quiet and peaceful. The smell of the food you cooked wafted through the air, mixing with the warm and light scent of the candles.

Leon seems to be a bit sheepish as his eyes reach the table and linger on the candles and expensive dishes. "You didn't have to do all this for me..." he says, his tone of voice soft but a bit anxious.

You smile and reassure him, "Don't be ridiculous, It's nothing. I just thought I'd make you a nice meal. I've been wanting to cook for someone, and it seemed like a good opportunity." 

He seems to relax once you assure him, though he still seems a bit nervous. He is not used to this, the kindness that you're showing him. It's more than what Leon is used to. He almost looks uncomfortable. 

You take your seat at the table, motioning for him to take his as well. The candles light the room with a warm and dim glow, adding to the pleasant atmosphere of the dinner. Leon sits down at the table, looking at the food with a bit of a smile. He looks nervous still, but there is some kind of small enjoyment on his face. The dinner looks inviting, and Leon seems to be slowly growing comfortable with the situation.

You continue to chat over the delicious dinner, and the conversation flows smoothly for both of you. Leon is enjoying the food and seems to actually be enjoying the conversation. It's the first time you've gone this deep into your friendship with him, and you can't help but feel glad that he is enjoying this night so far.

You both finish eating, and you start putting away the food. You're now standing at your sink as you start washing the dishes, Leon coming over to help and washing the rest of them.

"Let me help you with that, I don't mind at all," Leon says, taking the dishes from you and helping to wash them. "I'm used to doing housework, so I can help finish these with you."

You feel a bit of resistance to the idea, wanting to handle it on your own. But, it seems like Leon is not accepting refusal as an answer. 

Instead, he is taking the dishes from you and helping to wash them himself. There is a sense of kindness and politeness in his voice as if he is offering a helping hand, and you can't bring yourself to deny him. You're not exactly sure what you did to deserve this level of kindness, but you're certainly not complaining.

"Well, thank you. I appreciate the help," You say, giving in and washing the dishes alongside him. "It's no problem really," Leon says, washing the dishes. The two of you scrub away at the dishes, and for a while, there's nothing but the sound of clattering dishes as the water washes over them.

Leon seems more comfortable now, and you notice that he's smiling a bit more as the dishes are cleaned. He does seem a bit restless though, unable to stay still for a long time. Messing with his clothes, bouncing his knee, fiddling with the dishes. The silence is peaceful though, and it's nice to have this small moment with Leon.

You glance over a few times and see Leon's gaze landing on the sharper cutlery, and you notice that he seems to be running his fingers along the sharp edge as if he is contemplating something. It's like he's considering whether or not he should be allowed to use those utensils, as if they're forbidden fruit or something. You can't help but feel a bit uneasy about the way he keeps looking at them. You watch cautiously as he continues to run his fingers along the sharp edge as if testing it out. There's a bit of worry in your mind when it comes to letting him hold these knives, as he seems to be entranced by them in some way. The thought of letting him get near them is making you feel a bit uneasy, but you don't want to be too controlling and tell him he can't touch them.

You hesitate for a moment, wondering if you should say anything at all, but your worry over the situation is too much for you to let go. You finally ask, "Is everything okay?"

Leon stops and turns to face you, his attention returning to you. "Hmm?" Leon hums, and you notice he's snapped out of the trance he was in. "Oh, yeah, everything's alright. I'm just cleaning the knives," he says, holding one up and scrubbing it.

You furrow your brows a bit at that comment, not wanting to push it further than that. If he says things are alright, then you might just have to take him at his word. It's no use pushing it further if he seems to be content, and you don't want to make things awkward or uncomfortable now.

As you finish up your portion of the dishes, you head over to the counter to dry your hands off with the hand towel. You keep glancing over at Leon, and he's still washing the dishes too. You're feeling ready to rest, but it seems like Leon is just finishing up his portion now. You watch him for a few moments as he finishes up the cutlery, wondering how much longer he'll take.

"I really do want to thank you." Leon suddenly says, the shift in his tone causes you to freeze a little bit, your brow twitching slightly at the ominous undertones it brings with it. You wonder what could have caused this change in the tone of his voice. The sudden seriousness that has come over him is unsettling, and it's almost as if he sees you in a different light now.

"You've been so nice to me, I can't help but feel touched," he says, still looking down at the dishes he's cleaning. This shift is alarming, especially with the way he's not even looking at you anymore.

You laugh awkwardly, trying to pass off his words with a joke. "No need to get all sappy on me," you echo back, hoping that he'll laugh along with you.

"Just wanted us to talk more, have a nice dinner between friends…" You repeat back in an attempt to be lighthearted and not make the situation too awkward.

"A friend, hm?" he says, finally taking his eyes off the dishes and looking up at you now. His gaze is almost piercing, and you can feel that he is studying you with his full attention. The way he's looking at you now makes you feel exposed, almost like he can find some hidden flaw with just one glance. His stare is almost piercing, and you feel like you're being studied from every angle. You wonder what he sees when he looks at you, and what he could be thinking right now.

"Well, we are friends," you reply back, feeling quite uneasy with the way he is looking at you. You don't like the way he's studying you like this, as if he's trying to find something wrong with you.

"That's what I've considered you as this entire time," you continue, trying to keep the sour feelings at bay.

Leon's gaze shifts and his entire demeanor changes in a jarring way. One moment he was focused on the dishes, and the next he was looking at you with an intense gaze that sends chills down your spine. You stare back at him with hesitation, and in just a split second you can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of uneasiness wash over you when you see him looking at you like this.

The silence between you two is thick as you stare at each other, and it's as if everything else in the world has stopped. You can't help but feel a sharp feeling of nervousness building inside you, making it feel almost as if you're in the presence of danger. You can't place exactly what changed about him, or what caused this shift in his demeanor. 

His laugh echoes in your ears, but the low and rumbling sound only serves to further distress you. This whole situation is unsettling and it's making you question everything. The whole time you thought you were simply having a nice dinner with a friend, but it appears the situation is a bit more intense than you thought.

"Is that what you think this is?" he asks you, raising an eyebrow.

"This friendship?" you ask, and you feel a bit taken off guard by the question. You stare back at him, your eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion. 

"What do you mean?"

"Is that what you think this is?" he asks again, and this time his tone is darker. You can't help but feel uncomfortable with the way he's looking at you when he says those words. It's as if he's challenging you in some way, and the vibe of him seems to have changed.

You can feel a mixture of confusion and anger wash over you as you narrow your eyes at Leon. You feel like he is implying something different, and you don't like it at all.

"That's all I think you are at the moment, nothing more," you reply, trying to keep your cool. You don't like the way this conversation is going, and you don't want to get too frustrated and ruin everything.

"Well, I'm sorry if you aren't satisfied with that outcome," Leon replies, his tone taking on a more ominous feel to it. Your confusion is growing at this point because everything he's saying seems to carry a deeper message. "But I dont think you understand what you're saying..."

"What do you mean by that?" you reply, feeling like the conversation is getting a bit intense now. The way he's talking has taken on a more ominous feel to it, and you can't help but feel a bit uneasy now.

"I dont understand what I'm saying?" you echo back, looking at him with a cautious expression. You're not sure what he means by that, but you're starting to get a bad feeling in your gut.

"I think you're just confused is all." He replies nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.

You can't help but feel a moment of frustration when he replies with a casual shrug. Was he just messing around with you? Was that threat in his words supposed to be some kind of joke?

"Confused?" you repeat back, but there's a bit of a frown on your face now. You're starting to feel more than just a bit confused, as he seems to be toying with your emotions. You're not sure what game he's playing at, but it's starting to bother you.

"Okay, I dont understand what's going on here. But I'm not comfortable with you being in my house anymore, I think you should leave." You say, shaking your head, shifting your weight back and forth as you speak, the motion soothing you. 

He seems taken aback by this sudden dismissal, his expression darkening somewhat as he looks at you with a look of surprise and something else. It's like he's trying to hide his anger, but you can't help but feel the threat of it lurking in his eyes.

"I'm not leaving," he replies, his tone shifting back to one of arrogance. He doesn't care that you're not comfortable with this situation, instead, he's demanding that this conversation continue. 

You feel like you're being backed into a corner, and the thought of being forced to engage with this anymore is making you feel uneasy.

"I said you should leave." You repeat yourself, doubling down on your decision.

"No, you should think things through and realize that you want me here." He says, his tone shifting from one of arrogance back to a threatening aura. It's a bit unsettling how quickly he shifted to this, with such a demanding tone. The conversation shifts in tone once again, and he is back to being arrogant and demanding. He doesn't plan to leave just because you told him to, and you're starting to feel uncomfortable with being in this situation with a person so hostile and unyielding.

You quickly size him up, your eyes widening when you spot the tightly gripped knife in his hand. The sudden change in his attitude and that tight grip on the knife make all the pieces click together for you, and suddenly everything makes sense. Your instincts take over, and you become alert to being in a potentially dangerous situation.

Leon notices your shock and tries to take advantage of it, lunging at you with the knife, aiming for your stomach. The sudden lunge catches you off-guard, and you flinch at the action. You can't help but start to feel a rush of fear as the knife aims for your stomach. 

