#When there's way too many obvious suspects | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

petermorwood · 27 days

Text

More on pre-electricity lighting.

Interesting to see this one pop up again after nearly two years - courtesy of @dduane, too! :->

*****

After experiencing a couple more storm-related power cuts since my original post, as well as a couple of after-dark garden BBQs, I've come to the conclusion that C.J. Cherryh puts far too much emphasis on "how dark things were pre-electric light".

For one thing eyes adjust, dilating in dim light to gather whatever illumination is available. Okay, if there's none, there's none - but if there's some, human eyes can make use of it, some better or just faster than others. They're the ones with "good night vision".

Think, for instance, of how little you can see of your unlit bedroom just after you've turned off the lights, and how much more of it you can see if you wake up a couple of hours later.

There's also that business of feeling your way around, risking breaking your neck etc. People get used to their surroundings and, after a while, can feel their way around a familiar location even in total darkness with a fair amount of confidence.

Problems arise when Things Aren't Where They Should Be (or when New Things Arrive) and is when most trips, stumbles, hacked shins and stubbed toes happen, but usually - Lego bricks and upturned UK plugs aside - non-light domestic navigation is incident-free.

*****

Here are a couple of pics from one of those BBQs: one candle and a firepit early on, then the candle, firepit and an oil lamp much later, all much more obvious than DD's iPad screen.

Though I remain surprised at how well my phonecam was handling this low light, my own unassisted eyes were doing far better. For instance, that area between the table and the firepit wasn't such an impenetrable pool of darkness as it appears in the photo.

I see (hah!) no reason why those same Accustomed Eyes would have any more difficulty with candles or oil lamps as interior lighting, even without the mirrors or reflectors in my previous post.

With those, and with white interior walls, things would be even brighter. There's a reason why so many reconstructed period buildings in Folk Museums etc. are (authentically) whitewashed not just outside but inside as well. It was cheap, had disinfectant qualities, and was a reflective surface. Win, win and win.

*****

All right, there were no switches to turn on a light. But there was no need for what C.J. describes as stumbling about to reach the fire, because there were tinderboxes and, for many centuries before them, flint and steel. Since "firesteels" have been heraldic charges since the 1100s, the actual tool must have been in use for even longer.

Tinderboxes were fire-starter sets with flint, steel and "tinder" all packed into (surprise!) a box. The tinder was easily lit ignition material, often "charcloth", fabric baked in an airtight jar or tin which would now start to glow just from a spark.

They're mentioned in both "The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings". Oddly enough, "Hobbit" mentions matches in a couple of places, but I suspect that's a carry-over from when it was just a children's story, not part of the main Legendarium.

Tinderboxes could be simple, just a basic flint-and-steel kit with some tinder for the sparks to fall on...

...or elaborate like this one, with a fancy striker, charcloth, kindling material and even wooden "spills" (long splinters) to transfer flame to a candle or the kindling...

This tinderbox even doubles as a candlestick, complete with a snuffer which would have been inside along with everything else.

Here's a close-up of the striker box with its inner and outer lids open:

What looks like a short pencil with an eraser is actually the striker. A bit of tinder or charcloth would have been pulled through that small hole in the outer lid, which was then closed.

There was a rough steel surface on the lid, and the striker was scraped along it, like so:

This was done for a TV show or film, so the tinder was probably made more flammable with, possibly, lighter fuel. That would be thoroughly appropriate, since a Zippo or similar lighter works on exactly the same principle.

A real-life version of any tinderbox would usually just produce glowing embers needing blown on to make a flame, which is shown sometimes in movies - especially as a will-it-light-or-won't-it? tension build - but is usually a bit slow and non-visual for screen work.

*****

There were even flintlock tinderboxes which worked with the same mechanism as those on firearms. Here's a pocket version:

Here are a couple of bedside versions, once again complete with a candlestick:

And here are three (for home defence?) with a spotlight candle lantern on one side and a double-trigger pistol on the other.

Pull one trigger to light the candle, pull the other trigger to fire the gun.

What could possibly go wrong? :-P

*****

Those pistol lanterns, magnified by lenses, weren't just to let their owner see what they were shooting at: they would also have dazzled whatever miscreant was sneaking around in the dark, irises dilated to make best use of available glimmer.

Swordsmen both good and bad knew this trick too, and various fight manuals taught how to manage a thumb-shuttered lamp encountered suddenly in a dark alley.

There's a sword-and-lantern combat in the 1973 "Three Musketeers" between Michael York (D'Artagnan) and Christopher Lee (Rochefort), which was a great idea.

Unfortunately it failed in execution because the "Hollywood Darkness" which let viewers see the action, wasn't dark enough to emphasise the hazards / advantages of snapping the lamps open and shut.

This TV screencap (can't get a better one, the DVD won't run in a computer drive) shows what I mean.

In fact, like the photos of the BBQ, this image - and entire fight - looks even brighter through "real eyes" than with the phonecam. Just as there can be too much dark in a night scene, there can also be too much light.

*****

One last thing I found when assembling pics for the post were Folding Candle-lanterns.

They were used from about the mid-1700s to the later 20th century (Swiss Army ca. 1978) as travel accessories and emergency equipment, and IMO - I've Made A Note - they'd fit right into a fantasy world whose tech level was able to make them.

The first and last are reproductions: this one is real, from about 1830.

The clear part was mica - a transparent mineral which can be split into thin flexible sheets - while others use horn / parchment, though both of these are translucent rather than transparent. Regardless, all were far less likely to break than glass.

One or two inner surfaces were usually tin, giving the lantern its own built-in reflector, and tech-level-wise, tin as a shiny or decorative finish has been used since Roman times.

I'm pretty sure that top-of-the-line models could also have been finished with their own matching, maybe even built-in, tinderboxes.

And if real ones didn't, fictional ones certainly could. :->

*****

Yet more period lighting stuff here, including flintlock alarm clocks (!)

#period lighting #tinderbox #too light too dark #social history #writer notes #research #period tech #sword vs lantern #c. j. cherryh

2K notes · View notes

fixyourwritinghabits · 11 days

Text

How to Tell If That Post of Advice Is AI Bullshit

Right, I wasn't going to write more on this, but every time I block an obvious AI-driven blog, five more clutter up the tags. So this is my current (April 2024) advice on how to spot AI posts passing themselves off as useful writing advice.

No Personality - Look up a long-running writing blog, you'll notice most people try to make their posts engaging and coming from a personal perspective. We do this because we're writers and, well, we want to convey a sense of ourselves to our readers. A lot of AI posts are straight-forward - no sense of an actual person writing them, no variation in tone or text.

No Examples - No attempts to show how pieces of advice would work in a story, or cite a work where you could see it in action. An AI post might tell you to describe a person by highlighting two or three features, and that's great, but it's hard to figure out how that works without an example.

Short, Unhelpful Definitions - A lot of what I've seen amount to two or three-sentence listicles. 'When you want to write foreshadowing, include a hint of what you want foreshadowed in an earlier chapter.' Cool beans, could've figured that out myself.

SEO/AI Prompt Language Included - I've seen way too many posts start with "this post is about..." or "now we will discuss..." or "in this post we will..." in every single blog. This language is meant to catch a search engine or is ChatGPT reframing the prompt question. It's not a natural way of writing a post for the average tumblr user.

Oddly Clinical Language - Right, I'm calling out that post that tried to give advice on writing gay characters that called us "homosexuals" the entire time. That's a generative machine trying to stay within certain parameters, not an actual person who knows that's not a word you'd use unless you were trying to be insulting or dunking on your own gay ass in the funniest way possible.

Too Perfect - Most generative AI does not make mistakes (this is how many a student gets caught trying to use it to cheat). You can find ways to make it sound more natural and have it make mistakes, but that takes time and effort, and neither of those are really a factor in these posts. They also tend to have really polished graphics and use the same format every time.

Maximized Tags (That Are Pointless) - Anyone who uses more than 10 one-word tags is a cop. Okay, fine, I'm joking, but there's a minimal amount of tags that are actually useful when promoting a post. More tags are not going to get a post noticed by the algorithm, there is no algorithm. Not everyone has to use their tags to make snarky comments, but if your tags look like a spambot, I'm gonna assume you're a spambot.

No Reblogs From The Rest of Writblr - I'm always finding new Writblr folks who have been around for awhile, but every real person I've seen reblogs posts from other people. We've all got other stuff to do, I'm writing this blog to help others and so are they, the whole point of tumblr is to pass along something you think is great.

While you'll probably see some variation in the future - as people get wise to obviously generated text, they'll try to make it look less generated - but overall, there's still going to be tells to when something is fake.

I don't have any real advice for what to do about this (other than block those blogs, which is what I do). Like most AI bullshit, I suspect most of these blogs are just another grift, attempting to build large follower counts to leverage or sell something to in the future. They may progress past these tattletale features, but I'm still going to block them when I see them. I don't see any value in writing advice compiled from the work of better writers who put the effort in when I can just go find those writers myself.

#writblr #AI Bullshit #The State of Things These Days

612 notes · View notes

nsharks · 5 months

Text

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twelve —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: *hint at sexual assault. please be cautious!* death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

Dense mud packs onto the soles of your boots. You shift the near-empty backpack on your shoulder and slip back a few sweat-laced strands of hair from your face. Never before were you a morning person. In fact, you used to purposely sign up for all the afternoon lectures in uni. But now, time and sunlight are precious. You set out to search for the camp this morning with only a sliver of sunrise as your companion.

You hope Ghost was right.

He suspected that their camp would be situated in a location with easy access to the military base, river, and nearby village so they could draw resources from all three. So that's the direction you're headed in, squinting at nearby landmarks and interstate signs to help guide you. It's quite the hike: grueling, hilly terrain and moist air that you can't distinguish from your own sweat. You've stepped over some interesting sights along the way. An old forest station with CAMP FEES and LEAVE NO TRACE posters still outside. A small skeleton tucked in a bush with only child-sized rainboots left on it. For a moment, you saw Joseph. Toddling around in the puddles outside your sister’s house. You had to force yourself not to look at it for too long; you wiped your eyes, gritted your teeth, and prayed it had been painless for them.

You come to a narrow creek, crossing over a stone bridge that spits you out among dense evergreens. Finally, a faint column of smoke comes into view just above the forest's canopy.

That must be it.

It's certainly a sign, so you suck in a shaky breath, ignore the rush of blood in your veins, and do what Ghost suggested: climb a tree to get a better look.

There was a time not long ago when climbing trees was your only means of survival. This time, it feels so much easier to hoist yourself up and grip the bark as your muscles flex to steady yourself on a high branch. Luckily, there wasn't much to bring in the backpack Ghost gave you. For now, there's nothing in it other than your lighter, a roll of gauze, that romance book, and a small piece of dry wood.

Squinting your gaze, you make out the silhouette of triangular, orange tents and uneven fencing. Definitely a camp. The fence doesn't appear barbed from here, but it's at least a meter higher than the one that surrounds Ghost's place. You're close enough to see a few blue crates in the center that look like those ones from the military medical site. Is that what they're keeping the supplies in? It seems like the only obvious place based on the layout.

What you really want to know is how many people. Soundlessly, you shift your boots to get a different angle and finally spot movement coming out of one of the tents— a sizeable male wearing a leather jacket.

One.

Is that it?

Your eyes stay locked on the stranger for a minute, tracking his movement as he cooks something over the fire. He gives out a long whistle, the high-pitched sound audible even from where you stand nestled in the treetop. Panic seizes your breath: did he somehow see you and is alerting someone else? But no— you're much too far, and his eyes never shifted in your direction.

Instead, there's more movement, the faint shuffling of paws on the ground, and then a large dog appears at the man's side. He tosses something in front of it, what must be a slab of meat, because the dog is quick to start chowing down with the enthusiasm of a mindless Grey.

"Fuck me," you whisper to yourself, fingertips splintering against the bark. "Couldn't prepare me for that, huh, Ghost?"

The plan he instructed you with is fairly simple and straightforward— you'll just have to stick to it and be mindful of the additional obstacle. You've survived much worse even just a few days ago, so with that in mind, you slip down the column of the tree and purposefully backtrack your steps, gaining a bit more distance between you and the camp.

You need a ruse, something to draw the man out for enough time for you to grab the ammo. Ghost told you to bring the book to help get a fire started since the twigs and leaves here are damp after the storm, so you find a good spot and start ripping out the pages, crumpling them up. You arrange the piece of wood and paper in such a way that you have a minute or two before the smoke really gets going. You pull out your lighter from the pocket of your jeans, start it, and then head back towards the camp, this time going around so you can approach it from the side.

You keep your footsteps as light as possible while moving quickly. Once the man notices the smoke and leaves to scout it out, your timer starts. There's another whistle followed by a gravelly bark from the dog. You sneak close to the side of the fence, pausing behind a tree, just when you catch a glance of the stranger shucking a rifle over his shoulder and exiting out the gate. He shuts it behind him with a series of padlocks.

It won't take him long to find the source of the smoke and realize it's nothing, so you muster all your strength and begin climbing the fence, rusty links digging into your palms. You try to do it without making much noise, but the moment you jump down with a thud, the dog's head snaps in your direction. It begins to growl, flashing thick canines under its bloodied muzzle. You break out into a sprint toward the blue crates, but it crosses the span of the camp in mere seconds, clamping down on your forearm before you can even begin to look for the ammo.

The pain is white hot. You silently cry out as the dog shakes its head, tearing through the fabric of your coat and the tissue of your muscle.

"Fuck."

You tug at your arm, but it doesn't let go. Remembering the piece of squirrel meat you brought as a snack, you dig it from your pocket and wag it in front of the dog's face.

"Come on, let go— please."

