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slxsherr · 1 year

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So Melodramatic But It Turns Me On

pairing: ethan landry x bimbo!fem!reader

summary: you make sure ethan won't die a virgin.

wc: 1294

warnings: fem!reader, cursing/swearing, unprotected sex (p in v), loss of virginity, briefly mentioned cum eating, oral sex (f!receiving)

“Does that mean I’ll die a virgin?” Ethan asks, stunning the group with his overshare.

The group moves on quickly after that, Mindy continues her lecture but you can’t stop thinking about what Ethan said. You don’t understand how Ethan can still be a virgin, he’s cute, a bit awkward but in a funny way, and smart, girls should be throwing themselves at him. Ethan thinks the same, but that’s something he’d only ever admit to the thousands of other men with the same opinion on the forums he visits online.

You know if you talk about it to your friends they’ll tell you it’s a bad idea. Even before the Ghostface attacks, Mindy didn’t think it’d be a good idea for you to go after Ethan, but now that he’s at the top of her suspect list, you doubt she’s changed her mind. After Anika and Quinn’s murder, you expect they’ll suspect you too since you weren’t with them, and for a moment they do, but quickly change their minds when they remember you genuinely believed all cats were girls and all dogs were boys.

It’s not fair that they ruled you out for being dumb, despite not having an alibi, but still suspect Ethan even though he was at econ. It’s your sympathetic nature that invites him to your apartment for the night, even though Mindy told you not to be alone with him. But your roommate will come home from work before midnight, so you don’t worry about it too much.

“Are you really a virgin, E?” You ask, watching him look over your worksheet, having insisted on helping you with your math assignments.

“Yeah,” he answers nervously, ears turning red and face flushing from embarrassment.

“But you’re so cute!” You say, moving closer to him on your bed, your papers falling off from the movement.

“You think I’m cute?” He asks, staring at you wide-eyed.

“Totally,” you answer, reaching out to play with a curl just behind his ear, arm resting on his shoulder. “You know, I can be your first, if you want.”

“Really?” Ethan asks, already getting hard from your offer.

“Mhm,” you answer with a hum, throwing the assignments in his lap to the side.

You straddle his thighs, sitting in his lap and leaning forward to kiss him. His lips are chapped, but you don’t mind. He whines when you nip at his bottom lip, moaning when he feels your tongue slip into his mouth. Your arms rest on his shoulders, hands gently holding his face as the kiss deepens.

His hands squeeze your hips, attempting to slow your movements as you grind in his lap. You can feel him getting hard beneath you, his own hips moving up to meet yours in search of more friction. When you pull away, he whines, but is quickly silenced when you pull off your tight crop top. He stares at your bare chest in awe, letting you pull off his shirt as his mind catches up to what’s happening.

“Can I touch you?” He asks before you can take off his jeans, his thumbs nervously rubbing over the fat of your hips.

“Sure,” you answer, your wide eyes showing you weren’t expecting the request.

Ethan’s hands travel from your hips up your sides, his warm touch leaving goosebumps in his path. Gently, he cups your breasts, fondling the soft mounds and eliciting quiet sounds from you. His thumbs ghost over your nipples, and they pebble from his barely there touch. The whole time, your hips haven’t stopped moving, now moving faster in his lap. Spurred on by your sounds and growing neediness, one of his hands dipping past the waistband of your short shorts and underwear.

“Is this okay?” Ethan asks, fingers moving through your slick folds.

“Yes,” you moan breathlessly, hips stuttering when he brushes over your clit.

It’s maddening, the way he touches you, amateur but just skilled enough to rile you up. His hand and your panties are soaked, your hole achingly empty, you decide he can skip the rest of the foreplay. It’s supposed to be about him, anyway, you tell yourself, pulling away from him to take your shorts off, and he quickly copies your actions. His dick is pretty, trimmed curls neatly trailing from his lower stomach to the base, thick, long, and you hope you get the chance to taste him, maybe in the morning.

“Fuck,” he groans, feeling your tight walls envelop him as you lower yourself on his cock.

“E, look at me, baby,” you say, a hand in his hair and the other holding his face, encouraging him to open his eyes.

He whimpers when you start moving, shallowly bouncing in his lap, glossy eyes watching you take him. Your stomach twists in pleasure, his tip kissing that spongey spot deep inside you every time your ass meets his thighs, clenching around him when you hear him whine after your grip on his curls tightens. Ethan feels like he’s going to melt into the bed, watching a creamy ring form at the base of his dick as you ride him. You look so hot, tits bouncing as you move, and you feel so good, he’s embarrassed when he tells you he’s going to cum.

“Shh, it’s okay, go ahead and cum,” you reassure him, not stopping your movements as he begins to babble incoherently to announce his release.

His arms wrap around your waist, holding you to his chest as he finishes inside you. The air is warm, only the sounds of your heavy breathing can be heard as he recovers from his orgasm. As his mind clears up, Ethan begins to panic, realizing you didn’t get to cum.

“I’m so sorry, you didn’t–” he begins to say, but you interrupt him.

“It’s okay, this was about you,” you tell him, but he won’t have it.

“Just please, let me?” He asks, moving you to lay you on your back, moving down the bed in between your thighs.

“Okay,” you say, letting him spread your legs to slot himself between them.

He licks a broad stripe through your folds, and if he wasn’t eating you so messily you’d maybe be a little grossed out by him essentially eating his cum out of you. Despite his lack of experience, he’s enthusiastic, and your hand quickly flies to grip his mop of brown curls as you begin to buck your hips against his face. You’d feel bad for how tightly you hold his hair, but the noises he lets out against your pussy tells you he actually enjoys it.

“Ethan!” You squeal his name, feeling his tongue explore your hole, and your thighs nearly closing around his head.

Your legs are shaking on either side of his head, and he thinks you’re getting close. He holds your hips down, keeping you from grinding against his face, allowing him to roughly circle your clit with his thumb. Your hips jerk against his hold, seeking pleasure as the knot in your stomach begins to unwind. So lost in your building orgasm, you don’t realize you’re practically suffocating Ethan between your thighs, not that he minds. He would gladly accept death if it meant he’d die with your thighs wrapped around his head, listening to your muffled cries of pleasure.

“Oh my god! Are you okay?” You ask once you come down from your high, moving away from him to out from between your legs.

“I’m fine! Would it be okay if we did that again?” He asks, and with a quick look at his lap you realize he’d gotten hard again while eating you out.

“Of course,” you answer, a smile stretching across your lips as you push him onto his back.

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x reader smut #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x you smut #ethan landry x y/n smut #ethan landry smut #ethan landry fanfiction #ethan landry fanfic #ethan landry fic #ethan landry imagine #ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #scream x reader #scream smut #ethan landry #scream vi #scream 6

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henneseyhoe · 3 months

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Princess.

Trevante Rhodes x BLACK!FEM!reader

WARNINGS: SUB!reader, DOM!trevante, thigh riding, size kink, breeding kink, rough s*x, reader and Tre are married but it isn’t implied, daddy kink, no protection(wrap it before ya smack it), just really nasty chile…

SUMMARY: how Trevante acts with his pretty princess <3 (I was in heat writing this, sorry in advance)

Ps. Inspo from @notapradagurl7 recent fic <3

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He’s so exhausted when he comes home from his big boy job but seeing her gives him so much energy. He just wants to pull her into his lap and hold her, letting her ramble about her day and tell him all about the new things she learned and all the things she bought when she went out shopping.

“Tell daddy what you got” He’d say as she bounced excitedly on his thighs, innocent and unknowingly waking up a demon that was kept under wraps since early that morning. He just didn’t wanna wake his baby so early. She’d go on and on about all the cute clothes she found and the purses she bought online, the good food she ate and the nap she took before he arrived. He’d listen and pretend his dick wasn’t growing hard under her ass.

How he’d run baths for her when he was home, adding her favorite scent and bubbles to the water as she’d put her hair in a ponytail to avoid wetting it. She’d ask nicely to be carried to the tub because her legs were just too sore after being fucked until she blacked out and forgot her name. Her knees also aching from being on them for so long, taking his dick deep down her throat until she choked and a strong gag forced him to pull out before he was painting her face with his cum. She already felt so full of him even with his essence leaking out of her and dripping down her thigh, there was no way she would make it to the bathroom.

When she’d do something that was on the “no-no” list and he’d make her pick her own punishments. He’d ask if she deserved an easy one and she’d nod with teary eyes, already having a stinging bottom from the spankings he gave her earlier for touching herself while he was at work. He’d shake his head with a ‘tsk’ and simply throw her over his shoulder, carrying her to their playroom.

And that time she had made him play with her, forcing a game of hide and seek before he’d give up in frustration from not finding her for over ten minutes. She’d giggle and reveal she was hiding in the coat closet the whole time and as obvious as it was, he still hadn’t found her.

He wasn’t always a nice daddy. He had his limits when she just wouldn’t listen. Those were the times where he either made her cum back to back with no break until their sheets were soaking wet or he’d refuse to let her cum at all, watching her cry and beg as he’d take the vibrator away from her swollen and overstimulated clit any time she made that face.

He loved when she was desperate for him. She was just too cute. There were times where he’d go on business trips for days and come back to her needy than ever. She’d do anything for him just to have a simple touch.

When he suspected her to have touched herself in that time of need and he’d refuse to give her what she wanted, but he’d let her ride his thigh like the needy crybaby she was. Her panties were so damn wet that when she rose up off of him she left a wet spot on his slacks, proof of how much she had came just from that little bit of release.

“You miss daddy? I know you did, princess” He smiles, those pearly whites shining at her. She melts from the sight.

He loved her reaction when he’d fill her up unexpectedly. He slams into her with that last rough stroke and she’d let a small gasp fall from those plump lips that were once glossed before Trevante had basically kissed it all off. She could feel the liquid threatening to drip from her entrance and she could only hope that was what would get her pregnant with his baby.

She couldn’t help but think of carrying his seed and getting turned on. Sometimes she’d purposely make him cum inside of her so he’d go to work with empty balls and she’d get to run errands filled to the brim with him. Sometimes she’d even stop by a few maternity stores while she was at it too, just out of curiosity(not) before scurrying off to do something else.

He was so sweet. He’d buy her gifts she had been wanting for a long time, no matter how useless or weird it was to him or anybody else, he knew she wanted it and anything princess wanted, princess got. She even had her own room, decorated how she liked with her favorite colors and favorite things.

He was only ever rough with her when she wanted him to be, which was most of the time, but there were times where she wanted to be soft too, and he supplied that also. Some small gestures like fixing the bow in her hair or helping her reach something on the top shelf….or slowly fucking into her as he cradled her head in his large hands, looking into her soft eyes while she pouted, her tummy feeling butterflies every time he’d hit her special spot. He was so tired and fucked out, but he couldn’t stop until he and his princess was drained completely.

The way he ate her out alone was soft. He licked and slurped on her pretty little pearl, complementing her on how good she tasted and how daddy could eat her for hours. She would try not to close her legs and push him away.

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🏷️ @thatone-girly @notapradagurl7 @swavydadon @miyahmaraj @planetblaque @msinterludee @milkiboo @bloodripleygal @stevelacyballs @naj-ay444 @blackelysian @shaolyninferno

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writeyouin · 3 months

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Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Learning To Get Along

A/N – So, a user on A03 suggested the snake servants’ new names. It was a stroke of genius on their behalf, and I can only thank them for it.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

MALE VERSION HERE

GN VERSION HERE

Tag-List: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @sseleniaa @randomgurl2326 @22carolina08 @astrxwitch @yu-87 @clover-1767 @lil-bexie @thesimpybitch

Do you think you can manage that? Lucifer’s words hung in the air, creating an icy barrier between you.

So, Lucifer thought himself too good for low-life Sinners such as yourself. That wasn’t fair. Sinners might be in Hell for a reason, but sometimes such reasons were just fucking stupid. Heaven ought to base their entry requirements on a person’s character or strength of heart, not just their actions. You had met plenty of Sinners who were in Hell because of the most trivial shit.

There were those who liked to sleep around, but if sex positivity was a problem, then how did Heaven explain Angels like Adam, whom Charlie had told you about in excruciating detail. Lust shouldn’t have ever been considered a Sin, as long as all participants in any such carnal act were above age and consenting.

Then, there were a few murderers you knew. Granted, murder made the lines blurry, but some Sinners killed in self-defence, or only targeted others such as themselves, protecting the innocent in a very gruesome Dexter-like fashion. Were they really to be condemned? And who the fuck gave a damn about Sloth. So, some people were just bone idle, who gave a shit? Heaven apparently.

And now, the ruler of Hell was condemning those around him as well. He was supposed to care for his people, good or bad. Not to mention those who were solely created for or born in Hell, such as Imps, Hell-Hounds, or the Deadly Sins themselves; they hadn’t committed any crimes to get sent here originally – it was their home.

Your eyebrows furrowed, creating an annoyed crease along your forehead.

“No,” You told Lucifer, who stared at you incredulously.

No? Didn’t you understand the situation? He was Lucifer. King of Hell. He could destroy you with no effort spared, leaving no trace that you ever existed, and you were telling him no? He wasn’t an unreasonable guy, but how could you possibly think that being around him was a good idea? Did you respect Charlie more than you feared him? Granted, he didn’t go out much so few knew how powerful he was, but no other Sinner would dare deny him his wishes.

You saw the look he was giving you and decided to explain yourself.

“Look, I’m only here ‘cos Charlie thought it was a good idea, and if you genuinely hate me, I’ll go and you’ll never have to see me again, but you’re not even trying right now. You haven’t spoken to me. You don’t know anything about me, and frankly, I think Charlie’s right, you do need someone to talk to.”

“I don’t-” Lucifer started.

“You don’t even know why I’m down here,” You interrupted angrily, though you refrained from raising your voice. “And you don’t want to know, right? ‘Cos all of us filthy Sinners must be the same. Ooh, we squandered your gift of Free Will and now we deserve to suffer for eternity, do we? Grow up!”

Lucifer stared at you in astonishment, and you sighed, apparently not finished in your tirade, “I’m going to my room tonight, but tomorrow, I expect that you’ll at least try to tolerate me. Who knows? We might even find some common ground. We both love Charlie, don’t we?”

