Vills

Sfgae & Yellowjackets enjoyer k🐇15

[doveofnestmount]

MASTERLIST

requests are open

Resident Evil

re8 masterlist

The Really Loud House

Teen Spirit, Lynn Loud masterlist

Ginger Snaps

Ginger Snaps masterlist

Twilight

Bella Swan x classmate!reader

Bella Swan x werewolf!reader

Bully Scholarship Edition

Jimmy Hopkins x preppy!reader

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

ARE WE OUT OF THE WOODS YET? ( Jimmy Ink / Kellie x Reader )

AUTHOR NOTE! Can ya'll see this post? Cause it's not popping up in the tags on my end! <3 pairing: Jimmy Ink / Kellie x Finger! Reader prompt : One bed, one snoring man downstairs, and the question 'what are we?' lingering around in the air. word count: 1,000+ words

The old water park pool was one of the rare places that was still standing⎯for the most part. Sure, it smelt wet and like mold. And sure, the ceiling was caved in slightly from water damage. And sure, you were mostly to get severely sick from inhaling all the mold that was growing in the water damaged ceiling. But, it was better than a patch of mud in the rain with the tarps. Or so, Jimmy insisted, despite everyone’s weariness towards it. You’d endure some mold. You’d find some good in staying in the night here. 

Maybe, be able to find some things to salvage⎯a pool cover you could use for waterproof blanket or maybe a piece of a pool ladder you could use a weapon of some sort if you were lucky. For now, you needed to figure out where you were going to sleep tonight. Everyone claimed rooms or what could be turned into makeshift rooms. Storage closets got turned into bedrooms. Mother-eaten couches got turned into luxurious beds. Old pool noodles got turned into pillows or mattresses. 

Jimmy, of course, had claimed the head office and pull-out couch. Jones and Snake had claimed a pool jungle gym, using a pool slide as a private room. Jimmy Jimmy had taken an old locker room. Jimmy Fox had claimed the lazy river pool. Jimmima and Jimmy Shite had claimed an old lounge chair by the poolside. All that was left was a storage room that must have been an old break room for lifeguards, and you were determined to claim it for yourself. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ 8 : 00 PM

Pulling off the itchy wig on your head, you push open the door to the old storage room, a scowl instantly curls up at the sight of Ink laying on the couch. Your backpack was missing, so was your jacket that had been hanging to dry. Two thoughts popped in your head, where the fuck was your stuff and how did she not notice that you had already claimed this room? Opening her eyes up at the sight of you, she flashes a big cheeky grin, like she knew something that you didn’t know just yet. Ginger-haired bitch. God, you wanted to pluck off those freckles from her face. Tucking her arms behind her head like she was tanning on a beach, it only worsened the scowl on your lips. 

“Claimed.”

“What?!” You protest, “No, I claimed it first! I put my bag down and my jacket!”

“Well, you weren’t here when I set up, neither was your stuff.” She argues back, scoffing.

“Because I was helping Jimmima clean off the lounge chairs, and my shite was here.” You argue, “You can’t fucking take this from me! I don’t wanna share a room with Fox, he fuckin’ snores and drools in his sleep!” 

“Duh, it’s why I’m fuckin’ taking this room.” She huffs, rolling her eyes hard.

“Ink! Come on, I claimed it first.” 

“Well, I’m not moving. Quite comfortable here, actually.” She shakes her head stubbornly, “You’ll have to drag me off.” 

Biting back the harsh comment on the tip of your tongue, you clench your jaw tightly, teeth grinding together hard. No, no, no, ( Y/n ). Don’t do it. Don’t fucking do it. She was trying to provoke you on purpose. Forcing a breath in through your teeth, she shifts on the couch once again, kicking her feet up⎯not for practicality, but to provoke. She knew what she was doing. She wasn’t that thick-headed. Smacking her dirty sneakers off the arm of the couch, she loses the smug grin on her face, an icy scowl replacing it. 

“Get the fuck out.”

“Oooh-hoo, grown some balls have you?” She mocks, a light laugh in her tone.

“I’m not fuckin’ laughin’, Ink, get the fuck out. I claimed it.” You argue, shaking your head.

“And I fuckin’ told you, you’ll have to make me.” She argues back, “I’m not moving, ( Y/n ).”

Narrowing your eyes hard at her words, you grab her ankle, dragging her hard off the couch. You were far too tired for any of her bullshit and there was no way in hell you were going to share with Fox. He’d do what he always did. He’d cuddle close for warmth, all innocent like⎯puppy dog eyes and sweet words. Then bear hug you until he was snoring in your ear and drooling down the side of your neck like a rabid dog. He did it with Shite. He did it with Jimmy Jimmy. He did it with Jimmima. He did it with Ink. And he’d sure as fuck, do it to you. Hitting the ground with a soft grunt, she kicks back at you in anger, her sneaker hitting you dead in the face hard. 

Letting out a pained yelp at the impact, you drop her ankle, clutching your throbbing nose with your hands. Son of a fucking whore. Your eyes watered involuntarily, a faint taste of blood in your mouth from biting down on your cheek. Trying to blink away the tears in your eyes, you could feel a second heartbeat in your nose, it throbbing every second. Spitting out some blood on the floor, she smiles proudly at the sight of you bleeding, only fueling the anger within you. She wanted to play dirty? Fucking fine by you. You could play dirty as well. Tackling her to the ground hard, you grab a handful of her wig, yanking it off to pull at her real hair underneath. 

“You bitch!”

“Oww! Fuckin’ cheatin’, no hair grabbin’!” She yelps, grabbing a handful of your hair back in retaliation. 