It's enough to catch his attention, the bite on your arm loosening once you toss the meat a few meters away and he follows it. You clutch your arm with a ragged breath, ignoring the blood and pain that radiates from it.

The squirrel can only distract him for so long, so you urgently flip open the lid of the first crate. Staring back at you is a mix of what appears to be severed limbs and various animal parts. The pungent smell floods up your nose. You instantly clamp the lid back down, fighting the urge to vomit, and move on to the next one.

Ammo.

Plenty of it.

Without a second to waste, you sling off the backpack and begin stuffing it with the cardboard packs of cartridges, hoping it's the kind Ghost needs. When you tug the zipper closed, a decision pops into your brain: to keep looking through the other crates for medicine, or to get the fuck out of there. You take a millisecond too long to think about it because suddenly, you notice the dog from the corner of your eye, done with the meat and moving towards you with another throaty growl.

You tug the heavy backpack on and make a beeline for the closest side of the fence. In the panic, you fail to notice the creak of the gate opening until you are stumbling into a hard chest. A strong hand wraps around your bicep.

Fuck.

He's back.

This is it, then.

"Rocky— sit."

The growling behind you ceases. A whole new fear washes over you as you blink up at a rugged face. The stranger uses his other hand to take hold of your jaw, hard enough that your teeth are forced to grind together. In a heart-pounding silence, he inspects you, bluntly looking you up and down. Then, he takes out a knife and presses it to your neck. Your throat bobs against the icy metal.

"Fucking bitch," he mutters. "Start a fire to try and steal from me?"

"N-no!" Your brain reels for a lie. "No— I don't know what you're talking about. I-I came here looking for help."

"Try a better lie, sweetheart."

"I mean it," you stammer, holding onto the fact that he hasn't slit your throat yet. Raw desperation speaks for you. "My… my friends are gone. Someone attacked us a few days ago and killed them. I've been alone ever since and then I found your camp, hoping someone would be here to help me."

This seems to grab his attention. Dark eyes narrow. It's now you realize he's quite young, maybe in his thirties.

"Someone attacked you, huh? Who?"

"Um, some guy. I don't know. I didn't get a good look at him because he was… he was wearing a mask."

"So some guy killed all your friends by himself?" When you slowly nod, cringing at your terrible story, his jaw flexes. "I've lost my friends, too. They went out on a hunting trip three days ago and haven't come back."

"Oh. I'm sorry," you lie, swallowing. "So you… so you believe me?"

"I believe your friends are dead. I don't believe you didn't start that fire to distract me."

His words make your heart race. Again, his eyes trail down, and the knife follows, lowering to the floral fabric of your blouse and popping open one of the buttons.

"Take it off," he suddenly orders.

"W-what?"

"The shirt. Take it off. Let me decide if I should kill you or keep you."

You put on a brave face and do as he says, not given much room to protest despite the sick feeling that twists your gut. You drop the backpack, half-inclined to swing it at him, but then what? There is no way you can take him in a fight, especially since he's armed with a knife and gun, and there is no Grey this time to help you out.

The coat falls to the ground at your feet before you shakily undo the buttons of your blouse, wincing from the movement of your bitten arm. Crisp air greets your bare skin. Your nipples tighten uncomfortably and his gaze darts right to them, intensifying the churn in your stomach.

He gives a low whistle. "Lucky me."

Your nails jab crescents into the palms of your hands. "Am I… am I worth keeping, then?"

He bears a sick, toothy smile. "Pretty for a thief," he confirms. "Haven't seen someone so pretty in a few years now." His eyes flash to your arm and he reaches to grab it, making you choke. "Hell, Rocky. You gave her an ugly bite, though. Might get in the way of what I have in mind for you."

Half-naked, you are dragged by the arm to one of the blue crates. He slips the knife into his pocket in order to search through it. You notice pills, liquids, and a single glass bottle of what appears to be clear alcohol, which he pulls out along with a cloth.

"Tell me your name," he says, forcing you to sit down on a folding chair. "Before I enjoy you.”

You tell him quietly.

With an eery gentleness, he sits across from you and dabs the bite with some alcohol. The sting is immeasurable, but you roll your eyes to the sky and silence yourself. The feel of his cold, calloused fingers makes you imagine how they would feel touching other parts of your body. You need to think of something quick before he gets the chance to. He still has the gun on him, and the only knife you brought is in the jacket on the ground. Your eyes flicker to the bottle, which he set down by the leg of his chair.

"What's your name?" you ask, looking back at him.

"Leo."

"So, um, Leo— how did you end up here?"

"I was a new recruit in the military when shit started five years ago," he explains idly, fixated on your arm. "Stationed at the base nearby."

"I saw medical tents there," you mutter, clearing your throat. "Did you help with that?"

He chuckles. "For all of a day until some buddies and I decided to take what we could and leave. There was no point in trying to help people. We figured that out pretty quick."

"Oh. Were those the buddies who haven't come back?"

He nods. "I'm sure they're dead by now. But, one good thing is," he reaches for the gauze, sniggering lowly, "—that means I don't have to share you."

As he begins to unwrap the gauze, you decide he’s distracted enough. It happens in one, urgent motion. You clasp the alcohol bottle by the neck, arch it above his head, and thrust it down. The glass shatters, drenching him with alcohol and blood as a piece slices open his forehead. He immediately drops the gauze and hisses in pain.

"Bitch," he snarls. "I'm going to fucking kill you!"

He leaps to his feet and pulls the knife out again. As he does, you dig the lighter out of your pocket and ignite a flame, bringing it to his soaked shoulder. Instantly, fire flashes up his neck and face in hues of orange and blue, even catching your wet fingertips. It renders him blind as he howls and tries to swing at you, but you immediately run away, rubbing your burned hand against your jeans.

You grab your discarded clothes and backpack before flinging open the crate with medicine in it. You begin stuffing as many bottles into the side pockets of the backpack as you can, breathing frantically.

"I'm going to kill you," he seethes again, and the firing of a bullet somewhere behind you means he must have grabbed his rifle.

But he still can't see, his eyes blistered by the flames that continue to lick his face. Each shot bites the ground as you heave the backpack on your shoulders and take off toward the fence.

The dog barks, louder and louder as he runs after you. You don't look back. You wad your clothes up in a ball and toss them over the fence to free up your hands. Then, you quickly climb up, the muscles in your face tightly clenched as the full backpack weighs you down.

You're too slow.

Teeth grab hold of your boot.

You're pulled back down, hands spreading out to break the fall.

In the mud, you wrestle beneath a snarling jaw, dirtying up your hair and exposed skin. This time, you don't hesitate to hurt the animal. You grab your lighter again and thrust the flame into the dog's eye, making it leap back with a pained squeal.

Freed, you scramble back up the fence.

You leap down. Grab your clothes

You can still hear him shouting as you run away, weaving through the thicket of trees. Only when the sound fades do you stop to catch your breath, sinking down against a tree and putting your clothes back on.

"Here."

A moan of relief escapes your lips the moment you shrug off the backpack and drop it at Ghost's feet. He crouches down, swearing under his breath when he unzips it and the ammo practically spills out. He grabs a few boxes, opening and inspecting them under the violet light of sunset. The walk back took you hours longer. You were almost tempted to sleep in a tree for the night, but the threat of Greys or any more strangers kept you going.

"Good. This is good, Twix." There's a hint of disbelief in his voice before he clears it away, zipping the backpack up. He stands and offers a lengthy look from your head to your boots. "How many were there?"

"Just one."

"Just one," he repeats, brow lifting. "And you look this roughed up. What happened?"

"There was a dog," you say dully, lifting your arm up to show him the bitemark in your sleeve. Beneath it, you already bandaged the wound, not wanting to draw attention to its scent. “Just a dog and a cannibal rapist guy."

"What?"

You shake your head. "Nothing. I'm going to sleep."

Before you can take a step past him, warm fingers latch onto your wrist. So warm. You inhale a breath, a burn of moisture lining your eyes.

“Please don’t touch me," you request in a harsher whisper than you intend.

You can no longer see the details of him with how bleary your eyes are, but you feel his touch disappear.

"What happened?" he asks again, voice lowering.

"Nothing. I got your ammo and I handled it. When can we leave?"

There is a pause before he responds as if he is debating whether or not to drop the subject. For now, he does.

"Tomorrow, hopefully."

"Good." The back of your hand smooths over your eyes. "Don't— don't forget our deal, Ghost. Promise me."

A firm nod. "I don't back out on my word."

As if to prove it, he shucks off the jacket and hands it over.

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #fanfiction #cod

1K notes · View notes

inkdrinkerworld · 7 months

Text

Talk Too Much

Pairing: Remus Lupin x loud but shy!reader

Cw: college!au, fluff, kind of friends to lovers, obliviousness by Remus for a while, drinking (mentioned), smoking (cigarettes), I think that’s it

Wc: 2.2k

You’re a loudmouth. Through and through. Of all your friends, you honestly think you and James would be the ones to never shut up or run out of words.

That is until Remus transfers into the school and infiltrates your friend group and suddenly you find the words can run out.

It’s not on purpose.

It seems to take you over purely by coincidence- the way your throat gets dry and your tongue seems too heavy to form the words you want to get out when Remus seems to be paying attention to only you. His gaze isn’t unwelcome- that’s the entire problem.

You like the feeling of being what he looks at, but it feels too good, too natural.

His honey eyes that are just lightly flecked with green, and his sharp jawline that’s adorned with silvery scar tissue that somehow makes him even more handsome.

He’s also always got a cigarette to fiddle with.

You’ve only seen him smoke twice, and had been mesmerised by the way his cheeks hollow and how he blows the smoke out and it seems to curl around him like it’s unable to obey his exhales in the opposite direction.

He reminds you in a way of Charlie Dalton and Stephen Meeks.

Fctional characters who Remus seems to emulate in his confidence (from Charlie) and a sort of confidence that’s self-assured yet mild at the same time (a mix of the two) and that in itself makes you fall a little more for him.

It’s overwhelming- this attraction to him. It confuses you and has you tripping over words in your head, far less for if you voiced them and all that was heard were clunky excuses for sentences.

What makes your sudden bouts of silence obvious is the fact that your friends have caught onto you.

It’s not like it’s exceptionally hard to decipher either- you’re not really good at being subtle.

You suspect James and Sirius are taking bets on when it’ll all be too obvious for everyone to walk around it and you desperately hope that it takes months while simultaneously hoping it takes only weeks.

Remus notices the way your body freezes when you realise you’ve caught his attention in your storytelling. In his mind, it’s because you don’t like him.

The way you shrink down and suddenly go silent the moment his eyes set upon you, the way you remain quiet even though he sees the way the corners of your mouth twitch with something to say.

He thinks he’s put you off somehow, especially when the second he’s gone a little ways away to get a drink or get his lunch, you seem to perk right back up and dive into storytelling once more.

It bothers him so much he asks Sirius about it- a mistake in itself, because Sirius only pokes fun at his friend.

“If you can’t realise why she goes silent the moment you stare at her Lupin, I can’t help you.” Sirius walks off leaving Remus even more perplexed, moreso when he hears Sirius says, “How’s he so thick for someone doing so many higher classes?”

It bewilders Remus for weeks, your always sudden vows of silence and then your equally sudden broken vows.

You’re all at a house party when it comes to an almost end.

You’re dressed pretty like always, a skirt that hugs all the places Remus longs to touch and a top that shows a sliver of your stomach and Remus catches a glimpse of jewellery hanging in your navel.

Your ears have a pair of hanging bat earrings, and your necklace is your standard one- he’s sure he’s never seen you without it.

You’re smiling and laughing with Marlene and Mary as you walk in. Remus wants to figure out why you dislike him so, he desperately wants to change your sour opinion of him. He’s going to at least try to do so tonight, if you can stomach looking at him.

“C’mon losers,” James’ loud voice is unmistakable, “We’re playing seven minutes in heaven.”

Remus is only approaching when he hears your teasing,

“Are we taking a blast back to Year 9 Jamie?”

James nods, “Yeah we are, and would you look at that you and Lupin are up first.” You’re sure there’s an evil little grin on James’ face when you look up and find Remus standing there in his soft brown sweater and jeans.

You can smell a little of the cigarette he’d smoked before coming in, but mostly you smell his citrus, pepper and amber cologne.

It’s heady and you swear your brain gets a little drunk on it.

“Get going you two,” Sirius teases and you sigh standing.

Remus’ mind is reeling, wondering how he’s going to get back at Sirius and James and the rest of your friends that he knows are in on this too.

Out of ear shot of your friends as you both go to the nearest room, Remus says lowly, “You don’t have to come in. I’ll just tell them we talked.”

You look up at him, eyes wide and Remus takes your surprise as a moment to admire you up close. He counts three beauty marks near your right eye, another on your neck just under your chin, and one on your nose. He’s distracted by you for a good long while that he doesn’t register you’ve spoken till he sees you walk into the room and gesture for him to follow.

It’s tense, a silence neither of you are sure how to break.

You think Remus is the most gorgeous man to be placed on the Earth, and Remus thinks you find him repulsive.

You watch Remus climb onto the bed, his long legs crossed at the ankles as his back presses against the headboard.

His casualness makes him look even more attractive and while you’re aware that you’re staring at him, you can’t make yourself stop.

‘Now or never,’ he thinks to himself before asking, “Have I offended you somehow?”

There it is, laid open and bare. The question hangs in the air, like the most tantalising yet foreign fruit you’ve ever seen.

“No?” It comes out like a question. One Remus takes as a chance to explain.

“It’s just that you’re always talking or telling a story with the others, and as soon as I’m near earshot you go silent and you can’t meet my eyes. So I’ve been thinking that maybe I’ve offended you, and I just wanted to say sorry for if I did- directly or indirectly.”