Lucifer didn’t know what to say to that. He certainly loved his daughter, more than anything else in the universe, but you? He still suspected that you had some kind of ulterior motive… everyone in Hell did. Yet, you had a point. He would do this for her, even if it meant he had to tolerate you.

Who were you, really?

He looked at you closely for the first time, trying to pick out some detail of who you might have been. It was even more disturbing than he previously thought. Before, he only saw a human. Now, he examined your clothes. There was little to say about the style, but your apparel was reminiscent of a Holy Animal. With the ruffled cuffs of your jacket, the way the back peaked to create the image of feathers, and the yellow ribbon that lined the white material, you looked like a dove.

Yet… Despite living in the Hazbin Hotel, Charlie had insisted that you didn’t seek redemption. Why go through the farce of dressing like an Angel then… unless? No, you couldn’t be. No Angel would dare stray from Heaven unless they were ordered to.

Lucifer held back a glower, trying to keep his emotions in check so you wouldn’t sense his thoughts. There was a possibility, though small that you had been sent by the likes of Adam to spy on Lucifer and his kin, ensuring that none of Charlie’s patrons ever found a way to the Pearly Gates.

Well, it wouldn’t take long to uncover your ruse. Lucifer had ways of telling an Angel from a Demon, and once you were asleep, he would know.

“Yeah,” Lucifer said evenly. “I love my Charlie.”

“So, you’ll try then.”

Lucifer nodded his head in consent.

“Okay, I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

The sentiment went unreturned as your King returned to his chambers, biding his time until you slept.

When you returned to your room, you got ready for bed. The day had been long and unusual. Honestly, you didn’t feel that you had a place in the manor, and you longed for your room in the Hotel, even if it was smaller, had a large stain on the carpet (which Nifty had named Vivienne) and an unruly infestation of roaches.

In the short time you had spent there, it had become home.

You would miss the arguing inhabitants, the energetic wake-up call from Charlie, the feeling of safety that Vaggie instilled, and the sound of Alastor’s morning and evening radio broadcasts. Yet, you hoped you might find something equally valuable in return if only Lucifer would open himself up to the possibility that you didn’t want anything from him.

After glancing out of your window, which had a balcony you could step out to if you so wished, you took in the whole of the Magne District which was the heart of Pentagram City. If you strained your eyes, you could just see the flashing neon of the Hazbin Hotel, and if you turned your gaze up… There was Heaven, out of reach yet always in sight, taunting most Sinners, yet emboldening a brave few who dared to wonder What If? What if they could change and gain admittance to a better life?

You sighed and dared not ponder further when you needed to get some sleep.

Throwing yourself on the plush bed, you got comfortable, arranging yourself how you liked, then leaning over to your bedside table, you blew out the cherry candle you had previously lit.

You rested your head atop the satin pillows, then frowned, feeling a lump beneath it. You reached under and pulled out a rubber duck, painted to look like a Hellhound-Duck hybrid. Assuming it was one of Charlie’s childhood toys, you placed it carefully atop the table; it would keep you company on your first night in a strange new place.

Lucifer waited till the late twilight hours before leaving his workshop. He transformed himself into a snake, slithering silently through the Hallways, ensuring that you wouldn’t hear him coming.

Before being cast out of Heaven, detecting an Angel would have been a simple task. He would just know, the way he now knew how to read a Demon. Yet, with you giving off little sign of Demonic energy, he now had to test if you were of Angelic origin. There were two ways he could do so. The first was by spilling your blood. Those who were born in or sent to Heaven had golden ichor instead of the oozing red or black goop of Hell-spawn and Sinners.

However, not wishing to alert you to his presence, Lucifer decided to opt for the other method.

Once he was inside your room and certain that you were in a deep slumber, he reverted to his original form, standing over you, his pupils turning to slits at the thought of a traitor in his house. If you were what he thought you to be, he would kill you immediately.

He pulled a small yellow twenty-sided stone from his pocket and baring his fangs in anger, he pressed it lightly against your skin.

Nothing happened.

Lucifer’s expression changed from one of deep-seated loathing to confusion. You weren’t from Heaven. If you were, the stone would have glowed a brilliant shade of Gold. Instead, it remained its original dull yellow.

Very well.

He would keep his word and… Tolerate you.

He left your room as quietly as he had entered it. Tomorrow, things would be different.

Lucifer didn’t sleep that night; the idea of change was terrifying.

The next morning, when Lucifer finally resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to face you eventually, he headed downstairs, assuming that was where you were.

“JUST TRY IT!” He heard you yell. “TRY! OPEN YOUR MOUTH, DAMN IT!”

“Uh…” Was all he could think to say as he entered the kitchen and found you clinging to one of the snake cleaners he had created the previous night, in a rodeo-like fashion. The creature was trying to buck you off, with a somewhat derpy expression, probably stupidly assuming it was a game; Lucifer hadn’t bothered to instil them with much intelligence since he didn’t need them for anything more than cleaning.

“ARGH!” You grunted as you were dislodged from its back.

“What- What is this?” Lucifer asked, confused.

“Oh shit!” You cursed, embarrassed to have been caught in a less-than-dignified position. You attempted to regain a little composure by standing up, then held up a handful of wadded-up pancake.

“Do they eat?” You demanded, referring to the reptilian cleaners, “’Cos they’ve been in a picture frame their whole lives, and they must be hungry by now.”

Of all the stupid things you could have done, Lucifer couldn’t help but crack a smile, though he had the decency to hide his laugh behind a clenched fist and pass it off as a cough.

“They don’t need to.”

“Okay, but can they?”

“If they wanted to, I suppose so.”

You glared at the mushed-up pancake, “I fucking knew it. Spick, Span, eat your fucking breakfast!”

“I’m sorry, who now?” Lucifer asked.

“Well, they clean, don’t they? Spick and Span seem to fit unless you have something better to name them.”

Lucifer chuckled, a half-short-lived chuckle, but one all the same. You were more chaotic than he expected.

“Fine, if you want them to eat, you’ve got to cook in style.”

He waved his hands energetically, his outfit transforming from his usual suit to one befitting a flashy Michelin Chef. He was comfortable in the role of an entertainer as he made a dazzling display of cooking up eggs. With the flash-bang of indoor fireworks, the island counter gained a conveyor belt to transport several dishes, all perfectly presentable and giving off a delectable aroma of herbs and spices.

Eggs-benedict, frittatas, and shakshuka shot by you, closely followed by a hungry Span, though his twin was busy writhing on the conveyer belt, trying to get to his feather duster, yet doomed to chase it since he didn’t think to travel in the opposite direction so it would meet him in the middle.

The sight was memorable to say the least, even when Spick knocked the food onto the floor and his brother was left stupidly sucking on the corner of the countertop where his seemingly new favourite dish had splattered.

You couldn’t help laughing.

“See?” You struggled to get the words out, “I knew they’d like food. I’m just a shite cook.”

Lucifer gazed at his dishes proudly, even though they were no longer fit for either of your consumption.

“Hah,” You said, feeling somewhat awkward now that the moment had passed and Lucifer’s gaze was upon you, trying to figure you out. “I’ll uh, clean this up.”

“No need, leave it to Flim and Flam,” Lucifer said nonchalantly.

“You know that’s not their names.”

“Whatever. So… we’ve met, there was breakfast with a show. We done for today?”

The smile fell from your face as you realised that all of this was just another of Lucifer’s acts. Granted, he might have actually had fun with it, but it was all just in the name of claiming he had tried to be around you, and just wanted to leave as soon as possible.

“I don’t know. I was going to go into the City if you wanted to come.”

“I can’t. I have… plans.”

Lucifer’s mood soured as he thought about visiting Heaven’s embassy to set up the meeting for Charlie. He hated everything about that building. The décor was just a cruel reminder of everything Heaven had banished him from. Moreover, while the Angels had to respect his power, they didn’t respect him; their cruel words and thinly veiled insults always cut him the deepest. Not to mention how bitter he was that the balance of power was uneven. Sure, Heaven had an embassy in Hell, but there was no such building in Heaven where Demons could work to arrange meetings between Angels and him.

It would always be Lucifer going to their building, on their terms, usually at their behest.

“Plans? So, you’re setting up Charlie’s meeting today?” You guessed astutely. “You know, I’m walking that way too.”

Lucifer guessed at your game. You probably hadn’t been going in that direction at all, but this was all in the name of ‘trying’. One way or another, he would have to learn to get along with you.

“Fine. Let’s go,” He said, flicking his hand back blasély, even though he found the idea of walking the streets of Hell daunting.

It would be better if he could teleport there, but at least, by the end of the day, you would have something positive to report back to Charlie.

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lightwing-s · 4 months

Text

𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐑

pairing: dick grayson x fem! reader

summary: as an intern at the police department you should know how to separate work from personal life, but when officer dreamy comes after you, you can't help it but mix them together

rating: 18+ (MDNI)

word count: 6,2k warnings: unprotected sex, cum eating, handjob (f receiving), slight overstimulation, a lot of pinning for each other

a/n: i gave up proof reading halfway because i was sleepy, so it might be okay at first and then become messy. sorta base on my experience working at a police precinct earlier this year, but not faithful (at all) to reality.

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

Jumping off the last step down the bus, you rush into the streets, swerving through the crowds, bumping against people, getting sworn at by some, and somehow managing your way through the busy mess that was Gotham’s early mornings.

The headphones glued to your ear were the only thing trying to distract you from all the chaos that was the start of your day, but as the shuffle merged bossa nova into 2000s punk rock, you felt your body react and jump into a faster pace on your way to work. Within each step, the Greek columns of the old imposing building of the Gotham City’s Police Department grew bigger in the horizon, letting you know your commute was close to its end.

Beep beep, your watch announced the start of your shift. Damn it, you were late again. Trying to speed up your steps, you felt your calves start to burn, but the building soon was right in front of you, a couple of steps separating you both.

“Good morning, Yn.” greeted one of the officers, as you passed by him in a rush, as you made your way up the large steps without somehow managing to trip as he was bound somewhere else, already deep into the rash routine of being a police officer at the country’s most dangerous city.

Bursting through the doors, you look around to see if your supervisor, officer McCaffrey, was anywhere near. He hated you and had been on your ass since you started arriving a bit later than you were supposed to, a move further away from the precinct ruining your commute times.

Not seeing his growing bald head anywhere around, you jump ahead and find your way to your desk, stacked with piles and piles of papers, old cases handed to you to be typed and launched into this new software funded by Mr. Bruce Wayne.

Interning at a police station wasn’t exactly a part of your meticulously drawn up plan to get into law school, as law enforcement was on the far bottom of your list of possible careers to choose for your future. However, from day one you were surprised by how much you enjoyed working at the department, by how much you enjoyed the people, both your co-workers and, weirdly, the criminals you got to meet on a daily basis.

Sometimes it was too much, juggling school work and the internship, plus all the side hustles you had to take just to make it through college without starving to death. But it all had its good sides. Sometimes, some really good ones.

Placing your bag over the pile of cases, you were about to go around your desk and sit down on the rather uncomfortable chair to start typing those damned cases away, when the rough voice of the main antagonist of this current season of your life reached your ears.

“Miss, Ys,” your supervisor called. Rolling your eyes, you forced yourself to remain still, a lot of effort put into not throwing your head back in defeat as you turned around to meet face of your tormentor for the first time that day. “Thought you started your program at…” he dragged himself out, looking at his clock. “Exactly fifteen minutes ago.”

“Hello, officer McCaffrey.” you forced out a smile while greeting him. “Well, I was here fifteen minutes ago, you must have missed me.”

You confidently tried to lie, hoping the time spent with suspected criminals had taught you something, but being sure your face must have told him the opposite of what you meant. “I’m pretty sure I looked all over for you.”

“Are you sure?” you feigned innocence when trying once more.

“Miss Yn, this is a serious institution and if you’re not going to cooperate by doing your job properly I’m sorry to inform you that…”

“You won’t need it, Christian.” a deeper voice cut your supervisor off as he started to scold you again. The voice, a tone you could easily identify from how much you’d heard it and dreamed of it in the past few months. “I stopped Miss Yn outside for a talk. I did not think there would be any problem.”

Sounding much more confident in his lie than you did, you were sure you could’ve fallen for it if it wasn’t of you he was talking about.

“Officer Grayson, Miss Ys has got a job to finish, she doesn’t need to go around having conversations with what I imagine are busy policemen.” officer Tormentor replied, not even caring to turn around and face the other voice’s owner, disdain covering each and everyone of his words.

“We were just discussing a case, it’s not that big of a deal. Right, Yn?” Officer Grayson called you by your first name along with a wink, the remaining energy left from not rolling your eyes at officer McCaffrey earlier keeping you from melting at how sweet your name sounded coming out of his mouth.

McCaffrey finally turned to face your white night in a white button-up, only his back in your line of view now as you were still paralyzed in your spot, the image of Officer Grayson trapping your attention from anything else in the precinct.

“Dick,” your supervisor continued, the name sounding off of him like an annoyance. ”You’re not supposed to share confidential information with the students.” He told him bitterly.

“Aren’t they here to learn about our job, Christian?” Officer Grayson replied, the same annoyance playing on his tongue, but at the same time full of an uplifting fun only Dick Grayson could master and that you were sure only annoyed Christian more.

Facing the sudden silence between you three, you noticed Officer Grayson’s eyebrow raising, challenging his fellow officer to complain about you one more time.

“Sure, but…”

“I was doing just that, making sure Yn’s internship actually brings some value to her future.” Grayson cut him once more. “No sensitive information was shared, just the look of an investigation through a detective’s eye. And even so, miss Yn is one of the most competent interns we’ve had in a while and I’m sure she would’ve been able to keep any information she might’ve gotten. I’m sure talking with actual officers is much more beneficial than typing old cases into a system.”

Silence overcame you three again, Grayson’s words having a certain impact on you. Your shoes, stained and in desperate need of a wash, suddenly became interesting as you lowered your face to hide the burning red on your cheeks. The insides of your lips were chewed on, stopping the smile from spreading on your face.

Finally looking up, your eyes briefly met Officer Grayson’s, but you moved away quickly, afraid of what they might’ve done to you.