You react quickly, dodging out of the way and punching him square in the jaw, sending him flying towards the floor. 

You scramble away and run as fast as you can in the direction of your bedroom, closing the door behind you and locking it tight. 

The adrenaline coursing through your veins makes your heart beat faster with every step, and you can feel your breath coming out in quick, shaky breaths.

You look around your room in a frenzy, using your new found strength to push your dresser in front of the door. You’re sure any police officer knows how to pick a lock, especially the basic ones that are in these old houses. In a panic, you try to find a place to hide and scan the room for somewhere to hide, your eyes landing on your closet. 

You move toward the closet, and you're careful to open and shut the door slowly. The inside of the closet is dark and cramped, making it feel more creepy than comforting. You try to ignore the feeling of claustrophobia that is creeping into you, and you duck down as you pull the door closed behind you.

The moment you duck into the closet, you hear the sounds of footsteps rushing up the stairs. You realize that your bedroom is the last room in the hallway, which means it could take him a while before he reaches you. 

But, he's going to get to you eventually and you start feeling a bit of panic in the back of your mind.

Would anyone find you when he reaches you? Could you be recognizable to the poor neighbor who finds your body when he’s done? 

You begin to get more and more anxious as the footsteps draw closer, the tension and fear of waiting for the inevitable reaching a fever pitch. 

You sit there in the closet, hiding and waiting in the darkness. You know that the longer this goes on, the more danger you're in, and you can't help but shake slightly at the thought.

You hear the slam of the guest room's door as it burst open, followed by the quiet sounds of rustling that fill your ears as he searches the room. It's an eerie noise, and it sends shivers down your spine as you realize he's getting closer to you. You clutch your hands, trying to keep your breathing quiet and steady as he gets closer.

The silence is overwhelming, as you try everything you can not to make a sound. You hold your breath as you hear Leon searching in the bathroom now, the rustling sound of the curtain pulling back catching your attention, your racing heartbeat growing stronger and louder as he gets closer. The tension is building, and the thought of him finding you is causing you more distress than you would like to admit.

You can hear the chuckle of Leon's voice as he reaches your bedroom door, and you hold your breath even tighter. He's getting so close now, and you can feel yourself starting to tremble with fear. His voice carries with it a sense of dominance and arrogance, and you can almost imagine the smirk he's giving you right now.

You clench your fists tightly as you hear Leon's voice talking to you through the door.

"I know you're in there. Why are you hiding? Do you think it'll help you?" he says, his voice sounding smug and superior. He sounds like he's enjoying this situation a bit too much, and your heart starts pounding in your chest as you hear the confidence in his voice.

The silence is almost deafening when you don’t respond, and you sit there listening to your rapid heartbeat and your slow breathing. There's so much tension in the air, and you feel like your heartbeat is going to explode out of your chest. 

The silence lasts for what seems like an eternity, but you close your eyes tight, hoping that he'll just give in and leave you alone. And, it seems your prayers are answered, and there's only silence for a few moments before the sound of footsteps heading down the stairs makes you sigh of relief. 

You sit in the closet, letting out a sigh of relief when you hear the footsteps heading down the stairs instead of coming toward your closet door. The tension is starting to ebb slightly, and you feel an overwhelming sense of relief wash over you. You feel like you can finally breathe again, and you start to slow your breathing as you try to calm down.

The sound of the dresser scraping against the floor escapes your notice as you try to take deep breaths and calm yourself down. You miss the sound of the footsteps moving toward the door, letting your heart beat faster as you bury your head into your hands. You miss the subtle noises that would have warned you of what was coming. 

When he rips open the closet door, you let out a sharp gasp and freeze, staring up at him in fear as he stares back with that smug expression on his face.

"Found you."

-

word count: 10k

[the-oblivious-writer]

Pretty Girl |3|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter Three: Unspoken Words

Summary: You and Tara have been avoiding each other for a while now until you decide enough is enough

Warning(s): Swearing, R can be just as confusing as Tara sometimes and oh so stupid & avoiding confrontation

Notes: Chad's the best wingman out there and that's canon, I hope this doesn't feel rushed. Past few days have been a bit busy but I'm glad I was able to get this out for you all! This series isn't over just yet

Previous Part|Next Part

It. Had. Been. Fucking. Weeks. You and Tara were still not talking. Geez you two were so stubborn. It was frustrating. At least it was for her friends. Tara would talk about you constantly which would make it even more frustrating for the people around her.

 Buying a drink? Y/N would like that

Watching a movie? Y/N loves this part

They needed you two to talk or else it was going to be the death of them. You were still not sure how to approach the whole thing. You definitely didn’t want to be the first to give in but you also couldn’t stand the distance. You missed her but no way could you admit that. 

Either she was going to give in or neither of you would ever talk again it seems. That was until you found yourself knocking on the younger Carpenter’s window.

Tara hadn’t gotten a message from you in weeks so you best believe when she saw your contact name appear on her phone she scrambled to get it. 

‘open your window’

Tara furrowed her eyebrows before turning to her window and seeing you outside. You gave a slight wave and gestured for her to open the window. She took out her headphones and did as asked. When you climbed in she stared you down. It was confusing, part of her knew exactly what to say and the other didn’t. 

“What are you doing here?” Was all she managed to get out. This caused you to let out a frustrated huff. She was acting as if you weren't totally ignoring each other for weeks!

“Just popping by. Was in the neighborhood so why not, right? Oh and while I’m here just wondering..what the actual fuck, Carpenter?” You catch Tara off guard, she definitely wasn’t expecting that.

“Excuse me?” You let out a laugh to her response before replying, you couldn’t believe her right now. 

“You heard me. How about we start off with that blow up from three weeks ago. What was that? Cause I’d really like to know” You cross your arms waiting for a response from the shorter girl.

She fiddled with her hands while trying to find her words. “I’m- sorry” Tara irritatedly sighed, being the first to give in. Her gaze met the floor so she didn’t see your amused smile. Tara took a seat on her bed and crossed her legs, still avoiding your stare.

“Still doesn’t answer my question but I’ll take it. And uh I guess I’m sorry too” You take a seat next to Tara, your hand lands in a spot that’s less than an inch away from hers.

“You weren’t the only one being a stubborn ass. The phone works both ways” She gives a small smile and finally looks up at you.

“How about a truce?” You propose. “A truce?” Tara repeats. 

“Correct, a truce. Next time we get into an argument-”

“I don’t want there to be a next time..” Tara interrupts, saying it so low as if she was scared for you to hear you.

“We’re human Tara, it’s bound to happen again” Your hand lays on Tara’s in an attempt to comfort her. “But how about when it does, next time we won’t just ignore each other for weeks at a time. We can give each other room but..” You look down,”That was too much room, Tar.” 

She looks at you in understanding and nods followed by an “ok.” Tara rubs your hand, signaling for you to look back at her. The Carpenter smiled when you finally met her gaze. 

You both stared at each other, her eyes fell to your lips as yours did the same to her. “I never told you why I lashed out that night” Tara started as you both slowly leaned closer.

“Oh yeah? And what about it” Tara tilted her head and leaned in closer, your lips were so close to touching. All you had to do was-

The door slammed wide open. “Tara! Check it ou- Oh sorry did I interrupt something?” Chad asked genuinely with a Nintendo switch in his hand. He had no idea you were even here. He thought Tara was just in here studying with her headphones in.

You and Tara had pulled away from each other quickly and shook your heads. “Nope we were just talking, what’s up?” Chad had finally finished the level he and Ethan have been trying to beat for months! You liked Chad. He was a cool dude and you even hung out with him sometimes.

You talked about a few things, Mario kart, football, Spider-man and the occasional random shit. He was also a pretty good wingman. But unfortunately he was as oblivious as you could be sometimes. A girl was flirting with you? Sure, go for it dude. A guy wanted to get to know you? That’s awesome! 

He’s the hype man everybody needs in life but he’d get so caught up in it that he didn’t notice the glares Tara sent him. Still confused as to why Mindy hit him in the shoulder when things like this happened. What’s wrong with being a supportive wingman? 

Mindy and Anika really need to sit him down and have him filled in on the two love birds. Even Ethan knew! 

—

A couple days have passed and you end up hanging out with Tara and her friends. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little nervous. You mostly just talked with Chad and sometimes Ethan since they were a package deal. Anika seemed nice but you were still nervous because you haven’t really talked much so you weren’t sure what she thought of you. 

Then there was her girlfriend, Mindy. Twin sister of Chad and much more intimidating. On the outside it should’ve been the opposite of that but for some reason you just got the hunch she didn’t like you. You knew she was a protective friend but you couldn’t help but wonder how that persuaded her thoughts of you. 

You were all sitting comfortably in the living room with a show playing, Tara on the couch while you laid between her legs. Your back faced her as you laid against her chest, her legs wrapped around you as she gently played with your hair. Pretty cozy for a couple of friends. 

“So,” Mindy spoke up. “You two made up?” Anika gave Mindy a look but the twin just shrugged. 

“Yeah. We’re good now” Tara answered so you wouldn’t have to. Mindy hummed in response. You and Tara weren’t one hundred percent sure where she was going with this but you knew she wasn’t done.