Remus’ attractiveness has been upped by a thousand- you’re sure all the love deities are having a laugh at your hopelessness.

You can’t meet his eyes now, even as you sit on the bed, so close to him that your biceps brush each other’s. “You haven’t offended me.”

Your voice is much softer than he’s ever heard it. Remus thinks this must be the softest you’ve ever spoken in your whole life.

“I haven’t?” he asks and you shake your head. Hazarding a glance at him, you find Remus leaning his shoulder down, his chin tucked as his eyes roam your frame.

“N-no,” your stutter gives you away slowly. “You’re just different from the others.” It’s not a clearer explanation, but the gears are turning in Remus’ head all the same and you can tell.

“Different how?” Remus doesn’t want to assume anything and that’s what causes the gears to come to a screeching halt.

You sigh, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. Remus has never seen you this unsure. Everything you do is with confidence and ease, like you were just made to walk, talk and move the way that you do. Like it was as easy as breathing.

Maybe it’s the way you take your time to consider your words, or the way you fiddle with your clothes or even the way your breathing changes as he leans just a bit closer that makes Remus smile a little.

“Will you look at me for a second, darling gwerthfawr?” The softness of his tone and the way his accent changes to something a little more melodic makes you more jelly-like than you usually are in his presence.

“Hm?” you hum and Remus smirks. Silvery slithers of scar tissue moving with his mouth and making him look wicked in a way that has you falling a little more in love with him.

“Why don’t you like looking or speaking to me?”

Remus doesn’t let you turn away, doesn’t let you tuck your cheek to your shoulder as you deliberate what you want to say. No, instead, the menace holds your chin and stares at you, holding your gaze and making your brain cloud even more as his cologne and attention wash over you.

“I like looking at you,” you admit shyly, the confession coming from your lips with hesitation. Like Remus will be repulsed by the fact that you like looking at him. “But you make me nervous.”

The words are suspended in the quiet of the room. All there is the muffled sounds of the party going on in the living room, and then yours and Remus’ breathing.

“I make you nervous?”

Sirius and James burst through the door, wide smiles that turn into shocked smirks at your positions.

“Well love birds, sorry but your seven minutes are up.” Remus staggers in letting your chin go, but when his fingers slacken, you leave the room, belly in knots in the almost wordy confession.

“So, how’d that go?” James asks him as you bend the corner- he’s sure that Lily and the other girls will be doing the same with you.

Remus flops on the bed, “Nothing that concerns you two gits.” His mind is racing with possibilities of finishing this conversation.

Sirius boos, “After all that planning to get you two in here and snogging each other’s faces off, that’s the thanks we get?” Walking out with James who’s shaking his head.

“But you make me nervous,” repeats in his head for days. He’s not dense by a mile, but Remus has a hard time figuring out what about him makes you nervous.

Sure he’s tall and a little serious, but he’s not as intimidating as he’d first thought Sirius was. Remus doesn’t want to turn to his friends, sure they’d tease him endlessly for being ‘thick,’ and then more than likely tell you and that would just make you even more nervous to look or speak to him at the very least.

What Remus does do, is consult the best person he knows that will give him impartial advice; books.

There’s always a book for any occasion, so he delves deep. Behavioural analysis books, books on people with social anxiety (which he doesn’t think you have because it’s just him that gets the selective mutism) and even at the end of it, he turns to romance novels. Something must stand out.

It comes to a head when Remus comes to the library when you’re busy typing away at your essay. You feel the presence, the warmth of his pepper and amber cologne as he pulls the seat out beside you.

Remus doesn’t say a word as he sits down. Instead, he pulls out his laptop and begins typing at the same essay prompt you’re working on.

You’re hyper aware of everything he’s doing- every breath, every sigh, every harsh backspace and enter.

Remus doesn’t seem to be half as affected as you are and it has you whispering, “What are you doing here, Remus?”

He hums, tapping his forefinger near the touchpad. He finishes his sentence and then turns to you. “Working on that essay due tomorrow.��

You frown, lips pulled downwards as you think of your next words. “You know what I mean, why are you sitting beside me?”

Remus sighs, head hanging off the back of the chair. “I want you to not be nervous around me anymore. I also want to know why I make you nervous.”

You swallow, mouth suddenly dry.

Remus turns to look at you and the amber lighting of the library makes his skin look sunkissed and supple. His honey and sage eyes blink owlishly at you, no sign of rushing you along for an answer.

That was something you had learnt while silently watching Remus. He’s always actually listening- not just listening to respond.

“Because,” you start, eyes darting all over his face in search of any insecurity in it. “You always seem so hyper focused on what it is I’m going to say next and it flusters me.”

Remus’ face morphs into a smile, his lazy expression from before melting away as his eyes warm to your embarrassed whisper.

“So it’s not dislike?” He asks, hands itching to tip your chin up like he had the other night.

“Are you going to make me say it out loud?”

“Poor girl,” he feels much more confident now. Now that he knows for sure that you don’t hate him and that you might actually like him as much as he likes you, he can be a little more flirty.

His hand reaches for your wrist, thumb running back and forth around your pulse.

You scowl, more than a little bashful to have exposed your feelings to Remus. He doesn’t mind.

No, Remus feels over the moon. Enough so that his hand moves from your wrist and his forefinger hooks under your chin so you’re making eye contact again.

“I like you too. Just as much,” it’s his turn for a whispered confession and you hope to all hell that he can’t feel the thundering of your pulse. “Maybe more.”

You feel your body buzz under his attention. Remus leans in closer, “Let me take you out after this? We can go somewhere quiet and have a proper ‘first’ conversation.”

#remuslupin #remus lupin #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x black!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x yn #remus lupin x loud but shy!reader

2K notes · View notes

s0ulsniper · 4 months

Text

im yours. bucky barnes x afab!reader || b.b.

pairings: bucky barnes x afab!reader

synopsis: the power goes off in the tower, leaving you to try to stumble down to the living room where everyone was told to meet.

warnings: she/her pronouns used, cursing, both reader and bucky are teases.

tonight had been more than amusing, but also tiring. leaving your saturday night to tony's plans was definitely a choice that you cannot stop making. to give him some credit, his parties are definitely fun, and hanging out with everyone on top of that, too.

but- it always leaves you sprawled out on your bed with the dimly lit television the only thing lighting up your room, other than the obvious street lights.

your head was pounding and your body ached, nothing could quite help that especially with how little you care to help yourself.

that's when the tv shutoff. at first you suspected it was just a glitch of some sort and your groaned as your reached for the remote.

it didn't turn on, even after the 42nd time of pressing it. you took it upon yourself to glance out of the window, moving your curtain slightly to peer out.

none of the city had any sort of power outage.

weird.

the next thing that came to mind is one of the idiots are pranking you.

your eyes roll at the thought. how selfish could they be knowing that you were trying to rest? maybe tony got too drunk and decided to fuck around.

you settled on just going to find out for yourself.

wow, gotta thank tony for not giving out any sort of flashlights.

you use any force you have left to rise yourself from bed. your muscles ache and you wish this didn't ever happen.

the pitch black darkness didn't help you either, everything you knew was there you bumped into causing you to let out a string of curses and you were sure anyone in a 30 foot radius could hear it.

you eventually find your way into the hallway, thankful for some sort of light from the windows.

you get a text, feeling your phone buzz in your pocket.

you open it to read Tony announcing that he had infact overloaded some sort of something and he's going to have to fix it, so everyone was to meet in the living room.

"perfect." you sigh out, annoyed.

not only is that the furthest from you but you knew it would be at least a few hours until it's fixed.

you turn around to the opposite direction, failing to notice the plant at your feet.

"fuck." you grumble when your foot makes contact with the pot.

you whince, trying to walk on it but failing miserably.

"seriously? you’ve lived here for how many years, and you still can’t find your way around without the lights off?” you hear someone laugh behind you.

"don't wanna hear it right now, bucky." you mumble.

his demeanor changes and he pushes himself off the wall to catch up with you.

"what's wrong, doll?"

"oh nothing, just having an amazing night." you retort, sarcastically.

he almost audibly cringes at that, first no nickname, then the sarcasm? something is definitely wrong.

he grabs your wrist to stop you from walking and pulls you towards him, embracing you in a tight hug.

" 'm not letting go till you tell me what's wrong, doll." he mumbles into the crook of your neck.

you relax at his touch and he notices, rubbing incoherent shapes into the dip if your back.

"just real tired, buck. went too hard on myself during training today 'n partied a little too hard."

you loved it when he hugged you like this, the contrast of the cold metal and warm body was only something he would let you know of, well and Steve.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. you really gotta tell me when you feel like this. coulda been helping you." he whispers, rubbing your back and hips. " 'specially since I know how you are. always neglecting yourself. doll, you need a break."

and before you know it he picks you up. on instinct you wrap your legs around his waist, feeling his arms hold your thighs.

"what are you doing?" you quiz as you feel him start to walk, not fast but enough to get you guys going to the living room a couple stories down and on the opposite side of the building.

" 'm not letting you walk, just go to sleep doll."

you don't push it more than that, dropping your head to his shoulder with your arms loosely above his, feeling yourself drift to sleep.

you wakeup from the ambiance of your friends talking, feeling yourself slouched against someone on the couch. the lights were still well off, and you were sure it had only been maybe 30 minutes.

you raise your head to see a couple of candles lit here and there. it was enough to see everyone scattered across the living room, Bruce and Nat were chatting on the opposite end of the couch, Steve and Sam sound asleep on the floor, Thor was also sound asleep on the recliner, Pietro, vision and Wanda were sat on another couch watching something on their phone, and you suspected Bruce, Tony, pepper, and rhodey were trying to fix the power somewhere around the tower.

that's when you panicked to look around for bucky, eyes darting around the living room.

"right here, sweetheart." he chuckles.

you turn too see that you were definitely straddling him as you had been when he picked you up.

your lips quirk up trying not to laugh at yourself. instead you slump back against him, hiding your face in his neck.

"embarrassing." you mumble.

"it was cute." you can practically hear him smiling.

"you think so?" you tease, bringing your face up just a few inches from his.

his face flushes and you smile.

"sure know how to shut me up." he whispers not to bother the others. "be mine."

it was unexpected, although it's the only thing that's been on both of your minds for awhile.

"sure know how to shut me up." you whisper back with reddened cheeks.

he nudges your face up with his pointer finger, his face even closer than before.

his eyes dart from yours to your lips.

"say the word and I'll stop."

his hand doesn't leave your chin, but instead slides to the nape of your neck to draw you closer until you feel his lips on yours.

your lips move together like puzzle pieces and it's something you two have been waiting for and dreaming about for eternity it felt like.

you pull away despite you both not wanting to, either way you two are still around the rest and it cannot get further than that.

your foreheads rest together, both regaining the breaths you lost.

"please be mine." he whispers just so you could hear.

you lay back against him to fall back asleep.

"I'm yours." you whisper back.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes

747 notes · View notes

undiscovered-horizon · 4 months

Text

[When the curse activity rises around the country, you reluctantly return to the school to help the sorcerers. Gojo Satoru seizes the opportunity to plead the case of his lovesickness. If you came back, maybe you and him can come back together, too?]

You've often wondered how it would feel to come back. Would you be excited? Or would the weight of the memories push you to the ground? How many things would be different and how many would you recognize?

A bitter chuckle leaves your mouth. You're a grown woman and yet you're nervous like an 8-year-old with mismatched socks. The overhead sign Jujutsu Tech feels imposing as though the genius loci of the school is telling you to turn back and leave; just like it did when you were a teenager, entering an unfamiliar world of unfathomable possibilities. The girl you used to be, afraid of what the future is bound to hold, could never imagine the respect and awe with which your name is spoken now. It's almost miraculous, really.

But there are more important things at hand than melancholy.

You sigh, pushing yourself to walk forward. The rock steps feel the same under your feet as they did years ago, the wooden floorboards inside the entry room still creak in the same note. For what it's worth, nothing about Jujutsu Tech seems any different than it did then.

Nothing.

You know very well he's sitting in the corner, staring at you. It's a habit he has picked up quite a long time ago - watching, observing, studying. He used to do that only to learn a few things about you and appear as charming as he possibly could. But with time this little unnerving habit stuck around.

At first, he looks laid-back. Overconfident, as he usually is. Although you know him a little too well and so you notice the way he's crossing his arms on his chest, his shoulders tense and raised. The greatest sorcerer in the world is nervous when in the presence of his high school sweetheart.

"Long time no see, Satoru," you finally speak up.

"You're even prettier than I remember," he answers, bothering to sound casual. He almost succeeds.

"And you're exactly the same, it seems."

You stare him up and down. The blindfold in place of sunglasses and the plain, black robes make him appear more professional. Still, Satoru's untamed white hair gives him a juvenile look. Maturity is supposed to arrive with age but perhaps the age arrived alone in his case.

Gojo sits further back on the old couch. He rests his hands behind his head. A half-grin curves his lips - the very same smile that always made you equally annoyed and weak in the knees. Truly, if Satoru wasn't as charming as he is, you'd have strangled him years ago.

"Ah," he sighs. "Perfection can't be improved."

Crossing your arms on your chest, you give him a playful look. "Then how come I'm supposedly prettier?"

Suddenly, Gojo leans forward. "Good question." He rubs his chin in faux thoughtfulness. You've learned better than to trust his little theatrics, no matter how amusing they are. "I never understood how this works. Just when I thought you're equal to a goddess, you make all of them look plain."

You feel your hands shaking. If your heart doesn't slow down soon, you might have a serious problem. As warm as your face gets, you hope the blush is not visible. How embarrassing to fall again for his wax poetic right away...

