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#why didn't i think this through beforehand
everlastingdream · 2 days
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The soulmate au
"Querida, why haven't you told us beforehand?" Ms Addams asks. Enid freezes with a glass of water right in the middle of the kitchen.
"It wouldn't change anything, Mother", Wednesday huffs. Enid hears them going down the hallway to the living room.
"Wednesday Friday Addams, you finally found your very own soulmate and it doesn't change anything? We should at least welcome her properly".
Enid felt her wolf ears peaking through her hair. Now that full moon was just a couple of days away she found herself not exactly controling her inner wolf.
And besides! Wednesday found her soulmate?? Soulmates are real???
Despite Addams being a bit... excentric, they were still one of the most old families there is. So if Ms Addams say there are soulmates in their world, then there probably are.
"Because meeting my soulmate is horrible as I said to you it will be".
"Please, my little snake, you even brought Enid to meet us and didn't let her stay in the guest house. And you think I'll believe it's been horrible for you?"
There were days when Enid considered her hightened senses a curse. Like that one time when she woke up because her brother was getting... intimate with his girlfriend in the car in front of their house. Or when she accidentally found out she was Wednesday's soulmate apparently?
Enid tiptoyed to the kitchen door, feeling bad for spying on her roommate's talk with her mother, but still shook to the core. And it seemed to involve her as well?
"Well, Enid should not know about this nonsense. So if any of you tell any single thing to her, I'll poison you without a second thought".
Enid heard slight quiver to her voice, and Ms Addams seemed to catch it as well.
"Darling, but-"
"I'm not her soulmate, you understand?" Wednesday's voice was still quiet but pained and enraged. "She's mine and I'm not hers, okay? I'm an 'extra' Addams".
Silence fell on three of them. Enid felt a little faint even if she didn't understand a thing. But her heart squeezed hard in her chest.
"No, no, no, querida, it can't be", she heard Ms Addams muttering. "Even if you an 'extra' Addams, but is Enid really you soulmate then?"
"She is. And she is happy now. So if she'll learn that I'm not going to live past the 25, then she'll just blame herself because of something she can't control, so not a single word from any of you".
"WHAT", Enid found herself smacking the door open, growling. The hell they're talking about?!
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"Energized with all the glory."
F!reader x FAMOUS!Satoru Gojo
♡ Tags. Female reader x Satoru Gojo, rough sex, drinking, uses of the words "princess", "my pretty", "my dear", and "Pretty girl", swearing.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. THIS IS SMUT.
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Satoru is beautiful, and that's an understatement. Short, fluffy white hair, smooth fair skin, long white eyelashes, long fingers, a slim yet muscular build, a silky voice, glossy lips, and of course, his hypnotic blue eyes.
So, it's no surprise that a modeling agency came to him one day, or that he became famous in three days, and of course, it's not a surprise you saw him in every magazine, every post you see on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, TikTok, you name it.
But, the supermodel saw you once, and was obsessed the very second it happened.
He just saw one of your random posts, and needed to know more about you.
So, he slid into your dm's.
...
And now, here we are, in his mansion, sipping red wine while you sit on his lap.
It was such a sultry and soft vibe, dim lights, him wearing a black tuxedo, and you wearing a beautiful red dress he bought you beforehand. And if you asked him why he did all this, he wouldn't tell you. Mainly because he himself doesn't know.
"Hm. I think you look really nice in that dress, my dear. It fits you perfectly, dontcha think?" He asks with his cheeky grin, booping you on your nose.
You nod in response, a soft smile on your lips as you look up at him. The wine is clearly expensive, maybe a bit too expensive for your liking. You're just a normal girl, living a normal life. You didn't expect this supermodel to invite you to his house, one of his many houses.
But, it all made sense after his endless compliments on how beautiful you are, and of course, it made even more sense when his hand started to wonder down your body, gently squeezing your nipples through the thin fabric.
"S-Satoru, H-he—" You get cut off by him pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, and you can feel his smirk from the way you try to hide your moan. His other hand starts to slip lower, rubbing against your thigh as you start to feel a poke against your ass.
"Hmm... It's okay, princess. Just relax for me, yeah?" He says with that charming smile, rolling up your dress to expose your panties that are soaking.
How can you say no? The supermodel let you in his house, gave you a fancy dress, fancy whine, and—he looks gorgeous. And, not very many people can experience this, so why not enjoy it?
And that's how you ended up in his bed, head pushed into the pillows, him ramming into you with the meanest thrusts you've ever had. You scream for him eyes rolling back while both your bodies continue to collide in a back-and-forth motion, him whispering "You're doing so good, my pretty— fuck- not many can take me this well~" he slurs out, leaning down to bite your shoulder.
"S-Satoru, p-please, be gentle— nghh- y-you-" You cut yourself off with a streaking moan when he goes faster, and you can feel his smirk when he talks.
"D-oh, why would I be gentle when I h-have the best pussy in the world r-right here?" He asks in a low and breathless way, voice high like he's about to moan or cum.
You don't answer, you can't answer. You just keep babbling his name, the feeling of him pushing in and out of you, hands rubbing circles into your hips, and his whines, it's all too much.
"Pretty g-girl, I-I fuck, I'm g-gonna c-c-" But he can't even finish his sentence when you clench around him. He cuts on the spot, strings of long and hot cum shooting into you. You follow suit, with him still grinding against you through both your orgasms, leaving you overstimulated and shaking, not to mention out of breath and about to pass out.
But, he quickly lets go of you and rolls you over, smiling as he pushes the hair out of your face. How does he look so pretty even after sex?
"You okay? Did I hurt you too much?" Yes. He hurt you a bit too much. But was it worth it? Oh, hell yeah.
You fucked a supermodel.
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dr-spectre · 1 day
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Splatoon 2 Callie Explained - (In my interpretation)
So in this blog post I wanna go over what is going on with Callie in Splatoon 2 because there's a lot of misinformation being spread around due to how unclear the events of Splatoon 2 were. I'm going to provide my own thoughts into how the Hypnoshades actually affect Callie and clear up what hypnosis actually does to a person, because a lot of people think that Callie was kidnapped and then mind controlled but its actually a lot more complicated than that. I've done a ton of painstaking research into this so if you would like some sources to what I'm saying then I'll be happy to provide it in the comments below when asked!
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Okay so first off we need to establish one thing right off the bat, no, Callie was not kidnapped in the sense that she was snatched up by DJ Octavio and then brainwashed while she was kicking and screaming trying to stop him. The idea that Callie was snatched up randomly is simply not to true due to the fact that the OFFICAL Splatoon 2 relationship chart states that Callie was willing to hear out DJ Octavio and go with him. Why? Because if you look at Sunken Scroll 21 and 22 in Splatoon 2, it gives insight into Callie's declining mental health as she struggles to put on a happy face as she walks through a huge crowd of people, as well as the fact that she drew a squid with a sad face on it in Sunken Scroll 22 which is a very clear giveaway that she isn't doing well. Also keep in mind Marie was busy with her own solo thing too and Callie even states in the relationship chart that she's busy and lonely. It also explains why Callie doesn't experience any sort of trauma, turmoil or resentment after Splatoon 2 because well, she wasn't kidnapped and the shades were not forcibly put on her. (Also in Squid Sister Stories chapter 7 there's an artwork piece of Callie walking towards DJ Octavio's star mark so there's that too....)
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Now I want to get into how hypnosis actually affects a person and what being hypnotized is actually like. Being hypnotized is described as having "heightened attention, increased focus and heightened suggestibility." You do not get put to sleep and become a puppet as popular media shows it to be, but instead you are hyper aware of what is going on around you. It's also said to be highly relaxing and can help with patients who struggle with anxiety and other mental issues, which might explain why Callie kept putting the shades back on, she enjoys wearing them to some degree as it helps her deal with the pain of being a celebrity, kind of like an addiction but unfortunately Splatoon 2 doesn't explore it at all and Marie (CALLIE'S OWN GOD DAMN COUSIN BTW!) jokes about it..... ugh...... at least she overcomes that addiction OFF SCREEN unfortunately....
