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#whatever flows ig
666soulz · 5 months
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rapper!connie first run in with fashionvlogger!reader was…interesting. you answered a question from a fan on twitter who asked if you could style one rapper who would it be? you replied saying, ‘connie springer, his music don’t match his style. he dressing like a regular hood nigga when he should be dressing like a bad bitch with a dark lair. pisses me off.’
eren snorted when he seen the tweet and sent it to connie. at first he was a little offended and was about to clean you right on up, but when he saw the comments agreeing??? he had to find out why your opinion mattered so much. so the the first thing he did was tap that instagram link. 550k followers. hmm. he seen that plenty of his celebrity mutuals followed you. 
                           hollowsoul
followed by thegirljt, gunna, liluzivert and others. 
when he tapped on your pinned photo he almost drooled at your beauty, your body, and the outfit you were wearing.  you indeed had that shit on to the T. connie caught himself scrolling through your feed as his anemic ass shook ice into his mouth. you sure did have a love for all black outfits. 
he taps on that message button and types in two words. ‘style me’ 
your phone lights up as you stir around the meat in the pan. you put your glass of wine down to pick up your phone. 
instagram 
new message 
you tap on the notification and it takes you to the dm. you didn’t really have a shocked reaction, but you were surprised that he even bothered to to dm you. connie was semi private. he has moments where he’s very active on social media then he becomes a ghost. 
‘sure long as your okay with me vlogging’
connie puts his cup of ice down beside his feet warning his dog, Choppo, to not touch before replying to you. 
‘i don’t mind. you free on friday?’
   ‘i am’
ight let’s meet at the outlet mall on Lafayette @ 1 then. you mind if me, my friends, and security come?
 okay sounds good and i don’t mind at all.  see you on friday x
trust me you were less boring in person. connie was lacking in first impression as he was late to you guys shopping date. 
you didn’t mind though, you were right in dior trying on sunglasses. “how these look y’all?” you ask your camera. “i don’t know they’re kinda cunt..” you say looking in the small mirror. you didn’t even notice connie and his crew walking in and walking towards you. 
“i like them.”
you look behind you, seeing connie and his friends. connie took you in while you were distracted and you were better in person. you were in an all black outfit, of course, and you looked fucking beautiful. 
“they’re cute right?” you smile looking up at the 6’1 FINE ass dominican man. one thing that  also irritated you about connie’s style is that it doesn’t emphasize his face. connie face card was something different. He had beautiful features, hazel eyes, low lids, some pretty plump lips, and he was pulling off a buzz cut like david beckham in the 2000’s. not many people can do that. 
“yeah, sorry I was late. had to drop my sister off to her dance practice.” connie says you wave him off, “oh I'm not worried about it. it gave me time to think of what stores i want to go to.” you say taking your glasses off. “hey it’s nice to meet y’all,” you said looking at the two men behind connie. eren and ony. they weren’t a group but they put out some collab albums. those albums were heat, and was always playing when you were working out or cleaning. 
“we’re starting here by the way. can’t go wrong with dior. do you have a favorite fashion brand or designer?” you ask connie as you walked over to the men’s section. 
“uhm nike?”
“nike..? you know what i’m just..i’m just going to pretend you didn’t say that.“ you say shaking your head in disappointment. ony was laughing to himself in the background cause he could hear it in your voice. 
“what’s wrong with nike?” connie smiles as you picked up a dior sweater. “well first off all nike is a sports brand i’m talking about a fashion brand like rick owens, true religion, moschino. 
“what’s a moschino?” connie scrunches his face and he was dead serious. 
“do you know who jeremy scott is? law roach?”
“are these random white people?”
you looked at connie like he was a little lost baby, pouting your glossy lips. “aw you are so cute.” you pinch his cheek. “this is my favorite part. teaching you the ins and out of fashion.” you smile pushing an outfit into his chest. “go try this on.”
connie found out that you were a bossy little thing. if he didn’t like something, “oh well too bad you’re getting it anyways.” ony and eren enjoyed seeing him get bossed around as he was usually the demanding one in the studio. you had fun telling connie stuff about fashion and how to put together a good outfit. 
connie left that outlet with a new wardrobe, friend, and crush. a very big crush that his friends noticed. the way connie blushed like some nerdy school boy every time you’d hype him up. you noticed as well and found it absolutely adorable. 
“do that lil pose that you do. period!” 
you enjoyed Connie's presence. He was a mix between laidback and hyper. like when he got comfortable around you, he got to cracking jokes. even joking you. picking up some ugly ass cowgirl boots and saying, “this looks like something you’d like.” and you’d just give him a little playful glare telling him to not play with you. 
you left Connie with a homework assignment. learn how to use pinterest and make a pinterest board. 
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kianely · 5 months
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okok hear me out ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝
being needy and riding re6 leon’s thigh and he starts sweetly mocking you for being so pent up and vocal even though he hasn’t even really touched you at all
i’m not usually this horny but :( next time i’ll send some fluff into your askbox
Omg anon I’m hearing you out, you got me thinking about this…just imagine how much muscle his thighs have 😵‍💫 I wrote a little gender neutral drabble on this under the cut I hope that’s okay
Thank you for sending an ask I love interaction AHH
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“That’s it,” his murmurs fan against the sensitive skin of your ear, and they turn your brain into mush with each syllable that emits from his lips. “You’re so loud I wouldn’t be surprised if we get a noise complaint.”
Your pajama pants are discarded somewhere on the floor of your shared living room as you rut against him. Leon has been so busy that you couldn’t help but pounce on him when he got some free time, scrambling over to him as soon as he sat down on the couch.
The scent of his cologne and pheromones fills your senses, a combination that makes you press your face against the crook of his neck in an attempt to get more.
And you’re so noisy—grunts and whimpers spilling from you with each roll of your hips against his thigh. The rough fabric of his denim jeans against the flimsier and thinner fabric of your underwear (which are pretty wet with your arousal, dampening up Leon's pants as well) has you rolling your eyes back.
“Don’t even need to lift a damn finger. Love me so much I bet you could come untouched.”
Surely he wouldn’t be that mean, right? Though…you could definitely come untouched. Hell, you gushed at the mere sound of his raspy morning voice; you got all excited whenever you got a peek of his happy trail.
“You’d like that wouldn’t you, sweetheart?” God, his voice is gravelly. His hand slides up to rest against the arch of your back. “You’re soaking my pants just from dry humping me like a damn dog.”
“Leon—“ you want to protest against those words, you feel a little bit embarrassed (and very turned on) and in turn, you dig your nails into his shoulder blades. He cuts you off with a low rumble of laughter, catching onto your embarrassment and pressing a kiss against your temple.
“Bet you’d grind against my leg if I put you on your knees, hm? Poor baby can’t even go a day without being all over me.” He brings his hand to your jaw, cradles it, and brings you in for a kiss. It drowns out the loudness of your drunken sounding noises. His stubble brushes against your chin, and he gently pats his fingers against your cheek.
“You can be my sweet lap dog and keep me warm all day. What do you think?”
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me after editing the aau prologue for the bajillionth time
#First chapter I changed the opening bc I always thought it felt off/abrupt and wanted to have it be prince pov from the start#I wanna get in his head more ok sue me#Beyond that tho it was just some wording edits#Specifically with the internal dialogue moments I helped them flow more/feel more like thoughts#Also mj gets a bit more of their usual edge/pessimism bc the prologue they always felt a bit too “ówò sad poor smol bean” or whatever#That’s it tho chapter 4 I didn’t change bc it’s peak#Did add some teases to later things tho like snatch senses mjs soul at the end of his chap but doesn’t realize it#Or like I added the Not Now running thing in the earlier chapters bc it was more of a chapter 4 thing so I wanted 2 set it up more so boom#I think that’s all the notable edits ig like I said just description additions the only actual new thing is the opener for chap 1 👍#Also also I got to include a hc that I have that I neglected to do before but I hc a!prince used plural internal dialogue#Because lol we love dramatic irony in this house#Grace post#this reminds me tho one of these days I should look through heart strings chapter one to look for editing things#Bc I think I did that recently but I don’t remember it much tho#Mostly just when the Hat stuff starts that was the parts I never directly rewrote I just edited them so they feel out of place in my brain#Also I’d wanna edit her dialogue bc it *was* in character (after rereading her diary’s to confirm) but I wanna have her be a bit more snark#Hat is Hard bc i Need the balance of cute little kid and also smug little shit (affectionate) like she is a pain to write man cries#This is just me rambling lol ignore it I just wanted to spam aau thoughts#In other news I made shapes redesigns but I’m on the fence on posting them bc idk if I wanna spoil or not hhhhhhhhh#Nowadays I’m more chill w spoiling things than I used to be#But there are a handful of things I’ve kept shut about (ex being princes name or mjs species stuff etc)#So I’m not sure if this thing with shapes i should keep secret or just post bc I used to spoil it but idk now#Shrugs#maybe I’ll do a poll later I dunno#Ok yapping over byeeeeee
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toytulini · 30 days
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i cant see posts cos my app is borked but i can still MAKE posts so you all can still see me complain!
