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666writingcafe · 3 days

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Jealousy?

"Would you mind answering a question for me?" Barbatos asks me once we've exchanged pleasantries and settled down in the parlor.

"Depends on the question." A faint smile crosses his lips.

"I was just wondering how you could choose to associate yourself with Solomon." The irritation in his voice is rather evident, and I'm reminded of the staredown the two men engaged in a couple days ago.

"What do you have against him?" I sound a bit too defensive for my liking. I'm not trying to pick a fight with Barbatos; I simply want to know why he seems to detest the sorcerer so much.

He sighs before replying,

"Perhaps the version of Solomon that accompanied you here has cleaned up his act--and good for him if he has--but the one I know is fiendish, a blight upon the world, and destruction incarnate. He throws anyone he can under the bus if it meant avoiding trouble for himself. Being here for an extended period of time may cause your sorcerer to revert back to old habits, and I don't want to see you get hurt."

"Why? You hardly know me."

"You're right." He pauses. "I'm not sure, really. I mean, you seem like a good, honest person, but what do I know? Maybe you're just as bad as him, and I shouldn't have even bothered taking you under my wing." While coming from a practical place, his words do sting.

"And yet you did." Barbatos sighs again.

"And yet I did," he repeats, taking a sip of his tea. "The decision came from a gut feeling I had, and those rarely fail me. I just hope that you don't prove me wrong."

My turn to drink some tea.

I'm not used to Barbatos being this open about his emotions, especially while he's on duty. Perhaps time has granted him the ability to remain calm and composed when he's on the clock, but still. It'll be a bit before I get used to this particular attitude of his.

"Are you ready for your first lesson?" he asks, pulling me out of my head and back to the present moment. It takes me a second to remember exactly why I'm over at the castle today in the first place, but once I do, I quickly nod my head.

"Good. We'll start with a fairly basic anatomy topic: pheromones." Interesting place to start. Is he finally going to let me ask the question I had about Lucifer?

"In a lot of ways, demons bear a closer resemblance to animals than to humans," he continues. "While their strength in the latter is fairly minimal, the former uses them as a effective method of communication. Our pheromones can tell others what we're feeling as well as mark our territory, among other things.

"Demons have a baseline scent that's present no matter what they do. For example, I smell like mint, and Lord Diavolo like old leather. Different pheromones will bring out specific notes of the baseline scent. Positive emotions tend to make it sweeter, while negative emotions bring out its bitter and sour side. If those emotions are tied to one of the seven sins, then the scent becomes more potent, sometimes to the point of being nauseating to anyone that happens to catch a whiff.

"Am I making sense to you so far?" I nod my head. I don't have any questions yet, but I have a feeling that even if I did, Barbatos wouldn't let me ask any of them just yet.

"Now, Lucifer and his brothers have stayed in the castle for the last couple months, and in that time, I've picked up on all of their scents. Lucifer had one of the more pungent ones. Understandably so, since he's probably the most emotionally scarred from the war, but it got to the point where I couldn't be around him for longer than a few minutes. And making some of my favorite dishes proved to be impossible after a while, for even the smallest amount of nutmeg would make my stomach turn.

"But the moment you returned his credit card to him, Lucifer's scent noticeably shifted. For once, he actually smelled pleasant. And then it became stronger. By the time he left my side, I was craving a giant slice of coffee cake." At this point, he stops talking, allowing me to finally speak.

"So, you're telling me that my simple nice gesture was enough to turn him on?"

"It would appear that way, yes." Unbelievable. "If I pointed it out at the time, though, Solomon probably would have run after Lucifer to tease him about it, and that would most definitely piss Lucifer off. Plus, he would adamantly denied feeling that way at all, and given his initial behavior towards you, I didn't want to see you upset by him completely disregarding your kindness."

As I mull over Barbatos' words, I'm suddenly reminded of a specific moment. One where Lucifer had his mouth covered with a handkerchief, looking like he was about to throw up.

I wonder...

"If it's not too much trouble, would you mind telling me what I smell like?" I ask, causing Barbatos to smile.

"Not at all. In fact, I was just getting ready to ask you if you wanted to know, so this works out great." He sets his tea down on a nearby table and gets up, walking around and stopping behind the chair I'm sitting in. I momentarily feel part of his face on top of my head as he audibly sniffs. I'm sure that if someone walked past us right now, they'd be weirded out by what they saw.

Or maybe not. I don't know if intentionally smelling someone like this is standard demon behavior. Maybe it is, and I'm overthinking it.

"Vanilla buttercream frosting," Barbatos announces. Somehow, that doesn't surprise me. It at least explains a few things, if nothing else. Frosting can get overwhelmingly sweet.

"That might actually work," he mutters to himself as he sits back down.

"What would?" Barbatos finishes his tea before clasping his hands in front of him.

"There's a creature on the grounds that needs tamed. He's both ferocious and extremely dangerous, so Lord Diavolo had me put a spell on him to prevent anyone from coming into contact with him. If I told you how to undo the spell, would you like to take a stab at it?"

"What makes you think I'd be successful?"

"You don't smell threatening."

"No; I smell like a goddamn dessert. The creature will probably think I'm food and try to eat me."

"And if that's the case, I'll bail you out." He pauses. "There are creatures like this one that are very selective about who they will submit to, and I believe that you fit this particular one's criteria. Plus, you'll earn the title "Ruler of the Underworld", and you can use that as a way to get people to quit treating the brothers like shit." I find myself snorting in amusement.

"Like a mere title is going to make people change their entire ideology."

"People can think whatever they like. They just have to learn to keep some of those thoughts to themselves or else face severe consequences." The grin on his face is lowkey terrifying. I don't know if I want to be on the wrong end of that smile.

So, I end up agreeing to take on the responsibility of taming this creature.

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr

#obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me mc #obey me barbatos #obey me lucifer #this is one of at least a few examples of me flipping the roles of different characters to create a sort of mirror universe #i just think it would be interesting

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aetherance · 10 months

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something something no amount of facial surgery or skin sculpting could fully get rid of the lip scar johnny gave kerry all those years ago something something could never get rid of the deep emotional scars johnny ALSO gave kerry all those years ago something something-- there's an irony in there somewhere.

#˚ * 　nitro in my veins / fuse in my ass　· . out .#i'll never shut up over silverdyne actually #not until i Die #but fr there's a small gap in the hair of his stache #that i'm fairly sure IS where the scar is #from the mic stand incident #and honestly i think that #despite all the surgeries and all the #physical work kerry has ever had done #i don't think he ever WANTED to get rid of it #because it was kind of like...#something that he can keep #to kind of keep himself close to johnny #especially after his death #why he'd want that idk but #SDHGHSDGHSDGH #that man can never escape the silverhand curse

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vulpinesaint · 4 months

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yeah man my dnd character is doing great! beginning of last session he was miserable and stressed and fighting with his party members and thought his god hated him and his guts were literally falling out but by the end of last session. he was back on his feet, distinctly more gorgeous than he was before, body wiped clean of scars, well on his way to repairing his relationships with his party members, assured in his devotion to his god, and he was like. maybe a little less of an alcoholic even. did he have to die for this to happen! yes! does his blood run black like tar now! yeah! that's just hot boy shit though!

#faedren has been dying for like Weeks now it was probably time to just get it over with 😭#list of his horrible life-ending scars is no longer relevant cause he got a New Body basically.#list of times that he has Fully Fucking Died though. need to keep that one updated sdkjgdsf #i think that makes three times now? if i remember correctly #WAIT. FOUR ACTUALLY.#he saw the gates of elysium once after getting fucking Ruined during a battle in the first part of the campaign #had his whole chest cleaved open had to get welded back together with the brand of his goddess. so that's death number one #can't for the life of me remember but i'm fairly sure he died another time in the same kind of time span #where he didn't like. Get To The Afterlife but definitely was not alive for a second there #he died when xefros attacked him! again he didn't make it to fucking heaven but he died enough to get vampirified #(died by being bitten by a vampire)#and then they killed him on purpose for anti-vampire surgery. took his heart out and shit.#so thankful in my heart of hearts that he did not have to know what was going on during that process he would be so traumatized #don't worry baby boy go to sleep and go talk to the gods a little bit <3 wake up happier and healthier <3 #meanwhile his party members watching his organs be removed and his body be burnt to ashes and then his corpse be reanimated as a zombie #before he finally sits back up as himself #AND THEN GETS IMMEDIATELY JUMPED BY THEIR PARTY MEMBER AGAIN WHO GETS CLAWS INTO HIS HEART.#that was hot though. very funzies. positive experience i would say dkjghsdf #fucking insane sitting here vibrating waiting for next week to come around so i can have him talk to his little friends #faedren #valentine notes

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pathologicalreid · 4 months

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occupational hazard | S.R.

You and Spencer have a discussion about the dangers of his job.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: plot discussions from 9x23 (angels) and 9x24 (demons), canon compliant injuries, crying, established relationship word count: 1.23k a/n: thought of this while i couldn't sleep after watching the season 9 finale. also its me. I'm the crier.

Your mother always said you had a problem with staring. In the grocery store as a kid, she would pull you to the side and tell you that you were being rude. It always confused you because you didn’t think it was possible to be rude without speaking.

Spencer never seemed to mind your staring, he’d ask if everything was alright, but he never really asked you to stop or told you off.

So, while he was over at your apartment, sitting on the couch grading papers, you just stared at him. You studied how his hair fell in front of his face as he scrawled on the printed paper, and how he set his jaw when he noticed a mistake. Your brows furrowed when you noticed a small scar on the side of his neck, a confused noise escaped your throat.

That got his attention, “What’s wrong?” He asked, matching your furrowed brows before setting his pen down.

Cocking your head curiously, you leaned forward to try to look at his neck, “What is that?” You whispered. It was an old scar, so you could only really notice it when the light hit it just right.

“What is what?” He asked, looking behind him and on his shirt like he was looking for a spill.

Gently, you reached out your hand and touched the scar with your fingertips. “Where did you get this scar?” You couldn’t believe you had never noticed it before – the two of you had been dating for more than half a year.

He reached up his hand and met yours, intertwining your hands together, “On a case in Texas.”

Your lips parted slightly as you looked at the scar again. “How did you get that scar on a case in Texas?” You asked, even though you were fairly certain you knew the answer.

Turning, Spencer set all of the papers on the side table before he turned back to face you. “I was shot in the neck,” he answered almost a little too calmly. As if it was just another day in the office, and maybe it was to him.

It certainly wasn’t to you. “What do you mean you got shot in the neck?” You asked, your voice was high and reedy with panic. Fear settled in your chest on behalf of a version of your boyfriend you didn’t even know.

“Hey, hey,” he said in an attempt to calm you down. “I’m okay, this happened almost five years ago, love. I’m fine,” he said, cupping your cheeks with both of his hands.

Your eyes were still wide, like deer in the headlights wide, and you nodded despite yourself. “That’s so scary, Spence,” you whispered as emotion burned in your throat. You knew he worked for the FBI and had for a long time. You knew he had been in love with a girl who was killed in front of him – that’s why he was so protective sometimes. You knew he had been in prison for three months for a crime he didn’t commit – that’s why he taught classes for thirty days. This was the first thing you had figured out – you had told him to tell you everything in his own time.

For a moment, he watched you like he had something he wanted to say but wasn’t sure where to start.

You sat on your heels and retracted your hands from his neck, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry I just… I saw the scar.” Awkwardly settling your hands in your lap, you sighed. “You’re right, it was a long time ago.”