Now that part about "suggestibility" is important to consider because contrary to popular belief, you don't lose awareness and memories while you are hypnotized and the person who is in charge of hypnotizing you, CANNOT force you to do anything that's against your wishes and you do NOT lose control of your behavior. Meaning that on some level Callie actually wanted to side with the Octarians because her life beforehand was shitty. The shades do not control Callie but instead put her in a hypnotic state that relaxes her and increases her attention and suggestibility.
For example, if DJ Octavio were to tell Callie to kill Marie instead of Agent 4, she would probably have a ton of hesitation about it and probably not follow his orders. Callie doesn't want to kill Marie, but she doesn't care or know about Agent 4 and that's why she had no problems with following DJ Octavio's suggestions. She also didn't try to attack Marie during the final boss when she was flying around and she just wants Marie to leave her alone because guess what, she's suffering from mental health issues!!!!!! And her relationship with Marie got worse and worse overtime as shown with the Squid Sister Stories.
If you were hypnotized and then the person responsible of your hypnotism handed you a weapon and told you to kill your best friend, you wouldn't do it because it's against your wishes (unless you secretly wanna kill your best friend for some reason....)
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With all of this information laid out, it actually does make Splatoon 2's admittedly mid story a bit more interesting, it shows that Callie does have these dark traits and flaws about her, and the Hypnoshades bring out the worst in her. The angry, power hungry and harsh side to her, that was even built up from Splatoon 1. If you look at the dialogue from the Naughty vs. Nice, Early Bird vs. Night Owl and Callie vs. Marie Splatfests, you can see that Callie actually got upset at Marie multiple times due to her attitude.
It really does make Tidal Rush more emotional and powerful as a song if you really think about it. It's a clashing of two cousins whose relationship has been broken apart and Marie is desperately trying to reach out to Callie and fix what she has done. Maybe Marie blames herself for why Callie ran away and that's why she sounds like she's on the brink of tears in the song.... And it makes Spicey Calamari Inkantation more triumphant as a song too.
It does make me a bit angry that Nintendo doesn't wanna dive into these topics as well as Callie. She is flawed and has dark traits about her but, she doesn't try to change or grow from them in any significant or well written way, its like they forgot about it in Splatoon 3 which.... sucks man. I'm hoping we get a Side Order type deal with the Squid Sisters for Splatoon 4 and we dive deeper into the psyches of these girls, because what we have is really interesting but it lacks explanation and nuance and everyone keeps boiling it down to "welp Callie got kidnapped and mind controlled!" Which... its more complex than that... With Agent 3 and Marina it's for sure mind control and i would like to talk about them in a future blog but, with Callie? It's different and there's a lot of layers a lot of people tend to ignore because Splatoon 2's story is just... meh.
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starpirateee · 2 days
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Hi!! Could you write one of the Curtwen prompts I made, yet didn’t cut it? I love your writing style!!
Honestly there was a bit of deliberation here because you put some really good ideas out there on the form, but I did say I'd write em myself, and by all means, I'll still do it! So, I decided to go for this prompt:
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Would you take a modern au from me? Can I do that?
I mean, I'm going to anyway, because I have a dire need to call Curt and Owen husbands (and also for wider Starkid lore), but i just thought I'd warn you beforehand!
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"Agent Carvour, have you found anything yet?"
Owen leaned back away from his research. He'd been looking at the same page now for a while, trying to make some sense of it. Redacted government files were hard to get hold of, but even harder to make ends of. His system had been trying to translate it, but not even he had the software for that.
"Quite possibly, sir. I have a few sources, at least."
"What have you got?"
With an air of something that was almost excitement and almost elation, Owen pulled up a series of documents and started the walk through them. "Well, sir, the easiest source was from a few years ago. There's a company in Michigan that's been trying to conduct various temporal experiments under their parent company— some kind of analyst company, I think. They're surprisingly ordinary. Anyway, apparently the experiments just… Stopped. They never drew a conclusion on whether or not their research was connected to what was on the other side."
This had all started when Chimera had dug up a series of centuries old reports about people claiming to have looked into the eyes of old gods. None of the people had known each other, but all of the reports showed some form of consistency, and all told of great, unknowable power.
So, they had decided to look into it, to see if there had been anyone else who'd dared to brave the process of trying to find an answer. Owen was one of those lucky enough to find himself with the resources to start a thorough investigation.
"They didn't finish?"
"No, I don't know what happened, but the reports just stopped one day."
"Is there anything else?"
"An american government report, but it's as hard as you can imagine to decipher. Most of it is redacted…"
"Anything worth noting?"
Owen nodded, carefully turning back and switching the tabs. This felt a little like he was giving a presentation that he hadn't prepared for, and he hadn't felt like this in quite some time. He took a breath, trying to slow down the rampage that was going on in his head. "They started in the early noughts. 2005, to be precide. That's the earliest I'd gotten without looking at those old reports from the pioneers. A branch of the military tried to build a gateway to the other side, to investigate what existed outside of our plane. I don't know names, only one. The name of the man who performed the experiment."
"They got this gateway open?"
"Yes, sir. And they sent someone through. I think there's a good reason why his is the only name they disclosed."
"Why?"
"Because he was declared dead, sir."
His screen still displayed the document, and the man's name sat among the black markouts, clear enough to see. Cross, W.D. Apparently, he'd ventured into the portal, and nobody heard from him or saw him after the date of the experiment. They gave up the search after a month, and after that, Colonel Cross was indeed declared dead.
"So, another dead end?"
"Maybe not. I'll do what I can to uncover this with what I've got available, but it was scanned, so…. It might take some time." Owen was normally confident in his abilities, and uncovering government documents was a difficult yet necessary part of the job. There was something almost genuinely enthralling about scraping off the parts that the world's governments wanted to keep secret. It felt like giving people a small yet surprisingly effective slice of justice every time.
"Keep looking, Carvour. We need to know if this is viable, or even worth our time…"
If Owen had any kind of normal life— if he and his husband didn't both do the dirty work for secret operation services— he would have a blast trying to decide how to describe the intricacies of what he'd been researching lately. The throws of domestic life confounded him to no end, which was why it was so funny when he and Curt tried to imitate that.
The otherwise simple question of "how was your day" turned into a battle of who could craft the most believable lie that better concealed what they'd actually done. Neither wanted to jeopardise their jobs, and Curt had always been brilliant at crafting stories, so it was never dull.
He started to think about what today's excuse would be. Something about pioneers, or the Oregon trail, or perhaps he could bring up that old, dead colonel somehow, that would be interesting to add to the pile.
--
"You know what I'm gonna ask already…"
By the time he got home, Curt was already waiting for him, and the mid-spring sun was starting to set. For anyone else, it was a day at the office, but the trails he had begun to uncover had really put all other days at the office to shame.
He laughed softly, having prepared this answer a number of hours before, and took up a position on the couch. "No, love, you first. I insist."
"Fine, okay," Curt answered with a chuckle. "It was nothing really, just your standard… But, the bear returned, and in about a month, I'm gonna get really rich and run off to central Europe, with a really pretty lady and a dollar store box of magic tricks."
"The same bear from last month?"
"Yeah. Bastard won't leave me alone."
"Sounds wild. Are you coming back after your plans to run off with this really pretty lady?"
"Plan is to cut myself off after three weeks, but at this rate, I might not make it two."
"Not good enough?"
"Owen, I'm a bit too gay for that." To sell his point, he flashed his wedding band, and Owen laughed harder. "Besides," he added, covering his own bout of laughter. "Who needs a fake wife when I've got my own right here?"
Owen shot him a faux-offended glance. "How dare you!"
"You might fool the guys at work, O, but you couldn't pretend you don't think about it…"
Or that he hadn't been experimenting in that part of himself in little segments since he was seventeen. Turns out he suited long hair better, and he wouldn't hesitate to admit that he both looked and felt rather good with the occasional flourish.
"You know me well..."
"I should hope so! Anyway, what're you keeping from me? How was your day?"
"Office, just like you. I've had a conversation with a pioneer, and tried to erase marker pen over the body of a dead soldier. Oh, and I tried to teach myself statistical analysis."
"Jeez, that was— that was a whole rollercoaster there, huh?"
"Mhm, I've been busy."
"You can say that again, god… So, a pioneer? Like those guys that travelled to Oregon?"
"Yeah. Quite interesting people, if a little paranoid." Something other than their oxen might be watching them would've been a perfect addition to the statement, but Owen felt that was a little too close to the line to pass, so he decided not to add it.