Officer McCaffrey opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, his mind certainly trying to muster a comeback to Grayson’s defense of you but clearly failing to do so. His eyes moved from you to his coworker, and you wondered what was going through his head.

Whatever it was, it would never live up to Officer Dick Grayson. He just never would.

“Very well,” McCaffrey finally spoke, turning to face you with a displeased expression. “Get on with your typing.”

Turning on his heel, McCaffrey walked away from the two of you, the hardness of his hips making his walk look funny and with the bald spot growing in his head the both of you let out a soft chuckle.

Resting your butt on the desk behind you, the need of formality gone with your supervisor, you took this time to eye up the man left with you.

That man didn’t have a bad looking day, showing up like a greek god every single day at work. He wore his usual white button-up shirt, rolled up to his elbows and exposing his thick forearms, built effortlessly at the gym - you were sure -, and decorated with veins you secretly wanted to map with your fingertips.

He wore gray pants today, a color he often varied with either dark blue, black or beige, but the latter, thankfully, becoming rarer with each passing day. It didn’t compliment him, making his look rather boring in your opinion, nor did it match well with any of his shoes, probably more expensive than anything you owned.

His badge and gun hang on his hips, held on the black belt made of the most sophisticated leather in the world, or so you’d bet. He seemed to take good care of himself, as not only his skin glistened like a glazed donut, but he exuded a strong woody smell, following him along to every room he entered.

However, the lack of a tie and the untidy hair signaled to you he might’ve been just as late as you were. And still, he looked majestic. The highlight of your long hours at the precinct.

“Hello, officer Grayson.” you greeted him shyly. You certainly should not have spent too much of your days simply just watching him go on about his work, but it was a habit you had created and that was hard not to do, his simple presence was enough to overwhelm you.

“Good morning, Yn. Haven’t had an easy morning, I see?” he raised his eyebrow at you this time, a playful smiling playing on his face.

“You too, right?” slipped out of your mouth quicker than you’d wished, almost slapping your face out of sheer frustration.

His head bent to the side, a question forming on his eyes, eyebrows furrowed, but soon returning to the playful expression you were used to. “I see your detective skills have been improving.”

“I-I just noticed you’re not wearing a t-tie like you usually do and your hair seems messy, that’s all.” you said without pausing for air and his smile only seemed to grow.

“Relax, Yn,” he dragged out. “I just had to stay up till late last night. What’s your excuse?”

“Commuting has been hell. I just moved to a new apartment.” you told him, nodding for absolutely no reason. He didn’t seem pleased with your answer, eagerly waiting for you to continue. “At the Amusement Mile.”

“Amusement Mile?!” he exclaimed. “That’s basically on the other side of the city.”

Yep, you worded, or not. You were not sure.

“And really dangerous, Yn.” he sounded worried. “Make sure to not leave too late, okay?”

“I’ll try.” you replied, but he still didn’t seem pleased. “I promise?”

You were not sure what kind of tone this conversation had. You and Officer Grayson had always been friendly, as he always came by your desk to wish you a good day or night, to bring you coffee as he did with his coworkers, or to ask you about how classes were going and if the internship wasn’t getting in the way of your studies.

It all sounded friendly to you, as if he only saw you as a younger sister or something like that. Sadly to you, that seemed to be a reality. But today, the friendliness sounded less friendly, for some reason, or maybe they were just the voices of hope playing with your mind.

“Good, I’ll have to work now, and I think so do you. Having fun with typing?”

“It really could be worse.” You joked, bringing out a laugh from him, filling your ears and making your heart pump faster.

“Have a nice day, Yn.”

“You too, officer.” you eagerly replied, watching as he too walked away from you.

Finally sitting down on your chair, you let out a huge sigh, Officer Dreamy, as you kindly nicknamed him to yourself, stuck in your head. You knew it was inappropriate to harvest a crush on a superior at work, but gosh was it hard to.

“And Yn?” his voice startled you.

“Hmm” you managed to hum as you found his head poking out from behind a wall.

“Call me Dick.”

Lights went off one by one around you, as you still sat on your desk, files of cases long forgotten, while you typed in a class project you were due very soon.

As life worked conspired to put you down, your laptop had given up on you, deciding that the smokey life was the way to go now and simply choosing not to work ever again. So, you had to stick around the precinct or the library till the wee hours of the night if you wanted to get any uni work done.

“Yn” a voice called you, starling you out of your seat. “Still here?”

Officer Grayson, looking as tired as you must have looked, made his way to your desk. In his hands, some papers you’d come to know were cases he took frequently to study at home.

“I have to finish an essay.” you informed, voice almost not making it out, as you had neglected your health and hadn’t gotten a single sip of water all day.

“What happened to your computer? I remember you bringing one before.”

“Decided to give out smoke signals, I guess.” you joked, managing to steal a smile from him. “It broke, and I’m too broke to fix it, so I have to stay here if I want to finish this essay tonight.”

Your eyes itched from the extensive exposure to the computer lights, your back also causing you discomfort. But you still had work to do, so there was no way you were leaving any time soon, and quickly you returned your attention to your essay ignoring, for once, your favorite male presence in the precinct as you didn’t want to miss the peak of energy and creativity you had gotten to.

As you typed unaware of his lingering presence, Officer Grayson stood by your desk for a while, watching as you swiftly typed word after word of your homework. “You aren’t going to stay here till too late, right?”

“I’m not sure.” you moaned, rubbing your eyes with the palm of your hands. “I really have to finish this but I’m not even close.”

Returning your gaze to him, you found his eyes and they bore into your, making your breath get caught up in your throat and your heart to skip a beat. You wanted to focus on your school work and go home, get some much needed sleep before starting your routine all over again, but Dick’s mere presence pushed away all your academic thoughts.

It was like his body irradiated an energy, a gravity field, that pulled you in from wherever you were. That trapped your attention, leaving you breathless even though you hadn’t run, leaving your head heavy as the most painful headache, leaving you completely, deeply, under his spell.

As you focused on him, you noticed the bags forming under his eyes and his much messier hair, as if he had, and he did, spent hours running his fingers through it as an attempt to concentrate. His clothes were ruffled, and you swore his belt seemed to have been loosed at some point during the day.

To you, he was like a painting at an art gallery. Exquisite, expensive, beautifully breathtaking… and forever unreachable.

On a scale from one to ten, you were minus forty in the levels of importance inside the department. Nobody really cared for the interns. They were nice and all, but they knew they wouldn’t last long, so why bother connecting, why bother giving them too much attention. And yet, officer Grayson would come over to you, every single day, saying his “his” and “goodbyes”, wishing you a good morning, a good night, a great weekend.

He was truly a being out of this world. A gentleman amongst mere humans, too kind, too sweet for this world, for this city. You often wondered how the hell did he, the son of a billionaire, end up working with the police, and the answered you always came up with was that he must have been the only truly good and altruistic person alive, opting to care for the people instead of being a pretentious heir like many others.

If he had looked over at your computer screen, he’d have found a soup of words that together made zero sense, as your mind couldn’t only write Dick Dick Dick Dick, in both meanings of the word.

“A-hem.” he coughed breaking your awkward stare competition. “I have to get going, Yn. Please don’t stay up too late, and message me when you get home.”

“I don’t have your number.” you mindlessly blurted out.

“I have yours,” he stated, catching you off guard. “I’ll text you. See you tomorrow?” he asked, seeming actually interested in a positive answer.

“Uh-huh.”

“See you, then. Goodbye, Miss Ys.”

“Goodbye, officer.”

It was past midnight when you eventually turned off your computer and headed out of the police department. Sleepiness weighs your body down, making each step a harder task than it should've been.

Saying your goodbyes to the officers working the night shift, many of those telling you to be careful as they feared the dangerous Gotham nights would turn you into one more of its victims, you made your way down the large set of steps, an activity much easier than climbing them in the morning.

As you step into the sidewalk you’re embraced by the darkness. The cold breeze hitting you, making you wrap your jacket tightly around your body, a shield from the freezing weather and the demons of the night. Your bag is glued to your hips and your eyes scanning the area for any strange movement.

You’re glad some of those police officers had been kind enough to teach you how to realize some signs before anything bad happens, applying it to your everyday life as you could never be sure of your surroundings in this city.

When you turned right on the first corner, a moving shadow had your neck hairs up and a shiver running up your spine. Your fight or flight instincts overcoming you as your steps grew faster and faster.

“Yn, wait!” you heard the shadow owner scream, your heart skipping a beat before your mind could make up the situation. It took you a while to figure out who the scream belonged to, the fear blinding your senses and preventing you from forming any type of judgment, but something in you clicked and upon turning around it everything was all made clear.

“Officer Grayson?” you questioned, confused by his appearance as he had gone home almost two hours earlier. He now wore a pair of dark gray or black sweatpants, the faint light hindering your perception, a black t-shirt and a thick overall to shield him from the cold. The tips of his hair dripped with a few droplets of water, and even in the darkness you could make up his red nose gifted by the freezing weather.

He looked cozy, huggable, like a plushie pillow you hugged to go to bed. This look on him made your chest warm up and you swore you wouldn’t need a jacket soon.

“Why are you following me? Why are you here?”

“I’m sorry if I scared you, Yn. I thought it’d be better if I didn’t scream, but maybe I was wrong,” he apologized, rushing the words out of his mouth.

“I just didn’t expect to see you here.” you smiled, unable to hide the joy from seeing him again. Your smile made him feel less bad for scaring you, but his eyes still looked into yours like he apologized for it.

“I didn’t get your text.” he said, his statement confusing you a little. “That you were going home?”

Oh, that! It was your turn to feel bad, your cheeks, if possible for him to see, painted red but not from the coldness.

“I was expecting your text and didn’t get it, so I showered and came here to see if you’d gone home and I found you still in your computer. I was waiting for you to come out.”

YOU WERE WAITING FOR ME?!, you wanted to scream, his words making your head spin, trying to work out the reason why they came out of his pretty lips. The idea of him waiting for god knows how long till you finished your essay making you dizzy.

“It didn’t feel right letting you go home alone at this hour.” he continued to explain, seemingly aware of the questions inside your head. “So I came back after taking a shower to pick you up.”

HE CAME BACK. HE WENT HOME. TOOK A SHOWER, A SHOWER HE PROBABLY, DEFINITELY, TOOK NAKED. AND CAME BACK TO PICK ME UP????

Oh lord, your head was truly spinning and you hoped you weren’t dizzy enough to end up falling and making a fool of yourself. No single sentence was merged in your mind, your lips blurting out whatever overcame them without any filter: “The subway isn’t empty.”

He chuckled at your silly response and reaching for his coat’s pocket, he picked up his car keys, shaking them in front of your eyes. “Are you declining a ride home? Thought you’d love to ride in a Porsche tonight.”

At the sound of “Porsche”, you let out an excited giggle. You always wanted to find out what car Dick drove, a man’s choice of vehicle being a way into understanding his lifestyle and tastes, and not only were you finding out now but you were also getting to ride in it with him.

“I think it’s an offer I can’t really let pass.”

Showing you the way to his car with his head, he let you walk past him, and when you did his hand met your waist as he guided you in its direction.

It was like you entered into another reality when you crossed the Police Department’s doors, meeting an Officer Dick Grayson that you always dreamed of but never expected to become a reality.

The warm touch of his hand on the small of your back gave you shivers along with a sense of safety not even a room full of police officers had given you. It was different, somehow, in a way you found hard to explain, but that made your heart beat nervously, your breathing to get hectic and your stomach to take turns.

Soon, the silvery car was beside you and the man opened the passenger door for you with his free hand. You thanked him and slid inside the car, the warmed leather seats a comfortable welcome after hours spent on the painful cheap chair by your desk, and when he closed the door you took the few seconds until he was sat beside you to at least try to recollect yourself.

Richard John Grayson isn’t just giving you a ride, he came all the way from his home to do so. You didn’t know where he lives, but it couldn’t be too close. He went out of his way to do that for you, and what that meant frightened you a little.

The warmness of the seats couldn’t compare to what his touch had made you feel. As his hand slid off of your skin you let out a low moan you hoped he didn’t have the time to listen to, already missing the feeling he had given you.

It made you both afraid, nervous and excited, and you couldn’t help the smile from spreading on your lips, even when biting down on them or chewing the insides of your cheeks. You sat still, spine straight and hands resting on top of your bag laid up on your lap, while he calmly walked to the driver’s side, the opposite reflection of how he made you feel.

“Amusement Mile?” he looked at you for confirmation, the engine of the car warming up. Your eyes were glued to his every movement, admiring every single breath he took.

You simply shook your head to answer, biting on your bottom lip in contemplation.

“It’s gonna be a long ride, so make yourself comfortable.” he told you before continuing. “And I almost forgot…”

Reaching for something behind your seat, you felt his breath on your neck, sending more shiver up your spine, a recurring thing tonight. “I got you some soup. To warm up.”

“Wow. Thank you, officer.”

“Yn?” he called you and you hummed, letting him continue. “What did I tell you to call me?”

“I’m sorry.” you apologized, remembering the moment you’d shared earlier. “Thank you, Dick.”

“Perfect.”

Turned just enough to face you, it was his time to bite on his lip, the sight sending your hormones to overdrive.

The ride was mostly silent, as you both felt comfortable in just each other’s presence. You drank your soup and he drove carefully to not make it spill. He left his playlist on shuffle and you commented on a few surprising tunes.

“I didn’t take you for a reggaeton kind of guy.”

“Hey, I appreciate the sounds of many different cultures!”

And faster than you had wished for, you two were parked by your front door.

“Thank you, offic… Dick, really. I would have taken at least double the time to arrive by subway, so I really cannot thank you enough for this, you really didn’t have to.”

“Nonsense, I’m always here to help, and I wouldn’t sleep well knowing you could be in danger.”

For the 1000th time tonight, your cheeks grew scarlet and you avoided Dick’s eyes. The yawn coming out of you the perfect getaway from the situation you didn’t not know how to handle.

“I better get going, or else I’m just gonna take a nap before having to go back to the precinct all over again.” you sent him a smile before opening the door, but before you stepped outside you felt his hand touch you again, this time reaching for you tight.

“If you want to, I can pick you up tomorrow morning.” his thumb lightly drew patterns in your jeans, and you could feel a hit of sweat on the palm of his hands and the spot on your tight grew humid.