it is so fucking impossible to search for fucking anything at all on the goddamn internet and if you want any amount of specificity at all you are well and truly fucked
#toy txt post#me: ceramic gooseneck kettle#borosilicate glass gooseneck kettle. does this exist? even one? etsy: google: wayfair: amazon: one billion listicles with amszon affiliate#links: here are metal kettles? cast iron kettles? thats what you want? best gooseneck kettles of 2024#i dont want that. theyre all gonna be fucking metal bc thats easy to make that shape ig and ppl dont Taste it except for me ig#and its like low cost and not fragile compared to other materials? theres glass kettles that i should probably just go for but i thought id#check if there was even a possibility of a really nice controlled pour with a material i cant taste. but whatever. ive even capitulated to#having to do it on a stove at this point somewhat just fuck i want one that boils the water and pours it nicely that doesnt have fucking#metal touching the water at any point bc i can Fucking Taste It and it tastes bad#and it also doesnt even taste metallic which is cool. love that. just tastes like maximum grody. no one else can taste it. i feel insane#the water vessels were so clean and yet still tasted so fucking bad i was wondering if i even still like coffee. i did and do. i just dont#fucking like water thats interacted with metal i guess#anyway this is just me complaining about how impossible it is to fucking gind anything#find* also im Exploring Black Coffee. im in my coffee era. im trying to taste and unlock and understand and explore the Complex Flavors#i bought a chemex. its fun to watch it brew...imagine if i could control the water flow better. rn im pouring#from a pyrex bowl out of the microwave and its impossible to control the pour. it pours so bad. im going insane
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leqclerc · 11 months
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Help girl I’m doing it again (thinking about 2019-2020 until my tummy hurts)
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amarioe · 5 months
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So sometimes i get this "weird" feeling, and i think it happens when im not being creative for a longer period of time? Like yeah ive been drawing and coming up with AU ideas, but i kinda feel stuck when it comes to developing the ones i wanna work on, so all that culminates into the ever returning feeling of "weird".
It's like- neither negative nor positive, its a neutral feeling but one that you can genuinely feel as a thing in your chest, like most intense feelings do, but it isn't intense at all.
I suppose another word for it could be stuck? Like a weight in a pound of sludge chilling, even though its not really supposed to be there.
My solution to the feeling is art! As is for most things i cant fully understand- but it helps i swear. I let loose and draw from a place that doesn't care for precision or bringing a message, like a wild side of my brain that doesn't care to take into account all the intricacies of a story.
Anyway, this lead to me drawing a new character LOL, enjoy? I guess? I kind of just wanted to rant about this really
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But yeah, please tell me someone else experiences this and im not just going crazy, this is like what, the 4th or 5th time? 💀
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waywardsalt · 6 months
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so ive been writing out the scene meant to be when linebeck and damien first meet as kids, and in addition to just. being rusty with writing the dialogue of children. i need to figure out how to write the dialogue of five year olds who don’t understand how fucked the situation that one of them is in is
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yndrgrl · 1 month
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you + katsuki bakugo's relationship dynamic <3
fluff. cute lil drabble. established relationship. ooc! bakugo. any au you want ig haha. gn! reader.
warnings: innuendos but nothing crazy
a/n: another drabble before i drop a long, hardcore mafia boss! dabi x spy! reader smut 👀
-
before bakugo found you, his friends pictured him dating someone dainty, soft-spoken, & just all around quiet. however, when you came into the picture, your dynamic just made so much sense.
the two of you clicked & meshed so well together. you were outgoing, kind yet snappy, & you were just glowing whenever you were with katsuki.
your friends were worried when you first got with katsuki, knowing you. you were the type to take no bullshit from anyone, not afraid of conflict, & you were just so headstrong.
what shocked everyone the most is how katsuki change when with you. we all know katsuki; if you look at the guy wrong, he'd punch the look off your face before you could even blink. he was always yelling profanity at someone with a seemingly permanent scowl on his face. the nicknames he gave people were less than savory.
but with you? you could say whatever you wanted, you could act like a princess brat & he would just dote on you. it was your way, or the highway. katsuki would go to the ends of the universe for you-- even if you just wanted a cup of tea. no mean names for you (unless under the shirts), you were his darling, his love. how could he not worship you? you're just so perfect.
he's just so happy to be in your presence, it was as clear as day. he would never say it out loud (unless you batted your pretty eyes at him, of course), but he just relished in your beauty.
loving katsuki is the easiest you've ever gotten the pleasure to experience. people say that he would start fights then never back down. it was quite the opposite, though. he would tease you because you were just so cute all huffy & puffy, but once you started to get actually upset, he would immediately deescalate the situation. profuse apologizes would flow out of his mouth, butterfly kisses up your arm, & if you were truly mad, he would look so hurt.
your fights were rare & far in between. honestly, there wasn't much to fight about because he would avoid them like the plague. you didn't like when he did something? he literally unlearns it on the spot. you didn't like he wasn't doing something? he would immediately jump into action, mentally burning it into his brain.
he didn't want to lose you. you were an angel amongst a dirty sea of sinners, & he was your ever-so-willing worshipper.
he loves that he gets the privilege of seeing your sweet side. you give the world your rough exterior with glimpses into your true self. however, when with him, you can let go of the facade. there was a never ending flow of compliments coming out of his mouth.
"darlin', you're just too sweet for me." "god, i can't believe i'm the lucky one who gets to praise you." "(y/n), you're just so mmm."
life with him got comfortable, never boring. you had your routines. on monday, you'd call at 9 p.m. until midnight. on fridays, you'd get off of work at 6 p.m., & he'd already be outside of your house, waiting to pick you up for a date.
"oh, how i adore you, (y/n)."
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snekdood · 1 year
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I for one enjoy creating things i feel proud of and dont want to have to go back and work on again 3738393873 years in the future
#i for one dont like regretting creating something lazily when i wanted it to look a certain way with more effort#i for one think trying and challenging yourself and your ability to achieve your goals is good#if me 'going back to fix things' happens like. about 3 years after ive posted it- then that means i wasnt satisfied w it when i posted it#in the first place. i plan to do that w my comic kinda but thats more or less with coloring and after like 2-3 years of not coloring#everything in i think id probably just leave it black and white#but i wouldnt say that its necssarily unfinished. i finished it and maybe ill add on to it.#as far as im concerned. unless i clarify something is a wip everything i post online is finished as it is.#but im not about to post it until i think its actually finished#and not just 'sufficient'#but das just me#idk hard to have an opinion here bc i like all of my art both when i make something w a lot of effort and even when i dont try at all#ig i just dont feel the urge to post the pics i dont feel like *other* people think is good enough to see#like on here i feel like i have to have an *aesthetic*. my art blog has to all flow together#but when i used to be on deviantart i had scraps or other places i could put pics that the more pretentious artists wouldnt like#so even if my ~pretty~ art was what ppl saw first i was still posting everything else. i had it all in one place#but unless i wanna fill my art blog w a bunch of black and white images n shit and totally fuck up the *currated aesthetic* then idk#idk if i want to do that. i want to post about my characters and such but a. no one gives a fuck about anything on here esp not original-#content.#and b. i do kinda like the aesthetic ive made on my art blog. idk. ill do whatever when i feel like it#im very either or in that way yknw#at least i can say theres stuff im really proud of bc i actually tried.
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mcondance · 11 months
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come close; hobie brown
getting high and talking about anarchy with some old 90's shit playing is a crazy way to fall for someone. but it happens.
pairing hobie brown x Black!afab!fem! reader
contents lots of weed, different terms for weed (mary jane, cess), talks of killing politicians (y’all r both anarchists so.), masturbation (both you and hobie), making out, fingering, riding, missionary, mating press, creampie, unprotected sex (they're horny man dwbi), dirty talk, cervix kissing, lotsssss of praise, porn with plot (sorry i love plot 🙏🏾)
words 4.7k.. back on my longer fic shit!
warnings reader wears lipgloss, barely proofread so if you see any mistakes pls shoot me an ask!, umm i use the n word once!, i’m also,, not that great at writing his voice yet so.. hope it’s at least sorta accurate :3
extras the form i wrote this in is kinda,, unique igs but it flows rlly well i feel.
song shoutouts special thanks to lipstick lover by janelle monae, come close by common and mary j. blige, and green eyes by erykah badu!
signing off happy father’s day to hobie 🫶🏾
not quite plug!hobie, but hobie who always has weed, who you smoke with the first time you buy from him.
you usually don’t smoke with randoms, but you hear some old 90's rap playing from inside his car, and he invites you in when you comment on it.
