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bellewintersroe · 10 months

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Charles Leclerc x reader smut - part 2

obsessed with this man I s2g, so here’s a part 2, literally just a series full of smut, kinda spontaneous so I don’t even know where this is going, but whatever. Link to Part 1.

Since Charles and Jenny’s encounter, Jenny was left even more frustrated, and with Charles’ orders that she couldn’t cum until he was the one to make her, she struggles even more to cope with the anticipation of having him again. The aftermath of them two is a tense, giggly mess skcieifiekw Charles is really soft hasnt shown his confident side in bed yet and reader can tell.

Smut - 18+ sexting, masturbation, teasing, swearing, dirty talk. Charles is a flustered mess, almost blows it a little too quickly… oral, fingering, p in v sex. Sexual tension? Ahh I want this man so bad.

My half sister was asleep in bed next to me and all I could do was stare at the ceiling of the hotel, waiting, waiting and waiting. Why she was asleep at 8pm I’ll never know, but now I had no way from distracting myself from the real issue on my mind. Charles. After our encounter earlier all I could think about was having him again, I got butterflies whenever I thought about it, and when I replayed his words in my mind they went straight to my core.

‘Don’t touch yourself until I can’.

How on earth was I supposed to wait? My hotel room was free for three whole hours whilst Eva, my sister was with her ‘boyfriend’ that she’d met in Austria. Seeing as she’d been sneaking out and I’d kept her secret, it was her turn to keep mine. I’d kept to Charles’s words all afternoon, waiting rather impatiently, but now it was getting later and later, all I could do was laid with tightly crossed legs and scroll through my phone in a pathetic attempt to distract myself.

Charles had been texting me back and fourth all afternoon, apart from when he was training of course. The more time that passed the hornier I got. So I took myself to the bathroom, deciding to run a second shower. “Fuck this…” I muttered, locking the door and stripping off my clothes. My underwear were already dripping wet, and I sighed, annoyed by my own desperation. I could still imagine vividly the slight stretch of my tight hole around his cock, the way he’d press so hard against me that his balls would push against my ass. Before I knew it my right hand was rubbing over my clit, taking my phone in my other hand and snapping a picture of my bare tits and torso, cutting it off just before he could see where I was touching. Oops

I’d sent to him the message, stepping in the shower with my hair tied up to avoid getting it wet. Maybe it was a good idea to cool off. When my phone buzzed again, I took it with wet hands.

I thought you said you were going to wait

I’m not making myself cum, but I’m just so wet from earlier, I can’t help it

fuck you are making me hard

To this, I sent him another picture of my wet tits pressed together, fingers slightly sprawled over my pierced nipple, awaiting his response as I tightened my legs. I loved the idea of Charles being hard over me, no matter how many times we had these conversations, they never failed to turn me on more than anything. You are so fucking beautiful, I’m going to fuck you so good later

are you touching yourself? Smirking, I pulled out the camera again, leaning against the wall as I sunk down to the floor, spreading my legs and sending him a video of me rubbing my clit slowly. fuck fuck fuck Jenny im leaving in a minute

So hard for you omg

Leaning back I let out a quiet sigh, enjoying the sensation of touching myself, I was throbbing so desperately, closing my eyes and becoming lost in the moment. I imagined his fingers pushed inside of me, fingering me until I squirted down his arm, screaming his name as I tugged on his short hair. The way he’d muffle a moan if his face was pressed up to my pussy, tongue licking up and down as he made me cum all over his face. Fuck, if I continued I wouldn’t stop. I was dangerously close to losing control, so I had to pull my hand away and continue with a second shower, unable to look at Charles’ dirty words until I was done.

I will be back in 10 minutes, I’ll come get you

just as long as you’re quieter than you were earlier 😉

shut up

I giggled, realising I kinda had to rush. I had to go through the full routine again, moisturising, spraying perfume, picking out new underwear. “What’re you doing?” My sister grumbled from behind me, thick in her French accent, as I stuffed my phone into my pocket. I had to leave now. Charles was outside the room. “Uh going out, I’ll be back in the morning, don’t tell dad, cos’ I kept your boyfriend a secret!” I warned as she pfffted out a tired laugh. “Salope.” She joked as I fake gasped. “You are the slut!” I giggled, heading down the corridor, knowing my secret was safe. “Jenna?” She then asked. “C’est Charles?” I cringed at her question. She’d caught on oddly fast. “Non.” I lied, before slipping out of the room and seeing Charles stood there, hood up and a gentle smile covering his face. I immediately smile, being quiet to close the door behind me. “Bonjour.” I teased as he wrapped an arm over my shoulders, pressing a kiss to my lips, “hello.” He eyed me up and down, squeezing my shoulder before his arm dropped and he left a lazy hand on my lower back.

“Thats his room… be quiet.” I whispered, as we passed my father and step-mums room with our heads dipped. “Lucky, I am on a different floor.” He shrugged, pressing the elevator button. The whole time we were waiting for the lift I was anxiously awaiting somebody I knew to open their door or come out from down the hallway. When a door did pull open, I was grateful that we’d hopped into the lift for safety. Charles pressed the button number 7 and then I frantically pressed the close button, relieved when we began moving upwards.

He laughed at my frantic behaviour, coming up behind me and making eye contact with me through the mirror in the lift. “You look so good.” He muttered, voice getting lower as he stepped closer towards me, hooking an arm over my chest.

Smiling back up to him, I watched as he dipped his head inhaling the scent of my hair. “You smell good!” His words made me laugh now, feeling him nuzzle his nose into my freshly washed hair. “You weirdo!” I giggled, digging my bum back into his hips as he groaned, moving the hair back with a kiss to my neck. “Mmm, ça m'excite.” He admitted it turned him on as I hummed, running a hand over his clothed arm.

He mimicked my hum, leaving several kisses on my skin as I gasped out a soft sigh, just as the lift doors opened. There was two different couples stood wide eyed, luckily I didn’t recognise either of them as Charles cleared his throat, lowering his head and leading me out of the lift with his hand. Once we’d past them, both of us giggled, sharing a kiss whilst he used his keycard to open the hotel door.

Oh my god, his room was nice, 10x better than mine and Eva’s and I wasn’t surprised. I turned back to him with my jaw dropped. “It’s so nice in here!”

“It is… I gotta shower and I’ll be back with you, put whatever you want on the TV.” He glanced me up and down as I nodded, sitting down on the plush bed and leaning back. “Ugh, so comfy.”

“I know!” He exclaimed, stripping off his hoody and tossing it straight onto my head playfully. His phone was still in the pocket, luckily it didn’t hit my head but it didn’t stop him from rushing over.

“I am sorry! I forgot that was in there! Are you okay?” He laughed, scanning over me as he held my face. “I’m okay, you idiot.” I laughed, playfully tapping his face as he pressed a kiss to my forehead, and then again to my lips. Charles jumped up quick, almost child like. “Ok, I will go shower now.”

Whilst he was showering, I was struggling to work the TV, everything was in French, or German. I mean we were in Austria, I just struggled to follow the language when it was on the TV. In the end I settled for some French sitcom whilst I awaited Charles to be finished in the shower.

10 minutes later, Charles walked back out in a fresh pair of Calvin Kleins, practically diving on the bed with a playful look in his eyes. “Don’t look at me half naked.” He half joked as I giggled. “What?! I barley even saw you!”

“Good…” he spun around on the bed, resting next to me against the headboard. “What are you watching this for?!” Charles spluttered out a laugh, taking the control that had been resting in my hand. “It’s my favourite TV show.” I sarcastically spoke. “Can’t you tell?” “No, I can’t.” He laughed sheepishly, clearly thinking I was being serious. “I’m being sarcastic, I don’t even know what they’re saying. Their French is too quick. Le mien est lent.” I told him mine was slow, longing out the sentence as Charles scanned over my face. His gaze dropping down to my lips. “You sound good when you speak French.”

“Hm?” The corner of my lip perked, pulling my knees up slightly to bend, but Charles had other ideas. His hand smoothed down my thigh, nudging it back on the bed as I swallowed harshly. “It’s a shame I could not hear you in those videos earlier.” He muttered sending a wave of butterflies through my lower stomach. “I had to be quiet.” “You didn’t cum did you?” He asked, hand pausing as his fingers just about nudged under the hem of my grey jogging shorts. “No, I listened.” I teased, watching a smile grow on his face. “Now I have finally got you alone.” Charles smirked, his fingers continuing their way up to rest on my inner thigh. “About time.” I moaned, watching him sit up slightly so he could nudge his lips against mine to steal a kiss. I could feel his smile against my mouth the whole time, it made it a little hard to kiss, but I didn’t care, his excitement was a compliment to me. Plus, I’d been waiting for this all day. The playful tone in the room soon switched up to something heavier as he lay between my legs, kissing me hungrily with his tongue rolling over mine. There was that thick tension between the two of us again, one that made me pull his hips further into my own. We didn’t have to speak to let one another know how badly we yearned for this. I was wet just from kissing, and Charles didn’t hesitate to slip off my shorts, discarding them next to us on the bed.

“I want to taste you… can I taste you?” He asked, fingers inching closer up my thigh, teasing around the area as I writhed, not being down for this teasing. After months of fantasising about this, and him saying how badly he wanted his mouth on my pussy, my dream was finally coming to life.

“Yeah.” I weakly spoke, hand on his head as he worked his way down my body. Oh god, oh god, I was already breathing heavy, but this was just making my chest heave and fall at a ridiculous pace. “Are you sure?” He breathed, lips pressing a kiss to the lace of my thongs. “Mmh, please.” I moaned as he let out a soft chuckle, fingers nipping under the edge of my skinny underwear. “I like this.” He whispered before sliding them down my legs. I gulped, fidgeting my legs as he nudged them open, leaning in and finally licking a stripe up my pussy. The two of us simultaneously groaned. “Mmm, Charles.” I cooed, as he hummed, licking over me once again. The heat from his tongue, followed by his lips wrapping around my clit sent me onto a whole other planet. “You taste so good, baby.” He uttered, barely breaking away from his movements as he sucked over my clit again. He looked away, shyly, rubbing his hands up and under my tight shirt, squeezing at my tits. “Couldn’t stop staring at these tits.” He admitted as I let out a louder moan, feeling him pinch at the pierced buds. “So sexy.” He commented before licking up and down over my sensitive clit once again. “Charles.” My body jerked, knees trapping his head as he continued his assault on my core. “Oh my god, you feel so god.” I finally spoke, feeling him smile as I whined, grinding my hips against his mouth. “How can I make you cum, baby, with my fingers?” He asked, seeming a little unsure as I nodded with a pleasured sigh. Charles wiped the back of his mouth before kissing me, tracing once finger down my naval, over my slit and easily pushing into my wetness. “Oh, fuck.” I gasped as he hummed, nodding besides me as he kept pushing his finger in and out. “Keep- keep going.” I gasped, hearing the squelching of my wetness against his fingers, my own hand moved down to assist his, rubbing over my clit as Charles kissed at my cheek.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day. About you.” Charles admitted as I moaned, dropping my head against his for support. “Keep talking to me.” I whined, desperate to hear more. “About how tight your pussy felt, how badly I wanted to cum in there… can you take two?” He hummed as I moaned out loud, hand grabbing at his prominent bulge, desperate for something to hold onto.

“Yeah.” Charles pushed his second finger into my tightness as my breath hitched, feeling the intensity of his fingers jabbing at my G-spot. “I imagined you cumming all down my fingers.” His accent was doing wonders for me and soon it was my turn to talk back. “Gonna make me cum Charles, fuck, do you want me to?”

“Yes, baby, oui, jouis pour moi.” He instructed me to cum for him, my stomach curling and tightening as I let out a louder gasp, squeezing the head of his cock as he let out an inward groan. “Cum for me and I will fuck you so good.” He told me, “Charles!” I warned, hand moving to snatch at his flexed arm as I choked out several moans. “I-I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” I gasped, feeling the overwhelming pleasure soon rattle through me. I felt myself release from below, squirting on him as I let out a borderline scream, covering my mouth but Charles pulled my hand away. “That’s it, that’s it.” He cooed me through my orgasm as I sobbed out, body writhing and twitching as he milked my orgasm.

“Tu as giclé pour moi. Tu es tellement bon.” He muttered gently, easing his fingers out of me once my body had relaxed. “What? I don’t know what tha’ means.” I panted furiously. “I don’t know it in English, you… you know.” He gestured down to my below. “Squirted?” I awkwardly said as he nodded. “Yes, I lost my English.” “Mmm, it’s okay.” I hushed, pulling him in for a kiss as I swiped my hand down to rub over his cock. “You’re so hard.” I moaned as he let out a breathy sigh against my mouth. “I can’t wait to feel you inside me.” I urged him on, taking a hold and rubbing more at his cock.

“I need to fuck you.” Charles then spoke, “I need to- putain, c'est trop bon.” He cut himself off with a curse in French, hips jumping when I squeezed his dick. He made out with me for a little longer, breathing heavy as I quickened my pace. “Non, non… I am taking care of you.” He seemed to fight an internal battle, but didn’t push me away. “I like doing this, Charles, making you feel good.” I cooed as he moaned out loud now. “C'est trop rapide. Putain, si tu n'arrêtes pas ça ira trop vite.” (This is too quick. Fuck, if you don’t stop it will happen too quick).

“What will happen too quick?” I bucked my naked hips up at him as he quickly stopped me. “Non, non, non. Give me a minute-“ he exhaled quickly, freezing and stopping my hand from touching him. “Are you okay?”

“You just nearly make me cum too fast.” For some reason, his words spurred me on further, but I knew I couldn’t continue to tease. “It’s okay.” I whispered, turning around and stripping my top off. Charles eyes were constantly on me, and it was within no time that he was pushing me under his body. “You can fuck me exactly how you wanted to now.” I giggled as he bit down on his lips, kicking off his underwear. “You want this?” He asked, pumping at his cock. So fucking hard and long, he was the perfect size. “Yeah… do you?”

“So much.” He cooed, easing himself in once again. I gasped, snatching at his shoulders. This time, the burn was a little harsher than before, but I pushed through it, knowing I was just a little sore from earlier. “Is it ok?” Charles let out a groan, with a noise like that how could I ever stop? “Fuck me.” I begged, moving my hips up until he finally began thrusting in and out of me. “Does that feel okay?” I could tell he was holding himself back, straining as he held himself up to wait for my answer. “It’s good.” I panted with a reassuring smile. “You feel so good.” This made hun smile as he moved forwards to kiss me much deeper now.

“Oh, yeah.” Charles moaned directly into my ear making me sigh out in utter pleasure, feeling his hand holding the back of my head. “Harder.”

“Harder?” He looked back as I nodded. “Please, I need it.” I spoke through almost gritted teeth as he rested his hands either side of me, beginning to fuck into me at a pace that I could barely moan properly at. He was so good, his hips were slapping against my own, the bed beginning to squeak at our antics.

I took his hand, running it over my breasts and throat teasingly. “Oh god.” He closed his eyes, tending his jaw as he thrusted into me harsher. With each intense thrust I yelled out, snatching and scratching at his back as Charles hissed. His cock was filling me up, stretching my pussy out, my legs were wide and he was slotted so perfectly between them. Sinful noises filled the room as we continued with our passionate fucking. I couldn’t stop, neither could he, it was like a desperation as we chased one another’s orgasms. Every time we’d start off sweet and slow it’s like something inside of us clicked and an animalistic side came out. I tugged on Charles’s wrist, pushing his hand onto my neck as he groaned. “You will make me cum, fuck! You will make me come, Jen- jouis avec moi. jouis avec moi, baby!” We were spooning, my leg stretched up as he frantically fucked me like there was no tomorrow.

“Cum together?” I repeated. “Oui!” He gasped out, tightening his grip on my neck as I rolled my eyes back, feeling him rubbing over my clit. The pace was overwhelming, I could no longer hold back the anticipation racking up inside of me. “Okay, cum, cum inside me, fuck, give it to me- Ah, I’m cumming!” My voice raised as Charles gasped out, fucking his seed into me as he came with a satisfied moan, simultaneous to my own. “Fuck, fuck. I just came so hard.” Charles choked out, his tight grip loosening do rub over my skin. I was exhaling loudly, body jolting and jittering from the aftershocks of my orgasm. “So did I.” I sighed, feeling him milking the last of his cum inside of me, body dripping with sweat as he gently rested an arm over me. “Just stay like this.” Charles cooed, pulling me close as I hummed, snuggling into his back. “Are you okay?”

“Tired.” I responded feeling him lifting his head to take a look at me. “Tu as bien fait ma belle.” (You did so good, my beautiful). An undeniable smile grew on my face. “So did you…”

#Charles leclerc #Charles leclerc x reader #Charles Leclerc smut #Charles leclerc smut x reader

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demontonic · 10 months

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Hayden Christensen - The first time

H.C x actor reader

In which you try to avoid him during training but it’s useless when Ewan puts you up against each other in a friendly match.

Word Count: 2099 words (que spiderman theme song. IM NOT JOKING THIS IS THE ACTUALLY COUNT)

You were new to the industry, you had only been in two movies thus far. The first one wasn’t big, it was just an indie film that horror movie nerds happened to like. From there you got picked for an audition for a bigger movie that would be put in a few theaters. However here, now, you’d never really expected such a huge change, you weren’t going to be playing a huge part. It was a flashback for the upcoming series Ahsoka, you were going to be a Jedi for a short time. They were doing another scene for order 66 in which Anakin goes against someone whom he’d become acquainted with during training. A battle was to be choreographed which meant you were going to be up against the actor who had single handedly started your acting career.

You were a huge Star Wars fan and without a doubt one of the kids who had lightsabers and a few Clone Wars coloring books. As you got older you looked into Anakin’s actor Hayden Christensen and grew to love the movies he’d done. Of course you thought he was hot, who wouldn’t love the nerd in Shattered Glass, or the punk in Life as a House? Sure he’s older now but that didn’t stop you from absolutely freezing up the second you walked into the training area. He’s significantly taller than you, that much you already knew but now it made you feel even more anxious. Interviews of him (which you of course obsessed over in your younger years) depicted him to be very nice, but you can’t always judge someone based on their interviews.

“Oh my god,” you whispered to yourself as you placed your hand to your cheek.

“Are you okay?” The trainer had questioned, a slight concern showing on her face. Hayden had also looked to you, the thin lightsaber prop swinging effortlessly to his side as he awaited your answer.

“Uh- Sorry I just got a… um- a headache is all.” You lied while your hands gripped onto the prop like it was the only thing grounding you.

“I have tylenol in my bag, or some water if you want?” Hayden’s hands gesture over to the black backpack that was leaned against the wall next to yours. Your throat ran dry as you opened your mouth to speak, before choking on your words and coughing… quite literally choking on your words.

“Yeah, the water should be fine.” Hayden walked over to his bag before pulling out two bottles and handing one to you. He stood there however as you took a small sip and placed it back down.

“Nervous?” He snickered lowly while he waited for you to collect yourself.

“Pfft… can you tell?” You questioned softly, looking up at his sparkling blue eyes. My god you’d dreamed about meeting him for practically half your life, but all you did was fumble. The casting crew never really gave you a lot of information, just that it was for upcoming Star Wars content and that they’d needed to fill a small jedi role. Nothing could’ve mentally prepared you to meet your living, breathing, wet dream.

“It’s just training right now, so there’s really no need to stress, we can all help you learn everything you’ll need to know.” His voice was so calm and endearing, maybe it was the daddy issues talking or the fact he is a dad, but it was so comforting.