“Wait, what just happened?” He asked dumbfoundedly.

Shrugging, you settled into the couch cushions. “I just saw the scar and I was curious,” you whispered as your eyes burned. “I didn’t… I just mean you don’t owe me an explanation.”

Reaching into your lap, Spencer took one of your hands in his, gently skimming the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “You can always ask, it’s a fact that my job is dangerous,” he told you softly. “Getting hurt is an occupational hazard. It was never my intention to make you feel like you can’t ask me questions about… Why are you crying?”

You wiped furiously under your eyes at the tears that had flooded your eyes, “because you got shot.”

“You’re crying because I was shot five years ago?” He asked in bewilderment, his tone wasn’t belittling, he was genuinely surprised at your reasoning.

Nodding, you pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes in an attempt to stop your tears. “I am a crier; I cry at everything. Please don’t read into this,” you pleaded, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

Gently, Spencer pried your hands away from your face, “Please don’t cry. I hate seeing you cry, and I don’t know what to do.”

You shook your head, and your bleary eyes met his, “Really, Spence, I’m fine. I’m just a crier, okay? Sad, happy, mad, I cry.” You looked up at the ceiling light and sniffled, fanning your face in an attempt to dry it off.

He was staring at you, “You are quite possibly the sweetest human being I have ever met.” Spencer reached out and pulled you to him, “Look at me.”

Begrudgingly, you looked at him. “How many times have you been shot?”

“I’m not answering that until you stop crying,” he said, sweeping your hair behind your ears.

That answer did absolutely nothing to comfort you. Huffing, you pressed your lips into a thin white line, “I’m fine,” you whispered, “I’m just crying.”

Spencer smiled at you, “That is an oxymoron, and you know it.” His smile faded, “I’ve been shot three times.”

“Oh my god, Spencer,” you said, dropping your head to his shoulder.

He hummed softly, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple, “Once in the knee, once in the arm, and once in the neck. Please don’t cry.”

You nodded into him, “Yeah, you’re… you’re okay now, right?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?” He asked softly, running his hands along your back.

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, “I love you,” you whispered.

His movements falter for just a moment, “I love you too.”

Pulling away and wiping your eyes, “You should finish grading those papers,” you whispered to him, moving away.

Instead of letting you go, Spencer pulled you closer, “I’ll finish tomorrow. I want to be here with you now,” he responded softly. “Are we okay?”

“Your job scares me,” you answered candidly, “but we’re good. We’re great.”

He nodded self-assuredly, “I can’t change the job, but you could meet my team if you wanted to. Maybe meeting them would make you more comfortable with me going out into the field,” he offered. “And maybe I could…” his voice trailed off as he mumbled something else.

Tilting your head curiously, you hummed in an attempt to prod at him, “Maybe you could what?”

“I could make you my emergency contact. If that’s something you’re comfortable with,” he said. “I’ve never really had anyone to add, but I’m sure Emily wouldn’t mind.”

You smiled softly at him, grateful for every bit he let you in, “I would be honored. Just don’t have any emergencies.”

please like, comment, and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #written by margot #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #dr spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid hurt/comfort #criminal minds hurt/comfort #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot

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theminecraftbee · 1 year

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alright, so, one more thing i've been thinking about during all of this, and apologies, because i normally try to keep my blog fairly discourse-free in the grand scheme of things. but.

there are hermitcraft fans who act irritatingly morally superior about this fandom. i think it's out of some impulse to try to distance yourselves from any other mcyt fandom. it needs to stop.

the worst behavior during the polls was from the hermitcraft fans.

period.

there were so many instances of hermitcraft fans accusing the other side of cheating, of hermitcraft fans making attacks on the character of their guy's opponents, i have heard what i HOPE are isolated reports of racism in the grian/quackity fight (it was genuinely impossible to keep up with the blog's notes that round without both going into a death spiral thanks to the horrible behavior of scar fans during techno/scar and also without losing track instantly of where we were due to the frankly insurmountable volume of notes, so i did not see it, but unfortunately i fully believe it). i have seen people receiving awful asks - saw people being accused of 'betraying' the hermitcraft side due to voting for quackity or techno, for example.

and for a fandom that likes to act like it's better than the other guys, well. the dsmp fans were generally very well behaved in comparison. (shoutout, for example, to quackblr - i saw maybe one or two possible instances of bad behavior, but for as intense as you all were, you all were normally mostly just retaliatory towards whatever energy was thrown at you.) it wasn't supposed "outsiders coming in" that was doing this bad behavior, either.

folks, you can't blame the dsmp when the problem is inside the house. you can't blame twitter users when you're doing it here. you can't blame the reddit when you're the ones throwing the first death threats.

get off your high horses. we're all mcyt fans. we're all having the same fun. get off your high horses. you can hardly claim we're entirely all "unproblematic" when keralis accepted a sponsorship from the wizard game and xisuma periodically gets another round of getting shouted down over something he said on xisumasays. get off your high horses. you can't claim we're the accepting, good behavior fandom, unlike those other guys, when you're the ones causing the problems.

now, as always, i'm sure this is a law of large numbers thing to some extent. as technoblade, wise as he is, said: sometimes when you get a large enough group, you're going to have a few serial killers. but for the amount that hermitblr likes to act better than Those Other Minecraft Fandoms, and those Other Fandom Websites, it wasn't those guys that made me cry.

to be clear, the majority of you have been well-behaved. but there's a persistent tendency in this fandom to act strangely morally superior to other fandoms. and, y'all? you aren't.

you just aren't.

and the sooner you acknowledge that, the less likely this is to happen again, because once you admit that yeah, we can be toxic too? that's when you can start actually looking at yourself and trying not to be.

anyway, sorry again to make this post. i don't want to be a downer, hence why, outside of the official mod statements of "chill the fuck out", i didn't make this until now. (it also helps that i wanted to wait until i was no longer furious, upset, and death spiraling.) i have seen a lot of the best of this fandom over the past two weeks! i've just also, unfortunately, seen some of the worst, and feel the need to make this statement because it's just... been eating at me.

i don't want this to continue to be a trend. i think we can do better. do so.

#discourse #hermitcraft #side note. please don't come into my inbox about this i WILL just delete it (even if you're agreeing with me)#i also don't need a 'sorry this happened' so much as a. idk. i'm making this post so maybe people realize that they're doing this at all #and stop doing it #anyway wanna reiterate: 90% of y'all were nice. the problem is everyone likes to pretend the 10% doesn't exist #and i'm just... tired of that.#so here i am! psa over

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moonstruckme · 5 months

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hope ur having a delightful break bb, lord knows you deserve it!!! <3 i've got a little request for you whenever you're back, if you're interested in writing it - i would love to see poly!marauders with a reader who's high and giggly and they're lightly teasing/they think it's cute!! either way, i'm sending my love and hugs and kisses to u!!! <33

Combined this with: hi lovely !! i hope you’ve had an amazing day/night <33 if you haven’t already (i’m sorry if you did, ignore this if you have !), can you write a poly!marauders x fem reader who loves sea animals and the boys decide to take her to an aquarium? Thank you both for requesting, hope this is alright <33

cw: weed

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 770 words

Sirius is fairly sure this is the best idea he’s ever had. And he will be expecting full credit.

Your eyes are giant and filled to the brim with wonder as you stare into the tank, your face awash in a blue glow that shifts with the water.

“A flamboyant cuttlefish,” you murmur, seemingly to yourself.

Behind you, James squeezes Remus’ hand playfully. “You’re my cuttlefish,” he whispers. Remus groans.

Sirius follows your gaze. “Oh, that thing is ugly.”

“Don’t say that!” You reach back without turning around, smacking his chest lightly with the back of your hand. Your face is split into the same grin that has hardly wavered since the gummy you’d taken first kicked in. “They can change colors whenever they want. You’re totally jealous.”

“And yet it’s chosen shit brown.”

James releases Remus’ hand to come and crouch beside you, tracking the fish’s movements with dilated pupils. “Is that why it’s flamboyant?” he asks you.

You hum happily. “When they’re threatened, they shift colors and move their fins. They’re also highly toxic. So,” you shoot your boyfriend an impish look, “just like Sirius.”

James’ laughter is booming. He takes on the role of your protector, sticking out an arm to ward Sirius off when the other boy grabs for you. Remus shushes them both, shooting apologetic looks towards irritated-looking aquarium patrons.

“Where do you learn all this stuff, dove?” he asks you at a more polite volume. “TV?”

Your grin turns sheepish. James makes heart eyes at you, thumbing at the dimple in your cheek. “Would it make you feel better if I said I read it in a study?”

“A bit, yeah.”

“Too bad.”

You erupt in giggles at your own joke. James tries to catch you when you tip backwards, but instead the both of you go down, your laughter worsening.

“Jesus,” Remus murmurs, shaking his head. He’s doing a poor job hiding his own amusement, though, the scar across his lip stretching as he suppresses a smile.

Sirius snickers as he crouches in front of the two of you. “Having fun?”

“Yeah.” Your grin is lopsided. Dopey. “Thanks for sharing with me. I feel nice.”

“Anytime, gorgeous.”

“I really like weed.”

“Alright,” Remus steps in, hooking his arms under your and James’ armpits to haul you both up, “let’s quiet down about that, love. Go back to looking at the fish.”

“Oh!” you gasp and point. “That one looks just like you, Siri!”

Sirius is about done with this game, he thinks as he stands to peer into the glass. His mouth puckers in distaste. “Thanks,” he stretches out the vowels, making his insincerity heard.

“No, no.” You throw yourself into his side cajolingly. He pretends to ignore you, and you hang off his arm, laughing. “Baby, it’s because it has fine features and it’s, like, glowy. See?”

“It’s a fish,” Remus points out.

James squints, nose nearly touching the glass. “I think I kind of see it,” he says. You nod eagerly. “Why does this fish have cheekbones? Do they usually?”

You shake your head, looking somewhat flummoxed. There’s a cute crinkle between your brows. Remus looks at you curiously.

“Do you know what kind that is?” he asks you.

You frown. “I don’t.”

“Okay,” he says, taking your hand to go to the signs bordering the tank, “let’s find out.”

Sirius is a tad jealous as you lean into Remus’ front, playing with his fingers, but Remus won't be diverted. He scans the placards until he finds it.

“Here, it’s a flashlightfish,” he says quietly. You make a satisfied humming sound, leaning forward to scan the information with eager eyes. “Flashlightfish prefer to stay out of the sun,” Remus reads, “hiding in deeper reef waters during the day. They have small bean-shaped pockets under either eye which are filled with billions of symbiotic bacteria that emit a biochemical light.” Sirius lets the words filter in one ear and out the other, but you’re rapt. Your wide eyes shift from the placard to the fish itself, watching as its light winks in and out. “This light is used to evade predators as well as for a visual Morse code to attract mates and communicate within schools of fish.”

Sirius watches as the two of you stand there for a minute, Remus’ arms slung loosely over your front as blue light from the tank dances over you both.

“You could do audiobooks,” you tell Remus. Your voice is chock full of sincerity. “You’ve got the voice for it.”

He chuckles, setting his chin on your head fondly. “You think so?”

“Mhm.”

“Thanks, dove.”