Before Mindy could interrogate any further your phone rang. “Who is it?” Tara asked curiously, you lifted it slightly to see who it was before turning off the ringer. “No one important. Just going to let it ring.” Tara replied with an unconvinced hum but didn’t press any further. 

Sam entered the apartment with take out in hand, “Hey guys.” Everybody responded with ‘Heys’ and ‘Hi’s’ before she sat the food down. “Got some food on my way home so eat up. I’m gonna head out in a few” Sam said before walking to her room. Okay..that was strange. She only sent a single glare and no snarky comment about you being over.

Must be warming up to me or just really tired you thought. Tara looked down to you, not wanting to move out of her current position. Oh how the turned tables. “Are you going to eat something?” She eventually asked. You only shook your head and continued to stare at the TV. She could wait to eat, she didn’t mind. Tara had gotten too used to you being in her arms. It gave her a feeling of warmth that was too good to let go of just yet. 

The two of you made up and you were finally back in her arms. Everything was back to the way it was before. Nothing could ruin this.

An hour had passed and you fell asleep on Tara, not that she was complaining. She held onto you and enjoyed having you there in her arms. Suddenly you start to open your eyes as you slowly start waking up.

“What time is it?” You ask tiredly while rubbing your eyes. “Eight forty-two” Ethan responded, causing you to scramble out of Tara’s arms. The action caused the younger Carpenter to furrow her eyebrows in confusion. “What’s wrong?” Tara asked, her tone laced with a bit of worry.  

“I’m late for a date but we’ll do a rain check!” You reply before rushing out the door leaving Tara to process what you just said. 

“What the actual fu-”

You had a what?!

-----------

[katz-rambles]

Hii!❤️

I hope you're having an amazing day!

Can I request a pure fluff with Sodo?🥺 Maybe something like where reader is shorter than Sodo and is insecure of her height so she gets mad everytime someone mentions it.

Thank you so much❤️❤️❤️ If you don't like the idea, feel free to ignore it☺️

The scream I just scrumpt. My first ask 😭. I love the idea, and I hope I'll do this justice! I hope you're having an amazing day, too, Anon 💗.

(fluff, comfort kinda?, swiss joining in on the teasing, mama bear Cumulus setting Sodo right, fem!reader, but it's not really specified. A mix of headcannons and a little ficlet?)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰

• We all know Sodo can be a bit of a dick sometimes, so he's going to jump headfirst at the chance to have someone shorter than him. Unfortunately, in this situation, that's you.

• He's relentless with his teasing 😭

• The worst nicknames EVER. Pipsqueak, vertically challenged, mouse, anything he can think of.

• If you're a sibling of sin and have to do a chore that involves something that's out of your reach, he tends to pick you up and lift you so you can complete whatever it is. And he has the stupidest look on his face when he does.

• But obviously, he may be a dick, but he cares for you. So he will not make fun of you, as much, as he did.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊

"Morning, pipsqueak." Sodo calls out to you, resting his arm on your shoulder. He looks at you with a smug grin that makes you want to punch him, right here right now. "You know, I was thinking, maybe I could buy you some of those vitamins people take to get taller. Like a height viagra." He snickers and takes his arm off you to ruffle your hair. You scoff at him and laugh. "You're barely taller than me. This is friendly fire." You fire back at him with an equally smug look. He opens his mouth to say something just to be cut off by Swiss. "She's right. You're both challenged, vertically. Shorties." Swiss laughs to himself as an angry Sodo chases after him.

You suck in a breath as he leaves, chewing on your bottom lip with nerves, or maybe annoyance, you don't really know at this point. All you can feel is the pit in your stomach. At the moment, you wish you had punched him.

A little later, the same situation happens again. You're going about your daily chores, cleaning, sorting, etc. "Almost done." You mumble to yourself, opening the doors to the library, rows on rows of books in many different languages, greet you. Sorting books isn't your favorite, but it has to be done. But, the top shelf just so happens to be out of your reach. You hear the door open, brushing it off as another sibling, just to be met with Sodo's hand placed on your head.

"Funny seeing you here." He sighs and shakes his head at you, and you feel your stomach drop. "All the other siblings can reach up here, I'm sure if you just stretch, you'll get it.. one day." He smirks at you triumphantly. When you don't respond with another comeback or a smack to try and get him away, he starts to shuffle behind you. "Just.. let me do what I'm supposed to do." You don't even try to meet his gaze this time, just backing away and leaving him alone, and now Sodo knows he's fucked up.

You've gone back to your room, and someone else can just as easily do the job. You're not sad or anything, but if you didn't leave, you would've thrown a book at his head. A knock on your door stops you from tearing your own hair out. You cautiously open the door to see Cumulus holding Sodo by the wrist. You're tempted to close the door before either of them can say anything to you. The anger builds. You're not necessarily mad at anyone in particular, more so yourself, even though you're aware you can't control your height.

"He's come to talk to you. Right, Sodo?" She glares down at him, a glare that sends shivers down your spine, and you're not even the one receiving it. A mumbled response from Sodo seems to satisfy her for the time being, so she lets him go places him in front of your door. Leaving the two of you alone.

"Whatever it is, I don't want to hear it right now, Sodo." You tell him your voice lower than usual. Before you can close your door, he places his foot in between the frame and the door.

"I didn't realize your height was such a.. thing.. for you." He sighs, his eyes begging for you to hear what he has to say. You open the door just enough so he can come in, and then you've closed it again.

"Listen, I'm sorry." He refuses to meet your eyes this time, awkwardly shuffling in his spot. "I didn't want to piss you off or anything, just some light teasing."

Before he can finish his thoughts, you sigh and shake your head. "Sodo, I'm not mad, not anymore, at least. I know it was all light fun, but I've never been a big fan of people talking about my height." You finally admit, watching him lift his head up and smile. He nods at you and looks back down at the ground, he kinda reminds you off a scolded puppy.

"Why don't we go out for a bit?" You offer, and he goes along. You're just glad that's been cleared up. That's just half, though. You're more so glad he'll stop pouting. It's almost making you feel bad. Hopefully, he'll take the teasing down a notch. But if he doesn't, you know Cumulus will beat some sense into him.

[spacequokka]

Tangled Up Knots

Pairing: Seonghwa x Reader Genre: e2f, one bed trope, a touch of angst Rating: PG-13 Summary: Turns out Seonghwa isn't entirely an asshat. Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: Language

A/N: Another title taken from a popular Christmas song? Do you know it?

It was supposed to be the perfect Christmas getaway--snowflakes dancing in the air, hot cocoa topped with whipped cream and cinnamon, and a cozy cabin in the woods with all your friends. But of course, life had other plans.

"Come on, _____. It's not as bad as you're making it out to be." Yunho shook his head as he stuffed the trunk with luggage. "With all of us there, you'll barely know he's there."

"Says you," you hissed as you helped him close the trunk. "No matter where we are or what we're doing, he always finds a way to get on my nerves."

"Are you sure some of the animosity isn't undeserved?" He turned to you with a poorly hidden smirk. "If he's done something bad to you, you would've told one of us by now, right?"

"He steals my snacks--"

"Besides the snack thing." Yunho waved his hand impatiently. "Hongjoong pays you back for those."

"It's not about the money. It's about the food. I buy those things so I can eat them, so I can enjoy them. Not him. If he wants them so bad, why doesn't he go buy them himself? Or have one of his family's maids go get them?" Mingi came up behind you and steered you towards the backseat of the car. "Everyone just shrugs of his asshat nature and it pisses me off."

"Come along now, pretty. We've got a long drive ahead of us." Mingi smiled knowingly.

You had a long history of bickering, mostly stemming from Seonghwa's annoyingly perfect attitude and tendency to steal your snacks. Even now, you could hear his playful laugh echoing in your mind, a sound that would warm your heart if you weren't too busy plotting ways to throw him out of a moving vehicle. You honestly couldn't see what qualities he had that made the others include him in their friend group. Maybe he was only a dick to you and a complete angel to them. Maybe he paid them off. Whatever the reason, you'd be stuck in a cabin somewhere on a mountain with him for three days.

Hopefully you had enough money in savings to cover bail should shit hit the fan.

The ride was just long enough to cool your head only for your temper to flare to life as the car parked. Hongjoong stood at the front door of the cabin, smiling and chatting with Yeosang and Jongho, with Seonghwa at his side watching Yunho's car. His eyes swept over everyone climbing out and came to a stop once he spotted you.

Then he fucking smiled. Bright as the sun with a hint of trouble.

Chimney smoke and pine filled the air, carrying that nostalgia of winters past as you got your suitcase and followed the others inside. Everyone gathered in the living room and used the fireplace to warm chilled fingers and faces. Hongjoong stood up and whistled, getting the group's attention.

"Okay, so this year there's a few more people than I'm used to housing. Which is no problem! However, I couldn't get a set of twin beds and had to settle for a queen size. That means someone's gonna have to share a bed." He waited until everyone was done reacting before adding, "We're drawing sticks to see which two that'll be."

Seonghwa held a cup with straws and went around the room, allowing everyone to draw. When he came to you, he smiled. "Hello there. Bring any of those pretzels?"

"If you touch them, I will break your hand." You matched his smile and hoped like hell the malice was clear.

"Like I haven't heard that before." He winked and went onto San.