"what you know bout this?" you ask with a smile.
"a lot, actually. you wanna smoke and listen?"
not quite plug!hobie who's fine as fuck as he sits opposite you in his ride, tall and darkskin with cool ass hair. wild ass accent and even wilder style, but he makes it work. his music taste adds on to his overall allure.
but his political views? god. the charm in the shape of a little 'a' surrounded by a circle hanging from his mirror lets you know that he ain't like these other niggas.
he's an anarchist. so far, you're the only anarchist you know. it's so rare to find someone who has the same values as you.
not quite plug!hobie who's car you leave with music recs clumsily typed into your notes, and someone to talk about politics with, though you're too shy to text the pretty boy with the good weed, so you're sure it'll never happen.
not quite plug!hobie who texts you when you get home to make sure you arrived safely.
"driving while high ain't safe, ya know? you at home?"
"i've done it before. i made it home."
not quite plug!hobie who's so nice to you, complimenting your outfits and hair, even noticing when you meet him the 3rd time with a new style.
not quite plug! hobie who you find out has been giving you discounts when your friends ask if you ever bought from him after their recommendation, and you run them in on the details. you think it’s just cause y’all smoked the first time you ever bought from him and you bonded over political views and music. you don’t think nothing else of it.
not quite plug!hobie who you find yourself thinking about more and more often, ever since that first time y'all smoked together.
not quite plug!hobie who finds himself in the same predicament.
not quite plug!hobie who answers the door on your 6th buy in a pair of red sweats and a tight white t-shirt that hugs his lanky frame, hair tied up with a blue shoe string. he invites you into his crib, citing reasons of having no one else to talk to about his views with. after all, it's the first time you both have time to sit and talk and listen to music instead of a quick deal since that first time.
not quite plug!hobie who you get faded as fuck with, this time sharing a joint on his janky couch, heavy hands brushing against each other with each pass. he tries to ignore the aching in his very core every time you speak your mind, your aligning politics driving him crazy.
you mirror him, shaking off the.. arousal?.. no, it can't be. you can't be getting all heated just cause a man is an anarchist. whatever. just ignore it.
not quite plug!hobie who laughs when you tell him straight up, “people aren’t killing politicians anymore. that’s our fuckin’ problem.”
"really? you're wild. but i get it."
"course you do." you nod, taking another drag of the joint. erykah badu's "green eyes" is playing quietly in the background of your convo. hobie starts laughing.
"what?" you smile.
"song's called green eyes, right? well we got red eyes." it's corny and wouldn't be funny if you two weren't high as shit, but you are high as shit, so it's fucking hilarious.
not quite plug!hobie who's eyes linger on you as he pulls laugh after laugh out of your chest with his snarky little jokes.
not quite plug!hobie who walks you to your car after your smoke session, telling you to get home safely. he passes out after his head hits the bed, that after smoke sleep being some of the best he's ever had. he tries to chase you out of his mind as he succumbs to the cess.
not quite plug!hobie who lights a joint and then pulls his dick out the next day, hard and heavy, and strokes it thinking about his pretty little client— friend? whatever — hips stuttering as he wraps his hand around his thick base. he's tried to shake you off, went all day distracting himself with this and that, but it's not working.
not quite plug!hobie who cums in white spurts splattering on his chest to the thought of making you cum in a room filled with smoke, some old r&b playin as he dicks you down the way he's been wanting to since the first time your pretty ass came to him asking for some weed. he wants you bent over on the end of his bed, eyes low and red while he fills you up and fucks you good, gives you his dick like he feels you so rightfully deserve.
not quite plug!hobie who you seriously can't stop thinking of. last night's smoke session has you on edge, so you light another joint, but weed always gets you horny, so when you slip your fingers into your panties and touch yourself to the thought of the pretty darkskin boy with the piercings and cool hair pushing his fat cock into your pretty hole, you blame it on the mary jane sitting pretty in your veins.
the fault lies in the mary jane for making you think about him laid on top of you, talking you through it as he damn near kisses your cervix, his wiry hands roaming your body. the fault lies in the mary jane for having your legs shaking, imagining your pretty plug folding you in half and ruining you, leaving you and your cunt sore and satisfied and dripping his cum.
not quite plug!hobie who cleans up while telling himself that he can't do this again, that you're not interested in him.
not quite plug!hobie who you block out of your mind as you shower. what you did wasn't right. it won't happen again.
not quite plug!hobie who you don’t buy from for a minute, cause you’re trying to stop smoking so much, for a while. you still keep in contact with him, though. daily texts, funny memes, and of course talks of anarchy. one day, you call him “bee” instead of hobie, and it sticks. he likes it.
not quite plug!hobie… who you fuck yourself to again, this time slipping three fingers inside your greedy cunt to satiate the need for him. it’s almost every night, and it’s a different fantasy every time. 
in the backseat of his car, bent over on his counter, pressed into his couch cushions. your head pressing into your pillows while visions of hobie’s lips pressed to your ear praising you endlessly for being his good girl and taking him so well torment you. you’re insatiable, but when you text you have to pretend like you don’t want his piercing scraping against your clit as he eats you like a man starved.
not quite plug!hobie who has the same dilemma as you.. he can’t even go a couple of hours without growing hard in his sweats, glimpses of you spread out on his bed with your thighs thrown over his shoulders, or you face down ass up, sobbing in pure ecstasy. it’s not made better by y’all’s constant texting, more and more of your personality being revealed to him each day.
you both share one brain, really. and that one brain finds each other attractive, of course, but it’s not just that. it’s not just pure lust. you two have more in common than anyone you’ve ever met, and that sinks ache and want so deep into you that every night and day is spent trying to rid yourselves of it.
not quite plug!hobie who you buy from again almost two weeks later, two weeks that were filled with funny conversations and deep discussions of politics through text. two weeks that solidify the growing feelings you have for each other. this time, he’s wearing a pair of blue sweats and a tight black tee, and his hair is tied up just like the first time you came to his house. this time, brandy’s playing throughout his crib.
you’ve only known each other for about two months, but it feels like longer, for the both of you. you take your seat on the couch as he grabs his stash and his papers, pulling out one paper to roll up.
not quite plug!hobie who sits a little bit closer than he did last time. he smells good. your head is swimming already. 
not quite plug!hobie who lights up and then lets you take the first hit, watching you wrap your glossy lips around the joint like he doesn’t wish they were wrapped around his dick instead. you pass the joint to him and settle onto the couch, raking your eyes over his lanky frame, and what you swear is a hard-on. no way. it has to be the weed. 
he settles back onto the couch too, extending his long arms on the back. his arm comes up behind your head, and you rest your head on it, smiling dopily when he directs his hazy gaze your way. his playlist must have ended. you're left with him and your thoughts.
“you’re funny, you know?” he says through a breath of smoke, passing the joint to you.
“yeah?” you reply, hitting it again. “everyone tells me i’m just corny.”
“you’re not corny. you’re pretty hilarious, if i’m bein’ honest.” 
and there it is again.
not quite plug!hobie whose words light that fire in you again, the fire that you’ve been dousing every night for the past two fucking weeks. fuck, not here. not now. you grab the joint from him in an attempt to push more weed into your system to flush him out, but you meet his pretty fuckin’ brown eyes and they’re low and his lips looks so good and he smells so good and suddenly you’re asking not quite plug who you’re two seconds away from fucking!hobie why he’s been charging you less than everyone else who buys from him and why he invited you into his car and into his house, twice.
and not quite plug who really wants to kiss you right now!hobie can’t even joke and twist his way out of this one. he’s tired of cumming alone to the thought of you. the worst you can do is leave. but the best? god, so many things.
“'s cause i think you’re pretty. n' i really wanna kiss you right now.”
“then do it.”
not quite plug!hobie who tastes like weed and chocolate. the hand that was resting on the back of the couch finds it’s way to the small of your back, fingers drawing nonsensical shapes into it. your hands find his knee and his neck as you press your lips into his. you slide closer to him, and then he’s using the hand resting on your back to push you into his lap, hands settling on your hips as you settle above him, your hands circling around his neck.
“how long?” you ask between kisses.
“since the day you walked up to my car.” he responds quietly, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. he’s quick to trap your lips again.
god, he is hard. and he’s big, you can feel him pressing against the inside of your thigh. you hold your tongue, figuring you could deal with that later. right now, you just need to get out what you’ve been keeping in since the day you two met and you spotted the little ‘a’ hanging from his mirror.
the kiss grows deeper and he grows a little less shy, starting to use his hands gripping your waist to grind you against him. heat floods you when you realize that he's pulling you onto his cock, pressing your cunt against him, separated by the fabric of his sweats and your shorts.
you find his rhythm, falling into the pattern of his soft pushes and presses, a gentle lull of bodies moving against each other that makes you even more comfortable than you already are. soft little groans escaping the both of you, mixing with the smoke and infatuation in the air.
he lets you move the way you want, lithe fingers tracing up your back, hovering over where your hair falls onto your neck. he keeps kissing you for a minute, seemingly frozen. but then he's pulling away to speak, "can i- can i touch your hair?"
you stop moving with a smile. you nod. "yeah. thanks for asking." you kiss him again.