“Fuck that! You kicked me!” You argue, not caring about any ‘rules’ you may have broken.

“You fuckin’ grabbed me!” She argues back, as if it was a good enough excuse to kick you.

“You fuckin’ stole my bed from me, you ginger-haired bitch!” 

Hissing as her nails dig into your scalp, you were sure that she was pulling out chunks of your hair by now, only fueling you to not let go. If she gave you a bald spot, you’d give her one right back. You did not go through the hassle of hiding your unshaven hair from Jimmy just for her to fuck it all up. Pulling hard at her hair, you play a tug-a-war with each other, yanking and pulling at each other’s hair in retaliation. She’d pull on yours, you’d pull back on hers. Then, the cycle repeated. Yanking your head back to an awkward angle, you do the same to her, the both of you tangle together like a painful game of twister. An elbow jammed here, a foot pressing on there.

“I’m not giving up the room!” You argue, gritting your teeth in pain.

“Neither am fuckin’ am!” She argues back, “There’s only one bed left and you’re not fuckin’ taking it!”

“Neither are fucking you! I claimed it first, put my shite down and everything.” You argue back, refusing to back down. 

“Well, I already unpacked!” She snaps back, refusing to back down either. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!” 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ 10 : 00 PM

Staring up at the ceiling in dead silence, neither one of you acknowledges the fight, or the fact that your shoulders were touching from how tightly packed you were on the old couch. You could just about feel every time her chest rose and fell. Up and down. Down and up. If you did not hate her so much, you’d have found comfort in having someone so close. Jimmima was a kicker in her sleep. Shite slept like a stone statue. Fox was a cuddler, but it was more like smothering than cuddling. Jimmy Jimmy talked in his sleep. And Jimmy..he swore that he didn’t have them, but everyone knew, everyone knew that he had nightmares. Ink was the only one who was decent enough to share a bed with. Playing around with the gold chain around your neck, you don’t dare to move, fearing she would take the space the moment she gets the chance. 

“Your elbow is pressing against my ribs.” She cuts the silence short, making you scowl. 

“And your stench is pressing against my nose.” You argue back, knowing it’d piss her off.

“I do not smell, I’m cleaner than you.” She scowls, her nose scrunching up in annoyance.. 

“Bull-fucking-shit.” 

“No, it’s not.” She scoffs, rolling her eyes.

“You smell of sweaty balls and an infected’s arse.” You counter back, “Licking Jimmy’s teeth with my tongue is better than smelling you.”

“You take that fucking back.” She hisses, her eyes widening in anger.

“Nope! Can’t make me.” You shake your head, “I’ve already said, you reek and I’ll tell all the others tomorrow morning how you smell.”Clenching her jaw tightly in anger at your insult, she rams her elbow hard into your side, making you wheeze out in pain. Totally worth it. Smugly smirking at provoking her, you push your elbow deeper into her ribcage, scooting closer to smush her against the couch cushion. You liked getting her angry. You liked the way that her jaw clenched. You liked the way she mumbled to herself in anger. You liked the way her eyes darkened as she restrained herself. You liked the way that she dug her nails into the palms of her hands. You liked every second of it, because it was fun⎯and a little part of you liked her. Even if she was more closed off than the rest of the Fingers.

Letting out a muffled grumble of annoyance as you press her against the cushion, she shifts to lay on her side, her back to you. Taking full advantage, you scoot even closer towards her, forcing her face fully into the old couch cushion. Thrashing around like you were trying to smother her to death, you roll your eyes hard at her, pushing harder to make a point. Blinding grabbing around, you yelp as she grabs a large handful of your breast, squeezing hard. Not the cheeky little squeeze Fox would do when you were wrestling, or the jealous one Jimmima did when comparing the size of your boobs. No, this was the kind of squeeze that others did whenever you gave charity. 

“Get off, Ink, that hurts!” You whine, trying to smack her hand off. 

“Not until you get off the couch and leave me the fuck alone.” She scoffs, trying to push you off the couch. 

“Bitch.” You hiss, pushing back.

“Cunt.” She snaps back, giving your boob another hard squeeze.

Letting out a pained yelp at the feeling, you bite down on her hand, trying to get her to release her grip. Kicking you off the couch hard with her knee, you whine as you hit the floor, pissed that she won the fight. You had been hoping to sleep here tonight. Smugly looking over the edge to look down at you, she flashes you a grin, only making you more pissed. God, you wanted to strangle and kiss her at the same time. Grabbing a handful of her cropped top, you drag her off, refusing to give up just yet. You still had a little bit of a fight in you.

Landing on top of you, you tense up instantly at her weight pressing down on you, your eyes widening. The last time someone had been on top of you like this, they were trying to kill you. Neither of you dare to move, just staring back at each other in silence with wide eyes. Dryly swallowing, you open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.Your tongue feels like it was made of lead. Even if you could speak, what would you say to her? You win or some bullshit? Looking over your face carefully for a second, she pulls back slowly, sitting beside you.

“It’s too fuckin’ late for your bullshit.” She hisses, “Shut. Up.”

“No.” 

“( Y/n ), shut up.” She snaps back, her voice raising like she was your Mum.

“You took a room, my room, that was already claimed. You’re at fucking fault, not me. I’m not gonna shut up about it, I’m not Fox. You can’t intimidate me.” You argue back, shaking your head.