“It would be asking for too much.”

“No it wouldn’t.” he didn’t wait for you to finish. “I’d love to.”

He had your full attention, his eyes trapping yours in a drunken haze. The air around you got thicker, warmer, too hot, as if the winter night was just a mere illusion outside the car. You had sat back in your seat, not sure if the door was open or closed because only him mattered now, only his eyes drifting from yours to your lips, only his tongue moistening his own, only the slow movement of his head getting closer to yours.

You wouldn’t remember the next few seconds even if described to you in the smallest details, you just remember meeting his lips halfway. At first, a hasty kiss, your lips barely moving but already igniting you with an electric feeling. His teeth pulled on your bottom lip, causing a moan to escape off of you.

His hand went to your neck and the kiss deepened, his tongue immediately sliding inside your mouth, playing with yours as your hands found his waist in search for balance, even though you remained at your seat.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” you cut the kiss, your own mind betraying you with the words that flew out of your mouth. “But I really want to.”

“I don’t see why we shouldn't,” he said, connecting your lips once again.

He sucked and nibbled at your lips, certainly leaving small bruises on it, but who were you to complain. All night, your anxiousness tried to get the best of you, but his kiss and his touch held you hostage in a passionate haze.

“It’s dangerous to be on the streets this late.” he told you between kisses.

“We can go upstairs.” you offered, wanting to extend the moment as much as you could.

“I wouldn’t wanna bother your roommate.”

“I don’t have a roommate.” you informed, eyes meeting his once more in search of confirmation.

Kissing where your neck met your ears, he whispered. “I’ll park the car.”

“You can leave it right here.” you moaned, desperately wanting to move things inside. He chuckled, pulled you in for another kiss and then quickly jumped out of the car. He followed you as you climbed the stairs to your floor, managing to control himself and stay far enough as to not throw you against the walls and fuck you right then and there, but the gentleman inside of him held him together and he anxiously watched you unlock your apartment door.

You threw your bag somewhere, and walked inside your home aimlessly. You didn’t bring many guys over, so you always struggled to figure out what to do at this point.

“Yn.” you heard Dick calling, spinning on your heels to meet him.

Throwing his key on a table, he came over to you without wasting time, hands grabbing your face and smashing your lips together for a hotter, wetter, dirtier kiss.

His tongue sucked you yours as your hands traveled on his chiseled torso, sliding inside his shirt for the full experience. You scratch the skin with your nails and he quivered under your touch. “Fuck.” he let out, pushing you against the head of the sofa.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you shortened the distance between your bodies even more and his hands moved down your body, from your back to your ass, to your tight where he grabbed and entangled them around his waist. He placed you on top of the sofa, magically not letting your lips grow apart.

You could feel the bulge on his pants hardening with each touch, so you lowered one hand to cup his member in it’s entirety, but not managing to get a hold of half of it. Shit. You tried to pull at his waistband, but he pushed your hand away. “I’m not wasting time.” he said, taking you off of your seat. “I need to be inside you.”

Shit, shit, shit, shit. The thought of his words becoming a reality soaking your panties more than they already were, as you had to grind on his clothed crotch to get the friction, the sensation you so desperately needed. You wanted him inside of you now, not a minute later.

“Your room?” he asked.

“First door to the right.” you said, gasping for air between his kisses.

With ease, he walked to your bedroom as if he knew you home by heart, and as if he didn’t carry a girl but just a stuffed toy. His only struggle came at the door handle, but reaching behind you you managed to open it up for him, a group effort for a group pleasure.

Dick let go of your legs, letting your feet hit the floor once again. His hands were quick to find the hem of your shirt, tugging at it before you broke the kiss to allow him to pull it over your head, your bra being ripped off your skin not much later. His shirt and sweatpants flew behind him too in just a few seconds, and he soon had you pinned on the bed, hands trapped by his on top of your head.

Dick had an urgency in him you’d never seen before, more used to his calm demeanor. He grunted on your ear as he sucked on your neck, leaving marks you knew you wouldn’t be able to hide at work, and he grinded his clothed dick on your bare pussy.

“You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting this.” he groaned, one hand grabbing tightly at your boob. “Some days beside you were pure torture.”

You couldn’t imagine an Officer Dreamy having dreams about you, just like you did with him, but from the sound of it, he had plenty. All you could do was moan out his name, his mouth doing magic on your neck as his hands finally reached where you needed him more.

Rubbing slowly at your clit, you tried humping it, wanting it faster, wanting release, but his movements remained slow, torturous.

“D-dick.” you cried out his name, begging him to speed up his touch.

“Say it again, darling. Say it.” he requested. “Let my fucking name slip out of your dirty little mouth.”

“Dick. Dick, please!” you obeyed, little the silly little slut you were for him. If your friends or coworkers found out about this, they’d be very disapproving, they’d tell you it was wrong to fuck your superior, but fuck it, fuck him you will.

He moaned loudly in your ear and his movements gained speed. He rubbed at your clit harshly, making it bruise, but the pain only added to the growing sensation on your core. He lowered his head and his lip grabbed your nipple, and his sucks were enough to bring you to the edge.

“You came so hard for me, darling.”

Moving away from your skin, setting your hands free, he admired your cum glistening on his hands before bringing them to his mouth and licking it off his finger. “I knew you’d taste fucking delicious.”

This idea of him wanting to fuck you for so long did wonders to your ego and booted any confidence you still had. The man you so desperately wanted for so long had wanted you as desperately for just as long. Your heart beat so fast you were sure he could hear it, but you wanted him too, no secrets lying between you two anymore.

Without you noticing, his boxers were gone and his hard dick bounced on his crotch, the rosy tip, dripping with precum, staining his stomach. Lining up outside your entrance, rubbing his tip on your clit just to tease you a little more, his eyes met yours. They trapped you as they did inside the car, but now they didn’t stare at you with simple desire. It burned, it consumed him and needed to find a way to release it. And his way was you.

With no warning, he thrusted into you, his size ripping you open and you let out a scream as you prayed your neighbors were heavy sleepers. Dick, as soon as his member was fully within you, let out a guttural groan, the sexiest moan you’d ever heard come out of a man.

“F-fuck you’re so tight.” he moaned. “Just like I imagined.”

Lying on top of you, he met your lips, he wrapped your fingers in his and slid your hands to the top of your head again. His thrusts were fast, hard, reaching you deeper and deeper, taking out of you a scream louder than the other, only muffled by his mouth that refused to leave yours.

You wrapped your leg around his waist, wanting him to go deeper, if it was even possible, so consumed with lust that all logic melted out of your mind.

It wasn’t a fuck, it was love making, sensual and nearly animalistic love making, and the idea of it made the butterflies in your stomach go feral just as you were. If he loved you or not, even it was even something else more the pure lust, was a discussion for later, but he fucked you like no one else did, and you only hoped it was a sign he was not like the others. That he wasn’t just a single page in a large book.

The wet sound of your skins meeting each other filled the room, but only because your mouths were glued together, all sound not allowed to make it out.

“You’re taking me in so good, aren’t you Yn?”

“Yes, y-yes. You’re filling me so good.” you cried back.

“Are you gonna come on my dick, Yn? Are you gonna let me feel you coming?” he teased, nearly as desperate for your orgasm as you were.

“Yes.” you replied, louder than you’d wished. With a few more thrusts, you came all over his hard dick, your body shaking ferociously, reaching a high you’d never reached before. “Uuh, yes!�� you screamed, as he continued to pump into you, his own orgasm imminent.

“I’m gonna come, Yn.” he announced, thrusting once more before taking his member out of your pussy and stroking it up and down with his hands. His milky load hit your belly, painting you in sin, as your tongue extended out for a little drip of it.

Exhausted, Dick threw himself on the bed beside you, both your breath audibly out of pace. Your body was covered in sweat, your bed sheet sticking to your back as you tried your best to recollect yourself.

“Officer McCaffrey would be so disappointed.” you joked, getting a loud laugh out of the man beside you. Crossing his arm over your waist, he pulled you closer to him, kissing the wet baby hairs at your temple.

“Wanna disappoint him again?” he asked, turning your face to meet your eyes, his new found favorite thing to look at.

“All night?” you asked in return.

“All fucking night.”

It was safe to say you were late for work again the next morning, and would be late a few more times, as Officer Dreamy would gladly keep you up for as long as you wished.

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x yn #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson smut

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read-marx-and-lenin · 11 days

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Can you explain why 1984 is fundamentally reactionary? I remember seeing a journalistic article talking about the same thing but sadly it was paywalled

The whole premise of the book is "if we let the government do too much stuff, eventually the government will get so big it will do Everything and nobody will be able to stop it, it will grow so big it will be a self-perpetuating tyranny."

It's your typical liberal cautionary tale against "authoritarianism", conflating fascism and communism while understanding neither. Orwell had never been to the Soviet Union, and instead drew heavily from his own experience working for the British Ministry of Information. Later in his life, he would even compile a list of suspected Communists to hand over to British intelligence agents, some on the list included solely because they were gay or Jewish.

Animal Farm is another example of his reactionary sentiment, in which the peasants and workers of the Soviet Union are depicted as gullible and weak-minded animals jerked around at every turn by the pigs, a stand-in for Marxists in general and Bolsheviks specifically. Incidentally, Orwell during his time at the Ministry of Information had become acquainted with one Gertrude Elias, who shared with him her own idea for a cartoon film depicting the Nazis as tyrannical pigs ruling over the other animals in a farm. Orwell had told her the idea wasn't any good, before going on to write Animal Farm, replacing the fascists in the story with communists.

Here's a good read about Animal Farm by the way, which I feel shows very clearly the kind of reactionary Orwell was:

Compare Orwell's depiction of the mindless masses in Animal Farm to the "proles" in 1984. 1984 hardly mentions them except to say that they all live in squalor and have no agency worth considering, which allows them to live free of surveillance and control, since the State doesn't see any purpose in expending the resources to surveil them. They're all dumb, mindless addicts and gamblers whose only purpose is to provide menial labor. Meanwhile, the protagonist of the book, who is cunning and able to question the whole situation, is a middle-class white collar propagandist, just like Orwell was during his time at the Ministry of Information. Orwell clearly viewed himself as superior to the mindless masses, and he was a racist to boot, just look at what he wrote about the Burmese or the Irish. The Russian masses as depicted in Animal Farm needed little more than to be ordered around and they were willing to follow whoever was giving the orders. The English masses as depicted in 1984 needed a bureaucratic mountain of sophisticated social engineering dedicated entirely to manipulating every last minutia of information in society in order to be subject to the same level of control.

#anon ask #communism #socialism #leftism #anti capitalism

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stylescine · 9 months

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Okayy so what if y/n and H are at a club and they’re grinding and dancing to the music but they decide to take things up a notch and fuck in the bathroom stall ??

i am OBSESSED with that! i know harry would love to secretly fuck in a bathroom when he's desperate :,)

warnings: somewhat public sex, unprotected sex (p in v), hair pulling, dom harry, drunk sex, mentions of alcohol, soft harry at the end, dirty talk

Masterlist | Request

The club was filled to the brim. Sweaty bodies dancing around each other, the music blaring from the speakers and flashing lights illuminating the dance floor. Harry and Y/N had been dancing together for a while, taking each other's hands, twirling around or just grinding their bodies together. Harry was standing behind her, his breath hitting her neck while his arm was wrapped around her from behind. His crotch was pressed against her backside, keeping her close as she was grinding her bum against him. She was moving in the rhythm of the music, the alcohol pumping through her veins and urging her on. Y/N was having a fabulous night, as was her boyfriend. Going clubbing was a rare occasion for them, so it was even more special whenever they got the chance to do it.

Clubbing nights usually involved a lot of alcohol for the both of them. They couldn't keep their hands off each other either and this dance was no exception. Drunken sex always remained at the top of their imaginary list and while they both often suffered from a hangover the next day, the sex the evening before was always worth it. Their touches were without shame, their voices heard throughout their home and Y/N could still feel the orgasm in her legs the next morning. There was a certain thrill about fucking drunk out of their minds and Y/N suspected today would be no different.

She continued to grind against Harry and his breathing quickened. His hold around her grew stronger, his crotch growing harder as she could feel it against her butt. There was a smirk on her face and desire growing in her stomach. She needed him and he needed her. Desperately.

His hand snuck under her shirt, brushing over her soft skin ever so slightly, teasing her ever so slightly. She could feel Harry's breath tickle against her neck as he leaned forward, lips brushing over her ear. "You drive me crazy, darling." His voice was deep and his words a bit slurred from all the drinks he already enjoyed. But there was a desperation in his tone that she could only attribute to his own desire.

Y/N's lips turned into a grin. She was in for an interesting time tonight. Her grinding motions continued as Harry was breathing heavily against her neck. His hand pressed her body closer to his and his growing desire was evident. "Maybe we should move to the bathroom, sweetheart?" He suggested. They were still in the middle of the dance floor and her movements just continued to get Harry worked up. She could feel her own panties become a wet mess. As soon as she turned around, she was met with Harry's darkened eyes and a blush on his face.

Some curls were hanging onto his forehead and his lips were slightly parted. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she stepped as close as she could and brushed his lips with her own. Harry bent down to connect their lips into a kiss. He tasted of tequila and something sweet she couldn't identify. His kiss was desperate, full of passion.

"Let's go," he urged her and as soon as she removed her arms from him, he intertwined their fingers and dragged her through the crowd towards the bathroom. This wasn't the first time they were sneaking away at a party to have their own kind of fun. A giggle left her as they were making their way through the mass of people, excitement bubbling inside her.

Harry looked around them for a moment before he slipped her into the men's restroom with him. He opened the door to an empty stall and pulled her inside, locking the blue door behind them. Y/N turned around to him and her boyfriend was quick to push her up against the wall, his hands moving to her hips. She was wearing a short, black dress tonight and it had been tempting Harry all evening. His hard-on was clearly visible in his beige trousers, pushing his hips against her own. His hands slid up her waist while he kissed her, his tongue dancing with her own.