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anantaru · 1 year

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— favorite spot you kiss them on

including albedo, scaramouche, zhongli, al-haitham x gn! reader

genre: fluff, kissing, a little heated

— albedo

frankly, albedo was quite keen on any place you would place your lips on, really didn't matter to him where.

yet, well, when you quietly settle on his lap, he'd first be reluctant to pull you close to him, not that he doesn't want to of course, because you see, he was of a shy nature in that precise facet.

no matter how reserved he was, he after a while, will gather you close to his chest so you could easily place your head on his shoulder, lowly drifting your eyes through his otherworldly, handsome features.

your index finger rotated over his clothed collarbones before dancing over the edge of his shirt, gently hooking your digit into the garment to meet his bare neck.

"you look tired, 'bedo." you speak and he lightly tilted his head, allowing you to proceed.

"no matter, i'm almost finished my research for this day."

on a warm huff, he fairly nudged your head a little as his body shivered at the trifling lace of your warm breathing on his neck, right on top of his birthmark, the sign which was particularly precious and personal to him.

with your touch, you fade into his occupied thoughts, more so when a single finger brushed over the edges of his birthmark, tracing the symbol along his trembling skin. "we should cook together today."

you spin your finger teasingly, pulling it away before suffocating the distance from your lips to his neck, plastering a featherlight peck.

"alright, we will."

albedo held tighter on you now, his adams apple stiffly bobbing against his throat with each kiss you gifted him.

as your venture continued, his body was on the brink of falling limp, your lips were fitting and warm on top of his flesh, thoroughly occupying the deeply sensitive spot on him.

now, his head was steadily laid against yours, embracing a new version of intimacy on each other and relaxing, cozying up until albedo finished the last work load of the day.

— scaramouche

given scaramouche's prior hard comings, he had a troubling time with permitting someone close to him.

in nearly every instance in the past, his body would flinch at each touch from you, but after all, scaramouche was sure you were the one, it stung in him, that very emotion only you brought out right from within.

or perhaps he had just become more acquainted with you and the notion of subtle intimacy, now being the one to normally approach it first.

you were glowing and he couldn't see himself get satiated by your looks alone, not when your warm palms were gathering his trembling cheeks, drawing him near you.

garnering him, your heart stammered, your lips a hairbreadth parted from a burning euphoria.

you placed a lenient, subtle kiss on his forehead, following closely, you leaned yourself back to sweetly nudge his nose before ultimately, connecting to his cold lips.

scaramouche melted into you right away, he practically stumbled forward, that's how much he was anticipating that moment from you.

a light wrinkle converged on his forehead as he concentrated more than he should, essentially still wobbly on his offer to your call, holding his breath and giving himself up to you.

a kiss, close yet subtle, nothing more than that, as you in a trice, broke away with a relaxing, warm smile, eyes linking up promptly.

he flickered down his eyes to your lips again, feebly setting his palm on your cheek when he set his thumb on top of your mouth, without hurrying, tracing from left corner to the right corner.

dedicating his voice to one last question, he spoke, "can i kiss you this time?"

— zhongli

the specific gut feeling in the pits of zhongli's stomach whenever you touched and held him within reach, transpired an intimate reaction on him.

either way, as meticulous as it was, it wouldn't compare to his most dearest spot, his hands and scars.

weightless, that's how your touch felt on him, as you carefully dragged each hand out of his leather gloves, placing the material on the side.

they're pretty and calloused, his fingers were slender and clean but slightly rough around the edges. Besides, a simple touch and caress, was all the more personal with the right person.

it was only you he desired, he cradled with his palms when you too, closed the distance to have them in your hands.

before anything, you will gently brush your thumbs over each knuckle and ridge, tracing the muscles and faint lines of his silken skin, small scars becoming visible in the margins.

overwhelmed with your devotion and care, zhongli did not speak, rather did he give rein to you because his soul understood, perceived and accepted you.

"you have a few scars there." you pointed out the obvious, wiggling your thumb over a pretty abused spot that didn't heal entirely, it must've been of a peculiar, dangerous memory.

sitting upright in front of you, zhongli beheld his gaze on your face, a modest smile whittling on the corners of his mouth.

"yes, but i do not remember where i have gotten it from."

his head plummeted to the side as if he was striving to find an answer as you quietly laughed in return, bit by bit, bringing the scars to your parted lips.

the usual tense muscles in his shoulders relaxed while surveying his eyes on you, paying attention to your further steps.

once assembling his hand towards your face, you delicately smothered each and every scar, offering every blemish the same desiring treatment.

your eyes glared at him from under your lashes, earnestly asking, "how does that feel to you?"

his mouth began to tremble and twitch at the profound sensation of closeness shared right this second.

"it appeals to me."

his warm breathing was expelled from his throat at his sincere admittance, "quite a lot."

this alone had prevented zhongli to say anything at all after his last spoken words, rather he was sure that it was you who could make him feel alive and flourishing again— after all those years he had lived and perceived himself as numb.

— al-haitham

with how alhaitham would normally hold himself in front of other individuals, he was uncharacteristically different with you, at least uncommonly for people who did not know him.

offering his warm welcome to you after arriving to your home from work, you accepted his call and nurtured his tired muscles.

averse from his usual approach, with you, al-haitham's confidence could suffer from your exhilarating, familiar aura surrounding his body.

his gaze shortly lifted to you as you nudged yourself into his neck, gathering his musky, earthy scent in your nostrils. His heartbeat was steady and hammered in a calm manner, vibrating through your skin.

you listened to his every word and breathing, certainly was, that like this, you were more private and dear than almost in any other occasion.

with how close as you were, your lips garnered the courage to plant a sweet kiss along his jaw, lowly nibbling on the thin skin.

al-haitham didn't reply to your gesture, additionally he was pleased and fancied by those subtle touches.

you urged him while never faltering your main aim on his shivering flesh, "tell me more about your day."

one of your hands were located right above his strong chest, where his heart was firmly pummeling in. He found comfort in you, his vigorous arm now entirely winded around you.

"there's not much to tell other than plenty of headaches."

at this, you laughed, consoling his weary, sleepy expression, lingering persistence applying on your featherlight kisses on the underside of jaw, never floundering your attention, essentially sinking to his neck at last to continue.

"leave it to me baby." you speak, tracing your hand down the rills of his stomach, up and down, up and down, "just relax for me, okay?"

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starstruckmiraclekitty · 1 year

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1-4-1 + Horangi and Konig, helping their crush out when she approaches them in a bar asking them to pretend to be her boyfriend because a strange guy had been following her around all night. Please? I like your writing.

Oooh, yes, I can do this! I've never written for Horangi before, so bear with me!!🩵

141 + König & Horangi Pretending To Be Readers Boyfriend To Help Her

Warnings: reader being uncomfortable, unwanted advances, physical violence, swearing

Simon Ghost Riley-

The guy had been staring at you all night. No matter where you went, his eyes followed you everywhere.

You walked up to the bar to get another drink for yourself when you saw him get up from the corner of your eye and started to make his way toward you.

There was a fairly attractive gentleman to your right, and you acted quickly. You tapped him on the shoulder softly. "I'm so sorry to bother, that gentleman back there has been staring at me all night making me really uncomfortable, and now he's coming over here, could you possibly just act like you're my boyfriend?"

The man turned to you before catching sight of the greasy man coming toward you and gave you a firm nod. He stood to his full height, towering over you as the other man approached.

"Hey baby, I've been watching you all night. Can I buy you a drink and maybe take you out?" The greasy man gave a sickening smile, making your insides churn. You instinctively gripped onto the handsome man's arm tightly.

"She's with me. So I suggest you back off." The man's voice was incredibly deep, with a thick Manchester accent.

The greasy man gave a sneer before looking back to you. "Haven't seen you with this fella at all tonight. Are you sure he's yours?"

"I said, I suggest you back off. She's not interested. Now scram." The Manchester man's voice could cut knives, but the man wasn't backing down.

"I'm just saying your little pet here has quite the body. It's not such a bad thing to share, is it?" He walked closer, clearly under the influence as any sane man would've ran from the way the tall man was looking at him.

"Look, mate. You've got about 5 seconds before I smash this glass across your face, and I'll make sure it leaves scars." The Manchester man's voice was eerily calm, and it clearly worked on the other man, as he audibly gulped and ran for the door.

You let out a shaky sigh of relief and loosened your hold on the man's arm, turning to him.

"Oh, thank you so much. He was making me really uncomfortable, and I'm not super great at standing my ground." Your cheeks flushed under the man's intense gaze. "I'm so sorry to bother."

"It's no issue at all. I'm happy to have helped." He gave you a ghost of a smile before finishing off the last of his bourbon.

"Can I buy you a round, as a thank you?" You asked, your tone hopeful.

"Nah." He started, and your shoulders slumped slightly in defeat. "Wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I had you pay. What're you having?" He gestured to the unoccupied seat beside him, the same ghost of a smile on his face. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't caught sight of you earlier. You were a sight to behold, and the fact that you were now sitting beside him had his insides warming.

"Whatever you are." You smiled, sitting in the unoccupied seat next to him. "I'm Y/N, by the way."

"Simon. You drink bourbon?"

"Prefer Kentucky if I'm honest." You said shyly.

Simon's eyes lit up at your admission. Nobody in his life ever liked Kentucky. "Good taste."

The two of you remained there for what felt like hours, conversation flowing naturally between you. He'd told you very little about himself, but just enough to keep you intrigued. You were quick to develop a little crush on him, and unbeknownst to you, he was planning on asking for your number before you both parted ways.

König-

You were a close friend of Roze's and had met Konig a few times in passing. There was something about you, that had his cheeks heating from under his hood, and his word's always coming out as a jumbled mess whenever he tried to talk to you.

It was Roze's birthday, and you and a few members of Kortac had gone to her favorite bar to celebrate.

There was a guy who'd followed you from the last bar you were at earlier, and he was now sitting across from you, making you quite uncomfortable. You knew it was only a matter of time before he tried to approach you.

You turned to your right and saw one of Rozes teammates König (who you may have harbored a small crush on) sitting to your right, and you touched his shoulder gently.

"Konig, could I ask a huge favor? Could you possibly pretend to be my boyfriend? That guy over there has been following me all night, and it's starting to scare me." You rubbed at your arms nervously, as you watched the man from the corner of your eyes.

Konig's heart dropped at the tone of your voice and followed your gaze to a sneering man in the corner, who's eyes were fixated on you. The man's eyes shifted to Konig and gave a taunting smile before returning his gaze back to you.

König squeezed your hand gently, signaling it was okay. You stayed by König's side for a few minutes before the man decided to make his move. He walked over toward you, a wicked grin forming on his lips as he approached. "Evening, hot stuff."

You swallowed thickly and steadied yourself on König, who was now standing to his full height. "I'd recommend backing off, sir."

"I'm just coming to say hello. This fine young thing looked rather lonely. Thought I'd offer my...company." The man had said with a wink.

"She's not lonely. She's with me. Now, again, back off." Königs voice was laced with vitriol, but the man didn't seem phased.

"Why don't you join me, sweetheart. I can probably show you a better time than this guy. I could do quite a few memorable things to you." He gave a sadistic smirk to you.

König pushed you behind him gently, his hand hovering over your hip as reassurance. "I. Said. Back. Off. I can snap your bones in half more easily than you think. Don't tempt me, because I'd quite enjoy it."

The man held his hands up in mock innocence as he walked away. "Fine. Whatever. It's not worth my time anyway."

You took a deep breath as you tried to control your shaking hands. "T-thanks König. I really appriciate it. I don't think I could've handled that alone."