Even three months into your training you’d distanced from Hayden as to not make a complete fool of yourself. He’s almost 40 at this point with a child you’d assume he was tired of the wild fans. Even so during training you’d often slip up while your eyes were trained on his swift movements. Sometimes you guys would get together and have little matches to see who could win. It was a random pick or whoever decided to challenge someone, and it was no different today. Everyone had finished training but the energy had been so vibrant that here you were on the cushioned floor in a circle. At this point it was no secret your character and Anakin were to have a final battle, but you had never gone against each other in these matches.

“Okay before we start, would anyone like to call someone out?” Rosario Dawson, Hayden’s childhood friend who’d been training for a separate project, questioned the small group.

“This isn’t a call out but I’d actually like to see Hayden vs Y/N without their choreography.” Ewan suggested while sitting on the blue mat cross legged, a childlike smile on his face. On one hand you were a shell of a human around Hayden, but with Ewan it was like he was your favorite uncle. Had you at some point in time found him incomprehensibly attractive? Yeah, but he’s the kind of nice that makes you feel like you’ve known him your entire life.

“Oh come on, is that even fair?” You whined, alluding to the obvious experience points he had on you.

“Are you calling me old?” Hayden jokes lightly as he steps forward into the circle, the group collectively letting out a low ‘oooooooh’.

“I mean your character is the chosen one, I don’t know if my three months of training can compare.” In all honesty you had tried your hand occasionally at a lightsaber when you were younger, so you had a little bit more experience than you let on. The amount of times you’d watched the behind the scenes,their practicing and training helped you recognize his moves.

“I’ll go easy on you, how about that?” His arms were outstretched to his sides in a shrug. A smirk was playing on his lips as he stared at you expectantly.

“Easy? Okay Christensen I’ll fight you.” Competitive couldn’t even begin to describe the drive that suddenly pumped through your veins. The way his eyes zeroed in on you, and the familiar smirk you had only dreamed of seeing in person made your adrenaline kick in. All the information you’d ever retained while watching those extras, would finally be useful for more than proving a point in a dumb argument online.

“Let’s not forget who’s had more training.” Hayden said with a scoff as you both got into your beginning stances. Yours mimicking the form Obi-Wan took while fighting Grievous, Ewan didn’t miss it, how could he? He simply stood with his left foot pointing towards you, his right braced for a sprint, and his saber behind him ready for a strike. You were reading him like a billboard, he never strayed from the forms he was taught, but you were a fan with too much time so you had a few of your own moves.

“May the force be with you Master Skywalker.” You said before he charged, you dodged the first strike but he had already begun to recover from the miss. A huff came from his chest as he swung the flimsy pole back down, meeting yours with a loud clash. The group let out sounds of shock and excitement as he pushed you down to one knee, he was stronger than you. It was no secret as height wise he’s an entire foot taller than you, so you quickly rolled from your position in front of him. He stumbled forward slightly, then twisted around to meet your blows. One to the head, down to the legs, up to the arm, then back down to his torso since it would be an awkward position for him to hold. You were both fast, you’d spent so much time learning basic defense in case one of you made a mistake it was too easy. Stamina was probably the only way you’d win this, or so you thought.

“You’ve learned well, young one,” he tripped you up, while you were focused on his words he’d hit you with the same move Anakin used on count Dooku. “although you’re too focused on me,” your ‘saber’ swung upward to slash his torso, but with a small step back, he dropped the pole to his open palm.

“And not my hands.”

“Fuck.”

The cool, thin, dented metal was up against the side of your neck as your arms were still tilted up in your last strike. Heavy breaths left the both of you as your small ‘audience’ went silent. The sound of your pole hitting the mat, signaled your defeat and in true style you dropped to the floor. The room erupted with groans and yells of victory from those who bet on Hayden. A few seconds of lying on the floor Hayden walked over, standing above you holding out his hand.

“Come on loser.” His smile was so genuine it made your face blush softly as you rolled onto your back.

“I can’t, I’m dead, rigor mortis.” You mumble, letting your tongue hang out the side of your mouth. You felt two arms scoot under your back and knees, quickly feeling your body lifted into the air. A scream came out of your throat as your hand quickly gripped onto Hayden’s loose shirt. The group laughed as he basically tossed you up and down, pretending like he was going to drop you.

“I don’t know why you’re screaming! Dead people don’t scream!”

“Oh- OH MY- PLEASE! GOD PLEASE! OBI WAN PLEASE!” He’d even managed to flip you on your stomach, your fingertips almost meeting the ground before he flung you back up again. Sure it wasn’t a crazt high distance from his arms, but add that with his height it was terrifying enough.

“So uncivilized!” Ewan mocked in a bad Obi-Wan voice, Hayden finally held you against his chest as he laughed with the rest of the group. Ewan came over with Rosario, both of them cooing softly at your semi panicked state.

“Put the poor girl down already!”

“She’s as red as a tomato Hayden!”

He let you down to your feet, still holding onto you as you stumbled lightly. Your chest heaved as you rested your hands on your knees, completely oblivious to how you practically pushed against Hayden’s crotch. His hand came down to rest on your lower back, rubbing softly while you regained your breath.

“I’m-… I’ll kill you for that one day Christensen.” You said through heavy breaths before standing straight again. Hayden’s hand coming up to rest on your shoulder, sporting a smug smile as the group began to discuss the next match. Hayden pulled you off the far walls where your bags lay, you both sitting in front of each other while he pulled out water bottles. For a while you sat in silence, just leaning against the wall watching Rosario and Ewan go at it.

“Were you ever going to tell me about your tattoo?” Hayden questioned, his voice staying low in contrast with the yelling from the group. At first you almost didn’t know what he was talking about, but then your cheeks turned to a dark red. On your wrist was the japor snippet Anakin gave Padme when they first met, and under it read ‘Skywalker’ in Huttese. Usually it was covered by a scrunchie or bracelet, but it must’ve slipped your mind today.

“I wasn’t planning on it, it feels too embarrassing to show you.” You held your arm out to him, since he’d already seen it there was no use in hiding it now. His hand pulled your wrist closer as he traced it with his fingers.

“I always wanted to get a replica of the japor snippet but I never did. I think this is really cool Y/N, you don’t need to be so nervous around me all the time.” He said quietly as he set your arm down on your thigh. Hayden was nice, but you were feral, you still couldn’t grasp the fact you avoided him like a schoolgirl avoided her crush.

“I-… I am not! The job is just so… overwhelming you know?” Lies, you shook as bad as a chihuahua when you were alone with him, practicing lines, fighting, and in general.

“It’s been three months and you still get distracted by just staring at me mid-fight.” A chuckle resonated in his chest as you looked at your blushing face.

“Okay… I just didn’t want to look like some nerdy, obsessed fangirl, I didn’t know how well that would go over.” Holding the cool bottle against your face you let your hair shield your face from the older man.

“I think it’s cute.”

And for the first time, you felt like maybe the star would align, maybe you would have a chance with the man you’d worshipped during your teen years.

I need to be his controversially young girlfriend HIS BIRTHDAY IS THE DAY AFTER MINE idk i think its a sign or whatever🤞🏼 hope you liked this! feel free to make any requests! i might make a part two but idk yet

Masterlist

#hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen #hayden and ewan #anakin #star wars fanfiction #star wars anakin #stephen glass #sam monroe #anakin needs a hug #anakin x y/n #D3M0NT0N1C #demontonic

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destructive-path · 4 months

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idk in some imagination of mine i see ellie to just be sooo sweet and sooo loving to you but den destroys you and fucks you like an animals in heat fr

this is definitely farm ellie core……

18+ MDNI

farm ellie is definitely a physical labor partner she’s doing the hunting, farm work ect. ++ ELLIE ON A TRACTORRRR 😩 someone get her a cowboy hat

farm ellie loves it when you cook for her and likes to watch you cleannn shes manspread on the couch watching you scrub the floors with a smirk on her face and pink on her cheeks from seeing u bent overrrrr

farm ellie LOVES THE DOMESTIC ATMOSPHEREEE shes hugging you from behind, TONS of neck kisses and gives massages whenever you want oh my god she basically begs you to let her ease any tension you may (or may not) have

i think she would be so southern lipped. ‘ing’ words now sport a n’ sound at the end. “shootin’ , huntin’, workin’” BYE shes calling you “darlin” and “honey” just adorably wrapped up in the farm fantasy it sort of becomes her

but YEA she would definitely be a FREAK in the sheets tho. im talking REAL POSSESSIVE TYPEE TYPEE

farm ellie makes you touch yourself before fucking you and you HAVE to keep your eyes on her or she will deny you pls

personally i think she would be really into tying you up and just having her way with you. something about being domestic makes ellie OBSESSED with everything about you. ur basically her world. shes taking her timeeee, kissing you on all her favorite spots (and she would have SPECIFIC favorites because she knows your body like the back of her hand) if you squirmed too much shed tut at you and smack you lightly somewhere sensitive then bully you when the wet spot under your cunt would grow larger:(((

trust her hands are never leaving your neck babyyy she’s strapping you with a brown leather harness she made herself and is constantly slurring her words while she pounds into you whew…specifically in missionary tho bc she loves to see how wet you get for her and only her “my pussy.” she would say over and overrrr things like “you belong to me.” “no one can fuck you like me” , “i know this pussy the best because its. mine.” all whilst choking you to the point of seeing starsss 😌

farm ellie after care hits DIFFERENTTT i just know she gets pussy drunk like mf just starts praising you to the point where you get horny again and the cycle just repeats it selfffjskksks. “gonna mary you.” “how many kids do you want?ill give you em all” “so pretty…” “so soft~”

is it crazy to say farm ellie has wayyy to much time on her hands and would probably fuck you like crazy then like get inspired by all your beauty and write a poem or a song about it like IMMEDIATELY after you fuck……shes writing at the speed of light next to you butt ass naked. “baby…ellie…can you untie me first?……” LOL

#ellie the last of us #ellie williams #tlou2 #the last of us #tlou #ellie x reader #ellie x you #lesbian #this post is about lesbians #wlw

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beababoobies · 30 days

Note

this is an embarrassing ask but can u write sir pentious x succubus reader headcanons, sorry if this lacks any detail im gathering dust from sir pentious x reader stuff 😪 its okay if u dont wanna and/or aren't comfortable with it.

giggles maliciously. why yes. yes I can, lovey. SIR PENT X SUCCUBUS!READER HCS

the normal warnings you’ll find under a succubus-centric post. minors dni, cvm eating, cvm-centric (LOLLL)

✖️You had decided… finally, to become a better person. You couldn’t stay down here forever, and you honestly… had a guilty conscience from how many sinners thought you were in love with them after using them. So this.. hotel it was.

✖️In fact - you might’ve even liked it here. The people were so sweet, some even kind of.. hot, thought you brushed that out of your mind. Life was easier in here.

✖️Or so you thought. See, a succubus can only go so long without a fresh batch of food. And after a week? You were starving. You couldn’t sleep that night, curled up in on yourself, whining softly as your body begged and writhed for someone to milk dry. Slick ran down your thighs, you were drooling so much, so painfully ready to pray on a tired honey sinner.

✖️So that’s why; when a certain snake boy you had been not-so-secretly crushing on came to your door in the middle of the night quietly asking you to let him help you, despite your protests, you pushed away your pride and pounced on him.

✖️There wasn’t a single moment spent wasted on foreplay, or teasing, he was already hard, both of his cocks were - at the sight of you shaking and whining, trying not to drool all over the floor. So when his cocks spring out, you wasted no time going to work on them with your mouth.

✖️Lucky for you, double the cocks meant double the cum. As soon as he whined and grabbed a fistful of your hair, you knew you had him. Swallowing everything his first cock gave you graciously, feeling that pleasureful and warm sensation in your gut of finally being fed, you let out a satisfied sigh as you pulled your mouth from his cock, now dripping with drool, and went straight for the other before he could protest.

✖️As soon as you were done pulling cum from him with your mouth, you practically pounced on top of him. Whines of “I-i’m still ssssensitive, my dear-“ made you practically delirious. Like a starved man who has finally gotten his first take of a five-star meal, you used your hand to push his cocks together, and dropped down on them with an obscene squelch. ✖️And god, the stretch was something you had been craving since you first got down here. It was almost embarrasing how quickly you came, slick practically pouring down his bases as he whined beneath you, biting his lip like he might draw blood.

✖️”feels ‘s good baby, thank you for letting me milk you..” you drawled out as he whined and nodded frantically, hips bucking up into yours as you rode him, feeling your walls clench around his cocks was something he wouldn’t have imagined ever happening. He hadn’t even been with anyone since he’d gotten down here. So to watch a pretty succubus that he’d been obsessed with since the moment he’d seen her walk into the hotel bounce so greedily on him had him cumming almost immediately after you.

✖️Needless to say, he passed out under you. After five rounds, he was nearly shooting blanks inside of you, and you were deliriously full, tummy bulging ever so slightly at the amount of cum that has been shot inside you, ten big loads not or mention the ones you’d pulled from him with your mouth.. even just thinking about it made you feel hungry again. But you had been fed, and so you collapsed on top of him, cocks still nestled inside you, gently falling victim to slumber as his arms wrapped around you.

A/N: kekekekeke.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #hazbin sir pentious #sir pentious #sir pentious x you #sir pentious x reader #snake man supremacy #AHHHHH #succubi #:3 heehee

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sebsbarnes · 3 months

Note

Hi there!

I first of all wanted to start off by saying that I’m absolutely obsessed with your work- it’s amazing!!

Secondly, I was wondering if I could make a request?

Can I request a tangerine x reader where they’re out at a bar or something and there’s this guy being really pervy and creepy and just won’t leave her alone?

Obviously the reader can handle herself but they just got back from a long and tiring mission, and she quite honestly doesn’t have the energy.

So of course tan comes to the rescue 🤭🤭

I hope this is okay, and if not please feel free to ignore this!!

Have a wonderful day love and don’t forget to drink lots of water <33

heey!! i really appreciate the kind words, it keeps me going! i hope you've had a good day/night and if not tm will be better! and i hope u enjoy this!

bar fight || tangerine

tangerine x f!reader

warnings: harassment, fighting

word count: 1.6k+

masterlist

a/n: im drawing inspo from something that happened to me one time at a bar which will be the reason tan steps in here but of course tangerine was not there to save me although that would've been lovely

"just one pint! two, two! i swear and then we all can leave," lemon pleaded, "we can leave the second i finish it. i'll even take the last sip on the way out the door," he tried enticing you, rubbing his shoulder up and down against yours.

"i reek, lemon. and tangerine looks like he nose dived into green and purple paint," you grimaced slightly at the bruises forming on tan's face.

lemon grabbed your wrist dragging you closer to the bar doors, "is it even a real bar if at least ten people don't smell awful and your shoes don't stick to the floor?"

the color of your eyes disappeared into the back of your head, "let's go."

lemon did a little victory dance before swinging the door open which tangerine held for you to walk in. the fatigue was riddled on both of your faces. the three of you had just gotten back into town after a long and very successful mission. you were all for celebrating but tonight you'd rather celebrate with a burning hot shower.

"you 'right by yourself? i'm going to head to the balcony for a few," tangerine asked, waving his pack of cigarettes in the air.

"yeah go for it, i'll manage," you replied. tangerine gave you a small nod before turning his back and sliding outside.

the inside of the bar was packed and you were shuffling around with your shoulders pulled in to try and avoid hitting people. it was loud, smelly, and yes, the floors were grossly sticky. it only annoyed you more, but, you tried having a positive attitude about it. 'two drinks' is all you kept telling yourself. after what felt like years you made it to the bar. you were sandwiched against a girl with blonde hair and a guy who weaseled his way in between you and an older gentleman. you could feel his eyes burning holes in the side of your head and the last thing you wanted to do was look over, but, it was becoming too much.

"hi!" he nearly yelled as you glanced over quickly.

"hey," you said curtly, bringing your lips into a straight line.

"i'm craig. what's your name?" he asked leaning in closer to you. you gave him your name, refusing to look back at him as you felt his eyes examine you. the drink you ordered appeared in front of you and you scribbled your name on the receipt.

"what's that you're drinking?" craig asked but you pretended not to hear him as you slinked into the crowd, hoping to lose him.

it worked for a while, you found some space near a wall to stand. there was a group of girls next to you singing loudly and dancing around. you couldn't lie and say it wasn't infectious as one of the drunk girls grabbed your hand and started dancing with you, which of course you joined in. it was fun and it kept your mind off how tired your body was.

"thought i lost you there!" you flinched away, startled, by craig's nervous laughter beside you. you looked down at the man who stood inches below you and gave him an award-winning fake smile.

"you're very pretty," he said puffing his chest out slightly.

"thanks."

"you don't talk much, eh? is it because you're nervous around me?" craig asked his eyes looking down at your legs.

"just tired!" you exclaimed with fake enthusiasm, gulping down the tequila in your cup.

"you seem a bit lonely, are you by yourself tonight?" he persisted, inching closer to you with each word despite you stepping to the side each time.

"nope!" you retorted, popping the 'p' and turning to find the bathroom.

you stayed in the bathroom for a few minutes and finished your drink. the eyebags seemed to protrude out of your face as you examined them in the mirror. now, lemon had to almost be done with his drinks. that man can pound drinks back. so, with high hopes you left the bathroom to go find a seat at the bar and wait until lemon found or texted you or hopefully tangerine was done smoking.

there was a vacant stool in the dead center which you jumped on. your elbow rested against the bar, head in hand, absentmindedly watching the tv in the corner. it was a boxing match that you had zero interest in but it provided enough entertainment. you shut your eyes tight as you felt the familiar, unwelcomed, presence over your shoulder.

"look, i think you are really pretty. hotter than anyone else here and look at me. any girl would want me and the fact you're trying to play hard to get is starting to really piss me off," craig ranted but you refused to turn your head and pretended like the noise of the bar drowned his voice out.

"you're right, i'm sorry. that was rude of me, i apologize. i just noticed you the moment you walked into the bar and i needed to talk to you. you're really beautiful and i know i'd treat you right. whoever you're dating must not be treating you right because i can feel that you want me."

tangerine blew out one last cloud of smoke and tossed his cigarette into the ashtray. it was far more peaceful outside but he knew he had to go in and find lemon, who he knew was more than two drinks in and probably friends with ten more people. tangerine opened the door back into the bar and scanned the room. that's when he saw a man with his hand on your throat.

you ignored craig's presence until you no longer could. he was silent for a few moments after his rant. suddenly, you saw a hand snake into your field of vision and you felt his hand pressing firmly against your throat. you were shocked for a moment before realizing what was going on. craig's thumb and middle finger were applying harsh pressure to your throat making it hard to breathe. then, you felt the pressure shift in his hand from choking to pushing. craig pulled you to the ground by your throat, your body flying backward off the stool and slamming into the floor.

you saw a figure jump over your body and loud commotion next to you but you were too disorientated at the moment from the wind being knocked out of you. one of the bartenders leaped over the bar and pulled you up and shielded you from the commotion. that's when you realized it was tangerine who had hopped over and started beating craig to the floor. it was like a scene straight out of the boxing match you were just watching. tangerine towered over craig in height and build and the anger in his face was terrifying.

tangerine was throwing the smaller man across the bar with punches. he'd punch craig in the face to which he stumbled and then tangerine would trip him. his body would fall to the ground and tangerine would pick him up by the shirt before launching him into the now vacant stools.