She needed him desperately. There was an ache in her belly as her entire body was aching for him as well. Her hips moved against his hardness, heavy breaths escaping her throat. Her hands slid into his curls, tugging on them lightly. Harry let out a groan in response, his left hand sliding down to her thigh only to move back up, but under her dress this time.

The touch left her with goosebumps all over her body.

"I need you," she whispered against his lips. Harry let out an amused chuckle, pulling back just a bit to take a look at her. His eyes were darkened with lust, pupils wide and his lips red from her own lipstick. The blush remained on his cheeks, a sign of his own desire.

"You've been tempting me all night, darling. Maybe we should get straight to it, because I sure as hell can't wait until we get home."

He didn't have to say more.

Her fingers soon fumbled with the buttons of his pants. She opened them with ease, pulling down the zipper and Harry assisted her in pushing his pants down her legs.

His boner was straining against his boxers. The sight of him hard in front of her would always be a good one for her. There was nothing like seeing Harry's hard cock, dripping with pre-cum. She pushed his underwear down quickly, hand wrapping around his shaft for a moment. She gave it a few tugs, watching her boyfriend fall apart in front of her. His hand pressed against the wall above her to support himself.

Harry was trying to suppress his moans by pressing his lips together. "God, Y/N," he mumbled. The tip of his cock was swollen and red, ready for attention. She could make out a drop or two on his slit and she was tempted to bend down to capture them with her tongue.

But she didn't get the chance to when Harry's fingers wrapped around her first firmly and pulled her hand away from him.

"Turn around." His voice was low and raspy. There was a firmness in his tone that made her thighs tremble. She loved it whenever Harry was taking control of the situation.

Y/N didn't hesitate to turn her back to him, putting her hands against the wall in front of her.

"Bend forward."

She leaned forward, biting her lower lip in anticipation. She could feel the colder air around her thighs when Harry pushed up her dress and pulled her panties down. The air hit her wet pussy and the wetness that had already spread around the insides of her thighs. Her core was aching for his cock, contracting around nothing.

"Such a pretty arse."

Harry's large hands squeezed her cheeks. She could feel the coldness of his rings on her naked skin and it was thrilling her even more.

Y/N spread her legs a bit more to allow Harry better access to her cunt. She could feel his finger slide through her folds so delicately, the tip barely sliding inside her. A whimper escaped her and she almost closed her legs again.

Then two of his fingers slid into her wet core, curling just right to hit her sweet spot. She bit down on her lip to prevent herself from moaning too loudly. The knot in her belly was tightening and her legs were starting to shake from her need. She needed to feel Harry stretch her out again, to thrust into her as hard as he could and leave her as a trembling mess. Even if it meant she would have to walk around the rest of the night like that.

Harry pulled his fingers away again before she could feel the tip of his cock push against her entrance. He slowly eased inside her, his hand moving into her hair simultaneously.

As soon as he was buried deep inside her, the initial sting disappearing, she let out a long sigh. Harry was big and she had gotten used to the feeling with time, but it still felt incredibly good to have him completely fill her out.

He pulled her head back by her hair, leaning forward to whisper into her ear. "Taking me so well even out in public," he whispered and his voice sent shivers down her spine.

Her answer was only a combinations of moans and whimpers.

His hips soon started to move, his thrusts fast and determined. He bottomed out inside her every time, groaning into her ear as he was bringing them both closer to their high.

Harry's free hand snuck down to her clit, flicking over the sensitive bud over and over again. His thrusts made her legs shake and she couldn't hold back a moan every now and then even when she tried to be as quiet as possible. The sound of their skin slapping together filled the room as well, combined with the filthy sound of her wet pussy.

"You're so fucking sexy." Harry's teeth tugged on her earlobe after his words, his thrusts slowing down for a moment before he pulled back again to give her a deep and hard thrust. She let out a long moan, hands pressing against the wall in front of her. He pulled on her hair once more, harder this time, just as he started thrusting again.

He was quick this time. His rhythm still remained precise, but he was chasing after his own climax with his movements. Y/N's nails desperately tried to find some support at the wall in front of her, her thighs shaking as she was nearing her own orgasm.

Then Harry slowed down his pace, giving her a few more hard thrusts until a groan slipped past his lips and she could feel him pulse inside her. A few more flicks over her clit and it was enough to push her over the edge as well as she bit down on her lip.

Her body was shaking as Harry wrapped his arms around her to keep her steady. Her orgasm was rocking through her, intense and long, a final relief to all the tension that had built up since they had stepped onto the dance floor together and started to grind against each other.

Harry buried his face in her hair, pressing a kiss to her head as he gently rocked his hips against her.

Her breathing was heavy as she slowly came down from her high. As soon as Harry's cock went soft, he pulled out of her again, his hands resting on her hips while Y/N tried to stand straight again.

A low chuckle escaped her boyfriend's lips as she turned to face him again, her face a warm mess and her legs feeling unstable.

Harry gave her a soft kiss. His fingers brushed some hair out of her face before his hand cupped her cheek.

"I love you, darling."

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eggluverz · 7 months

Text

A STARE WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS

PAIRING. dan feng x gn!reader

WORD COUNT. 1.4k

SUMMARY. you and dan feng were just friends. close comrades who challenged each other. but you were starting to suspect that just friends don't stare at each other like this...

NOTE: dan feng on the brain !!!! i was looking thru some writing prompts and there was a list of friends to lovers that inspired meeee :> i hope y'all enjoy this lil dan feng drabble!! :o ~sof

It wasn’t always easy being a friend of the esteemed High Cloud Quintet, but it sure was fun. In a group of warriors and leaders, some of your morals seemed to go against the grain. With your more pacifist approach, you preferred healing and mediating disagreements rather than resorting to a clash of the swords.

Still, you were not young with folly such as before. You understood there was a time and place for everything and, sometimes, war was inevitable in this world. You could only sigh to yourself, wishing it weren’t so.

But while battles waged on, you at least wanted to help those wounded trying to fight for what was right—no matter how misguided you thought their approach was.

Dan Feng was someone you chose to confide in. The great warrior, the Imbibitor Lunae, somehow empathized with your inner conflicts more than you would have expected him to. He may have been a cutthroat, fearless leader, but he was also gentle and thoughtful, pondering whether or not the ends truly justified the means in between brutal battles.

The people he led could never see that ever-questioning side of him. Nor could he ever find the vulnerability to show them. That was something he reserved only for the closest of friends.

That was something he reserved only for you.

You let out a deep breath after a long day of work, smiling only to greet Dan Feng who had asked you to meet up with him over dinner.

“Like a date,” Baiheng sang with a grin when you had told her the previous day.

Your cheeks flushed at the memory. Two friends could certainly partake in evening consumption of sustenance together without it being a date, you had reminded her. And yourself.

“Sure, but do just friends stare into each other’s eyes for seconds too long like you two do?”

With a small laugh and a shake of your head, you brought yourself back to present time with Dan Feng.

“Good evening,” you greeted with a wave. “Have you been waiting long?”

“I have been left alone here all day waiting for your arrival,” he jested with a dramatic sigh, one corner of his mouth tilting upwards to let you know he was only joking.

“Of course,” you played along, “I do not doubt that the great Imbibitor Lunae has plenty of time to spare waiting about.”

“For you? Most certainly.”

You fought a grin off your face at his kindness. Dan Feng truly was a good person, always putting his friends first. For a moment, you wondered how much more thoughtful he would be towards a partner—towards someone he had romantic feelings for. But you did not allow yourself to entertain those thoughts for too long. After all, you had food to eat.

“I requested your favorite dish,” he said as the meal came to your table. Establishments in which private outdoor dining was an accommodation were not common in your area, so you and Dan Feng often frequented the one closest to you. It was no strange feat for him to commit your favorite dish to memory. “I hope I did not overstep, but it was getting dark out and I know you tend to grow rather famished at this hour.”

You smiled as the scent of the food in front of you wafted through the air, causing your stomach to grumble quietly. “I appreciate your preparation, Dan Feng. You aren’t overstepping in the slightest.”

In fact, you quite liked that Dan Feng went out of his way to ensure you would have food to eat by the time you arrived for dinner. He was right— You were running late today and you were rather peckish by the time you had arrived. It was a simple act of kindness, and you were grateful for it.

Dan Feng really was nice to his friends.

If you did not have a good head on your shoulders, you might have let your emotions confuse the situation and misread his intentions towards you. He simply was a good friend to you and the High Cloud Quintet, though in moments of delusion you felt yourself imagining more.

Especially moments of delusion fueled by the unnerving stare on his face directed right at you. Unnerving in a positive sense, of course.

Unnerving in a way of not being able to understand the depth of emotions behind those bright eyes of his. Unnerving enough to pique your curiosity and want to learn just what that stare meant.

The certain stare he was giving you right now.

Was he looking at you like a confidant? A scholar to share his pacifist literature with? A friend? A lover?

If Dan Feng noticed your inner turmoil, all he did was smile. It was a smile that said he knew exactly what was running through your mind. His piercing gaze stayed locked on yours as he tilted his head and took a sip of tea.

Unable to help yourself, you blurted, “Do you intend to look at me in such a way?”

An expression of delighted amusement formed on his face before he regained his stoic composure. “In what manner are you referring to, my dear?”

Your heart stirred in confusion at his affectionate words. This High Elder truly had a disarming effect on you.

“Such as how you are staring at me right now!” you cried, feeling rather indignant. “It is how you’ve been staring at me for the past few months, even. It— It bewilders me!”

“And how, exactly, am I staring at you?” he pushed, a confident smile on his lips as he awaited your answer.

“You are staring at me…as if you want me.”

His eyes widened for a brief moment, like he was shocked you gave in to his teasing and prodding this time.

“You keep staring at me like that, and treating me in a special manner… You should be careful, Dan Feng,” you said with a sigh, slowly bringing your utensils to your mouth. Before biting, you stated, “You could confuse even the most refined of individuals that way, are you aware?”

He studied you before asking, “As an esteemed and refined Vidyadhara yourself, what do you find confusing?”

“Whether I am reading your intentions incorrectly or not,” you said, no longer bothering to hide you frustration.

“It is not my desire to confuse you,” promised Dan Feng, a genuine look on his face as you finally met his gaze again. “For that, I apologize sincerely.”

Your stomach churned in dejected understanding. “Thank you for the apologize. It is okay.”

Perhaps you shouldn’t have gotten ahead of yourself and confused his kindness for interest. You shoved the food around on your plate, trying to downplay your disappointment that Dan Feng did not desire you after all.

At your lackluster response, he cleared his throat. He looked at your downcast expression and frowned. “Perhaps I am not making myself clear enough. Believe me, you are certainly not misinterpreting my intentions.”

Your eyes widened at his clarification. “Meaning…?”

“I do want you.” Dan Feng set his teacup down with a conspiratorial glint in his eye. “I admire your strength and your intellect. Your desire for peace and your willingness to do what is right. You are nuanced and complex and, at times, even oblivious,” he smiled at the thought of you misunderstanding his initial confession, “and you are my close friend I have found myself getting more and more drawn to.”

Giggles bubbled up from inside you, more so in excitement than in amusement. If it weren’t unbecoming of an unpartnered Vidyadhara to show public displays of affection, you would have ran over to Dan Feng and given him a hug by now.

“I want you, too, Dan Feng,” is what you said instead. “You are cunning and sharp, yet understanding and gentle. Your thoughtfulness is inspiring and I have never met anyone more loyal than you.”

The apples of his cheeks tinged the lightest pink you had ever seen, and you fought the urge to continuously shower him with more compliments.

“You’re the only one I could confide my potentially treasonous thoughts in,” you laughed while he nodded with amusement. Your gaze softened as your tone grew more serious. “You are one of my best friends, but I can envision a road in which we are more than that, even— Lovers.”

If he was surprised at all, he did not show it.

“That is the path I would prefer to take.” Dan Feng extended his hand from across the table as if it were a mere offering to your boundless grace. “Do you desire to take it with me?”

“With you?” you repeated, slipping your hand into his with a smile. “Most certainly.”

#hsr x reader #dan feng x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr imagines #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr fanfiction #dan heng x reader #dan feng #imbibitor lunae #imbibitor lunae x reader

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thesunshinecourts · 14 days

Text

five curiosities for the next book, after reading the sunshine court

a non-exhaustive list, but five things i'm curious to (hopefully) find out more about in TSC2, or that i have questions about still:

what happened at the trojans' fall banquet (presumably jeremy's first year)? it's a Scandal, and jeremy cannot stand to be around bryson, and annalise has never forgiven him for sticking with exy after that, despite having attended all his games in high school. given the allusions to his stepfather, and also his step-grandfather being a congressman, i can see how jeremy's sexuality might be relevant to the situation—especially if we read into lucas' stiff apology and shame at his implication about jeremy and jean as being born from more than just common decency, but rather knowledge of this being a previous sticking point in terms of jeremy's scandals—but i also keep thinking about what cat said. jeremy has—three. two brothers, one sister. the way she says it, how it sticks out to jean as an odd switch, and the fact that we've only met two siblings – it makes me wonder what happened to the third. or if that's even the right question to ask, regarding jeremy's siblings.

elodie. i'm curious if we learn anything about what happened—by and large, i kinda hope not, if only because then jean has to too, unless it turns out stuart is lying, but that's a very different kind of fallout. (i don't actively theorise he is—at some point, these kids will run out of tolerance for ghost stories coming back to life—but i think its possibility ought to be considered, at least). i think we'll get more flashes of her from jean's thoughts, though, and i anticipate lots of heartbreak lmao

lucas. assuming stuart's contact comes through, and neil's hit goes ahead, we've got lucas in the aftermath of finding out his brother is a monster, and jean saying not to call the police, and then possibly his brother being dead. if it happens any other day—if it happens in west virginia, especially—i suspect lucas might be able to look at it like another domino in the ravens machine falling down, or even that something horrible happened to him when he returned home, but if it's still in LA, after what he did to jean, after jean said no cops-------i can see how that might twist into something more suspicious. who knows! i'm curious to see what happens there. grayson is a monster, but he is still lucas' brother. aaron and kevin still have complicated grief about tilda and riko, and they were their direct, constant abusers; cass never learned until after the fact, and lucas is in a complex space between the two parts of that spectrum. if grayson dies, i think the fallout will be unavoidable for exploration

this is a small one but man, i just want to keep seeing jean's list grow. it tears something out of me every time, and stitches me back together, and i want to go through that over and over, because i want to see a jean who not only hears that his life is his and worth living, but a jean who learns to believe it too

i'm just kinda assuming we see the foxes again, because i remember nora's character list having new details about characters who didn't show up in this one, but i'm also quietly hoping for more thea. their scene made me ache, and he'd never had good defenses against thea, and kevin knew that. jean would kill him for bringing her here made my heart do the !! double-tap. i'm extremely invested in jean, thea and kevin as a unit, and it would be so incredibly wonderful to see more

#the sunshine court #tsc #tsc spoilers #TSC2 #jeremy knox #jean moreau #elodie moreau #thea muldani #lucas johnson

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the-traveling-poet · 5 months

Note

hi Lynn!! I’ve been binge reading your profile and let me tell you, I love your reading. May I request some Levi x reader fluff where they're married n have a 3 y/o daughter named kutchel. Levi's wife is 8 months along with their 2nd kid. They're all excited n kutchel just wants to play. Kutchel tries to drag reader along to play but reader is very exhausted n cant keep up w kutchel but still tries to hide her exhaustion n make her happy. Levi comes back from the tea shop or something after work, and it’s worried his wife will overexert herself n tries to make both his girls happy? Thank youu ❤️ (Post-war, canon Au)

Family

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It seems three years was all the time it took for you and your husband to fully embrace your new lives together.

