#loser!reader

[overflowingteacupoflove]

loser!reader moodboard!

(thank you to @oopsiedaisydeer for the tweet!)

no taglist because it's nothing we haven't seen before‼️

[maryangelex]

loser!reader x simon riley

loser!reader who’s hired by lasswel to help price with the immense amount of paperwork that he never gets to. who’s assigned to sit pretty at the beaten desk outside of his office. but I like the idea of reader not being the typical “sexy assistant” but more like loser girl frumpy sweater and thick rimmed glasses type of assistant who still gets these Kyle and Johnny riled up working extra hard and making dorks out of themselves trying to woo you but you’re just too oblivious to men’s advances. not simon though, he’s the one that’s the most awkward yet somehow effective? you get hired and on your first day, as you acclimate to your office with your matching pastel supplies that you so delicately organize across your desk to give this t-filled office a feminine touch, one by one the boys drop off their report files at your desk to be revised and handed over to price. the first one’s Kyle, who showers you in compliments that go way over your head, “sargeant Garrick sure is polite!” Is all you really think of it; kinda frustrating for him. the next one coming over is Johnny, who hands you his files with his eyes eating you up like you’re a bar of chocolate. Johnny makes you feel um, intimidated? it’s the way he’s got that look in his eyes that feels like he’ll eat you whole, like he’s got X-ray vision staring right through that bulky knitted sweater. It makes your cheeks turn beet red in embarrassment when he makes comments and one-liners to get you worked up. the last one to visit your desk that first day caught you off-guard. while you were turned around alphabetizing the manila folders in the file cabinet behind you, you turned around to the large apparition of a skull-faced man that might as well have been a hallucination because 2 seconds ago he was not there and a man that size should be impossible to go unnoticed. your heart jumps and gets caught in your throat when you turn around and see him; dark and massive and the only visible human feature in him are the dark brown eyes behind that mask. you greet him politely through a stutter as you return to your seat, and all he responds with is an extended arm with the reports in hand. you mutter a thank you, your throat constricted, and what you get in return is a grunt before he turns on his heels and disappears down the hallway.

you’re scared shitless of that man on your very first day.

little did you know, simon’s face under the mask was scarlet red and flushed hot the second he saw your innocent glimmering eyes behind your skewed frames, making him unable to get a word out and having no other option but to retreat.

[bedfordxcx]

Keep it cool. | Spencer Reid

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Pairing: Post prison!Spencer Reid x Fem!Loser!Reader (I did try to make it as gender neutral as possible but I do believe some Fem slipped through the cracks.)

Synopsis: In which Loser!Reader works a case with the team, including a specific Doctor you're almost creepily in love with.

Word count: Around 2.2k

Warnings: Reader knows far too much about Spencer, mentions of death and crime scenes, I think that's it!

A/N: Introducing Loser!Reader, yippee! Although, there's not alot of the loser vibes in this (I do have a vision for the future though, comics hint hint.) Might make a vision board for you guys to see where I'm going.

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Joining the BAU is terrifying.

But for you, it isn’t the crime scenes or even the murderers. You’ve been an introvert your entire life, the sort of person who spends more time in fictional worlds than the real one. Friends? None. Social skills? Practically nonexistent. A loser in every way that counts. The very idea of interrogating suspects, chatting with local officers, or presenting your theories in front of a room full of people makes you want to curl up under your desk and pretend none of it exists.

So why do you stay?

For him.

Spencer Reid, the man who occupies every corner of your mind and whose name is scrawled obsessively across your journals. One look at him on your first day—gangly frame, untamed hair, lips that always look half a second away from darting into a fact-filled ramble—and you’re doomed. Completely and utterly bewitched.

Even the way he refuses your handshake that first day, with an explanation about pathogens, leaves you spellbound. It isn’t normal, but then again, neither are you. From that moment on, you find yourself obsessed.

You’re beyond gone.

When Spencer is sick, you swear you can feel the congestion in your own chest. When he takes time off to visit his mother, you stare at his empty desk, imagining his hands rifling through files, the ghost of his pen against paper.

Every moment revolves around him. You don’t just daydream about him; you study him. You memorize his mannerisms, his voice, the way he moves. It isn’t healthy—not by a long shot—but the more you try to pull yourself away, the more tightly you cling to the idea of him.

Now, as Hotch drones on about the case, his voice is just background noise. It isn’t important. Not compared to the gentle, rhythmic breathing coming from Spencer.

And then it happens.

The all-too-familiar snapping of fingers in front of your face, followed by Emily’s teasing voice. “Hello? Earth to Agent Daydreamer?”

Stupid Emily. Always ruining your (non-existent) moments with Spencer.

You blink slowly, your gaze drifting toward Emily as you come to.

“Hm, what?”

You clear your throat awkwardly and look down at the table, avoiding her eyes.

“I... I was listening, definitely.”

You glance at Spencer, making sure to memorize the highlights of his face, the way the button of his nose sits a bit brighter than the rest of his features. You’ll definitely write about that in your journal later.

Before blinking away and staring down at the file in front of you on the table, though your cheeks are flushed from lying.

“And—I—I asked you to stop calling me Daydreamer...”

“Uh huh.”

Emily’s lips tug into a knowing smirk. There’s something almost cruel in the way she looks you over, like she knows, but you quickly shake the thought out of your head.

Get it together.

Just then, Hotch’s voice disrupts the teasing (thank god). “Wheels up in five.” You’re not surprised the team was called in to take this case. Three women, all with dark hair and petite frames strangled to death with no solid evidence linking the cases aside from the MO.

Emily nudges your shoulder. “Ready?"

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The trip is uneventful at first. Hotch briefs you on the plane, and you do your best to listen with Emily’s teasing glances and Spencer’s fidgeting hands in view. You jot down notes about the case, but most of your attention is directed toward the man across the aisle. He’s wearing a sweater-vest today, the fabric accentuating the lines of his body.

You start to wonder what it would be like to feel his frame under your hands, to trace the curve of his waist, to kiss your way up to his Adam’s apple.

Your stomach flutters as you watch him. Is it too much? Do your stares linger a little too long? Do you look like a creep when you spend hours daydreaming about the feel of his hair or his skin?

Yes, you think, you certainly do.

But you can’t stop. Not when he’s there, right in front of you, so close and yet so far away.

He looks up, glancing around as if he feels your eyes on him, and you turn quickly back to your notebook, pretending to take notes.

“Where do you think he gets his coffee?”