“I don’t know where your shite is, honestly.” She scoffs, “The room was empty, I thought it was unclaimed. Now, will you shut the fuck up and go to sleep already?”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ 3 : 00 AM

Shifting to lay on your side, you silently stare at the side of her face, counting the hundreds of little freckles that littered her skin. When she wasn’t brooding or scowling hatefully at you⎯she was rather pretty. Though, you would have liked to see her face before the upside down cross was carved into her skin. You had been a later edition to the Fingers, fighting some prick named ‘Jimmy Crude’. Tall and lanky like Shite, but with nasty pus fill sores all over his face. He’d died swift and quick after you embedded a knife into his armpit, left you a baggy pair of black trackies and a blonde wig. So, you never got the chance to see her before⎯before Jimmy. She must have been pretty. Jimmima had been pretty before Jimmy. Ink must have been too.

“Mmghh..fuck off..” She grumbles, shifting in her sleep. 

“Wanker.” You whisper, watching her to see if she’d wake up.

“Mm..” 

Flicking your gaze from her braided back ginger hair down to her lips, you resist the urge to trace the scar on the left side of her bottom lip. You remember how she got it. You remember the way she tried to act unaffected, like there wasn’t blood gushing out from her bottom lip. You remember the way she’d lick at the scab for weeks on end. Slowly glancing back up to her eyes, you watch the light furrow of her brows, the way her nose twitched softly in her sleep. Toying with the drawstring of your trackies, you shut your eyes softly, attempting to doze off to sleep. 

Listening to the sound of her breathing, you slowly start to relax, finding peace in it. Then, a loud choked sound comes from outside the room making you bolt upright. Infected? Or was it something worse, other people? Reaching instinctively for the pocket knife hidden in your bra, every part of you was tingling, telling you that you weren’t safe. Jolting up at the feeling of the couch dipping from your shift in weight, she furrows her brows in confusion, her eyes still droopy from sleep. Staring down the door, you expected an infected to come running in, but they never do.

“There’s something out there.” You whisper, not quite ready to relax again.

“Infected?” She blinks away the sleep in her eyes, already looking more alert.

“Don’t know.”

“Wait.” She raises a finger to her lips, signalling you to stay quiet.

Following her lead, you stand deadly still in place, hoping to catch another listen of the choked sound. It’s silent for a moment, then you both hear it. It sounded like one of the infected, gurgling and loud. People didn’t make those noises. Clenching your jaw tightly at the sound, you slowly stand up from the couch, inching yourself closer to the door. Grabbing your wrist to stop you, you furrow your brows, confused by why she was stopping you. Didn’t she want to check what it was as well before it got to the others? Shaking her head softly, she takes a step towards the door, opening it up casually. Furrowing your brows at her, she listens for a second, before scoffing.

“That’s just Fox. The wanker's probably sleeping under the slides, making it echo.” She dismisses, trying to coax you back to bed.

“But, what if⎯” 

“Hey, hey, listen to me, Jimmy Jimmy rigged the doors shut. Nothing’s getting in, not here.” She shakes her head, “You’re safe. You’re safe here with me. Come back to bed.”

“Can’t. Something's trying to get in here.” You argue, not quite ready to relax just yet.

“( Y/n ), come back to bed.” She whispers, pulling you closer by the waist.

Weakly shaking your head in refusal, she takes the knife from your hand, throwing it onto the floor beside the couch. Perhaps, it was a force of habit to be wary⎯to always double check something before it gets the chance to harm you. Dragging you back to the couch, she pulls you down firmly, tucking you close to her side as if it was the most casual thing. Tensing up at the sudden closeness to her, she lays down on her side, facing you directly. Shifting your eyes from the ceiling to her, she stares at you silently, her eyes flickering over your face slowly. 

“Sleep. Now.” She orders, her nose scrunching up from annoyance.

“Can’t.” You argue, shaking your head.

“You need to.” She argues, “Fuckin’ late and I don’t know when Jimmy will make us leave. Sleep while you can.”

“I can’t..” You argue, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Why?” She raises a brow, her lips curling down slightly. 

Because she was laying really close to you. Because you could feel the warmth of her skin pressing against yours it was so hard to focus on anything else. Because your body was urging you to go and double check that it really was just Fox snoring. Because you couldn't, no matter how much you needed and wanted to. Shifting your gaze away from hers, you stare up at the ceiling, counting the dozens of cracks in it. Her arm firmly drapes over your waist, her fingertips rubbing half-circles over your hip. It was intimate, too intimate for whatever the fuck that you two were. Friends? Enemies? Kinda enemies? Sometimes friends? Frenemies? Fuck, just hours ago, you both were wrestling each other for the couch. Now, you both were cuddled together on the same couch. 

“( Y/n ).” She presses, poking your cheek to gain your attention.

“What the fuck is this, Ink?” You blurt out, not knowing what else to say.

“A conversation, dickhead." She scoffs, rolling her eyes softly. 

“Nah, this, you fuckin’ holding me.” You argue, “An hour ago, you had me in a headlock and were trying to choke me. The fuck is this?”

She goes silent, only worsening the grumbling in your chest. You liked her better when she was cursing you out, when she was glaring daggers at you. It felt..unnatural to be laying in her arms, like the two of you were a couple. Shifting to turn away from her, she furrows her brows in annoyance, wrapping her arm around your waist to keep you from being able to move. Staring at you with a mixed look of annoyance and something you can’t quite name, she shakes her head, that stupid stubborn streak of hers rearing its head.

“Like, I'd rather you be choking me than acting all..all nice to me.” 

“You want me to be mean to you?” She raises a brow, confused.

“I just..the fuck is this, really?” You question, “Why?” 