Trying to hide how flustered his words have made you, you force out a chuckle. "Gojo Satoru, always the sweet-talker, eh?"

Despite your best attempt at dismissing the entire situation, the man in front of you seems to have caught on to your bashfulness. After all those years, has he been craving to see you blushing and giggling again?

"If you keep saying my name like that, I might fall in love with you," he warns you half-heartedly.

The realization hits you at one moment. Something you've been suspecting, maybe hoping for even, has been proven right between his smooth talking and shaky breaths. Now that you think about it, it's all painfully obvious: how excited he seems to see you again, the immediate rush to dish out compliments and the rather poor attempt at appearing all suave and laid-back.

"You never fell out," you declare with undeniable certainty in your voice. "Did you?"

Something about the air changes instantly. The sparks of a maybe-rekindled romance have gone out, leaving both of you cold and distant towards each other.

Those few seconds of silence feel almost like hours. The quietness is ringing in your ears, pushing at your thoughts to say something. Anything! Just stop this suffocating unease from eating you alive.

This time, it's Gojo who breaks the silence first. "I stand by what I said back then: you're the one for me. It's either you or no one."

Fortunately, unforeseen aid comes almost immediately - before the tension between the two of you could choke you, a cacophony of teen voices, seemingly engaged in a loud feud, echoes throughout the building.

687 notes · View notes

toxophilitis · 2 months

Text

The Widow's Horny Family

CHAPTER ONE

Peggy Winters was on her hands and knees, her ass jutting into the air.

She had been working on the oven for half an hour, telling herself she would never allow it to become so dirty ever again.

But that was not all on her mind.

She was also thinking of a hard cock.

She had been thinking of hard cocks for weeks now. Each day her thoughts became more and more erotic, tormenting her and making her cunt pulsate and twitch, quiver and become very wet. The sensation was pleasant enough, she enjoyed it when her cunt tingled and burned. But it would be better to have a sweet, hard, throbbing cock fucking into her pussy.

As she leaned over to peer into the oven, scraping at a particularly stubborn spot, her ass arched higher into the air, the back of her skirt lifting.

When she heard the soft gasp, she did not at first associate it with Donny. In fact, she did not associate it with anyone or thing at the time she heard it. Her thoughts were too deep in erotic revelry. But she did hear it plainly when the gasp came a second time.

Turning to look over her shoulder, she found her son, Donny, standing in the doorway, his eyes enormous as he stared at her. Peggy’s eyes began to glow with pleasure and a smile of greeting formed on her full, moist lips. Then she realized where her son’s gaze was.

Oh, my God! she thought. My dress!

But it was too late flow. The dress was an old one that she wore when she took on housecleaning once a month. It was frayed and faded and a bit too small for her, with a short skirt. Even the skirt was torn with rips in it. But she liked to wear it when she tackled the house.

She knew what her son could see, or thought she knew. Donny could see almost to her ass.

In fact, Donny could see his mother’s ass.

He could see the backs of her thighs, the creamy flesh of them, and he could see the bottom portion of her panties. A flush crept over Peggy’s face when she realized her son was not leaving, but seemed to enjoy the view. Despite the erotic thoughts she had been having, her first impulse was to sit up and conceal what he was gazing at so hotly. But she couldn’t move... she felt frozen in that ass-up position. She was trembling, but she couldn’t make her arms move, couldn’t sit back.

She saw the glowing of her son’s eyes, saw his mouth slightly parted. She also saw the delight on his face as he stared unabashedly at her exposure.

Peggy had been worried about this.

She suspected her son had been pecking at her for some time. He was a precocious boy, bold and unafraid. She had seen the way he looked at girls in the neighborhood, his eyes gleaming with desire. She had given consideration many times of having a talk with him, but kept putting it off. It wouldn’t do for Donny to start getting his hands on the girls, feeling them up, maybe sticking his cock into some tight cunt. If that happened, the first thing she knew, angry parents would be down on her.

On the other hand, she knew that she would have to do something about Donny sooner or later, probably sooner. She had been watching him develop sexually, keeping her eyes open for any sign of overt sexuality on his part. She knew he was preoccupied with sex; she had seen the spots on his sheets where he had either jacked off or enjoyed a wet dream.

Peggy was not one to attempt to halt her son’s sexual nature or anyone else’s, including her own. But she did want him to exercise caution.

Another thing that troubled her was his interest in a lovely blonde girl. She had observed them often, and they were quite close. The girl seemed to be equally precocious and had flirty eyes that dared and challenged. The girl went out of her way to make it obvious that she would welcome Donny’s attentions. If it were just that, Peggy wouldn’t mind if her son fucked his cock into her tight cunt.

However, the girl’s parents were not that friendly. They presented an aloof and standoffish manner, seldom speaking to others. They didn’t seem at all friendly, and Peggy was afraid that if they found out Donny was doing some exploring of their daughter’s succulent pussy, there would be trouble.

Now, with her son’s eyes unabashedly gazing at her upturned ass, Peggy watched his expression closely. She tried to sit up, but her arms would not push and her thigh muscles didn’t want to work. Since she had been thinking of erotic exercises and her cunt had been steamy, her gaze drifted downward, seeing the growing bulge in the front of his pants.

She felt a catch in her throat as she understood it was her, her ass and thighs, that was giving him this growing, hard-on. She wondered if it was possible that Donny was interested in her, his own mother, that way. If the swelling lump in his pants was any indication, she knew he was interested, very much so.

For just an instant, she felt humiliation, but it was such a fleeting instant that she let it go. It was replaced by a sense of elation, of pleasure. She felt a pulsation between her thighs, the tingle of her cunt becoming more pronounced.

This is silly, she thought. Waving my fucking ass in the Goddamn air and letting my son look all he wants and me... staring right at his cock. Silly... but kind of nice, too.

Donny never took his gaze from his mother’s ass. He could see the slight puffing of her panty crotch. Finally he shifted his eyes and was looking directly into those of his brother. He grinned wickedly, and Peggy gasped when he ran his hand down and cupped his cock and balls, giving his prick a squeeze.

“Donny!” she said sharply, finding the strength to sit on her heels. “What are you doing, young man?”

He ignored his mother and arched his hips forward, his hand still cupping his cock and balls. “Want some, Mother?” he said boldly, then laughed.

“Donny!” Peggy gasped, but her eyes burning as she watched him squeezing his cock and balls.

Knowing she should be angry with him, she found that impossible. On the contrary, watching him so openly fondle himself excited her more than she would have suspected. There was a lurch in and around her cunt, a lurch quite similar to an impending orgasm. She felt her tits swell, and, without looking down, she knew her nipples were pressing against the faded thin fabric. She had no bra on, and her tits were molded by the tightness. Her son’s gaze moved to them, and she saw him lick his lips hungrily.

Peggy stood up, her legs shaking as her son continued to look at her, his hand still on his cock. One of her thighs was revealed by a long rip in the dress, and she made no attempt to cover it. It was too late, she thought, Donny has already seen almost every thing I have.

Besides, she wore shorts a lot, so there was nothing wrong with her thigh showing. What was wrong about it was the fact that a smooth thigh was more enticing when seen through a ripped skirt than when she wore shorts.

“You’re beautiful, Mother,” she heard him say in a strained voice. “You’re really beautiful.”

She could not answer him, her gaze burning on his hand as he moved it up and down his swollen cock. Her cunt was burning like liquid fire now, and the cheeks of her ass had clenched tightly. She leaned against the kitchen counter, a position that earned her hips to arch forward and her tits to become more taut, her nipples outlined.

“Nice,” her son said as his gaze moved over her straining tits. “You’ve very nice tits, Mother.”

She made some small, strangling sounds. “I... I have some nice dreams about you.” Donny was saying as his gaze moved about her body. “Some really nice dreams. You want to know what kind of dreams, Mother?”

“I... I think you better go,” she said in a thick voice, but not with much conviction. “This talk isn’t right.”

She gasped when she saw him pulling at the zipper of his pants. She lifted one hand as if to ward off a blow. “No, don’t you dare. Donny! Don’t you dare take that thing out of your pants!”

Re ignored her, pulling the zipper all the way down. She watched with hot eyes and bubbling twit as his hand went into his pants. He didn’t take his cock out right away, but teased her by playing inside his pants. Peggy felt her son knew she wanted to see his cock, that he was very much aware of her excitement end steaming cunt. She couldn’t understand how he knew what she was feeling he did, she had no doubt.

Then he pulled his prick from his pants.

Peggy gasped again as she saw her son’s cock.

He released his prick and let his cock wave freely. Donny’s cock was standing firm, very hard. Peggy’s eyes glazed over with flaming desire as she stared at his prick. His cock was long and held promise of becoming quite thick as he grew older. His prick head was quite large, she thought, for his age. The piss hole was flaring and he was dripping clear fuck juices. She could see a pulse beating along the side of his cock as his prick pointed up toward the ceiling.

Donny began to move toward her, and she leaned against the sink as though entranced by his youthful, sweet cock. When Donny was standing in front of her, he lifted one of his hands and placed it upon a firm, spongy tit. Again Peggy gasped.

Her son was almost a head shorter than she was, and she stared down at him, searching his face for something, she didn’t know what. His hand cupped her tit, fingers curling around her tit as he squeezed and felt. Her nipple burned into his palm, and her legs trembled so badly she thought she would fall. With his hand on her tit, her cunt was throbbing hotly and soaking the crotch of her panties. She wanted to remove his hand from her tit, but it felt so good... so damned good to have a hand on her tit after two long years. With her body shaking, she dropped her hands, and the back of one brushed over the dripping head of his cock. She felt the fact juices smear her hand, and her cunt almost convulsed.

“Donny,” she said, not sharply now but in a whisper. “Don’t do this to me... please. I’m weak... I may not be able to stop.”

“Then don’t stop me, Mother,” he replied, bringing his other hand up to squeeze her other tit. With both his hands on her tits, Peggy began to whimper. She was not afraid, and her whimpers were those steaming with intense desire.

Her hand moved of its own volition, and she brushed it about his throbbing cock deliberately this time. She ran her fingers along the hard side, brushed a fingertip ever his smooth cock head and across the dripping piss hole. She moaned, jerking her hand away.

She grabbed his wrists and removed his hands from her tits, then found the strength to walk from the kitchen. She went down the short hall and into her bedroom. But, as she turned to close the door, she found Donny right behind her, his cock still sticking out so sweetly.

She looked down at his prick for a long moment as he stood there, expectation on his face. Lifting her eyes, she stared into his, and, with a deep breath, grabbed hold of her son’s cock with tight fingers.

“All right, Donny,” she said in a thick voice. “There doesn’t seem any way to make you behave. I want this as badly as you do. But I’m warning you, Donny, if you say one word about this to anyone, I’ll blister your ass good, understand?”

He nodded, still grinning lewdly at his mother.

She walked over to the bed. Running her hands under the faded old dress, she stripped her panties off and flung them to the floor. She climbed onto the bed and spread her thighs wide. Donny, with his eyes staring between his mother’s thighs, shoved his pants down quickly, then knelt between her legs, his cock bulging with eagerness.

Peggy took hold of her son’s cock as she lifted her crotch a bit. She placed his swollen prick head upon the lips of her desperate cunt.

“Push, damn you!” she told him.

Donny pushed.

Peggy groaned as his cock entered her cunt. That was all she required to make her start churning her ass. She had her ass twisting and writhing before the full length of her son’s cock was inside her gripping cunt. She flung her arms above her head, her auburn hair flying about as she moaned with passion. She gripped the rungs of the headboard with tight fingers, closing her creamy thighs about her son’s now-pumping hips. He held himself with his hands on each side of her chest, grunting and panting as he fucked his cock in and out of her clinging, slippery cunt.

Peggy’s ass moved with him, bouncing up and down on the bed, meeting his cock with her cunt, hearing the moist slapping of his crotch upon hers. She felt his balls beating a tattoo against her upturned ass. Her eyes were open but were glassy with the intensity of the ecstasy that flowed through her excited body, making her mind reel.

The sensation of having a hard cock fucking into her cunt after such a long time was thrilling.

She lifted her crotch higher as she began to scissor her hot, smooth thighs about her son’s hips. She made soft, mewling sounds as her tongue licked her lips. The throbbing hardness of her son’s cock seemed to fuck very deep into her bubbling cunt, deeper than she would have expected. His prick also stretched the hair-lined lips of her pussy in a delicious manner. She felt her clit scraping against his taut cock shaft with each plunge he made, and there was an explosive orgasm building like liquid fire in the pit of her trembling stomach.

The panting and gasping of her son excited her, telling her his pleasure was as good as her own.

Then Peggy began to squeal in a soft voice as her orgasm rumbled to a head, causing her cunt to flex on her son’s cock, to tighten and relax. It was a motion that she had no control over, a thing her cunt did on its own. The rippling waves of her cunt actually sucked Donny’s cock. Despite the ecstasy that boiled through her, she managed to see her son’s face contort a few inches away from her own. The throbbing of his cock became more pronounced inside, her cunt, the beating of his balls upon her squirming ass became faster. Donny was making sounds as if he were strangling.

“Do it!” she urged in a thick voice, banging her cunt hard against his fucking cock. “Do it, Donny! Don’t hold it back! Let it go! Come, damn you, come!”

With her cunt gripping his cock in contracting waves of her steamy orgasm, sucking on his prick in a powerful, satiny way, Peggy badly wanted her son to come inside her cunt. She did not want him to jerk out, come on her thighs or stomach. She wanted his come juice gushing hotly into her pussy. Donny’s body became tight, then he seemed to shiver.

“Ohhhh!” he groaned.