König turned to you with a soft smile. "You don't need to thank me, Maus."

"Maus?" You asked. Your German was limited to what you'd learned in primary school, so you were confused on what he'd called you.

The tips of König's ears turned pink as he mumbled slightly. "O-oh, it's mouse."

You gave a small giggle. "I quite like that. May.. may I offer you a coffee? There's a little shop right next door that has good sweets. They're open late."

König felt his heart skip a beat at the hopeful look in your eyes. You wanted to spend time with him? "I'd love that."

Your face lit up at his words, and you were quick to wrap your hand around his bicep. "Great! My treat."

You led the way to the coffee shop, and you and König had spent hours there until they closed. He'd insisted on walking you to your apartment, and you refused to let him leave until you made plans for your next "date." To say König had a smile that could light up all of Austria as he left your flat that night, would be an understatement.

Horangi-

Horangi had been subtly watching you all night. You were rather cute to him, but what caught his attention was the fact that you looked very uncomfortable. There was a gentleman who'd been continuously making passes at you and your group of friends, and it was clear it was unwanted.

The man had whistled to get your attention, and you looked over to him. You gave an awkward half smile and returned to the conversation your friends were having. You turned your attention discreetly back to the gentleman when you'd heard some fairly sexual remarks being said about you. Your cheeks reddened from embarrassment at what was being said. You finished off your drink and made your way to get a drink from the bar, and your stomach dropped when you saw the guy approaching.

You quickly turned to Horangi, your hands shaking slightly as you tapped on his shoulder gently. "Hi there, could I bother you a moment?"

Horangi turned to you, his smile dropping when he saw the panicked look on your face. "Yes of course, are you alright miss?"

"I'm... yes. Sorry that guy is bothering me, and I'm just trying to get a drink. Actually... could I ask you to pretend to be my boyfriend for just a few minutes until he leaves?" You asked, speaking at a brisk pace.

"Absolutely, yes." He nodded, as watched as the man approached you.

"Hey, sweetheart. Haven't seen you around here often. Wanted to invite you over to drink with my buddies and I. Could use a nice little piece of ass at our table." He gave a satisfied smile as he watched your expressions.

"S-sorry, I have a boyfriend, actually." You muttered meekly. Horangi watched as the drunk man walked closer to you, a sickening smirk on his lips.

"Haven't seen him around here. Not wise for your boyfriend to leave you unattended." He stopped just close enough for you to smell the strong alcohol on his breath.

"I'm her boyfriend, and I suggest you back the hell off her." Horangi stood, and the drunk man backed up with his hands up in a defensive gesture.

"Whatever. Don't want a slag like you anyway." The drunk man huffed before walking away.

You breathed a sigh of relief and turned to the tall man, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Thank you so so much."

Horangi blushed at the contact, his eyes trailing to where your hand was resting. "It's not a problem. Are you okay, now?"

You gave a nod, running your hand along the backside of your neck. "Oh yeah, I'm good." You felt a sudden burst of confidence coursing through you with the way he was looking at you. "Could I maybe make it up to you by taking you out for dinner? If you're not seeing anyone, that is. I'm Y/N, by the way."

Horangi's heart was beating rapidly as he processed your words. You were interested in him? "I'm Horangi I'd love that."

The two of you spoke for a while longer before exchanging numbers. You were quite giddy, as you made plans to hang out the next day.

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

Johnny was infatuated with you. You'd recently joined the team as a medic, and he hadn't had much of a chance to talk to you lately. You had such a carefree attitude and he couldn't help but be drawn to you.

He was sitting with Simon and Gaz at a local pub on a Friday night, drinking away a long day when his eyes fell on you. You were with a group of friends laughing away, and he felt his insides grow warm at the sound.

He'd watched as you stood and made your way to the bar, his stomach dropping as he saw a sniveling drunk man follow you, his eyes latched onto your ass.

It was almost instinct, as Johnny stood up telling the boys he was "going to get another round". He stalked over to you and the man, and his blood began to boil as he saw the look of clear discomfort on your face.

"Sir. I have a boyfriend I'm sorry." You said, your voice shaking slightly.

"I dont see one. Just you and your pretty little friends." The man weaseled his way closer to you, and you nearly gagged at the smell of his rancid breath. You turned your head and spotted a familiar mohawked scot next to you, your eyes meeting his.

"This is my boyfriend, actually." You stated matter of factly, and Johnny's cheeks turned slightly pink at the thought.

Shaking his head of those thoughts, he stood closer to you, placing a comforting hand on your hip. "Just getting a drink, babe? This guy bothering you?"

You turned to Johnny with a nod, your eyes screaming a thousand thank you's to him. Johnny got the hint and walked over to the man. "They're taken. Suggest you take a hint and look elsewhere, man."

The man gave a sinister smile before muttering "slag" under his breath and walking away from the two of you. It took everything in Johnny not to go shove his fist in his face.

You took a deep breath, relief flooding your system before giving Johnny a grateful smile. "Thank you so much, Soap. I'm sorry about that, the men here can be...persistent, and not in a good way."

Johnny gave a chuckle. "Persistence isn't always a bad thing. I'm happy I could assist, though. The guy was a creep."

You bit your lip softly, the alcohol making your brain just a bit fuzzy as you slipped out words that had Johnny's eyes widening.

"You're right. It's not always a bad thing. It just depends on the guy. Some guys here, though, I wouldn't mind trying to pick me up." You let your eyes rake along his body before giving him a sly wink. "Specially Scots with Mohawks."

Johnny was at a loss for words, his usual flirty banter being lost on him in that moment. He let out a weak "yes" as his tongue subconsciously wet his lips.

You gave a small giggle and turned to the bar tender. "Two drinks, please. I'll have a gin and tonic, and whatever he's having."

Johnny began to protest, but you'd silenced him. "Let me buy you a drink, Sargent. It's the least I can do to repay you."

And who was Johnny to say no? He was your "boyfriend" afterall.

John Price-

You were Laswells assistant. You'd been introduced to the boys only a few weeks prior, and that was just long enough for John to develop a small crush on you. You were professional, smart, and had a witty attitude that John couldn't help but fall for.

The 6 of you had found yourselves at a pub for the night, celebrating one of the most recent victories of the team. He couldn't help it, as his eyes continuously followed you, everywhere you went. You held such an aura of confidence, it naturally drew a bunch of unwanted attention at the bar.

One man, in particular, kept his eyes trained on you. He'd tried to talk to you earlier at the bar, and you did your best to brush away his advances before returning to your table. John could clearly see the discomfort in your eyes.

"Are you okay?" He'd asked, eyes searching your face.

"Yeah. Yeah, that guy's just giving me weird vibes." You gave a half smile before returning to your drink.

John made a note to pay close attention to the man the rest of the night.

It wasn't until later on that night that you'd stood and went to the restroom, and John saw red when he saw the man follow you into the restroom.

He stood abruptly, nearly causing the table to fall over before making his way to the bathroom. He pushed the door open with force to find you being shoved against the wall by the man.

"John!" You'd cried out. "Sir, please, this is my boyfriend. Please leave me alone."

The man gave a horrid laugh as he spared a glance in John's direction. "Surely you don't mind if I get a piece of the action."

John seethed, his nostrils flaring slightly as his anger blinded him. He stepped a few inches closer to the man before connecting his fist to the man's face.

The man let out a strangled cry as he dropped to the floor, clutching his cheek. You looked up at John with tears in your eyes and were quick to scurry over to him.

John wrapped his arm around your waist. "I've got you babe."

He led you out of the bathroom, back to your table, before telling the team he was heading out for the night. It didn't take a scientist to figure out what had happened, as they watched the man come out clutching his cheek, and your crying form.

The two of you walked outside, the fresh air providing an immense relief for you as you regained your senses. "Thank you, John. I owe you."

"Don't owe me anything, love. Are you okay?" He turned to you, his previously hardened eyes softening. You blinked up at him with a small smile, before engulfing the man in a hug.

"I am now."

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

You were a newer recruit to the 141. The boys had all fallen in love with you and were glad for you being the new addition, especially Kyle, who'd had a small crush on you.

There were a few of you that had gone to the local bar for the night, and you found yourself in the corner of the bar with one of your friends.

There was a group of gentlemen at the table next to you who were making overly sexual remarks about you. You and your friend got rather uncomfortable and tried to make your way over to the 141 boys.

The group in the corner had followed your every move and began to cat call from their table. You shook slightly as you walked up to Kyle.

"Hey Kyle. Do you mind possibly acting like you're my boyfriend? Those guys have been following me around all night, and my friend just went to the bathroom."

"Sure thing, those guys in the corner?" He asked, eyeing up the group of men.

You gave a nod, not daring to look back at the men.

The boys at the table all eyed up the men who were approaching. The one who'd initiated the comments stood forward, with a smile on his face. "Evening, gents, mind if we borrow this little cutie for a bit?"

"She's taken." Kyle stood, puffing out his chest. "Best, try your luck elsewhere."

The men stood defensively, clearly not backing down. The man who spoke first gave a hearty chuckle. "Taken doesn't mean anything anymore, mate. Let us take her off your hands for awhile."

Kyle walked right up to the man, his face inches from his. "Touch my girlfriend, and my buddies and I will throw all of you out on your ass."

Ghost approached from behind you, casting a menacing glare in their direction. "Try it."

The men clearly knew better than to pick a fight with them and went about their business. Not before, however one of them made a crude remark about you.

Kyle grabbed the man's arm and twisted it. "Say it again, I dare you."

The man ripped his arm from Kyle's grasp and ran back to his buddies in the corner.

"Are you okay?" Kyle asked, moving to sit back next to you.

You nodded, regaining your composure as you gave Kyle a smile. "Thank you, I don't want to know what would've happened if you guys hadn't stepped in."

"Of course, it's what we are here for." He squeezed your shoulder gently.

You sat and thought for a moment before speaking in a hushed tone. "Would you want to get out of here? There's a good burger place down the road. Kind of over the bar scene right now anyway."

Kyle gave you a wide smile before standing, offering his hand to you. "I'd be a fool to say no to that."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope this was okay! 🙂 still tryna work through my writers block!

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lamentofabramo · 2 months

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Can I get an NSFW alphabet for Tobias Rogers (ticci toby) 🫶

I've been doing a bigger piece, so I might as well do something smaller like this since it's been a good while since I've posted now. (oops)

I'm basing this less on the fandom vers of him, hopefully.

Didn't proofread this much. (edit: I feel bad that I didn't acknowledge the heart, so <3 of course you can doll)

MINORS DNI

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Toby obviously is one of the more caring of the creepypasta's, of course that's a low bar, but he is considerably more human than some of them. He's still gruff and fairly untalkative after the deed, yet he'd offer some water before leaving if you were just a one-off/ casual fuck.

If you were his partner however, I'd imagine he'd be more caring, still untalkative and unaffectionate, but maybe he'd hold you or hold your hand in this. Of course, he'd blame this on being unable to properly feel what he's holding, but the slow decrease in his twitches as he holds you speaks a lot more than he ever will. He's not comfortable, but he feels slightly less stress in your presence, at least until he has to leave, his mind penetrated by the voice of the foreboding presence of the ever-taller man.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) His own favourite body part would probably be his arms, he was a scrawny kid for most of his life, but you sure would start gaining muscle if you swung your axe at people who you considered worthy of it. There's probably also some scars across his arms that remind him of his life before. Of course, he'd hate that idea, but he still has some attachment to his sister, his mother, no matter how hard he may try to push it out of his head.