Emily pulls you from your thoughts, the rest of the team still discussing the case in the background. The plane is dimly lit, the soft hum of the engines creating a soothing white noise. You’ve been staring out the window, eyes locked on the setting sun while your mind worked overtime, imagining all the ways you could make Spencer love you.

JJ arches a brow. “Who?”

“Reid, idiot.”

“Oh! The, uh... the café two blocks away from Quantico—they sell coffee beans for home use as well as the, well, drinks the baristas make..." You mumble, not realizing it might be a little weird that you know such specific details about him.

Why does Spencer drink his coffee black? Is it for the taste, or is it because it keeps him sharp? Maybe it’s routine. Maybe it’s just his preference. Either way, you have that fact on a page in your journal, labelled "What Spencer Likes."

JJ laughs softly. “You think you know him that well, huh?”

But Emily just nods, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “You know, I could see it. And I bet he has a little home espresso machine, too.” She smirks, glancing over to Spencer as he continues to talk, his hands flying as his tone grows more and more passionate.

“You know how he likes his coffee?” Derek’s smile is wide, and you can see the accusations forming in his mind.

“You’re drooling, sweetheart,” Emily teases, her voice a low whisper.

You pout. “Am not.”

But despite your denial, you raise a hand to your lips to check for drool anyway.

But you aren’t drooling. No, you’re so far gone that just staring at him lights up the pleasure centers in your brain. You have pages upon pages of notes just like this, detailing Spencer’s preferences and likes from the way he takes his coffee down to what you think is his favorite color (you haven’t confirmed, you are just that good at picking up on subtleties like his tie choices and such). But your lips might as well start to water, because now you’re imagining him pulling you in close, whispering all your favorite facts into your ear.

Does he ever whisper secrets to anyone? Is he the type to fall asleep talking about his passions? These were the thoughts you had before bed the night before this case, and you couldn’t help but imagine yourself in bed with Spencer, both of your bodies tangled together as he whispered to you, lips brushing the hollow behind your ear. Would he ask how your day was? Would he press kisses onto your skin, and tell you about one of the many facts he has stored away?

These thoughts are getting out of hand.

You don’t even notice the conversation has ceased until you look up and see everyone with their eyes on you.

Oh. They’d asked a question.

It wouldn’t be out of character for you to space out like this. You’re notorious for it. But still—it’s a bad habit, one you’ve tried to kick since your undergrad.

Spencer’s brow furrows ever so slightly as Hotch speaks. “So what do you think?”

“Well, from what you were reading in the file,” Hotch presses, waiting expectantly.

Is it a good answer? A bad answer? Are you supposed to respond? “Uh... what?”

A voice pipes up. Emily.

“Maybe it’s his first time out. Just a thought,” her voice is casual, but there’s an edge to it.

The rest of the plane ride is uneventful. Spencer spends most of his time reading, his lips moving as if reciting the words under his breath. You’d do anything to be that book. You bet it smells like him.

When the plane touches down, it’s already late afternoon, and the local precinct is eager for your help.

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The first victim’s house still smells of death.

You keep your face behind your collar as the M.E. walks you and Emily through the house, describing the scene with a level of morbid detail that makes you question your career choice. Spencer follows, his eyes scanning every corner, his lips moving in quiet conversation. It might be your imagination, but he seems closer than usual, his arm brushing against yours as he leans in to whisper something about the blood pattern.

Stay calm. You’re on a case. People are dead. Focus.

After the scene tour, the team splits up. Hotch and Prentiss go to the station, Rossi and Morgan check into hotel rooms, leaving you alone with Reid.

Alone. With Reid.

Emily flashes you a wicked grin before heading out, and you make a mental note to smother her in her sleep. How dare she leave you alone with Reid and look that smug?? Just to make it worse, she winks. Ugh.

Spencer glances at you. "I don't know about you, but I always work better with caffeine in me."

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The local coffee shop is relatively empty—just you and Spencer, the coffee machines hissing and gurgling in the background. You sit at a small table, a file open between the two of you, as Reid leans forward, fingers tracing the line of text.

“See the marks on her neck here,” he says, gesturing to the grisly photos. “That’s consistent with a rope or cord of some sort. But look at the angles. The depth.”

His finger travels up and across the photo, drawing your eye to the bruises.

“It’s not just strangulation.”

“It’s an odd pattern, though.” His voice has that familiar excitement to it, the kind that comes with unraveling a mystery. “It could indicate a signature, something personal to the killer. We should look into that more.”

Is his voice always this smooth? Are his lips always this pink? You’ve never seen him this closely before, at least not sober and awake.

Your gaze roams over his face, noting the way his tongue dips out to wet his bottom lip, the creases at the corners of his eyes.

Focus, focus, focus.

“And we could then link all of the victims together then.”

“Exactly!” He flashes you a grin, a real one this time, all teeth and crinkled eyes. It’s so damn cute you can barely breathe.

“Maybe he’s got a type, you know. A certain look, height—”

You can’t help but imagine Spencer pressed against your body, his breath on your neck, the rough stubble of his jaw dragging across your skin as he plants those damn perfect lips right behind your ear.

The warmth in his voice makes your stomach clench. You’re so close. If you leaned just a little bit forward, you could be kissing him. What’d he do? Would he pull back? Would he grab you and push you against the coffee counter? Would he pull your hair and bite your lips and whisper facts about how hot he thinks you are?

You can be a type.

“Mmhmm, a specific look, maybe... he wants revenge on someone who looks that way? And he’s working his way towards her. An endgame.”

The tension is almost palpable. You shift in your seat, trying to keep the air cool, to not let on how much you want him.

Spencer’s lips part slightly as he speaks, his tongue darting out to wet them. You can’t help but wonder if he tastes as good as he looks, like coffee and sugar and that je ne sais quoi that makes him… him.

You’re staring at him. You know you are. You shouldn’t be, but your eyes keep flitting between his lips, his hands, his eyes—you haven’t looked down at the file in what feels like forever.

You probably look like a creep, but you can’t help it. Every movement of his, every shift in his voice, sends a wave of warmth through your body. Maybe it’s obsession, maybe it’s hormones talking.

“The victimology might hold some clues,” he says.

“...probably, it usually does.”

“Right.”

Spencer licks his lips, his gaze lingering on the files scattered in front of you. He runs a hand through his hair, a habit you’ve noted when he’s deep in thought. If you had it your way, you’d have your fingers knotted in his hair, pulling him close as you kiss the curve of his jaw…

But for now, you’re here, in the coffee shop, trying to untangle your feelings for Spencer from the case at hand.

The smell of coffee and the hum of the evening news serve as a backdrop to your internal struggle.