The important part was, apart from the knowledge that Curt was on an assignment in a month's time, both of them were none the wiser. Curt didn't need to know that he had started the deep dive into a pack of eldritch gods and was even slightly nervous about the outcome.
He didn't sleep well that night. He knew that he had right to believe that this was all one great hoax, that there was something in the water that made the pioneers mass hallucinate this supposed watcher. They all travelled on the same trail, it was entirely plausible that all of them found the same hallucinogenic and envisioned a thousand eyes watching them and their familes. It was less of a coincidence when two subsidaries of larger companies started describing details of experiments that led them to discovering other beings beyond just the watcher, of course, but he still wasn't sure whether he was privy to believing any of it.
There was something about redacted government files, though, that were meant to be believed. There was a reason they hid information from the public, and that was often because they had found something worth disclosing in the first place. That meant huge news, large press cover ups… The whole works… And that was the last thing any self-respecting government with something to hide would want. Owen imagined the size of the initial press conferences for dealings like Roswell, how many people must've shown up to that conference, under the impression that they were going to get answers, only for the press to redact the next day and claim that it was no more than a weather balloon.
He felt like he was dealing with a weather balloon of his own right now. This was something that this branch of the military clearly didn't want people knowing. The only reason they'd had to disclose any information at all was because one of their own had died looking for this information, and they had to provide the closure for whatever family he had left. Part of him wondered what they'd said, how they'd tried to cover up this man's imminent demise at the hands of another dimension. What did his family know? Was he ever given a sendoff?
When Owen tried to sleep that night, plagued with the thoughts of how much his research was worth, and what really happened on the other side, he couldn't get his head in the right place to take a suitable rest for long enough. Flashes of colour— brighter than anything he'd ever seen— danced behind his eyelids, chasing each other in sequence. Blue. Purple. Yellow. Pink. Green. White. Blue…. He didn't have much of the capacity to think, not when those colours started consuming his subconscious thought, but he spared a moment to the hope that he may get answers of his own if he stuck around long enough.
"He thinks he's brave… He thinks we don't know about him…"
Whatever dream he had been having was taken over by blurred edges and violent pangs of pain that he was sure he could feel outside of this existence. Everything faded out, leving only ruin in it's wake. Broken pieces, scrambled signals… Owen didn't even try and make sense of it, he already understood the futility of trying. There was nothing left in his mind but those colours and those voices— for he was sure there was more than one. A sickening chorus, holding perfect time with each other.
"He's foolish, if he thinks he can go further without us finding out."
"Owennnn…"
"We know what you're doing, Owen…. It's not going to last."
He'd thought about meeting his maker before. He'd thought about the possibility of death, the idea that he may not live to see another day eventually. It was hard to deliberate something so serious in his early thirties, but his line of work called for it. He knew that he had a dangerous job, and that there were few who would be able to save him if something happened.
But, he'd never considered the possibility of his own demise to this extent before. In the formless remains of his dream, where he was forced into hearing these voices talk about his death and how soon it would be to coming, he had pause for deliberation. And it wasn't good.
He had to strain to take control of his own voice, in this space that was once his own. Once so sacred, now scarce and left entirely to the whim of whatever was taking residence in his mind. This was a bad idea. All of this research was a bad idea, and he was suddenly more aware of that than he was anything else. Never before had he had such a violent urge to overturn everything he'd worked on for the sake of something this seemingly trivial.
"There's nothing you can do. It's already started. This is bigger than me…"
"We know that. You're not the only one we have heard trying to work your way into what is ours… Choose your next step carefully, Owen. I'm sure we would delight in taking you in the same direction as the others…"
Before he could really ask what that meant, he was left entirely alone. The ruin of his dream still stood strong, which was strange enough given that the voices had left him alone, but he had the strangest feeling that there was more to this landscape than just what he was being shown. He started to wander, to look around in an attempt to find the real end to all of this. His mind was a wasteland, taken over by the lack of colour and the apparently deafening absence of those voices that had only appeared a moment before. He felt empty without them, although he knew nothing more than the sequence of colours that paraded through his vision.
Blue… Purple…. Yellow…
The pattern was familiar, like he'd seen it before somewhere. And while he wasn't resting easy, he couldn't force himself to wake up, either. No matter how hard he tried, he was just left stuck, wandering the expanse until he found what he was apparently looking for.
Pink…. Green…. White… Blue…
The expanses of his mind stretched out into a road, occupied by nothing but empty space. He supposed that was mostly his own fault; he had known for years that his imagination was never one to be put on par with anything else. He couldn't so vividly picture that which others could, and he'd never really had much of a capacity to dream, either.
So, this warning was strange. Seeing such vivid, bright colours in the back of his mind, knowing that he couldn't have conjured them himself…
He started to walk the road, curious enough to want to know where it went.
"Owen?"
That voice wasn't like the ones who had left moments before. That voice had a personality, and a person to go with. It was warm, though scared. Human all the same. And Owen knew the shape of it.
"Owen?"
Owen let his instinct lead him down the road, through it's many curves and winds. Eventually, the road gave way to what could only possibly be a stage. There was a set of stairs to one side, that he let himself climb before he could think to wonder where they led, and then the familiar voice gave way to a man in the wings, staring at him with desperate, fear-lined eyes. Of course he knew the voice, and of course he had never tried to doubt himself on the matter.
He tried to advance towards Curt, but he took a hasty step back, shaking his head.
"Curt?"
"Prove you're Owen."
"I'm sorry?"
Curt hesitated, and then slowly emerged from the wings. Even though he stood on the light of the stage, it still looked like he was carefully enveloped in shadow, like the darkness was a comfort to him. Owen looked around, wondering what had made him so cautious, and whether it was still around. Had Curt seen what he'd seen? What had those things whispered to him?
"I'm not falling for it again. Tell me you're actually Owen…"
Owen frowned, not wanting to dwell too much on why Curt was so afraid to reach out to him and realise that all of this was as real as they could get it. "Curt, love, I don't know what you want me to say…" There was a certain desperation about him too. Improvisation had never been his strong suit, but he wass confident that, given the right prompt, he would be able to convince his husband that he was who he said he was, to quell any discrepancy that it may have been otherwise.
"Don't. Show me… What happened on your 25th birthday."
The pieces fit into place, and Owen nodded dutifully. He had been out in the field that day, a strikingly hot day in the middle of June. The two of them had barely ended up with three hours together by the end of it, and they'd gone out drinking to celebrate what little time was left of his birthday. He'd never been particularly big on celebrating, but Curt had insisted. They were newly married then, and getting used to the idea of sharing a life with someone else. That was one of the first nights following their wedding when Owen truly came to realise that he'd made entirely the right decision, and that there was nobody he'd rather share his life with than Curt Mega.
"My 25th… That was a home ground mission. I was in the state."
"What happened to you?"
Owen smiled, somewhere between fondness and a need to hide the melancholic air that hung about that question. He pushed up the sleeve of his jacket, and huffed a weary breath of laughter. "I was trying to make my exit, but the suit jacket caught on a fence. Here…" With his sleeve rolled to just the right length, Owen held out his arm and pointed out a pale flash just below his elbow— a jagged scratch that had never quite healed right. "That's what happened after the fabric tore. Is that enough?"
Curt had known about the scar. He'd also known about the story. He was pretty sure that nobody else knew, though, so in his head, that had always been his fallback option in the event that he was ever sure Owen needed to prove himself. Those stories lined up perfectly, and while Owen had missed out on some of the details, in the grander scheme of things, he'd gotten it exactly right. He shifted, letting a knowing smile cross his face through the fear that still gripped him.
"It's really you…"
"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"
Curt's approach was still careful, premeditated. Even though he knew the truth now, there was still something about him that screamed a lack of trust directly into his ear, and it made actually reaching out for Owen so much harder. "You… You were trying to kill me."
"What now?"
"I know what I saw…"
"I don't doubt you, but I would never… I swear it on my life."
"I know, that's why it was strange… I— What the hell's happening?" This stage was the only thing connecting the two of them to reality. There was nothing beyond it but the end of the road that Owen had travelled down, and nothing behind it but black, empty space.