Once everyone had a stick, you compared sizes. To your horror, you realized right away that your stick was shorter than the others. One by one, the group eliminated your potential partners and it wasn't lost on you that Seonghwa was still on the list. You were practically seething by the time it was clear he also had a short stick.

"There's no way in hell. Seriously?" You turned to Yunho who was already prepared to do damage control. "You know I'll kill him by morning comes. This is a setup."

"How?" Seonghwa cut in. "It was a random draw."

"You were passing them out. You had to have known which one I got."

"Oh, please. The world doesn't revolve around you. No one wants to share a bed with you that damn bad." Wooyoung started to raise his hand but Yeosang elbowed him in the ribs. "You can't possibly think I'd cheat to share a bed with you."

"Then switch with someone else. Anyone else!"

"That defeats the purpose of drawing sticks. I know I'm mature enough to act civil for a couple of nights. Are you?" He had that stupid smug look on his dumb face and for a second you felt like slapping him.

"Fine." You grit out through your teeth. "If I'm lucky you'll choke to death on your pillow in the middle of the night."

The cabin was nothing short of charming. Wooden beams overhead adorned with twinkling lights and garland and a roaring fireplace that crackled as a yule log burned. Yunho was right. Once everyone settled in and went off on their own, you didn't see much of Seonghwa again. As midnight came, you were lost in a game of Uno with Jongho, San, and Mingi. Your sleeping arrangement was the furthest thing from your mind as you watched San drawing cards with no hope of stopping.

"Oh, forget it! I quit!" He threw his cards down and Mingi fell over holding his sides as tears seeped from his eyes. "Why isn't there a limit on how many cards you have to draw if you can't play?"

"Oh," Jongho blinked at him, "There is if you play the quick version of the game."

"What the hell have we been playing?"

"Mingi's version."

"What?"

Mingi's laugh turned to a silent gasp for air as he clutched his stomach. "And…and you fell for it!"

You put your cards down. "Yeah, no. I'm calling it a night. This is why I play Uno once a year. No more." You stood and headed for your room. The charm of the cabin faded away when you stood in front of the single queen-sized bed. "This is ridiculous."

Seonghwa entered and flashed a smug smile. "How about we just don't talk?" He suggested casually as if sharing a bed was no big deal.

"Perfect," you shot back while tossing your stuff on one side of the bed like it was claiming territory in a war zone.

The night wore on like an awkward sitcom episode. You both tried to spread out but ended up lying stiffly on opposite edges of the mattress. The tension between you was palpable. Every rustle or sigh echoed through the small space.

"I can't believe this is happening," he finally said after what felt like hours of silence.

"You say that like you didn't do this yourself."

"I didn't! Honestly, it never occurred to me to mess with the sticks. Even if I did, how would I have done it? I had no idea which stick was which, much less that you drew a short one." He swallowed and something shifted in his expression. There was an odd vulnerability there that caught you off guard. "Besides that, I don't mind sharing with you."

You turned slightly toward him but kept your tone lighthearted despite the sudden burst of butterflies in your stomach. "Yeah? I'd say the same if you didn't steal my food."

He chuckled softly. "My aunt used to buy me those pretzels when I was little. When I first met you, I was too shy to ask where you got them. I've searched high and low for them but no one can tell me where to buy them. Not even online. So, I thought if I paid you for them through Hongjoong it'd be okay since you can just go get more." His brow furrowed. "Then I realized how mad you were getting about it so I paid more. Once you started hating me, I tried to stop taking them, but sometimes I miss her and I just…" His eyes met yours. "I apologize. For taking your food and upsetting you. I don't mean to be a jerk. It's easy to forget that what means nothing to me could mean everything to you."

Well, hell.

"How about this? I'll start buying an extra bag of pretzels whenever we hang out and you can just pay me for it." His eyes lit up. "Because I love them too and it kinda sucks to not eat them when I look forward to it when I get off from work."

"Deal! In fact, I'll send the money to you so you don't have to pay for them at all. For the pain and suffering of my taking them."

You nodded. "That works for me."

As one a.m. approached and snow continued to fall outside like confetti falling from some celestial party, you laid there quietly talking about everything from work to music preferences--your usual arguments morphed into playful debates filled with laughter instead of annoyance and thinly veiled threats. You were still enemies pretending to tolerate each other but maybe, just maybe, you'd found some common ground.

[asmo-d3us]

The Marauder’s Era characters as Uncles/Aunts

James Potter-Black - The Embarrassing Uncle

This man is giving that child ass loads of chocolate and sugar, and Regulus is watching from the side without a word.

Will hear the child fart and will start to tell everyone about what he heard without shame, thinking it’s something cute to say but it’s really not.

Will give you a 2 dollar bill because he thinks that makes him the cool uncle and that’s just even more embarrassing.

He will buy you a toy truck/a Barbie house when you’re 18 and think it’s cute because that’s what they played with “back in his day”.

Will pick you up from school and trip, grab the wrong kid, say hi to an old grandma and get whipped with her cane, cuss in front of a staff member, wear a cartoon t-shirt, etc.

Sirius Lupin - The Judgmental Uncle

Will talk about the wildest shit omd

He’ll be at a family gathering and start talking shit about everyone he can. “Yeah you know uncle Barty? Now, you know I’m not one to judge, but apparently his father whipped him because he fucked a man!” And Lily from 5 miles away is like, “SIRIUS BLACK THAT IS A CHILD!!”

Says the most out of pocket things, like it’ll be complete silence in the room and all of a sudden he says, “…I heard Marlene listening to Olivia Rodrigo, but the songs she made back in her Disney days-“

Remus repeatedly tells him to calm down with some of the shit he says because dear lord-

Was at a pool party once and Regulus got thrown in the pool and he went, “Poor boy can’t even swim, look at him he thinks he’s a mermaid…why’s he flapping around like that?”

Remus Lupin - The Wise ‘Old’ Uncle

Knows the weirdest facts? Like why does this man know how to hide a body (it helps uncle barty and evan at least?)? How turtles look like naked? What’s in outer space? How does he know we aren’t alone?-

Everyone comes to him for facts and studying and homework and he’s just a wise old man who looks younger than everyone else yet he’s smarter??

Will say some stupid quotes and speeches from books/theaters as ‘inspiration’ and he’d think he’s so wise and he just had a mic-drop moment.

Always tells Sirius to mind his own business and calm down yet he’s always being nosy and interrupting conversations with a new quote he heard.

Dedicates every single thing in life after something inspirational. This man is saying the goofiest shit like, “Oh c’mon don’t worry about those things! Hey, you know what I like to say? When life gives you lemons, make lemonade!!”

Peter Pettigrew - The Painfully Independent Uncle

He’s shorter than everyone else and people offer to help him when he’s reaching for the top cabinet but he always denies them bc one of the kids asked him for once.

Perhaps he’s independent because no one pays attention to him and that’s just what he’s used to.

Sorry.

Lily Macdonald-Evans - The Oversharing Aunt

No one knows why she shares so much about everything. She probably saw a poster that was looking for a missing dog and she’d talk to everyone about it.

This woman is yapping whenever she tells a story: “So I walked out of the house and I noticed the crunchy leaves and it reminded me of fall, oh did you know there’s a parade during fall? Crazy! Anyway, so I walked to a cafe and got my order and—WAIT so like the girl was really cute I asked her for her number, she was so sweet and so was the latte! Anyway--“

The type of aunt to order something with you and mention: “Yes that’s my order. I told ___ to order but they’re too embarrassed! Kids these days am’iright?”

Mary Macdonald-Evans - The Story Telling Aunt

This bitch be dropping some bomb ass lore every damn time there’s a family get together/gathering.

“When I was your age we used to go outside. There was this one time where I sliced my thumb in half when running! And then I saw the pope and he blessed me with a banana, and then I went back home and ate a knife—“

“You know, your aunt Lily murdered someone once—“ “did you know that uncle barty once beat me up—“ “uncle James ate 6 bees one time.” “I used to go outside and eat raw fish in the pond and I got salmonella. I could’ve died!”

Is making wild ass hand gestures at the table when telling a story and Lily repeatedly elbows her so she sits tf down.

Marlene Meadows-McKinnon - The unexplainably weird Aunt

Will sometimes approach you and smile at you for 5 minutes before walking away.

Will laugh at something so unfunny and will make a bored face when something is hilarious.

Will cut her finger and drink the blood and start hissing at everyone and will cackle to herself. People start feeling bad for Dorcas.

Will see a hot girl on screen and start barking and growling like a wild animal.

She’s just weird and the kids don’t get it, only the elders do.

Dorcas Meadows - The Artistic Aunt

Has thousands of tattoos that all mean something to her and it’s insane how many she has.

When you enter her house she has a whole room dedicated to her work and she does everything; painting, sketching, drawing, pottery, clay art, tattoos, piercings, etc.

Can look at your face and memorize literally every tiny detail.

Offers to do your tattoos/piercings when you’re older behind your parents’ backs because she gave ear piercings to all of the kids when they were little.

Regulus Potter-Black - The Stern Uncle

Won’t let you eat or drink anything sweet after 6 PM.

Will get upset when you sneak out or ditch school.