"course, love." he nods, and then he kisses you again. his long fingers snake into your hair, gently and softly. he strokes his hands through your locks, in time with your kisses and the movements of your hips that have started again. hands migrating from his neck, sliding down his chest, laying flat-palmed. your fingers slide under his tee, curling and gripping to pull him ever closer to you.
not quite plug!hobie who could kiss you forever. you could too, but you want more. you need him. so you pull away just a little, murmur "can feel you against me." chills rack through him at your words.
"i know. 'm so hard, darlin'." he pushes his hips up just a little, drawing a muffled whine from you.
"been wantin' you so bad.." you trail off. hobie takes it upon himself to move his hands from your hair to the waistband of your shorts, eyes fixed on yours, watching your every move. you nod, giving him permission to snake his fingers into your shorts, fingers that are met with no resistance.
"no panties? did'ya plan this, doll?" he smiles, slim fingers exploring your wetness, doing what he can with the limited space.
"mhm." you shake your head. "'s more comfortable." he hums in agreement. he circles your clit with his middle finger, dipping towards your entrance to collect more slick. you push down against his fingers, causing him to have to crane his wrist to reach you.
"can we take these off? can't touch you the way i wanna." you blush, averting your eyes to focus on the hand that disappears into your shorts.
"yeah." you breathe shakily, standing up and letting hobie pull them down your legs, hands on his shoulders as balance. your shirt is long, and it falls down to give you some modesty. hobie throws your shorts somewhere behind you before he leans back, giving you space to sit back down.
he looks so fucking good, brown eyes staring at you like you hung the stars in the sky. he reaches out for you, pulling you back into his lap by your hips. his hand disappears under your shirt while his lips find yours again, exploring you more freely this time.
"so wet, doll." he murmurs between one kiss and another, smiling when you whine. his fingers move at different speeds, pressing in different areas and circling at different speeds until he finds a combination that makes you jolt against him, whining "bee."
"thaaaaat's it, love." this time, you don't return your lips to his, instead tucking your head into his neck as you hump shamelessly against his hand, his cock pressing hard and heavy against your thigh. "keep going, baby," he urges, "show me how it feels."
and you do. you shiver and shake and whine and groan in pleasure, pressing kisses in his brown skin as he touches you the way he touched himself thinking about.
not quite plug!hobie who presses his thumb into your clit, sliding his hand farther down to tease your drooling hole. "'s wet, love. g'na feel so good 'round me." you moan loudly at that, at the thought of your fantasies coming true. you cant your hips down, sliding down his fingers until they're seated inside you, stroking gently at your sensitive walls.
pulling them out softly, he curls his fingers, twisting his wrist as you whine and mouth at his neck. "'s okay. you can bite." he nods, catching onto what you were holding yourself back from. you still don't, resign to licking and sucking instead.
until his fingers catch the spongy spot inside you, and your teeth are sinking into the column. "fuck," you damn near shout, pushing yourself onto his hand. he groans in response, pleased to be pleasing you and indulging in the pain you inflict on him. thumb on your clit and fingers playing with that spot, he brings his other hand from your hip to your hair to soothe you, to ground you.
it's sweet, really, his hand in your hair while the other one touches you the way you've been dreaming of. coos and hums meet your ears, soft sounds of affirmation egging you on to let yourself get lost in the pleasure he delivers you. arousal steadily dripping out of your hole, hobie's fingers sliding easier and easier inside you until he can pull out and slip right back in.
"you're so pretty, dove, fuckin' dreamgirl." he murmurs, staring down at your pretty face, arched eyebrows turned down in ecstasy, lips parted. the praise takes you closer and closer to the edge, his deep voice reverberating throughout your entire being, the pangs of arousal in your clit growing harder and faster. you're close.
you're so goddamn close to cumming for a boy you just wanted to buy from. his long fingers reach deep, deeper than you could ever even dream of. “hobie- i- i’m g’na-” you stutter against his neck, hips stuttering against his fingers.
“‘s okay, love, cum. i’m right here.” the rubber band snaps, and you're tightening your thighs around his hand while you shake and shiver, eyes closed tight with soft whines of "hobie, god it feels so good" tumbling from your lips. you tighten around his fingers, too, squeeze him so tight he winces, cause he just knows you're gonna feel so good wrapped around him. he pushes that thought away, though, focused on helping you ride out your orgasm.
fingers pressing into your clit and that spot inside you, he makes sure to milk every last second of your climax, eyes fixed on your ethereal features. aftershocks still racking through you, you finally open your eyes, and he takes it as a sign to gently pull his fingers out of you and wipe them on his sweats, and you shudder at the feeling.
"that was. . so much better than i imagined. n' i imagined it being pretty good." you smile and giggle, placing a kiss on his neck. he laughs in response, raising his eyebrows at your confession.
"bet i'm a better fuck than you imagined, too." the air in the room shifts again, and suddenly you're aware of his cock pressed against your thigh through his sweats again.
"bet you are."
you raise up, kissing him again as your hands find the waistband of his sweats and invite themselves in, meeting his dick that's been hard since you first sat down on his couch. "and i'm the one who planned this? you're free-balling." you murmur against his lips, and he mirrors your words from earlier.
"'s more comfortable, 's all— fuck." he's cut off when you pull his cock out of his sweats and run your finger over his pretty brown tip, dipping into his slit. his hips thrust up, chasing your soft hand. "g'na drive me crazy." he almost whines, jerking against you when you swipe your thumb against his aching tip again.
"just returnin' the favor." you shoot back, raising up to hover over him, swiping his leaking dick through your wetness. he wraps his hand around his thick base, moving in time with your teasing strokes. "you're big." you groan, hesitating to seat yourself on him.
"i know, doll, you can take it though. we'll make you take it." he speaks into your clothed chest, muffled and horny, and you’re sure he means what he says. you drip even more at his words, sticky slick wetting his fat tip.
not quite plug!hobie whose hands are on your hips as you sink down onto his pretty dick, whining into his neck as he encourages you. “you got it, baby, you’re takin’ me so well. god, she’s so wet.”
"she— fuck that's so hot," you moan, eyes rolling back at his words.
"mhm?" he hums.
you don't respond, too busy focusing on his fat cock pushing into you, focusing on the way you both make it fit, exactly like he said you would. finally, he bottoms out, your thighs resting against his sweats.
"g' job, babe. knew you could take me." you jolt against him, his heady words sending another pang of arousal straight to where you two meet.
not quite!plug hobie who you tell to move, raising your hips up as he pulls out, meeting him in the middle as he fills you back up. his hips slot against yours again, and his big chocolate eyes are fixed on yours, gazing upon you in adoration, while your eyes are fixed on where he disappears into you.
"so big, feels s'good. ." you whisper, meeting his gaze. the look in his eyes has chills running down your spine as you raise your hips again, choosing to connect your lips with his again. hobie starts to find a rhythm, now, wrapping his long arms around your waist. you swap spit with him as his hips meet your ass, taking over.
body bouncing with each of his thrusts into your pussy, arms wrapped around his neck. his lips slipping against yours, plump and wet. you both take it slow, basking in the feeling of finally being like this with someone you've wanted since you first saw them.
he fills you up so nicely, thick cock nestled in your achy walls, leaking tip just barely kissing your cervix as he thrusts just a bit harder and you push down a little more.
"y'feel me, darlin? 'm all the way in, at the end of you, god, 'm g'na make you mine." he babbles in pleasure, pushing his hips up even harder. still soft, but firm, and deliberate.
you nod against his lips, hand resting on his cheek. "feel you, bee, feel you in my fuckin' stomach, i swear." you feed off of him and he feeds off of you, kissing and slapping your hips against the others, wild and wanting. "fuckin' me so good, bee, makin' me yours."
"makin' me yours, doll, pussy's squeezin' me like she don't w'na let go."
"don't wanna let go, wan' you so bad." you confess, bringing your ass down onto his cock again. "i— fuck," you sob. his cock curves just right, and with his tip pressing against your spot now, hobie's found new determination.
"that it?" he asks, making sure to keep hitting that spongy patch of skin with every thrust, sheathing his cock in your wet heat.
"'s it, hobie, feels so good, shit." the high has worn off by now, leaving pure emotions and desire driving you two. you get tight around him again, cunt pulsing with every slam of his hips against yours. you feel so good around him, so tight and wet.