Owen let his instinct take over. If the two of them were going to face the unknown, whatever and wherever this was, then they were going to do it together. They always had, and they always would. That was the way things worked, especially for the two of them, because their lives were built so heavily on the idea of distrust that any semblance of the opposite they could get, they would cling to. Normally that was exclusively each other, and so the world wasn't usually much larger than the two of them.
Their hands connected in the middle of the emptiness. Owen pulled Curt Closer to him, and the two of them stood side, performers to an unknown audience, marionettes for something larger than themselves. They exchanged a glance, and Owen registered the warm, homely spark residing in Curt's eyes.
"I think we're trapped in a nightmare, crazy as it sounds," he tried to respond, but he wasn't entirely sure where this was going to go. "I can't wake up, but I remember falling asleep last night."
"Me too. I fell asleep before you did, you were still reading."
"Right, and now there's this. Whatever this is. did you, by chance, see those colours too?"
Curt nodded. "They came before you did, before the- other you. Blue, and purple, and yellow…"
"…Pink, and green, and white..?"
"And then blue again."
Owen heaved a sigh. "Curt, there's something I have to confess. It's safe to do so now, there's little that could get in the way of what I have to admit, but this is one of those things I wouldn't be able to tell you awake, you understand?"
There was a moment's pause, in which Curt tried to work around Owen's phrasing. Both of them felt the incredibly revealing sense that they were being watched, so Curt understood that Owen had gone into the professional mindset— switching off his senses for the sake of making as much sense of something as possible. It was always how he rationalised his way through situations, and it hadn't failed him yet.
Eventually, Curt nodded again, as the words started to sink in and he started to get a sense of what was being said. "This about what you told me this evening?"
"Yeah, I'm afraid there's a little more to it than what I told you, but I suppose that was rather obvious."
A nervous breath of laughter left Curt, only partially voluntary. "I thought there'd be a bit more to it than erasing marker pen over the body of a dead soldier…. What the hell kinda explanation was that, anyway?"
"One I spent a good hour crafting, thank you very much. I thought it was clever."
"Better than a pretty lady and a box of tricks?"
"And a bear, yes."
"… And the bear. Right. Well, what's that mean? erasing marker pen over the body of a dead soldier, what're you saying there?"
"I've…" This is not going to get you done for. Those documents were already top secret before you saw them. And if it gets you out of this nightmare prison, then surely it has to be worth it. "I've been uncovering sealed military case files that might explain what's happening to us right now."
Curt's eyes went wide. "Fucking what?!"
"It's all part of the job. I can't… I can't elaborate. Know only what everyone else knows: that the only reason any part of this is disclosed at all is because someone died during one of the experiments."
"What's that got to do with what's happening here?"
"That's what they were researching."
That seemed to click to some degree. At least, Curt seemed to understand a few of the larger pieces, perhaps the more obvious ones. "The colours?" In his head, there was an experiment, someone tried to make sense of whatever that was in their shared mindscape. Someone— a soldier, presumably, had died in the middle of these experiments, and now Owen had gotten tangled in this mess through his agency, and the two of them had been dropped into the same nightmare.
Owen nodded. "The colours."
At the moment he said that, a loud rumble disrupted their moment and forced their attention out into the expanse of nothing. Laughter— multiple sources with varying shrieks and gasps that couldn't be placed to a single source— burst from behind the wings, and from in front of them, and from the endless expanse of black that surrounded them. A loud crack followed, and Curt swore as the stage splintered beneath his feet. For a split second, his grip loosensed, and the next time the ground rumbled, they were torn apart by the growing crack in the stage. He staggered back, and the two of them ended on opposite sides of the stage, the crack between them growing and delving deeper into the unknown.
"Owen!" He called, trying to regain his footing but falling back.
"Curt! Hold on!" Owen yelled through the growing laughter, scrambling back to reach out for the pulley system backstage. He needed a foothold on something, a way to sturdy himself so he could regroup and think. It was too loud, he couldn't think in this kind of heat, with this kind of mess, and Curt, and-
Another crack. The stage was starting to fall away from itself, split not quite perfectly in two. Owen's breath ran short. In the swirls of colour and mayhem and possibilities, he saw a way out. One chance to get this right, and to make sure that they both survived the fall while they were still stuck here. He gripped the rope tight, levering himself further towards the crack, and looked to Curt. "You're gonna have to jump it!" He called, desperation winning over any attempts to stay sane. "Don't worry! You know I'll never let you down!"
"Are you crazy?!" Curt managed, staring into the gap. "I can't jump that, it's too far!"
"Curt, before the whole place splits in half, you have to get over here!"
"What if I don't make it?"
"Trust me! Please!"
Curt backed off a few paces. Owen stood ready, one hand gripping the rope wrapped around his wrist, and the other reaching out as far as he could, waiting for a move to be made. After a singular preparatory breath, he sprinted for the gap, and pushed off from the splintered wood at the edge.
He reached out.
Owen reached out.
Their fingertips connected briefly in the space, and then Curt slipped away beneath his grasp.
Owen threw himself forward, feeling the rope worming itself free and burning his wrist in the process. He'd promised. He wasn't going to let Curt fall. And he was nothing if not a man of his word.
Curt's eyes squeezed shut, preparing for an endless fall through the ineviatble. Something laced around his wrist and he felt himself stop moving. Exerting all the caution he knew to exert, he looked up, and caught a familiar whiskey brown staring back at him.
"I've got you!" Owen breathed, and Curt fought to angle himself so that he could get a better chance to grab the broken stage floor. When Owen started hauling backwards, Curt managed to get a hold of the edge of the stage, and made it a joint effort to haul him to his feet. "You're alright… You're okay…"
Curt essentially fell into Owen's arms. Owen held on tight, like he could lose his partner at any second to the swirls and the crevice. He stared out into the emptiness, ignoring the very real pain that he could feel at his wrist but cherishing the very reel feeling of Curt's shirt underneath his hands. The very air seemed to shift. Owen wasn't previously aware that colours could get angry, but this green that flooded the space behind his eyes was pissed. He could feel it.
So was he. Pissed, and way more desperate than a man ought to be.
"Alright," he muttered once, and Curt drew back ever so slightly. He noticed Owen was staring off into the greater expanse, and hoped for all it was worth that he couldn't see something out there.
"Alright!" His voice got louder, and he tried to mask his utter despair in an authorative tone. "I get it. You hear me? I get it!"
Everything fell eerily silent. The only sound that remained was the pounding of Owen's heart in his ears. He took a breath, strangely certain of himself. Glanced at Curt. Spared his attention on the void again.
"That soldier… Wilbur Cross? That was your fault, wasn't it? There's a good reason nobody can get very far into digs like these, and it's because you strive to kill them before they do. Nobody ought to know what's on the other side, and that's why nobody does…"
"Owen, what're you doing?" Curt whispered, but to no response and little avail. Owen was lost in whatever he was about to say.
"… But, I've heard talk of bargains being made here, so how about it?"
"Your desperation speaks for itself."
Owen had to pretend that that— the voice from the middle of nowhere or what it had said to him— didn't bother him in the slightest. He steeled himself, not sure where to direct his attention but knowing he'd probably have it right no matter what he chose. "What do you say, am I allowed to make a deal?"
The air shifted. Owen didn't receive a direct answer, but he knew that he'd been allowed to continue. "If I don't continue— if I go back, and tell my people that it's an impossibility, that it can't be done— would you let him go?" Another quick glance at Curt, as if the green something needed clarification, or as if he knew what he was signing himself up for.
Curt was frozen in place, his eyes wide. He'd heard every word as it echoed in the void, and he hated what it was implying. His gaze was fixed on Owen, fear blazing through his face. "No, Owen—" his voice came out weak. As far as literal interpretations go, that was not a good one. He didn't understand what was happening, but it terrified him to know that Owen was being so calm about this, while he could be selling his life away with nothing more than a few choice words.
Owen frowned, and muttered an apology he was sure only Curt would catch. The green grew angrier, setting a violent fire behind his eyes and forcing him onto his knees as the pain flooded his body.
"You better not be fucking with me."
"No! I— I wouldn't! I'm serious! I'll call it off, I swear on my life, just… He has nothing to do with any of this. It's not his fault."