“Because I don’t need you stabbing me in your sleep with your stupid knife. Now, stop being a dickhead and go back to sleep.” She huffs, pulling you close to her chest.

“Is that it? No other reason?” You ask, not really sure what kind of answer you wanted to hear.

“...Yeah.” She nods, but it doesn’t sound convincing in the slightest. 

---

When you click the tags, does this fic pop up in the 'Latest' tab? ( I think I'm being shadowbanned or something. )

Yes!

No!

Voting ended onMar 1

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

dedicated to @sonnensche1n

imagine being the only other surviving finger with Ink & Spike...

You had been forgotten, not just by the other Finger’s. But, by Jimmy as well. It was why he bloody named you Jimmy Still⎯after how quiet and still you were at times. It wasn’t per se that you didn’t speak, but rather than in all the loudness and chaos and liveliness of the other Fingers, you were rather quiet compared to them. You watched, silent and devoted. You thought before you did anything. You lingered more towards the shadows. You just were..still  compared to them.

It should have been insulting. It should have hurt your feelings. It should have made your blood boil the way that you were given a muted old gray tracksuit. The way that you didn’t even have to shave your head, just given a shite wig to put on. The way that no one picked you for charity. The way that you just became forgotten. But, it didn’t. There was peace in knowing that no one noticed you. No one expected anything of you. You could slip away, in the middle of the night, and none of them would even notice your absence. It was a freedom. It was a blessing, until it wasn’t. 

“Spike…was it?” Ink mumbles, her eyes flicking down to the ground. 

“Yeah.” He whispers, his voice weak.

“Kellie.” She licks her bottom lip, tugging off the wig on her head.

The sound of her real name snaps you out of your daze. Swallowing the dry lump in your throat, you didn’t even notice that you had been hiding in the shadows of the tower of femurs. As soon as Jimmy had started screaming and rambling out madness, you had shut down, immediately going into self preservation mode. You stayed quiet. You didn’t move. You just disappeared despite standing just there in their eye line. Bumping into one of the towers as the pair stare at each other in silence, the pile of skulls fall making a loud rustling noise, drawing their attention to you.

“What the fuck did you two do? You..You both..What did you two do?”” You whisper, eyes flicking between them and the cuddled bodies of Snake and Jones. 

“Jimmy Still..” Ink tries, dropping the knife in her hands.

“No, no, you fuckin’ killed all of them.” You stumble back, “You fuckin’ killed them. They were my friends⎯They were our friends.” 

“They weren’t our friends anymore, Jimmy Still.” She tries to reason, but it only makes your cringe at the sound of your given name.

There was no bloody use in her calling you that anymore. Not when she had just killed the last of the Fingers, the last of your friends. Hearing the pained whimper of Jimmy, you turn your gaze towards him, finding him curled up in a ball. His head tucked into his arms, knees curled up into his chest as if he was trying to comfort himself. You should go to him, try to protect him from them. But, your legs don’t move. It felt like your shoes were made of lead. Flinching as her hands cup your face, she forces you to meet her eye, her gaze soft. The same kind of softness that she rarely showed or would never admit that she showed. Pulling the wig slowly off your head, she pushes back tousled strands of hair from your face, her thumb stroking your cheek.

“Jimmy Still..” She whispers, her voice dropping to a more tender one.

“Don’t call me that.” You shake your head, flinching as she steps closer. 

“Then, what do we call you?” 

“( Y/n ).” You hesitate, “I was ( Y/n ) before this.” 

“( Y/n ), you have to believe us. They weren’t our friends anymore.” She tries to reason, “We had to do this. We had to, they wouldn't listen. He wouldn’t listen.”

“What about Jimmy? Where are we supposed to go now? There's nothing left.” You argue, hot streams rolling down your cheeks. 

“We’ll find something.” She wipes the tears away tenderly, “We’ll make something. Just..Just come with us, okay?”

Shaking your head in refusal at her pleads, you couldn’t find it in yourself to trust her anymore, not after this. Sure, you may have not believed in Jimmy as much as the others. It was stupid and totally a lie. Jimmy was not the son of Satan, he was just a man pretending that he was. But, still, it was better to cling onto the lie than to let yourself wallow in the horrors of reality. Plus, that lie got you a family. It got you Fox, and Jimmima, and Jones, and Snake, and Jimmy Jimmy, and Shite, and Jimmy. Now, they were gone⎯because of her  and Spike. Your family was gone. Your home was gone. Your lie was gone. And a tiny little part of you didn’t want to accept that.

“( Y/ n ), when have I ever fuckin’ lied to you, huh?” She presses, “Come with me.”

“There isn’t anywhere left, we fuckn’ burnt it all down.” 

“We’ll find somewhere, I promise.” She argues, shaking her head. “Come with us, come with me. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

----

[blondecinephile]

⋆˙⟡

₊₊˚⊹⋆🦌⋆⊹˚ ₊

[doveofnestmount]

wifey

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

I don’t care how disgusting or fucked up a fic is. NO writer should EVER be harassed for writing taboo fics, especially when the warnings are properly tagged and you choose to go ahead and read them on your own free will.

you’re not morally superior for harassing real people for the sake of fictional characters and fictional stories. you’re just a bully.

[doveofnestmount]

crazy, she fits right in

Sue Sylvester niece cameo needed 7 years ago

[doveofnestmount]

DARLING BUDS OF MAY

bella swan x werewolf!reader

“All the lilies bloomed and blossomed” With the Cold Ones, Bella wonders why you’re acting so differently

You’re Jacob Black’s older sister. Two years older than Bella, four years older than Jacob, and two years younger than Rachel and Rebecca.