"please!" craig pleaded, blood running from his eyebrow. tangerine grabbed the back of his neck and slammed his face into the bar.

"you like hurting women? huh?" he screamed, "you think you're so tough, look at you now! fuckin' pathetic piece of shit. what? it's not fun being picked on and harassed?"

tangerine was raging. his face and chest were red with anger and the vein in his forehead pulsated. he had wild eyes similar to when he was on a mission. you watched as he slipped his hand into his pants pocket, slipping on his brass knuckles. before he was able to crush the bastard's nose lemon swooped in from behind and grabbed tangerine's bicep. the bouncers from outside grabbed craig by the neck of his shirt and kicked his bloody body out of the bar. lemon's hands were on tangerine's shoulders trying to calm his brother down. finally, tangerine's chest rose and fell at a normal pace and he turned his head and noticed you. lemon released his shoulders letting him walk to you.

tangerine cupped your face and craned his neck down a bit, "are you alright love?"

you laughed slightly uncomfortable that a big scene was made because of you, "yeah... just shocked really."

"did he hurt you in any other way?" he asked with softness.

"no. no... i didn't think it would turn into that. he had been bothering me the whole time i should've been more forceful but i was just too tired to really care," you sighed.

"no," tangerine said sternly, now eye level with you, "none of this is your fault, okay? that prick should know better than to continue to harass someone who is clearly not accepting their advances. and the fact he fuckin' put his hands on you. fuck i'll..." tangerine gritted his teeth now standing upright and looking towards the door craig was kicked out of.

"tan! no. you getting arrested is not worth it. i'm okay, okay? he got what he deserved and i really don't want to be here any longer," you pleaded, grabbing onto his forearm to force him to look at you.

tangerine caressed your head, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and anger. tangerine guided you outside and when the door shut he pulled you into a tight but gentle hug, mindful of your back.

"i'm so fuckin' sorry love. i should've stayed with you the whole night," he whispered into your hair.

you pulled back from the hug, "mmm no, hey, hey- that's not what we are going to do. you have nothing to be sorry for and i'm thankful for you and not just now when you beat dickheads up for me, but always."

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cr4yolaas · 1 year

Text

— what do they associate with you? . various bnha x reader

synopsis . headcanons of the little things they associate with you and your relationship.

characters . izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugou, shouta aizawa, momo yaoyorozu, ochaco uraraka

warnings . not proofread

notes . i caught up with the bnha manga. im not okay ☹️ i lowk hate this but i love the idea ugh 😭😭😭

01 . IZUKU MIDORIYA

- whenever he comes across some good-looking stationary (good-looking by your standards, at least), he’s most likely going to give it to you

- doesn’t matter whether he found it on the floor or in a store, you’re getting it !!

- you don’t exactly share the same passion for note taking with him, but he knows you gawk at the cute animal-shaped pens and erasers every time

- so he makes it a priority to get you a pack of cat sticky notes or pink pens when he gets the chance

- between you and me, it’s just an excuse for him to fuel his obsession with taking notes by buying more pens

02 . KATSUKI BAKUGOU

- when you first met, he offhandedly compared you to the rain — one of the many things he genuinely dislikes — because he couldn’t stand you.

- the fact that you’re dating him now is a tell-tale sign his feelings changed quite drastically

- he doesn’t like the rain any less, but whenever the sky turns glum and small droplets make their way to his skin, he can’t help but think of you

- so, when it starts to pour while he’s sitting in his dorm, he decides to send you a picture of the weather from his window

- "thought you might like it" his text reads

- and you do :)

03 . SHOUTA AIZAWA

- he can’t exactly pinpoint why, but when it comes to buying you flavored or scented things, he always chooses berries.

- candles, lip balm, car fresheners, candies, you name it

- berries aren’t exactly his favorite, so it confuses both of you

- regardless, it makes you giggle a little every time you notice it

- but when he starts to notice that berries have become a “trademark” of yours, he starts to enjoy them a little bit more

- his normal 2-in-1 hair wash turns into a matching set of berry-scented shampoo and conditioner from a fancy beauty store

- before you know it, you’re both smelling like berries

04 . MOMO YAOYOROZU

- an oddly specific one, but she can’t help but draw museums back to you

- whether its a history or art exhibit, she makes it a priority to bring you there, which results in a lottt of cute museum dates

- "there’s an art exhibit in the neighboring city this weekend, we can take the train there and visit the cafe next door afterwards!"

- if you’re an artist, that’s absolutely the reason for the connection

- but if your interest lies elsewhere, it’s probably because she likes experiencing the atmosphere of a museum with you

- her favorite pictures of you are ones where you’re admiring something in one of the many exhibits she takes you to

- she probably compliments you like, “the beauty of these paintings don’t compare to you :)”

05 . OCHACO URARAKA

- call her cheesy, but whenever she sees heart shapes, she thinks of you

- will send you a pic of something that just barely resembles a heart out of nowhere, just bc she couldnt help but be reminded of her lover

- this leads to her collecting and buying a bunch of heart shaped items to gift you, ranging from stones, to seashells, to a necklace she found on the floor, to socks with heart patterns

- you never really questioned it and she’s glad bc her reason is cheesy cheesy

- "i mean. . . well, i love you a lot, so i guess it’s just my way of reminding you every now and them without actually saying it?" she’d admit with her face all red when you do ask

- just be prepared for valentines day — she’s going all out 😰😰

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sequinsmile-x · 3 months

Note

Fic request🤭 im obsessed with the thought of Hotch letting it slip that him & Emily are dating by accidentally calling her Em while presenting a case/profile 😩😩

Hi bestie <3

As always, this got massively away from me. I really hope you like this and that it's what you were looking to read <3

-x-

Misdemeanour

/ˌmɪsdɪˈmiːnə/

noun.

a minor wrongdoing.

a non-indictable offence considered to be less serious than a felony

AKA the one where Aaron accidentally reveals his and Emily's secret relationship to the team

-x-

Warnings: none

Words: 4.5k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily checks her watch as the elevator continues its journey to the ground floor and she groans at the time.

6 am.

There was a time when she would have skipped breakfast when they were on a case, desperate to sleep as long as she feasibly could before she’d meet the team in the lobby just as they were leaving for the precinct. It was something Dave in particular would always make fun of her for, especially when her hanger would kick in just around lunchtime, or she’d snack on cookies given to them by the locals.

Although she couldn’t deny that eating breakfast gave her more energy in the morning, it wasn’t the food that pulled her out of bed. It was Aaron.

No one on the team knew about them yet, the 8 months they’d been together was something just for them. Only Jack and Jessica knew, and keeping the secret had become part of the fun. She loved sneaking around with Aaron, loved that their relationship was untouched by outside influence or the opinions of others, but she knew it couldn’t last forever. She wanted everything with him - a house, marriage and hopefully a couple more children, and she knew for that to happen they’d have to let the others in.

The thought of it made her anxious, the feeling crawling through her chest anytime they discussed when to tell everyone. Change was something that never settled well with their friends, especially since her return from Paris almost a year ago, and she didn’t want to disturb the relative peace they had all found after so much upheaval. But she was looking forward to being able to love him in public, to hold his hand in front of their friends and feel the press of his lips against her cheek when they were somewhere other than one of their apartments or hotel rooms. She knew Aaron would tell their friends in a heartbeat, that he wanted everyone to know they belonged to each other, that it was her anxiety holding them back. He was endlessly patient with her and frequently assured her they’d take it at her pace.

She blows out a breath as she leaves the elevator, leaving any thoughts about anything other than having breakfast with her boyfriend behind.

She smiles as soon as she spots him in the restaurant. He’s sitting alone in a large booth, clearly having asked for a table big enough for the whole team. She gives her room number to the waiter and walks over, smiling at Aaron as she slips into the booth, moving around until she sits next to him. This had become a tradition of sorts for them almost as soon as they got together. They’d meet for breakfast before anyone else came down from their rooms, both of them desperate to have as much time together as possible, the thought that they’d already lost so much time over the years never too far away, always lingering the back of their minds with a tinge of regret.

“Morning,” she says, as if she hadn’t snuck out of his room just 30 minutes ago, the taste of his kiss still lingering on hers as she walked back to her room, the chill of the hallway replacing the warmth of him pressed against her skin.

“Morning,” he replies, smiling at her softly, nodding towards the cup of coffee and plate with two pastries on it in front of her, “I got you some coffee and something to eat.”

If he was anyone else she knows it would irritate her. She’d been on dates before when the guy she was with would order for her without even asking, a smug smile on his face as he handed the menus back to the waiter as if what he’d just done was something close to charming.

With Aaron it was different, he ordered her things he knew she liked. He knew she drank coffee first thing in the morning despite still mostly preferring tea, and he knew she liked to start the day with something sweet to eat. It was one of the many subtle ways he would show his love for her and she adored it. He was the only person in her life she trusted to take care of her, the only person she’d allow to do so, and she wanted nothing more than to let him for the rest of their lives.

“Thanks, honey,” she says quietly, letting the nickname slip free because they were alone. Her prize is a widening of his smile, the appearance of the dimples in his cheeks that she loves to press her thumbs into when she kisses him.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, placing his hand on her thigh, the move hidden by the table, and he squeezes tightly for a moment before he strokes his thumb back and forth, the heat of his skin warming her even through the material of her pants. He smiles when she yawns as she reaches for her coffee, “Tired?”

She hums, narrowing her eyes at the sparkle in his, the soft, funny side of him she would have once thought he wasn’t capable of, “I didn’t get a lot of sleep.”

She can’t help but smile when he tightens his grip on her leg, purposely pressing his fingers into bruises he’d sucked into her skin the night before, “Me neither.”

They sit and eat breakfast together, talking about Jack and their plans for when they get home. For her, home was wherever Aaron was. She spent most of her time at his place these days, his closet half full of her clothes and her favourite book on the nightstand on her side of his bed. On the nights she did go back to her apartment it felt empty, quiet in a way she would have once found peace in but now found suffocating. She hadn’t even completely unpacked yet, a couple of boxes of her things still stacked in the home office. Aaron asked her every time he was over if she wanted him to help unpack them for her but she always said no, distracting him with a smile and a kiss, because unpacking felt pointless. Especially since she was sure she’d officially move in with him soon, the moment their friends knew about them the final catalyst they’d need.

She turns to look at him, to sneak a peek of the slope of his nose, the sharp edges of his jaw, and her eyes meet his. Every time she looked at him, he was already looking at her, adoration leaking from every pore in a way that made her fall even more in love with him.

“What?” She asks, her cheeks warm with a tinge of embarrassment as his smile gets wider.

“Nothing,” he says, his eyes flicking towards the restaurant entrance, leaning back a little when he sees the rest of the team walking towards them, “You’re just beautiful, that’s all.”

She doesn’t have time to respond before the others sit down, bringing her alone time with Aaron to an end until they either solve the case and go home or come back to the hotel that evening.

“Good morning,” Dave says as he sits down, sliding into the booth next to Emily, followed by Derek on his other side, “How did everyone sleep?”

“Like a baby,” Aaron says, hiding his smile behind his coffee as runs his thumb up the inseam of Emily’s pants. She glances at him through the side of her eyes and places her hand over his on her leg, her nails digging into his skin a little, something that only seems to encourage him more, “What about you, Prentiss? How did you sleep?”

“I slept okay,” she says, raising her eyebrow at him, “My bed was comfortable. A little too warm though.”

He shakes his head at her subtly, something only she picks up on, and she presses her lips together to stop herself from smiling. She picks up her coffee to take a sip, distracting herself with the warmth of it.

“You guys are lucky,” JJ says from the end of the table, nodding towards Spencer who was sitting next to her, “Someone on my floor sounded like they were filming a porno in their room,” she says, “I’m surprised you didn’t hear it Hotch, you’re only a few rooms down from me.”

Emily coughs, choking on the coffee she was swallowing, and everyone looks at her. Aaron pats her on the back, his touch simultaneously helping clear her chest and putting her more on edge.

“You ok, Prentiss?” Aaron asks, concern slipping into his expression.

“I’m fine,” she wheezes, reaching for a glass of water, “The coffee just went down the wrong way, that’s all.”

“Maybe this is why you never used to have breakfast with us, Bella,” Dave says, a smirk spreading across his face, “You can’t even drink a cup of coffee correctly first thing in the morning.”

She narrows her eyes at him, “Shut up, Dave.”

___

He’d once convinced himself he’d never find love again.

He told himself he didn’t deserve another chance, that Haley had been his one shot and he’d messed it up and that he’d have to spend the rest of his life alone. It was a thought that was only solidified when he’d been unable to save her, her death something that he carried on his shoulders everywhere he went, the weight of it sometimes insurmountable as he watched Jack grow, something Haley would never be able to do.

He was somewhere close to content with it. The loneliness he’d feel a penance of sorts, a punishment he deserved for not being able to keep his family together and safe.

Then Emily happened. She came back from Paris, fragile in a way only he seemed to be able to see. Everyone else wanted her back as who she was before, their own trauma around what had happened to her, the loss they’d experienced when they thought she was dead, clouding their judgement when it came to how she was doing.

Aaron knew he was in love with her the moment he sent her away. He’d visited her in the hospital, still wearing the suit he’d worn to her funeral, and apologised to her even though she was unconscious, sedated so she didn’t feel the immeasurable pain her body was in. It was the first time he’d held her hand, her skin colder than he now knew it usually was, and he’d struggled to let go.

He hadn’t wanted to lose her again, so he’d told her to tell him when she was having a bad day, initially under the guise of needing to know as her boss, a weak excuse that fell away the first day he showed up on her doorstep, Jack by his side, as he insisted she came with them to the park. Things between them had developed quickly, the friendship they’d had before Ian had come into their lives back on track before that itself transformed into something new. He’d felt the shift between them, always caught her looking at him when she thought he wasn’t looking, but he’d held back, not wanting to force her into a situation she wasn’t comfortable with when she was still trying to recover.

She’d kissed him first. Her lips soft against his one evening as they sat together on his couch, his life shifting on its axis again just mere feet away from the last time it had, the outline of where he’d almost bled out on his apartment floor by Foyet’s hand still visible to him occasionally in the dead of night.

After that, he couldn’t believe he’d once convinced himself he could live without love. Being loved by Emily was something he now couldn’t live without. She always had been a woman of contradictions, and the way she loved was no different. She was subtle about it - leaving him little notes or drawing hearts in the steam on the mirror after she’d showered. She’d make sure he ate at work and switch his coffee to decaf halfway through the day so he’d have some chance of sleeping. She helped Jack with his homework, or played video games with him, purposely losing at MarioKart at the last second so the little boy would win.

She was also loud about her love for him. She’d tell him all the time, the words she’d initially struggled to set free escaping all the time, pressed against his lips each morning as they got out of bed, or his neck as she drifted to sleep at night. She was tactile, finding ways to touch him all the time, even in front of their friends as she let her fingers linger over his when she passed him a case file or a cup of coffee. She spent money on him like it was no issue, which he knew it wasn’t for her, leading to an argument once over her buying him a $15,000 watch when he broke his one morning.

He hoped more than anything that she felt as loved as he did, that she knew how precious she was to him. How much he treasured her. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops, to tell everyone how much he loved her, and he knew he would be able to soon, when they finally told their friends they were together. He could wait as long as she needed him to, but he could tell she was close to feeling comfortable with it - her desire to move forward with him, to move in officially, finally outweighing her anxiety around the team's reactions.

He smiles as he hears her laugh across the conference room they’d set up in. He looks up to find her talking to Dave, a smile on her face as the other man rolls his eyes, clearly at the expense of whatever joke she’d told. He loved her smile. It always lit up whatever room she was in, her beauty drawing in those around her. She looks over at him as if she could sense him looking, and he sees the familiar love sparkling in her eyes. It was the same way she looked at him when they were spending a casual Saturday with Jack, or the way she would look at him when he woke up in the middle of the night from a nightmare, the ghost of Foyet’s knife hot in his chest. She’d sit up with him, her hand on the back of his neck and her forehead against his until his breathing slowed down, and then she’d pull back and look at him, her eyes full of love and affection as she talked to him about anything and everything as he came back to himself.

Aaron clears his throat and the team falls into silence as they walk over and sit down he doesn’t miss the flash of amusement that flits across Emily’s face as she takes her seat. She made no secret of the fact she enjoyed it when he commanded a room without even speaking.

“There was another attack overnight,” he says as he sits down too, “Dave, I need you and Reid to go to the crime scene, see if you can pick up on anything that the locals missed,” he waits for them to nod in confirmation before he turns to Emily, “Em, you and Morgan should go to the hospital - talk to last nights victim.” He frowns when Emily’s eyes go wide, a reaction shortly followed by everyone else tilting their heads at him curiously, looking back and forth between him and Emily, “What?”

“You called her Em,” Dave says, his eyes narrowing as he looks between them, and Aaron curses himself internally, swallowing thickly as he looks back at Emily who was staring at the table to avoid eye contact with everyone, “Oh my god.”

Spencer frowns, “I’m confused.”

“They’re sleeping with each other,” Derek says, his arms crossed tight over his chest, his jaw tense.

JJ chuckles and leans back in her chair, “Pen was convinced you were seeing someone and I thought she was being crazy.”

“I’m still confused,” Spencer says, his eyebrows creasing together, “Why does Hotch calling her Em mean they are sleeping together?”

Dave rolls his eyes, “Because he never calls her anything other than Prentiss. Emily would be weird enough, Em is a whole new-”

“That’s enough,” Aaron says, finally finding his voice, cutting over any further conversation. He looks at Emily and she’s already looking at him, and she nods ever so slightly, silent permission to carry on, “Yes, Emily and I are together,” he holds up his hand to stop them from talking again, his expression stern as he keeps them quiet, “But we are at work and there is an unsub to catch. This can wait.”

He knows they aren’t happy, a mix of irritation and amusement painted across their faces, but they nod, each of them standing up and ready to go. He gets Emily’s attention, his hand around her wrist in a display of affection he’ll allow himself this once.

“I’m sorry,” he says, swallowing thickly against the guilt that climbs up his throat, “I didn’t mean-”

“It’s okay,” she replies, placing her hand over his as she smiles at him, “I know you didn’t mean to,” she looks over her shoulder and sees their friends looking at them, apart from JJ who was furiously texting, “They know now at least.”

Aaron looks at Derek, the tension in the man’s frame clear from across the room, “Do you need me to talk to him?”

Emily smiles lovingly at him and shakes his head, “I can handle Derek,” she frowns as her phone vibrates in her pocket and she rolls her eyes as she opens a text and turns her phone to show him, “Pen knows.”

YOU’RE SLEEPING WITH THE BOSSMAN?! CALL ME NOW.

He groans, “It’s going to be a long day.”

She hums, “So long.”

___

Emily groans as she sits down on the couch in Aaron’s office, “Do you think you could ban them from talking about our relationship ever again?”

He smiles as he kisses the top of her head before he walks to his desk, putting down the case files in his hand, “Sorry, sweetheart, I don’t think the president himself could stop them.”

She scoffs jokingly and narrows her eyes at him, “What is the point of sleeping with the boss if he can’t intimidate your friends for you?”

She was grateful that they’d finished the case as quickly as they had and that they were home. She hadn’t been able to face the idea of heading back to the hotel with them tonight knowing that the team would be aware they’d be heading to the same room. The flight home had been long, an endless barrage of questions about their relationship, about why they’d kept it secret for 8 months. Overall, it had gone better than she’d expected. They were curious, maybe a little hurt that they’d kept a secret, but they were also happy for them, able to see even only with the small amount of context they had that Emily and Aaron were good for each other.