The thing considered, holding Owen firmly in place while he deliberated. Curt couldn't move— he didn't dare, lest something happen to Owen that put him in more danger than he was already in. All he could do was force himself into keeping his breath steady, and not thinking about what a single wrong move could do to either of them. His eyes landed on the friction burn winding neatly around Owen's wrist, and he decided to focus on that for a while; the only other colour in a void of blackness and green.
"Very well."
That was the last thing Owen heard. Some part of his mind just shut down, and he collapsed to the floor of the stage. He didn't hear the way Curt screamed his name, or the return of the chorus of laughter. His eyes closed, and the next thing he knew, he was waking up with a start, underneath the sheets of his own bed, gasping for breath. He sturdied himself out, and once he was sure that he was real, and definitely in a familiar space, he looked over to Curt, and found him still asleep.
"Curt?" His voice was soft, but his mind was a knife point of tension. If that had gone wrong, then why was he the one to live through it ant not Curt? He tried again, biting his lip. "Curt..?"
Curt groaned. His eyes opened slowly. The relief that Owen felt hit him like a tidal wave.
For some reason, Curt was entirely surprised to see that Owen had made it through to the other side. He managed a weary smile, and tried to get his vision into focus. That was one of those decisions that he immediately came to regret. As soon as he brought himself a little more into the real worls, he noticed that the brown in Owen's eyes was stained with something else, and it made him feel sick to his stomach. Dripping down his irises was a flash of toxic, unsettlingly bright green.
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dangermousie · 2 days
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This drama is so good but it also makes me so angry!
The sequence where ZL figures out that some serious abuse is about to go on at Nan Ya's house (and it's telling he's the only one who notices, not because he's a super genius, but because the rest don't care at all, and it's just whatever - who cares what's going on in that house) and actually makes it in time to shield her but also has the wherewithal to tell his mother to call the cops beforehand?
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It doesn't go how you think it does - he does protect her (and this is probably the first time she didn't end up with major wounds but only minor ones!) but all it does is make me hate everyone in that town MORE!
Because her husband now starts beating him up because how dare anyone interfere with his doing what he wants with his property. He almost kills ZL because "how dare you get into our business"
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And the horror is that everyone in town we see, even ZL's own mother - ECHO WHAT HE SAYS. It's not just the fact that it's telling that the one time the monster got arrested it was for beating another man or that the cops themselves are standing up for the abuser and that cop is doing everything to keep the abuser from going to jail...
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It's the fact that EVERYONE, even ZL's mom, who is the closest to sanest we've seen in this town, are in complete agreement that the severe abuse is a matter between married couple and why should anyone intervene. THE HELL THE HELL THE HELL!!! I am not saying anyone is obligated to play the hero and cover her up with his body a la ZL but to at least agree that he's wrong and not join the husband's side of the argument is like the basic level of human decency, it's the bare minimum, beneath it likes the pit.
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The hell?! How is it her fault she is being abused?! And when the mom is all "you are fine but my son is unconscious in a bed" - does she realize that the only reason NY is "fine" and not unconscious or dead is because ZL stood up for her? I get she's distraught but this is horrible.
And if you can understand her lashing out as fear for her son, the conversation mom has with ZL shows no, she genuinely thinks it's nobody's business but the couple's that the man is abusing his wife to death.
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Astonishingly, the answer from his mom appears to be "yes."
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Because her pablum is just that - pablum. She insists NY would be fine because it's more comfortable to think she will be, that way you don't have to do anything.
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She is only fine because he shielded her and drew the man's wrath on himself!
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What the fuck! It makes me think of two Russian folk sayings: "if he beats you means he loves you" and "lovers physically fight it means they are just playing." They are both appalling and demonstrate an attitude these people seem to live by.
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He is not even some amazing paragon - he's a grey person through and through. But compared to the rest of the inhabitants of this hellhole, he might as well be from another planet due to possessing basic decency!
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hwajin · 2 years
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i have a tattoo appointment on monday and a ✨️consulation day✨️ for it tomorrow where the tattoo artist will see how the ✨️tattoo will flow with my body✨️ and take measurments AND IT WOULD BE ALL FUN AND GAMES IF IT WASN'T A MIDDLE BOOB TATTOO like do i have to be naked in front of this stranger of a man🧍🏼‍♀️
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I think Malenia's grab throw and impale you attack is cool but waterfowl still feels goofy to me idk
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creamecream · 2 years
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“Don’t you find it strange?
Only thing we share is one last name,
Did I beat you at your own game?
Typical of me to put us all to shame,
Welcome to the family jewels,
Coal to diamond,
Sold to fools,
Welcome to the family jewels,
Simmer and suffer,
Can’t keep this cool,
I can’t keep my cool,
I can’t keep my cool,
Family said that I decided to live a loveless life,
Is it my fault we stay divided ‘cause I got too much pride?
Pass the parcel, wrap, unwrap,
And open up the locks,
Out come flying all the secrets of Pandora’s box,
Oh? you think I’m unfit?
Little did you know that I was cut for it,
No glass slipper will ever fit, ‘cause I could never see a diamond in it,
Welcome to the family jewels,
Coal to diamond,
Sold to fools,
Welcome to the family jewels,
Simmer and suffer,
Can’t keep this cool,
I can’t keep my cool,
I can’t keep my cool,”
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vypcr · 2 years
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for someone who hates how they wrote s2 Tory I sure do latch on to a lot of little details from her first couple of episodes huh
#like I have so many complaints about s2 tory bc she was clearly written only as an obstacle and not as a full character#which worked at the time and she served her purpose but because she IS a full character now#it's really hollow and a disservice to her in hindsight#I try to make sense of it the best I can but for me the really important parts when it comes to what I take away for her characterization#are her introduction + her early interactions with aisha and sam#because up until the point where it became about her basically competing with sam over miguel#she was her own person. briefly. but then they decided to pit these girls against each other over a boy and suddenly#all of tory's character was solely about that#like think about it after she's introduced and that whole thing kicks off we only ever see her in the context of her rivalry with sam#even her entire relationship with miguel after they first got together is framed specifically through the lens of that rivalry#which is why that always came across as something more hollow and why it didn't work for me.#the whole reason for the school fight was bullshit so everything only makes sense to me if I look at it like#everything she did was because of her trying to find her footing in this new place and feeling pushed out by someone else#and her being made to feel inferior#she put pressure on her own relationship because of it and even though Miguel was still hung up on sam#she kept pushing it to be something that it wasn't ready to be because she couldn't 'let larusso win'#which is why she implodes so easily at the kiss because it just affirms to her everything she already thought#and the problem is not that she's pissed bc she thinks her boyfriend is cheating on her#it's that she feels insignificant and like she never mattered. like she was just there to pass the time.#it wasn't about the kiss really the kiss was just the tipping point. the fight was really about everything that had been going on beforehand#I'm rambling a lot in the tags damn and I think I've probably talked about this before but#I feel like maybe I should talk about s2 tory more even though I ignore a lot of shit bc it's redundant or pointless to her character lol
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artemis-zinc · 1 year
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it's offputting to me how people seem to associate valentine's day so strongly with romantic love over other types. when i was a kid it was always just about love in general. and like sure i did hope to get valentines from my crushes at school but i would attribute that mostly to me being romantically-minded, and really the only valentines i remember GIVING to people were to friends and family.
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nanaslutt · 5 months
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Perv Geto on others minds...mine is on giving Nanami head for the first time
giving virgin!Nanami head <3
contains: fem reader, established relationship, inexperienced Nanami, dry humping, oral (m!r), fantasizing, dirty talk, praise, cum eating, he cums on ur face :3
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
The sound of lips smacking and quiet hums could be heard throughout the room as you sat on your boyfriend's lap, sucking on his tongue. The two of you were currently in Nanami's living room, the two of you just having finished the lovely dinner he made. You had taken the commercial break between the show you were watching to sling your leg over his thighs and sit on him, starting a passionate makeout session.
You and Nanami have been together for a couple months now, the two of you shared plenty of makeout sessions and mutual masturbation scenes, but never anything more than that. The tired man did work a lot, and the two of you loved to be out of the house when you had the free time, so that didn't leave a whole lot of time for stuff like this. Today though, today would be the day where you went further.