Very cold but when you know him very well you can tell his heart is made of gold—I mean seriously how can you think otherwise??? Uncle James is married to him!

Has favorites and allows them to do whatever they want. Will tell kids that if they don’t wash their hands the boogie monster will come and gut them. James told him to stop.

Barty Rosier - The Insane Uncle (duh)

Will casually announce to the whole table that he recently murdered someone. You would sit there in shock and look around the table, noticing that no one even batted an eye. Hell, uncle James asked him how it went!!

His and uncle Evan’s house is all dark and almost satanic. They have real skulls, blood and teeth in jars, they have a whole room filled with all kinds of weapons and body parts. You don’t know how they haven’t been caught yet.

They have a ‘plant’ room that they sell around.

For some reason he’s the best fucking uncle alongside evan and James bc he’s just so fucking funny and cool and chill and his kids are too and sometimes you wish they were your parents instead.

Right when you turn 18 he takes you out to make your ‘first kill’…and it’s not an animal. He also shows you how to defend yourself (if you’re a girl/weak especially), and shows you how to beat the shit out of someone.

Evan Rosier - The Crazy Uncle

Is the only one that manages to balance out barty.

Isn’t that crazy but whenever he is…it’s horrifying. (It turns uncle barty on for some reason?? Their kids hate it.)

Is so hot. Every time a friend is over they all fall in love with him. He notices this and he starts to feed their delusions. Every one hates it. You, Barty, and Sirius find it funny though!

One time he was so angry that he legit went out for a whole day, made Barty worried (which never happens), and came back 3 days later in the middle of the night drenched in blood and 50 murders circling the news.

Pandora does not support this behavior but evan got angry at her one time for bothering him about it and she let it go. They’re very stubborn which means he hasn’t apologized and she still brings it up to make him guilty.

Pandora Lovegood - The Adorable/Therapist Aunt

She’s just so whimsical and sweet and caring and nice and cute and pretty and and and

Always buys you crystals and spiritual things that she insists is very good for you and will protect you.

Surrounds herself with those blue eyes (?) to keep off bad energy.

Is covered in tattoos but they are small and meaningful.

Gives the best advice and her laugh is so fucking adorable.

She’s just here to show you that you belong, that you matter, and to include you in everything so you’re never left out bc she gets it. She’s the only one you can come to for anything.

[allwormdiet]

Arc 1: Gestation, Concluding Thoughts

Two days in the life of Taylor Hebert, with a bonus one night in the life of Danny Hebert. Let's break it down.

Right now, initial feelings are really positive. I like this arc, I get why people are in on this in such a hardcore fashion, like it's making sense to me as I'm reading it. The characterization is really strong, the A to B plot is cool, and the first fight scene was a fucking banger to open up with.

And like, shit, I get why Taylor is throwing herself into cape life, right? Civilian life is already such fucking misery for her, utterly alone and the only person who's theoretically in her corner is sympathetic but just as helpless as she is. Yeah sure, mortal peril, but if she had nothing to do I feel like the bullying would've killed her eventually. Death versus Lung is at least marginally more noble than death by Emma. And isn't that fucking bleak.

Looking ahead a little bit towards Arc 2 and I'm immensely curious how long it'll take Taylor to do cape stuff again. I feel like I'd need a solid month to process the whole "near death experience" thing and then spend time sweating over whether I even put the mask on ever again. Meanwhile I wouldn't be surprised if Taylor went back out in like a week, because she's a hardcore maniac.

It's also very interesting looking at this and considering the exact sequence of events that went through these chapters. If the bullies didn't wreck Taylor's notebook, or if Taylor took a different message away from its destruction, there might be one or more dead Undersiders right now, and to a lesser extent Armsmaster wouldn't both get credit for a major capture and also owe this rookie hero a favor. Both of those things are going to matter a lot, and it's, I dunno, some people would call that contrived but real life is so full of weird coincidence and happenstance I can buy this no problem.

...Honestly now I get why so many AUs that diverge before this point still include the Lung fight and the Undersiders and Armsmaster meetings, like yeah at that point it's contrivance but I'm not going to sweat an author too hard because they don't want to figure out how fucking dramatic the butterfly effect (hah, butterfly) would be on the rest of the story. Like yeah it's contrived, but that's a lot of work they'd have to do otherwise.

That aside, I'm gonna get back on topic and meditate on my current gripes. 1.3 was a legitimate low point in this arc with the description of the Docks and its residents and their circumstances, and the total clusterfuck of the Azn Bad Boys, which. By the by this is the last time I'm going to say the full name of that gang, ABB is shorter and is less embarrassing for everybody involved. Wall-to-wall racism, classism, and an utter lack of sympathy for the lesser-thans. Like we're talking about crack whores in the year of our lord 2011, or, they were written about in 2011 and I'm hollering about it on the internet in 2024. When this kind of thing comes back up (when, not if, I'm not that optimistic) I just hope I can work around it, like eating everything but the bruise on an apple.

To close this out, I'm thinking about the people in Taylor's life. Emma, a former friend turned bully, and her cronies Madison and Sophia. Pretty shallow characterization at this point, just that they're cruel to the point of hospitalizing their victim. Danny Hebert is supportive, but has all the strength of a sponge when it comes to holding up against the pressures that weigh on Taylor, and he knows it but he's not doing anything differently. The Undersiders, criminals who mistake Taylor for a criminal, but identify her correctly as a comrade and potential friend, who realize she was fighting for them and went to fight for her. Armsmaster, who offers her very genuine and very sought-after praise as an authority figure, and then leans on that authority to get what he wants out of a freshly traumatized and exhausted teenager.

Is it any wonder that Taylor takes the path that she does? Would anyone have it in them to be surprised if they could see all of this from a bird's eye view?

I wonder if Armsmaster ever thinks back about this night, lying awake in bed. If he ever wonders what he could or should have done differently, or if he couldn't have done anything to divert course.

I was talking to my girlfriend about something related to this the other night, actually. If it's worse in a tragedy for there to have been a chance to avert it all, or if it's worse for the end to be inevitable. Looking at Taylor, looking at Brockton Bay, looking at Earth Bet? I dunno. If someone had acted early, with knowledge and intention sufficient to actually provide aid, maybe it would've been enough, but hell. Maybe not. I don’t know which possibility is more damning.

...I get melancholy when it's late, but I don't think it'd be right to delete all that; it's how I'm feeling about the novel, and that's what this blog is for, so even if it's a bit dramatic it'd be self-defeating to pretend I didn't say it.

Arc 2... probably starts tomorrow, assuming nothing comes up. Glad to say I'm looking forward to it.

[lotusishere]

Why the hell are people in Shannon’s instagram comments complaining about the “woke agenda”? HELLO?!

Unraveled spoilers (that I found out)

We all know that the gay characters in unraveled are simply background characters. They are just people who are showing up and bumping into Keefe and having maybe like 1 or 3 lines if not LESS of conversation with him. Keeper of the Lost Cities is a fantasy book. A magical fantasy book that focuses on ELVES and the problems in their society. The elf world is supposed to be “better” than the human one by not having discrimination against skin color or race or gender norms. They’re suppose to be open. ON TOP OF THAT! there has been literally NO MENTION OF GOD in the series. From what we know the Elves don’t believe in God nor think about one.

Yet what pisses me off is that I’m looking at the comments and they’re all complaining how Shannon is taking away the Holy Life Style and putting an AGENDA in her book. WHAT?! If Shannon was as “woke” as people are making her to be in these comments. She would have BEEN had a queer couple, not as a side character, but in the main group. She would have been mentioned it and brought representation about it in the match making papers. She would have ALREADY had a queer kiss in the series. But she hasn’t. She mentioned gay people in 9.5 which is shorter than all the books btw. It’s also in Keefe’s POV when he’s exploring the HUMAN WORLD. What makes me more angry is that Shannon literally did the bare minimum. THE BARE MINIMUM!!!! And people are saying they’re not buying her book or refunding it because it’s going to “infect” their children. *eyeroll* I fucking hate people like that. Not to sound controversial but if you’re so “religious” why are you even letting your kid read about magic? Isn’t it witchcraft? Isn’t that a sin? I would have like to bring light to the fact that I’m religious as well. But nobody bats than eye at that. Nobody focuses on the violent actions in the books about children being tortured physically and mentally. No body talks about the HORRORS written in some of the fight scenes. Yet there’s one line about how Keefe sees a gay man and the crowd goes wild.

[ghostbeam]

empty til she fills | fuyumi todoroki x reader

You’re beautiful, really. It’s truly no wonder why they chose you for the job, every line and curve and fold. They’ll never be able to capture you the way you really are. Nothing compares to the real thing.

Her eyes gaze over your neck, down your chest, over your stomach, your thighs. That familiar hunger sits in Fuyumi’s stomach, aches in her jaw. She wants to bite you everywhere that she can, really make you bleed. But Fuyumi doesn’t feed from anything but animals, and it’s not like you’d satisfy her hunger anyway. She’s given up on that feeling a long time ago.

Notes: Hiiiii everyone!!! This is the first installment of vampire empire and it’s all about fuyumi!!! It’s much shorter than I thought, but when it was done it was done u know? I love her I think she should be allowed to go apeshit and drink blood and not hold back if she wants to!!!!!!! Let her fuck!!!!!! Anyways yeah thanks for reading!! (title from vampire empire by big thief) u can listen to the playlist for the whole anthology here! Also I made a Pinterest board!