Derek had, however, reacted exactly as she thought he would. He’d been off with her all day, only speaking about things related to the case, and had been more passive-aggressive with his questioning than the others. He’d implied things she hadn’t fully understood, her confusion only deepening when Aaron had reacted in a way that seemed over the top, his protective instincts kicking in before he could fully stop them.

“It’s disappointing I know,” he deadpans, walking back over to sit next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. The rest of the team had gone home straight from the jet so it was just the two of them.

“Can I ask you something?” She says, tilting her head to look at him, and he nods, running his fingers up and down her arm.

“Anything, you know that.”

She smiles at him, “What do you Derek meant when he said it was typical for me to sleep with you?”

He has to cover a growl, the fury he’d felt on the jet coming back in full force as he thinks about it. He’d never told Emily about what Derek had said when she was on the run from Ian, when emotions were running high and everything they’d ever known about her was unravelling right in front of them. He’d been angry at the time when he’d found out about it but had kept it to himself, not wanting to hurt Emily anymore than she’d already been hurt or to fracture her friendship with Derek anymore than it already had been.

“It’s nothing,” he says, trying to push past it, and she raises her eyebrows at him, her hand reaching for his as she links their fingers together.

“Aaron, please,” she says, “You almost yelled at him, you looked angry. You clearly thought he was talking about something specific,” she looks at him and waits for him to say something else but he doesn’t. “We don’t lie to each other.”

He sighs and nods, pulling her slightly closer, “When you were on the run from Ian and we found out about everything, about the nature of your relationship with him, Derek…he said some things,” he says carefully, his heart cracking in his chest when he sees the look on her face, the pieces all falling into place for her.

“Oh,” she says, clearing her throat to try and push her emotions back down into her chest, a mix of anger and sadness burning her from the inside out, “I see.”

“You know what he’s like, sweetheart,” he says, reaching up to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, letting his fingers linger on her cheek, “He lashes out when he doesn’t know what else to do. It doesn’t excuse it, but it’s what he does.”

She nods, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she blows out a steady breath, “Yeah,” she says, smiling tightly at him. A thought occurs to her that makes her nauseous, her stomach rolling as she looks back up at him, “It’s never bothered you, has it?”

He frowns, looking at her like she is crazy, and he shakes his head, pulling her in for a kiss as if to prove his point, before he looks at her, a hand on each of her cheeks as he holds her in place, “There isn’t a single thing you could ever do that would make me any less in awe of you.”

She chokes on a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob and she shakes her head at him, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replies, leaning in to kiss her, his lips just shy of hers when there is a squeal at the door, pulling them both apart. Aaron sighs when he sees Penelope standing in the doorway, “Hi Garcia.”

“Hi,” she says, frozen to the spot, her body tense with what they both knew was excitement, as if moving would make her explode, “This is adorable.”

Emily has to press her lips together to stop herself from laughing at how uncomfortable her boyfriend clearly is. She squeezes his hand, forcing his attention back to her.

“Honey,” she says, more for Penelope than anyone else, smiling when her friend squeals again, “Why don’t you give us a few minutes?”

He frowns at her, “This is my office,” he says, and she raises an eyebrow at him. He shakes his head and stamps a kiss to her cheek, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Thanks,” she says, watching as he awkwardly nods at Penelope as he walks past her, forcing her to smother another laugh. She smiles at her friend the moment they are alone, “Okay, let me have it.”

Penelope moves faster than Emily thought was possible, already next to her on the couch and talking at the speed of light, “How long has this been going on? Why didn’t you tell us? JJ wouldn’t tell me anything you told them.”

“I asked her not to,” Emily explains, “We’ve been together 8 months, and we just…wanted it to ourselves for a while.”

She knows it’s not a great explanation, that it sounds close to pathetic when said outloud, but it’s the only way she can describe it. She knew on some level she’d miss the secrecy, the way it allowed her to protect something so precious to her for so long, but she was also excited to move forward.

Penelope hums and narrows her eyes, “I’ll accept that for now, but if you think you’re getting away with that answer on the next girl’s night you have another thing coming.”

Emily laughs and nods, “I’ll have to warn Aaron that you’ll be asking all sorts of questions about our sex life.”

“Bossman does look like he’s got some moves,” Penelope says, “It’s always the quiet, broody ones.”

Emily hums, “You have no idea.”

Penelope pulls her into a hug, “I’m so happy for you, Peaches,” she says, squeezing her tightly, “I thought you must have been with someone, you’ve just seemed…lighter recently. I never would have guessed it was Hotch though.”

She smiles as she pulls back from the hug, “He’s…” she drifts off, not sure how to put it, how to explain just what Aaron was to her, and she sighs, not letting herself overthink it, “Everything.”

Her friend's eyes go wide and she grasps her hands tightly, “Oh just look at you,” Penelope says, “I’ve never seen you this happy. What did the others say?”

“They were shocked, but happy too,” she says, her smile faltering slightly, “Mostly.”

Penelope frowns, “What do you mean mostly?”

Emily sighs, Aaron’s admission still floating around the back of her mind. She knew she’d have to talk to Derek about it eventually, have it out with him, because she couldn’t let the way he’d spoken about her stand. She wouldn’t let him compare her relationship with Aaron to what she’d had with Ian, wouldn’t let him minimise what she’d fought so hard for.

“Derek was…being Derek,” she says, scrunching her nose up slightly, “He wasn’t exactly pleased.”

Penelope hums disapprovingly, “You leave him to me, I won’t let him ruin this for me.”

Emily presses her lips together as an amused smile breaks out across her face, “Don’t you mean you won’t let him ruin his for me and Aaron?”

Penelope waves at her dismissively, “That too.”

-x-

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sweaterweatherever · 1 year

Note

could you maybe do a Tyler request that's sort of similar to the This Thing of Ours but when Tyler turns on Wednesday the reader sides with him because they've had their own agenda the whole time? im so sorry if it's too broad i just thought it would b an idea for more Tyler ones!!

Master (Tyler Galpin x Reader)

Pairing: Tyler Galpin x AFAB Reader

Warnings: Reader’s mother gets killed. Cursing. Canon typical violence. Reader gets a gun. Dark reader, dark Tyler. Smut. Masturbation. Unprotected vaginal sex. Don’t try any of this at home. Aged up characters.

A/N: I always thought any kind of prank enjoyed by high schoolers was mean, so I stand by saying Tyler has a mean streak. After this we are taking a break from him. Also, wordy, and don’t throw guns on the floor, they might go off. Been getting bolder with the whole monster fucker thing.

Requested: Yep. What better agenda than revenge? Also, to the shadows + stalking anon.

You never liked the barista at the Wethervane. He was, much like every other normie in Jericho, an asshole. You had been in the town long enough to notice. Sure, now everyone was buying his good guy act, but you remembered. You would always remember.

You see, you two had met when you both were little. Your mom used to be around the Galpin’s a lot, since she worked as a secretary on the Sheriff’s department. Often, she had to drop papers for the Sheriff to sign off, and that made her meet Tyler’s mother. Francoise was a lovely woman, but there was a sadness to her, a loneliness, that wouldn’t go away. She desperately needed friends. In a tiny town like Jericho, being an outcast and a single mother wasn’t easy, so your mom wasn’t popular either. She tried not to advertise the fact, but it was evident that something was off about her, with the way you both seemed to suck the light of every room you stepped into.

Two lonely women, who saw each other frequently. The result was predictable: They bonded over their shared characteristics, started meeting for coffee. Both mothers, both outcasts, even if you didn’t know it at the time. Unfortunately for you, it’s a truth universally know that every pair of mothers who become friends try to set up a play date for their children.

At five years old, you had been a very different creature than what you were now. You had been quiet, shy even, and obsessed with dolls. You spent hours dressing them, brushing their hair, playing pretend. Normal child behavior, even if a bit of your mother’s isolation from the world showed in the fact you weren’t used to playing with others. Tyler, though, he was. Typical boy, rowdy, loud and not normal. There was something in the way he moved, his smile showing far too pointy canines for a six-year-old, that made your senses stand on edge. A bully, you thought, seeing him for the first time. He looked like the boys who pushed girls down the slide at the park just to scare them.

In his mother’s eyes, Tyler could do no wrong. To Francoise, his toothy grin was just excitement, his odd way of moving was simply a boy being a boy. She was overjoyed she had been able to carry him to term, Francoise explained to your mother, she had such weak health. She always woke up tired, these days, with unexplained bruises and leaves in her hair. Maybe she was going crazy, perhaps she was anemic, possibly a sleepwalker, the doctors said. And so, she didn’t notice the little monster she was raising.

You had been told to be nice, to be friendly. Your mother liked Francoise, and wouldn’t it be nice if you got a friend of your own? The idea certainly appealed to you, made you willing to try. Maybe Tyler wasn’t so bad, Miss Katherine at school always said you shouldn’t judge a book by his cover.

“Do you want to play?” You had asked, offering him one of your dolls. Tyler had shaken his head.

“Dolls are silly.” Tyler said to you, shocking you deeply. You loved your dolls, and your mom, who was very into the early stimulation trend for kids, had always encouraged you to play with them, making up scenarios. It was good for creativity, she said. You didn’t know what the word meant yet, but it sounded fancy and adult like. You guessed it was a good thing. “They are for little girls.”

You wanted him to think you were cool, you wanted him to like you. A friend, mom had said. A friend of your own, someone to play with, a kid who wouldn’t be weirded out by the way your mere presence made the shadows get bigger and the fact that you weren’t afraid of the dark. So, you asked:

“What can we play?”

“Hide and seek!” He smiled, showing a toothy grin. Tyler was missing his front left teeth, and it made him look softer, endearing. It also highlighted your slight age difference, to a kid, a year was a lifetime. Older was almost always synonymous with cool, too.

“Sure.” You answered, looking around his backyard. You had never played hide and seek before, but you had watched other kids do it. The backyard was small, with not really many places to hide.

“Come on!” Tyler had said, and grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the path that lead to the forest. You didn’t protest, even knowing you would get in trouble if your mother found out. Even if the darkness did not scare you, even if shadows were your friends, she didn’t like you wandering around on your own. There were men with guns there, and bears. And not, like, Pooh. Mean bears. “I’ll count!”

Tyler seemed to know his way around the forest better than most kids your ages, but so did you. He started to lead you deeper into the trees, in twisting paths that made it hard to remember where were you.

“I’ll count to ten, and you have to hide, and not come out until I find you.” Tyler explained. “You can hide in a cave or something.” He added, a hint of maliciousness on his tone. Jericho’s forest was full of caves, unusually so.

“I…” Your expression probably told him you weren’t sure about it because he pounced on the perceived weakness.

“Don’t be a baby!” Tyler laughed. It sounded strange, mean even, in the quiet of the forest. Even in broad daylight, the only thing that could be heard was the chirping of some birds. “Or are you scared of the dark?”

“No. I’m not.” Tyler didn’t respond, instead choosing to start counting. You hurried to find a place to hide, deciding to stay behind a tree. The silent felt strange, the whole thing was weird. You were hyper alert to any sound, from the crunching of the leaves to the way the wind blew between leaves.

“Nine.” He waited a bit, his voice sounded excited. Maybe it was the way the sound carried here what made it sound so unusual, twisting around the trees and into the open, the city’s noise far away. “Ten! Here I come!” His sneakers crunched on the leaves, sounding closer than ever. Your heart raced in your chest, a ringing in your small ears. You had never seen the point of the game before, but you knew some people liked getting scared, that was what scary movies were for, your mom told you.

You ran away, ducking just in time behind another tree, pushing your hands against your mouth to avoid making noise. Tyler approached again, and so, it got started. There was something odd, something wrong with this. You didn’t feel like you were playing a game, you felt like if he caught up with you, something bad would happen. Like the scariest thing in the forest was him. Back then, you were too young to understand, but you felt hunted. Like he was a predator and you were nothing more than prey.

After a while, you found yourself in front of a cave. Just as you hesitated whether you should enter or not, someone pushed you in and frightened you terribly. You barely felt the tiny hands against your back. You fell, knees scraping against the stone. A little scream left your throat, and you tried to turn around to get out, lips trembling and eyes filling with tears. But just as you were about to exit the cave, a rock rolled in front of it, taking all the light with it. There was only one other person that could be responsible for this, and only one person that knew where you were. What if you never got out now?

Your first instinct was panic. Like any normal five-year-old, you didn’t like enclosed spaces, and much less being trapped. But instead of screaming, you remembered the reason all other kids hated you, why you were so alone: Because shadows were your friends. You took a deep breath and stayed very calm. Your eyes got used to the dark quickly, much like a cat would. With this, you realized two things. The cave was small, so much you could barely stand inside it. And the thing at the door? It wasn’t a rock. It was only cardboard. Feeling very silly once again, you pushed it away, and crawled out, into the expecting arms of Tyler.

“You aren’t crying.” He stated, looking at your ruined pair of jeans, bloody at the knees, and your tearless face. Tyler seemed angry, cheeks red, as if your lack of tears offended him. You hated him then.

“You are mean.” You said, with all the seriousness and insulting tone a five-year-old could have. “I don’t like you.”

“Oh, did baby got scared?” One of his hands went to tangle in your hair, tugging hard on your ponytail. “If you snitch, you get stitches.”

The sting brought tears to your eyes, but you stared him down anyway.

“Stay away from me! I’m telling my mom!”

“Baby is scared.” Tyler gave you a mocking, concerned look. You took a step back. There was something in his eyes that scared you, a darkness no six-year-old should have. ”If you tell, you will hurt.” And with one last push that made you stumble, he walked away.

You stayed in the forest, and only when he got far enough not to hear you anymore, you broke down and started sobbing. Safe to say, you never played with him again.

You feared Tyler for long afterward. Your fear of him only got better in middle school, when the year between you seemed less like an unbreachable distance. Tyler got sneakier at getting his way, then. He ran with the popular crowd, the one likely to bully and play nasty pranks on younger students and eventually, outcasts. Tyler was an asshole, but one that had gotten better at masking his intentions, behind the mask of a popular boy. Everyone was charmed by him, but you didn’t forget the way his eyes had made you feel, years ago.

Unknown to you, Tyler watched you, too. Your lack of fear and ability to keep a clear head when he had tried to scare you made you intriguing. He didn’t forget the defiance in your eyes when he had pulled your hair hard enough to make you shed tears. At first, it had been intrigue. No other kid had resisted him before, girl or boy. A tiny slip of a thing like you, managing to get out by herself? That had caught his attention. He had wanted to scare you so badly, but never acted on those impulses, even when he had plenty of opportunities. You sat alone at recess all the time, and never noticed him watching you. Then, adolescence started, and he got hormones. You had been brave as a five-year-old, and now you were brave and pretty, slowly blossoming into womanhood. His first crush was on you. But you never once looked at him.

Tyler’s mom died when you just got into high school. Your mother grieved her deeply, but never once shared the secret of what had killed her with you. Tyler got nastier. Alcohol, grief, and the usual power plays of high school added gasoline to his fire, he was everyone’s favorite bad boy. He went through girls like they were disposable, using and discarding them. His friends and he got drunk, pulled stupid pranks, targeting the outcasts from the nearby school more and more. His father made him untouchable, and you knew, you knew Sheriff Galpin regretted the path both had walked on. It was about that time you got into Nevermore, and started keeping a closer eye on him. If he did something terrible, were you responsible too? For not speaking up, despite knowing what he was capable of?

You never talked to him. But you knew he was keeping an eye on you. Out of all your friend group in Nevermore, you were the only one who never got targeted by his gang. It was so noticeable, people started to talk about it. You refused to comment, but you knew, you knew, it wasn’t out of friendship or some misplaced guilt. It was because he liked making you uncomfortable, liked the rumors going around, that you were his. Liked seeing you scared, trembling, every time a prank fell on one of your friends, and you ended up unscathed. He liked scaring you with the anticipation of what was to come.

Then, he went too far. Picture the scene. Outreach day, sunny skies, volunteers everywhere. Your post was at the Pilgrim World, serving tourists. A kid, a popular one at that, gets asked to paint a mural. He does, and does it well. So of course, Tyler has to go and ruin it. The charges are as follows: Destruction of private property, vandalism, assault. He is the son of the Sheriff, and Jericho’s high golden boy. A young man with a promising future, the star of the football team. His dad calls some favors, he is white and charming. The charges get dropped, no smear on his record, but off to bootcamp he goes.

For the first time in years, you breathe in relief. Finally, you don’t have to look over your shoulder all the time, answer pointed questions as to what exactly your relationship with him was. Because it’s good, too good to be true, someone has to go and ruin it.

Your mother’s funeral takes place in a sunny day, for Jericho’s standards. It feels almost mocking, to the woman she was, to the woman in which you are becoming. The kind of woman who sucks all light in a room. Your father’s new, normie, uncomplicated wife, stands next to you, two young pretty things in mourning. You hate her, oh, how you hate her.

“We want to avoid uprooting you, sweetheart. Nevermore is the best school in the country for people like you.” Your father explains, as he moves to your mother’s bedroom, as he puts his new wife on the bed. “But you can’t stay here alone, either… What happened to your mother… Jericho’s a dangerous place.”

It’s always like that. What happened to your mother, her tragic passing, she was taken from you too young. It’s never the cold, hard truth you desperately need. Some psycho killed your mother, injection of poison right at the neck. But no one says that. No one dares say your mother was murdered, no one dares speak without pretty euphemisms. You understand Tyler’s anger then.

You learn things, in the following months. First, that your reaction isn’t normal. Normal teenagers don’t obsess over revenge when their mothers are killed. Off to therapy you go. Then, that poison is a woman’s weapon. Easy, clean, no need for overpowering. Third, breaking in and stealing case files is ridiculously easy when the Sheriff has a soft spot for you, remembering how your mother used to be friends with his wife, her tragic passing and your uncanny resemblance. Fourth, that the psycho who killed your mother wasn’t satisfied with injecting her with a syringe filled with concentrated Nightshade, but that they also took her hand. As if killing her wasn’t enough, as if they needed to profane her body too.

The new herbology teacher shows up. Her special interest in your abilities, the plants she keeps in her greenhouse, the fact that is a she. It all drags you to a disgusting conclusion: You think she did it, but you can’t prove it. And if it wasn’t enough with danger lurking the halls of Nevermore, you cross paths once again with the monster in your nightmares.

You are coming out of Doctor Kinbott’s office, after a long and tiring talk about your relationship with your stepmother. You like the doctor. She always has a cup of hot chocolate for you, and cookies. She is nice, she smiles at you, uncaring that when you are uncomfortable the lights flicker and the room gets darker. You open up to her.

“Hi.” Tyler says your name, repeats it even, but you are too busy gawking at him to respond. His hair is shorter, and he has gotten taller and more muscled. Bootcamp did him good. If before he was handsome, now he is even prettier. You know half the town must be swooning for him. The darkness in his eyes, though, it is unchanged. Tyler tries to hide it behind a polite smile, but you can tell he is thrilled at your reaction.

The cup of hot chocolate slips through your hands, shattering against the floor, liquid staining the carpet. You drop to your knees, trying to clean it up, and he kneels next to you. “Careful.” Tyler says, grabbing your wrist, and you scramble back so hard and fast, you hand cuts with one of the porcelain pieces. Blood drips down your fingers and into his. “We don’t want you cutting yourself, but it is too late for that…” He finishes. His pupils dilate, nostrils flaring, almost if he can smell your fear, but you refuse to back away once again and give him the satisfaction. You freeze in his grasp. A bunny under headlights.