You hadn't quite expressed that to Nanami however, but you didn't foresee any reason he would decline. The way he spoke to you and touched you when things got intimate made you think he had some prior experience under his belt, why would he not? He was a handsome, respectful man in his mid-twenties, and he fingered you like a pornstar, so he must know what he was doing.. right?
The day had started with him picking you up bright and early for coffee, then taking you to some bookstore, the aquarium, the park, lunch, AND he had taken you back to his house for a homemade dinner! To top it all off he didn't even let you bring your wallet on this whole excursion, insisting he was going to take care of you today, only adding to your suspicions that tonight would be the night you would roll around with him in his sheets.
You raked your nails through his hair, receiving a pleased hum from the man under you against your lips. His hands were placed on your hips, gripping onto the skin there when you started to test the waters, slowly grinding on his hardening cock underneath his pants. A muffled moan could be heard from him when you picked up your ministrations after he didn't protest your movements.
Nanami ran his hands up and down the sides of your body, feeling your perfect figure under his fingertips while he relished in the feeling of your tongue tangling with his and your warm clothed cunt grinding on top of him. The two of you had dry-humped before, so there was no reason for Nanami to panic, this was all familiar. What wasn't familiar, is when you pulled away and brought your lips to his neck, peppering kisses to his skin, and down his clothed pecs.
He couldn't speak as you continued your kisses, sliding off of his lap as you leaned forward to kiss his abs and pelvis-- knees finally hitting the carpeted floor as you placed your hands on his large thighs, kissing his legs as you looked up at his seductively through your lashes. "W-what are you doing?" He asked, uncharacteristically nervous. "Wanna suck your cock Kento~" You cooed, rubbing your cheek into his thigh.
His face flushed, "Wait, wait just one moment-" He said, placing his large, shaky hands on top of yours, pausing your movements. "Kento? You okay?" You asked, raising your head off of his thigh. Had you ruined the mood? Did you take things too far? You knew you should've talked to him about this beforehand, it would've saved you the humiliation you were about to face when he would ultimately reject you. "I'm alright I just.. I've" Nanami looked like he was struggling to say something, his gaze averted from yours as he looked around the room like the walls would tell him the words to say.
You were too preoccupied with imagining what you thought your boyfriend was going to say, that you almost missed what he actually said. You froze, every atom of your being standing still as you kept your eyes on his, waiting for him to look at you again. "Say that again?" You asked incredulously. Nanami sighed, sliding a hand over his face in embarrassment, "Please don't make me." He said, finally looking down at you. "You've never had your cock sucked." You repeated for him, staring at him like he just told you aliens were real, and had the proof.
"I didn't mean I wanted you to say it for me." He huffed, swallowing whatever saliva still resided in his very dry mouth. "Sorry, it's just.. you've never got your cock sucked...." You said again, looking around the room in astonishment. Nanami spoke your name, deadpanning at you. You giggled, rubbing his thighs and simultaneously jolting his larger ones under your ministrations. "Do you wanna get 'ur cock sucked?" You asked, rubbing your cheek agaisnt his knee like a cat once more.
"I.. I don't want you to hurt yourself." Nanami replied, running a large hand through your hair. "I can take it Kento, let me take your cock." You whispered, his hand tightening in your hair at your words. You watched him nod before you dragged your hands to his knees and spread them apart, making room for yourself as your frame between him kept the appendages apart. You started peppering kisses over his covered legs, inching closer and closer to his cock.
When he felt the faint pressure of your lips kissing his cock through his pants, he swears his brain almost short-circuited. Yes, the two of you had touched before, but this was different. The known expectation that you were going to suck his cock made him all the more sensitive. Nanami groaned above you when your hand started massaging his now fully hard cock over his pants. "That feel good?" You asked, tilting your head at the man.
He nodded, giving you a small smile, continuing to rake his hands through your hair, "I love everything you do for me." He said honestly, making you giggle. "Yeah?" You said, starting to make quick work of undoing his belt and zipper, maintaining eye contact with him throughout it. "Think you'll really love this then." You smirked, throwing his belt off to the side of the room as you made an effort to pull his pants off. Nanami raised his ass for you so you could slide them down his thighs, just enough to where you would be able to pull out his cock. Something about Nanami in formal wear got you all hot and bothered, so you made the executive decision to leave him clothed.
Nanami watched with bated breath as you groped his cock over his boxers, his heavy dick twitching against your hand as you stroked him. There was a prominent wet spot that had already formed at the tip of his dick, wetting through his boxers, so much so that it looked like he already cum. "Why are you so wet Kento~?" You teased, taking your pointer finger of the other hand you rubbed the digit in small circles along the tip of his cock, making his abs clench under the stimulation.
He closed his eyes, relishing the feeling, "Don't use my words against me." He said, referring to how he always teased you for being a dripping mess when he fingered you. "But look Ken.." You waited till his eyes opened again before you tapped your finger against the covered head of his leaky tip, a small 'plp' sound reaching his ears with just how wet he really was, "It's applicable right now.. right?" You said, referring to the teasing words you stole from him.
"Would you rather I not be this.. excited?" Nanami asked, choosing his words carefully. "Are you kidding?" You smirked, pulling the band of his boxers down to reveal a long and girthy cock that sprung out from underneath and slapped his clothed tummy, "I love how excited you get." He inhaled a shaky breath when you wrapped your hand around him, jerking him off slowly as you spread his pre-cum over the length of his cock.
"Kento~ Why have you never done this before? You're so good with your hands I never would've expected this from you." You spoke, focusing on his sensitive tip for a couple seconds, rendering him unable to breathe, before you jerked the entirety of his length in your smaller hand once more. "I read a lot of.. erotica novels s-so I pick up on some things.." Nanami said, his eyes fluttering from your hand making quick work of his flushed dick. That revelation made your thighs press together, you knew he read a lot but you didn't realize he was reading poetic porn, essentially. He even read those books in front of you sometimes.
"As for why I've never r-received oral.." He stuttered, making you hum at him, encouraging him along. "You're the first person I've been with like this.." He revealed, making his face flush at the embarrassing truth. "Does that mean you've never.." You asked, slowing the rubbing along his cock so he could speak. "I've never had sex, yes." You had to take a second to process his words, your eyes going wide as you stopped your jerking and instead squeezed the base of his cock in your hand while you took in all this new information.
"Does that turn you off?" Nanami questioned, sliding his hand down to your cheek to rub his thumb against it, bringing your attention to his face. "Would you judge me if I said it was the opposite?" you said, keeping your voice too stoic for Nanami, making him huff out a laugh, his hand sliding down to pull back your bottom lip, revealing the bottom row of your teeth before he let the pump skin fall back into place. "No." He replied, "I'm glad you don't mind."
Your heart was racing in your chest. Something about Nanami being a virgin, a man who had never been touched by a woman sexually in general, aroused you probably more than it should've. Your face was flushed a deep crimson, pulling your lip between your teeth you looked down at his dripping cock, starting up your strokes again. "I'm gonna make you feel so good Kento," you promised, keeping your eyes on his while you stuck out your tongue, leaning your head down to meet his cock.
He inhaled sharply when he felt the warm appendage come into contact with the tip of his cock. You swirled your tongue around his tip, tasting the salty liquid on your tongue before you wrapped your lips around the head and suckled it off, swallowing the slightly bitter liquid down your throat. "Fuck.." Nanami whispered softly, his hand in your hair gripping the strands tightly but not putting any pressure on you.
You had one hand still gripped around his length, jerking what couldn't yet fit in your mouth as you continued to tease his cockhead. You slid your free hand to his side to grab his hand that was digging his nails into the couch. He furrowed his eyebrows when he felt you, quickly interlacing his fingers with yours as you held him for support. You rubbed your tongue along the prominent vein that ran up the underside of his cock as you took more of him in your mouth. You only got about a quarter of the way down when his fat tip reached your throat, making you gag around him, your eyes squeezing shut and body jolting at the action.
Nanami gasped, "F-fuck, you okay sweetheart?" He checked, trying to ignore how good that felt so he could make sure you were alright first before he lost himself in the pleasure. You nodded the best you could, your humming around him sending delicious vibrations to his balls. "Good, you're doing so well." Nanami praised. You should be the one comforting him, but it didn't feel all that bad to hear so you welcomed it anyways.