After the war, you were finally able to just focus on the two of you rather than possible impending dooms around every corner. And you couldn’t have been more grateful for the break. Engagement, marriage, conception and childbirth were all things you never imagined you’d have the luxury to experience with Levi, but after finding out you were pregnant with your second child, the reality of it all became oh so sweeter.

But eight months into the second journey, you learn that sometimes you do still need some help from your lover. And Levi is happy to provide.

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Pairing: Husband/Father!Levi x Wife/Mother!Reader

Warnings: Post-war, pregnancy, parenting stress

taglist: @21aurora @deepzombieyouth @braunsbabe

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A/N: Absolutely anon! I hope I did this justice for ya, I don’t have kids of my own so I hope I got this right! Sorry for the wait, work got in the way.

As always if anything written doesn’t fit your preferences, I’ll happily rewrite!

Enjoy~

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“Mama!”

The drawn out cry made you sigh. Not in annoyance. Never, in annoyance. Rather, it was a sigh of your ever growing fatigue. Staggering to your feet, you stood from the couch with a labored breath and turned to face your daughter with a careful smile.

“Yes, Kuchel?” You asked softly. No matter how tired you became, nor how round your belly grew, you’d always have the energy to tend to your daughter’s ever growing list of demands.

Kuchel raced about the living room, giggling happily as she babbled on about something or another that had prompted her to gain your attention. You couldn’t help but wearily smile; just where did she get all this energy from? And where could you find some?

With a hand in your belly to support the weight, you grunted as you crouched down to your knees to catch your daughter as she raced closer to you than the child suspected she had. With a shrill cry that stung your ears, she flopped around haphazardly in your arms once you nabbed her.

“Wanna go see papa!” Kuchel cried out in a mixture of laughter and whining. Heaving a sigh, you prepared yourself to remind her, once again, that her father away still away at work.

“Honey, daddy’s still at the tea shop. He should be back in only an hour!” You cheered her on, hoping your joyous tone would distract her from the fact her perception of time was all but nonexistent.

“An hour?!” she pouted, shooting you a look from under her unruly black curls. Silver eyes pouted up at you from your lap, making you smile at the resemblance that mirrored her father’s.

“I know baby, I know. We just have to be patient, yeah? When daddy gets home, you can greet him at the door. But no jumping, you hear? We can’t have you straining daddy’s leg again.” You reminded her, sternly but still lovingly.

Kuchel pouted in your lap, then hastily stood.

“But…If I can’t climb daddy, why he so tall?”

Her question left you speechless. Oh, the odd question from a child who could only string together simple sentences.

“You can climb daddy when he’s sat down. Otherwise, you’ll tip over his cane and strain his knee. You don’t want daddy to hurt, do you?”

Immediately Kuchel’s face sobered in expression, her eyes wide and plump lips parted.

“No! Not hurt daddy,” she scoffed, so much like the way her father did.

I guess more than physical traits are genetic, you thought with a sigh. Struggling over your very much pregnant belly, you managed to stand yourself back up. Watching your energetic three year old bounce excitedly across the room, and glancing down at your swollen abdomen, you really couldn’t find any room to complain.

“I miss daddy too,” you interrupted her ranting, “But he’ll be home soon enough. Now,”

Walking over to your kitchen, you pulled a knife out of your cutlery draw and picked an apple from a woven basket sat atop the counter.

Re-locking the drawer, (you can’t trust young children to not open any door or cabinet they can reach) you picked up a plate and began to cut.

“How about you enjoy a nice snack before dinner while you wait for daddy, and I’ll take a rest on the couch with you?”

“But you just got off the couch, and it’s daytime!” Kuchel pouted, the pitter patter of her bare feet sounding off the tiled floor as she waddled her way into the kitchen to watch.

“I know honey, I know.” Sighing, your subconsciously placed a hand over your belly, feeling the baby within gently press against your touch.

“Growing a baby makes mommy tired. It takes a lot of energy, even if I’m not moving.”

Kuchel stared on in silence, her bright eyes staring at your enlarged belly deep in thought. After a moment, she shrugged.

“That’s weird. Why did you grow one of it makes you sleepy?”

“Well, both your father and I wanted another baby. You’ll be a big sister, yknow that?” You hummed over your shoulder as you finished peeling the apple and handing her the plate.

“I guess so,” Kuchen mumbled as she bit into an apple slice. Seeing she was satisfied, you slowly made your way over to the couch to lie back down. After a moment, you felt your daughter struggle to climb up onto the furniture to join you. With a sleepy smile, you ruffled her hair and closed your eyes.

“Wanna go outside and play pretend?” Kuchel suddenly asked, disrupting the peaceful silence around you.

Heaving a sigh, you gave her a tired smile over your shoulder.

Please, Levi. Get home soon…

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A single click of the lock on his front door made any tension leave Levi’s shoulders. Finally, he was home.

Since he was a young teenager, he’d always dreamed of the day he could open up his own shop and run a peaceful business. And sure, he very much enjoyed his craft for brewing and steeping various drinks for anyone who stepped foot through door of his small shop.

But at the end of the day, there was nothing he enjoyed more than returning home to his small family. Listening to his daughter’s excited squeals as she tried to climb him like a tree in the threshold, seeing his wife’s radiant, and relieved, smile ever present on her face when they reunited in the safety of their home.

Though he dreaded leaving them for this sole reason, it made coming home every day so much more sweeter.

Heaving a sigh, Levi twisted the door knob open and stepped into their home.

The silence that met him immediately concerned him. Looking around, he saw no trace of his child or lover. Tensing up, he looked for any sign of their whereabouts.

There’s no way in hell Y/N convinced Kuchel to nap. That kid doesn’t sleep.

Shuffling his way further inside, he leaned on his cane to remove his shoes as he peered around corners. Just when he started to let panic take over, a jarring bang sounded from the kitchen.

Limping along as fast as he could, he tried his best to keep the panic from taking over. But the moment he rounded the last corner, all traces of worry faded away. Though slightly miffed, Levi couldn’t help but smirk to himself ever so slightly.

Sat in the middle of the kitchen floor and covered in both dirt and flour sat his child. He watched her tracing patterns in the mess on the floor, babbling to herself for every shape she drew. Levi cleared his through after a moment, trying his hardest to appear stern.

But he never could with his little girl.

Kuchel whipped her head around with a gasp, eyes widening at being caught. But soon enough a shrill giggle bubbled out of her throat and echoed off the walls.

“Daddy!” Kuchel cried out, slipping to her feet to tackle him in a hug. Biting back a grimace, Levi put an arm around her shoulder and peered down at her.

“What are you doing, Kuchel?” He asked in an even tone.

“Playing!” She replied innocently, blinking white powder from her eyelashes. Biting back a sigh, Levi picked her up and positioned her on his hip.

“Where’s mommy?” He asked her, brushed some dirt from her nose.

“Sleeping, again,” his daughter pouted, playing with the buttons in his coat.

“You probably tired her out, brat. Come on, we’ll get you a bath then clean this mess up.” Levi mused, unable to keep up his ‘stern father’ facade. Setting her back down he let her tug at his hand as she led the way to the bathroom, babbling and giggling all the way. They passed through the living room, seeing you slumped on the couch.

Ruffled hair, mismatched clothes, large belly poking out from under your tee shirt, lips parted and slightly chapped; Levi could only chuckle to himself as he continued on through the room.

“You know, mommy does a lot for you. For us,” Levi spoke quietly to his daughter.

“And look how pretty she looks while doing it.”

“Prettyyy,” Kuchel whispered in agreement, smiling up towards her father.

With an approving nod, they continued on.

“Now go on, get. Grab a change of clothes while I start the bath.”

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Hearing muffled giggles and low voices, you squinted your eyes open in confusion. It wasn’t but five minuets ago your daughter was bouncing on your legs, begging to go outside and play, wasn’t it? Yet looking out the window settled into the far wall you saw the last rays of the sun poking through emerald colored leaves from your front yard. Groaning, you sat yourself up and instinctively checked your belly with a soft touch. Feeling the baby stir ever so slightly, you smiled in relief.

Another loud giggle interrupted your train of thought, bringing you back to the present. Furrowing your brows, you could only imagine what Kuchel had found to occupy herself with while waiting on you to awaken and for Levi to return.

Levi…

Staggering through the living room, you peered into the kitchen to see just what the young girl was up to.

Stood in the center of the room was your daughter; a white cloth tied loosely around the bottom half of her face and a broom in her tiny hand. In front of her stood Levi; a cloth to match her’s adorning his face as he held a dust pan.

“Come on brat, it’s not that hard. I hold the pan, you brush the dirt and flour into the pan. We’ve been over this.”

“This isn’t play!” Kuchel whined, stomping her tiny foot.

“Sure it is. We’re playing cleaning; it’s the best game.”

“No it’s not!”

An unbidden chuckle escaped you, but the hand covering your mouth did nothing to muffle the noise. Both heads of raven hair shot up to stare at you in surprise as they let their cleaning supplies fall to their sides.

“Mommy!”

“Babe?”

Not knowing who to focus on first, you decided on both at the same time. Staggering forward, you ruffled Kuchel’s hair as you placed a soft kiss on Levi’s cheek.

His eyes softened significantly as he draped an arm over your shoulders and pulled you into his chest. Holding him tightly, you draped one of your arms over his shoulder while the other rested on Kuchel’s head. Giving them a playful glare, you looked over the half cleaned mess on the floor.

“Now just what is all this?” You questioned in mock demand. Neither of the two would meet your eye for a moment as you looked them over. Grunting something incoherent under his breath, Levi stopped down to pick up your daughter and hold her against the both of you.

“We’re playing cleaning,” Levi explained quickly, much to Kuchel’s dismay.

“No! It’s not play, it’s chores. Daddy tricked me!”

“I wouldn’t have had to if you hadn’t made this mess in the first place.” Levi scoffed, shooting her a betrayed look.

“But I want to play outside,” Kuchel pouted. Smiling softly to yourself, you glanced up at Levi with a raised brow.

“Honey, would you mind playing with Kuchel outside for a little bit? The mess can wait; I’m exhausted and she hasn’t slowed down once today.”

Thought you thought he might pause and think up a protest, Levi didn’t. With a soft peck to your lips, his eyes lit up with a smile he so seldomly showed.

“Of course darling. Go back to resting. Kuchel and I will be out in the yard if you need anything.”

Giving him a grateful smile, you stepped back to let Kuchel fall to her feet with an excited giggle.

As she raced to put on her shoes, Levi took a step closer to you and placed a careful hand onto your belly. You both chuckled upon feeling a tiny kick against his palm.

“Missed you,” Levi whispered, leaning in to capture your lips in a longer kiss. After a passionate moment, you broke away and smiled thankfully up at him.

“I missed you too. Come join me once you’ve tired out Kuchel?”

“Give me ten minuets,” Levi mumbled against your lips before pulling back with a small smirk, seemingly already having forgotten about the messy kitchen.

As you watched them exit the house, you couldn’t help but to chuckle to yourself where you stood leaning against the wall.

Lord, what had you done to deserve them?

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 2 months

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i know your already working on my series but just hear me out okay. hear me out. crazy x crazy trope but with ethan and reader puts bratty cocky ethan in his place. "not so confident now are you, you little bitch? or are you that drunk off my pussy you can barely think?" while he just pouts and glares at her but is quite literally unable to speak and can only whine and whimper for her. double points if she's ghostface with the baileys, taking revenge because of lets say she was either ambers ex or younger sister and is PISSED at tara for taking her girlfriend/older sister away. (TRIPLE THE POINTS if she knew ethan, quinn and richie since childhood too) sorry its thot hrs and i wanna dom him

I hope you like this! I was determined to finish it tonight. I love a good psychotic moment💕

Savages - Ghostface!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You and your childhood best friend both lost someone from what happened in Woodsboro at the hands of the Carpenter Sisters. You start to plot with him and his family to get revenge, but he's being a little brat after his first kill.

Contains: 3.2k words, Sub!Ethan, Dom/Psycho!Reader, Oral - m and f recieving, Face sitting/riding, p in v, unprotected sex, mentions of death and violence/blood. (If I missed anything, please let me know. My brain has tapped out for the night haha)

A/N: I hope y'all like it:) I love sub Ethan and a good psycho!reader moment.

Ethan knew he loved you, but the second you put on the Ghostface robe and mask, he fell even harder. It’s hard to believe that the two of you made it to this point. He was a sweet kid, and you were always with his family growing up, until the day your parents moved you to Woodsboro. You tried to remain friends with him, until you got a girlfriend. You weren’t anything more than best friends at that point, but he’d message you like a controlling boyfriend. He professed his feelings, but it was too late. You’d already found someone in your new town. Someone you could experience a relationship with.