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, f! reader, explicit content, dark content, angst for like the briefest moment, violence, vampires, detailed descriptions of blood and gore (on both reader and another person), murder (u kill someone! It’s offscreen tho), blood kink, biting, drinking blood (fuyumi drinks from reader, u both drink from the dead man), biting and drinking from already open wounds, fingering, oral (reader eats fuyumi out!!! Yay!!!) (bloody), bloody sex, reader is sort of a masochist, soooo many commas, a line completely stolen from fascination (1979) cause I had to ajsjsjsjs, perspective changes between u and fuyumi like a lot idk I’m sorry she spoke to me<3

words: 4.3k

Fuyumi has always been a little unsure of what to do with her hands. When she sits, when she walks, when she kisses, while she waits. Where does she put them? Where do they go?

It’s the same, squeezing porcelain clay through her fingers, molding and shaping and running a wire through the middle and cursing when it doesn’t topple over. She’s bad with her hands, but she loves it, lumpy mugs and all. 

And her mugs are lumpy, most of them break in the kiln, but whatever she’s proud of, she sends to her brothers. 

She’s never been much of an artist, and all the years she’s lived (many, many years), none of it ever interested her. But when you’ve done everything, there’s no harm in trying. And so even though her pots and bowls end up twisted and misshapen on the wheel, she tries and tries until they’re at least a little bit useful.

The truth is that there, in the studio, surrounded by people who do all the same things that she does, mess up and try again, break things when they don’t turn out, or smash fragile wet clay held together by careful hands, Fuyumi feels human. She makes mistakes. She screws up. It’s something she’s never been allowed to do before. 

Plus, you’re there. 

The anatomy class pays you to model. Sometimes, she sees you run around in your long robe, buying snacks from the vending machines or remembering something you left in your car. She’s completely enamored with you, with your humanity, how free you seem. She’s envious, in a way, but really she just likes you, wants you—wants to bite you. Which is dangerous for Fuyumi because she stopped feeding from humans ages ago. 

You collide on a Saturday night, left alone in the studio, separated by one wall. Fuyumi works late because she doesn’t sleep, and one of the owners of the building had given her a set of keys to lock up when she leaves. When she opens the door to the pottery studio, you’re out in the hallway, slapping your palm against the door next door and murmuring soft no’s as you peak through the glass. You have half a mind to just bust the thing down, except now you’re not alone in the hallway. 

Fuyumi. The pretty vampire with streaks of scarlet through her ivory hair, cute glasses perched on her nose, and hands you think about way more often than you should steps out of the pottery studio. You’ve caught her staring at you before, and you can’t tell if it’s because she knows of the similar condition you have in common, or if she’s as interested in you as you are in her. 

You both pause, caught staring at one another. The only thing on Fuyumi’s mind is that you’re probably completely naked under your robe. 

“I—um, got locked out.” You say, finally, blowing air you have no need for out of your throat like a breath. It must be nerves. “My clothes are in there. My everything is in there.”

“Oh!” She shakes her head free of the thoughts of your bare body. Then a realization, “I have a key!”

You move out of her way and let her unlock the door, jiggling the key in the lock and pushing it open. You grin, press your hands into her shoulders and let out a squeal of delight. “Thank you!”

“Yeah, no problem.” She speaks, willing herself not to melt at the feeling of your fingers digging into her flesh for a moment. She turns to leave, satisfied with the interaction, enough to hold her over for a lifetime, maybe. Your hands on her shoulders, your robe against your skin, your neck. 

“Fuyumi!” You call, and she feels like maybe she’s dreaming, or maybe she’s hearing things. But when she turns around, you’re looking at her expectantly. “Would you wait for me? I don’t really wanna walk to my car alone at night.”

It’s a good excuse, you think. Fuyumi’s got that bleeding heart (or lack of one). She won’t leave you alone. 

“‘Course! Yeah, I’ve gotta lock the front, anyways, so—yeah, I’ll wait.” She nods, stepping back into the room and letting the door fall shut behind her. She watches you untie you’re robe at the middle, and she spins on her heel, facing the door again. She hears you chuckle, and it makes her feel a little silly. You’re naked for, like, four hours every day. It’s not like you would care if she watched. 

But Fuyumi cares, because she doesn’t want to see you naked for the first time like that. She doesn’t want to see you naked and know she won’t be able to touch you. 

“Okay, you can turn around, now.” You speak now that you’re dressed. She turns and you walk toward her, locking elbows. She leads you outside, locks the door with your hand against her arm like she’s yours, and walks you to your car. 

“Guess I’ll see you next week.” She tells you, pulling away from you to walk to her bike. You call her name and it’s deja vu.

“Do you want to go get coffee?” You ask, stopping Fuyumi in her tracks yet again. She turns.

“It’s eleven o’clock at night.” Fuyumi says like an idiot. 

“I just—I wanna keep…hanging out.” You say, and well, so does Fuyumi. Of course, she does. “Your bike’ll fit in the trunk. I’ll drive you home after.”

So, she says yes, stuffs her bike into your trunk with the back seats folded down, and ducks into your car. 

You drive like a maniac, and you listen to your music way too loud, and Fuyumi hopes she doesn’t look as terrified as she feels despite knowing she can’t die in a car accident. But you can, she thinks, so yea, she’s terrified. And you drive like this all the time?

But you both make it in one piece, skirting into the parking lot of a diner with a yellowing neon sign out front. Everyone knows you inside, greeting you with happy smiles and asking you questions about your life, details Fuyumi hopes to know after tonight. 

You take her to a booth in the corner, sliding in next to her instead of across, thighs pressed up against each other as a waitress brings you both a mug of hot coffee. You order apple pie with ice cream, and Fuyumi envies the fact that you’re even able to eat it. Since becoming a vampire, she’s lost any appetite for anything that isn’t blood. 

“So, when were you turned?” You speak, licking vanilla ice cream off the back of your spoon, head resting on you fist as you stare at her. If Fuyumi had a working heart it would be beating out of her chest right now. “I don’t think you’re all that old. You actually seem pretty young. Tell me, maybe in the mid nineties, early two-thousands?”

Fuyumi opens then closes her mouth, unsure of what to say. How could you have possibly known (besides the fact that you got the decade way off)?

“I was turned in ’87 by an old boyfriend who couldn’t control himself.” You shrug, revealing the information like you hadn’t just told her that you, the little human she’s been so fascinated by lately, are a vampire. 

“You’re a vampire.” She says—a statement—not a question, because of course, you’re a vampire. 

“You didn’t know?” You ask, softer. She shakes her head, stares at the booth in front of her. She feels your fingers underneath her chin, and she’s not sure how she never noticed it before, but you’re hands are freezing. She lets you guide her to look at you. “Hey, are you okay? Did I freak you out?”

And it’s not that you’re a vampire. It’s not even that you’re a vampire that she was convinced was human. It’s that she wanted to bite you, wanted to feel that pop and gush, drink from you what’s not actually even being pumped through your body anymore, blood that’s lying dormant in your veins. And the thing is, she still wants to. 

“I think I’m just shocked.” She speaks, willing herself to calm down, accept the situation, adapt. “I haven’t met another one of us here in town. It’s new, but it’s…good. I’m actually a little excited about it.”

“You don’t sound excited.” You observe, letting your hand fall to her thigh. 

“I am—no really. I am.” She grins, leaning toward you. “How come you can eat real food?”

You think maybe she still hasn’t processed everything yet, the smile on her face a little unnerving. And there’s something in her eyes, raw, dangerous, hungry. It makes you shiver. “I never lost the appetite.”

“It tastes good to you?” 

“So good.” You nod, unknowingly moving a little closer. Two girls pressed up against each other in a booth in a dark corner. Two vampires. Two monsters. 

You’re there later than either of you expected to be, fingers intertwined, hands brushing away stray hairs, and words whispered against ears, tucking your face into her neck when you laugh at something inappropriate. 

When you leave, Fuyumi tugs on your hand, interlocks two fingers as you walk to your car. You drive just as bad, but she doesn’t think she minds it this time. To die by your side, and all that. 

When you drop her off at home, you scribble your number on her wrist with a green glitter gel pen and resist the urge to do something drastic like kiss her or invite yourself in. 

Fuyumi realizes she’s left her bike in your trunk, her only mode of transportation to the studio besides walking. She eyes the green glitter on her skin and opens her phone. 

left my bike in ur car:/ pick me up to go to the studio tmrrw? Read 2:22am

be there at 10 sent 2:24am

u can sit in on my class sent 2:25am

…

She does sit in on your class the next morning. You hold her hand and show her where to sit, a view of both the artist’s sketches of you and the actual you draped over a couch. It’s probably inappropriate to sit there all horny in the middle of this art class, but you won’t stop looking at her. You know exactly what your doing, mimicking the rise and fall of your chest like you’re breathing when she knows you’re not. 

You’re beautiful, really. It’s truly no wonder why they chose you for the job, every line and curve and fold. They’ll never be able to capture you the way you really are. Nothing compares to the real thing.