Keep it cool. Keep it cool. Keep it cool.

[brawberryz]

you look so pathetic...i want you

Batboys × Loser nerd! Reader

Note: English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error / M.list

Jason Todd

Richard had convinced him to go on a blind date, at first he refused

But apparently Richard didn't understand the meaning of the word 'No' and he kept insisting on it all fucking week

He decided to accept just because he had nothing to do (plus he could get rid of that idiot brother)

He thought he would meet the usual girls, most likely he would just talk to her for a while and then leave

He was very surprised when he saw you entering the restaurant agitated 20 minutes late

God, you are the human representation of the fucking nerd emoji, you looked like you came out of an 80s movie

You are literally the representation of the word loser and nerd

"Hi..."

You said embarrassed as you sat at the table in front of him, you adjusted your glasses nervously

Your clothes and hair were a mess as if you had run a marathon to

"Hi"

He waved back, god he didn't think it was going to be this awkward

You and him didn't say anything for the next 20 minutes

"So... you like fnaf?"

"What?"

Jason was surprised by your question, it wasn't the best way to break the ice but it did the trick

At some point he felt like laughing, it was the first date and all you did was talk about a game.

"Although if you don't like it I can also talk about undertale or minecraft"

It was almost funny how you spent the whole date talking about indie games, comics and movies.

He just looked at you with a small smile nodding briefly, you were too focused talking about whatever you were talking about.

But he liked the sparkle and excitement in your eyes every time you talked about one of your weird tastes.

you were a complete loser

You were clearly he type

Richard Grayson

He had met you a few weeks ago, you were the kind librarian who helped him every day when he went to get a book

If he was honest he didn't read any of the books he brought from the library he only went there to see your cute face

After several failed flirtations and denied dates you decided to give him a chance

You couldn't say no to those little puppy eyes he gave you

The date had gone wonderfully and you timidly invited him to your apartment

And it was an offer that Richard couldn't refuse

The night was great, they watched some movies and spent too much time with you since when he saw the time it was too late

He told you it was time to leave but you insisted that he stay arguing that it was too late and your neighborhood was very dangerous

So just to please you he decided to stay, he was Nightwing some small time criminals weren't going to even scratch him but he still stayed with you

When you went to get blankets and pillows so he could sleep more comfortably in the guest room he decided to follow you

His surprise was great when he saw your room full of posters, manga and anime figures and other series and games

You are a big fan of many things

You saw his surprised face when he saw your room and you thought he was about to make fun of you, it was not going to be the first time someone made fun of you

You were a complete nerd and loser you were the easy target for someone to make fun of

"Sorry for the mess and everything else..."

You said embarrassed as you handed him some blankets and pillows

He just nodded with a small smile on his face

"It doesn't matter, the truth is if I'm honest I think it's pretty cool"

Those words caused a small blush on your cheeks, it was the first time someone said something good about you

He said good night to you before leaving for the guest room

That night you could barely sleep since you spent it thinking In Richard's words

he thought your tastes were cool?

Those simple words triggered something in you that you couldn't even explain

Tim Drake

Tim was a nerd, it was quite obvious and it bothered him to admit it

But his new teammate surpassed what the word nerd and loser was

The first time Bruce introduced you to him so that Tim could team up with you he could see how you became a nervous wreck

He could swear that under your gloves your hands were completely sweaty

You were a little strange, you hardly spoke but it's not like it bothered him, besides you were pretty good at fighting and solving cases

But every time he spoke to you it seemed like your brain went into automatic mode and you responded in a robotic way

But he simply didn't pay much attention to it because it wasn't even his problem

Although he wouldn't lie, sometimes you could be quite strange

He was writing another case that you were working on, this one was much more difficult than all the others and he felt that you and him would stay up all night

There was a long silence between you two, not It was awkward but you could tell you wanted to talk but your words wouldn't come out of your mouth

"Sooooo, do you like Star Wars?"

You said suddenly looking at him, he could feel your nervous gaze piercing the back of his neck

"I saw it once with my brothers"

Tim really wasn't very interested in the conversation, although he was a little surprised since it was the first time you started a conversation with him yourself

"Oh, and you liked it?"

"I kind of didn't understand much of the plot"

That was the sign you apparently needed

During the entire time you were with him in the batcave you spent time explaining the story and interesting facts about the movie

He just nodded at your words, it was the first time he saw you so focused talking about a topic, most of the time you were quiet

Although he didn't complain, your voice was quite comforting to listen to

You were quite cute when you talked about something you liked, he could see the way your voice changed to a more enthusiastic one every time you mentioned something you liked

You were a complete nerd and loser and he liked that about you

It's my first time writing romance but I think it came out pretty well, I think

Well, I just wanted to let you know that my requests are open in case anyone has any requests 🗣

[55sturn]

what do we think loser!reader & star!reader are doing currently ?

loser!reader is definitely rolling a joint for them to share while she draws a space themed tattoo for star, while star picks out nail polish for them both and loser is completely invested in what star has to say while explaining a bunch of space theories.

[nemesyaaa]

love in the dark — rafe cameron x gf's!twin! reader

summary ; it's all about your sister twin until rafe made a mistake by moaning your name instead of hers.....

warnings ; +18 content. minors dni. forbidden au. wrong sister trope. smut. p in v. oral (m.). attention's whore mentions. evil/angel twins. jjpope as bestfriend's readers and losers club bc i said so. cheating. little guilt. not girl girl sister content. be aware of the warnings before reading. i dont think its really dark content but it's kinda twisted so if you're not into it, just don't read it. friendly reminder that hate is useless and only hurtful for nothing.

words count : 1,8k.

author's note ; also a big thanks you to my girls @rafesangelita & @rafesheaven for helping me with this au ! it worked and I'm grateful ‼️✨

You were so different from your sister.

She was smart, popular, talented and the head of the cheerleader team. She always got the boys you wanted, reminding you that you could always dream of them, never be on their side. She was the beautiful girl of the school, her name literally glowing on every crush's list, the so-called “ kook princess ” by everyone.

She was too pretty to let you have a chance, which was unfair because you were literally her twin. You were living in her shadow. You were the so-called “ nerd & loser ” , the girl too focused on her revisions and hyperfixations, who love libraries and comics, having online friends and playing video games while chatting on discord. You were too online to be seen in real life.

All your boyfriends were literally fictional characters, and they were too fucked in mind to help you get popular at school. You always had a thing for depressed, stupid, losers, psychopaths boys. But it doesn't mean you were different from girls that had a crush on your sister's boyfriend. Who hadn't ?