For his favourite part of his partners, I feel like it'd most likely be your waist. It's something for him to grab, to hold onto to remember you're real, that you're still alive against his better judgement.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) If you asked for it in a specific place, sure he'd do it if he was in a good mood. On your chest, ass, inside even. He'd risk it, he had nothing to truly lose anyway. But his favourite place would most likely be on your stomach, just the wet streaks across your stomach would do things for him. He's not sure why either, he wouldn't register that he does that almost every time unless you pointed it out to him.

If you did, he'd probably consider why for a second, his eyes widening in realization before shrugging. "Any better ideas?" he'd mumble, absently listening as he stroked himself. Toby would listen if you told him anywhere else, but… his eyes focused on that smooth surface.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) He secretly wants to push the boundaries of his condition. He wants your hands around his neck, trying to choke him until it hurt. It was strange really, he had a high pain tolerance, yet he craved this pain. Maybe it was because he wanted to be normal, maybe not. He didn't want to think too hard on it, like many other things he just shrugged at the idea and continued with his life.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) Toby was definitely not an experienced guy, even before the accident where he finally became 'free' (If you could say being slenderman's lackey was free) the most he'd done was hold hands with a girl in primary school.

He wouldn't be insecure with it however, he never viewed himself as a sexual being, the most he'd ever fucked was his fist on particularly rough nights. Sure, he'd had crushes on women, but when you become a serial killer you go one of two ways. A sex maniac or a complete recluse. Unfortunately, Toby became the latter.

However, since he had a less than regular childhood, he was never able to go through the same sexual awakenings as many of his peers. Instead, that most likely came later, so when he met you he was awkward, like a teenage boy. Most of his language is through grumbles and grunts anyway.

When he realized you were stuck in his head it all changed though, his sex drive increased massively. His poor hand.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying) Cowgirl probably rocks his world, he loves that intense eye contact that comes with it. The way he looks up at you through his fringe, his mouth slightly open as he pants and grunts, is a reward in itself. However, he would get impatient, his hips thrusting up to meet yours or his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you down further on his cock.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) If something was funny to him, then he'd smirk, like if you hid your body from him even though he was about to be deep inside of you.

When he gets further into the activity, he'd let out breathless laughs, sometimes blaming that on his tics. He couldn't help it, though, he loved the way you responded to him.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Toby probably doesn't care much about how groomed he is, sometimes he'll shave, but other than that he's got whatever going on.

He has a small happy-trail up to his belly button though, it shows when he raises his axe too high. It's a dark brown colour, just like his hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect) He's probably not particularly intimate, maybe some words here or there if he feels like it, but don't overestimate him too much. He probably came inside you before he kissed you.

His cheeks pinken slightly whenever you suggest kissing, but he quickly slouches and looks away with an almost childish pout to pretend as though he doesn't care.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Like I said in the earlier one, sure he jacked off every now and again, but it was more so a way to pass the time, to get some serotonin in his ever-pleasant life. But when he gets fixated on something, or rather in your case, someone, his sex drive spikes. He wants you in his hands, in his vice, it frustrates him, so he takes this frustration out on himself.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) He's probably degrading, mixed with praise. He's basically up for anything. He's killed someone, I'm sure a weird kink won't kill him.

However, if he does think your kinks are unusual he will take the piss out of you for it, teasing, but he still takes part in it. Its fun.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do) Wherever you want, he's not arsed, really. Against a tree sounds the most fun.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) As cheesy as this sounds, you. Maybe some aggression on your side would get him going too, that mouth of yours was lethal sometimes.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs) Like I said before, he's practically up for anything. He might not be physically aggressive for you too much, though, it'd remind him of his past.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) He's a munch, if he's in the mood enough, he could probably cum from giving you head. He'd deny that though, God that'd be embarrassing.

Not only that, but he'd receive too, no doubt, Toby would find it fun to just gently tug your head up and down on his cock.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.) Toby would probably be slow but deep if he's teasing you. But if he's just fucking you, then it'd be fast, his hands pulling you down on his cock with faster speed.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Hell yeah brother. Just give him the words, he might tease you for it, but he'd never say no (unless he's in a more depressive mood).

He'd love to fuck you in the back of his car too, or masky's car. Just for the hell of it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.) He's a risky guy, but surprisingly, he wouldn't do anything that could get him potentially caught by the law. He's on the run for a reason, he's not willing to risk his freedom for a good fuck (sometimes).

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?) He'd probably like to overstimulate slightly, 2/3 rounds before he's clocked out and completely dry. He'd last an average enough time, 20 minutes normally.

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?) Seeing your body twitch with something that isn't him would make him jealous. However, a little vibrator never hurt anyone. He'd tease you if you had any dildos or anything, though, asking pettily if he "wasn't enough" or that you were "stretching yourself out" for him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Big tease, but he always fulfils your wants. It may take a while, though.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) The only noise he really makes is grunting and whispers on how dirty you are. He's loud enough that you can hear him, but not loud enough for it to be a full-blown moan.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) He does want to see how you'd look crying for him all bloodied up, most likely someone else's blood, but he's not picky. Maybe fucking you on top of a recently deceased.

But he'd never admit that.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) An average to slightly bigger man, About 6.4 inches. Probably measured it one time when he was bored, and he hung onto the .4 for his ego.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) Not too high unless you exist, then…as much as he can get his hands on you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) He doesn't sleep much after it, doesn't feel comfortable sleeping in front of others, even someone like you. His nightmares don't help.

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #ticci toby #tobias erin rogers #tobias rogers #smut alphabet #x reader #ticci toby x reader #toby rogers

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justathingfromthebrainvoid · 6 months

Text

Okay so Gem throughout Secret Life (and also the one episode in Limited Life) has been so fascinating for several reasons. (hello i'm back, yes this is the brain rotates the gem post, welcome.)

so first off everyone is fairly Aware of her pvp prowess, GeminiSlay is a name they know. So for the most part, no one tries to fight her. She's brought down by fighting blazes & an enderman, the red horde going after everyone (them fighting back) and eventually Scar's bow, and then by and large Grian's tnt minecarts before Pearl and Scar together kill her in a 2 v 1 fight (that for the 1st part mostly-ish bows, something she isn't quite as good at). People talk about how they don't want to fight Gem. Not unless they have to.

This affords her a level of safety. If they're scared of fighting you, they don't go after you.

And then she's the New person. She's the only New Person. She's cheery and happy even as she goes on her murdering sprees. Even Lizzie and Mumbo, not back since Last Life, have a different edge to them and then they're out so quickly they don't reach the line where the server goes into murder and betrayal. Cleo says it in the last session: Gem doesn't know what is about to happen.

And she doesn't. Not in the way everyone else does. It is a murder game, and Gem treats it as such, but she doesn't get the weight of what happens in those last sessions.

She loses her first life and is mildly bloodthirsty, she opens the end, sends in greens in hopes of getting more yellows, she gets a task that says kill every non red at least once and does so without hesitance, she turns red, succeeds 5 red tasks in her next episode and gets her two teammates to sacrifice themselves to her along with killing Pearl, and she smiles throughout the entire thing.

When the last session starts she's happy, ready to go out and murder some more people, and sure it's a bit "erie" and "quiet", but she's having a great time on the murder camel, looking for Skizz, figuring out how they can kill Etho/Cleo/Grian.

The other players Know what's about to happen, and she doesn't. Scott stays with her almost the entire episode. He knows what's going to happen. He already decided how he's going to die.

And then they come back from the Nether and Gem loses about 30 of her hearts, she panics slightly and a bit more when she finds Grian behind a wall (alone and down a bunch of hearts her first thought is run), but she goes back to the fight, kills Grian herself, and, oh, it's only them and the mounders left, time for the last battle apparently. She tries getting her murder buddy on their side again but Pearl refuses and it's not like she's leaving the Scotts, so they shoot arrows and run around the server a bit before retreating up the stairs back to their base. Pearl shoots her, Impulse dies, and Gem is starting to think they are going to as well (it's fine, that's what the game's about), but Bdubs and Joel are killed pretty easily and then she and Scott are running again (run, shoot, run again, why'd it have to be a bow fight?), there's a close call with Scar (it's fine, she gets away, where's Scott though?).

But I don't think she really gets it yet. Not until she joins back up with Scott and the first thing he says is "I need you to kill me. I've got 2.5 hearts, you need to kill me." And Scott throws items at her, food and an end crystal, and takes off his armour and Pearl and Scar aren't far behind...

Gem doesn't even get time to process. Pearl and Scar weren't far behind. She runs and fights and holds her own even in a 2v1, but it doesn't matter.

Gem is the new person. And she makes it all the way to 3rd, she's proud of that, should be proud of that. But she only thought of it as a fun murder game right up until Scott died. Sacrificed himself for her.

#trafficblr #secret life #secret life spoilers #geminitay #i don't know #just... That Moment in the session did something and i think that's when she really Got it #the life series are murder games but they're also More #every member has had a moment or two where it hit them and I think Gem didn't right up until nearly the end

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accioprocrastination · 2 months

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One Day At A Time (part 7/?)

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Hangman's fiancée goes home

T/W: death, anxiety, panic disorder, PTSD, POW, gun violence, hints to torture

Reader POV

I’m not even 100% sure this is the right way. You think to yourself as you trudge through the rain. You shiver at the feeling of water pouring down your face as you stop to try and get your bearings.

It’s so fucking dark.

No one approaches you in the hours it takes to reach your street. To everyone else it probably looks like you’ve broken out of some form of asylum. You know your face looks like shit and your hospital gown and stolen coat are definitely not helping the situation.

What if he moved?

It's been years for him since we were together.

I could open that door to another family.

Or he could have a new family in my house.

You force yourself to stop asking questions that you don’t know the answer to as you approach your street.

His car isn’t here – shit maybe he has moved and I’m about to go scare the daylights out of whatever family has moved into my house.

You kneel down and start looking for the fake rock that holds the spare key.

You’re fairly sure that if any neighbours are seeing this, the cops are being called.

When you unlock the door you're surprised to see that it looks the exact same as in your memories.

He hasn't changed it.

"Jake?" You call out to no response. He's the world's lightest sleeper, so he's not here.

You close the door quietly behind you and make your way upstairs, your footsteps barely make a sound as you tiptoe straight into the main bathroom to shower.

This doesn't feel real.

I don't know what I'm going to do if I'm daydreaming this.

Letting out a shaky breath you strip out of your attire and actually see what they’ve done to you by looking in the mirror.

You feel teary at the reality of how bad you look: you know you’re too skinny, but the bruises, the scarring – it’s like it’s someone else looking back at you.

Your skin feels dirty when you think about everything they’ve done and so you jump into the shower for an obscenely long time to try to block it out.

That tactic doesn’t work and within seconds you’re thinking about the god-awful sounds of Ghost choking in the backseat of the plane.

I failed him.

My backseater is dead because I didn’t know how to get out of that situation.

You feel sick as the guilt starts to hit you.

Your thoughts are interrupted when someone starts banging on the bathroom door. You instantly look around to see what you can use as a weapon - not really thinking that whoever is on the other side might not be a threat.

"Jake open the door. Where did you run off to so fast that you left your phone and your house keys you idiot." A familiar voice bellows through the door.

You know that whoever is on the other side of the door is someone from your past, but you can't place it to know that they won't beat the shit out of you if you unlock the door.

Wrapping yourself in a towel you search the cupboard for something you can use.