“Oh, dear!” Doctor Kinbott says, lured out of her office by all the ruckus. “It seems you have met each other in quite the way!” She laughs, high and airy. “Nine and half, meet ten and half!”

That brings you out of your daze, and you get up on unsteady legs. You mutter something polite. Tyler, ever the gentleman, helps you to your feet. You cradle your injured hand, shake his. Your blood stains his fingers. You look up at him and keep the eye contact: You both know what it means. I will be watching.

Doctor Kinbott is your safe place. You can tell her almost all that troubles you, almost all because you keep secret your nagging suspicions about Mrs. Thornhill. And so, you tell her about Tyler.

“I don’t like him.” You say to her, after your fourth run in with him in a week. Turns out, now he is the barista at the Weathervane, the only café in town. Can’t you just catch a break? “He… He scares me.”

“Why do you think that is?” She asks, eyes soft and never judging. “Is it because he saw you here or because he has shown interest in you?” Of course, she thinks you are afraid of everyone knowing you go to therapy or intimacy.

“No. You have to promise not to tell him, though…” You offer and she smiles at you brightly.

“Patient – Therapist confidentiality is a given here, even if the other person involved is also my patient. I would never discuss something you tell me with him. This is a safe space.” The doctor smiles kindly, and slides you another cookie. You don’t take it.

“It is because we met before. And he made me feel like prey.” You clutch your hot chocolate closer, and start telling her the story of Tyler Galpin.

Kinbott thinks you should be away from Tyler. She doesn’t tell you what he has told her, but you know the story you told her has made the missing piece of the puzzle fit into place. She moves his appointment to Saturdays instead. Not only that, but she looks afraid. For your safety, maybe? She talks to your dad, and he starts escorting you in and out the building, and when the semester starts, that duty falls to principal Weems.

You start watching him, obsessively, then. The shadows have always been your friends, they don’t mind helping you. You sneak out of Nevermore, and sit long hours perched on the ledge of a nearby building, doing homework and stealing glances at him working behind the counter. It’s soothing, being the one watching for a chance. You feel safer, knowing exactly where he is at a given time, cloaked in your shadows. Doctor Kinbott remains unknowing of your new habit because you know she would want you to stop. She would be both concerned because it’s unhealthy and because she thinks Tyler will hurt you. She is right on both accounts.

One day, your normal routine is interrupted because a car pulls over at the Weathervane. Your heart accelerates, beating harder and harder when you realize who is driving. The redheaded, awful, bitch that murdered your mother. You consider warning Tyler, when you see him being friendly to her, but decide against it because you aren’t sure who out of the two of them is more dangerous.

After that, your stalking gets more intentional. They have to be planning something, it’s weird how much time they spend together. She… She seems to like him, she handles him in a way that makes you want to scream, or tell his father. There is something in the way Thornhill touches him that feels dirty, her hands like claws on his arm, his shoulders, anywhere she can reach. You shouldn’t worry about him, this terror of a boy, but you do. The thoughts get confusing, and so, you decide to drop your stalking habits.

The day is an unusually cold one, and so, your friends decide to make a stop at the Weathervane. You don’t have an excuse to wait outside, with the first drops of rain starting to fall. You burrow yourself more inside your coat and trail after Divina and Kent into the café.

“…I’m thinking of getting a caramel latte, and maybe a cinnamon roll?” Divina chatters on, excitedly. She is overjoyed, she has always loved rain. Any water is good water, that’s what sirens always say.

“Don’t you think is way too much sugar? Your teeth will rot.” Kent answers, pulling the door open for the both of you. “What do you think?” He asks you, and you try to form a coherent response that surpasses your fight or flight instinct.

“Yeah, yeah. Next thing you know, she gets diabetes.” You answer, but your attention is not in the conversation. Instead, it is in the boy behind the counter.

Tyler looks just about the same as always, brown polo shirt clinging to his shoulders, apron neatly tied back. But the bruises and the scratches on his arms, those are new. So is the look of pure panic he is sporting, trying to hide it behind a mask of normalcy you know too well. The same one you have worn every day since your mother was murdered. Something rumbles in your stomach, something both possessive and dark. He isn’t supposed to be scared, Tyler is the one to inspire terror in others, not the reverse. And if he is going to be scared, why should other people have the satisfaction? You deserve his fear, after spending twelve years of your life fucking terrified of him from his stunt in the woods. Besides you, no one should be able to scare him.

“We will have a caramel latte, a mocha with an extra shot of espresso and a chai tea. Also, two cinnamon rolls.” Divina says, without even saying good morning. It doesn’t sit right with you. Your policy with anyone working customer service is treating them like a person. Divina is not mean or rude, but she doesn’t think before she speaks most of the time. So, even if this is Tyler, alias your personal nightmare, Galpin, you feel the need to add:

“Good morning, and please.” And smile a little, too. Tyler smiles back, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He isn’t paying attention, not even to you. You try to make small chat, but he shifts and avoids any attempt at it. Maybe he thinks this is a power play, too.

When he extends his hand to pass Divina the change, you notice his wrist is purple and green, almost as if he were held too roughly. You wonder what could possibly leave bruises in a pattern so odd.

“Man, did you see his bruises?” Divina loudly whispers when you are walking back to the table. You say nothing. Next to you, Kent snickers.

“Yeah. Who knew Jericho’s golden boy was that kinky?”

“What are you talking about?” You really don’t understand what they are talking about, but their silly mood is contagious. You can’t help but smile.

“Oh, you sweet summer child…” Divina pats your hair. “The bruises on his wrists, those are from shackles.”

Kent laughs. Suddenly, you aren’t smiling anymore.

The first body is discovered only a few days later. The press comments on the attack, hinting at a possible serial killer because isn’t it odd the killer took a foot? This time, your choice of stalking victim is Mrs. Thornhill. But regardless of what you do, she always manages to slip away. And the times she does, a body turns up a few days later, random body part missing.

Your anxiousness must show. Doctor Kinbott comments on it, but you don’t dare tell her. You don’t have the proof. Your therapy rides with Principal Weems get crashed by a pig tailed girl with the name of Wednesday. Her arrival late in the semester puts the school upside down. It’s not hard, to find out she is trying to solve the mystery of the murders.

The next time Weems takes you both to therapy, you slip her your mother’s file.

“Here.” You say to her, trying not catch the attention of the Principal driving you. You pass her a folder, in sober blue. “The notes you asked for.”

“I didn’t ask you…”

“You did. After Rowan’s accident. You were murderous when it happened.” You hope she catches the hint, and Wednesday does not disappoint, grabbing the folder with eager hands.

“Oh, right. I must have forgotten. Thank you.”

In big black letters, just before the detailed autopsy report, you placed your warning: Different MO, same signature. Killer might be closer than you think.

You hope Wednesday can get the proof you need, but you don’t want to lead her on, so you don’t name your suspect.

Tyler shows up at the Rave’n on Wednesday’s arm. He looks better, less bruised and more confident. Your eyes lock across the room, in the middle of your dance with Kent. His lips part, almost as if he were about to mouth something and decides against it at the last minute. Kent pulls you towards his chest, chin hooked over your shoulder.

“What are you staring at?” He asks, following your gaze. For someone who negates the existence of romantic love, he is quite the gossip. “Doesn’t golden boy over there has his own, dark, date to ogle?”

“He has, yes.” You answer, still holding eye contact with Tyler. He has an odd expression on his face, almost as if he has been punched. He looks good tonight, you aren’t going to lie to yourself and say you don’t find him attractive because he is. Shame that you know exactly what lurks beneath the pretty face.

“Seems like our boy has a type. Likes them dark, menacing and tiny.” Kent pokes at your ribs, still with his head on your shoulder. It makes the whole thing awkward because your body arches trying to get away from his touch, but you don't want him falling down either. It looks funny, you know that because Tyler smiles slightly.

“Asshole.” You break eye contact with Tyler to push Kent away. “Not tiny.”

“I’ll stop calling you tiny if, when you fuck him, you share details.” He snorts.

“Gross.” But your response is a little delayed, and Kent definitely notices. He gives you a pitying look, and you wonder if he knows something about you that you don't know about yourself. Both Divina and him are your closest friends, but you know they share a bond that's different from what they have with you. Do they talk about you when you are not there? Do they talk about the way Tyler looks at you, the way that you look at him, half fear, half attraction?

“Babe, the boy has been pinning for you since, like, fourth grade.” The phrase rings in your ear, makes its way to your brain like an insidious worm. It's still there when blood starts to rain from the ceiling, when Tyler rushes out of the room. Maybe that's why you follow him. Oh, how you wish Kent had never spoken them.

You cloak yourself in your shadows, Kent in too much of a panic to notice you slipping away from him. Tyler's looking at his phone, distracted. He doesn't realize you are falling into step behind him, following into the twisted paths of the woods you both grew up into. The same as you did thirteen years ago, follow him inside the forest because you were young and stupid and desperately wanted to be liked.

The night is cold, wind drifting in and out between the trees and making eerie sounds. Your dress sticks to your skin, wet with fake blood. Tyler walks with intend, dodging branches and ducking between leaves. You try to keep up, but you are getting tired. Someone screams, the sound making you jump. A boy, it's a boy screaming. And then, Wednesday's voice rings in your ears, but you can't make out what she is saying. You can barely think because right in front of your eyes, Tyler is turning into the ugliest monster you had ever seen, skin gray, form still humanoid. It looks painful, how the skin breaks, the joints shift. His eyes are dark and protruding, hungry, pointy teeth come out of his mouth. The nice hands turn into claws, and you don’t dare breathe, you don’t dare even whisper a warning because he is pouncing on the boy and slicing with his claws.

You press your hand to your mouth, biting your fingers to keep you from screaming and betraying your position. It’s over fast, the screams of the boy turning into pained, choked whimpers. The monster sniffs at the air and for one terrifying second, you think your eyes meet his. But he walks away, and then Wednesday is there and Thornhill, and it’s all so confusing and scary you end up walking back to your dorm in a daze.

The shower you take does nothing to soothe your nerves, but it helps you clear your head. So, Tyler is the monster. But Thornhill still showed up at the scene, you know the two of them have something like a relationship. Does it mean they are working together? You toss and turn until morning, sleep evading you. Your conclusion is that you need additional information. You decide to explore the woods and do some more stalking in your free time.

This is what you discover: There is a cave, much like the one Tyler pushed you into all those years ago. Someone burned the cave down. Eugene, the kid from the bee club, was trying to get inside the cave, but the person burning it down spooked him. He ran into the monster, into Tyler after that. You also know Tyler got a text before slipping away, that means he was possibly following orders. Thornhill appeared at the scene, and so did Wednesday.

You decide to tail Wednesday after that. It doesn’t last long, the girl too paranoid about being followed to be able to do it easily, but you learn the monster is called a Hyde. Hydes usually have masters, who tell them what to do. You decide to look up that information later.

The first days are hard. You don’t dare tell anyone what you just saw, too paranoid about suffering the same fate as Eugene. Tyler is dangerous, you have known that since you both were just kids, but now you know exactly how much. He is capable of killing people, yet he isn’t the one who killed your mother. You can’t decipher why Thornhill would be interested in killing her… Unless she knew Tyler was a Hyde and could become a problem later on. But that doesn’t explain what Thornhill hopes to achieve by killing all these people. You ponder, and ponder, but can’t get a why.

Then, cold, hard determination settles on your stomach. You can’t go the legal way, but you can get your revenge in other ways. You need a plan, and it won’t be easy, but you think you can achieve it. What can drive a person to become a murderer? Turns out, all it takes is getting pushed a little too much. Suddenly, murder seems like a reasonable reaction. Desperation makes funny things to people. And seeing Tyler attack Eugene had been your last straw. You won’t be able to live without fear until Thornhill is neutralized, and if no one is going to do it, you will have to take matters into your own hands.

The first step is easy. On your next therapy session, you tell the magic words to Doctor Kinbott.

“I’m afraid. Sometimes… Sometimes I get this feeling, like someone is watching me…” You whisper, crying, in what has to be the performance of a lifetime. Kinbott looks almost afraid, too. She takes your hand in hers, gently. You feel bad about manipulating her, but it’s for the best.

“Do you think you are in real danger, or is this a feeling only?” At the question, you think a little. If you tell her it is real danger right away, she might discount you as a traumatized girl. But if you appear to be considering the question, she will think you are sensible, in touch with your emotions, responsible.

“I don’t know.” You answer and start sobbing. Kinbott takes you on her arms, and you hug her back. You walk out of the session with a tired expression. Who knew fake crying was so tiring?

The second step is easy too. You know your mom had a gun. Being a single mother, even in a small town, is dangerous business. Even more when you and your daughter are part of a discriminated minority. It’s a tiny revolver, that you know your dad wouldn’t dare throw, just like all the stuff your mom had. To make room for his new wife, he just put everything neatly up in boxes in the attic and forgot about it. The attic might not be the place for a gun. But the safe in the office might be.

You are right. The revolver is there, collecting dust and just waiting to be used. You don’t take it yet, knowing your father would notice it absence. Instead, you go stalk Tyler some more, and learn two things. His bedroom doesn’t have bars in the windows, and he still keeps a planner for his schoolwork, all done manually. You snap pictures of it.

Now you know he has a date every Saturday after therapy with someone named L. And his handwriting is easy to copy.

When the first letter shows up, you are having breakfast with your father and stepmother. It’s Sunday, and you had asked Principal Weems for permission to sleep at home, citing homesickness. The letter it’s addressed to you, in wonky letters that clearly try to disguise the handwriting. You open it, and promptly start sobbing.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Did… What does it say?” Your dad gets up, reading over your shoulder. His face morphs into one of fury.

“What kind of bastard? I’m going to kill him, sweetheart! I will kill that fucking boy!”

“Love, calm down, you are scaring her!” Your stepmother says, laying a hand on his arm.

“Scaring her? She is not scared of me, look at this, at the little bastard. That Galpin boy, I bet he is behind it.” He takes the letter from your hands, and starts quoting it out loud. You start sobbing harder. “Your thighs, they are so creamy. I have seen them, when you walk out of the shower to get dressed. I wonder how they would look if I held them down and forced you to open them, if you would scream, resist me! The guy is sending rape threats to my daughter.” At that, your stepmother falls silent, and pulls you into a hug. You cry on her chest.

“How… Whoever this is, they must be watching the house, to know she would receive it.” She says, carding a hand through your hair.

“That’s it. I’m going to the station.”

“Don’t!” You beg. You have set up Tyler to take the blame for it, but it doesn’t mean you want him to, it’s only a last resource. “Daddy, don’t!” You know he melts when he hears you call him that, reminds you of better times, when he and your mother were still together, when you were his little princess.

“Sweetheart…” He pleads with you, but he is already surrendering.

“She is right. We can’t go to Sheriff Galpin and tell him his son is stalking her!” Your stepmother intervenes, and for the first time, you are grateful for her.

“We should have taken her across the country! Not uprooting her, my ass. This fucking town!” Your father complains, but you fist a hand on his shirt and pull him into the hug too. You need to keep him happy, and if he thinks you are playing family with his new wife, he will be more malleable. He goes willingly.

You sent yourself two more letters, in the same disturbing tone. You are careful to not make them seem more like twisted love letters, never threatening, so you don’t get pulled out of Nevermore. In your next session with Doctor Kinbott, you tell her about the letters, your dad’s suspicions, and you mention how much safer you would feel if you knew how to shoot.

Your lessons with Sheriff Galpin start that same afternoon.

“Look at you, all grown up!” He says to you, ruffling your hair. “Your daddy tells me he wants me to teach you how to shoot, says summer is coming, and you will be all alone in that big house.” Normally, he doesn’t like outcasts, but you look so much like your mother, and she was such good friends with Francoise…

The backyard, the place you will be learning how to shoot, looks the same it did thirteen years ago.

“Thank you so much for taking the time, Sheriff.” You say to him, brightly. Tyler won’t be home for at least five more hours, that you know. He has school, and then a shift at the Weathervane.

“Call me Donovan, kiddo. We will be spending all afternoon together.” He sets up some cans in the far wall. “Your mother had registered a revolver, so you will learn to shoot one of those, okay?”

“Yeah, daddy said he still has it. Couldn’t bring himself to throw it away.” You answer, innocently. The Sheriff mutters something uncomplimentary under his breath, that sounds too much like a dig at your dad and stepmother, but you let it slide because you think mostly the same.

“Pay attention. This, here, is the cylinder.” He indicates a twisty part. “You open it, pressing here.” He hands you the revolver, and you repeat his motions, committing them to memory.

“Okay.”

“Revolvers are easier to handle, less complex than semiautomatics. Good for a lady, they can be concealed in a purse. But since you will be at home, we will go over carrying later.” The sheriff shows you tiny bullets inside the cylinder, slowly taking them out. “God, you are not the person I thought I would be teaching this.”

“Did you teach Tyler?” You ask, curiously.

“No, kid never showed interest. And even if he did…” He trails off, and you can tell he is thinking about what happened last year, when he got sent off to bootcamp. “That’s not relevant. Remember this, always. Guns are dangerous, and it’s more probable that the gun at home will be used against you than to defend you, that’s statistics. So, you don’t pull out the gun to threaten, you only pull it out when you are sure you will take the shot, got it?”

“Yes, Mister…” At the look he gave you, you promptly corrected yourself. "Donovan.”

“Good. This, here, is the trigger. It’s hard to pull, this is why the revolvers don’t usually have other safety’s. Try it.” You put a hesitant hand on the revolver. “Go ahead, sweetheart. It’s uncharged, you won’t hurt anyone.” You tried pulling it, finding out it needed more force than you thought.

“This one here, is a higher caliber, that means, more recoil. So, try to grab it with both hands. Revolvers carry fewer rounds, but are far more accurate than a semi, so, not that bad. Always aim for the torso, even if you got bad aim, you will hit something.”

The afternoon goes by quickly. He pours you a mug of coffee, and you promise next time to bring something sweet to share. Donovan looks lonely, and it tugs at your heartstrings, that you are manipulating him too. It hurts even more to think that his son is a killer. You are certain that by the end of it, he will be even more heartbroken.

Tyler thinks he is going crazy. Your smell follows him anywhere, sweet and enticing. If he hadn't been experiencing before that afternoon, he would have thought it was his stupid crush rearing its ugly head.

He enters the house, tired after the long shift, and the scent lingers in the air. His dad is sitting in the backyard, there are two mugs in the kitchen sink.

“Was someone over?” He asks, curious about what his dad will say. Will he cover up for you? Tyler knows all about your watching trick, you think you are so sly, but he can smell you from a mile away. His eyes have always been on you, since he was only a kid who didn’t know what wanting someone really meant. He was always going to see you watching him, and most of the time, he was watching back. And the Hyde… The Hyde thought of you as his. Not prey, not quite master, something else entirely. The Hyde’s mouth watered at the thought of running you down, biting you until you whimpered, mouth filing with the coppery taste of your blood. But not hard enough to really hurt you, no. Just enough to get a bit of fear in your eyes, to get the defiance and fire you had had since you were a five-year-old shining on your features. You would be beautiful, glorious even. You already were.

“Yeah, remember my old secretary?” His father says casually. “The one that was friends with your mother?” The way the words come out of his mouth, it’s strange. Almost as if he never speaks them out loud, only to himself. And it’s true. Tyler doesn’t talk to his father a lot about his mom. More like, never.