Her eyes gaze over your neck, down your chest, over your stomach, your thighs. That familiar hunger sits in Fuyumi’s stomach, aches in her jaw. She wants to bite you everywhere that she can, really make you bleed. But Fuyumi doesn’t feed from anything but animals, and it’s not like you’d satisfy her hunger anyway. She’s given up on that feeling a long time ago.

When the class ends, Fuyumi leaves to make more misshapen mugs, taking a few out of the kiln she thinks she’ll give to you. As the sun sets, both of you get ready to leave, and you’re at the door to the pottery studio by the time Fuyumi is done cleaning her space. You’re a little disappointed you missed watching her on the wheel, her pretty hands shaping the clay like you’ve seen her do many times before. You knock on the door frame, and she looks up at you, grins. Her hair is tied up, pieces of hair falling over her face, her cardigan falling down and exposing her right shoulder. You can’t get over how pretty she is, a little messy.

“Hi.” You speak.

“Hey. You ready?” She asks, throwing her bag over her shoulder and walking towards you. You always want to watch her walk towards you—never away.

“I’m ready.” You nod, intertwining your fingers with hers when she makes her way towards you. You drive Fuyumi to your house, your arm over the console and your hand on her thigh. 

Your place is small, really just big enough for you. The walls are a mauve color that Fuyumi decides she likes, tiny star shaped twinkle lights hang over each window instead of curtains, a bundle of violets stuffed inside a beer bottle sit on your coffee table, books and dvd’s and records all stacked against one another with what seems to be no sense of organization in your bookcases. It’s really not much for a vampire.

She sets her tote bag carefully on the counter, red and white checkered, pulling two of her signature misshapen mugs from inside. One painted blue with tiny yellow stars and the other lined with terribly drawn strawberries. 

“These are for you.” She tells you, turning to face you as you’re bent over your stereo, looking for a station you like. Bits from the past stick with you like a refrigerator magnet. Fuyumi wants to remember the look on your face when you turn around and see her gift for the rest of her life. 

“I love them!” You gush, rushing over to pick both of them up. “They’re perfect. One for me, and one for you. We’ll drink blood from them with our pinkies up and cheers to LeFanu.”

Fuyumi laughs, says nothing about the blood. “I’m glad you like them.”

You turn around, opening one of your cabinets open with a finger, setting the mugs down on the counter and moving two snoopy holiday mugs on one shelf towards the back. You set the gift down in their place and wave a hand over it like your presenting them on a gameshow, “I’ve replaced the snoopy mugs with them. That’s a big deal, you know.”

“I’m honored.” Fuyumi grins, moving around the counter to stand near you. 

“You should be.” You lean a little closer to her, let her hand brush against your hip, hook her fingers in your belt loops. You nudge your nose against hers, and she takes that as a sign to kiss you. 

Chapped lips meet yours, hungrier than you expected, much less soft than the girl before you. There’s a burning in your gut, her hands, those hands you’ve payed so much attention to, pressing into your hips, pulling you flush against her front. You let out a moan when she swipes her tongue against your lip, your bodies pressing closer and closer like you’ll become one person. She moves her leg in between your thighs, pressed up against you, and your mouth falls open in a gasp, one she wastes no time taking advantage of, all tongue and teeth, all her, her, her. 

The two of you end up on your couch, unable to make it to the bed. If you had to wait any longer, you think maybe you’d both explode. She eats you out, there in your living room, makes you come three times in a row, familiar hungry eyes never stray from your own. 

…

She doesn’t talk about the vampire thing. Ever. She goes quiet when you bring it up, busying herself with something else like washing the dishes in your sink or trying to find something to watch on tv. You mostly let it go because you know Fuyumi. You know how fascinated she is by humans, how she envies them, how that envy and fascination is the very reason you’re together now. 

And maybe it should hurt you, the fact that believing you were human was the one reason she’d been so interested. But you know her, bleeding unbeating heart and all, she loves you. She loves you and your monster, she just doesn’t love her’s.

It’s difficult to drag the body through your house alone, vampire strength being something you hadn’t been blessed with once you’d turned all those years ago. Fuyumi sent you a message that she’d be at the studio late and would probably just end up going home instead of coming over. You figure you have time to drain this guy of all he’s worth, pack him up into little tupperwares in your fridge and be done with him by morning. 

You’ve done this a million times before, dragged a body out to your back yard, fed from it until your satisfied before saving the rest. It’s enough to last you a couple of weeks. It’s a good system. 

You don’t hear the sliding door open, you just hear Fuyumi say your name. You look up at her, blood on your mouth, your neck, your hands, fangs poking out underneath your top lip. You’re sure you look terrifying, but it’s the look on her face that scares you. 

It’s disgust, and betrayal, and anger. It’s tears welling up in her pretty, gray eyes and her mouth falling open and closed at the sight of you. 

But Fuyumi, well, Fuyumi wants to join you. It’s taking everything in her not to fall to her knees and sink her teeth into the neck of this possibly innocent man. She wants to drink and kiss you, and drink, and touch you, and then drink some more, this time from your neck. But Fuyumi doesn’t kill for blood, and she thought that neither did you. 

“I can’t believe you.” Her words are quiet. If you both hadn’t been outside on a completely silent night, you don’t think you would have even heard her. 

“Fuyumi…” You begin, standing up from where you’d previously crouched down, blood on your hands falling against the concrete in sticky splatters. She takes a step back like she’s scared of you. 

“You killed him.”

“Fuyumi,” another step.

“Stay there.” You stop. It’s not supposed to be like this. She’s supposed to love you. She does love you. You have to tell yourself that. 

“I’m a vampire. What did you expect? This is who we are.” You try to explain. 

“It’s not—it’s not who I am.” She shakes her head, flashes of red appear behind her eyes, the teeth of her brothers, her hands covered in blood the same way yours are now. Laughing, hollering, arms tangled together, the last time they’d all been with each other, the last time they were happy. 

“It is. It is who you are. Fuyumi, you’re starving.” Your words seem to do something to her, her mouth falls closed. A decision is made, and her feet take her closer and closer to you and the body on the floor. 

She wraps her hand around the back of your neck, thumbs through the blood you’re covered in and kisses you. She licks the blood on your lips, moaning from either your tongue or taste, you’re unsure. You pull her close, blood smearing against her white t-shirt. She pulls away from your lips, kissing your jaw and your neck, poking her tongue out to lick up the mess. You place your hands on her cheeks, pulling her back to look at you. 

“Come here.” You whisper, pulling her down as you crouch to the ground. “I want you to drink—I want to share.”

She lets you pull her down, taking your hand in hers, slippery, slick. You move away from his neck, leaving it open for her, urging her. This is what she wants. There’s something about drinking from your bite in the man’s neck. You’ve been here, you’re bite is her bite is her blood. 

And, god, is it delicious. She drinks, lets it fall down her throat in large gulps, dripping down her chin and neck. A sound escapes her throat, guttural, everything she’s deprived herself of having, here in between her teeth. She watches you while she drinks, eyes looking up through white lashes, reaching a hand out to hold you by the wrist, grounded. She pulls away, heaving, even though she has no need for breath. Her lips, saturated in red, begging to be tasted.

“You’re beautiful like that,” You speak, squeezing her hand, “with his blood on your mouth.”

She kisses you, all tongue, her fangs catching on your bottom lip. She pulls away and pushes you down, lets you bite the other side of the dead man’s neck, pets your hair as you drink. It goes on like this for a while, kissing, drinking, touching, whispers of please and oh, god and both of your names over and over until you’re a jumbled mess of words and sounds and blood and guts. 

You stumble, half naked through the door, Fuyumi’s hands and lips all over you. You don’t make it to the bed, a habit the two of you have seemed to form, falling down on the hardwood, limbs all tangled. With her shirt already discarded outside, you thumb the hooks of her bra open, throwing it to the side. Blood has dripped from her throat down between the valley of her breasts, and you lick it up, feeling her back arch as she hovers above you. 

She kisses your neck, almost frantic. Her fangs brush against your skin like she might sink into you, but she doesn’t, just kisses you so sweetly. 

“Can I bite you, please?” She moans. “I need to—I’ve wanted to—”

“Yes.” You interrupt her, throwing your head back against the floor and baring your neck to her. She wastes no time sinking her fangs into your flesh, blood pouring into her mouth. Coppery and sweet, a hint of licorice and cherry—Fuyumi thinks she can’t get enough. You gasp, hands grabbing at her waist, fingers digging into her sides enough to leave a mark. You’ve never felt pain like this, all agony and bliss. 

She smiles at you, bloody, when she pulls away. A part of you is her’s now, nestled between her ribs, living in her stomach. You taste yourself on her lips, hands pulling at her jeans, your leg moving between her thighs to grind against her cunt. 

You flip her onto her back, sucking on her neck, venturing down her body. You pull her jeans from her legs, along with her underwear, spreading her legs. She’s so wet, thighs sticky with arousal as you run a finger through her folds. A whine escapes her lips as you thumb over her clit. With your eyes on her, you press your tongue to her entrance, watching how her face contorts in pleasure. It reminds you of the way she’d stared at you while drinking from the man, hand clutched to your wrist, not once daring to look away, With one hand, you reach up to do the same, bloody fingers circling her wrist as you devour her. 