Rafe Cameron was literally THE dream fantasy. You thought you had a chance when he ran toward you on the field, his helmet locked on his arms. He was so hot, his sweaty hair flying over his forehead while he was running, his big nose and wet lips glistening over the sunlight. His eyes were bright in a powerful way. You found him perfect. And you could imagine how easy life was for him because of his beauty privilege.

He smiled at you when no one did. And it was enough for you to fantasize about him, to imagine something with him. You were a hopeless romantic, forced to romanticize every small action in your life.

When he was close to you, you realized how big he was. His shoulders were broad, his chest firm and strong. His biceps were easily flexing like all the muscles on his body. The gym shorts were exposing his muscular legs. His jaw was art, especially aimed toward you just like that, as his blue eyes were watching nothing but you.

" Hey. ” he first said.

" Hey. " You said, wanting to slap yourself. Crazy how you just said the same thing as him but sounded more stupid. " Fucking loser. Do better. " you murmured to yourself.

" Can i have your sister's number ? "

You could swore at the moment that you lost your heart, as the same way your smile dropped.

But it was obvious. Every boy wanted your sister. You couldn't blame Rafe because why on earth would people want you when they could have a better version of you ? The thought of this was real and heartbreaking.

You forced a smile to answer him, not wanting him to know what's on your mind. You were already a loser, he didn't need to know how much. " Yes...yes, you can..." you just said softly, trying to hold back your tears, tired of this situation. " At this point, i think everyone has it..." You murmured to yourself with a bitter voice.

" What did you say ? ”

" What ? I said she's lucky. You're so pretty. " You replied, embarrassing yourself even more.

" I'm the lucky one. She's pretty. Guess i’ll see you at home. " He said with the cockiest smile ever.

So you started to see Rafe at home every night and day. He was always with your sister, they were always together.

Like Twins. Ironically.

But something was off. Your sister was unable to love. She just loved attention from boys. She wanted to be the attraction. She was always talking shit behind Rafe's back, treating him like nothing and you were wondering how he was still there with her.

That was crazy how everyone loved him at the house. Your parents already called him son, your sister was fakely in love, and you were really in love with him.

She was always kissing him, pulling him so close to her to steal a kiss. And after that, they were basically making out in front you. They didn't even care about your presence. And you started to think it was on purpose. Your sister wanted you to know that Rafe will never be yours, that she has something you would never have. The boy was hers.

But one day, you were at home after class, thinking of relaxing yourself during a show but something caught your attention.

You were upstairs when you heard some noises. Not the noises you were supposed to hear but you were used to with those people. You shouldn't but you walked toward the sound. The door was a little bit opened, so you checked.

And you saw it. Rafe was over your sister, oh you could see he was deep balls inside her, thrusting in and out her dripping core. His back was huge, covering your sister's body. They were fucking and from what you can heard, he was doing so good. He was fast, dick driving to her spot, hips slamming back and forth against her body. He was kissing her, hand on her throat, blocking her from breathing and fingers stuffed in mouth to the point she gagged on it. Her lips were pooling with saliva as she was nothing but a mess.

When you were about to step away, he did something that choked you.

“Fuck.. you're doing so good to me, y/n..."

Your fucking name. On his lips. When he was with your sister.

But that wasn't all. He did cum at this exact moment. He charged your twin with his load, whispering your name again and again until her pussy was full of his seed, until his voice was shaking to remain quiet.

“ What did you just say ? ” Your sister argued, a voice so loud and clear. “ Did you really say my twin's name ? ”

Oh she was mad. Really mad.

But for what ? Because she wasn't her man's attention, or for you ?

You covered your mouth with your hand to not scream.

" Shit, baby. I promise that's not what you think...Fuck, I'm sorry. "

“ You did not fucking do that. Did you really think of her ? God, you're such a jerk. ”

You went to your room, locked it because you were scared of your sister's tantrum. You tried to not think about it but you couldn't. Rafe really said it.

That was your name. He knew that you existed.

You were on call with your favorite losers. JJ and Pope. And so you asked them…

" What does it means when your sister's boyfriend is moaning your name while he's fucking her ? "

Pope's was gagged for a second while JJ first answered. " That he's fucking the wrong sister. I always tell you're prettier than her. "

" I would give you a chance if you weren't my bestfriend. "

" Did you really friendzone me ? "

" I mean... I'm into my sister's boyfriend. "

" But he's into her..." Pope corrected. " Sorry, after all, you have your chance. "

" I can't do that to my twin. "

" Well...if she can do that to you...maybe you should think of your villain era. "

" I'm not a mean girl. "

" You're not a girl girl too for wanting to Fuck your sister's boyfriend. So don't worry, you can be a bitch in peace. "

When someone knocked on the door, you cut the voice call and close your laptop before opening it.

It was Rafe. His hair was still messy from the sex, his voice deep and tired. He was all sweaty, wearing nothing but a black boxer. He was so insanely muscled, his pecs and abs glowing with sweat that was leading to a soft happy trail under his belly and heading inside the fabric of his pants. You couldn't stop yourself from lurking at the bulge. And the fact you know that he just had sex doesn't help at all.

" It's not gonna help if you continue to stare like that..." He mocked, but in a gentle way.

You looked away, suddenly uncomfortable with yourself. “ You're gonna act shy now ? Come on, we all know that's not what you are. " He continued while moving inside your room.

" Hey ! What are you doing ? "

" That's a nice room. " He complimented, looking everywhere. Your comics, posters, books, goodies and video games. “ Look like you've been alone here for so long. "

" You don't know anything about my life. " You said.

" I can tell you're nothing like your sister. You love all those things she hates. "

" And why aren't you with her ? "

" She's taking a shower. "

“ So that's why you suddenly give me attention ? ” You said bitterly. “ She's not there so now I now exist to you ? ”

He chuckled, before heading toward you, grabbing your face with his hand.

“ Oh you think it's easy to forget about you ? I see you everytime i see her. But not only... "

You glared at him for the first time he was in your room, he managed to have your attention. He smiled softly.

" I fuck you everytime i fuck her. "

You didn't care how weird it was, only cared about what he thought of you. In a second, your lips were on his.

Rafe didn't say no, he pulled you closer, his mouth pressed against your sweet lips as you felt his nose crushing against yours. Now, he could tell that you were different from your sister by the taste.

" Do you always do that ? " He whispered, licking at the string of saliva between you.