"'m g'na—, you're gonna make me cum, bee."
he moves one hand from around your waist at that, sliding between you two to toy with your clit, thumb rubbing wild shapes against the throbbing bud.
"fuck," you cry, grinding against his thumb and down onto his dick.
"you close again, doll? wan' you to wet me up, ma'me a mess," he encourages, big brown eyes fixed on yours like they've been the whole night.
"'m so close, bee, wanna cum for you, wanna wet you up."
"then do it." he mirrors your words from earlier, and the pleasure pulsing through your veins and infatuation swirling around in your blood gets to be too much, and you cum on his cock, still slamming your hips down onto him, meeting his thrusts in the middle. "thaaaat's it, doll." you hear hobie praise through the fog in your mind, bounces turned to messy grinds as you get all tight around him, cumming hard.
"y'alright, love?" he asks, moving your hair out of your face.
"mhm. w'na go again, you haven't come yet." he chuckles at your words, wrapping both hands around your waist and kissing you again.
"lay back, love." he murmurs against your lips, flipping you onto the couch. your back meets the smooth fabric as he lays you down, pulling his tee and his sweats off. you follow suit, stripping your shirt off and throwing it somewhere behind his couch. his watchful eyes fall on your face, then your tits, then your cunt, taking your body in for the first time.
he finds his place on top of you, balancing himself on his elbows as he kisses you again. he reaches down, but you stop him. "lemme do it," you urge, replacing his hand. you line him up with your sopping entrance, nodding twice to tell him to push in.
the stretch is so fucking good, his cock bullying it's way into your tight cunt again.
"fuck, that's it," he curses, watching your face as he seats himself in your once again.
"so deep. ." you trail off, looking down at your stomach, and oh fuck, no way.
"hobie, hobes, look," you urge, and he points his gaze to where you're looking.
"oh, love, look at that. can see myself, right there," he presses down on the bulge he creates, ripping a broken moan straight from your throat.
"fuck me, please," you sob, squirming under him. he nods, understanding, and finds his rhythm easier this time, lean hips slapping against you. your body jolts up the couch with every thrust, choppy whines of nonsensical sentences leaving your mouth.
not quite plug who's absolutely pussydrunk!hobie can't get enough of your cunt, the way you squeeze him oh so tight, the wet squelches of your heat drawing him further into madness. he needs to go deeper, needs to fuck you harder, so he raises up, throwing your legs over his shoulders, leaning back down to bury his cock deep inside you.
"baby, fuck." it's a gritted groan, head rolling back onto the couch as he mouths at your neck, licking and biting at your heated skin. his thrusts are slow and firm, dick kissing your cervix, the slaps sounding out through his living room.
you're both quiet this time around, too blissed out to do anything but fuck, allowing yourselves to succumb to pleasure. every inch of his cock fills you, driving you crazy, driving him crazy too. it's intimate, his lips on your neck, your fingers palming at his back, limbs tangled together. and you can feel it building up in you again.
"'m g'na cum, hobes." he moves one of his arms, bringing his thumb down to rub at your clit, still mouthing at your neck. he lets it happen this time, doesn't urge you or change anything he's doing, and you coast into your climax so gratifyingly that you almost cry, squeezing him tight once again. now, your focus is on making him cum.
"wan' you to cum, hobes."
"gotta pull out, love. we ain' even put a rubber on." he realizes.
"no you don't. 'm clean. jus' fill me up, please." in your right mind, you wouldn't let him, but you're not in your right mind, and neither is he. so he cums with a groan, shaking as he spills pressed against your cervix.
the air's.. different now, satisfied and calm. you both lay there for a while, until hobie's picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up.
after, he lights another joint that you two share tucked under his covers, hugged up like a couple.
not quite plug!hobie holds you as you both fall asleep.
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avtrbee · 9 months
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the prince [2]
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✢summary: what happens when your husband brings home a son that is not yours?
✢tags: arranged marriage gojo satoru x reader, reader is a clan kid, she’s v traditional, obvious cat and jon snow references
✢tw: implications of cheating, mentioned abuse, misogyny ig, fanfic gojo, ooc gojo
✢ a/n: here's part 2! i'd like to emphasize that depsite this being a gojo x reader fic, the main realationships i'll be focusing on are y/n and the kids gojo brings home lmao. also im raw dogging the lore as we go so if there are any inconsistencies, please lmk. as always, have fun and lmk what you think!
i don’t do taglists.
part one ✢ masterlist
If it were up to you, you would have shut the gates of the Gojo estate as soon as the child entered the grounds, but your husband had given him the the maids so quickly that you’re sure they have spread the word around already. You could hear the rumors in your head. Gojo Satoru has brought home a child out of wedlock. Gojo Y/N is barren. Gojo Satoru has a mistress.
You expected Gojo to be frantic, stumbling over his words in explanation as to why he has a son- it was his son, there was no doubt about that- reassuring you about his vows remain unbroken, or whatever else but silence. You are silent too as you watch the child get scurried away by the estate staff to scrub the dirt off his face and to get a change of clothes.
Even as he is being escorted away from you, his cursed energy did not fade. You feel it like how everyone feels Gojo’s, but more raw and untamed. Whoever this child is, it is Gojo Satoru reborn again. 
Silence. Silence is what took the Gojo estate into a chokehold as the maids finish bathing the child and then put him in a spare bedroom a good distance away from yours. The maids must think you resent him. 
Satoru pretends like everything is the same as if the boy had been there since the beginning. During the first night, you watch with a blank face as the cake you've baked for him is eaten by the child. Neither the boy nor Satoru expresses their gratitude towards you. You doubt they even know you baked it.
To his credit, Satoru had treated the child better than you had expected. He is blossoming into fatherhood, you realize and you feel the rage and anger burn in your stomach.
He pats the boy's head and messes his hair, before pointing to his own messy mane exclaiming, "See? We match!"
Satoru had tried to include you in conversations with the boy, even daring to seat him on his right at meals. Satoru would blab after seeing the child gobble mochi. "Mochi is Y/N's favorite too!" He turns to look at you with a bright smile. "Right, Y/N?"
You want to point out that the boy had gobbled everything served to him, but you just give a brief nod.
At night, you sleep like a log- rigid, straight, and quiet. Satoru, on the other hand, remains comfortable, snoozing the day's exhaustion behind him.
Tonight will be the same as it has been for the past few weeks. You stare at yourself in the mirror of your vanity, wondering if your reflection is the perfect example of a foolish woman. How stupid of you to think he was different.
There was nothing but quiet as you prepare yourself to sleep, brushing your hair quietly. You hear the door creak but you do not turn and greet him with a smile like you used to.
“I expected you to be more emotional about this,” came Satoru's words beside you. Me too, you want to reply but held your mouth shut.
You had expected yourself to scream, and let your anger flow through your voice. You wanted to cry until your tears were dry and there wasn't any left. Neither you nor Satoru would be surprised if you use your technique against him in a fit of fury, and if you truly knew your husband, you know he'd take your anger like it was penance. You want to be the fire that burns him badly. But you did none of those.
You are as cold as their blue eyes. You are quiet.
You continue to brush your hair.
"Do you want me to get rid of him?" offers Satoru. "Just say the word, and I will."
You blink in surprise. You meet his eyes in the mirror. Satoru looks nonchalant in his posture with his hands in his pockets. But the fact that his glasses were nowhere to be seen tells you he is not joking.
Your ears recall the promise he made months ago. My wife, my equal. A promise to try, to try to be happy to spite everyone who was determined to make your lives miserable. 
The sudden exhaustion hit you, your shoulders slumping from your previous postures. You lean back, letting your nape rest on the back of the chair. You stare at the ceiling, your head forbidding you to forget how the child looked like. White hair. Blue eyes. You hear Satoru sigh somewhere near you. You hear his footsteps come. From your peripheral, you see his figure beside you. A feather-like hesitant hand touches your shoulder. “I was not unfaithful to you.”
Satoru moves to kneel in front of your sitting figure. He reaches out to your head, and touches his forehead against yours. You find yourself looking up at his eyes, the same shade of eyes that he shares with the child. His hands cradle your face, desperate for you to believe him. “Please. Please, Y/N.”
You remain silent. 
“You’re the only one I have left, Y/N, please.” He begs. There are tears threatening to spill down to his pretty face, and you find some sick satisfaction in them.
That is not true. Your husband has his clan, his estate servants, his high school friends, and his teachers. It is you that has no one but him. By your culture’s traditions, you do not belong to your clan anymore. You know that some elders have begun to doubt their choice in choosing you as the wife of Gojo Satoru with the obvious lack of children, but with the sudden appearance of Gojo-sama’s bastard child, they might annul your marriage by force- or, god forbid, cast you aside for another, more fertile woman.