"Jake I know you can hear me!" Their fist continues to pound on the door making you flinch.

You stay silently shaking, hoping that whoever it is will decide to leave you alone.

That hope is very short-lived as more fists bang on the door.

Javy grabs Rooster's fist an inch from the door at the sound of a quiet sniffle.

"That's not Jake." he states confused.

You trust that you recognise the voice and wipe your face from the tears before unlocking the door.

"Not Jake." you say simply as you hesitantly open the bathroom door.

There's five confused looking faces staring back at you. The only one you recognise is Coyote.

"You're dead. You died." His voice breaks.

"Jesus." someone else mutters from the group but you feel to overwhelmed to notice which one.

You shake your head slightly which results in a wave of nausea and dizziness.

Your shoulders tense up to your ears when Javy tries to hug you. He looks beyond hurt when you duck away from his touch.

"Don't" you say to him, not wanting anyone to touch you right now.

"I guess this explains why Jake left in a rush." A pretty woman remarks.

"Is Jake-" Your voice is raspy when you try and speak up but you're so overwhelmed with questions that don't even know what to ask first.

Javy reads the perplexity on your face and answers everything you didn't ask, "He is fine but he's been a mess without you. He's been a workaholic since whatever happened. He's not dated anyone; he's not really gone out unless I've forced him to. This is the first time he's let anyone else from work over."

You're too dizzy to nod and too exhausted to talk.

"Shouldn't she be in the hospital or something?" The guy with the terrible glasses remarks.

You ignore him and walk into the main bedroom - closing the door behind you.

"I'm going to kick the others out." Javy promises you through the door.

Your anxiety is sky high as you begin opening draws trying to remember what goes where.

You ruffle through what looks like a draw of miscellaneous stuff and pull on some black joggers. You have to tighten the waist strings before you open the wardrobe in search of a t-shirt.

I don't remember there being so many draws in this place - there's loads at the bottom of the wardrobe.

Eventually you find a black t-shirt with text that you don't bother to read before you painfully shove it over your head and force your broken arm into it.

Jake POV -

Jake closes the front door in defeat. He's spent the best part of the night driving around trying to find you and a few hours in a police station reporting you as a missing person.

"What the actual fuck?" Phoenix says stepping into the corridor bag in hand.

"What?" Jake responds confused as to what she's getting at.

"Nova is upstairs." Javy states appearing with a glass of water and soup.

"Where?" Jake asks taking the tray from Coyote's hands.

"Your room. Everyone is just packing up their stuff - we'll be out of here in a minute." Javy states.

Jake stops dead in his tracks as he sees a wet footprint on the carpet leading upstairs. You must've spent fucking hours walking barefoot in the rain to get here. Jake shudders at the thought of you having to do that.

His concentration is broken by a recognisable clatter upstairs.

Striding upstairs quickly, he stops before the bedroom door to assure you, "It's okay if you just knocked the shelf off. It does that now, I just haven’t got round to fixing it." Jake says.

"Can I come in Sweets?" he asks putting a hand over the doorhandle. “It’s Jake.” He adds nervous that you might not recognise his voice.

Jake doesn't see your flinch through the door at the sound of his nickname for you.

It takes you a minute of hesitating before you risk opening to door - still unsure of whether to trust yourself that he is here.

Jake stands pencil straight and quickly adjusts his jacket as he hears the floorboards creek.

"Hey." He says voice quavering in relief.

"Hi." You respond voice gravelly.

Masterlist

Previous part in case you missed it

Tags:

@inthestars-underthesun

@rainy-darling

@emma8895eb

@tgmreader

@ems-alexandra

@djs8891

@els-marvelvsp

@lets-turn-and-burn

@mxdi0

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sapphia · 1 year

Text

limited life was the best roleplay series for me by far. everyone was just so good at playing into people's bits. the improvised nature of it made it so fun, and barring the odd moment, it truly didn't feel like people were starting much drama for drama's sake.

the best of the rp was fairly spontaneous--scar didn't go into a series planning to become cleo's favourite son, but they just had such a good time being around each other and leaned into the dynamic and extrapolated their rp from how they were around each other. and it really payed off. i'm sooo glad cleo embraced it even though she was reluctant at first. i love how scar and bdubs supported her into her own amazing interpretation of arguably a not-so-fun role. i'm stunned at how into the rp etho got. he absolutely suffered for this rp and it was incredible. all those deaths. his destroyed reputation! but it worked so well.

and the bad boys! sure, joel came in with his predetermined character, but his flexibility in bringing people onto his team, into incorporating jimmy and grian and even offering to rename the bit for pearl if she'd joined--that was what really allowed it to be good. leaning into the ironic bad boys who aren't actually bad (at anything but minecraft) was delightful. bread bridge was wonderful. seeing all the players just get to be so very themselves and enjoy themselves and work as a team while having so much fun with the rp aspect made this team so good.

i loved that we didn't get solo players this season, that martyn and scott teamed up even when they didn't interact much in episode one. coral kids and TIES really felt like everyone was playing not just with their friends, but with the people who played the game in the same way they did. i can't put my finger on what made martyn and scott a good fit together but they are, and ties were the perfect little "nerds" (as scar called them) with so much heart, while etho still got to do his weird thing with bdubs and roleplay with the clockers. and the tension between all these groups! scott and cleo's hard alliance and the rest of the clockers just following along because mom. ties animosity with the clockers despite whatever it was etho was doing. they just let bdubs tag along for the day! etho had a take his kids to work day and it was hilarious! and martyn sticking to scott but also kinda being sketchy in the background with everyone, showing a pleasant face but clearly not being quite as invested in all the relationships as everyone else, which then played into the ending where he betrayed his partner in the series where team bonds were never broken--

and while i wish pearl and bigb had got to be a bit more involved in the storylines and they were a little sidelined from some of the best action, by god they played their nosey neighbour role well. the tension with the clockers, the feud with jimmy, stealing the enchanting table, finding themselves so isolated and alone because they're just neighbours and they built a wall between them and the server. perfection.

so yeah. loved how everyone was enjoying themselves. loved how rp got to flourish in the peaceful periods and how the high death limit played into the drama. loved that everyone mostly just went with the flow and the narratives became so fun because of it. *chefs kiss*

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maxisanangrywell · 3 months

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Simon has scars, Simon has trauma-- Okay so imagine this.

Trauma often causes your body to break down not just mentally, but physically. Often, in the most extreme cases of trauma, your brain gets rewired to think/act/and distribute electro signals a certain way. Childhood trauma has been studied so intensively, that doctors have determined it can also suppress vital bodily functions, like digestion or even your immune system, possibly causing autoimmune disorders.

Me, I'm 21, with a couple of different disabilities from my trauma, so I'm drawing from experience.

What if, and hear me out, Simon starts, gradually over the next couple of years, getting some weird joint pains. Just, like it feels achey, and not quite right. Like he was down with a cold. It comes and goes, and he's not entirely sure when it started. He's always sort of had joint pains, I mean, look at his job? It's not only incredibly intense, and taxing physically AND emotionally, but he constantly is over working his joints. So, he thinks nothing of it.

Except, over the next few months it doesn't go away like he thinks. Oh well, right? He goes to the med bay, they check his symptoms, they check everything, and just simply find nothing. They have no reason to do blood work, or x-rays. He's not injured, and it doesn't sound like he's pulled anything or snapped any tendon. They tell him if it persists, to come back in. They give him Ibuprofen, Acetaminophen, and a N-SAID to trade off between the three, and help with any swelling or discomfort. All Simon's symptom points to, is the over work of the joints. I mean, hell, he's been in the SAS for years now, with about a decade or two of more service on top of that. He's considered old by the SAS, almost at the stage where they'd pull him off the field if he even sprains an ankle. So, he doesn't think anything of it, and refuses to go to med bay.

Without failure, the symptoms just sort of pile up gradually over the next four years. The joint pain is accompanied by stiffness and swelling. The joints, primarily in all his finger joints, wrists, and knees hurt, are red, and hot to the touch. His left hip is starting to get painful enough that he has to stretch and stay in his room for the first hour-and a half when he wakes. Otherwise, he'd be seen hobbling down the hall and that isn't good. He'd surely be sent to med bay.

So, Simon deals with it. Until one night, he's on a mission, and his joint stiffness catches up to him. Johnny has to help move him when they get under fire, and his hands and fingers hurt so bad he can't properly grab the gun and fire it. It takes him a few minutes, but he eventually returns fire. Johnny having seen the struggle, reports it to Price, who almost immediately sends him to med bay to get almost every fucking test done under the book.

"Obviously it's not just joint pain and stiffness of age anymore, Simon. I need you to be 100% out on the field. If not for you, then for Johnny. For the team."

Simon thinks it was pretty shitty of Price to use Johnny and the team against him, but it does the trick. He gets there, and spills almost everything to the doctor he saw last time. The doctor is shocked and appalled Simon never told him anything, and Simon tells him the medicine worked at first, as did the braces that he recommended for the joint support, but it just kept getting worse.

They do X-Rays, and blood work, and they find out Simon has a fairly common autoimmune disorder. Although, it's not the kind he wants to hear because it will result in a medical discharge.

"Rheumatoid Arthritis? You're bloody joking. My hand isn't all fucked up and weird looking doc. I can move my hand just fine."

"You can right now, but if you don't get the proper treatment, along with a transfusion for your knee... it will progress. Probably to the point you're bed bound."

The doctor calls in the team on behalf of Simon's request, and well, they try to find a way around it. At least, Gaz and Soap do. But before they exhaust all their options, Price offers to talk to the higher ups to see what the stance would be on moving Simon from an operator, to more of a coordinator like Kate. Where he would be able to do missions every one in a while, but not over exert himself to the point a flare-up is triggered and he is left in a dangerous position once again. The higher-ups agree, not wanting to lose the infamous Ghost.

So, there we go. :) That's my little tid-bit, take it as you want. And like always, if you enjoy the idea, please like/reblog, and if you want to build off the idea for your own AU or things, just tag me if you use specifics!! ((If you have any questions about RA, please drop them in my box and I will try to answer when I have the time!!))

#cod mw2 #call of duty #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghoap #soap x ghost #soapghost #ra simon riley #rheumatoid arthritis #chronically ill simon riley

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deadricslover · 1 year

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little admirer

here's my masterlist!

a/n: I've been stuck for ideas I'm sorry I've been gone :/ but hopefully I will get back into the routine of posting! this is also shorter than usual but I didn't want to drag it out lol

summary: you always hated getting bombarded by 'fans' of Bruce and the paparazzi. You didn't think this encounter would be any different but you were wrong. It was actually one of the most wholesome ones and definitely your favourite.

warnings: this really isn't about Bruce but he's the boyfriend ok? so...ya. and scars I guess NOT PROOFREAD

pairings: bale!Bruce Wayne x gn!musician!eader

-------------------------------------------------

When you looked out the window and saw the crowds of people outside, your fear reached its pinnacle. The only thing you wanted was to spend your anniversary with Bruce alone, free from intrusions other than kisses, of course. Yet that was all wishful thinking. It was obvious that it would not occur. Given your animosity for the paparazzi, Bruce had made an effort to ease your fears, but in reality, you both knew you would just have to get through it. You might have thought you would get used to it since you were also a fairly well-known musician, but not as much as Bruce, the prince of Gotham. However, Bruce took your hand and urged you to break the habit of chewing your nails while staring at the crowd.