He was devastated when you rejected him, and when he wouldn’t let it go, you eventually had to block him. Amber was pretty much the exact opposite. She even asked you about opening the relationship up to other people, just because she wanted you to experience other things. She wasn’t possessive like Ethan, but she never wanted to just let you go.

When Richie showed up to the hospital with Sam after Tara was attacked, he recognized you immediately. He pretended he didn’t, though, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he wasn’t originally from the area where he met Sam. You finally pulled him to the side one day and talked to him, and he pleaded with you to not tell anyone that you already knew him. That was the moment that you knew he had something to do with what was happening.

You didn’t suspect Amber, though, until the day of the party. You were upstairs in her room when she pulled out a knife.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she said, plunging the knife into your abdomen.

“What the fuck? It’s you?” you sobbed, dropping to your knees as you noticed the blood starting to drip onto her carpet.

“I can’t have you on the suspect list. You trust me, don’t you?” she asked. You hesitated before nodding, “I didn’t stab you anywhere that will cause a lot of damage, okay? I’m going to call 911, and by the time they get here, Richie and I will be done, and you’ll be saved.”

“I feel really dizzy,” you cried out, Amber’s hand wrapping around your mouth so you couldn’t make anymore noise to draw attention to yourself.

“You’re going to pass out soon. You’re losing a lot of blood,” she said, before the rest of her words sounded muffled, your vision completely fading.

She was right, you were saved. You woke up in your hospital bed the next day, and learned that Amber and Richie didn’t survive. You were devastated, but you knew the one person you could talk to that would understand your pain.

You unblocked Ethan’s number and called him. You could hear the tears in his voice as he answered. When he found out that you’d been a part of everything, he was mad at first, screaming at you until his voice was raw. He eventually heard you out, mainly because he had no voice to speak, and learned that you had nothing to do with what happened to Richie. The two of you decided that the Carpenter sisters needed to pay for taking away your loved ones.

You fake-smiled when Sam and Tara walked into your hospital room a little later in the day.

“Someone’s doing better,” Sam said, pushing Tara up beside you before taking a seat at the foot of your hospital bed.

“Yeah, I’m on a lot of good drugs,” you laughed, as Sam and Tara exchanged their glances. “What?” you asked, feeling like there was something they knew and you didn’t.

“Richie and Amber were, uh…” Tara said, looking over to her sister for help.

“They were what?” you asked, turning your attention to Sam as well.

“Your girlfriend and my boyfriend were together,” she said, a stoic look on her face. “We were both getting cheated on by psychos.”

You were livid that Sam was talking about her like that, but you felt a little hurt. You and Amber always promised that if you were going to see other people in your relationship, you’d let the other person know. A few tears started to slip out as Tara offered you the box of tissues on the bedside table.

“Thanks,” you said, grabbing a couple out of the box before Tara sat it back down. “How do you guys feel about getting the fuck out of here? Like, once Tara and I graduate?”

“What did you have in mind?” Sam asked, thinking that it might not be the worst idea.

“I think we should go to New York. I grew up there, and I really think you guys would like it,” you smiled, as Tara nodded.

“Fuck it, let’s start looking into schools. After you get out of here, of course.”

You called Ethan, squealing in excitement when you and all your friends got their acceptance letters. That’s when the plan was officially set into motion, with the help of Quinn and his dad. Having a detective on your side of things was going to heavily benefit the outcome of everything, and you couldn’t wait to make the people that took Amber from you pay for what they’d done.

Once you started school, you were ‘introduced’ to Ethan. No one could know that the two of you already knew each other in attempts to not ruin the plan before you got to do any damage. Fortunately for the two of you, when you immediately hit it off and seemed to have your own little inside jokes, they chalked it up to young love.

You weren’t official with Ethan for a while, until your “Friends’” constant nagging about it convinced you to give him the chance he wanted. Once you found out that poor boy was a virgin, and you helped him out with that, he was wrapped around your finger. He worshipped the ground you walked on and would do anything you asked him to. The only thing he hated was when you brought up Amber. He hated that she got you first.

The night Ghostface “killed” Quinn and actually killed Anika, you were waiting in the alley on the opposite side of the building for your boyfriend to finish what he went in there to do. You were both supposed to be in econ, but you were his alibi. They’d never suspect you, so they could never suspect Ethan if you said you were with him in class.

He was stripping off the robe as he bolted down the fire escape. He tossed it down to you, and you quickly put it in your backpack as he joined you to walk in a normal pace towards the alley exit at the back of the building.

“How was it?” you asked, smiling at him.

“God, baby. It was the biggest rush. I wish you could’ve been in there with me,” he said, pulling you into a kiss once you made it onto the sidewalk.

“I’m so proud of you. You’re doing such a good job for me,” you praised, ruffling your fingers in his hair a little as he started to pull away. “I can’t wait to make the others pay for what they did to Amber.”

He huffed, his irritation at the mention of her name obvious as you cocked your eyebrow at him. “Do you have a problem?”

“Yeah, I do. I was so excited about what just happened, but then you mention your stupid fucking ex. I feel like she’s all you care about,” he said, his angry tone and harsh remarks about Amber pissing you off. “We’re in this together, remember? Me and you?”

“Yeah, and your dad, and Quinn.”

He started to walk away from you, heading towards his dorm. You followed him, trying to keep up with his pace.

“Quit acting like such a brat,” you said, a few feet behind him on the otherwise empty sidewalk.

“Quit being such a bitch,” he muttered, but the second those words left his mouth, he knew he was in trouble. You quickened your pace, slamming him against the brick wall the second you made it to him.

“What did you call me?” you asked, his eyes going wide at the lust in your tone. He stayed silent, just watching you. “Huh, nothing to say now?” you scoffed, “You know I’m in charge here, baby.”

You pulled away, smiling sweetly at him as you took his hand in yours.

The walk back to the dorm was silent because Ethan knew what he was in for. He was excited, but also nervous. The few scenarios where he did decide to get mouthy with you ended in him being edged to the point of tears, begging you to finally let him cum. He was hard at the thought, but he was always scared you’d just walk away and not let him get the release he needed.

Once you made it inside the dorm he shared with Chad, you knew you had plenty of time to be alone with him. Chad probably wasn’t coming back for the night, but you knew you’d have to get back home at some point.

“Take your clothes off,” you said to Ethan, the stern tone in your voice making him comply. You watched him shed each article of clothing and smirked when you saw the tent in his boxers once he removed his jeans. “Aww, baby. Did you get hard from killing someone? Or was it me pushing you against the wall earlier?” you cooed, as he slid his boxers down, his cock standing at attention in from of you.

“It’s because of you,” he said, his arms resting at his sides as he waited for you to tell him what to do next.

“That was the right answer,” you smiled, “Lay back on the bed.”

He did what you said, watching you intently. You walked over to him, and started to stroke his cock that was resting against his tummy.

“Fuck,” he groaned, before you leaned down and took him in your mouth. He thought you were going to take it easy on him tonight, until you pulled your head away after a minute, his cock drenched in your spit. “Babe,” he whined out.

You rolled your eyes at his neediness. “I want you to grab your cock and start stroking, baby.”

He did what you said, your saliva making his hand glide up and down with ease. After a few minutes, he started to whine.

“This doesn’t feel as good as when you do it,” he whimpered, the tip of his cock turning red as he tried to get himself to cum.

“Well, that’s too bad, baby. What was it that you called me?” you fake-pondered, your pointer finger going in between your teeth, “Oh that’s right. I’m a bitch.”

“I didn’t mean it,” he said, his eyes pleading for you to touch him again. You noticed his hand was no longer moving.

“Did I say you could stop?” you questioned, as his hand movements started back up. “Good boy.” He whined at your words, his hand moving faster. “Do you want me to keep praising you, baby?”

He nodded his head as he kept going.

“You did such a good job tonight. You know how wet you made me when you killed her?” you said, your sadistic side on full display. “I’m so proud of you for doing whatever I ask you to.”

You noticed he was starting to get close, his hand moving even faster and his heaving chest, along with his whimpers making it obvious. Just as he was about to cum, you stopped him.

“Don’t you fucking cum,” you scolded, his hand coming to a stop as he started to whine even more from the lost orgasm.

“I needed it so bad,” he begged, as you shook your head.

“I don’t know if you deserve to cum. Maybe if you didn’t feel the need to call me names…” you trailed off, as he started to get really frustrated.

“I wouldn’t have called you that if you wouldn’t have brought her up,” he snapped, your eyes getting dark at his words.

“Hmm, I think someone’s a little insecure. Are you worried that she fucked me better than you do?” you questioned, “Because I don’t know what other reason you have to be jealous of someone that’s dead.”

“Stop talking about her,” he said, growing furious at the thought of you having sex with someone else.

“You are just too cute,” you said, slipping your shirt over your head. “I can’t believe that you think you’re going to have the upper hand in this, ya know? Like you really think that I’m going to stop talking about her. I loved her, Ethan.”

His eyes stayed on you as you continued to strip out of your clothes,

“What? Cat got your tongue, baby? You have nothing to say?” you asked, sliding your panties down. “Even if you did, I know the perfect way to shut you up.”

You crawled up on the bed, your knees right beside his head as you swung your leg over to straddle his face.

“You better make me cum, or you don’t get to cum. Got it?” you asked, as he nodded before you lowered yourself.

His tongue gently moved against your clit at first. He knew just how you liked it, so he wanted to pace himself. Once he started to lick a little faster, your hands went down to his curls as you really started to ride his face.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” you moaned out, his hands going to your hips as he helped you move against his mouth.

You whimpered when his tongue dipped inside you, the muscle massaging your walls as he ate you out. Once he could tell you were getting close, he lifted your hips a little to focus on your clit again. The second he sucked it into his mouth, you started to feel your orgasm building. You gripped the headboard to keep yourself stable, your hands and legs starting to shake.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you whined out, one hand staying on the headboard as your other went back to his hair. You were tugging at it as that euphoric feeling hit, his groaning from your pulling making the orgasm more intense. He kept your hips moving until you rode out your high, your body getting a little tired from the release.

You got off his face as he tried to catch his breath. He was anticipating what you’d do next, because he made you cum, and he was hoping you’d keep up your end of the deal. You didn’t say anything as you straddled his waist and lined his cock leaking precum with your entrance. He groaned out when you sank down, the feeling making his brain turn to mush.

You started slowly; your hands placed on his chest as you took your time. He was desperate for more, but you weren’t going to give in that easily.

“You aren’t so cocky now, are you? You little bitch.” You put extra emphasis on that word because that’s what he called you, and he needed to know his place. He glared at you as you continued to take your time with him.

Whimpers flooded out of his mouth when you started to bounce on him, his cock almost completely out of you before you sank back down onto him. His hands went to your hips to help you keep your pace feeling like he was finally getting somewhere. He started to babble, his words sounding like ‘I fucking love your pussy’. You smirked at his current state.

“Look at you, so drunk off my pussy that you can’t even talk,” you said, your breathing getting heavy as the tip of his cock kept hitting your g-spot. “Are you okay, sweet boy?”

He started to whimper again, his orgasm quickly approaching. You decided to let him cum, as you leaned forward, your chest almost pressed against his. He gripped your hips harder as he started to thrust up into you, your hips rolling back to meet each one.

Your orgasm was right on the edge, your walls starting to flutter a little. He was trying so hard to get you through another one before he came.

“Fuck, baby. I’m cumming,” you moaned out, as his whines got even louder. Your walls spasmed around him, making his breath hitch in his throat.

The skin slapping and his sounds were bouncing around the room as he kept pounding into you.

“Can I please cum?” he begged, praying that you’d say yes.

You were proud of him for using his words that he hadn’t been able to form. “Yes, baby.”

He whimpered out as his hot cum painted your walls, his grip on your hips getting shaky as he slowed your movements.

“Holy fuck,” he said, his hands rubbing against your back as his cock stayed inside of you.

You listened to his heartbeat as you got out of your dominating headspace, starting to feel a little bad.

“I’m sorry I talk about her so much. I really loved her,” you mumbled against his chest.

“I guess I just feel like I’m always coming in second place to her,” he sighed, sadness in his voice.

“You aren’t, though. I think we would’ve ended up together one way or another,” you laughed a little as he kissed the top of your head.

“After we’re done with all of this, can we just focus on us?” he asked, as you nodded against him.

You laid there for a few more minutes, before remembering that you needed to head back to the apartment.

“I have to go, baby,” you said, sitting up. He groaned as you slid him out of you.

“Do you have to?” he asked, wanting nothing more than for you to stay in his bed with him a little longer.

“If we want this plan to work, then yes,” you said, noticing his cum dripping down your inner thighs as you tried to grab your clothes off the floor. “You came a lot, fuck.”

You grabbed some tissues and wiped it from your thighs before you started to put your clothes back on. He started to laugh a little as you glanced over to him. “What?”

“My cum is going to keep dripping out of you,” he said, as you rolled your eyes.

“Lucky for you, I think it’s hot. It’s a nice little reminder of how good I made you feel,” you said with a smile. “I love you, baby,” you said, kissing him before grabbing your purse and rushing out of the room.

“I love you, too.”

You’d almost made it to the apartment when you noticed all the flashing lights up ahead and could see Mindy and Chad sitting on the sidewalk.

“What’s going on?” you asked, looking around to see the black tarp covering a body in the alley.

“Anika,” was all that Tara could say, before Sam spoke up, “And Quinn. Our apartment is a crime scene right now.”

“Oh my god,” you said, turning on your crocodile tears as you looked over to Mindy. “I’m so sorry.”

“Was Ethan in class tonight?” she asked coldly, her question catching you off guard.

“Yeah, he was sitting beside me the whole time. Then we went back to his dorm for a little bit before I came home,” you lied, as she started to shake her head.

“None of this makes any fucking sense.”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #scream #smut #Ghostface!Ethan Landry

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slavicviking · 1 year

Text

In the end, Steve doesn’t go to prom.

He debates on it for a good amount of time, even makes a little mental pros and cons list that he childishly hopes Nancy would have been proud of. Dustin is persistent that Steve goes, there is no other possibility in his mind, and Steve doesn’t want to, in any sense, let Dustin down, let him know how lonely he actually feels. Would the spell break? Would Dustin see through him, see how unlovable he truly is?