You do not wish to share your thoughts, but your husband grips your head so desperately. You have made a god beg.
“I know.” You say. The child may be young, but he was old enough to walk and talk small phrases on his own. He must be at least two years old. The child is older than your marriage.
His shoulders immediately drop in relief before quickly detangling himself from you and wrapping his arms around your waist. He slides his head to hide in your neck and like instinct, you welcome him wrapping your hands around his waist.
"Where would you leave him?" You manage to ask, still not believing his offer.
"The cabin," he says. You can see the cracks on your husband now. You spot his hand making a fist inside his pockets, like it pains him to speak. “The one by Nagasaki, remember? I’ll send a maid and give him money every month. We can send him right now. The maids will not say anything outside the estate, not if I threaten to chop their tongues off. We can send him off with a caretaker to a cabin somewhere and leave him there. I- I can visit him a few times a year- just to make sure he’s fine.”
You blink. You did not expect Satoru to offer that. You let the fantasy linger in your head. You imagine the boy’s life so far- abandoned by his mother and unknown by his father. Children do not understand things the way older people do, so it is up to the adults to help and explain certain things. But he has not had an adult in his life before. Would you be happy if you were left alone in the cabin in the middle of the woods with no one but a caretaker for company? Better yet- will the caretaker even stay to care for him without anyone around?
That sounds incredibly lonely, you realize. The premise sounds all too familiar to you- an empty house with no one but servants. But this boy will only get one.
He needs people to protect him, but you are unsure if you’d like to. Your instincts tell you to agree, get rid of the boy before he becomes more of a threat.
“Satoru,” you say slowly, thinking of your next words carefully. “He is just child. He is no danger to me.”
You hold your breath, suprised to hear the words out of your mouth. From your lap, Satoru holds your gaze- piercing eyes trying to read your mind. If he caught your lie he does not show it.
"Are you sure?"
No. "Yes."
-
Hiroki. Satoru had names him Gojo Hiroki.
He spends most of his days inside the estate surrounded by maids or inside his room playing with the toys you off-handedly ordered the day after he arrived. The maids gush about him already, the older ones excitedly murmuring how the little lord acts so much like your husband as a child. You would be a fool not to agree.
Hiroki runs barefoot through the estate, tracking mud on precious tatami floors before a servant finally catches him. He likes people, likes the maids and the servants, and thus has migrated to the kitchen a few weeks after his arrival like he was addicted to places were people are the most. He draws. He draws so much it’s almost ridiculous. You could have a library full of childish scribbles.
Like your husband, he devours his dessert the best before any dish. He eats mochi, ice cream, cookies and whatever sweets there are on the table like it was his last meal. You recall one of the maids gasp as a drop of cream lands on your cheek when he slammed his fork in his cake. 
Satoru is free in his affection for the boy, unexpectedly flourishing in fatherhood. He remains firm in his belief that children should be children and makes an effort to see Hiroki out. Satoru becomes known to sneak the child away from the estate to parks, to mini-vacations you begrudgingly join after Satoru’s incessant pestering. And of course- school. Hiroki made history once again when Satoru announced his decision to enroll Hiroki in a totally normal, public Japanese preschool.
You realize that Satoru was meant to be a father. And one good one at that. It brings you comfort that any children that he is at least good to his son after he confessed his plan to be a teacher after graduation.
Tokyo’s jujutsu highschool would be blessed with his presence, thought one of Satoru’s female seniors would disagree.
“Yo, Y/N-chan,” came a voice.
You twist your body over to the source of the voice, and your face lights up at the sight of a familiar face. “Getou-san!”
If Satoru's presence is an overwhelming force, making everyone and everything bow to him as if he is god, Getou is a dark, uneasy, slinking feeling. His cat-like features morph into a happy expression with a polite smile on his lips.
“Is there a mission today?” You ask as Getou comes nearer. Satoru would try his best to keep any of his classmates away from his estate, but there is nothing he can hide from Getou and Shoko. "Can I come?"
After you had let slip that you wanted to become a licensed sorcerer, Satoru had made it a habit to sneak you into some missions with Getou. You had fretted about the technical legalities and questioned the safety of the public when an inexperienced sorcerer like you enter the battlefield but Satoru merely shrugged and simply gestured to his best friend. We're the strongest!
Getou leans his shoulder on the wall. "Nope, not this one Y/N."
“I see,” you say, failing to hide your disappointment. Sometimes you wonder why you enjoy the missions so much. Was it the thrill of doing something you never would? Perhaps it was the freedom of it all, unleashing your power to poor curses who quiver beneath your feet?
Your ears perked at a familiar high pitched laugh, and your eyes immediately lock to the window where Hiroki soon runs across. He has dried soil on his feet. His pale hair is slicked back with sweat and it glistens against the sun like snow.
A maid forces a laugh in panic as she tries to catch him with his shoes on one hand.
Away from him. That’s why you enjoy it.
Getou follows your line of sight. “How is he?”
You glare at him. “How would I know?”
Everyone knows that Hiroki is a taboo topic if it’s within your earshot, lest they want the you in a foul mood. But Getou does not shy away from his question and only raises an eyebrow, calling your bluff.
“You’re telling me you do not know your own household?”
“The garden is his place,” you sigh., and admitting it felt like defeat. “He likes the grass on his feet and likes big spaces. He gets angsty when a room is too small.”
“Mmhm,” Getou agrees. “Did you know Satoru plans to enroll him in a daycare?”
Your eyes widen in horror. “In a- what?” You shriek. “He has a dozen of servants here willing to serve him-! Does he even realize the risk he’s putting the boy in? Assassins, curses, cursed users…” you trail off, remembering your own childhood. It was strange to be surrounded by servants but feeling so alone at the same time. “I see.” A daycare meant potential friends, friends that you never got to have. “Does…does the boy like it at least?”
“Me?” Getou barks out a surprised laugh. “Shouldn’t you know that?”
You glare at him. Getou meets your gaze unapologetically, almost as if he was challenging you. Finally, he sighs. “Have you ever talked to him at least?”
You roll your eyes. Your sharp tone echoes around the room. “And why would I do that? He is no concern to me.”
"He needs you."
"He does not need me," you snap, suddenly impatient for Satoru to come out of wherever he’s hiding so Getou and him can go. “He will resent me when he’s older, I know it.”
You have seen this same scene over and over again. Children and the wife of the husband do not get along. Both suffer at the existence of the other. This is the fate that Satoru had subjected you to. This is the fate you have set upon yourself when you refused to send him away. You wonder if your kindness will cost you one day.
“Well,” Getou shrugged nonchalantly. “You haven’t given him any reason to like you either.”
You opened your mouth to retort, only to be interrupted by Satoru.
“Getouu,” he whined, comically trudging towards his best friend with a hunched back. “Why are you so early?”
You see Getou open his mouth to reply, but you are lost in your head. You watch Getou ignore Satoru’s childish gimmicks, already dragging him out of the room and towards the door. You feel Satoru kiss your cheek before waving goodbye, but your head was in a daze mindlessly repeating Getou’s words. You feel shiver creep down your spine before shifting your gaze towards the garden where Hiroki’s presence was last.
-
thank you so much for reading guys! i’d love to hear all criticisms and suggestions for this universe <33 please lmk through comments :>
here’s my masterlist
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javen-tiger · 2 years
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who the fuck did the typesetting for tokyopop im gonna beat them up
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rassicas · 2 months
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Marina's Dev Diaries: localization differences
yeah so I just read through all of Marina's Dev Diaries in Japanese while cross checking it to English localization, just to see how faithfully translated it is and.... GREAT NEWS there's like no significant changes! Like there's the expected minor moving things and wording it different to flow well in english of course, but in terms of overall meaning and characterization its very faithful. I'll cover some minor changes I found but like. again these are so minor it doesn't really matter.
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4th Entry Localization: "Poor Pearl doesn't know what to do with a free moment anymore. I'm always catching her bouncing with anticipation."
JP: "Pearl is always bouncing from side to side whenever she has a free moment" This is a reference to Pearl's side hops she did in octo expansion to get hyped and charge her special...this was localized to her "warming up her vocal cords" for the sake of story and the english version just refuses to acknowledge the side hops thing which is. minor inkling biology tidbit at most but eh whatever
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8th Entry localization: "I'll handle system management myself! And I think user guidance would be a great fit for Pearl."
imo in JP marina seems more certain and enthused about pearl being in charge of user guidance? I considered not adding this to this post it's barely noteworthy. pearlina crumbs ig
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8th Entry Localization: "All that experience making training stages from my days as a tutor at that training program is about to pay off!" JP specifies that Marina tutored at a Takozones training program. What's really annoying is that Takozones are just called something like "Rival Octoling" or "Enemy Octoling" or just "Octoling" in english, but they're supposed to be a specific rank of elite female octoling soldiers. this is just a longtime issue with how muddied octarian classifications are between english and jp lol
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12th Entry Localization: "Pearl is joining us too. She doesn't seem to get what it's all about, but she's usually down for whatever. Together, the two of us will make sure Eight gets through it safe!" JP: "Pearl is joining us too. With her being like "I don't really get it, but 'cuz it sounds like fun I'll go!", us two will keep Eight safe!"