“Yeah, was she here?” Tyler asks, feigning he doesn’t know your mother is dead. He knows all about you, he always has. From the face you make when you are about to cry, to the way your school skirt sways left and right when you walk. He knows you have a mole on your hip, that you don’t like wearing perfume unless it is a special occasion. He knows you watch him cloaked in your shadows and like to pretend that you are some big sort of predator when you are just a tiny bunny. Maybe a black bunny, but a bunny nonetheless. Prey. His for running down, his for taking.

“Her kid. She passed away, some psycho murdered her last semester, when you were on…” His father starts to explain, trailing off in remembrance of his time at the bootcamp. Tyler doesn’t want to talk about it, so he cuts him off.

“Yeah. What did she want?” A crazy thought crosses his head. Perhaps you are looking into the death of your mother, maybe he can tip you off in some way. He doesn't understand why Laurel might have killed her, but it has her fingertips all over it. She might have been trying to see if she could do it on her own, carrying the whole plan by herself.

“Her dad wants her to learn to shoot. Summer is coming, and the poor kid is all alone in that big house, after her mother’s death… I can’t blame the man for being paranoid. I can blame him for bringing his mistress and having her sleep on the same bed, though….” Tyler is not listening anymore. He isn't concerned with the gossip on your father. He thinks it’s nice, that the guy cares enough to get someone to teach you to defend yourself. After all, you are all fragile human, with powers that aren’t really good for close combat. Even if you are a firecracker, you are easily hurt. Tyler has issues with that. If someone is going to hurt you and scare you, it’s going to be him, not some robber who shows up at the right time.

Your smell chases him still. It takes a lot of self-control, to not just run to the shower and masturbate to the way your perfume drifted through the house, to the space the Hyde calls his, and impregnated the sofa’s cushions. It gets worse, this itch, the more time that passes. Every day, the scent is all over the house, your smell getting stronger with each visit.

The day he feels it in his bedroom is the day he folds, jerking off in a way that’s almost desperate, with a fist on his mouth to keep himself from crying out. He wonders how you would look, all pretty on your knees. Would your eyes be full of the same defiance, or would you melt, turning into all soft skin and whimpers? He wonders if you are watching him, now, perched in some dark corner. His blinds aren’t closed, he realizes. You could be sitting in one of the branches of the tree just across the street, defiant eyes fixated on him, cloaked up pretty on your shadows. Tyler wonders if you would like watching him, and that thought is what sends him over the edge, desperate sounds drowned on his pillow.

Wednesday does the courtesy of inviting you to torture Tyler that night.

“He is the thread we need to pull to get to your mother’s killer.” She says, full of confidence. You hope this time, she gets it right because you had heard about Xavier’s arrest and your therapist’s murder, and you were so tired you could cry. “Thought you had a right to attend.” Like she is inviting you to a damn wedding or christening and not a, you know, torture session. Your morals have been iffy lately, so you are in no place to judge.

“Sure. Thank you.” You say, and the thought of your reaction at seeing Tyler in chains is not something that even crosses your mind.

“You too?” He asks, in a tired tone, when he sees you stepping out of the shadows. “Look, you can’t still be mad about what I did to you.” Tyler is good, you have to give him that. He has you doubting that he is the Hyde and you saw him maul Eugene half to death. But there is something in the way he looks at you, hunger in his eyes, that gives him away. Tyler has always looked weirdly at you, but this, this hunger, is like almost thinks you two share a secret, that you two are partners in crime.

“What did he do to you?” Wednesday asks, but she is slowly losing control of the group. The cops will arrive at any moment now, so you manage to slip away and get the gun from your dorm and be back in position in a miraculous time.

When Sheriff Galpin comes in, guns blazing, you position yourself in front of Tyler, almost as if you are protecting him. It leaves your back open to him, and even with him chained, you don’t like it. Then, you do your favorite trick: You start crying.

When the man sees you, his expression changes. He is about to question you, but you run to his arms, uncaring about the gun in his hand, and hug him hard.

“I’m sorry sir, I tried. I tried, I promise you, Tyler is not the murderer, he was with me all those nights. I snuck him in, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I tried to stop them.”

You are sure that behind you, the look Tyler must be giving you has to be of absolute bafflement. Wednesday is staring daggers at you, but you don’t care. Your hand is gripping the gun on the pocket of your coat, and the only thought on your head is that you are getting your revenge.

“Shh, kiddo, it’s okay.” And just like you predicted, the Sheriff is unable to deal with a crying girl, so he rubs your back as another officer unties Tyler. “You three, to the station. Now.” He says, directing Tyler and Wednesday to his truck. He lets go of you, pushing you gently towards Tyler, who he now thinks is your boyfriend. Tyler catches you, pulling you towards his chest, hiding his face in your hair as if he is calming down.

You press the barrel of the gun against his stomach before he can even speak.

“For the record: I am not happy to see you.” You whisper and feel the way his body goes tense. He wraps a hand on your shoulder, he laughs a little, but it’s strained.

“What the hell are you doing?” His lips are dangerously close to your ear, and you shiver. You feel his smirk against your hair. Not knowing if you want him closer, or far away, you shove him with one last warning.

“Saving your sorry ass. We are dating. Go.”

Wednesday rides shotgun, Donovan not trusting her enough to put her in the back with you two. The ride is quiet, you keep your hands in your pockets, revolver firmly in your grasp. Tyler’s eyes never leave you, questioning and dangerous.

When you get to the station, you get sent to separate rooms. They don’t make you go through the metal detectors, there is simply no time. Not when the Sheriff's son was just kidnapped. They take your statement, and you spin your web of pretty, sanitized lies, pinning everything on Wednesday.

You tell the Donovan you and Tyler are dating, but keeping it a secret because you are an outcast, and were afraid of his disapproval. You also tell him your father is really strict, he doesn’t want you dating until you are 21. For almost every murder, you give him an alibi, so he doesn’t get suspicious of everything being too perfect. You tell him how you snuck him in to your dorm, in the middle of the night, how you know his favorite candies are Reese’s cups, and that you had gotten closer after you had asked him for one at the Weathervane, for him to tell you they were not for sale. How you had a crush on him since you were kids, but your father would have never approved. You tell him you think Tyler has been getting better, not getting in trouble until that girl, Wednesday Addams (And here you make sure to enunciate her last name loudly, to play on his prejudice) appeared. You tell so many lies, and so many half-truths already, that your head is spinning.

Tyler and Wednesday kept their statement brief, referring only to the kidnapping and torturing. When you get out, you find him threatening Wednesday, while apparently hugging her. He is angry. Oh, he is angry, and you think it’s not all directed at her, but to you too.

You clear your throat because that’s what a good girlfriend would do. Tyler's expression gets even more pinched.

“Bunny, didn’t see you there.” He lets go of Wednesday, who looks half pissed, half terrified, and pulls you closer to him, slipping a casual arm around your waist. You hug him back, tense smile on your lips, fingers itching for the gun. One of his hands goes to the back of your neck, Tyler runs a finger down your spine. It's a warning. He could snap your neck if he wanted.

“We aren’t finished here.” Wednesday says, looking at both of you like you are monsters. Which, fair, maybe you both are because you are trembling under Tyler's touch, and it's not from fear. Wednesday doesn’t ask for your motivation, but her next words are directed to you only. “He won’t get away with this.”

“I think…” You say, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Tyler leaned down to give you more access, sweet smile on his face, while his hands dug on the skin of your waist in a grip so harsh it was almost claw-like. “He has an iron tight alibi for most of those nights, one willing to testify. And that the DNA won’t be checked again, since it was dismissed and the chain of custody is probably broken already.”

“You don’t know what he is capable of.” She warned, walking away.

“Oh, I am. I got this under control.” You laughed, and Wednesday gave you one last murderous glance before leaving.

“We need to talk.” Tyler whispered to you, leading you out of the station. “I don’t know what game you are playing, little girl, but it won’t end up well for you. I could break you in half…”

“Tyler, sweetie.” You said, pressing the gun hard against his side while you walked. To an outside observer, you looked like any other over affectionate young couple. “This is why, in this relationship, I do the talking.”

“You are bluffing.” He said, leaning more into the barrel of the gun. “You wouldn’t shoot.”

“What is what your father always say?” You asked him, finger going to the trigger. “Never pull the gun unless you…”

“You are ready to take the shot.” For the first time in the night, he seemed scared. “You don’t want me taking it from you, Bunny. You are going to get hurt.”

“Oh, try. Thing is, this is not like the semi your dad uses. One pull of my finger and you are dead. Revolvers don’t have a safety. I got five bullets. Wanna bet on how many I can put on you before you even try to take it from me?”

Tyler kept quiet.

“What do you want?” He finally asked. His eyes were glazed over, his expression half fear, half want. Oh, he was sick. Probably you too. Who liked getting threatened with a gun? But from the look on his eyes, he was very much into it.

“I want Thornhill dead. And from how I see it, you have two options. You help me kill the bitch or go down with her. I don't care.” You spit out, and it feels so good to finally admit it. You had spent months saying to yourself you wanted her in jail, convincing you didn't want her dead. But you are past that point. Justice wouldn't be her living behind bars a long time. The only justice you could get was ending her life, just as she had ended your mother's.

“I can’t…” Tyler whispered, guiding you towards his house. But you could tell, that maybe, he wanted her dead as much as you did. Something rattles in your mind, a memory half forgotten. The way she touched him that first night, the way you didn't like, that made you sick to your stomach.

“Oh, come on, now you remember you have a moral fiber?” It's a shitty thing to do, but you need to press your advantage while you still have it. “You don’t kill women? Well, guess what, you are going down with her.” The barrel of the gun dug harder against his body, so hard you were sure a bruise was forming.

“It’s not that…” His voice sounded pained. “She is my master, the Hyde…”

“Can change its allegiance, I’m sure.” You stepped a little away from him, keeping your eyes on his hands. You didn’t want him trying anything.

“I… I don’t know how.”

“Look, I’m not asking you to kill her yourself. Just help me. I’ll do the killing. Besides, I bet you want it as much as I do.”

“She isn’t so bad…” He tried to joke, a hint of the golden retriever smile appearing on his face. He looked cute. You vanished those thoughts immediately. No time for distractions, not now.

“You could have been normal, you know?” You said to him, jerking to a stop in a dark alleyway. This will work better, he seems the type to be moved by the fantasies. And you, you knew how it felt to miss a mother, grief so encompassing you could barely breathe without hurting. “My mother knew about yours, she could have helped you. That’s why she is dead. For you.”

“My… Would she have?” He asked, looking gutted. The idea of someone helping him is so foreign, you wonder if no one else has offered before. Have all his relationships been transactional, so far? Tyler seems to be that way about touch, too. Always to hurt, to dominate, never touching for the sake of it. Thornhill was another example of that, you betted she had took advantage of how touch starved he was.

“She loved her. It was always, Francoise this, Francoise that. She cried every night after her death for months. She desperately wanted me to be friends with you.” Your eyes filled with tears. You took the gun out of your pocket, gripping it one-handed and pointing it to the ground. Just in case he decided to get smart and take advantage of your distraction. Fuck, you were too soft. You hated it.

“My mother, she liked you too.” Tyler offered, quietly. His eyes were red, but he wasn’t crying. “She always joked how you would have made an amazing daughter-in-law.” His tone was soft, hesitant. He had raised the stakes out of his own free will.

“She was lovely. The only friend my mother had.” Not an agreement, but not a no, either.

“God, wherever they are, they must be so angry.” Tyler laughed, and it sounded a little hysterical. You couldn’t help but join in. “Can I hug you?” He asked. Your hand twitched on the trigger. Tyler followed the motion, only reaction been raising his hands in surrender. For the first time in the whole night, you didn’t know what to say.

Tyler’s eyes were pleading. He had never wanted you more than tonight, when you had manipulated people left and right for him. For him, the Hyde screamed. The monster had already made his decision, to him, tonight had been a declaration of eternal love. This gun to his ribs, nothing more than part of running you down. He had to prove himself strong, worthy of your submission. The Hyde was never letting you go again, you were his new obsession. From this close, you smelled heavenly, the perfect mix of girl, nervousness, and determination. Good enough to eat. He just needed to catch you and claim you.

You could tell, by the way he looked at you, troubled small-town boy and hints of the monster beneath it, that he was sincere. He actually wanted to hug you.

“Sure. Since we are now dating and all…” You trailed off when his hands wrapped around you, nose burying in the crook of your neck and taking desperate inhales of your scent. It was driving him insane. He wanted you close, so close your scents mixed, so close your fear clung to him, gave him the high he wanted.

“You can keep the gun, if it makes you feel safe.” Tyler whispered against your skin, lips moving against your neck. It was soft, this time. He wasn’t gripping you harshly, like he had been at the station. The gun clattered softly to the gun, slipping from your limp fingers. He could be manipulating you, but this felt too good, too right, to not fall for it. “But… I like you. I always have. I have watched you more than I should, my Hyde is head over heels for you already.” Tyler kept talking, hoping you would see he was sincere. This was him, matching your boldness. “I would kill her for you, you know? If you asked. If you wanted me to. I would hold her down, slash her throat. Offer her body to you.” Those words were forbidden words, contemplating killing his master should be impossible. But for you, for you, he would do it. There was no hesitation.

No one had ever told you something half as romantic. So, you took your own leap of faith. You pulled him out of your neck, softly grabbing his hair, and devoured his mouth. Tyler kissed back, just as passionately. He crowded you against one of the walls, thigh slotting between your legs, and you whimpered in his mouth. The happy rumble he gave, it didn’t sound human.

“Mine,” He said, kissing a path down your neck, biting at it, hard. Hard enough to draw blood. “Mine. Mine. No one else will touch you, not even her. Mine.” He seemed crazed, like the only thought in his head was you. And it was. The Hyde was frenzied with the need to claim, to make sure everybody knew you were his.

“Yours. Yours.” You answered, breathless. Oh, you two were fucked. Badly. You knew you shouldn't want him so much, a few days ago you had watched him maul a kid half to death. It was not even an hour ago, you had been pointing a gun to him. But his lips on your skin felt right, the way he was touching you was making your brain throw all precaution through the window. You grabbed at his hair, at his back, anywhere. To wherever you could reach, anchor yourself with.

“Let’s take this somewhere else, please?” Tyler whined, mouthing at your shoulder. His hand tugged at the collar of your shirt, exposing more skin for him to mark. It makes you wonder if this is him or the Hyde talking. He has always had a dark undercurrent to him, even with the monster asleep. “Please, let me have you. I have wanted you for so long…” The last phrase caught your attention.

“Since when?” You pushed him away, just so you could try to get to his house before you two ended up fucking in a dirty alley. But Tyler didn’t seem deterred on the least, taking the chance to slip a hand under your shirt, running his fingers over the skin on your back. “Stop it, we gotta get indoors. After this, I’m not getting arrested for indecent exposure.”

“Since, like, sophomore year.” Tyler laughs, holding you closer still. He gently starts fixing your clothes back to normal. Now you know he is just making shit up because there is no way it has been that long for him too.

“You were kissing half the school, don't make me laugh.” You answer, and it comes way more bitter than you intended.

“Aww, are you jealous?” He mocks you, doing the buttons on your coat with steady hands. “Don’t worry, I never wanted them the way I want you.” Tyler presses a kiss to your forehead, inhaling your scent longer than he probably should.

“Yeah, sure. They weren’t half as crazy.” You let him finish dressing you, giving him a stare.

“I have wanted you since before I knew what having a crush was, but started wanting you like this when I got older. You got fucking pretty, but never looked my way.” Tyler knelt on the floor, looking for something in the pavement. Too late, you remembered the gun. Anxiety clutched at your insides with an iron fist. Had he only been tricking you? But once he got hold of it, he took the bullets out and slipped them in his pocket, as one does. His expression is completely blank. You wanted to laugh. Then, Tyler passed you the revolver, still on his knees, handle first. You grabbed it with cautious hands.

“Left you a bullet.” Tyler explained, hands raised in surrender. “I can smell your fear, you know?” You ignored his commentary, checking the chamber. Just one bullet, true. You wonder if truly his sense of smell is that sensitive.

“Never took you for a fan of Russian Roulette. Also, I watched you too, you know?”

“Yeah, all you know about me comes from your little stalking habit.” He got up from his knees. You stared at him. Was it possible he had only been entertaining you all this time? “Bunny, I can smell you. Well, the Hyde can.”

“Stop calling me that.” You grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers with his. The revolver went back into your coat. “Makes zero sense.”

“Makes total sense. You… To me, you have always been prey. Since we were kids. I didn’t understand it, back then, but I wanted to run you down.” Tyler rubs at his face, a scowl appearing on his pretty features. “I… Okay, if this doesn’t make you run for the hills and decide this is a bad idea, you will stay forever.” He finally says, lowering his voice to a whisper. Is he going to confess a deep dark secret? You hope so. Tyler has so many layers, he makes this whole thing fun. “I like the smell of fear. But I don’t like the scent of terrified, then it makes me sick, like too much of cheap vanilla perfume. You have always balanced it out well.”

You laugh because you don’t know what to say. Thank you? I'm glad you like the smell of my fear? This feels like such a surreal compliment you don't know what to say. So instead, you change the topic.

“Why didn’t you stop me from watching you?”

“I liked you watching…” His voice trails off, in a way you bet is calculated. Tyler is good at playing the charming guy like that. Just ask Wednesday. Then, he leans forward, to whisper in your ear. “And I was thinking, maybe today I could watch you instead…?” Feeling him so close, the insinuation on his words, it’s too much. A blush appears on your cheeks. You hear him snicker, and punch him in the arm lightly. But you let him wrap an arm around you and keep leading you.

That’s how you end up sitting on the bed, completely naked, Tyler's hand rubbing soothing circles on your ankle.

“Come on, show me.” He says, running his index finger along the inside of your calf. It’s awkward, being asked to touch yourself. You are not used to having an audience, to worrying about how you look. Tyler is still fully dressed, a sharp contrast to your nakedness and a way, you guess, to show who is in control. Even if you like him a lot, you find it hard to be aroused. To try to get yourself in the right mood, you rub your clit on circles, but it’s not doing much.

Tyler definitely notices because his hands come to grasp at your ankles, pulling your legs slightly more apart.

“That's how you touch yourself? Straight for the prize?” His tone is neutral. Not judging, but not forceful either. The choice is yours, in the end.

“… Yeah.” Your hands drop uselessly by your sides. You feel too self-conscious.

“You are…” He tilts his head to the side, evaluating. “Okay, this is not working. You are too tense.” Tyler crawls towards you, and presses a kiss to your cheek. “Would it be better if I was doing it too? Or… We could do something else?” It's sweet, for someone who had just been threatened with a gun. Odd, too, considering the kind of people you both are. But maybe, he is trying to build trust. God knows this relationship needs it.

“I want to try.” You complain, tugging at his shirt. You really aim to please him, for him to have what he wants. Not many people feel that way about Tyler. Certainly, not his father, who has talked more to you in a week than to his son in a month. Not Thornhill, who is too obsessed with her plan and motivations to care about his accomplice.

“Okay. “ Tyler takes off his shirt. “Sit on my lap.”

You hurry to obey, kissing him hungrily. He kisses back, matching your pace and nipping lightly at your lips. You open for him, letting him take what he wants. He breaks the kiss only when the need for air is too pressing, and even then, he presses his forehead to yours, keeping a close eye on your reactions. It’s strangely intimate.