"how do they even know you're here?" to ask turning to him

he huffs and shakes his head in thought. "I don't know. maybe someone saw us walking in"

"can we not go to dinner in peace? I mean.." you were at a loss for words, you didn't know how people could be so invasive and inconsiderate.

"I know. I know" he soothes gently kissing your hand and stroking your opposite shoulder whilst his arm is around your back.

"do you want to just get it done?" he inquires and you knew it was the smart thing to do even though you didnt want to. at all.

"yeah sure" you reply turning away and grabbing some last minute things off the bed. On the way out of the elevator, Bruce gently yet firmly places his hand on your waist in order to keep you close. Cameras flash, questions are thrown as you try to make your way through the flood of people. Bruce usually liked to put away a minute or two for some real fans who just wanted a high five off of Bruce Wayne, but he wasn't so sure about right now. You encouraged him to do it, not to break tradition and said you would wait elsewhere. Usually people would recognise you, but Bruce Wayne was right there so of course nobody would pay attention to you...not that you were complaining. A couple people did ak for a photo and you kindly obliged as long as they were sincere about it. As you stood watching Bruce interact with kids and their parents, not paying any mind to reporters, you feel a little tap on your arm. You look around and notice a little girl standing next to you with loving eyes. You crouch down to the little girl thinking maybe she was lost.

"hi sweetie. Are you ok?" you ask the child glancing around to see if her parents were anywhere to be found.

"I'm very good." she replies cheerfully

"awh that's good. where are your parents?" you ask

"getting a photo with Bruce Wayne."

"ooohh. everyone wants to don't they? he's really famous" you emphasize trying to make conversation with the girl

"not as famous as you, though"

she knew who you were? that's so sweet "no no. Bruce is way way more famous than me. but thank you! what's your name?"

"Camilla. You're my favourite person, ever!" she jumps lightly squealing.

oh my- of your heart wasn't throbbing before. it sure is now. the smile on your face couldn't be bigger.

"awh that's so sweet! you're my favourite person too, Camilla!"

"can I tell you a secret" she whispers after a couple moments of silence

"of course you can" you tell her pretending to zip your lips and lock them. She rolls up her t-shirt a little to show you a scar on her tummy. Whatever caused that scar, you felt horrible, especially because she said it was a secret. your eyebrows draw together as a reaction to your reaction.

"I used to hate it and cry all the time because I thought it was weird. but then I found out that you had one too, and now I love it, because my favourite person in the whole wide world has the same thing as me!" she tells. you honestly could cry. A little girl hating something about her body ay such a young age is bad enough but also the fact that she grew to love it because you had one too?! your heart throbbed.

"I do have one. it's on my arm. But yours is so much more beautiful"

"I got mine from an operation when I was a baby" she informs you butchering the word operation as any child would.

"ooh interesting. see all those people asking Bruce for a photo? with all the cameras? well I got mine from them. one time I finished a show and was going home and they hurt me" you recall in simple terms

"my mommy and daddy hurt you?" she asks shocked

"no! not your parents. some others that don't work there anymore."

"that's sad" she replies

she looks off into the crowd for a second and waves to her parents before telling you she has to go now-- not before asking for a hugh though. you kindly oblige without a second thought and embrace the girl smiling. her parents walk over and thank you for being kind to her and watching her. you tell them it was no problem as they leave and you wave to the little girl. Right on queue the famous Bruce wayne walks over without you noticing

"she seemed to love you"

"tell me about it. I'm her favourite person ever in the whole wide world" you recall

"she's not the only one" he adds to taking your hand in his and starts walking

you smile lightly and nudge Bruce slightly "she showed me something too. she had this scar on her stomach from a surgery when she born and she used to always be insecure about it" you start

"that's horrible, she's only young" he butts in genuinely sorry for the girl

"yeah, but the nice part that she found out that I also had a scar the same shape as hers and because of that she grew to love it...all because I had one too!" you exclaim still in disbelief

"you're such an influence. that's so sweet" he responds continuing to walk. "it is isn't it?" you reply placing your head on his shoulder while strolling to the restaurant. Usually you hate the paparazzi, but this time was different, it was sincere and sweet. definitely your favourite so far.

#dc #batman #bruce wayne #christian bale x reader #deadricslover #batman begins #bruce wayne fluff #the batman #bruce wayne x reader

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familyvideostevie · 1 year

Note

ok but meeting remus lupin during the end of nov and admitting how melancholy this time of year makes u feel and that's it ur invited to all the marauders events over the holidays and spend new years together

my first attempt at remus! this really ran away from me, but i hope you like it! i am still finding my footing with him but this was great fun. | fem!reader, strangers to friends to lovers, nye kiss, 3.3k

You meet Remus at a local book club, of all places.

A flyer on the bookshop notice board tells you the group meets every other week -- a bit frequently, in your opinion, but you've got the time to read so you figure you'll give it ago. Moving to a new place means you haven't got many, or any, really, friends, and you could do with getting out of the house more. The days are getting shorter and you find yourself a bit more lonely with each passing day.

The group, when you go for the first time, consists of eight elderly women (though, they are sure to inform you, sometimes numbers swell to as many as 15), you, and Remus. They ask for your name and your age, which they all titter at.

"I, uh," you say, crossing your legs and shifting in your folding chair. "I'm really happy to be here," you say. "Thank you for letting me join." That seems to soften them, and they all are a bit more smiley as they introduce themselves.

It is clear right away that they adore Remus. It's not surprising -- he's handsome in a tired way, a ragged way. His face is a mash-up of sharp edges and tight scars that slash across his nose, but his eyes are soft and warm. You want to inspect every inch of him, so naturally you look away.

It takes three meetings for you to say much. After four, you see Remus at the grocery store twice in one week. You wonder if he lives around here. By the fifth meeting, you're fairly sure you've got your footing. You chime in more often than not, and they're going to let you pick a book next month. It's the last meeting before you all break for the holidays and you are quite sad to not have these to look forward to for the next few weeks. But you push it down and instead focus on your impassioned defense of the unlikable narrator in this week's novel.

"It's the edge that makes the story so compelling," you say. "We get to judge her because we recognize her, but we don't know why until too late. It's because she's normal, and we're meant to see ourselves in her." You've gone on for too long, and after you finish, you don't know where to look. Remus is smiling at you, as he always does.

"Brilliant," says Florence, the bookstore owner and facilitator "What a way to end! I can't wait to see what you come up with in the new year, dear." She hands out the plates of cookies that she made for everyone and the ladies begin to go their separate ways. You're juggling your book, bag, and the plate while you try to shove an arm through your coat. A hand appears in your vision to grab the items in your grip.

"You alright?" It's Remus. He smells like chocolate and something earthier. You've spoken a few times, but not much apart from a hello here and there. He complimented your sweater last meeting and the words burned in your brain for days. You nod, quickly sliding into your coat before taking your things back. His fingers are warm where they brush yours.

"Thanks," you say. The bookshop is almost empty.

"I agree with you, by the way," he says. You've noticed that when Remus talks to you, even if he's responding to something you've said in the group, he looks at you the whole time. His attention does not waver. It's both warming and unnerving. "What you were saying about the narrator. I hadn't been able to put it into words like that, but I think you were spot on."

You start for the door and he follows. "I just think it's easy to fall into the trap of putting every character on one side of morality or the other," you say.

"Exactly!" He nods emphatically. "With a writer of this caliber the text encourages you to read about her with nuance and to consider that she's not just one thing." He holds the door for you and you both spill out into the chilly night air. The town has wrapped every lamppost and tree in lights that cast everything in a warm glow.

"Listen," Remus says. He looks especially lovely out here. You hug your plate of cookies close to your chest before you reach out to push away the lock of hair that's fallen across his forehead. "I know this is probably not going to come out well, so feel free to tell me to shove it."

You blink at him. What?

"I've seen you at the supermarket around the corner a few times," he continues. If you didn't know any better, you'd say he's being shy. "And I figure you live around here?" You nod. You've no reason to believe he's anything but a nice guy, but you know nothing about him. Even if you have also noticed him at the same store.

"Well," he keeps going. His smile is tight, the creases at the corner of his eyes deep in a way that screams nerves. "I was wondering, if you don't have plans that is, if you wanted to come to the pub with me? I'm meeting a few of my mates and I--." He runs a hand through his hair, fixing the piece you can't stop looking at. "Well, we don't get to talk much during club and I'd uh, like to get to know you?"

"Are you asking me to be friends?" you blurt out. Probably not the best thing to lead with, but he's really so handsome and he seems nice and you haven't got much to look forward to in your empty apartment and this is just a little bit overwhelming. His shoulders creep back down away from his ears and he grins.

"Yeah," he says. "I am."

"Okay," you say. "Lead the way." Remus doesn't strike you as someone who wears his emotions plainly, but his grin softens into something lighter and you think that you want to figure out how to read him.

You fall into step beside him. "It's not far," he says. "I do want to apologize in advance for my friends, though," he says.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, they're great. Don't get me wrong. I love them to pieces." He sighs. "But they're also a bloody pain."

You laugh loudly and suddenly. It feels nice. "Well, that's a ringing endorsement. It's alright though, I could use some friends."

Remus looks over at you and tugs on your elbow just once to tell you to turn with him. "You just moved here, yeah?"

"Well, a few months ago now, but I haven't had much luck with people." Between working and trying to keep your head above water, you haven't figure out how to add socializing into that yet. "And I don't really like...all this." You wave your hands in the air, gesturing at the lights and ribbons adorning the street.

"Oh?"

"Yeah," you say. "It all makes me feel a bit sad." You start to feel embarrassed. "Oh Remus, I'm sorry. We've barely spoken and I'm being all melancholy." He knocks his shoulder with yours and you look over at him to see he's still got a small smile on his face.

"Darling," he says. "I am as melancholy as they come. You're speaking my language."

---

The pub is crowded and noisy and you like it immediately. Remus takes your hand and leads you through the throng to a back corner where two guys are taking up an entire round booth with what seems to be an arm wrestling match.

"Surrender, Potter," one of them says. He's got a knot of dark hair tied into a bun and tiny hoops in each ear and one nostril.

"Fuck off," growls the other. You can tell right away that he's tall, maybe as tall as Remus. He's got messy hair and round spectacles. He is not winning the match.

"Idiots," Remus mutters. He lets go of your hand and places his palm on your lower back. "Hey, knock it off!" This distracts the boy with glasses, allowing the other one to slam his arm down on the table.

"Shove it," he cries. Remus rubs the bridge of his nose. You don't think they've noticed you yet.

"Where are the girls?" he asks. More friends? you think.

"They're coming," says the boy who lost. Potter, you think. His eyebrows climb up his forehead once he notices you standing next to Remus.

"Marlene called and said they had to stop at home first," adds the other one. His eyes find you and his gaze is sharp. "And who is this?" he says, eyeing you.

"Uh," you say. Remus's hand presses a little harder into your back. "Remus and I do book club together?" You put the plate of cookies down on the table like a peace offering.

"Merlin's beard," glasses boy whistles. "She's real."

The one with piecing looks delighted. "James, you owe me a fiver." He holds out his hand.

"Fuck off, Sirius," says...James. "Wait are those cookies?"

"As you can see," Remus sighs, "these gits are James and Sirius. Are you two about finished?" You look at him and his cheeks are a little pink but he's doing his best to look bored. James and Sirius break into roars of laughter as they scoot to make room for you both. Remus ushers you into the booth. "I'm going to get drinks," he says. "What would you like?"