Peggy felt her son’s cock lurch, then his come juice struck the sensitive walls of her satiny cunt. She felt the throbbing spurts filling, her, and it triggered a second orgasm within, her body. She screamed with ecstasy and churned her ass swiftly against him, grinding powerfully, her head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut. She gurgled as if she were clicking, her hips moving against him as his cock spurted creamy come juice into her pussy.

When Donny slumped on top of her, exhausted, Peggy wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly while he recovered. She could feel his cock still inside her cunt, and she felt the involuntary squeeze the hair-lined lips of her pussy gave his prick. She moaned softly with pleasure, then released him.

“Get off me,” she whispered.

Reluctantly, Donny pulled his prick free of his mother’s clasping cunt. He rolled onto his back beside her, arms and legs flung out, his smooth chest rising and falling.

Peggy sat up, glanced at her son’s wetly glistening cock and, cupping a hand between her thighs, entered the adjoining bathroom.

She stared at herself in the mirror above the sink accused her reflections.

How could you? How could you fuck your own son? Are you that hot for cock? Then she answered herself. You’re Goddamn right I am!

She used a damp cloth between her thighs, tossing it into the clothing hamper. Again she looked at her reflection, somehow thinking she would see a monster, a sex-crazed woman without guilt or shame.

She saw none of that.

She saw a face that was still beautiful, with honey-colored flesh and green eyes, eyes that now sparkled with the satisfaction she had not felt in two long years. She saw a woman with rich auburn hair that had coppery highlights, a woman with a face that could grace any magazine cover.

She saw a woman who still had the same figure as when she was cheerleading in high school. She saw a woman with firm tits, high and spongy on her chest, with nipples that still jutted.

Peggy’s waist was still very narrow, with a flat stomach that had just the hint of roundness to it. Her hips were rounded and flowed gracefully to enticingly long, creamy smooth, thighs and curvy legs. Her ass swelled and arched in a teasing manner, the cheeks as firm as any teenage girl’s ass, writhing when she walked, tantalizing any who watched.

Peggy was a woman with an erotic mind, and a body to match.

332 notes · View notes

estrellami-1 · 1 year

Text

Steve felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. The TV at Family Video was turned on to the news station (the tiebreaker when he and Robin couldn’t agree), and a reporter was saying something about a gruesome murder, limbs snapped, teenage boy suspect, and it all swirled and came together until Steve saw the trailer in the background.

Oxygen evaded him. He gasped, trying to remember how to breathe, how to stay grounded, because freaking out wasn’t going to help anything right now-

“Steve!” The front door banged open and Dustin ran in. “How many phones do you have?”

Steve blinked at Dustin. Managed a breath, another one. His brain still felt like it was swimming through molasses. “Why?”

Dustin rolled his eyes like it should’ve been obvious and gestured to the TV. “I’m gonna call Eddie. And, like, everyone. You know what situation this is, right? And that’s Eddie’s trailer. And he doesn’t know anything about this.”

“I know,” Steve murmured, thinking. “Okay, let’s go.” He spared a glance Robin’s direction. She nodded.

Dustin frowned. “Go where?”

“To go find Eddie. I know where he’ll be.”

“How? Steve? Steve, you don’t even know him. Steve?”

Steve ignored the questions. “Get buckled. You got your radio?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Good, keep it on you.” Still ignoring all of Dustin’s questions, he peeled out of the parking lot, making his way to the place he and Eddie had promised each other they’d go if shit hit the fan.

He pulled up to the shed and gestured for Dustin to follow as he cautiously walked inside.

“Eddie?” Dustin asked. “Eddie, it’s Dustin, are you here?”

Steve should’ve said something, should’ve let Eddie hear his voice, but it’s too late because he touched the tarp Eddie’s under and suddenly his back was against the wall, a broken beer bottle against his neck. “Eddie,” he murmured calmly, even as his pulse skyrocketed. He vaguely heard Dustin saying something about his mother. “Eddie, put down the bottle, please. It’s okay. It’s just me and Dustin. No one followed us here. I know what you saw, I know what happened. I know you didn’t kill Chrissy, Eddie. I know you’re scared and don’t know what’s going on, but we’re gonna help you, okay? You’re not alone.”

Eddie dropped the bottle with a slight gasp, eyes widening as he realized who he’s looking at. “Shit,” he whispered, gently placing his hands on Steve’s shoulders. They were shaking. “Steve. Did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” he promised, his own hands finding Eddie’s waist. “And you? Are you okay?”

“Christ, Steve, I dunno.” He let out a weak laugh and dropped his head to Steve’s shoulder. “She just… she was sayin’ she thought she was crazy, paranoid, and then she’s in the air, and the sound, Steve, Jesus fuck, I’m never gonna forget it as long as I live, and then she- she’s dead, and-”

“I know,” Steve promised quietly, pulling him into a hug. “I know. It’ll be okay. C’mon, my house is safe. We can go there, lay low. Want me to get Wayne too? The trailer’s a crime scene right now, he’s gotta go somewhere else anyways.”

“Yeah. Please. Just… gimme a minute.”

“I’ll give you all the minutes,” Steve promised nonsensically. “We’ll get everyone together, figure out how to beat it. We’ve done it before.”

“Um,” Dustin said, “what the fuck?”

“Watch it,” Steve warned, tracing Eddie’s spine with his palm. “Did you really think the former king of Hawkins High didn’t buy from the best dealer in town?”

Dustin stared at him, disbelieving. “You’ve never gotten high in your life. I don’t think you’ve ever relaxed in your life.”

Eddie murmured something in Steve’s ear that caused him to roll his eyes and pinch Eddie’s side, smiling when he twitched. “You shush,” he admonished before turning back to Dustin. “I have gotten high. I stopped when I started watching you and the rest of the ankle-biters.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Okay, so explain this. Explain how cuddling your drug dealer is normal behavior.”

Steve tapped Eddie’s back, who tilted his head up again to whisper into Steve’s ear. “You sure?” Steve asked, and Eddie nodded.

“‘S fine.”

“M’kay. If you say so.” He stroked a hand down Eddie’s back again before returning his attention to Dustin. “Eddie’s not just my drug dealer. He’s my boyfriend.”

Dustin blinked. “You’re not gay.”

“Nope. It’s called bisexual. ‘S when you like both guys and girls.”

Dustin narrowed his eyes. “But… Robin?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Platonic, like I’ve told you a million times before, you twerp.”

Dustin shook his head. “Wait. You and Eddie?”

“Christ, I’d have better luck talking to a brick at this point. Yes, me and Eddie. Is that gonna be a problem for you?”

“Well, yeah,” Dustin said, like it was obvious, unaware of the way Steve and Eddie and both stiffened at his words. “You’re, like, my brothers or some shit. I don’t want my brothers dating each other. Besides, you both could do so much better.”

Eddie snorted and looked up at Dustin. “Not sure that’s how that works, bud.”

“Sure it is,” Dustin shrugged.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Not the point,” he reminded them both. “Eds, c’mon, let’s get you to my house. Dustin, can you walkie everyone? Tell them to meet us there?”

Dustin shook his head, but brought the walkie up to his mouth anyways. “Uh… guys? We’re meeting at Steve’s house ASAP. Over.”

“That’s not proper form, dipshit. Over.”

“Shut the fuck up, how about that? Over.”

“Fucking hell,” Steve murmured, grabbing the walkie from Dustin. “Listen up, twerps, my house, twenty minutes, move it. Over and out.”

Eddie began to grin at Steve. “‘S kinda hot, Stevie.”

“Oh, god,” Dustin said, screwing up his face. “No. Nope. We’re not going there. Just… let’s go. Before I try to bleach my brain.”

Steve chuckled, smacking a kiss to Eddie’s cheek and ruffling Dustin’s hair through his hat. “Glad you’re safe, Eds. Let’s go.”

#throwing my hat in the ring for the #‘Steve and Eddie were together before everything went down’ trope #is the phrase ‘throwing my hat in the ring’#or does that mean giving up #I can’t remember #anyways #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #use your imagination for the other Party member on the walkie #I hope someone likes this. ik it’s overdone but #I had fun #unofficial name is ‘cuddle your drug dealer’#because I am the funniest person ik sometimes #or maybe just the punniest #starambles

2K notes · View notes

writing-for-marvel · 7 months

Text

Day 7: Striptease

Mob!Bucky's Kinktober Honeymoon

Mob!Bucky Barnes × Wife!Reader

Summary: Bucky gets turned on while you try on your new designer clothes.

Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, fingering, ruined orgasm, Bucky speaking Romanian & being obsessed with his wife (yes, those are warnings 👀)

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: this isn’t a typical striptease but I wasn’t sure what else to call this - it’s more of a sexy try on haul with smut. Dividers by me, please do not use. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

💋 Join my Kinktober Taglist 💋

Kinktober Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Library | Ko-fi

“What do you think?” You ask your husband who has perched himself at the end of the luxuriously large king bed in your rented villa.

His nose is in his phone, you suspect checking on business back home even though he promised you he wouldn’t work a single minute while on your honeymoon. But as soon as he looks up, his attention switches solely to you, forgetting all about whatever had been distracting him on the device.

One of the many wedding presents Bucky had given to you was a new closet full of custom designer clothes, including that of a swimsuit collection specifically for your European summer honeymoon.

The way Bucky’s eyes widen, desire and lust mixing like twin flames in his ocean blue eyes, makes you melt.

He’s seen you naked basically every day since you began dating, watched your face contort in pure ecstasy more times than you could possibly count, and yet, even now, more than two years into your relationship, he still looks at you like you’re the most desirable woman on the face of the earth. That there is simply no one else capable of captivating his attention in the way you do.

Bucky stands from the edge of the bed, taking slow steps towards you, his cerulean eyes never once leaving your body - not even blinking.

“Uluitoare [breathtaking].” You are still working on improving your Romanian, but by the astonished tone of his voice and the unwavering gaze settled on your body, you’re fairly sure you understand the sentiment.

“Nuh uh - no touching.” Smirking, you swat his hand away playfully when he reaches out to grasp your waist, performing a slow, alluring twirl to give him the perfect view of every angle. Once his eyes have roamed every inch of your frame, lingering at the shape of your ass and tits in your outfit, you lean forward, standing on your tiptoes, and speak lowly into his ear. “Let me put on a show for you.”

With a steady hand on his strapping chest, you press him backwards, pushing him onto the bed. His complete enthralment in your every movement makes confidence soar in your chest and gives you the courage to begin seductively stripping off your blouse button by button.

Your eyes are locked when the light material falls down your shoulders and onto the floor, a soft moan escapes his throat, his bottom lip curled behind his teeth. Even though you have no music to dance to, your hips sway to a rhythm as you unzip your skirt, making sure to provide Bucky the perfect view of your ass as that piece of clothing also drops to the ground.

In nothing but your expensive lingerie, which Bucky himself picked out, you saunter over to him and elicit a groan when you palm his rock hard cock through the material of his trousers.

“What should I try on for you first?” You ask, teasingly turning around and swaying your hips over the fabric of his pants. His growing erection becomes even more obvious as you start letting your hands wander over your own body, taunting him with the sight of your fingers dipping close to your core.

Bucky’s too caught up in the little show you’re putting on for him to even register the question you’ve asked him, but that doesn’t matter, you already know he’s going to lose his mind when he sees you in the sundress you’ve been eyeing off since the start of the season.

Leaving the confines of his warm body, you sway across the room to the rack of new clothes desperate for you to try on. You can feel Bucky’s eyes piercing through your back as you slip into the new dress, and even hear him swear under his breath when you turn around and show off the complete outfit.

“You’re the most gorgeous woman on the planet.” He comments in such an assured and sincere tone that you could never doubt he truly believes it.

Bucky pulls your body into him, so you stand between his spread legs. His fingers immediately toy with the thin material of your panties at the apex of your thighs, pulling the lingerie swiftly to the side and circles his middle finger lightly over your clit.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” The rough pads of his fingers feel delightful against your slick folds, but you ache to feel more of him, to be so full of him you don’t know where he ends and you begin.

As his fingers trace tantalisingly through your core, your own cup his strong, stubbled jaw and tilt his chin up so his piercing eyes meet yours once again. You take a beat to admire just how much adoration fills them when he gazes at you, before closing the small space and slotting your lips against his.

For as long as you live, you will never tire of the feeling of his kiss. Butterflies. Palpitations. Fireworks. Even if it’s just his lips connected with yours, your entire body responds.

“Bucky, please.” You beg into his mouth, needing more than just the teasing pad of his finger against your clit.

He suddenly thrusts two thick fingers all the way inside you, his rough palm flat against your throbbing clit as he quickly begins fucking you hard and fast, curling his fingers to drag over your g-spot.

“Fuck, just like that.” His palm smacks against your clit with each push of his hand, the pleasure so overwhelming, you’re forced to hold onto his tattooed bicep for fear that your legs will give way underneath you.

When Bucky starts sucking on your neck, sure to leave a hickey, and using his other hand to massage your breast over the dress, you know you’re done for.

Your fingers tangle in the curls of hair at the nape of his neck as you can feel your orgasm begin to ignite like a match… before all of a sudden you feel completely empty, clenching around nothing, and your incoming high dissipates like smoke into the atmosphere.

“Show me another piece.” Bucky requests before sucking your sweet arousal from his fingers with lips curling in a cocky smirk.

You’re sure Bucky can detect the disappointment on your features, but he simply squeezes your hips encouragingly, head inclining to the other garments you have yet to try on.

“How about a preview of what I’m gonna wear to dinner tonight.” You purr into his ear before taking a couple of steps back on shaky legs, trying to maintain the confidence in your demeanour that you had in your prior performance and give him a taste of his own medicine.