Bella absolutely adored you growing up. Her crush wasn’t really loud or awkward, more like devotion. Soft glances, lingering hugs and scribbling your name in her sketchbook.

When she stopped coming to Forks, you acted like it didn’t matter, but it did. You missed her more than you’d admit, even to your sisters.

When she moved back full-time, it felt like a second chance. You two fell back into sync, like no time had passed. It felt easy again.

Even though Jacob would always try to third wheel, Charlie always asked him to help with something. He believed you two needed to make up for lost ‘girl time.’

But when she started hanging around with Edward Cullen, you changed.

Bella noticed instantly. You were colder, snappier, distant. The smiles stopped reaching your eyes.

You didn’t really know what or who Edward was. All you knew was that he made every cell in your body scream.

The moment Edward left Bella, the guilt hit you like a truck.

You and Jacob phased around the same time. His fear matched yours, but your anger was sharper.

You realized why you always reacted so violently to Edward; your wolf instincts were trying to shield her before you even knew what you were becoming.

You hid it all from Bella. The wolf thing. Your pack. The truth.

You kept your distance, knowing that you could never imprint on her, truly make her yours, it just didn’t work like that.

But your feelings didn’t disappear. They just burned hotter, heavier.

You’d do anything to protect her, even if she’d never see you the same way again.

Bella sees how distant you’ve become, it actually breaks her inside. She doesn’t understand why you look at her like you’ve caused pain.

Sometimes you’ll walk with her in silence on the beach, your arm brushing hers, but your lips sealed shut.

She wants to ask you what’s wrong. She almost does. But your eyes — those dark, gorgeous eyes — keep stopping her.

The sound of knuckles on your front door was so soft you almost missed it over the rain. 

You were sitting on the couch in an old t-shirt and cut-off shorts, still faintly shaking from the patrol run you’d ended twenty minutes ago. You didn’t expect company. You especially didn’t expect her.

When you opened the door, Bella was there — hood pulled over her head, rainwater clinging to her lashes like tears. 

“You cut your hair,” she said flatly. It wasn’t an accusation, but it wasn’t neutral either.

Your once long, straight black hair was gone. Shorn close at the sides, slightly longer on top. Practical. Efficient.

You shrugged. “Needed a change.”

“It’s not just your hair.” Her eyes narrowed, searching your face. “You don’t even look like you anymore.”

The words landed harder than she wanted them to. Your hands tightened around the edge of the doorframe. “What do you want, Bella?”

“You,” she said, voice barely above the rain. “Not… this strange version that keeps shutting me out.”

You didn’t answer, just stepped back so she could come in. She hesitated, then slipped past you into the small, warm living room. 

You could feel her presence like static against your skin — you noticed everything: her heartbeat, the damp warmth radiating off her, the way she smelled like wet cedar and something hers.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she said once you shut the door.

“I’ve been busy.”

“Busy hating Edward?” Her voice had an edge now, like she’d rehearsed this. “Or busy hating me for being with him?”

You flinched before you could stop yourself. You hated how sharp she was, how she could read the things you thought you’d buried.

“I don’t hate you,” you muttered.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

The silence that followed was thick, broken only by the patter of rain on the roof. She stepped closer, tilting her head as if searching for the version of you she used to know — the girl who’d taught her to skip stones, who used to walk her home barefoot along the beach.

“You’re different,” she whispered. “Your eyes… they’re darker, not just the color. You’re carrying something. Keeping something from me. 

You laughed once, without humor. “Maybe I am.”

Her brow furrowed. “Then tell me. Please. You look at me like I’m the enemy and I don’t know why.”

You met her gaze, and that was a mistake. Because for a second you forgot every reason you couldn’t tell her — the treaty, the danger, the way your wolf wanted to rip apart anything that smelled like vampire anywhere near her.

“I’m trying to protect you,” you said finally. “Even if it means staying away.”

Her lips parted like she was going to argue, but you cut her off with a small shake of your head. 

“You have no idea what you’ve walked back into, Bella. You think Edward’s the only thing out there? He’s not. And you—” You broke off, jaw tight. “You make it harder. Being around you… makes it harder to control.”

Something flickered in her eyes — confusion, but also something warmer. “Control what?”

You looked away. “Nothing you will ever need to worry about.”

She stepped even closer now, so close you could feel the heat of her through the damp chill of the air. Her voice was soft, but it shook.

“I don’t care how different you are now. You’re still you. And you can’t disappear from me again.”

For a heartbeat, you almost reached out — almost let your hand brush hers, almost let her see just how much you’d been holding back. 

But the image of Edward’s pale face, the scent of vampire that still clung to her clothes, burned in your mind like a warning.

You stepped back instead. “Go home, Bella.”

The look on her face was enough to make your chest ache — hurt, frustration, and something like longing all tangled together. But she pulled her hood back up, turned, and walked into the rain.

You stayed in the doorway long after she was gone, the scent of her still clinging to the doorway like it had no intention of leaving.

[doveofnestmount]

They should play siblings for my gooning project

[doveofnestmount]

just washed my viscose skirt on the weong program by accident, but it was 2 big so kinda hope it shrinked

[doveofnestmount]

my last school year that i can go international in the USA is trumps last year as president can he just die before that

[doveofnestmount]

she’s so bf here

[doveofnestmount]

regarding my Lynn Loud ff, i have more chapters (barely) on Wattpad. I post there faster, it takes a while before I repost here.

also I always ask for ideas on what to do with the following chapters, so feel free to drop a prompt!!