“ Do what ? "

" Stealing your sister's boyfriend ? "

" At least, it's the first time it works. " You played back. “ I want you, now”

“ Do you think you can make me cum in time ? ”

“ Do you think i'm inexperienced ? ”

“ I think you should get on your knees to prove me wrong. ”

He was against the door, while you were now on your knees, sucking his dick while your twin was still in the shower.

You weren't really proud but you were starting to think you were better than her. And the thought was obsessive. With a hand fisting his length, and your mouth pumping harder, you were doing your best. He was looking at you, fingers over your hair. You were pretty with his dick inside your throat, holding your boobs as he started to fuck your face.

The bathroom's door opened and you freaked out but Rafe forced you to still hold the pace, telling you to not worry about that.

“ Rafey…Rafey, where are you ? ” You heard her say.

With no answer, you panicked at her footsteps approaching your door. “Did you see, Rafe?” she asked.

With devilish eyes, Rafe released his cock from your mouth, inviting you to respond as you tried to catch your breath.

“ I-i don't know…” You just said with a little guilt.

“ So useless…” You heard her say before walking away.

She was so mean, you hated her.

Rafe saw that you were hurt by her words, and grabbed your jaw slowly, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “ She's wrong, baby. Look at you, how useful are you. ”

And you smiled. “ And pretty. ”

“ We share the same face. We're twins, Rafe. ”

“ But there's something I'm sure you don't share with her…what about spreading your legs for me and let me show you ? ”

You nodded.

“ Think you can moan the right sister's name this time ? ”

[aliyahwritings]

INTRODUCTION TO LOSER!READER

loser!reader has school validation issues, she constantly seeks love through grades/scores. she is very empathetic and sensitive to things around her. she has the most beautiful soft long skirts outfits and nails sets (my girl does them herself). she can't do anything without having her grey headphones with stickers on it. oh, have you noticed how she's DIY based? yep.

loser!reader who is obsessed with spider-man and constantly looks him up without knowing it's actually peter parker from science class. she will never admit this but she is attracted to him (spidey) physically and personality wise. she thinks the way he teases officers and is cocky makes him so sexy. she loves video games like resident evil, the last of us and until dawn. she absolutely love playing them to cool down.

loser!reader who's loved by everyone because of how sweet she is for helping those in needs when it comes to homework and tests; she won't give the answers but she'll help.

loser!reader who was raised by her single dad because her mother started a new life with her new boyfriend. she is very happy with her father and wouldn't have it any other way. her father always encourages and teases her to meet new people and "finally" get a boyfriend or girlfriend. she is pansexual.

loser!reader who has nerdy conversations with peter about books and superheroes. she always posts herself with peter on her instagram because she loves showing him off. her signature is definitely long skirts and her curly hair. the people in her classes always admire the way her hair is constantly styled in a different, cute way.

loser!reader is sending a hundred memes to peter in a day and he always answers. he thinks it's adorable how she sends things that remind her of them, him, or just things that made her laugh. he swings her across queens just to have her close to him and panic (mf thinks it's funny).

loser!reader IS A FUN LOSER!!!!! SHE LOVES TO BANTER AND MAKE SNARKY COMMENTS TO HER FRIENDS AND BOYFRIEND!!!!!!!

layout credit to the beautiful @rafecameroninterlude (if u want me to take this down, i understand)

i'll be writing college era peter and reader because ain't no way i'm writing a 15 year old peter... #weird #notintothat #fuckthemkids

[lxvvie]

One Night (I Can't) Stand.

loser!simon x loser!reader

You smelled smoke. Right after the direct sunlight bitch-slapped you awake.

You’d glare if you had the energy, but it was the sun and you were tired. Too tired. Too tired physically, and it wasn’t the type of exhaustion that came from being at work all day with your asshole boss and inept coworkers, oh no, this was… this was that ‘feel good’ tired, the one that came from a lot of—oh!

Oh.

You moved and… you were sore. In all the right places, too. Your body felt heavy and a little like Jello. You took a peek under the covers. Butt ass naked. Ohhh. So you did get some after all. Finally. Look at you, getting dicked down like normal people. After a bar crawl you were practically dragged to under the guise of “team building”. You cackled like some fuckin’ goofball, like you were in on some inside joke only you and the universe knew, and then you felt the bed shift a little next to you, heard a soft exhale, smelled some more smoke, and…

…Wait a minute. Who’d you fuck?

You were almost scared to turn over. The last time something like this happened, you shat where you ate. By proxy. It was one of your co-worker’s friends, some guy named… Jack? Joshua? Whoever the fuck. Anyway, the sex was… mediocre at best, you don’t even remember if you came or not (like who could forget an orgasm?), and afterward, you had to contend with said co-worker’s knowing smile every time you saw her. And then the poor guy asked you out (at her encouragement). Oh, you still cringe at the fallout from that.

Anyway… who’d you fuck again?

You took a deep breath, counted down from five, prepared yourself for the possibility of it being another shit-show, and then—

“The fuck was so funny?” Well, that eliminated… all of your co-workers. Deep voice. Nice, deep voice. Nice, deep, gravelly voice. Big dick energy voice. You think. The stuff fanfiction and bad boy fantasies are made of. Okay, you’ll hold that next cackle in. You turned over to face your bedmate and was immediately greeted to the sight of a pair of big brown eyes staring into your soul. Or, rather, staring through your soul. Same difference. You just know that he’s big. Huge. Physically imposing. Broad-shouldered. Muscular but not, what is it, incredibly defined? You can see the power in his body, and it was something to watch as he rubbed the back of his neck absentmindedly. Muscles under tan-lined skin. Angular, long face. A nose that was broken one time too many. Long eyelashes. Furrowed brows. Five o’clock shadow. Resting bitch face. Buzzcut that was growing out. He was cute in a grungy “fuck you and fuck them, too” kind of way. Mismatched features that matched him and made sense.

Shitty tattoos, though. Mm. A travesty.

So now you’re face-to-face with your bedmate who, from the looks of it, had been up longer than you, had also been watching you if his sitting up against the pillow was any indication, and was nursing one of cheapest cigarette brands known to man (shoutout to your chain-smoking HR rep for getting you hip to this information against your will while at job orientation), and… uh…

“…Who the fuck are you?” Smooth. Real smooth, blurting that shit out. Fuck your foot-in-mouth syndrome. It’s done you more harm than good.