So he doesn’t go. But he also lies to Dustin, to Nancy, to Jonathan. He doesn’t really know why, it just slips out - a little lie, and then it grows, and snowballs, and it’s suddenly too late. Shame and guilt gnaws at him whenever it’s mentioned but his pride wins every time.

Robin is the first and only person to know. And that’s fine. He firmly believes that even if he tried to lie to her, she’d know.

Then Vecna happens and Eddie Munson slam-dunks his way into Steve’s life, and Steve, surprisingly, doesn’t mind at all, is kind of grateful actually. Eddie’s murder charges are thankfully dropped with the help of the government and though the town of Hawkins is wary of the ‘Munson kid’, he is well on his way to graduate this year. And with graduation comes all the buzz and excitement associated with prom - Eddie himself seems passive at best but Robin’s well-infected.

They’re smoking on the roof of Eddie’s van (‘it has the world's best view of the stars, Harrington, trust me’), just the two of them, and it’s nice, too nice, in fact, and so Steve figures something has to give. And it does.

“Who did you go to prom with, Harrington?” Eddie asks with a puff of smoke, handing him the cigarette, feigned nonchalance in tow. They’ve been trying to cut down on smoking on Robin’s behalf. So far it hasn’t been going well. There is no malice in his tone, none that Steve can detect anyway, but he still feels himself tense up.

He could lie, could tell him anything he wants to, no one’s going to fact-check him but- “No one. I didn’t go.”

If Eddie’s surprised, nothing betrays him. “Would you like to?”

His skin feels itchy and warm but in a pleasant way, the way it has been the past few weeks while he and Eddie seemed to be dancing closer and closer around something neither was ready to name just yet.

“No,” he settles on, stomach buzzing when Eddie grins up at him.

“Me neither,” he confirms what Steve already suspected. Eddie, though, sits up suddenly, rolling the rest of the cigarette between his fingertips. “On a totally unrelated note, you free next Friday?”

“Um, I think so?”

Eddie’s face does something weird, then, with his bottom lip caught between his teeth and a panicked snort, before it settles on a soft but nervous grin. “Ditch prom with me, Stevie?”

And, well, how could he say no to that.

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things

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ask-whitepearl-and-steven · 10 months

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Something I find quite concerning...

is the amount of people who think Seaglass is ‘defective’ based on....very normal (in universe) features she has.

Ever since I’ve introduced her, I’ve repeatedly gotten comments on my posts and in my inbox that read to the effect of:

“CG is really small. Is she defective?” “CG only has one eye. Is she off color?”

and even

“Hey, I noticed that she has a tooth gap, does that mean something is wrong with her?”

And I always find this really confusing, because all of the ‘evidence’ listed for the theory that she’s somehow ‘wrong’ is just.... things that make her unique! But none of them are bad.

We have SEEN small gems in the show.

We have SEEN gems with only one eye in the show.

And we have SEEN gems with tooth gaps!

...a feature which, by the way, is merely a small variation of how our mouth bones grow together, and is in no way indicative of there being something ‘wrong’ with you.

To top it all off........ Seaglass is a gem I invented! There is no canonical shape for a Seaglass type gem in the show. Indeed, not really even a standard Glass gem exists!

If I had based her on some existing type of gem and changed up her features, I could understand people wondering about WHY those were unique.

But to look at a gem that has no prior design and to immediately suspect that there MUST be something ‘defective’ about her based on absolutely arbitrary features.................. is a little odd, I must admit.

Indeed, it smells an awful lot like Homeworld thinking - ANY variation must immediately be scrutinized for ‘wrongness’ and set upon with the suspicion dedicated to something harmful.

And if this was only about a cartoon, I’d probably shrug it off.

But the reality is..... this is some top-tier level middle school mentality.

Scrutinizing people for ‘flaws’ first and asking questions second is an extremely unfair way to interact with others.

And I want you guys (especially the younger peeps reading my comic) to understand that if this was YOUR kneejerk reaction to Seaglass......maybe that’s not the healthiest thing?

Why did you assume that something unique automatically meant ‘defective’? Why did you theorize that she came out ‘wrong’ simply because she was a little different from the rest of the cast? (And not even extremely so.) And most importantly:

Have you ever done this to a real human being?

Anyway, the point is - people are sometimes born different. That doesn’t necessarily mean they are ‘defective‘. Try not to assume that brokenness is the ONLY alternative to total assimilation.

And let her sleep.

#chekhov worries about the next generation #im not going to call anyone out by name #but a lot of these comments came from readers who I KNOW are young kids #so i really wanted to try to address it #as for whether seaglass is unique among others of her type of gem or not #will be a question i never really intend to answer #because it does not fuckin matter #she is baby #her family loves her #the end

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blindbeta · 2 months

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Hello! I have two questions, so I'll send two asks in case you want to answer them separately. First, a lot of your posts suggest writing multiple blind characters into your story to help avoid tokenism. However, when I try to write multiple blind characters, they always stand out or feel shoehorned in. Do you have any advice for writing multiple blind characters more "casually" so they don't feel as out of place?

Examples of How to Write Multiple Blind Characters Using The Owl House

Hello. Thank you for your questions! I actually started on this months ago and returned to it answering this question here.

I suspect this is what stops many writers, although they aren’t aware of it. This feeling of forcing representation is the result of society’s ableism and it can be difficult to recognize or deal with.

It might help to think about the reverse- isn’t it strange that so many characters in books and shows are abled? Isn’t it strange that so many disabled characters have no community?

When you write multiple blind characters, you are giving your blind character a community.

Another thing that might help is to show different characters having different conditions and different ways of dealing with their blindness. This is a technique I use all the time. You can even list all the blind characters and their characteristics so you can consider them all at once. For fun, we’ll use The Owl House. I feel that using all-ages examples might help writers feel comfortable engaging with the material.

The following will contain discussions of external and internalized ableism. It will also contain heavy spoilers for The Owl House up to the show’s finale.

Here is an example I came up with:

Main character, Luz, has a low vision in both eyes. She uses a cane for nighttime, mostly, but she feels like more of an outcast when she uses it at school, compared to the enthusiasm with which she used it and showed it to her classmates when she was a child. She stopped using a cane before entering high school. She packs it for camp just in case and uses it all the time on The Boiling Isles. There, she feels more comfortable using it every day. She is eventually able to use her cane and other assistive devices, whether magical or non-magical, whenever she needs to. Growing up, she struggled in school due to neurodivergence and not always getting her accommodations or maybe even struggling to ask for accommodations. She is happy to find that Eda and Hexside are able to accommodate her without making her feel othered. Although she has felt rejected in the past, she is able to fully embrace her blindness once more, celebrating a part of her in a way she was able to as a child. Also, she has several copies of The Good Witch Azura books in regular print, large print, and audiobook forms.

Eda, her mentor, had total enucleation in one eye and wears a prosthetic. How did she lose her eye? She doesn’t remember, now stop bugging her. Due to macular degeneration, her vision isn’t so good in the other eye and is decreasing over time. She doesn’t use a cane after struggling against her mother in childhood. She can use her Palisman or King as guides if she needs help. (King appointed himself her unofficial guide demon.) Her visually impaired partner, Raine, has gently and jokingly encouraged her to do what helps, including using assistive devices. After they started dating again, Eda feels comfortable using Raine as a guide, which also gives her an excuse to cozy up to them. Eda eventually comes to terms with her blindness much like her chronic illness. When she and Raine go on walks, she jokingly makes them carry things, stating if they want her to use a guide demon or a cane so bad, they can lend her a hand considering she only has one. She switches between the cane and guide depending on what suits her that day. Raine also supports her in her times of vulnerability. She can also have her phone or use spells to read, but reading is for nerds so she would rather have someone else read to her, such as her sister, Luz, Raine, or King.

Principal Bump is blind with residual vision and uses a guide Paliman to help him navigate and magnify things if he needs it. When he had Eda as a student, he was excited to help a student with similar experiences, but he quickly learned she was a troublemaker.

Willow is totally blind and uses a fluffy guide demon. She also has a cane decorated with flowering vines, which she enjoys using because she can have interesting tactile feedback. She was born blind and doesn’t struggle with her blindness beyond the occasional frustration with ableism or lack of accessibility. Her dads are very supportive and helpful. They sent her to Hexside hoping having a blind principal would assure she would get accommodations. She enjoys using magic with physical and textural elements, which is why she tried the magical school tracks she chose.

Gus is also blind with a bit of remaining vision. He enjoys looking at colors and lights. Gus chose to focus on illusions because they make interesting shapes and colors, providing his brain with a lot of sweet, sweet stimulation. Gus also enjoys that a track that is very visual is something he can excel at. He met Willow when complimenting her on how pretty her plants looked, describing to her what looked like a colorful blossom on a vine. He uses a cane to navigate, finding it more helpful for stairs and general independence even if canes aren’t quite as popular on the Boiling Isles as magically assisted options such as Palismans and guide demons. He also enjoys using something more similar to what humans use, as he is very interested in humans. He feels very comfortable with his blindness, finding a similar outlook in his friend Willow. Together, the two feel more understood. Willow and Gus pass Braille notes to each other in class. Gus prefers to have his spelled books or illusions read to him, though.

Amity deals with internalized ableism stemming from a need to be perfect, as well as many terrible implications from her parents that she doesn’t let on hurt her. She concentrates on not letting her disability stop her, as that’s what a Blight does. She has low vision, similar to Luz, and progressive vision loss. Unlike the other characters, she does not have much positive support. Principal Bump tries to encourage her to use the many aids and accommodations provided by the school, surprised that she knows the Boiling Isles equivalent of Braille, but only because her parents thought it would give their child an edge and because she attended the same early childhood classes as Willow. Amity politely rejects his help and goes on the be the top student just to prove a point to everyone (a.k.a her parents). She grows up being friends with other kids who say ableist things, leading to Amity feeling even more pressured to rely on her remaining vision. Eventually, her relationships with Luz and Willow help her to accept herself. She is able to act more authentically. This includes confronting her former friends, apologizing to the people she bullied, and attempting to use a cane at school. She is surprised to find that nothing really changes and a few people, including her siblings, even comment on her cane use positively. Willow also shows her how to get her phone to read to her, as well as use the spelled books you can buy that read out loud, which helps reduce eye strain. The similarities between her and Luz helps to strengthen their bond, but otherwise their relationship is unchanged from canon. Amity also has another troublesome barrier to asking Luz to Grom, such as how to make the note accessible. She ends up going with large print and high contrast ink. If she can read it, she knows Luz will be able to.

Hunter has an inherited retinal disorder, such as LCA or Stargardt disease. All of his predecessors have had a similar experience and Hunter takes pride in being part of that line. Each Golden Guard has decreased vision compared to the last, it seems. Hunter views his blindness as a part of him. His blindness allows him to adapt in ways others may not have a chance to explore. He becomes aware of advantages he has over the many sighted people he works with. He is known for his talent, adaptability, and resourcefulness. Hunter struggles with photophobia, which his mask helps with. For navigation, he has a cane, as well as his staff, which he prefers to adapt for navigating. It is about chest height and acts similarly to a WeWalk cane. He can use it to teleport and use magic, but it is mostly for identification and navigating if needed. Eventually, he considers switching to a guide demon like Willow’s, which can also offer companionship along with his new Palisman. Hunter can read the Boiling Isles equivalent of Braille, which he uses for labeling, personal note-keeping, and reading when his eyes are tired. He can keep working longer this way, although he does occasionally read or write for fun if he has a spare few minutes. Hunter also makes tactile maps.

There we go. I provided examples of several blind characters in the same place. Many of them know each other and maybe even meet because of their blindness. They all have different types of blindness and different experiences with their blindness, even when compared to characters who are on similar places on the blindness spectrum. I explored how they navigate, how they view their blindness, and ways in which they relate to others. Some struggle with internalized ableism, but not all of them. They have their own arcs related to their blindness, although they have the same arcs and interests as in canon.

Rather than seeing multiple blind characters as an obstacle, view it as an opportunity for characterization. For example, Amity’s experience with ableism is heavily rooted in how she was raised, in how her parents treated her blindness as a defect or something to be ignored. Meanwhile, Luz’s experience with ableism originated in childhood rejection. Compared to them, Willow, Gus, Principle Bump, and Hunter are all thriving. Even Eda is mostly cool with everything, only having a confusing and uncertain relationship with mobility aids. Additionally, Luz is able to let go of and unlearn her internalized ableism as soon as she finds people who accept her. Amity, in comparison, takes much longer to accept herself.

I know that some writers who aren’t blind may feel unequipped to write internalized ableism. It isn’t necessary, but instead something I thought fit Amity’s original character arc. Internalized ableism can be a lot more subtle than this or not feature in your story at all. Luz and Eda might struggle with this as well, but to a lesser degree. It would also be similar to their arcs in canon.

Here are additional character breakdowns because I thought they were fun:

Who uses Braille?

Willow, Hunter, and to some extent, Gus

Braille literacy is declining, so not everyone knows it in this A.U, which is similar to real life. However, I prefer to have at least some of my characters use Braille to push back against that.

Who uses audio to read, primarily or some of the time?

Gus, Amity, Luz, Eda

Who uses regular or large print?

Luz, Amity, Principal Bump

Who uses magnification?

Principal Bump and probably Luz in childhood

Who uses a cane?

Luz, Amity, Hunter, Willow, Eda

However, Luz, Amity, and Eda all struggled to get there to some degree. In real life, few blind people actually use canes despite possibly benefiting from them.

Who uses an animal guide?

Eda, Willow, and, later, Hunter

On the Boiling Isles, creatures participate in training schools and are matched with potential handlers. They are mostly given to adults, although some schools allow kids to apply, such as those in their upper teens. I have a post on guide animals here.

Who has some residual vision?

Luz, Eda, Bump, Gus, Amity, Hunter

Who is totally blind?

Willow

In real life, 85 to 90% of people who are blind have some residual vision, depending on what source you draw from. Most of the cast can still see something, even if only colors, light, and shadow.

I hope this helps. This is my first time sharing something like this. Readers, feel free to use this however you like, for stories or fan art.

-BlindBeta

#blind characters #writing blind characters #the owl house #writing more than one blind character #blind #ableism #disability #ask #scheduled post

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