Sooner or later I’m gonna base a chapter around this picture

[doveofnestmount]

𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 | ​ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ ꜰᴇᴠᴇʀ

Masterlist

mentioned Lynn Loud x reader

oc x reader

Noelle also has last-minute school shopping. Lucky Y/N

That night Y/N didn't sleep. She laid awake, thinking only about the previous argument with Lynn. It replayed in her mind over and over again, even when she just wanted to forget it.

Y/N's stomach twisted at the thought of it. She exhaled sharply and rolled onto her side, clutching her pillow. Fine. If Lynn wanted to act like this, then let her. It wasn't like Y/N needed her approval.

__

"Y/N, GET DOWN HERE OR YOUR BREAKFAST IS RAT FOOD!" Trevor's voice echoed through the house, followed by a small squeak. Y/N groaned. It was going to be oe of those mornings. Her room was bathed in a soft light, the curtains not being shut the night before. 

She didn't bother to change out of her pajamas. The Mr. Potato Head shirt and Harry Potter pants fit the occasion just fine. "Y/N!" Now it was Fiadh's turn to shout. She had always had a shorter temper. 

And if she didn't hurry soon, Trevor would do good on his promise. As Y/N reached the bottom of the stairs she was greeted by the usually chaotic breakfast scene. Edward stood by the toaster, impatiently tapping his fingers on the counter. Trevor sat at the table, pretending to gag at the overcooked toast. Oisín sat as he usually did, unbothered while eating cereal. 

"Finally." Fiadh huffed at the sight of her unkempt daughter. "Go on, eat somethin' before ya drop where you're standin." She slid a banana and a jar of peanut butter towards her. " 

Y/N slumped into her seat and picked up the banana with all the enthusiasm of a soggy sponge. "Yay. Breakfast of champions." she muttered, peeling it with one hand and reaching for a piece of toast with the other.

"You look like a cartoon character that gave up," Trevor said, eyeing her outfit with a smirk. "Like, somewhere between Toy Story and Hogwarts dropout."

"Still better than whatever discount gremlin look you've got going on." Y/N shot back. Edward raised a brow without looking away from the toaster. "Can we not fight before 9 am.? Some of us are spiritually allergic to conflict before caffeine."

"Some of us are just spiritually allergic to mornings." Oisín mumbled into his cereal, not even glancing up.

"Don't start," Fiadh warned, moving around the kitchen in that brisk, mom-on-a-mission way. She paused long enough to hand Y/N a comb and gesture at her hair. "Sort out that head o' hair, would ya? Yer not leavin' this house lookin' like some feral wee thing that's been livin' in the woods!"

Y/N reluctantly dragged the comb through her tangled mess of bedhead. Her mind was still half stuck on Lynn. Every noise, every joke at the table felt like background fuzz compared to the bitterness still lingering in her chest.

But there wasn't much time to dwell.

"Right," Fiadh clapped her hands. "Right, everyone into the car now. We've forgotten the notebooks, the folders, and half the school lists by the looks of it. We'll head to the Sunday shop before it turns into a madhouse."

Trevor groaned. "Why do we always do this last minute?"

"Because some people wait 'til the night before school starts to say they need fifteen bloody glue sticks and a scientific calculator, don't they now?" Fiadh said pointedly. "Guilty." Y/N muttered.

"Move it," Fiadh said, grabbing her keys. "If we're lucky, we'll get there before the rest of the parents and the poor teens holdin' on to their last bit of freedom. Go on, get dressed."

Y/N trudged back up the stairs, comb still in hand, dragging her feet like each step owed her something. She didn't want to get dressed. She didn't want to buy notebooks or folders or pretend like she was excited for school. But she also didn't want to argue with her mum this early. 

In her room, she half-heartedly swapped her pajama pants for some jeans and threw on a basic white hoodie. No mirror check, no makeup. Just enough to be considered 'presentable' by her own standards. She paused for a moment by the window, arms crossed. Lynn's face flashed in her mind again. Tight-lipped, eyes narrowed. The way she'd called her a stalker, a weirdo, a creep was stuck in her mind. 

"Y/N!" Fiadh's voice snapped her out of the spiral. "The car's leavin' whether you're in it or not!"

"Comin'!" she called back, grabbing her phone and shoving it into her hoodie pocket. By the time she reached the car, they were already crammed in. Oisín sat in the back with a book opened like a shield, and Trevor had somehow acquired a packet of crisps despite it being barely past breakfast. 

Y/N climbed in beside Oisín and leaned her head against the window. "Yer quiet," Fiadh noted, glancing at her through the rearview mirror as she started the car. Y/N shrugged. "Just tired."

She didn't press, but she didn't need to. Her silence said enough. As they pulled out of the driveway, the car filled with the sounds of rustling snack wrappers, soft music, and the hum of morning traffic. The sun peeked out between clouds, casting the town in a half-hearted glow.

The Sunday shop was already buzzing when they arrived. Parents in a frenzy, kids dragging their feet, and that one poor staff member who looked like he was rethinking all his life choices. Trevor let out a long, dramatic sigh. "We're too late. The apocalypse is already here."

Fiadh shot him a look as she parked. "Keep the dramatics for theatre class, Trevor. Come on now, we'll be in and out if we don't dawdle."

"That's what you always say," Oisín muttered, leaving his book as he slid out of the car.

Inside, the shop was chaos. Shelves half-empty, kids running wild, and someone was already arguing at the till about a missing pack of highlighters. Y/N followed her family in, hood up, head kept low. 