She writhes, arching her back and grinding against your face, a mess of slick and blood pooling in your mouth as you bring her closer and closer to orgasm. 

“Please!” She cries, “please! Oh my god!”

Her moans only spur you on as you speed up the movement of your tongue, squeezing her wrist as you let her move her hips against your mouth. She comes with a strangled cry of your name, legs shaking around your head, falling limp against the floor as you lick at her swollen clit. You pull away, rising from your place in between her thighs to hover over her.

“Like that?” You ask her, placing soft kisses against her jaw. She manages a soft mhm before moving her face to kiss you.You run your hands up and down the sides of her body, “so pretty…”

“Let me touch you.” She begs, pushing herself up onto her elbows. You nod, letting her maneuver you so you’re on your back again. She kisses you again, swirling her tongue against yours, tasting herself. In a way, part of her is yours now, too.

She slips her hand into your underwear, gasping at the feeling of how wet you are. You take the opportunity to lick into her mouth, moaning against her lips as she slips two fingers inside of you. She pulls away from your mouth and eyes the open wound on your neck. You lock eyes with her, nodding in approval, allowing her to bite you again. 

She bites and curls her fingers inside you at the same time. A choked scream escapes your throat at both sensations. You move your hips as she pumps her fingers in and out of you, her throat bobbing with each drink she takes from you. It’s overwhelming, and so satisfying, being the consumed for a change. 

Her thumb brushes over your clit and you jolt, gripping her waist as she brings you closer to the edge. 

“Kiss me!” You cry, “Fuyumi!” 

She pulls away from your neck, watching how the blood flows from the wound, continuing her movements against your pussy. You pull her down to kiss you as you come from her fingers. You’re both moaning against each other, passing your blood between your tongues. She pulls her hand from between your legs, stares at the pink-tinted slick and how it webs between her fingers before wrapping her lips around her fingers and sucking them clean off. 

She smiles down at you, hair a mess, glasses-less as they’d fallen off much earlier. You press your palms against her cheeks, admiring her. This Fuyumi is hungry, and bloody, and the furthest thing from human. You love her like this. You’ll be her’s forever, if she’ll have you. 

You pull her into the shower with you, washing the blood from her hair and her back, taking turns and watching the blood swirl down the drain. She cleans the wound on your neck, and places a bandage over it, though you know it’ll be healed by morning. You place her glasses back onto her face. The two of you fall into bed, finally, arms and legs tangled together, huddled closely. She rubs over the bandage on your neck. 

“Next time, I wanna bite you, okay?” You ask, nudging your nose against her. She lets out a laugh you’re excited to hear for the rest of your immortal life and nods. 

“I can’t wait.”

[l8rs-gat0rs]

You're legit the only Eva writer, so I have a cute, fluffy request of the girls helping Eva ask reader out because she's scared of being rejected. I love your work btw, i literally stalk you to make sure i didn't miss anything

The Golden Window

Pairing: Eva x Female reader

Warning(s): none, just Eva overthinking and gallons of fluff, quite a bit of y/n use at first. Sorry if the POV situation is weird, I couldn't get a solid gage of what the POV would be, this is the closest fit.

Summary: Eva turns to the girls for some help telling you that she likes you, but it doesn't go as planned...

Word count: 1.1k

WHAT THE HELLLL. I AM SO HONORED. I have an account stalker :') Ugh no but fr, you're so sweet and thank you so much, I'm always over the moon when people tell me that they like my writing, because it's something I'm genuinely passionate about and love to share. So I hope you like this one too :)It's a bit shorter than my usual fics. (I am so sorry for making you wait literal months for this oh gosh)

PSA: I am giving my editor a break so this is lowkey not edited as great as usual. I apologize if there are any mistakes😭

~~~~Happy Reading!~~~~

Eva sat at the kitchen table, nervously twiddling her fingers distractedly, staring at nothing.

"Eva...Eva!?"

Suddenly her attention snapped to the person in front of her, whose hands were waving in her face.

"Oh shit, sorry Cricket, what's up?" Eva said apologetically.

"What's on your mind? We're usually the ones who are all in our heads" Cricket chuckled.

Eva cringed at the thoughts currently going through her head.

They were all about you, of course.

come onnnn, spit it outttt Cricket urged.

"well... I like..." Eva sighed, she was usually the one helping the other girls with their emotions, but ironically she was struggling with her own emotions.

Cricket put her arm on Eva's shoulder

"Hey, it's alright" She said softly

"I like y/n." Eva said suddenly.

Eva stared into cricket's eyes for a moment as Cricket said nothing.

"Well, we all like y/n..." Cricket said.

"Cricket!" Eva slapped cricket's arm causing the other woman to laugh.

"I'm just fucking with you! okay okay so, what's the problem with that?" Cricket asked curiously.

"I-" Eva cut herself off, frustratedly running her hands through her hair.

"I'm scared to ask her out" she slapped her hands onto the table.

Cricket looked at her and held her chin in her hand as her elbow rested on the table.

"I think this is a job for the group" Cricket smiled.

...

"okay girls, I have gathered you all here today because-"

"Where is y/n?" Salem spoke up.

"I was just getting to that, if you would let me continue Salem" Cricket said with strained politeness.

"oh okay, sorry" Salem said sheepishly.

"As I was saying, I sent y/n out for some groceries because we need to help Eva with something. Cricket continued

all the girl's turned to stare at Eva, who blushed embarassingly.

"we are gonna help Eva here confess her feelings to y/n"

the girls gasped and Eva even heard one "I knew it!"

"okay okay, settle down!, settle down!" Cricket yelled over the women's voices, causing them to quiet down.

"Eva, you have the floor" Cricket continued when it was quiet once again.

Eva cleared her throat and addressed the girls.

"Alright guys so, as Cricket says, I have a crush on y/n... and it's eating me up inside that I don't know how to tell her because I'm scared she doesn't feel the same way."

a few "awwww"s were heard from the girls before Salem spoke up once again.

"I think you should do something big, like maybe buy her chocolates and flowers and leave a letter for her that tells her to go to the garden and then you tell her there" Salem said with a dreamy smile.

"um, no you idiot, y/n will hate that" Isis scowled at her.

"hey, Isis! Eva chided causing Isis to look back at her.

"that wasn't nice, Salem's idea was good" Eva scolded Isis

"apologize to her."

"fine. I'm sorry Salem" Isis rolled her eyes.

"I accept your apology, and forgive you for the harm you have caused" Salem responded tightly.

"Good, but that being said, Salem, even though your idea was good, I also don't think y/n would like that" Eva said gently.

"what if you did it during one of your sessions?" Audrey spoke up.

"No, I can't do that, the session are for you guys and your feelings, I'm not going to make it about my feelings." Eva shook her head.

"I think you should just flat out say it to her some time. Pull her to somewhere private and just speak your feelings to her. That's what you always teach us" Cricket spoke up from Eva's side, uncrossing her arms and placing a hand on Eva's shoulder.

Eva looked at her and smiled a little.

"yeah you're right. Fear is an emotion that I can persevere through as long as I speak my truth." Eva smiled.

"That's the spirit! Right girls!?" Cricket asked the girls sitting in front of them.

A chorus of "yeah!"s and "Yeah! just tell y/n you like her!" could be heard.

Suddenly there was a loud bang and all the girls were startled into silence as they turned to see what had made the noise.

There, standing in the arch leading into the living room was y/n, mouth agape, staring at Eva. She had dropped the bag of groceries she was carrying.

The silence that filled the room was deafening and Eva could practically hear the blood rushing through her body.

Eva was the first to speak up though.

"um, girls, can you uh..." Eva started

before she even finish her sentence, the girls were already quickly getting up and leaving the room. Cricket picked up the bag of groceries and finally left, Eva and you alone.

"Would you sit down please?" Eva said softly, gesturing to the couch.

you nodded and took a seat in front of her before she moved to sit next to you, causing you to turn towards her.

"how much did you hear?" Eva cringed.

you smiled a little,

"I heard enough. 'tell y/n you like her!'" you said in a teasing voice.

Eva put her face in her hands and groaned causing you to giggle a little before gently removing her hands from her face to see her red face.

you looked into her blue eyes that you always seemed to get lost in.

"hey, it's okay" you whispered gently.

Eva found herself getting lost in your warm brown eyes as well.

"it's just that... i don't know, I didn't expect to tell you this soon, I was going to plan it in my head" Eva explained, looking away, feeling embarrassed.

you were silent for a moment, and as Eva was about to turn her head back to you, you took the liberty of doing it yourself, grabbing her chin and connecting your lips to hers.

Eva was surprised at first, but quickly returned the kiss.

Once the two of you separated, you smiled brightly.

"Now are you ready to tell me?" you smirked.

Eva laughed before responding,

"yeah that definitely helps"

"well?" you urged her on.

"y/n, I like you" Eva said with a smile.

"I think you have my answer" you giggled.

"I don't know, I think I need your answer again" Eva said with faux confusion.

You laughed, causing her to do the same as you smacked her gently.

you kissed her once again, reveling in the feel of her soft pink lips that you could never seem to keep your eyes off of.

When you pulled away again, you pressed your forehead to hers and smiled.

"I like you too Eva"