You took him deeper into your throat, pushing past the uncomfortability that came with having something as big as his cock logged in your throat. His heavy breathing and quiet groans and moans of your name spurred you on, urging you to take him in deeper. "Fuck- your throat-" Nanami groaned, his head tipping back agaisnt the back of the cushion as he took in how warm and wet you felt around him.
Nanami had severely underestimated how good getting his dick sucked would feel. He had seen how men reacted to it in pornos, but he knew most of that was acting anyways, how could something like a mouth make a man feel that week in the knees? He was eating his words now. He could feel everything, your tight throat constricting around his cock, the plushness and warmth the inside of your mouth brought to him--he was in heaven.
Nanami never wanted this to end and yet, he felt like he was on the verge of cumming already. He wasn't that naive, he knew the first time he had sex he probably wouldn't last very long, the only method he had been using to get off for the last twenty-some years of his life being his fist. Albeit jerking off felt amazing, but he figured it would feel vastly different inside of a vagina, and gauging from how off he was bout how good a mouth could feel? He couldn't imagine himself lasting longer than a couple seconds inside you.
You had started to bob your head rhythmically on his length, moaning and whining around it, occasionally a gag or cough would be forced out around him when you took his cock too deep, making him groan with you at the delicious feeling. He squeezed your hand in his larger one, feeling his balls tighten in that telltale feeling of his orgasm creeping up on him. "Honey, I- I'm not going to last much longer," Nanami confessed, his breathing picking up telling you all you needed to know.
You pulled your lips off his cock, jerking his length quickly in your hands as you asked him, "Where do you wanna cum, Kento?" He could hardly think right now, how was he expected to decide in such little time? He truly was about to burst, he needed to make up his mind, and fast. Images flashed in his mind of his cock fully sheathed in your throat while you took his cum flooded his mind, other scenarios like cumming on your tits--this probably wouldn't work right now, you were still clothed after all--one particular image stood out in his brain from the rest though; your face, covered in his cum.
He audibly groaned when the vivid picture became clearer--that's what he needed, that was what he needed to see. "C-can I cum on your face, sweetheart?" He asked sweetly. You could tell he was holding himself back, his breath stuttering and his words coming out rushed. "You wan' cover my face in your cum?" You teased, smirking before you poked your tongue out to dip into the entrance of his cock, making him whine through his teeth. He gasped when you took the entirety of his length back into your warm mouth, timing your stroking with the bobbing of your head perfectly.
"Yes- yes, fuck- wanna see how pretty you look covered in my c-cum." He grit through his teeth. The vibrations from your own moaning around him was spurring him on, his balls tightening while they prepared the release of his cum. "Fuck sweetheart, i-its coming," Nanami warned, pulling his lip between his teeth as he watched you intently with his pretty eyes, clouded with lust, looking down on you. You bobbed your head for a couple seconds more, moaning out 'mhm-mhm' around him as you worked him up to the brink.
You pulled out just in time, jerking his cock rapidly in your hand his breathing came to a standstill before his orgasm crashed over him, the first rope of cum shooting out and landing on your stuck-out tongue. His groans were so deep, his deep voice moaning out your name needily as he watched his cock paint your face aroused you beyond belief. You gave him a cockdrunk smile, giggling as you stroked his cock over your face, relishing in the feeling of his warm spurts of cum coating your face.
His orgasm seemed to go on forever, not that either of you minded. You continued to work him through it with your hand, greedily swallowing up every last drop of the bitter seed he gave you. His hand that was previously interlaced with yours had abandoned your hold, his large hand coming down to grab your wrist and stop your incessant jerking to avoid overstimulation when he came down from his high, chest heaving. You collected his cum from the side of your lip with your thumb, sucking it off of the digit before you spoke.
"How did that feel?" You asked, smiling when his eyes focused on you. He leaned forward on his knees, softening cock hanging between the two of you as he grabbed your cheeks in his large hands, staring into your eyes like you hung the stars in the sky, before leaning down and leaving a kiss on your soft forehead. He smiled, admiring your cum covered face before he spoke, "Think I'm addicted."
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hopesworlld · 2 months
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౨ৎ he made my doll heart, light up with joy
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౨ৎ 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 — step!bro anakin x fem!reader
౨ৎ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 — your stepbrother anakin found your diary and now he wants to make all your dirty fantasies come true
౨ৎ 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 — 4k
౨ৎ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — swearing, stepcest, mentions of weed and alcohol, mean!anakin, face slapping in a sexual context but not discussed beforehand, smut ( mentioned masturbation f and m, hickeys, unprotected sex, p in v, choking, hair pulling, praise, a little degradation, use of the term slut/little slut, titty fucking, squirting, oral sex m receiving ) i think that's everything !
౨ৎ 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘀 ! — feeding the girlies 🫶🏻
part one part three masterlist
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it had been a couple of days since anakin had found your diary and your mind had been stuck on him since then, each time you saw him your mind was filled with images of that night, the look on his face as he guided his cock into your mouth, the way he felt filling you up, spilling his cum onto your face and chest. you longed for him again, and he knew that and he fucking loved it. he would walk around the house shirtless, shorts hanging off of his hips with no boxers beneath leaving his cock print visible beneath. it took everything within you not to grab him there and then and tug his shorts down and choke on his cock.
you knew he was playing the long game, seeing how long he could make you wait before you came to him begging, tears staining your cheeks and core aching. so you waited, watching, longing but you had done this before, had been holding those dirty little fantasies inside of you for so long so this, you could hold on. sitting in your bedroom hands shoved down your panties toying with your clit until you came picturing anakin sitting in his bedroom, pumping his flushed cock wishing you would give in. so you decided you were going to play anakin at his own game, wearing short skirts and tight fitting tops, forgoing bras and underwear and purposefully bending over when you knew he was behind you giving him the perfect view of your cunt beneath the frilly fabric, grinning when you heard him hiss quietly beneath his breath.
it became a new sick obsession for you both, anakin brushing past you, hands trailing along your spine, grasping at your hips, playing with your skirt's waistband. while you would creep behind him and run your hands down his chest, or slip past him pressing your ass against his crotch. it lasted for a week before everything collapsed.
you were laying in your bedroom, both your father and shmi out on a date night, and anakin was out with friends so you had the house to yourself, though it was about as fun as to be expected, so you decided to write in your diary detailing the games you and anakin had been playing that day.
/ i really thought he was going to give in today, i wore the tiniest skirt i have, it’s hardly even a skirt, so short i haven't worn it since i bought it but god it’s hard, anakin promised this isn't over but i didn't realise i was going to have to beg for it and i don’t want too. he knows i want him, i creamed all over his fucking cock and still, he’s making me wait. i just want him to give in, grab me and fuck me senseless again, i haven’t been able to cum properly since last week, no matter how much i want to it’s like my body needs him, i fucking hate it. god, why won’t he just do something?
“writing more fantasies there, angel?” anakin’s voice cut through the peaceful silence of your bedroom, you titled your head to face him, taking in the skin-tight black jeans that clung to his legs and band t-shirt, the heavy black liner around his eyes, he looked utterly sinful.
“nothing to say,” you replied shortly, turning your face back to the diary, gaze scanning the page, you could feel him still staring at you but decided to remain silent, if he wanted to play this game you would play it.
“oh, baby’s got bite, huh,” anakin snickered, crossing the room and perching himself at the end of the bed, “feeling a bit worked up?” he asked and you scoffed, raising your eyes, watching the way his gaze trailed over your body suddenly aware that you were wearing only a white vest top and a pair of pink cotton panties, you hadn’t expected him home tonight. usually, he and his friends would be out for hours on end not returning until the sun rose, but it was hardly half past eight.
“you wish,” you said with a small smile rolling your eyes at him, watching as his eyes darkened.
“wanna play like that, baby? okay, why don’t you hand me that book and show me what you are writing,” he offered, hand held out expectantly and a shudder ran down your spine as you met his gaze, he was testing you, tempting you to give in.
“why? you gave me what i wanted. you want me fucking say it,” you bit out, but your facade was fading but anakin… anakin broke.
“think now you’ve had my cock you can talk to me like i’m a fucking idiot?” he seethed, reaching over and ripping the diary from your grip and dropping it on the bed before straddling your hips, using one hand to pin your hands above your head in a bruising grip, “acted like a fucking slut all week, flashing me that desperate pussy, practically begging for it and now you wanna act blase?” he was angry, enraged as he glared down at you and you had never felt so small.