Your movements aren’t as smooth this time, but Bucky looks just as pleased. At this point you’re fairly sure it isn’t the fact that someone is performing for him that has him so aroused, it’s that you’re the one putting on the show.

The dress you had set aside for later is hanging in a garnet bag on the rack with all the other formal dresses Bucky paid for. Your body moves fluidly as you exchange one dress for the other, teasingly giving him only a sneak peak at your best assets, and stripping off your lingerie panties in the process.

“Wasn’t gonna wear these tonight anyway.” You place the lace in Bucky’s outstretched hand, which he takes eagerly before smelling your sweet arousal on them and stuffing them in his jacket pocket.

“We ain’t making it to the restaurant if you’re gonna be dressed like this.” Bucky’s hands travel down your sides, admiring every swell and dip of your figure in the tighter fitting dress. He’s practically drooling at this point. “Especially if you don’t wear any panties.” His fingers find your entrance again and as if he never stopped fingering you, you’re right back where you left off, teetering on the edge of pure bliss when this time he inserts three fingers.

The salacious squelch of each thrust is telling of just how wet you are. You grind down on his hand, hips bucking and twisting to find just that right angle where every single nerve is on fire.

“Be a good girl and cum for me - I know you want to.” That’s all you want, to be his good girl, his perfect wife, and give him everything he asks for, including all your orgasms.

And that’s exactly what you do.

Bucky doesn’t relent, fingering you and simultaneously stimulating your clit until your legs start quivering, you’re screaming his name, arching into his broad chest, tugging on his hair and walls fluttering around his fingers.

He looks up at you while you’re coming down from your high as if you hang the stars and the moon in the night sky - like you’re the sun his whole galaxy revolves around.

“Te iubesc [I love you].” Even though your mind is still catching up to reality, you’ve heard this Romanian saying far too often to forget what it means.

“Și eu te iubesc, James [I love you too].” You respond in an imperfect pronunciation, yet a genuinely affectionate smile blooms on Bucky’s face nonetheless. You can feel his smile grow when he places a gentle kiss against your lips.

“As sexy as you look with this dress on…” He starts, fiddling with the straps on your shoulders, trailing gentle kisses down your spine as he lets the soft material of the dress fall to a puddle at your feet. “I prefer you in nothing.”

💋 Join my Kinktober Taglist 💋

Mob!Bucky’s Kinktober Honeymoon Taglist: @tilltheendofthelinepal13 @kandis-mom @buggy14 @opheliastark @auntiegigi @alovecraft @cinnxbunny @zincxxx @cultofcarter @rose-alyssa @kaitlin013106 @wandas-gurlfri3nd @beautifulrare4leafclover @queenyamimarrero @littlerya @noobzandboobzandhooz @wanda2themax @lonelywolfheart @Kbananaclip14 @depressed-gays-of-marvel @ur--mommy @jollyfirebattrash @lauratang @casa-boiardi @raging-panda @nicoline1998enilocin @melsunshine @stinkerbelle007 @mememe7147 @happycat547 @matchat3a @Sirmeowertheruthless7 @inlovewithficnalmen @katiemarsblog @irienanicole @buckyisveryhot @littleravengirl @whyamireadingthis @vase-of-lilies @Mrsrogers77 @saltyshluts @Wwhitewolff @buckysdogtagss @mylastnamesyuh @alexandria-fandom @andth3ywereroommates @avalongreene-09 @sargentbarnxes @keira324 @cherryschaos @missusbarnes-rogers @cherriesnwinee @Ellieangelbee @Shirayukiuzukaze @goldylions @elacinnamoon @buckysdollx @mrsmischief209 @capsbestgirl77 @its-just-smut-haha @ironmansson29 @Slutforderekhale @otome-loves-what @jacesswifey @winterslove1917 @black-mistress-of-evil @buckyscumwhore @purple-vegan

737 notes · View notes

stupidlovergirl · 1 year

Text

TL;DR He's HOT! In which you get caught gushing about how into them you are, by them

Feat. Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan,Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor Dateables Version not edited

"What do I like about Lucifer?" you repeat back. "What is there not to like? He has a pretty good fashion sense, a mature vibe also-" you kept rambling, naming qualities you like about the eldest demon, from his physical qualities to his personality.

He honestly couldn't believe his ears. He had just come to drop off some documents and ask questions. He didn't suspect that you and Diavolo would be talking about him, much less what you supposedly liked about him. The list must be quite great, as you have barely taken a breath and kept chattering off things.

"To sum it up, Lucifer is one the hottest men I've met. Mature with the just right amount of playfulness. Not to mention easy on the eyes" you finish, love sick look in your eyes

He stopped and waited before appearing a little while after. Diavolo could tell he heard, by the smug smirk he wore. You felt awkward, I mean you were literally JUST singing the man's praises. Giving the documents to Diavolo, Lucifer chatted a little before saying goodbye.

You immediately got called to his office after you came home. Man literally started quoting what you said as you rotted away in the chair in front of his desk. Don't worry, he's just having his fun before he tells you the feeling is mutual.

Mammon catches you talking to Asmo about him on one of your spa days. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop! Honest! You were just kinda loud and he could hear all that you were saying about him through the door.

“Have you SEEN his eyes Asmo? They are the prettiest shade of blue! Ugh, and his hair is so freaking soft. I have never been so in love. He can rob me blind as long as he just keeps smiling. I am so down bad. AND ANOTHER THING-!” you said, going on another tangent.

Mammon is blushing sooo bad. He is so pumped you like him back! As you should, he IS your first man!!! He has no preservation instincts, so he yells in victory, fistpumping the air. Asmo gets on to him and they have an argument about how he needed to learn to stop that. You, on the other hand, are trying to hide.

Mammon kidnaps you (against all of Asmo's protest) and tells you that you should feel that way about him! He is the Great Mammon after all, your first man! He also stutters out that he likes you too.

Leviathan does not know how the stars aligned, but he heard you and Beel talking in the kitchen. Well, you were talking as Beel scarfed down the entirety of the fridge and pantry. (He's hoping that his rainbow pizza is a survivor).

"He is just so dreamy, Beel. I don't know how he doesn't see it. His sunset eyes, his devotion to his games? Ugh, and when he goes on his nerd rants? Be still my beating heart!!" You exclaim dramatically.

Through a muffled mouth of food, he hears his younger brother reply

"Just tell him. I'm pretty sure he likes you back"

"He's like a wild animal! Can't approach him to fast or he will run away!! Ugh, but I wanna kiss him so baddd"

He squeaks at that comment, quite loudly. The two of you come out of the kitchen, but Levi is GONE. He might have given away someone who was listening in, but he will not get caught.

Later in the week, he invites for an anime marathon, and makes it very obvious he knows. Just tell him there, he'll freak out, but accept anyways.

Honestly, it was your fault for talking about Satan in a library, especially quite close to the mystery novels.

He was looking for a novel, when he heard you and Mammon talking. He recalls that earlier in the week you two got in trouble for low quiz scores, so you must have been forced to stay here for so many hours.

"Ugh, he is so cute. I love him sooo much. He is so cute when he plays with the cats in the street. He looks so at peace and comfy I lose my mind. Not to mention, his ability to remember things? Iconic. He is the only reason I pass history. I have never felt this way before! I think Satan is, like, my perfect match."

"Good for you. Did you find a cheat sheet online?" Mammon replies boredly.

"I don't think Lucifer would appreciate you not even attempting the work, Mammon" Satan replies, startling both of you.

"Satan!" the both of you yell, in shock.

"H-how long have you been there?" You ask nervously. Oh, how cute is all Satan can think.

"Long enough"

He ignores it till Mammon and you finish your work, with his help of course. He tells you the feeling is mutual, and that he appreciates all the compliments.

Asmo was running late. It was usual, beauty takes time you know! It's also tasteful to be fashionably late, keeping suspense up. He does feel a little bad, as it is Solomon and you kept waiting. It was a cute new café that he had seen all over Devilgram, and just knew that the three of you had to go together.

He was about to yell out for you two, but he saw you passionately talking about something so he decided not to.

"He is just so pretty, Sol. Do you ever think he would be into me? He is completely out of my league, but maybe there's a small chance?? I could be, like, his funny little significant other who hypes him up!! I think Asmo would appreciate that, don't you?"

Solomon, who had noticed Asmo approaching, just shrugged.

"I dunno, you ask him" is all he says, pointing at the object of your affections with a smirk.

Asmo is soooo happy!!!!! You and him are gonna be the prettiest couple to ever exist, and he tells you that right then and there. He announces that you're dating right on the spot, as you and he both obviously want to. You three have a good day out, and when you go home, Asmo spoils you as you both talk about how the other one is prettier.

Beel had just gotten out of a shower after a workout. He, you, and Belphie had a movie night planned. Aka, Beel gets snacks, Belphie sleeps through the entire thing, and you get to see something you have wanted to for a little bit while hanging out with the twins. It was a perfect win-win -win for all three of you. You and Belphie we're doing prep(you were while Belphegor slept the whole time) for when he came back in their room. So, when he heard you giggling in their room, Beel couldn't help but smile.

"He is so perfect, Belph! He cares so deeply for everyone, and is so kind. I dunno if I ever met such a sweetheart before. I think I should go for it, but I don't know. I figure I should ask you how he feels since he is your twin"

"Go for it" is all Belphegor replies with, sleep obvious in his words. He hears you laugh again, and then decides to open the door.

You look a little pale, and Belphie looks a little smug. He probably heard him coming down the hall, with his better hearing.

"Hey! So I thought-"

"You really feel that way?" Beel ask.

"Oh! You, uh, heard that. Yeah, I really do"

Ecstatic, he smiled so big when you said you were serious. Puppy boyfriend aquired baybee!!!!!!! You two watch the movie while holding hands and cuddling as best you could. Belphie appreciates you two being together but he's not giving up the best cuddle spot to indulge you two.

Belphie, Satan, and you had a scheduled Anti-Lucifer League meeting. The plan was to move everything in Lucifer's office half an inch to irk him. Belphegor had fallen asleep, so he came in a little later than you two.

"He is so cute when he sleeps Satan! He literally acts like a cat! When he snuggles his head into my stomach I lose my mind!!! I might be reading into it too hard, but I think he might also like me back? Maybe I'm delusional, but it seems like it! I like Belphie so much, he makes me crazy"

"Criminally insane, crazy does not fully describe how in deep you are" Satan replies boredly, like he had heard this rant time and time again.

Belphie, is of course, happy. You like him! Him! Oh man, this is such a good day. He obviously acts like he doesn't know anything when he enters the room. You look awkward, and Satan is tired. After a day or two, he brings it up. He wanted to make you feel like he hadn't heard you. He makes fun of you for being so down bad, but accepts your feelings and tells you he feels the same. He might not show it, but he is also so into you it almost hurts.

#obey me x reader #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #obswd x reader #obey me x you #lucifer x you #mammon x you #leviathan x you #satan x you #asmodeus x you #beelzebub x you #belphegor x you #i will get better at tags. one of these days #bunny's.game.collection

1K notes · View notes

mcflymemes · 6 months

Text

AS SAID BY DORIAN PAVUS * assorted dialogue from dragon age inquisition, updated version

i don't care what they think about me. i care what they think about us.

i like you. more than i should. more than might be wise.

discretion isn't your thing, is it?

all this dancing, politics, and murder makes me a bit homesick.

i suppose it really depends. how bad do you want to be?

living a lie... it festers inside of you, like poison.

i'm a man of many talents. what can i say?

the moment i saw you, i thought "there's a man who knows quality."

if you don't come through this, i swear i'll kill you.

i'm curious where this goes, you and i. we've had fun. perfectly reasonable to leave it here.

here is my proposal: we dispense with the chitchat and move on to something more primal.

i tease you too much, i know.

i'll have to find something we can do that doesn't involve teasing.

time to drink myself into a stupor. it's been that sort of day.

i see you enjoy playing with fire.

i like playing hard to get.

i'm not suggesting we venture into mutual domesticity.

if it's a trap, we escape and kill everyone. you're good at that.

talk to me. let me hear how mystified you are by my anger.

oh, i'm not arguing. just pointing out the ridiculously obvious.

if you choose to leave your door unlocked like a savage, i may or may not come.

now... what was i talking about? ah, yes. me.

i am apparently an incredible ass at accepting gifts.

i prefer the company of men.

would you prefer me bound and leashed?

sometimes the ones you love are also the ones who disappoint you the most.

you are the man i love, [name]. nothing will truly keep us apart.

the things you ask are just... very personal.

sometimes... love isn't enough.

there will always be an "us." we'll just be... farther apart, for a time.

i had no idea something like you was possible.

i'm imagining what you would look like in a dress.

i've never seen you smile so much!

i have no idea what you're talking about.

you stand there, flexing your muscles, huffing like some beast of burden with no thought save conquest.

you're shaping the world for good or ill. how could i aspire to do any less?

my footsies are freezing, thank you.

don't you ever bathe?

you're not suggesting we're similar.

watch where you're pointing that thing!

i'm not wearing a skirt.

it's significantly more impressive than hitting them with a sharp piece of metal.

i only meant to say i'm very sorry for your loss.

we can continue this dance forever, if you wish.

i'm saying we should be careful what we assume when it comes to such matters.

demons don't appreciate a man with good hair.

what i wouldn't give for some proper wine.

your outfit's entertaining. i'll give you that.

he had to leave early on account of assassination.

it's nice to know you have friends.

i'm here to do what is right.

come on, just answer the question.

they were asking me about you. personal things.

you said we'd be ass-deep in trouble. this is more like knee-high.

so what's your estimation? think we can win?

you can't call me pampered. nobody's peeled a grape for me in weeks.

you startled me. you're always so... nondescript.

you're a special and unique snowflake. live the dream.

i wanted to see you make flowers bloom with your song. just once.

you've done a lot less dancing naked in the moonlight than expected.

i've never seen anyone in this part of the world do it.

i realize there's more to you than that.

have i offended you?

for hating the outdoors, you sure seem to like bad weather.

i can't figure you out, [name].

you don't play their stupid game, they send an assassin or three your way.

i can't believe you're scared of magic.

i'm going to take that as a compliment.

still don't like me, [name]? after all this time?