Fiadh grabbed a basket and immediately began barking orders like a general. "Edward, go find rulers and calculators. Oisín, get your copybooks and no, you can't just reuse last year's. Trevor—Trevor—for the love of God, stop pretending the glue sticks are lip balm and grab a pack!"

Y/N drifted toward the aisle with the notebooks, pretending to read covers while her mind wandered again. Stalker. Weirdo. Creep. The words had sounded like venom when Lynn spat them at her. 

Her fingers brushed over a navy-blue notebook, but she didn't move to pick it up. It felt stupid now. Buying supplies for a school she didn't even want to start at. What was the point, really?

"Hey," a voice startled her. Trevor, leaning against the end of the aisle, now wielding a handful of glue sticks like a bouquet. "You okay?" She hesitated, then forced a tiny smile. "It was just a long night."

He nodded, not pushing. "You still want the Hogwarts planner? I saw one back there with your name all over it. Literally had a badger on it." She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched up. "Hufflepuff pride."

"There she is." He gave a small, teasing bow and disappeared again, probably off to cause some kind of shop-related disaster.

Y/N did pick up the navy notebook. She was halfway through running her fingers over the cover when she heard footsteps approach. A voice interrupted her thoughts, pulling her out of the haze of self-doubt and frustration.

"That one's actually a really good pick," the girl said, leaning casually against the shelf next to her. Y/N blinked and glanced at the speaker.

The girl was about her age-maybe a little older, with short, messy hair dyed vibrant shades of red, pink and purple. She wore a striped sweater, high-waisted jeans, and shoes that looked like they'd seen better days. She still somehow managed to look effortlessly cool. Her eyes, a soft amber, met Y/N's before she smiled.

Y/N, caught off guard, looked back down at the notebook in her hands, feeling a slight flush creep up her neck. "Yeah? It's... I don't know, I just liked the color."

The girl laughed softly, clearly not put off by Y/N's awkwardness. "I mean, it's a solid choice, even if it's a little basic.  You don't need to go all fancy with your school supplies unless you're really into making a statement." She shrugged casually. "I'm Noelle, by the way."

Y/N felt a little weird for not recognizing her name but decided not to make a big deal out of it. She forced a smile, extending her hand. "I'm Y/N. I'm new... to Royal Woods, I mean. So, uh... still trying to figure things out."

Noelle raised an eyebrow, looking Y/N over for a moment before grinning. "A fellow high school rookie, I assume. Don't worry, you'll survive. And if you need any tips on navigating this madhouse, I'm your girl." She gestured vaguely to the surrounding chaos in the store, where a few kids were running past, cartwheeling down the small aisles.

Y/N couldn't help but laugh. "I'm definitely going to need a few survival tips."

Noelle chuckled. "I'll be honest, I never quite understood the whole 'back to school' excitement. It's like the second the bell rings, everyone forgets how to function like normal humans." She paused for a beat, her expression turning more thoughtful. 

"But hey, it's nice to meet someone who's not already part of, like a whole Royal Woods clique. Not that it's bad or anything-just... tight-knit, y'know?"

"Yeah, I get that." Y/N nodded, feeling a bit of relief at the casual vibe Noelle had about her. "I don't really know anyone here yet. Besides..." She hesitated. "...the Louds."

Noelle's expression flickered with recognition. "The Louds, huh? I know a couple of them. But they're kind of... a lot, right?" She said it with a grin, clearly understanding what Y/N meant.

Y/N snorted, shaking her head. "You don't know the half of it."

Noelle grinned back, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "I'm sure they're not that bad. Still, you've got me for backup now." She pointed to herself with a mock serious face. "Not to brag, but I'm a pro at the whole social maze thing."

Y/N wasn't sure why, but something about Noelle's easy confidence made her feel less out of place. She gave a tentative smile. "Thanks... I might take you up on that."

Noelle's expression softened just slightly, like she was sizing Y/N up. "You know, if you need a break from the family circus I'm around." She reached into her bag and pulled out her phone, tapping it quickly before holding it out to Y/N. "Give me your number. It's a lot quieter on my part, trust me."

Y/N looked at Noelle's phone, a bit taken aback. She hadn't expected that, but a small spark of hope ignited in her chest. Maybe she wasn't going to be as alone here as she thought.

"Thanks, Noelle." Y/N said, smiling a little more genuinely this time, typing in her number.

"Anytime," Noelle said, giving her a thumbs up before turning to wander off towards another aisle. "And Y/N? The next time you're picking out a notebook, at least go for the one with the fancy designs. You deserve it."

Y/N stood there for a moment, staring after Noelle as she disappeared into the fray of the chaotic store. Her heart felt lighter than it had yesterday. It was a small interaction, but it was enough to make the world feel a little less heavy. She looked down at the notebook in her hands, the navy cover suddenly seeming less mundane and more like something she could make her own.

After a minute, she shook herself out of her thoughts and headed toward the back of the store to find her family. As she walked past the aisles of folders, binders, and pens, her mind drifted back to Noelle's words. 'You'll survive.'

Y/N didn't know if she believed that. But maybe, just maybe, she could try.

She found her mum at the checkout, talking to the cashier about a price error on one of the calculators. Oisín and Trevor were off somewhere in the electronics aisle, no doubt causing trouble.

Y/N threw the notebook and a pack of pens onto the counter, before joining her mum, who was still arguing about the price. Fiadh turned to her as she approached, eyes narrowing slightly at the notebook in Y/N's hands. "Is that what ya decided on?" she asked, her voice laced with suspicion.