Tyler grabs one of your hands and takes it to your neck, running it lightly over your exposed collarbones, down the valley of your breasts. Your fingers bend in his grasp, allowing him to go lower and lower, until your hand is just over your pubic bone. He helps your hand do the same path in reverse, until you are squirming for more stimulation. Then, he guides your fingers to your nipples and lets go of your hand.

“Go ahead, Bunny.” You squeeze your nipple, mystified by the sensation. You have never been really sensitive there, it’s not a place you care too much about. Tyler’s hand goes to pinch your other nipple. Your back arches a little, thighs squeezing his at the sudden burst of pleasure. So, that’s what this is supposed to feel like. “Copy what I’m doing.”

You obey, surprised to see it does work.

“Good.” Tyler says, mouthing at your shoulder. His eyes are dark. What is it about this that he likes so much? Control? You are reluctant to fight him over it, you like the idea of him having power over you. It appeals to your love of danger. “Keep going.” This time, his teeth dig in the hollow of your throat, and you can’t avoid moaning. You grind down against him, finding he is half hard already.

“How does this feel?” Tyler asks, scratching at your inner thighs. You pant, muffling your cries on his mouth because the answer is too fucking good. He seems to be playing your body like an instrument, zeroing in weak spots you didn’t know you had. “Do it yourself.”

You obey, raking your nails over the insides of your thighs, lightly. It feels odd. Not as good as when Tyler does it. You never focused too much on these areas when masturbating, you just kind of… Went for it.

“Can you do that?” You plead, looking at him with your widest, most innocent eyes. Tyler is a sucker for them, it turns out because he does. His nails, shorter than your own, scratch at your thighs until you are bucking your hips against his. He draws patterns on your legs, hands everywhere, but never where you need them the most. The desperation starts to show, hips shifting, trying to catch his hands and pull them between your legs. Tyler ignores it, eyes fixed on yours. He wants you to understand this is something you need to do yourself. He even takes his hands off you when you get too impatient. “Please, just… Keep touching me?”

“Fine.” He grumbles, but it sounds more amused than angry. “But I’m not doing all the work.”

This time, your hands go to your folds, spreading the wetness there. Having his hands on you, having him closer, makes it ten times better than before, and it looks like he knows it. You search for his knees, blindly, and place a hand there to hold yourself. The stretch of your back is more than you expected, but you make it work. Tyler wants to watch? You will give him a show.

Tyler smirks at you. He likes that you have taken the initiative, putting more space between the two of you, so he gets a better view.

“Good girl.” The compliment makes you preen, so you reward him by sliding a hand down your stomach, to cup your pussy. His hands tense around your thighs, breath hitching. You tease your clit with the tip of your finger, biting your lip to quiet your moan. Tyler’s pupils are blown, eyes fixated on your hand.

“Fuck.” He says, hand going to spread your labia, so he can have a better look. He seems unable to stop himself.

“Good?” You ask, teasing your clit until it is puffy and aching. There is something about having him look at you while you touch yourself that feels dirty, shameful even, but the embarrassment only adds to your pleasure. The way his hand feels, spreading you open, makes you think how much better it could feel if he were the one touching you. You feel yourself get wetter, slick dripping slightly. Tyler definitely notices because his eyes get wider and his index finger runs down your hole, not pressing, just mapping the route your slick is taking, towards your perineum.

“More than I expected. I thought about this, I thought about you watching me, all those nights… What did you see, Bunny? Something like this?” You can't answer because Tyler takes one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking and biting like you are his last meal. You grab on his hair, hold almost painful, with the way you are balancing on his lap. He moans and looks up at you. It’s… You don’t know, but it feels dirty, to be making eye contact when he has his mouth on you, saliva spreading everywhere. When he notices you have stopped touching yourself, he moves as if to pull away. Your hand drops his hair and goes immediately to your hole, pressing a finger inside.

“Please, Tyler. I… You had your fun.” You beg, and can feel his smirk against your skin. He likes you like this, all pretty and doing what he says, but he wants you to put more of a fight. Tyler liked you at first because you weren’t afraid of him, you were defiant. This version of you… You aren’t afraid, he can tell, but it’s like you have forgotten you have a spine.

“I guess you have been a good bunny….” Tyler does quick work of his pants and boxers and soon, he is slipping inside you. It’s easy, with how wet you are, but he keeps unmoving, eager for your reaction. He hopes you will try to take control this time. He wants to force you to stay down, to be harsher. Own you.

You don’t disappoint, bouncing desperately on his cock.

“Didn’t you want to claim me so much?” You want him to let go. Sure, it was sweet, this that he had been doing before, casual dominance getting at you. But you fell in love with the guy who locked you in a cave when you were five years old to get off on your screams, the one that jerked off to the thought of you spying on him. “At this rate, I’m the one owning you.” You need him desperate, you want him angry and riled up, so, you do the thing that you know will make him the most mad. You make a grab for his wrists, pushing him to lie on his back.

“Sometimes, I think you don’t have any sense of self-preservation.” Tyler grunts, and fights your grip. It gets messy, you are both rolling around on the bed, his hands desperately grabbing at your hips, you are pushing him down. He slips out of you at one point, you try to force him to go down, and he won’t just let you that easy.

You figure it does something to the Hyde, the idea of forcing you to submit, nipping at your neck, teeth digging hard at your nape. You arch into his mouth, confused by the sensation. It feels good, to be caught finally, but you bet this isn’t a normal reaction. Tyler rolls you over, eyes dark, and pins your wrist over your head. That, coupled with the satisfied smirk on his face as he fucks you, tells you he is making a mockery of what you had been trying to do before. You scratch at his back, angry at him, and at yourself, at the world, really. Your nails draw gashes across his skin, but it only seems to egg him on more.

“You are mine. You are mine.” He bites your shoulder, pointy canines harsh enough to draw blood. That, coupled with his hand rubbing circles on your clit, is what makes you fall apart. He does too, muffling his moan in your mouth.

“You know…” Tyler presses a tender kiss to the wound of your shoulder. “Loyalties change.”

You snort. “Does the Hyde have a new master?”

“By death.” He promises, kissing your neck next and making you squirm. “Didn’t take you for the type to want shared custody. She has to go.” And oh, it feels sweeter, better than the orgasm you just had.

#my writing #wednesday netflix #tyler galpin #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin x y/n #tyler galpin x you #im so tired #tyler galpin imagine #tyler galpin smut #tyler galpin x fem!reader #wednesday addams #kent fisher #divina fisher

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cheesesoda · 9 months

Text

Strawberry Marshmallows

rookie!leon x fem!cutecore!reader

request by: anon

request: “hey love ! i was wandering if i could requests a "hellokiity/cutecore/strawberry" fem reader x rookie leon? basically a reader who is obsessed with anything pink and cute :) im thinking just some very heavy flirtnig that makes leon blush a ton ok thanks bye 1!!!”

a/n: this is so cute!! i’m goth but i hope i do this justice because this idea is adorable 😭 also i did this as a non-apocalyptic/nothing bad happens au!

summary: leon develops a crush on the cute receptionist of the rpd.

genre: fluff!!

cw: flirting, slightly suggestive?

—————————————————————————-

it was finally his first day. leon kennedy’s lifelong dream of becoming a police officer was finally coming true. he drove to the station, excited to start his career. when he walked into the raccoon city police station, he was met with a reception desk, but behind it sat a beautiful young woman, dressed in light pink, and decorated with accessories of the same color. she looked fairly young too, probably about his age. he took note of how her desk was also decorated with pink stationary, hello kitty plushies, and next to her was a bag of hello kitty strawberry marshmallows. unlike the somewhat drab and plain police station, her desk was very visually appealing and colorful.

“hi! what can i do for you?” she greeted him with a smile once she noticed his presence. her smile made him nearly melt into the floor. “uh- i’m the new officer, leon. leon kennedy.” he stutters. “oh! it’s so great to meet you, leon! and congratulations! i’ll get you checked in and you can go up those stairs, turn right and go to the stars office!” she explained as she typed away at her computer, her pink nails tapping against the chunky computer keys. little did leon know, she wasn’t necessarily checking him in, she was notifying the team that the new rookie arrived.

“thanks,” he says and stands awkwardly for a moment. “i- uh- i like your decorations.” he compliments, gesturing to her desk. she looks up at him, a glimmer in her eye and a smile. “for real? thanks! most people would think i wouldn’t be allowed to decorate my desk like this and dress like this working as a police station receptionist, but they can’t resist me.” she winks at leon and his cheeks turn a soft pink hue. she eats a small pink marshmallow out of the bag as she finishes up logging him in. “you want one?” she smiles softly, holding out a tiny soft marshmallow to him. “uh- i- sure” he chuckles and thanks her. she hands him the marshmallow and he eats it hesitantly. “i might not be the youngest in the station anymore, how old are you, leon?” she asks. “21” he replies. “me too!” she exclaims as if he has just said he loves her favorite music artist.

suddenly, marvin branagh walks up to the reception desk. “you must be leon kennedy. lieutenant marvin branagh. nice to meet you.” marvin says with a small smile as he shakes leon’s hand. “nice to meet you too, lieutenant.” leon smiles. “we should get going, i’ll show you around and you can meet everyone else.” marvin says. secretively, y/n gets up from her desk and makes her way to the west office, where everyone was, preparing for leon’s arrival. a banner saying ‘welcome leon’ hung from the ceiling, as well as other decorations such as balloons, streamers, etc.

once marvin and leon reach the west office, they open the door and suddenly the lights turn on and everyone cheers, “welcome leon!” leon chuckles in disbelief. “i- thank you, i don’t know what to say.” he smiles. he spots y/n immediately—how could he not? she grins at him and waves excitedly and he waves back a bit.

everyone starts celebrating and mingling with the new rookie. leon can’t help but let his eyes wander to the receptionist though. “i see you looking at our receptionist.” chris teases, putting an arm around leon’s shoulder. the blond blushes and looks away. “it’s alright, man! go for it, rookie!” chris laughs and pats him on the back before walking away.

y/n approaches leon, two pieces of cake in hand. “i got you some cake, leon!” she smiles and hands him one. the cake is vanilla with little strawberries inlayed on the top. the words “congratulations, leon!” decorate the center of the top in pink icing (though, on leon’s piece, it looks like it just says “congr”).

he took a bite of the cake before complimenting it. “wow, this is really good…” he says. “really? thanks! i made it myself.” y/n smiles. ‘she made me a cake? she doesn’t even know me but she made me a cake…’ leon thinks to himself. he blushed at the thought.

his first day and he already has a crush.

4 months later…

leon walks into the station on monday and sees y/n at her pink desk as usual. “good morning, leon!” she smiles at him, as usual. “morning, y/n” he smiles back. she has another bag of strawberry hello kitty marshmallows, and a cup of some pink colored tea that leon never knew the name of, as usual. in the 4 months leon has worked at the rpd, if he has learned one thing about the beloved receptionist, it’s that she is a flirt. like, a big flirt.

a week after he joined the rpd, the team invited him out for drinks. y/n went too of course, and leon found out that she is a very… physically affectionate drunk. her hands crept up his thighs, on his arms, even on his cheek at one point and he could feel the sweat forming on his face. he wrote it off as just her being a touchy drunk.

that was until a couple weeks later, y/n asked him about his girlfriend. “oh, i actually uh- don’t have a girlfriend.” he smiled awkwardly. “seriously? damn, you’re so cute, i never would’ve guessed.” she said casually as she typed in her computer. he blushed harder than ever. ‘she was calling him cute?’

another occurrence was about 2 months after he joined. y/n dropped off some papers at leon’s desk. “thank you.” he said. “no problem, pretty boy.” she winked. he died.

then, roughly 3 months after he came to the rpd, the flirting happened again. leon walked into the station and was met with y/n’s beautiful face, as usual. except today, she was leaning back in her chair and groaned. “long night?” leon asked with a slight chuckle. “i wish, if only you were there, we both would’ve had long nights if it were up to me.” y/n winked at him and his heart stopped. “it was just some stupid guy last night who was hitting on me and i could just tell he was some arrogant prick.” she sighs. “i just want a guy who is sweet and nice to me,” y/n smiles softly. “you’d be such a good boyfriend, leon.” he was sure he was redder than a tomato. ‘we both would’ve had long nights’. dammit, now he’s thinking of what it would be like to have sex with her. but he’s also thinking of what it would be like to be her boyfriend.

despite all the heavy flirting and hints, leon was still way too nervous to confess. that is, until february 14th rolled around. he decided he would tell her. leon came into work that day as usual and y/n gave him a strawberry hello kitty marshmallow, as usual. they went about their normal days but once y/n was walking out of the station to head home, leon called her name and caught up to her. she wore pink earmuffs, a pink scarf, and white leg warmers to help protect her from the cold february weather. “i uh… i don’t know how to say this so i’ll just get to the point…” leon takes a deep breath once he reached her, the white snow slowed him down a bit but that didn’t matter. “you’re so sweet and adorable and beautiful and i just always want to be around you. ever since my first day, i’ve wanted to ask you this because i really like you, like, i really really like you. so, y/n, will you go out with me?” he says and she grins warmly and sincerely.

she wraps her arms around his neck and gives him a soft but loving kiss. he stands there in shock for a moment, since he was expecting rejection. “of course, leon! i was wondering how long it would take you.” she giggled. “oh and i um got you some things.” he said as he held out a fairly large my melody plushie, a heart-shaped box of chocolates, and, of course, some hello kitty strawberry marshmallows.

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy re2 #fanfics #chris redfield #leon scott kennedy #re4 remake #rookie leon kennedy

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teddyeyeseddie · 10 months

Text

To Hell I Go

Part One: Cheyenne

Bull Rider Steve Harrington x Reader

masterlist

(a/n: if im one thing im obsessed with cowboys so writing bull rider steve has been so much fun for my californian turned southern heart. also ,everyone say hello to @lofaewrites when you see her in this fic hehe! Also, if you can spot the zach bryan mentions throughout this series, ill kiss you bc I love that man)

Now Playing: Open The Gate

"Now I ain't never feared nothin

that was four legged and buckin

throw me on a hurricane

and I'll ride it til the coast”

He was a Harrington and if Harrington’s did anything, they earned their keep. Steve Harrington grew up on a ranch in eastern Texas, his dad never giving anything to him. Summertime was filled with breaking horses and shoveling hay, Steve never knowing the fun in summer vacation. Winter brought cold mornings, Steve cursing his father at the crisp hour of 6am as he fed the horses. Harrington men were tough, their name well respected in the town.

That was until Steve had something to do with it. While Steve earned his keep on the ranch, he was a wild one off of it. By the time he graduated highschool, Steve had sought out any and all adrenaline highs his small town had to offer. There weren’t enough cliffs for him to jump off of, there wasn’t a dirt bike that went fast enough, and there wasn't a horse that bucked hard enough to tame the fire that bloomed in Steve’s veins.

He was 18 years old the first time he rode in his first rodeo. He lasted 6.6 seconds earning him a score of 72 . He came in second, going home with a medal and a gift card to the town’s local steak house. Once he started, he was hooked. The high he felt when he rode couldn’t touch any other feeling in the world.

From the moment he came in first in his first competition, he was set off in a whirlwind of bulls, dirt and blood. He worked his way up the ranks, becoming the top bull rider in the country, going for 95.7 points to win the PBR national championship.

“And here to present the awards for Jefferson’s Junior Rodeo, Steve “The Mudslinger” Harrington!”

Steve takes the microphone, hand on his belt buckle as he begins to announce the scores and winners for the teenagers.

The crowd cheers when Jamie Bounds is announced as the first place rider, he had become Steve’s protege, the two of them training when Steve was actually home.

The Bounds family was intertwined with the Harrington’s, their families doing business together for several years. Jamie worked on the ranch in the summertime, Steve getting to watch him grow up into a well rounded 17 year old.

“You did good out there, bud,” Steve’s hand comes to clasp Jamie’s shoulder, the smile on his face wide as the two walk towards Steve’s pick up.

Steve drove a 1984 Chevy K10, he had fixed it up nice when he was 19. Despite his rise to fame in the bull riding world, he stayed humble, still driving and fixing up his beloved truck and even living with his family on their Ranch. When he was home, he worked the land and helped with the business aspects of running the largest ranch in northeastern Texas.

Steve drops Jamie off at home, deciding to head home early instead of going to the local bar. He crept into the main house on the ranch, being careful as to not disturb his mother and father. He slips into his bedroom, immediately toeing off his boots and stripping himself of his dirt ridden clothes. His belt buckle hits the floor with a thud, Steve wincing at the loud sound.

He pads into the bathroom, wetting a washcloth and wiping down his face and back of his neck. He contemplates a shower for a moment but decides it can wait until the morning. He brushes his teeth before making his way back to the bedroom and slipping into bed.

The next morning, he showers and quickly gets dressed. He tucks in a plain black t shirt into his blue jeans, adjusting his belt and placing his hat on his head. He makes his way downstairs, the smell of coffee wafting into his nose. He approaches his kitchen and finds his mom and dad sitting at the kitchen table. Steve takes a seat beside his mother, reaching for the coffee pot as his mother pushes a mug in his direction.

“Mornin’ Momma,” Steve leans over and places a kiss to her cheek before pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Dad,” Steve simply says, his dad responding with a low grunt. He rolls his eyes, getting up from his spot at the table to grab a plate and dish up what his mom had cooked for the morning.

The workers got there at 6 in the morning, Mom always having a hot meal ready for them every Saturday. It was a simple skeleton crew on the weekends, the real hard work coming during the week.

“Are you going to watch the amateur rides today at the summertime rodeo?” his mom questions from her place at the table.

“I’m thinking about it! I’m gonna go visit Eddie and Charlotte and then maybe I’ll head over there,” Steve responds as he leans against the counter, devouring the toast on his plate.

Steve finishes his breakfast, bidding his mom and dad goodbye before making his way out to his truck. He loads up, peeling out on the gravel as he makes it onto the main road.

He pulls into Eddie’s driveway, a small craftsman that Eddie and Charlotte put a lot of love into. The front garden had just been redone, the two of them bickering over what flowers to plant this year. Steve had finally had enough and picked the flowers himself the day he came over to help.

His boots thud as he walks up the stairs, softly knocking on the door. Charlotte answers shortly after, a baby on her hip as she swings the door open.

“Harrington! I didn’t know you were back in town,” she exclaims, drawing him into a hug with the arm that isn’t supporting Crue.

Steve ruffles Crue’s hair as he walks through the front door.

“Lottie babe, who is here this damn early?” Eddie shouts from the living room, Steve rounding the corner, coming into Eddie’s view.

“Well I’ll be damned, Steve “The Mudslinger” Harrington! In the flesh!” Eddie gets up from his place on the couch, extending his hand to Steve in order to pull him into a bear hug. Eddie pats him a few times on the back before pulling away.

“What brings you into town? Weren’t you just down in Tampa riding in a competition?” Eddie questions as he directs Steve to the couch, the two of them sit down, Lottie’s eyes silently telling the both of them to not put their dirty boots on her coffee table.

“Yeah, I don't have another competition til next month. Riding in Cheyenne’s “Daddy of em All”.” Eddie nods, looking to lottie.

“Honey, could you bring me and Steve here some sweet tea?” he bats his eyelashes at her. She hands Crue off to him before turning on her heels towards the kitchen.

“You talked to your daddy about taking over the ranch?” Eddie asks as he tries to distract Crue from pulling on his hair.

“No, don’t really want to yet. I’m at the top of my career and there’s no way I’m slowing down or settling down, no offense,” he says, motioning to Crue.