[name], i owe you an apology.

i suspect people will use any excuse to hate us.

why be ashamed? power should be respected, not swept under the carpet.

maybe you're not a complete moron.

i just need to know you're capable of higher thought. for my own comfort.

it would take work. and soap. lots and lots of soap.

339 notes · View notes

fkapommel · 1 month

Text

I believe that it is thematically necessary for griddlehark full lyctorhood, or on Harrowhark Christ

Together, Harrow and Gideon complete the symbolism of Christ. You have the obvious Christographic imagery in the start and end of Gideon's life: she is a "virgin" birth, a genetic product of God without any sexual interaction between her mother and father; she was concieved in order to die, specifically to be sacrificed to save the souls - in a literal and metaphorical sense - of the innocent, i.e. non-necros; and she died ultimately by her own choice, dying with the use of pentrative weapons.

But Harrow is literally the "child of man" - she is the cumulation of a generation, not one but many, the many made one. Harrow resembles young Jesus debating and educating the priests of the Temple, already knowing more about the arts of the spirit, of life and death, than his teachers as an infant. Both are prodigies of their craft. And Harrow, in her soup making era, pulled off the Eucharist, transforming Mithraeum family dinner night into sacrifical, (not metaphysical) cannibalism night. Though both G & H have lain entombed and miraculously resurected, it was Harrow that descended into Hell to interact with the dead (more on this when ATN reveals what she did in Hell).

In one way, this creates friction, a literary rivalry, between the two characters. Who is more Jesus-like? Who is more central to the narrative? I argue that its in merging them that we see a clearer narrative reflection of the scriptural material of both the physical book series and the religio-imperalist model Jod based his empire on. This meta-textual symbolism HAS to be incorporated within the narrative itself given the device of lyctohood, wherein two souls literally meld to become inseperable and indistinguishable. By becoming full lyctors (and seperately i suspect that theyll become perfect lyctor numero dos), the Christographic symbolism embodied by both Gideon and Harrow will become literal and plot relevant, and solidify their lyctorhood not just as a narrative goalpost, a "hell yea" moment for the reader, or a completion of the main narrative conflict of their constant division. Their merging via the Eightfold Path will be semi-prophetic and imbued with religious significance as they both represent a halved Christ.

Gideon and Harrow HAVE to become full/perfect lyctors not just to release the symphonic tension of their constant coming togethers and going aparts, but to complete the image of a divided messiah.

Tldr: yes gideon is jesus, but harrow is jesus too and together they make Double Jesus. Jesus pt. 2 WILL become canon via full or perfect lyctorization!!!

Edit: I do NOT think ATN will /end/ with lyctor!griddlehark; thats just not in character for either of them, nor would that provide a morally satisfying end that is in contrast to Jod's ethos. I believe they will uncover the process and either temporarily inhabit full/perfect lyctorhood, find a way to balance their soul melange equally, or sever their soul bond completely (worst option!) Them uncovering the truth to lyctorhood, however, is necessary to resolve (meta)narrative tension.

#this is my reasoning for the related bullet point on my ATN theories post #and literally if this doesnt happen......#no its gonna happen #it cant NOT happen #but come back to point and laugh while im in the stocks after atn comes out #orrr come back to worship me as the reincarnated oracle of delphi #(its ok either way i like tomatoes)#tlt #the locked tomb #gideon the ninth #gideon nav #harrowhark nonagesimus #mine

191 notes · View notes

mellowmadds · 1 year

Text

Willing Accomplice | Ethan Landry

Ethan Landry/Fem!Reader

Summary: you never know just how much information a person could be hiding behind a shy dorky persona.

Warnings: mentions of violence, cussing

Word Count: 4022

(I believe in happy endings :)

..••°°°°••.. °°••....••°°

Moving all the way to New York City to attend Blackmore University with your Woodsboro best friends who all had a very complicated year full of secrets and betrayals it was obvious that everyone in the friend group would be on edge. When two film students who attended many classes with you guys were brutally murdered in their college apartment, Mindy took it upon herself to start interrogating the newcomers in the group.

“Tara! Do you not remember how these movies work?” Mindy yelled a bit loudly which startled the boy sitting next to you.

“Is she always like this?” Quinn questioned looking over towards her roommate Sam who replied back with a defeated eye roll. Ethan sighed while you wrapped an arm around his torso and laid your head on his chest getting ready to eventually defend him against whatever Mindy was about to accuse him of doing or being.

“Which brings me to my next point!” Mindy stated very loudly standing straight up in front of Quinn.

“Never trust the roommate or love interest” she said with a straight face glancing over towards the two of you innocently cuddling on the bench. Ethan shifted feeling uncomfortable which led you to grabbing his hand and rubbing your thumb over his fingers to calm his nerves. While Mindy started walking over towards you guys her twin brother Chad puts his arm out in front of you two before talking back to his sister.

“Mindy seriously look at him, you really think he’s ghostface?” You knew Chad didn’t mean it in a rude way; he was just looking out for the two of you.

“Exactly my point! Ethan the shy innocent dorky nerd who happened to find interest in our very much antisocial shy best friend. It’s a perfect cover, who knows maybe y/n wants revenge on us and is Ethan’s accomplice.” Mindy had seen way too many movies and just started spewing bullshit.

“W-Why am I a suspect? I shouldn’t even be a target!” Ethan finally spoke up.

“Oh seriously Ethan of course you’re a suspect and a target, your girlfriend got sliced up by some loser last year who liked her despite him being Sam’s boyfriend” Mindy exclaimed and Sam once again rolled her eyes.

“Ex boyfriend Mindy, remember I slit his throat? And he died like a baby.” Sam said with absolutely no expression in her face as she looked over at Ethan.

“I’m done with this conversation you’ve officially crossed the line Mindy. I’m leaving.” You stated while grabbing your backpack and yanking your boyfriend off the bench making him follow you like a lost puppy.

“Great going Mindy! The last thing we needed was the group being split up.” Chad said while getting up from the now empty bench while giving a disapproving look towards his twin. Tara quietly gathered her stuff and accompanied Chad wherever he was going.

“Mindy, wait a second” Sam said, grabbing her arm before she took off in anger.

“Keep an eye on their relationship, seriously y/n can’t afford anything bad happening to her again.” Sam said while Mindy nodded in agreement knowing what had happened last year.

To say last year was bat shit crazy was an understatement. You had been developing an ongoing relationship with Wes when the unthinkable had happened. Wes had gone home right after school that fateful day while the rest of the friend group decided to hang out in the courtyard to discuss the potential suspects in the ongoing ghostface murders. Before heading out you had gone back into the school to retrieve some books from your locker to complete your homework later on. But suspiciously your locker had been opened with a note stuck to it that stated ‘If I can’t have you nobody will’ your thoughts continued to race while you ran back to the friend group only to find them with a sorrowful look in their eyes. After Wes’s attack you had become distant and began acting out as a defense mechanism. During the final act it was revealed that Richie Kirsch had planned all of this with his girlfriend Amber Freeman in order to inspire movie makers to create the greatest Stab movie of all time. You were just a pawn in their huge game plan to kill Sam because of her biological father Billy Loomis except Richie did find a slight interest in you which he openly admitted to everyone in the room before Sam brutally ended him.

Despite ghostface running around ending lives left and right frat parties continued on like there was nothing to be afraid of.

“Well don’t you just look so adorable” You scrunched up your nose trying to hold in your laughter as you stood in the doorway of Ethan and Chads dorm room. You couldn’t even tell what he was but you have to admit he looked absolutely adorable in his nerdy armor costume.

“My personal knight in shining armor” You giggled while stepping up on your tippy toes to place a light gentle kiss on his lips. Ruining the moment Chad walked back in from the bathroom in his ever so slutty cowboy costume.

“Wow Chad what an entrance, you’re acting as if it isn’t below forty outside.” You gestured towards his shirtless body.

“And what are you supposed to be?” Chad questioned you as you spun around showing off your school girl outfit that had your Hogwarts house colors to show off your Harry Potter obsession.

“Come on nerds we are going to be late and we also have to go pick up Tara” Chad said before grabbing his keys and walking out.

“I think you look gorgeous” Ethan blurted out while his face flushed red because he had become nervous around you.

Parties weren’t really your thing so you hung out with Mindy and Anika on the couch. Despite the fight you had with Mindy the other day you couldn’t be mad at her forever because you both had gone through so much together. Getting bored of sitting there having to watch the couple make out all night you got up from the couch in search of your own lover. Not seeing him downstairs you continue your way through the house and spot the roommates dancing together before Chad starts yelling.

“Yes Ethan! You’re such a snack! A full course meal!” Chad screamed, yeah he was for sure a little drunk. You couldn’t lie you were a bit tipsy yourself and just wanted Ethan to take care of you. Before you could even approach them a commotion could be heard from downstairs and there came an overly worried Mindy in search of Chad. Ethan had noticed you by the stairs and grabbed your hand before heading down following the twins. Before you knew it the friend group was outside listening to Tara scream at her older sister Sam for being controlling. Everyone was being dragged back to Sam’s apartment because she had been sick of your guy’s college antics and thought that everyone would be safer in numbers. You had tried arguing saying you didn’t have any of your personal belongings but she did not care and simply stated you could all pack a bag tomorrow and come back before anything bad happens. Sam explained that it would be like one big sleepover for however long until this nonsense was over.

‘But I have Econ tomorrow night” Ethan chimed in realizing everyone rolled their eyes at his comment.

“Do you have Econ or a murder appointment?” Mindy raised her eyebrow staring at the two of you once again cuddled up comfortably on the Carpenter’s couch. Before you could say a quick remark back towards her Sam told everyone to shut up and seemed incredibly frustrated.

“Does nobody care that ghostface is going around stabbing people again?” Sam said running her hands through her hair but before she could speak again a loud bang and a string of moans sounded throughout the apartment. Sam quickly stood up and started banging on Quinn's door while the rest of you tried to hold in your laughter.

“Get your boyfriend out of here from now on it’s just going to be people we can trust” Sam stated and Quinn apologized while kicking her “boyfriend” out of the apartment with only his boxers on. All the tension seemed to die down and everyone got comfortable with the sleeping arrangements that Sam had given them. Ethan got the couch while Chad had to sleep on the floor because Mindy and Anika claimed the loveseat and Sam had stuck you in Tara’s room so Chad wouldn’t pull anything with her younger sister. When everyone figured Sam was asleep you and Chad switched places except you didn’t claim the floor and instead laid on top of Ethan snuggling into his chest trying your best to fall asleep after a stressful night. Ethan wrapped his arms around you holding you close as you tangled your fingers in his full set of curls that were your absolute favorite feature on him. The morning soon came and everyone went their separate ways to either pack their bags or attend classes but everyone had promised Sam that they would arrive back at the apartment by six. Everyone had gone on with their day and before heading out to the Carpenter’s apartment you decided to walk Ethan to his Econ class just to have a moment alone with him and it was worth it.

“Don’t take anything Mindy says seriously, okay?” You said quietly to him.

“I promise I’ll be at the Carpenter’s after class, I just can’t afford to fail or fall back this early in the semester.” Ethan stated while giving you a disappointing look because he wants to be there to be able to protect you if anything bad were to happen tonight.

“I’ll be okay for the couple of hours you’re gone, I promise.” You smiled trying to escape the bad thoughts that flooded your brain of all the possible things that could happen tonight and you should have trusted this gut feeling you had but you ultimately decided to push that feeling aside.

“I’ll save you a seat on the Carpenter couch!” You yelled back as you started walking away. You could hear his little laugh as a response and decided that maybe everything will turn out okay in the end. As you continued walking your phone buzzed with multiple texts from the group chat reading that everyone was on their way over now. You entered the apartment with two packed bags, one for yourself and one for Ethan.

“And where’s your psycho ghostface boyfriend?” Mindy asked before you could even settle down.

“He had Econ he’ll be here later on, I even have his bag with me” You said frustrated that Mindy had already started getting on your nerves.

“No y/n doors are being locked right now either he is on his way or he is being locked out” Sam said with a straight face.

“Why the fuck do you all hate him so much! He has done nothing wrong or suspicious for you guys to be attacking him at every moment.” You said with tears spilling down your cheeks.

“We don’t hate him, we just need everyone to be here. We need everyone to be willing to follow the rules in order to keep everyone safe, so we can all survive. It’s what Wes would have wanted y/n.” Tara said while pulling you into a tight hug breaking the tension in the room only to be interrupted by your phone ringing causing everyone in the room to tense right back up. You answered it by putting it on speaker.

“Hello y/n having a good night aren’t you?” The other person on the line asked and it was obvious it was the killer because of the way the voice sounded. Sam grabbed the phone while walking over to where she kept her knives in the kitchen only to notice that they were all missing.

“Not one of you is going to answer me? If you can’t answer my questions, maybe your sweet innocent boyfriend can and maybe he will have to die a virgin. I guess little shy y/n really was just insecure after all you couldn’t go all the way with Wes and now it looks like you’re about to lose the opportunity to go all the way with poor innocent Ethan.” The killer laughed while you paced around the living room while everyone else just stared at you. You grabbed Chad’s phone quickly dialing Ethan’s number and after a couple of rings he finally picks up apologizing to the professor for having to leave early.