This is a super minor change but it's cute getting a quote from pearl where she sounds actually hyped for it vs a "yeah ig shes down for it"
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Acht's Letter 1 Localization: ""You should be diligent and dedicated, like a true Octarian!" I heard it so many times that it turned into white noise."
I just wanted to share a pun here that doesn't translate instead of "white noise" Acht says an equivalent idiom of "I got calluses on my ears (from hearing the same thing over and over)" The word for "callus" is homophonous with "octopus", tako. lol octopus jokes
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vampirekinn · 2 years
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WHAT THE FUUUUUUCK FUCK YOU GRR MARTIN KYS
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uplatterme · 1 year
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—sub!scara/dom!reader, afab!scara (with the use of he/him pronouns and his clit being mentioned like twice ig), gn!reader | toys, overstimulation, inappropriate use of pyro vision, knife play
—dawg. who is this guy again.
“what? don’t tell me that’s all you can take.” your voice becomes an additive source of annoyance to him, flinching at how you’re looking down on him. a chill flowing throughout his whole body
he sits there on the bed, his fingers pressing down on the pink vibrator against his clit, just like you asked. the cord in your hands as you play with its levels. 
he’s already breathing heavily, his teeth gritted as he would rather die than to let out a moan like this. all spread out showing obedience despite the continued refusal that keeps coming out of his pretty mouth.
the balladeer opens his mouth ready to spit his spiteful insults, only to find him closing it back just as quickly when an “ahh~” betrays him.
you help him out, pressing his shaky hand for stability that causes scaramouche to easily arch his back. a few spurts of his cum splattering all over the bedsheets.
“fuck—fucking…haaate you…” he lets out, unable to stop his already weak body from shaking.
the milky fluid soaks through his shorts, the vibrator still on his numbed fingers. you set it to the lowest speed which earns a whine from him. 
he then shudders from the cold feeling of metal on his thigh when you grab a tiny dagger, tracing its sharp tip on his skin.
he watches intensely, drunk over that feeling. he’s urging you to stab him. he doesn’t know whether it’s so he finally has a reason to decapitate you or simply because he wants to feel how badly he wants you to draw blood out of him.
you didn’t, much to his disappointment. what you did, however, was use that same dagger to run a cut along the bottom of his shorts. a free slit for you to do whatever you want to.
two of your fingers pump him full. “mmmf—”
you didn’t need to prepare him, his hole already wet from your earlier advances. it’s an agonizing feeling for him, how he desperately bites down on his lips, his eyes rolled back as you scissor him inside, stretching him apart with no warning.
“you really need a cock in there, huh?” you say, feeling him clench against your fingers.
he doesn’t answer you, already too distracted with how you move inside of him.
which is why, it’s definitely his fault when he cums so easily once a fake cock is shoved inside of him with your hand.
he quivers on the bed, his hips going wild as you continue to plunge it into him. “it’s warm, isn’t it?”
“h-hot…so-hooott…” he complains, the use of your pyro vision easily reducing his resistance.
you turn the vibrator back up, his body wants to escape from the intense vibrations but your other hand keeps it on as it continues to abuse his swollen clit.
“w-wait—cumming…aaahh~!”
scara’s mind is nothing more as it melts due to pleasure. 
he lays there with a smile on his face, grinning like the bastard that he is, even if you know that he’d force you to never speak of it again once he gets off this high.
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jinkiezzsstuff · 17 days
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Hello!!!
Can I put in a writing request??
Because I love your writing!!! 🥹
Can you do (either human alastor.. or demon alastor i love both but human alastor has a chokehold on me haha) but his partner is plus size and they are very self conscious about it
Can be smut if you like (I'm waaaay okay with that)
omg yessss i’m gonna do human alastor because he does need some attention <3 also felt this personallyyyy so i did it sooo fast 🙈 ima chunky gorl myself and with summer approaching things always get tough. i lot of what i wrote here is my own personal experience and shit so i don’t want anyone to think this is something they should feel or notice or be ashamed of! Just so you know!
warnings: SMUT 18+, gender neutral but use of clit, feral alastor, Human!alastor, kinda ooc in the way he is ravenous for reader sexually, reader doesn’t know he’s a murderer, self loathing, self hate, body worship maybe, biting breifly, alastor kinda rich or whatever for the time, insecure reader, plus size reader, body part like stomach thighs highlighted, crying, husband alastor, comfort from Al. swearing, lmk if there’s anything else! NOT PROOFREAD YALL
also i wanted to use junoisded ‘s work (on IG) but i don’t think they like things reposted unless asked and i am way to shy but go check them out their human alastor is mouthhhhh watering gawd
Closing the door behind you, you sat your bag on the table a sullen look on your face. It was particularly difficult week for you, it was getting warmer in New Orleans and when it got warm what was really meant was hot humid gross. It almost felt embarrassing at times to leave the house, the clothes companies made weren’t anything like what other people wore they were hideous, and you sweat, and just felt kind of self conscious.
Especially with Alastor. His popularity grew expeditiously over the last couple of years, with people now being able to recognize his voice all around. His popularity was a gift and a curse, a gift because you didn’t have to work through the stock market issues whereas many people your age did, and a curse because more women and men alike wanted him.
You weren’t jealous because Alastor made it pretty clear he only had eyes for you, however you couldn’t stop the comparison, you usually felt decent about yourself and your looks and Alastor made you more assured in your beliefs. But as more people would recognize him, and he’d give them that charming smile, and they’d flirt, you’d get a little jealous and insecure.
You walked into yours and Alastors shared bedroom, slipping off your shoes and looking into the mirror. You wanted to buy some nice clothing for an event you and Alastor were attending within the week, it was very hush puppy as it served contraband, however you couldn’t find anything at the market, and the tailors would be just too much to ask of Alastor.
Your lip quivered not with sadness but frustration, you just wanted to be at the same level as everybody else, without the issues, and being constantly told how to eat or use your body or dress yourself. Sitting on the bed your thighs spread out around you, stomach resting atop. Tears kept flowing pitifully as you took a moment to wrap your head around your spiraling thoughts. Taking a deep breath you wrapped your arms around your back, begining to take off the clothes that stuck to your sweaty body.
‘Loose leisure clothes.’ You chanted as you shook your trousers to your ankles and opened the drawers to your dresser. You remembered as you caught sight of one of Alastors red suit jackets, a gentleman who had commented that Alastor was far too small to lend his jacket to you on a cold night, which make you feel so bad about yourself. Slamming the drawer closed you cradled your head, this wasn’t fair, you would be ten times better with yourself if people weren’t so casually cruel.
You were okay, you were loved, but it seemed in other aspects of life people had to assure you weren’t due to how you looked. “My dear, what’re you doing all dressed down like this?” Alastors voice rang out joyfully. With a jump and a squeak your arms go to cover your body, however Alastor had already turned his back for you. “I’m so sorry sweetheart! I should’ve knocked!” Even though Alastor was being respectful, a nagging voice in the back of your head told you it was because he couldn’t stand the sight of you.
“Uhm, well you can look actually…” You muttered voice just above a whisper as you rubbed your arm. Alastors hands were on his hips, elbows pointed out head facing down, then he perked up head looking behind him. Smile present on his face his eyes shamelessly drank you up. “I couldn’t find any clothes,” You mutter your throat closing as the tears returned with the thoughts of before.
Alastors body finally turned his smile falling as he watched your from recoil away from his gaze. Stepping into the room his dress shoes clinked against the wooden floor as he approached you his arms outstretched to you. Immediately you fell into his embrace holding back the urge to cry, you wanted to be as strong as he was; smiling through no matter.
However when his hand began rubbing your back, soft words of worry falling from his lips, you lost it. Burying your face into his shoulder you cried, muttering your insecurities into him as he cradled you. “And Alastor they must think i’m a joke, you’re so small compared to me.” You cried out, pulling back to look into his chocolate eyes. Quickly he pulled a handkerchief from his vest pocket, his smile now a frown as he watched tears roll down your cheeks.
“My my, that’s the best part doudou. I love having flesh to bite, grip, squeeze,” Alastor grinned speaking through his closed teeth as he gripped your waist pulling your hips to his and you looked down hiding your face at his ridiculous nickname for you. “I feel proud to be able to feed you, my mother would be proud too, she’d absolutely love you. Worry not my dearest doe, i will have anything tailored to your need, and any crude bastard to comment on you I will hand slaughter the night of thee event, just to send a little message.” Alastor puffed his chest into you, his voice strangely dark and possessive, his eyes gleaming with pride as he kneaded your flesh beneath his fingers.