Y/N hesitated, but the brief moment of connection with Noelle pushed her forward. "Yeah, it's fine." She glanced at the navy notebook and then back at Fiadh. "It's simple, but it'll do."

Fiadh seemed to weigh her words before nodding, turning back to the cashier, who finally gave up on the price discussion and scanned the items. The total was tallied up, and as Fiadh paid, Y/N caught sight of Noelle again in the corner of the store, laughing with some people she assumed was her friends.  Noelle caught Y/N's eye and smiled, offering a quick wave.

Y/N returned the wave, a smile tugging at her lips. It was nice, knowing there was at least one person in this new place who didn't want her to feel like a stranger. 

__

As Y/N and her family made their way to the car, bags of school supplies clinking in their hands, the buzz of the store still lingered in her mind. The interaction with Noelle had been brief, but it felt significant. Like she wasn't completely invisible here, after all.

She slid into the backseat next to Oisín, who was already absorbed back in his book. Trevor immediately started on his snack again, loudly munching on chips with an exaggerated crunch. Fiadh, up front, was reviewing the items they had just bought, making sure they hadn't forgotten anything.

Y/N leaned her head against the window, staring at the blurred world outside as they drove. The sun was higher in the sky now, and the chaos of the morning was starting to feel like a distant memory.

"You look like you're somewhere else." Oisín said suddenly, not looking up from his book. Y/N blinked, pulling herself out of her thoughts. "Huh?"

He didn't seem to care much that she hadn't caught on right away. "You've got that spaced-out look. I know you too well." She rolled her eyes but couldn't help the faint smile that tugged at her lips. "I'm just tired." 

"You keep saying."

Trevor chimed in from the side. "She's got that lovesick glow, if you ask me." Y/N's face instantly flushed, and she snapped, "I do not!"

"No? Then why are you acting like you've just met someone who isn't a complete weirdo like yourself?" Trevor teased.

"Shut up, Trevor."

"Who's this non-weirdo?" Fiadh asked, glancing at Y/N through the rearview mirror. "Nobody, Mum." Y/N muttered quickly, feeling a flare of embarrassment. Oisín, however, couldn't resist the temptation. "She met someone in the store, actually. Some girl named Noelle." Fiadh raised an eyebrow. "Oh? A new friend?"

Y/N sighed, scrunching the bridge of her nose. "She's just... someone I met. She was friendly, that's all. We're going to the same school."

"Friendly, huh?" Trevor said, a smirk creeping onto his face. "Not interested in sharing your new friend's life story?" Y/N was saved from responding when Fiadh swerved the car slightly to avoid a pothole. "Alright, alright. Enough teasing. You'll spill it all when you're ready."

Trevor leaned back, popping another chip into his mouth. "I'm just sayin', if she's a decent human being, maybe you should actually talk to her again. Seems like she's the only one not acting like a psycho."

"Wow, big talk for someone who would've been ghosted by the whole Loud family if Lana didn't have a soft spot for broken electronics and lost causes."

Trevor scoffed. "Lana only kept talking to me because I fixed her RC car that one time. She's in it for the gears, not the personality."

"You don't have a personality," Oisín said without looking up from his book.

"Oi!" Trevor threw a crumpled crisp packet in his direction, which bounced harmlessly off Oisín's shoulder. "You lot are just jealous I've got charisma and snacks."

"More like empty calories and ego." Y/N muttered, cracking a smirk despite herself.

Fiadh, still laser-focused on the road, let out a breathy, amused huff. "If I hear one more bleedin' word 'bout charisma, I swear to God, I'll pull this car over an' make the lot of ye walk home with the bags strapped to yer backs like pack mules."

They fell into a moment of companionable silence, broken only by the distant buzz of the radio and the soft whir-whir of tires rolling along the pavement. Y/N leaned her head back again, letting her eyes drift shut for a few seconds, the weight of the morning finally catching up.

But her peace was interrupted when her phone buzzed. She slid it out of her hoodie pocket, thumb hovering over the screen.

'hey, it's Noelle :)

 hope your family survived the sunday shop war

 lmk if you ever need a distraction or just someone who doesn't speak in toaster-related insults'

Y/N blinked at the screen, unsure whether to laugh or groan. Noelle had somehow picked up on the family chaos in under five minutes.

Still, her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment before she started typing back.

'lol they're alive. barely. and thanks. i might actually take you up on that soon. today's been... weird'

She hit send before she could second-guess it. Her phone buzzed again almost immediately.

'weird days are my specialty.

 also i make a mean coffee if ur into that

 well. mean instant coffee. but still, points for effort'

Y/N smiled, tucking the phone into her lap and glancing out the window again. The streets of Royal Woods passed by in slow waves. Neighborhoods and parks and unfamiliar stores that were slowly starting to feel less foreign.

"Who're you grinning at over there?" Trevor asked, leaning over just enough to be nosy. "Your reflection," Y/N muttered. "It's just so tragically punchable."

Fiadh barked out a short laugh, while Oisín mumbled, "Burned."

Y/N didn't add anything else, just glanced at her phone again. Maybe she would reach out to Noelle herself. Maybe not today, or even tomorrow. But sometime soon.

Because even if school still felt like a storm waiting to hit, it was nice knowing someone might be waiting on the other side of it. With a terrible cup of coffee.

[laurenluvss]

Just wanted to say that I saw the vision back when you guys were saying "he's all yours"

[petersteelekisser]

hear me out

[dovediva]

[weeping-statues]

IF I SEE ONE MORE OC x CHARACTER IN THE “x reader” SECTION IMA TWEAK.

I AM NOT YOUR OC💔💔💔