"Whatever you're having," you tell him. You tug off your coat and don't know what to do with your hands.

"I want a stout, Remus," James says.

Remus doesn't even look at him. "I wasn't asking you, dear." He winks at you and turns on his heel, heading for the bar. You feel a bit strange to be left with two guys you just met, but this is how you make friends, right?

"So what's this about me not being real?" you ask. Sirius raps a tattooed knuckle on the table before reaching for a sugar cookie.

"Well," he drawls. "Lupin told us about his book club when he started going earlier this year but we don't hear much else about it. And then a little while ago, he comes to drinks and he says there's a new girl."

James says your name in a poor imitation of Remus's accent. You twist your fingers in your lap. "And he says a few things about this new girl," Sirius continues, until James elbows him.

"Keep your limbs to yourself, Potter," he grumbles.

James leans in, elbows on the table. "Remus hasn't made a new friend since like, grammar school. So naturally we thought he was having us on when he said you two were friendly."

"Oh," you say. He's been telling his friends that you're friendly? It makes your chest tight in a nice way, like you're being hugged. "Well, thank you for letting me crash your pub night," you say.

"Are you kidding?" Sirius deadpans. "We've been begging him to invite you for weeks." Remus returns before you can reply with two pale-looking pints. He sets them down and slides in next to you, close enough that it's clear you know him the most, even if that's barely true, but far enough that you're not touching except for your knees knocking under the table. He stretches an arm across the top of the booth behind you. You hope you're not staring.

"So how were the books this time?" James asks. His eyes say mischief but he seems to be willing to let you off the hook for now. You and Remus recount the drama from today's meeting. The boys ask you basic questions like what you do for work and how you like the city and what club you support, but none of it feels stale or disingenuous. In fact, it really feels like they want to get to know you.

"Well, surely you've been to the skating rink in the park." Sirius is interrogating you on what neighborhoods you've visited. You shake your head and he gasps like you've slapped him. "What about the market?"

"I don't really do the holidays very well," you say, a bit softly. He raps his knuckles on the table again and Remus presses his thigh into yours on purpose. "I just haven't got my footing yet. I haven't been here that long and I don't have a guide."

"Well that won't do," James says.

"You do now," Remus says. You turn to him and find that he's closer than you realized. His eyes bore into yours and he looks rather serious. "Have a guide, I mean. You'll just do everything with us." You blink. Is it really this easy? Making friends? A handsome boy wants to facilitate your holiday season and you don't really know what to say.

"Brilliant idea, Lupin," Sirius says happily. "I always say you're the smartest of us."

Remus kicks him. "Okay," you say. "That sounds nice."

"I'm sure Remus has your phone number," James says cheekily. "He'll sort it." Remus does not, in fact, have your phone number, but you remedy that by passing him your mobile. He taps away at it with one hand, the other still hovering just over your shoulders.

"Where the bloody fuck are the girls?" Sirius grumbles. It seems he can change moods from one moment to the next faster than anyone you've met before. "Marlene has my nice suede jacket from last week."

"And we need Lily here so James stops looking so put out," Remus says, not looking up from your phone. "Lily is his girlfriend," he adds for your benefit. "Are we not good enough for you, Jamie?"

James ignores him.

"More friends?" you say quietly. Remus nods.

"You'll like them. And they'll adore you." You've been friends with him for all of one night, but his tone is sincere. The pub lighting makes his scars softer and you fight against leaning into him as he talks.

"How do you know?"

His mouth curls up at one end in a smile that makes you shiver a little. "I just do."

It wouldn't do to develop a crush on your first real friend in town, so you try your best not to over the next few weeks. You fail miserably. How could you not like Remus? He carts you around the city with his friends -- your friends too, he insists -- going ice skating and drinking mulled cider and market shopping and every time you are struck by how lovely he is. He holds your hand a lot and sends you photos he manages to take of you without you noticing. You meet the rest of the group -- Lily and Marlene and Dorcus -- and you love them, too. You see lights all over the city and laugh a lot and smile so much your cheeks ache. His friends tease you and you end up in multiple group chats and things start to feel good. Even when you go back to your apartment alone, you feel warm. You are just excited for whatever you're going to do next.

And then it's New Year's Eve.

The pub you've become a regular at is having a party and Lily was timely enough to book your regular table for the whole crew. You're running a little late because you could not decide what to wear, but you make it, shoving yourself through the crowd to the back booth.

Someone -- you're not sure who -- spots you and screams your name. You recognize a lot of the people here, but it's not until James enters your field of vision that you relax.

"There she is!" he cries, looking over his shoulder. "Remus, she's here!" Remus emerges from the crowd and scoops you up, pressing his lips to your cheek in a quick hello as he grabs your coat and pulls you in for a hug. He's warm and smells like beer and something spicy.

"You look lovely," he says. He's had at least one drink judging by the color of his cheeks and his general handsy-ness.

"So do you," you say. He wrinkles his nose at you.

"Go sit in my seat and I'll get you a drink. The usual?" You nod. He gently pushes you towards the table and disappears into the crowd. You slide into a space Remus has clearly vacated next to Sirius. He's got some sparkles on his lower lids and an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth as he shuffles a deck of cards. Everyone at the table is flushed and ready.

"Hey, you," he says. "You in?" You've no idea what they're playing.

"Next round, Sirius." He shrugs and you watch something that looks like Hearts happen in front of you.

Remus returns before the round wraps up and you stand to give him his seat. He looks at it and then at you and then back at the bench before he slides in, setting your pints on the table before wrapping his long, slender fingers around your wrist and tugging just enough so that you stumble towards him and end up in his lap. Everyone at the table is fighting smiles and Sirius wraps up the round and turns to you both. He puts the cigarette behind his ear and manages to look extremely bored with your antics.

"Now are you playing?" You nod, breathless. Remus's arm wraps around your back, hand settling on your hip so that you won't fall off of him.

A hand moves your hair off of your shoulder and you feel lips on your earlobe. "What are we playing?" You turn and all of a sudden Remus's face is incredibly close to yours. He does not move away.

"No idea," you say, forgetting that you do know what you're playing. Your brain is a little fuzzy right now. Which is probably why you lose horribly, Remus laughing underneath you as you desperately try to shove aside thoughts of kissing him so you can focus for just one second.

And then it's almost midnight. The energy in the pub changes to something a bit more exuberant and someone passes out champagne in classes of all kinds. You end up holding a whiskey tumblr of fizz and the booth around you empties as everyone gets to their feet, ready to chant in the new year. Remus maneuvers you gently so that you're no longer totally in his lap, just next to him with your legs across it. His arm is a warm band around your shoulders to keep you close. The pub increases in volume as people start to sing.

"Have you got anyone to kiss at midnight?" he yells into your ear, lips brushing your skin again.

You pull back to look at him. He's flushed, but his eyes are clear. "I think so," you say. His eyes crinkle at the corners and he sets down his own glass and grabs your jaw. His thumb rubs over your lower lip.

"Lucky bloke," he says. The countdown chanting starts around you. You cup his jaw for the first time and run a gentle finger along one of the scars on his jaw. He shudders.

You can't wait a second more so you lean in, pressing your lips to his. He gasps just a little bit before responding, tongue tracing the seam of your mouth. His fingertips dig into your party dress and you kiss him and kiss him and kiss him and everyone is cheering and you think some of it might be for you two.

You have a feeling that this year isn't going to be so bad.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #marauders

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satanlikesmyfics · 4 months

Text

House of Balloons

a rather short fic inspired by the song 'House Of Balloons' by the weeknd, modern au

ellie x stalker!reader

an: HEAVILY inspired by a post by @elliezlils11utt

contains: drink spiking, stalker behavior

words: 850

you enter your room, locking the door behind you. you live alone, across from ellie williams. since she had noticed ellie and started watching her, she had been on another level. through your window you can see her taking out the trash and throwing it in the bin. you fantasize about her pulling your hair and grabbing you that way...

you grab your diary and write your entry about what ellie does in her daily life, gathering information and her routine to make her like you more when you're finally able to gather the courage to go talk to her. with a black pen, you write in your unsteady handwriting:

'20:58, 19th of February 2024'

'ellie brings out the trash in a black sack, throws it in the green bin outside her house. tommorow is trash day, so she perfectly timed it, like the perfect ellie she is.. after she went inside, she turned on purple leds in her room, turning off the rest or her lights. -> gets ready for bed at 21:00.'

since you've been watching and documentimg everything around her, it's like you finally have a purpose in life, since she came, no more pain. you're very very determined to talk to her soon, because tomorrow she goes for her weekly grocery shopping at the local store. you get your outfit and jewelry perfectly ready to impress.

*next morning*

you get up, get dressed and ready to go out. you make sure to brush your teeth untill they're perfectly white and spray some perfume on. you drive your bmw to the store approximately 15 minutes before ellie usually arrives. you go inside with your shopping cart and wait around the meat isle where ellie loves to buy her favorite chicken and eat it the same night, she loves chicken so much. while you pull out your phone, you hear a second cart roll behind you, towards the chicken. you whip around and there she is.

ellie.

finally you get so see her up close.. you have to remember to write down where her freckles are. you look into her eyes.. they're pale green and you notice a small scar on her right eyebrow.

"uhm.. do I know you? I can't recognize your face.."

"oh hahaha!! I'm uh.. your next door neighbor.. the blue house?"

you see her eyes light up as she remembers the house. she says she's never seen you before and you're fairly with inviting her over for dinner to 'get to know each other'. she agrees and you give her your phone number. she texts you a "hi!" and you favoritize it immediately. I mean.. it's fucking ellie??

later that night, as you finish packing up your groceries into the fridge and cabinet, you take a shower after your bit of time watching ellie. right when you get out, you hear the doorbell ring and groan in annoyance. you throw on your robe and head downstairs.

you open the door and.. oh shit.. oh fuck.. it's ellie. your face reddens immediately with embarassement. "oh uh.. I see you're a bit busy? should I come over another time or..?"

"no. well I mean, you can just wait down here, I won't be too long haha."

you hand her the tea already on the counter, you initially had made it for yourself. lucky enough, there was some ketamine by the counter you were gonna use to spike her drink. you just didn't expect to see her so soon. you sprinkle the powder into her drink and hope she doesn't notice.

"oh yeah.. sure I'll be waiting"

you practically run upstairs after leading her to the sofa and shutting the door. you get dressed in your Rory Gilmore sweater and some loose-ish jeans. while you run back downstairs though, you notice your diary about ellie lying open in the kitchen table and ellie standing in front of the door with her shoes on, with a blank stare towards the locked door.

"did you..?"

"yes. yes I fucking did. let me the fuck out. now."

you feel your whole personality switch.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Ellie."

she turns around, scared and confused.

"you're in my world now.."

she frantically tries to open the door by jamming at the door handle.

"no no ellie.. you can stay.. you can stay."

you look at her with sorry eyes, sorry for what she will have to experience now, as the price for looking through her things.

"it shouldn't have gone this way els.."

the nickname made her visibly shiver and you can feel her must wanting to cower into a ball on the floor. only her closest friends would call her that. but of course, you had picked up on that already.

"you shouldn't have been so nosy the first time over. god, the hopes I had for us. you disappoint me."

she feels the effects of the ketamine you gave her earlier just hitting at the right moment.

"oh sweet els.. whatever happens I hope you can remember that you belong to me."

"what..?"

"you belong to me."

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