You never thought about it like that Alastor being able to properly provide for you, no; that was the fun of Alastor though he always knew how to twist things into something better than. Not to mention the idea of him being willing to commit a crime for you in the midst of a serial killer going around, that was something very special to you, strangely enough.
“Alastor you’re insane sometimes, but i love you.” You grinned finally, in turn making Alastors smile return larger then ever. Hands crawling up his chest and neck, you pulled him close and into a kiss. Your immediately Alastor gave into your tug, crashing his lips quickly onto your own roughly, his body grinding into your own as he did so, impatient to show you how much you mean to him though his psychical affections.
His hands gripped every little bit of flesh they passed, trailing up and down your body rolls and all, indulging his desire for you. You moaned lightly into his mouth when you felt the hard pressure of him pressed against your thigh. Alastor pulled away biting your lip as he did so, dragging it out. His eyes were lidded and one of his perfectly gelled curls fell forward and down touching the brim of his eyeglasses. “See how quickly you make me indecent my dear? Oh sweet doe, you make me so disgusting.” Alastor whined in a way, which you’d never heard, and stuffed his head into your neck, kissing, biting and sucking at your warm neck
“Alastor i’m sweaty!” You squeal as he dragged his tongue up your neck, biting at the flesh under you chin. “I know,” He mumbled quickly barely breaking away from decorating your neck. “So stop!” You huffed noncommittally as your hands came down to rest on his shoulders, lightly pushing him. “Why my little doe, you taste better this way.”
Alastor pulled back his coy smile on display as he did so, there was something so disbelieved and feral about how he looked despite not being unkept in the slightest. You felt slightly embarrassed by him admitting he liked you sweaty, but it was also comforting knowing that things you thought made you repulsive, actually attracted him.
“Come to bed with me, chérie?” Alastor hummed slyly, pulling your wrists gently toward the direction of the bed, where he was walking. “To sleep?” You asked flatly eyebrow raised, this caused a genuine laugh to bubble out of Alastors chest his head shaking just a bit. “No, and i think you knew that.” He whispered as he tugged you into him and then down onto the bed. You tensed as he did so, sitting up on your elbows you look at him and scold him.
You paused as Alastors gaze beat down on you hotly, it was sinful how he was looking at you with that cheshire grin on his face. He pulled off his glove with his teeth and used his degloved hand to remove the other one before he undid his vest, chucking it aside carelessly. You took a deep breath your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you watched him closely.
Yes you’ve had sex with Alastor before, although neither of you had a high libido so it wasn’t often, and when it was it wasn’t needy like now, no, it was loving, passionate. Alastor tossed his shirt aside crawling ontop of you right after, groaning as he pressed his bulged into the warmth of your thighs. Whimpering you covered your eyes unable to face the lustful look he was giving you.
His warm flesh melted into yours as he lowered himself ontop of you, his skin hot and sticky from being out in the louisiana heat, his breath tickled your skin as his lips dragged around your neck teasingly. “Gosh Al, I - you’re making me feel so- please.” You moaned quietly unable to place the feeling coursing through you. A mixture of wanting to beg him to devour you and wanting to hide yourself away from his heated gestures.
“What is is it you need, my dear?” His voice was sweet like honey as he breathed his sin into your ear, hand coming up under the leg hole of your undergarments, inching closer to your core. You breath was quievered as your hands found there way to his slightly musicled biceps, sinking your nails into them. Finally he backed up on his knees, and yanked down your undergarments, making you gasp.
Your husband has never been this, it made you dizzy and confused, why has he been hiding such ravenousness from you? Alastor looked down at you with pity, your legs reflexively closed before he could get a glimpse of your pretty. “Please darling don’t be modest, I need you more then ever now. I’m a starved man don’t you know? I need your quench.” You watched him as he spoke, his eyebrows knitted his face soft as he mockingly pleaded with you while he undid the button in his slacks and soon pulled down the zipper.
With jagged breaths you watched him disrobe, pulling his cock from his boxers and stroking it for you to see. Precum dripped from the tip and down his shaft, mixing into the dark coiled public hair at the base. “Oh fuck Alastor,” You whined looking away, you heard him chuckle at an octave you’ve never heard before. “What’s wrong darling? Can’t stand to see how perverse you make me? How cruel, honestly.” He huffed before his warm hands came to grip on your knees, yanking them apart. “My dear, you’re absolutely devine, you have no idea. It’s sickeningly cruel on my part, but I can’t help but be greedy about the way I only get to have you. In a world of commons, i get the rare.” Alastors hips slotted in between your thighs like many times before but this time you were so soaked you needed no foreplay. The head of his shaft prodded at your entrance, making your hips tilt forward attempting to gain friction and contact.
“Please Al, don’t make me beg you.” You moaned quietly, ashamed of how quickly you bent to his will. Alastor grinned down at you, admiring your body relaxed and needy beneath him. There wasn’t a soul he’d replace you for, you were everything and more. He could come clean about his murders and you’d kiss his cheek and serve him some whisky for his stress, because you were family, you were his.
Alastor slid into you slowly, feeling every inch of you against him, his thighs pressed against your own, he loved the feeling of you consuming him all at once. The way your body embraced his own was heaven on earth, you were his comfort that he didn’t deserved. As he watched you beneath him gasp, shake and moan as he sunk into slowly, harshly and repeatedly, he whispered sweet nothings to you. He let out a condescending chuckle while calling you a good pet, told you your body was his to love too and for shame for berating it.
You saw stars and he would slowly pull out and slam back in, believing that was the extent of this session. However, Alastor pressed his hips fully up against your own, kneading the softness of your belly as he stilled. Leaning down he captured you in a kiss, catching you off guard. You reciprocated fisting his curly hair and pulling him closer, which in response made him growl and grunt into you. He felt you clench around him at the sound, and in the moment decided he’d show you how good you make him feel, how much he loves you.
Suddenly Alastor pulled his hips back, and grinded back down into you, his public hair tickling your swollen clit, juices from your arousal squelching as he did so. This time he wasn’t slow, his pace was even and moderate, fucking you into the mattress so hard, the springs snapped, the wood creaked and you swore the bed frame was moving. Alastor pulled away from your swollen lips burying his face in your neck, he moaned for you.
You rolled your eyes back at the sounds he made, ahs, uhs and groans that were only for you. “Oh fuck Alastor i’m gonna cum,” You squeaked clenching your toes tightly as he jackhammered into you, breathing and gasping into your ear as he felt you grip him. Alastor wasn’t proud to admit it but he was too weak to respond, instead he bit down, sucking and groaning into your skin. His pace got clumsy as you cried out in ecstasy, coiling your body around him as you came harshly.
Your arm around his back, one arm around his neck and gripping his hair, and your legs tightly locked around your hips, yeah Alastor couldn’t resist himself from shooting strings into you. Your body jolted as he came shaking your while body, his grunts and whines making your sensitive hole clench him nearer. Without a warning his body collapsed ontop of yours, a deep breath escaping him as he finally relaxed. “I’ve never felt that before dear,” Alastor admitted after a moment of silence. “Me neither, made me forget about everything.” You say hazily, your voice lifted and raw from the noises you let out.
Alastor chucked his fogged glasses to the side, pulling himself out with a huff. Smiling sweetly you watched him gently place a kiss on your stomach and walk off. Sitting up you nearly went to call after him, before his naked body came waltzing back with a rag. “Wanna have a lazy evening in chérie?” You hummed approvingly, and attempted to take the rag, he scoffed at you and lightly pushed your hand away. Softly and embarrassingly so, he cleaned you from himself, enjoying the sight while he was at it.
Once finished Alastor returned the rag as you readied the bed, wanting to cuddle with him. Coming back in Alastor went to grab you both clothes before you called to him. “Can, well- i want to feel you still?” You questioned more than said. Shutting the drawer with a slam he grinned like the little cheshire he was and crawled into bed with you. You pulled him in and he you, nuzzling yourself into his chest you whimpered at the contact, feeling various emotions run through you.
“I chose you my dear, for many reasons not only your looks, your love, your passion but your body too, I love all parts of you, and I know how thoughtless people can be, I will protect you from those comments in the future.” Alastor whispers into your head kissing the top of it right after. You caressed his chest with your nails, throwing your leg over his torso. “Thank you Alastor. I love you too, hell there’s nothing that would make me not love you.” Alastor scoffed his grin returning. “Even murder?” He questioned angling his neck to the side to meet your eyes. Smiling up at him you gave a point nod. “Even murder.”
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