Didn’t really faze the guy much, if any, though. He just quirked a brow. Took another hit from his cigarette. Flicked the ashes into the makeshift ashtray of a cracked shot glass. Exhaled and let the smoke settle over you two. Came back to staring into (or is it through?) your soul. Okay… this is awkward. Well, it was until—

“Who the fuck are you?” came the brusque response. You were taken aback. Don’t know why because you didn’t know the guy from a can of paint, but you were, and if he caught the shadow that passed over your face, he didn’t say anything. The high you had earlier from FINALLY getting some dick came crashing down stupendously upon this asshole’s broad shoulders.

You hate your co-workers and boss all over again.

And you hate that HR rep even more.

[sai-int]

loser Simon this, loser Simon that... what about loser reader?

-🦈 (you know who)

LMFAO I LOVE THIS

loser reader is showing up late to every briefing with a piece of toast in their mouth.

loser reader is getting lost on base even though they’ve been stationed there for months.

loser reader is trying to sound cool over comms but forgets to turn their mic on.

loser reader is just about to get a kill on their first op with the 141 and then immediately trips over a rock.

loser reader is complaining about rations while still stuffing their face.

loser reader is talking all that shit, saying they could totally take ghost in a spar, then immediately getting folded like a lawn chair.

loser reader is getting patched up by doc again because they ran their mouth at the wrong guy.

loser reader is making so much noise on a stealth op that ghost has to physically drag them into cover, clamping a gloved hand over their mouth while they mumble a muffled, “my bad.”

loser reader is talking about how emotionally unavailable men are a red flag but then immediately turning around and falling for ghost, like an absolute clown.

[creamecafe]

A petition to make more loser!reader/socially awkward!reader in fanfics? The kind that they believe it's hard that their fictional character loves them so much that they can't see what they find special in them. The literal reason why we come to websites like these to find comfort, because people now especially boys in this generation, Gen Z think it's okay to treat girls they don't find conventionally attractive bad and that it makes girls question their worth.

I wanna see myself as powerful and dominating in fanfics, but it hard to do so when I never once had a romantic interaction with a guy before in my life or know how I would be in a relationship.

And yes not every reader is shy, majority can be outgoing. But not every reader is outgoing. You can write a good shy!reader without making it cringey or making them insufferable. That's all. Thank you love you guys!

[vicariousresearcher]

cw: unedited

Loser!Reader who can’t quite get socializing down. Can’t quite figure out how to make a joke land, doesn’t know what qualifies as small talk or what is too much detail. Who fidgets in your seat because you doesn’t know what to do with your hands and always looks a little panicked because you don’t know what the right amount of laughter is or now much eye contact is supposed to be used 

Toxic!Kyle is the complete opposite. He loves bringing you out. Being a social butterfly he is, why wouldn’t he bring out his sweet little thing? Like a prized horse you stand there and smile as he drags you around. Only to end up on someone's couch sitting there kind of looking like you’re a part of the conversation that’s happening next to you when you haven’t said a word yet.

He knows how others look at the pair of you. So different. You’re something to be met with pinched brows and polite smiles, darting eyes and never quite sitting alone with. Its like everyone can tell theres something just a little bit off about you. Setting off their radars as something odd. Something he is so kind to put up with. 

Its like they’re all in on some form of secret language that you aren’t privy to. You say something and you see how Kyle looks over the rim of his glass to one of his buddies. Inside jokes clipping you enough that you know there's something you don’t understand but it’s never enough to actually understand.

You’re his pet project. Someone he’s improved, upped in quality by simply daing you. Yes he loves you, god he does, he loves your niche little references and the way you move your hands when you’re passionate. He loves how you ramble till you’re out of breath and how embarrassed you get when he has to redirect you in a conversation. He loves bringing you out to see you flounder and get so worked up, coming to him with desperate eyes and too shallow of breaths.

You’re tugging at his sleeve trying to prompt him into leaving, trying to whisper about feeling overwhelmed, head on a swivel for every noise, feeling eyes burnt into your skin.. He just brushes you off if you’re lucky. Other times saying “You can’t handle one night out for me? We do everything on your terms, can’t you just do this for me?” 

It’s only when you’re holding back tears, panting into your hands outside that he finally joins you. Ushering you into the car, cooing bout how “you should’ve just told him that you were feeling this bad.” 

Gets you home and into bed. Cradling your face in his hands while peppering nicotine stained kisses into your skin. “You did so good tonight.” “Wasn’t it fun?” “I’m so glad you came with me.” Stuffed knuckle deep with his fingers as he coaxes an orgasm out of you as a reward.

He doesn’t let you sleep until you’re agreeing with him, nodding your head that you enjoyed yourself. Nerves tugged raw yet he just keeps playing till he gets what he wants. You all mushy and sensitive from the rollercoaster of emotions of the last few hours. Like a puppet with its joints unhinged but still jerking to its strings. Doing anything for his reassurance after you embarrassed him in front of his buddies.

[maryangelex]

Part 2 of assistant!reader

(or loser!reader but I feel bad lol lmk which you prefer) since you guys loved it so much!

assistant!reader who is shellshocked by the sight of the large masked man who said no words to her but a muffled grunt on her first day on the job.

not to discredit the other 2 boys but you get along the best with your (very gentlemanly and handsome) captain, and when he asks you about how your first day went and you tell him about the “big man with the mask”, all he does is chuckle and tell you how he’s his best man on the team and not to be fooled by his appearance. but of course that’s hard for you to believe.

on your second week working there you see Johnny and Kyle again when they pass by to give their weekly reports and that’s just as much as you see of them unless they’re meeting with price. but you can’t say the same about “Ghost”, who comes in during the middle of the week to drop off the file containing his report but…it’s nowhere near complete. where are the remaining 15 pages of this thing?! You’d think the “best man” would know better than to leave his work unfinished.

the next day he’s dropping off another 5 pages continuous of the first few he gave you the day before. you huff when he turns on his heel and walks away without a word again, just silently hands you the folder and carries on his day. and the same happens the day after that and the one after that also until bit by bit the report is complete.

you’re on your third week working there and ghost carries on his daily routine of incomplete reports, now adds a courteous “give you the next one tomorrow” and it’s the first time you hear his low, baritone voice that makes your face hot, but doesn’t stop you from being annoyed. doesn’t he know it’s much easier to get it all done at once rather than turn in every 5 pages and have to…come back…every day…? wait…

just then it dawns on you that maybe he’s not stupid, maybe he knows exactly what he’s doing. but you don’t have it in you to really believe he’d make that effort to just see you. That’s ridiculous! You?! Of course not… so you push the thought to the back of your mind, and ghost continues his charade.

and all he can think of is how he looks forward to seeing your face even if it means being facetious with his work.

[rafeslvbug]

and they’re all very different trust!!