“Ethan no no no don’t leave Econ stay inside the classroom please.” You pleaded into the phone. Instead of getting a response from Ethan you hear the Killer say that he has the perfect opportunity on the other phone in Sam’s hand which had suddenly abruptly ended due to the killer hanging up. Instead of getting a response from Ethan there was a sudden thump coming from Quinns room and before anyone saw it coming Quinns dead body was being thrown onto Anika while everyone freaked out and started panicking Ethan who could hear all the commotion through the phone and started asking what was going on and that he was on his way over and he would be there as fast as he could which after he had said that he hung up the phone and suddenly Chad was dragging Tara out of the apartment and down the hall while Sam knocked ghostface to the ground to stop them from hurting Anika even more than they already had. Everyone ran into Sam’s room where Mindy frantically placed Anika on the bed and quickly started thinking of different ways to block the doorway. While Mindy blocked the doorway Sam was grabbing a ladder through the window from her very hot across the hallway secret boyfriend.

“Are you fucking crazy Sam?” You yelled looking at the ladder that you would eventually have to cross over to get into the other apartment.

“Do you have a better idea y/n?” Sam argued back and you gave her a defeated look while trying to get Anika lifted off the bed and closer to the bedroom window. Mindy told everyone to cross over into the other apartment because someone had to hold the door and she was already doing that so it made sense for Sam to cross first then you followed. You could hear Mindy yelling at Anika to cross the ladder first but you knew Anika was too weak and already bleeding out to be able to cross the ladder successfully and eventually Anika convinced Mindy to cross before her but after that it was too late for Anika as you watched her plummet to her death as ghostface shook the ladder with all the strength they had in them. You will never forget the scream that Mindy let out that night and you were once again traumatized by a person in a ghostface mask. The police were called in by Ethan when he hung up from being on the phone with you. Once everyone was reconnected outside in the ambulance Ethan came running from under the yellow caution tape only to be stopped by Chad pushing him up against the police van.

“I was at Econ, you guys know this! You heard me apologizing to my professor through the phone!” You pulled Chad off of Ethan and wrapped your arms around him and rested your forehead against his chest and just cried you didn’t care if anybody was looking at you.

“You’re at the top of my suspect list.” Mindy stated with a saddened look still freshly grieving the death of her girlfriend.

“You guys should be happy that I called the police for you instead of accusing me of being the killer.” Ethan argued back while grabbing your hand and leading you away from the crime scene that was currently being broadcast on the news by none other than Gale Weathers.

The days continued on and while not being able to be fully trusted by your friends you had no other choice than to all stick together like Sam had originally planned on doing. You were glued to Ethan’s hip never wanting to leave his side and the friend group took notice of this and stopped accusing him of being the killer because the murders and attacks continued on and Ethan seemed to have always been around because you had agreed to follow Sam’s rules in order to prove your innocence and Ethan had also agreed. As news broke out that Gale had been attacked Tara took it upon herself to ask detective Bailey to help lure the killer in and execute him. Detective Bailey ultimately agreed because they had killed his daughter which left him with no family at all due to his son dying in a car accident a couple years back. The entire friend group made their way to the abandoned theater in hopes that the plan would follow through and that there would be an end to this nightmare.

“Y/n I don’t think you should help, you will be much safer out here. I don’t want anything bad happening to you” Ethan said before pulling you into a tight hug then leaning in to kiss you for what could be the last time he thought to himself.

“Ethan we have to help them, we have to put an end to this. If we all stick together nobody will get seriously hurt.” You told him before giving him a quick hug and grabbing his hand leading him into the abandoned theater. You noticed Ethan drop his backpack near the entrance but didn’t think much of it because the group was calling for you two to come to the back of the theater to help go over the plan once again. You felt Ethan tense up before walking over to the counter and leaning against it.

“E, are you okay?” You asked softly, walking over towards him and grabbing his hands. Before you knew it you heard gunshots go off and Sam yell that the killer is detective Bailey.

“Y/n I need you to leave right now, don't fight with me about this, just go outside where it’s safe, please.” Ethan pleaded with tears in his eyes. You watched as detective bailey walked behind Ethan as you stood there frozen in place trying to pull Ethan away from the counter and into the room where the others were because Sam was right we would be safer in numbers.

“Son, are you just going to stand here spending time with Richie's girl or are you going to help me kill the people who murdered your brother?” You watched in disbelief as someone in a ghostface costume walked up beside detective bailey.

“You did good kid, unlike your brother over here who refuses to leave his little girlfriend alone.” Bailey said as they took off their mask only to reveal Quinn. The others stood behind you watching all of this unfold.

“Oh hey roomie” Quinn laughed as Sam looked upon the scene unfolding in front of her.

“I thought you were dead?” Tara asked in shock.

“You know as a detective it is really easy to fake someone else’s or your own death.” He laughed as he pointed the knife to his youngest son.

“Maybe we should have faked Ethan’s death since he wanted to fall in love with his older brother’s crush and ruin our plan of getting revenge.” Bailey said right before Ethan had grabbed you, picking you up off of the floor and walking behind the counter to join his sick twisted family.

“You’re Richie’s family aren’t you?” Sam asked and that's when you noticed Ethan’s eyes change into a pair you have never seen before.

“E, please please let me go” You pleaded.

“The pet names aren’t going to work anymore y/n” Detective Bailey said before forcing Ethan to drag you into the other room. The others called out for you begging Ethan to let you go but it was no use he was never going to let you go now. But before leaving the room you noticed Ethan grabbed his backpack. While your friends begged and fought for their own lives in the other room Ethan brought you over to one of the movie theater seats and sat you down.

“I was never going to hurt you.” He stated.

“I never hurt anyone, it was just them two.” Ethan said with tears spilling down his face. He unzipped his backpack pulling out one of his dads guns and a knife. Ethan handed you the knife and told you to follow his lead.

“No Ethan, I am not hurting my friends, they are my family.” You cried out.

“No we aren’t hurting them, you know who to aim for.” Ethan said with confidence. You didn’t know if you could fully trust him or not but you had no other option than to do what you were told. You were his willing accomplice. He grabbed your arm and walked you back over to where the others were.

“Y/n what are you doing?” Chad yelled

“She turned on us just like I knew she would.” Mindy choked out due to her blood pooling in her mouth because of being stabbed in the stomach.

“Well would you look at that. What an unexpected twist of events I knew Richie wouldn’t disappoint me, you are psychotic just like he was. Too bad my other son over here won’t ever live up to his older broth-” Before he could finish his sentence detective Bailey hit the ground and died at the hands of his youngest son. And before Quinn could get her hands on you Sam had shot her and she fell right on top of her father as both of them laid there lifeless. You dropped the knife and ran over towards your friends sobbing, finally being able to let all of your feelings out. Tara pulled you into a hug while all of you watched Ethan slide down to the ground unable to keep himself composed after killing the only family he had left.

“He never hurt anyone.” You quietly whispered, unable to speak properly, but everyone had heard you.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Sam had questioned him while pointing her weapon of choice at him.

“Bailey he killed my mother covered it up because he didn’t want his wife to find out about his affair. I don’t consider them my family. They took my mother away from me to save their own family image. The only thing I have in common with Richie and Quinn is a messed up dad and I can assure you I am not a killer like my half siblings. I have never had contact with them before they found me when I moved out here to go to college. I really thought that Bailey killed Quinn and he told me that he would kill me too if I didn’t help him. I promise I never hurt anyone and I never will.” Ethan begged while he watched Sam lower her weapon and offer him a hand which he gladly took. He slowly stood up as the others stared at him with sorrow. You slowly walked up to him and pulled him into a hug where he silently sobbed into your shoulder as the others discussed what needed to be done moving forward. Ethan Landry the shy dorky nerd who nobody expected to have that much of a messed up life. Nothing will ever be the same but moving forward you knew you had to be there for the boy who spared your life and protected you from his own twisted bloodline. All of you who have had to go through these unimaginable experiences were a new found family that no killer would be able to separate.

1K notes · View notes

freakoont · 11 days

Note

In love with your Ranpo fics fr, could I order another Ranpo fic? Maybe something similar to unrequited love again (⁠ʘ⁠ᗩ⁠ʘ⁠’⁠) but this time from his perspective

❝𝐈𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮?❞

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐨 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐠𝐬

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨 𝐄𝐝𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐮𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, (𝐘/𝐍) 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. 𝐒𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠... 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅 // 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

【ＳＦＷ】

GENDER NETURAL BUT AFAB READER sorry :')

NOT PROOF READ !

REQUESTS ARE OPEN ! check the bottom of this post for information <3

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

Ranpo Edogawa, it was hard to describe him... He was definitely special, to you. There was just something about the way he'd happily say your name as he would run up to you with the latest snack he'd find... Or how he'd ramble about his day to you... Or the way he'd call you his favorite assistant.

He definitely knew how to make someone smile... But he also knew how to make someone feel dumb.

It's been... How long since you've known this guy? How long have you been trying to make it obvious that you liked him?

For someone who called themselves the world's greatest detective... He could also be clueless.

How many gifts, snacks and treats, have you left on his desk since you've met him? How much do you have to deal with his cockiness and tease? How long. Have you waited. For him to say. Three simple words?

╰┈➤ ❝I love you❞

Maybe its time you give up. There's no point in trying. He'll just never notice it, huh?

Or maybe he has, but just doesn't care... Maybe he just doesn't see you anymore than just a friend.

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

Ranpo stepped into the Agency a few days later, ready to be visited by your great smile and a big hug from you ! He always loved it when you'd give him attention, it was a different kind of attention compared to the other agency members.. similar to that same respect that he had with Fukuzawa.

"(Y/NN) !" He called out to you, noticing how you were at your desk, not jumping to greet to him, like you often did. He didn't suspect anything at first.

You turned to him with a straight look, no smile at all... "Yes?"

"wellllll?" He dragged along, holding his hand out. You were silent for a moment before pulling a small lollipop from your pocket and placing it in his hands. "That's it??" He questioned, disappointed. You often brought him big and new things from different stores and bakeries. Besides, didn't you promise him a surprise a few days ago??

"I don't have anything else on me," you spoke before turning your attention back to your computer, typing away and choosing to end the conversation there.

Ranpo stared at you for a moment, quiet.

He didn't want to question it, so he chose to ignore it and sit down at his desk. 'Maybe you're just feeling down. Or having a mood swing.' he thought to himself while he put his legs up on his desk and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

It wouldn't take long for Ranpo to notice a pattern after just a few days. You seemed to be ignoring him more and more. You gave your attention to the work and other members instead of him.

What, him jealous? No..

Why would he be jealous? He's the world's greatest detective ! The thought of love just didn't sit right with him. He was too busy helping dumb little cops with their cases to get into that business ! ...right?

That night, he stared up at his ceiling, not seeming to fall asleep as he thought about your pretty face or how you'd smile at him... Or the way you'd pamper him with more attention then he could ever get compared to all the other agency members combined.

...

...maybe he did miss you, just a little.

...

What felt like forever, only a few weeks, since he's actually hung out with you, he's decided to confront you about this! Obviously there's something upsetting you that he's not knowing about? It's that easy to see!

"(Y/N)." His voice had called out to you as you were ready to enter the Agency building. You turned to see him standing with a frustrated and upset, yet saddened, look on his poor face.

"yes-?"

"why are you ignoring me." He cut you off, not wanting to wait any longer to know the truth.

You were quiet to say the least, but not surprised. ".. whatever do you mean?"

"don't act stupid, (Y/N). I can easily pull out my glasses and use my ultra deduction if I wanted to." He paused with a sigh as he looked up. He had noticed a small leaf fall from the sky, the wind carrying it as it fell on top of your head. He couldn't help but smile a little, but he was still serious about getting an answer. "But I want to hear the reason from you."

"... You tell me, Edogawa." He was a little shocked by you calling him by his surname. That was.. a different approach. Slowly he pulled his glasses out and pushed it up the bridge of his nose, staring at you quietly.

"... y'know, you could've told me all that time, yeah.. I was bound to.. deduce it eventually.."

"..I know." You lied.

"..so why didn't you?"

You were quiet for a moment before pulling that leaf, that fell on your head, out of your hair and holding it in between your fingers. Ranpo didn't like the friction in the air, it oddly felt intense to him. Maybe it was just the awkwardness between you too... But he didn't understand why it had to be like this. "...I don't know."

"no, you do know."

"..I guess," you paused and sighed, letting the leaf fall to the ground. "So what now?"

"..is it too late to say I love you..?" He spoke under his breath, the smallest tint of blush on his pretty face.

"..yeah."

"..you've lost those feelings, huh?" You nodded your head while awkwardly smiling at the ground, your hands were held tightly together. "..sorry. I was an idiot."

"let's just stay friends..."

"..ah, of course."

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

It hurts to be the greatest yet feel the worst.

REQUESTS - I am accepting any requests for any character for the following fandoms:

Bungo Stray Dogs, Genshin Impact, Danganronpa, Ninjago, Southpark, Obey Me, 7 Deadly Sins, Tokyo Revengers, Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, Death Note, Walking Dead, Demon Slayer, Assassination Classroom, Hunter X Hunter, Komi Can't Communicate, Diabolik Lovers and Doki Doki Literature Club

I will write any of the following: smut (all characters WILL be aged up), fluff, crack/joke, specific plot, angst, HC's, BL, GL

Do not expect me to write any of the following: intense gore scene, sexual themes that are disturbing to most people and anything that will get me banned for a specific and obvious reason.

I accept requests for any character from any of the fandoms I have named :)

123 notes · View notes