“None taken, but how much more exhilarating can it get? I mean one time on Ajax and I was good. Half the bulls you ride would have killed me. ” Eddie says as Charlotte comes back in with two glasses of sweet tea. She takes Crue back, trudging back to his room in order to put him down for a nap.

“Wanna go to nationals again, won’t turn down the invite to worlds this time if I win,” Steve reveals, taking a sip of his sweet tea. His eyebrows raise as it touches his tongue, looking to Eddie.

“Right? Lo makes the best sweet tea in Jefferson,” Eddie says as he takes a whopping gulp of his own drink.

“Anyways, regionals this year. To Hell I Go is going to be there,”

“To Hell I Go?”

“That’s the name of the bull,”

Eddie and Steve fall into easy conversation after that. They talk about how Eddie’s job at the Ranch has been. Steve got in late Wednesday and spent all day Thursday preparing Jamie for his competition that night, he barely had time to even say hi to Eddie.

The two finish their sweet tea, Steve checks his watch and sees he has been visiting with Eddie for 2 hours. He decides he better leave if he wants to make it to the start of the amateur competition. He bids Eddie and Charlotte goodbye, stepping out into the blistering Texas sun.

It’s times like this where Steve wishes his pick-up had air conditioning. Steve gets in his truck, rolling down the driver side window and backing out of Eddie’s driveway.

He makes his way into town, the wind blowing in his hair as he hums along to the radio. He pulls up to the corral in less than 15 minutes, pulling into a grass lot where volunteers are instructing cars as to where to park.

That’s when Steve has to slow down. Right ahead of him, walking towards his truck is a girl he’s never seen before. Her sundress skims her thighs, glowing skin glistening in the sun, hair kept up by a pair of raybans. His stomach does flips when she laughs, his mind short circuiting as he drives. As fast as she appeared she was gone, mixing in with the group of spectators that were walking towards the event center.

Steve pulls into a spot beside a jeep, jumping out of his truck before making his way to the corral. He knows the people working the ticket booth, the pair allowing him to walk right in without paying. He stuffs a 50 in their tip bucket, smiling at them as he walks inside. He gets stopped a few times on his way to his seat, little boys and dads in awe when they see The Mudslinger in person. He takes a few photographs and signs a few baseball caps before he is set free by the group of children and men.

He watches as 15 men try their hand at lasting on their respective bull. The ride of the night being Big Tex. He lasted for a whopping 8 seconds on the bull Ajax, a known rough rider around Jefferson. Steve had once lasted for 10 on the same bull but who's keeping track? (He is)

He meets up with Big Tex after awards, Steve slapping him on the back as he pulls him into a hug.

“That was some great riding out there, Franklin.” Steve says with a sly grin.

Big Tex puts him in a headlock, Steve groaning as he tries to get out. The two roughhouse for a bit until they finally calm down.

“You’re back in town so soon? Shouldn’t you be out celebrating your big win?” Big Tex asks as he takes off his gloves, throwing them down on the bed of his truck.

“Had to get home. Got a big business meeting coming up with the Bounds, had to be there for it. Plus, didn’t wanna miss the summertime rodeo,” Steve jumps up on the bed of Big Tex’s truck, reaching behind him in a cooler in order to pull out a beer.

“Wait wait wait, for old times sake?” Big Tex stops him, holding up his key in a silent suggestion.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Steve agrees. Big Tex hands Steve his key, Steve puncturing the bottom of the beer can, tilting it up so as to not spill any of the contents. Big Tex does the same, the two of them carefully knocking their cans together in a “cheers” before expertly shotgunning their respective beers.

Steve gets home that night thanks to a buddy who stayed sober, the man dropping him off at his front porch. Steve stumbles in, loudly opening the screen door, it ends up slamming shut behind him, he prays it hasn't woken up his parents. Steve finally gets the door all locked before he makes his way upstairs, his boots clunking up each step.

Steve sleeps peacefully that night, the alcohol running through his blood aiding in his slumber.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #Steve x reader #steve x you #steve x y/n #steve smut #steve fluff #steve angst #steve harrington fluff #Steve harrington angst #steve harrington smut #teddy eyes writes 🧚🏻‍♂️✨#lo 🦉#Spotify

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emsgwenstan · 5 months

Text

Personal or professional?

Chap 2 | chap 3 | chap 4

Larissa Weems x fem(carpenter/joiner) named reader.

Words: 2k

Warnings: panic attack, anxiety.

Note: what is violet making? Haha. God the obsession is becoming clear I’d say. X

———

Thursday came and went quickly, it’s currently Friday and 4 in the afternoon, with each passing day it seems to be getting colder and colder. Larissa sent me a screenshotted booking at a restaurant In Burlington reserved for 6:30, by the looks of it, its 5 star and very luxurious, she also said she’ll pick me up. I’m knocking off earlier than usual, hopefully finishing in half an hour. I sent her my address in return.

Im so excited, but I know it’s strictly a professional dinner between two adult woman, who might I add, has already shared an awkward moment that I can’t go back from. I’ll just pretend it never happened. But I wanted it to. I gathered the mahogany off cuts from the racks and placed them on my bench to start Monday, prepped the sandpaper and sander blowing out all the dust from the previous projects just to fill in time until I leave.

Dragging my bag slung over my shoulder and pulling out my hair tie to release the tension in my head, I turn off the lights and shut down the compressors finally leaving the vicinity until next week. Ducking out the front, I unlocked my car and threw in my belongings before starting the short 4 minute drive home. Regathering my things and making it to the front door I fumbled with the keys before dropping them to the ground. Not now. Short tempered me bent down, snatched the keys and practically ripped open the door.

Stepping inside placing my Keys in the dish on the hall stand, I took a deep breath trying to calm down. Wandering further into the house I made it to my room carelessly flinging my bag on the bed. I went looking for my tv remote to flick on for background noise, but of course it was no where in sight. 20 minutes of searching, I found it on the floor under my bed, irritated again, I put on a random movie and tore off my work clothes to have a shower and wash my hair, hopefully a scalp massage will help with my impending headache.

Stepping out and wrapping myself in a towel in front of the vanity, I wiped the mirror of steam just for it to re-form again, I used another towel to dry my hair as much as I could before blow drying it. My headache is mostly gone but I still have irritability in my system almost as if I’m on the verge of a panic attack, I can’t pin point the exact reason behind it, but I just need to push though and finish my hair and do my make up, I’m sure everything is going to be fine.

Doing the finishing touches on my makeup my hands start trembling wildly when I remember i haven’t eaten a thing today, probably just low blood sugar. Except my breathing becomes erratic, I walk out of the ensuite and sit on the edge of the bed for 5 minutes. Feeling up to it i pace to the dresser and pull out my underwear and slip them on and walk to my closet to find something to wear. I haven’t touched any of this for a very long time, I hardly remember what i have, most of my clothes are black with bits of burgundy and purples, possibly one or two things white or cream.

Dress after dress, skirt after skirt, blouses and pants strewn around my room and on the floor, not a fucking thing is right, isn’t what I want, doesn’t look right or good, fits weirdly. I hadn’t relised how much time i spent on looking and trying on clothes as there was a knock at the door, my stomach churned at the thought of not being ready for Larissa. I’m always on time, if not always early, I throw on a robe and hesitantly walk the length of the hallway to the door, I looked in the mirror on the wall seeing my eyes are bloodshot and a frown line indented between my brows, she’s going to be so disappointed in me.

Upon opening the door Larissa was breath taking, her hair styled in a low bun with her usual side part and dressed in a navy blue dress shorter than her normal work ones, white heels higher and a blue with white detailing coat to tie it all together, her lips painted in a darker shade of red as well as darker eyeshadow, also holding a small white purse. I could have collapsed at the sight of her, but knowing I have to face the inevitable disappointment, I clung to the door’s architrave.

“Violet… are you alright?” She asked concerned at my state. I let out a small huff annoyed at myself for causing a problem. I looked deep into her eyes telling her without words that I’m really not ok. “Come in.” I said opening the door widder for her to step in. She did, walking in past me she turned on the spot, observing, trying to understand the situation. I move toward her taking her wrist pulling her towards my room. Larissa took in the little bits she could view of my home, before I led her into the bedroom. I let go of her wrist and walked further into the messy room.

Turning to face her i splayed out my arms, gesturing to the state of everything. “None of it fits.” I said dropping my arms to my sides. “What do you mean darling?” She asked, still a little confused. “I mean every single thing in my wardrobe is to big, I haven’t a thing to wear.” I said, crouching down and pick the items of clothing off the floor angrily tossing them to the bed. Larissa walked a little further to bend at the knees and crouch down to take my hands in her own. “Violet.” She said. I didn’t stop, still trying to pick things up. “Violet stop sweetheart.” She gently commanded. At that I did, Larissa slowly stood pulling me with her and placing me down on my bed in a sitting position. She took to sitting beside me still holding my hands. “I’m sorry, I just- I just don’t have anything, I wanted to be ready before you got here an-.” I blurted. “It’s ok.” She said. “Don’t worry about it.”.

I sat in silence, until I could feel my nose go funny and my eyes starting to water. I’ll be damned letting Larissa see me cry. I shot up causing her to jump a little. “Just give me a minute sorry.” I shakily said walking briskly back into the ensuite and closing the door. I turned the tap on and looked at myself In the mirror, the tears flowing down my cheeks and a sob trying to crawl it’s way up my throat, I cover my my mouth trying not to make a noise. I was in there for about a minute not wanting to keep her waiting, cleaning the tears that have slightly ruined my make up and made mascara run all the way down my neck, I pat myself with the edge of a hand towel, turning off the tap and plastering on a smile, I re-opened the door to find Larissa had picked up most of the clothes on the floor.

She faced me with a sympathetic smile and tossed the shirt she was holding on the bed before coming up to me and stopping. Extending her hand up to my face she used the pad of her thumb to wipe a smudge of black from the corner of my eye, she used her other hand to cup my cheek and pull me into a hug. It’s been so long, it’s been so so long, I’ve missed this. Her hand wrapped around the backs of my shoulders and one on my head. I exhaled before breathing her back in, her scent, her perfume, her smell.

I pulled away not looking at her, feeling like it’s enough physical touch for now, how is it I’ve known Larissa for less than a week and she already feels like home, I don’t understand. “Just give me a moment, Ill actually put clothes on.” I said pulling out a sweater and sweat pants from the pile. Turing around I walked back towards the door stopping outside it telling her to make herself comfortable in the lounge room and I won’t be long.

Larissa complied and took a seat on the couch, she absorbed her surroundings, taking in my own decor, the large book shelf full of books, the arm chair in the corner with a tall lamp standing beside it, the large fire place with a big dark green and tan rug resting in front of it, the vaulted ceilings and simple yet elegant light hanging from one of the beams. Moving on the spot, was the kitchen behind her, the black marble bench tops secured to forest green cupboards and the same for the overhead cabinets with glass pains in the doors and little plants next to the sink in the island bench. She saw a lot of me in the rooms and smiled at the thought.

I opened the door stepping out in the old baggy clothes. Sitting next to Larissa I stared at the flames flickering within the fireplace. “I’m so sorry Larissa I didn’t plan this, I should have bought something yesterday.” I said. “What do you have?” She asked. I shifted to face her. “What?” I wondered. “What do you have in your pantry, I’ll cook something for us?” She questioned. I sat there looking at her wondering why the hell she hasn’t left angry yet. “I don’t care about going. I just hope your ok, would you like me to stay?” It was silent before I whispered. “Yes.”. Larissa pulled out her phone and obviously cancelled the booking.

I got up and opened the pantry, I could hear Larissa’s shoeless feet pad behind me and come to a stop. I took a step back letting her look for herself. She seemed to pick out a pack of fettuccine and a few things like crushed tomatoes, garlic, onion and herbs, stepping back she placed the ingredients on the bench. “Up for spaghetti?” She asked, I smiled and turned to the freezer and picked out a pack of mince. “And meatballs?” I asked. Larissa chuckled “and meatballs.” She replied.

Standing in the kitchen together was nice. She took the reins and somehow managed to make her way around, finding all the utensils, pots and pans she needed. I sat on top of the bench watching her flit about, I did ask if she wanted help but Larissa declined the offer. After a while I could tell she was getting hot and grabbed her shoulder spinning her around to face her back towards me as I peeled off her coat, Larissa let out a breath. “Thank you, I was getting a bit hot.” She laughed. I folded the coat and hopped off the bench to lay it on the back of the lounge. Walking back I stood beside her at the stove. “You know for some who has a big kitchen and makes them for a living, I hate cooking.” I stated, chuckling looking at her side profile. A grin spread across her face.

Larissa stepped back and leaned against the island bench with her hands clamped to the edges, she observed my jumper with a smirk. “Do I have something on me, is it stained?” I asked looking for possible marks. “No it’s just, the Colour… it’s violet.” She giggled. “Oh shut up.” I said rolling my eyes. “Anyway.” I started. “How was work today?” She took a moment to visibly recall her day. “It was… something.” She trailed. “I had detention with a group of four boys and it seemed to have turned into a therapy session. It was so odd, but very eye opening I guess, I didn’t expect it in the slightest.” She finished. “Wow, headmistress and therapist. What else?” I asked spinning around to pull out two wine glasses from the cabinets above me. Larissa shook her head and let out a little tsk. “God knows, I’m constantly surprised at the things that go on in my life.” She said.

“Are you a wine person by any chance?” I asked temporarily off topic. “Yes.” She answered. “Red, white or rosé?” I asked placing the glass on the counter. “Red, please.” Larissa hadn’t noticed the wine rack under the bench she was leaning against, I bent down and was just about eye level with her abdomen when I pulled out a bottle beside her. “So constantly on your toes than?” I asked referring back to the initial conversation. “Always. I think my job is easier when I have students that are troubled and I can connect with them about something so small, that gives them a sense of reassurance their not alone. It also feels less dawning on me, just so I don’t seem annoying to get them to open up.” She ended. I passed her a glass and watched her take a sip, her eyes involuntarily closed and she let out a small hum at the taste. I could feel my cheeks heating.

“That’s good than, I love kids, all ages to. I have a niece and she’s four I love her to death, I loved her mom and other auntie to bits to when they were kids.” I said reminiscing when Louise and jade were little. “Oh you have siblings?” She asked. “You don’t?” I asked back. “No, only child I’m afraid.” She said taking a sip and placing the glass back on the counter to tend to the stove and turn it off. “Well technically, their my half siblings on my dads side, but I will still call them my sisters no matter what. I mean I practically raised them.” I said pulling out two plates and cutlery. “So your the eldest I presume?” She asked dishing up the plates. “Yeah, I was ten when the first was born and twelve with the second.” I said picking up the plate. “Do you mind if we sit in the lounge room? Is so cold in the dining.” I asked. “Of course.” She said picking up her plate and wine glass, I did the same and placed my own glass on the floor plucking two cushions from the couch and tossing them on the floor for us to sit on.

“So where are they now?” She asked, digging into her food. “About 5 hours away.” I said. “So your not from Jericho?” She questioned. “No I moved here about 15 years ago.” I said not elaborating on why. “How is it I haven’t seen you around before?” She asked. “I don’t get out much.” I answered, beginning to eat my dinner. Fuck it was good, Larissa knows how to cook. For a while we just sat and ate, I stoll glances of her and tried so hard to not make it as though I was staring.

Our dishes discarded on the the floor and legs tucked behind ourselves, Larissa broke the silence. “I hope it was ok for me to stay, you could have told me to leave if you wanted to be alone.” She said peering over at me. The fire light was licking at her skin so beautifully, the glow made her look even more incredible. “I would have if I didn’t want you here.” I said sincerely. Larissa looked at her watch and her face contorted into a sad expression. “It’s getting quite late I should probably go soon, I’ll help tidy the kitchen.” She said. “No don’t even think about it, I can do that, you’ve done enough already, I appreciate the offer though.” I said. Larissa looked away for a moment, but her eyes fell upon a book I had resting on the small coffee table beside the lounge.

“Is that the book you bought the other day?… may I?” She asked gesturing towards it. “Yeah go ahead.” She pulled the book toward herself and flipped open to the page that had a bookmark wedged with it. “For eternity, the most beautiful things to me about you, are the things you won’t ever know about yourself. Things only I know of, because everyday I read you like a book that has never been read. Your beautiful cover with your inspiring title and amazing story held captive my curiosity. Now everyday I yearn to learn from your mystery.” I watched as she was reading, her eyes scanning through the piece of literature and her red lips forming the words, I had in fact already read that particular poem, but when it came from her I felt like I could just float into an abyss somewhere, I could hear it forever. I could hear her forever.

“I like that.” She said softly, she flipped the page back and read a couple more silently, before closing it and resting it back on the table. Larissa slowly stood and picked up my plate taking it with her back to the kitchen. I rose slowly having to hold onto the couch for support, work has really taken a toll on my body. Larissa came back to toe on her heals and rounded the lounge to meet me holding out her coat for her to slip back into. “I’ve had a wonderful evening Violet.” She said looking into my eyes. “Ditto… and I’m sorry again, but I’m sure your cooking was better than what that restaurant had to offer anyway.” I said with a smile. “Thank you, it was quite good wasn’t it?” She said with a self satisfactory smirk. “Absolutely delicious, are you going to be alright driving home, not tipsy are you?” I asked. “No I have an impeccable tolerance, thanks for the concern.” She said pulling out her keys from her pocket.

I lead Larissa to the door and open it for her. We both stood awkwardly in the doorway waiting for each other to say something. “Thank you again for the wonderful evening vi. I’ll be seeing you soon I hope.” Vi, oh my god, my nickname, this along with darling and sweetheart, I may faint. “Yes I’ll let you know when I’m ready to install at the school. I have something else for you to.” I said. “Really, what is it?” She questioned. “Uh uh, it’s a surprise, be patient and you’ll see.” I remarked with a sickeningly sweet tone. Larissa laughed and nodded. “Ok than.” She jested. Another stretch of silence radiated between us. Larissa leaned forward and without thinking of what was going on I stood completely still, she kissed my cheek and winked, Larissa without a word stepped out of the threshold and paced to her car.

Opening her door, she looked back at me. “Excuse my language, but it’s fucking freezing.” She called out. I just about died laughing, causing her to giggle. “It’s ok, I mean it is really fucken cold.” I said mocking her, crossing my arms to somehow get warmer. Larissa took the opportunity to slide into her car and turn it on, reversing out I could just make out her hand waving goodbye as she drove off. I returned the wave and closed the door locking it behind me. A feeling of emptiness washed over me as I wandered back into the kitchen, I gathered all of the dishes and put them into the dish washer and wiped down the benches.

A yawn escaped my mouth when I threw on another piece of wood on the fire, walking to turn off all the lights and make my way to my room, my eye was caught by Larissa’s purse resting on the floor next to the cushion she was sat on. I picked it up and smiled at the label Dior of course. Hesitantly I opened it and saw the contents within, a lipstick, wad of cash and a small vile of perfume. The perfume was the only thing that interested me, I wanted to smell her, feel close to her, closer than I know we’ll ever be.

I’ll find time to return it to as soon as I can possibly tomorrow, but for now I’m going to bed, my cold, empty and lonely bed.

@lex13cm @im-a-carnivorous-plant

@barbarasstar @giogwensversion @sabraaabra

#larissa weems #gwendoline christie #principle weems #wednesday #larissa weems x y/n #larissa x reader #gwenchrist(ie)#wlw fanfic #larissa weems x reader

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