(for reference, gumdrop!reader is a loser sort of girl, quirky, watches cartoons and draws weird shit. she lives off candy and fizzy drinks, dresses like a five year old girl, strawberry shortcake on her shirt but the most sarcastic and uninterested girl alive)

[overflowingteacupoflove]

⋆𖦹.˚ Good looking ⋆˚࿔

tid-bits - Loser!reader, fratboy!Chris, isn't apart of the series, drugs, parties, cussing, a frat guy being gross, fluff if you kinda squint, angst , pet names but not really ("doctor" "partygirl" "rain" "sugar"), vomit

Word count : 958 (which is honestly a record for me i would add more but i dont want the point to get lost)

Based off of Good looking by suki waterhouse!

You are so high right now. You can feel it in every curve and crevice of your body. Chris can't find you and it's scaring the shit out of him.

Some guy pulls your legs over his lap and you giggle, even though you feel uneasy. His hands are too rough, too needy. He rolls dice across your thighs and you feel like a casino girl.

You are not a casino girl. You don't even know how you got here. How you got high. Where you are.

Chris is losing his cool. He can't find you and he needs to find you. He doesn't trust this frat and, he's sorry to say it, but he doesnt trust you alone. You do reckless things and it bites you in the ass.

"Rain? Rain, where are you?" His voice is high with panic that's only heightened by his lack of ability to see. He can't see shit in this dim living room. Someone bumps into him, grabs his arm. He shoves them off once he realizes it's not you. Those nails are too long to be your constant bitten ones.

You can hear someone calling your name, but you can't tell if it's real. Your ears feel like they're blocked with cotton swabs. What did you take? You can't even remember.

The guy you're sitting with runs his hand up your thigh, too close to where you definitely don't want him.

You throw out some random excuse before you're up and stumbling away, walking into things and not even apologizing, like you usually would, through your weird drug induced haze.

You don't hear the guy yelling for you to come back, throwing random threats, probably calling you a whore.

You slam into someone's chest and it's the last thing you need on your stomach to vomit on this guy's shirt. You're just lucky that he pats your back, doesn't even flinch at the throw up all over him. That's how you know it's Chris.

"Hey, partygirl. C'mon, it's home time. Couldn't find you anywhere, was about to file a missing persons report." He cracks a joke and you don't laugh. Your mouth is dry and your throat hurts. Everything aches. You don't know when you started crying.Chris frowns at the sight and wipes your face before settling a gentle hand on your lower back to lead you to a bathroom.

"What happened, sugar?" "I don't know." You sob out, chest heaving, shoulders shaking, snot running. You hear him mumble, 'Oh, baby.', before he's helping you to sit down on the closed toilet lid.

You hear the water run, tap water hitting a plastic container. He hands it to you and you gulp it down. It takes 10 minutes for him to get most the throw up off his shirt because you're constantly asking him to refill your water.

Chris doesn't ask anymore questions, and you wouldn't give any answers even if he did. Not because you're being defiant, but because you genuinely have no answers.

Chris is scared because, yes achohol makes you mellow and that's normal. But this? This eerie quiet, this haze over your eyes, the way you're slouching, it is not normal.

He just wants to know who you were with, what you were doing, what you drank, what drugs you took just because they were offered. He's going to be a doctor for goodness sake, it's in his profession to ask these questions. He doesn't know what to do to help because he could do the wrong thing and make it worse.

"M'sorry, Chris. M'sorry I'm such a fuck up." You sob, clutching your biceps as you shiver. You aren't cold, why are you shivering? You hear a empathetic coo and a cold washcloth presses to the back of your neck.

"You aren't a fuck up, sugar. You just need some surveillance, that's all. That's not bad." Chris tries to soothe you, rubbing a hand over your forehead, pushing your hair back from your face as you dry sob.

"I shouldn't need surveillance, that's not good. I don't even know who I was with or what I took, I dont know why he was touching me or how I ended up with my legs on his lap, or why he rolled dice on my thighs. I dont know how I got so high I dont remember. Why does this always happen to me." You ramble, getting more and more frustrated with your hazy memory. He continues to rub your head, trying to soothe you further.

He doesn't think it's working. It is though, you slowly calm down, letting yourself breath- though it's shaky and labored and you can't really breath you're just going through the motions- letting the cold water on the rag sink into your over heated skin, letting Chris's hand rubbing your head soothe you. Make you less erratic.

"I'm just sorry. I'm sorry I'm like this. I wish I wasn't, I'll try and get better." You whisper, letting your head loll the side, leaning so your temple is resting on his stomach.

"Okay, I believe you. I'll help you get better, party girl." He whispers back, leaning down to kiss your hairline. You barely mumble a thank you, before he's getting you to stand up, and helping you out the bathroom, letting you lean on him as you both stumble through the party to get outside.

When you get outside, you both sit down on the porch. And he just let's you lay on him as he waits for Matt to come pick you both up.

You're glad you finally have someone that cares, someone that doesn't leave you after one to many fuck up's. Someone who wants to help. Your pretty boy, who wants nothing more than to help you get better.

lee's post writing clarity: holy moly.

[elliereject]

creep .1

* in which you’re dragged to a frat party and spend most of it lingering in the corner, that is until a certain auburn-haired girl with unusually sharp canines appears next you and turns your night into something much more interesting.

* loserish!reader, vamp!ellie 😫, hemophilia if you squint, creepy ellie…duh, depictions of a singular graphic scene at the end, kissing, biting, heavy petting. that’s pretty much it lmk if I missed anything..nsfw in future chapter(s)

* this is one of the only things I’ve written recently that I’ve enjoyed writing and found decent so I hope u enjoy it, I’m glad I got this out before Halloween too, I’ve had vamp!ellie rattling around in my head a for a while, yk, fellow writers..I’d love to see..werewolf!abby..haha jk jk, unless 🫣..

*mdni

wc ~ 1k

pt 2. coming soon

“God, ★ can you go dance? It’s a fucking party loosen up!”

You held your red solo cup up to your “friend” and gave her an awkward smile. “I’m good over here!”

She sighed and rolled her eyes before slipping back into the sweaty crowd.

This was the most uncomfortable you’ve ever felt in your life.

It was a Saturday night; the chilly air, crunchy leaves, and overall mood of the season had deluded you into wanting to go out and socialize, so for the first time in a long time you agreed to attend a frat party with a “friend” you’d met in one of your classes.

It took you almost an hour to get ready, and as you reapplied your eyeliner for the fifth time you hoped that the saying “when you look good, you feel good” was true and you didn’t spend 20 minutes picking your outfit in vain.

Once you were ready, your “friend” picked you up from your dorm and the two of you walked over to the party, she was already a little tipsy from pre-gaming in her dorm with her roommate who was going to some other party so you had to make sure she didn’t stumble onto her face more than once.

The makeshift bouncer, a senior named Grey, or Grug or something gave you a once-over before looking at your friend who had to clarify you were with her, which definitely didn’t deflate your confidence.

Before you were even in the crowded, humid house, you knew you weren’t going to enjoy yourself, you never really did at parties if you were being honest, but you didn’t think your “friend” would ditch you to go grind her ass on some random chads and brads, yet here you were, nursing a cherry seltzer, and there she was, shaking ass.

Yay, college!

You were about to take another sip from your cup when a presence suddenly appeared beside you that made you jump out of your skin and caused your drink to slosh onto the already sticky floor.

“Shit! What the fuck?” You asked, looking up at the figure who seemingly appeared out of thin air.

“Fuck! Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, you just looked bored.” She replied, her voice was gravelly and her eyes, the colour of jade. Her auburn hair was cut short and freckles were scattered across her face. Safe to say she was hot. “I can go get you another drink?”

You waved it off, “It’s fine, it wasn’t that good anyways. Plus I should probably pay more attention to my surroundings, even if I am bored.”

She hummed out a sound of understanding, “Not your scene?”

You shrugged, “Not really,” you eyed her outfit, blue jeans with a green flannel and a brown leather jacket, converse. “Doesn’t seem like yours either.”

“Really? Cause I like just made out with Bryson in the storage closet, it was suuuupper hot.” She said, pointing a ringed finger to a blond dude clad in a football jersey who was currently shoving his tongue down a blonde girl's throat.

You allowed yourself a small smile, hot and funny? Yikes.

“Pretty sure his name is Brickson, but close enough.”

“What the fuck kind of name is Brickson?” She laughed, “Did a brick fall on his head after he was born or some shit?”

You shrugged before smiling, fully, “Judging by how flat the top of his looks? Probably.”

She snorted at this and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride, you made this hot, funny, cool girl laugh, you!

“Hey, so don’t freak out but that guy’s been staring at you for the past 10 minutes.” She said, flicking her head in the direction of said guy.

You turned your head to look at him, he wasn’t..unattractive. He was muscular and had on a sports jersey that seemed to small for his build, his hair was cut into a messy mullet and when he met your gaze he…winked.

You cringed and looked back at the cool girl, “I hope he doesn’t think anything’s gonna happen, he’s not really my type.”

She gave you a knowing smile before asking, “And what exactly is your type?”

You shrugged, “Preferably someone with boobs.”

She sighed, “Can’t relate, I love penis.”

You gave her a pointed look and she laughed, “What? Not believable?”

You rolled your eyes, “Not in the slight—“ your eyes widened as they looked past her shoulder. “Shit, he’s walking over here.”

“Wanna do something crazy then?” She asked quickly, her jade eyes meeting yours and you found yourself nodding before she even finished her sentence. Hell, you’d bark if she asked you to. “Just follow my lead.”

Her large hand wrapped around your waist while her other found purchase on your neck, before you could think her lips were on yours. Slightly chapped but soft and enticing, kissing her was easy and you felt like you could do it forever.

Her skin was so cold you could feel it through your clothes. Your mind was completely encapsulated by her presence and just as you were starting to get used to it, she pulled away.

You thought whatever moment the two of you shared was over but you were wrong. Her lips trailed along your jaw, and her grip on your waist tightened. The hand that had been holding your neck was now on your hip, caressing back and forth with tenderness that had your thighs clenching, wanting more.

Each kiss felt like a snowflake melting into your skin until she was down to your neck. She kissed and nibbled on it before pausing.

“What’s wr—Ow! What the hell? Did you just–bite me?”

She chuckled after pulling away, “Never gotten a hickey before?”

You went quiet, because, well you haven’t but you’re sure it didn’t result in genuine blood trickling out of one’s body.

You traced your fingers over the mark and winced, it was most definitely going to leave a scar. She must’ve seen the discontentment on your face because she spoke up.

“Don’t worry, it’ll heal up quickly, you won’t even notice there was something there by tomorrow.” Her eyes clung to drops of blood dribbling down your neck.

You scoffed, “Let me guess, you’ve done this before?”

“Kind of.” She shrugged after what looked like reluctantly peeling her eyes away from your neck. “That guy’s gone though, must’ve scared him off.”

You smiled at her, “Must’ve been my presence, I can be pretty intimidating.”

She laughed loudly at this and you felt your confidence inflate once again. So much so, that the idea of asking for her number even popped into your head. But it was overtaken by more rational thoughts,

What if she thought you were weird? That you were moving to quick? Or what if she was just looking for someone to take home tonight, which you wouldn’t be opposed to but—

“Hey.” She snapped her fingers in front of your face.

“Sorry, what’d you say?” You asked sheepishly, you can’t believe you spaced out in front of her, you could’ve sworn she was hypnotizing you with her laugh or something.

“You do need to pay more attention to your surroundings,” She said, giving you a small smile, “Never know what kind of creeps are lurking around at these parties.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m sure I can hold my own against a Chad or a Brittney.”

“I’m sure you could but—“ The music that had previously been wafting through the room turned up abruptly and you’d missed the last part of what she said.

“What?!” You shouted, putting your hand up to cup your ear.

She chuckled softly and leaned down so her lips were practically grazing the shell of your ear, the smell of mint, whiskey, and something metallic filled your senses.

When she spoke, a shiver racked through your body, “But if it was someone a little smarter? More discreet? If they snuck up beside you and covered your mouth? Or slipped something in your drink? Pulled you away? Would anybody notice, would anybody care?”

You pushed her away, her cool, easy going demeanor suddenly shifting into something eerie and uncomfortable. Her jade eyes gazed at you curiously as a blood-curdling shriek ripped through the house.

She jutted her thumb over her shoulder, “That’s my cue. See you around, ★.” She said, giving you a genuine smile, and it was just now you finally noticed her unusually sharp canines.

You gazed down at your drink as others pushed and shoved around, scrambling to get out of the house, away from all the horror.

And as you pulled a small scrap of paper out of your empty cup, 10 numbers and a name scrawled across it in red ink; you finally looked up to see your friend's lifeless body sprawled across the living room floor, her limbs bent in odd angles.

Yay, college!

[55sturn]

send in some blurb reqs or asks abt my aus! i have some extra time and i wanna write a couple things to post over the next few days!