“anakin i…” you began to say but he shook his head.
“shut up,” he sneered, “sluts don’t get to talk, they shut their mouths and listen,” and you knew you shouldn’t, your brain was screaming at you to not give in, but that other part of you, your needy cunt needed this, needed him so you nodded. “look at you, all brave until you think you are gonna get cock, embarrassing,”
“i’m sorry,” you spewed out, and before you could even process it his hand was coming up, slapping you harshly around the face leaving behind a burning sting, you gaped up at him, shocked at his action and he smirked.
“i told you to be quiet but you can’t fucking listen can you, so you know what i’m gonna do?” he asked you and all you could do was stare at him, “nothing,” he replied simply letting go of your hands and climbing down from atop of you off of the bed, “you want me you know where to find me,” he said, sending you a teasing wave leaving you alone with a stinging cheek and throbbing cunt. you couldn’t even bring yourself to get off that night, simply curling on your side and hoping, but anakin never came.
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the following day you were unsure of what to do next, cheek-stained rosy and cunt still aching, what you weren’t expecting was to see anakin the second you entered the kitchen, his eyes widening when he saw your face.
“shit,” he gasped walking over to you and cradling your cheek, you blinked up at him stunned, “i didn’t realise i… angel, fuck” he looked horrified, “i was so fucked when i got home last night and i, god,” anakin didn’t know what to say, pretty blue eyes so heart-achingly pained.
“it’s okay,” you said softly but he shook his head frantically.
“it’s not okay, i didn’t ask i just did it, fuck, i was so cross faded, baby, you don’t have to forgive me,” anakin had never been so nice to you ever, maybe after he had fucked you within an inch of your life, but this anakin was so impossibly soft you felt something with you shift, lust melting into something more malleable, something warm and light and it terrified you.
“ani, it’s okay,” you repeated, leaning up and planting a kiss on his lips, it was confident but you had to try, and anakin wilted, arm slipping around your waist and pulling you in, your bodies pressed so close they were practically one. the kiss was soft, a sweet caress of lips on lips before anakin pulled back and planted a soft kiss on your cheek. “wanna know a secret?” you asked him and anakin looked into your eyes, only sincerity glowing in them.
“always, angel,” he whispered and a small smirk twisted itself on your lips.
“i liked it,” you say watching as anakin’s eyes widen before a grin stretches across his face, his hand still resting on your hips pinching down slightly and making you jump.
“cheeky slut,” he teased, leaning in and peppering kisses along the length of your neck making you shiver in delight, “i need you, angel,” he murmured against your neck, “you’ve taken over my entire brain, can’t think of anything but you,”
“take me,” you whispered, “you’ve haunted my thoughts for long enough, ani,” it was a mess of teeth and tongue as anakin pulled you in again, lifting you into his arms, you wrapped your legs around his waist letting him carry you from the kitchen up the stairs, only breaking the kiss to look where he was going every few seconds before suddenly you were being laid back onto your bed, anakin hovering atop of you.
“i’m not gonna be gentle this time,” anakin told you, hands resting on your hips, “i need to make you mine, ruin you for any other man that tries with you, you are fucking mine,” he groaned out, grinding his hips against yours, the delicious thrill of his half hard cock settled between your thighs enough to drive you wild.
“you’ve already ruined me,” you confess like a sinner would on their knees before the priest.
“fuck,” anakin hissed, he grasped the skin of your thighs hiking them up so that they sat around his waist, “want everything from you, don’t hold back,” he demanded, and you knew that you were gone, this sick story was coming to a close and a new book was already in the making as he reached between your bodied and cupped your aching sex.
“yes, yes,” you pleaded, grinding your hips against his hand, you needed to feel him, to have him explore every inch of you and make you his.
“let’s get you out of these clothes, pretty,” he cooed, hands slipping under your top and tugging it off revealing your perky tits beneath, nipples hardening against the cool air, he groaned, cupping them in his large hands and squeezing, “such gorgeous tits, will you let me fuck them a little, baby?” he asked you and you whined.
“fuck yes, want you to come all over them, ani please,” you said, hands falling to the waistband of your shorts, it was an awkward shuffle of bodied as you managed to push them down and kick them from your legs while anakin grinned, still looking at your tits in awe.
“wanna mark them up, let everyone know whose tits they are,” he said, not waiting for confirmation before sinking down and suckling the tops of your breasts, a jolt of pain shot through your body making you shiver in delight. he sucked until the marks were bright red and lay stark against your skin, running his tongue over them soothingly before moving to the next until your breasts were covered. “holy shit,” he gaped.
“s’ pretty,” you murmered looking at the marks he had created.
“so pretty,” anakin agreed, “the fucking prettiest, along with this cunt, been dreaming about having this again,” he told you, tracing his fingers through your aching folds, “always so wet for me, angel,”
“take your clothes off,” you huffed, hips jittering, “wanna see you,” you pleaded, hands clumsily coming up to his belt and tugging at the cuff trying to unloop the fabric.
“desperate girl,” he smirked but obliged, tearing his shirt over his head in a swooping motion before following suit with his jeans, tugging the belt free as you watched in fascination as his jeans and boxers finally came down and his cock sprang free from its confines, hard, flushed and aching.
“anakin,” you hummed in delight at the sight, desperate for him.
“never meet a girl so needy for cock, look like you’ve just won the lottery,” anakin snickered, dragging his cock through your folds, soaking the tip before slapping it against your clit, you hissed at the contact lifing your hips to meet his but anakin pressed his hand your your stomach holding you down. “not yet,” he told you, “get the diary, i promised you a fantasy,” he smirked.
“anakin,” you huffed, pouting, “you know what i want, you don’t need that,” you said but he shook his head.
“wanna read your dirty words first, angel, come on,” he prompted planting a soft slap to your ass cheek making you squeal, scrambling up the bed and grabbing the little diary from its place beneath your pillow and handing it to him. he flicked the pages open, scanning through some older entries along with some older ones, his smile widening as he read your desperate words. “god, you are fucking filithy,”
“stop it,” you cried ripping the book from his hand and reading the page.
/ anakin stood behind me in the kitchen today and i purposefully bent over so that my skirt would come up, i wasn't wearing any underwear so he saw everything, i’m pretty sure i heard him moan. it made me so wet i wonder if he noticed, i wanted him to grab me and ram his cock inside me. i’ve seen porn where girls get fucked from behind, pinned against a counter or on their hands and knees, hair threaded through their partner's hands, tugging them back. or sometimes the guy had his hands wrapped around their throat. i bet anakin is good at choking, his hands are so big, he could probably fit his hand around my neck easily and choke me out, i tried it myself, squeezed hard enough that it made my head spin, i think even without my vibrator i would have cum so fucking hard from that. i hope he gives in soon.
“wanna feel my hands around your throat, angel?” anakin asked you, “want me to pound you from behind, take you like a slut? should have known you would love that,” you moaned at his words, slamming the book shut and tossing it from the bed.
“yes, ani, you know what i want so please, please do something,” you begged, crawling over to him and straddling his hips, wet cunt dragging against his hard cock, he groaned, grasping your hips tightly and rocking against you, his cock head catching at the rim of your swollen hole.
“gotta let you ride me one day, baby,” he murmured into your ear, “but right now i want you on your hands and knees, ass up,” he prompted and who were you to ignore instructions? you quickly moved into place, trying to remember who the girls do it in porn, the position was a little uncomfortable, knees not used to holding your weight like this, anakin ran his hand along your back soothingly, unlocking the tensed muscles that rippled beneath his touch revealing a subtle arch as you dipped down against the bed, breasts brushing against the cotton sheets. “look at that,” anakin said, “fucking perfect,” not seeing him made your skin prickle, every touch seemed to set your nerves on fire, especially when he drew his hands to your rounded ass, grasping at the flesh with keen fingers.
“ani, stop teasing,” you complained earning a sharp slap on your ass, the pressure making you jolt.
“needy little slut,” anakin spat, “just trying to appreciate the view but you are so focused on getting something inside that desperate cunt, want it so bad then fucking take it,” and he was inside you, despite his harsh words anakin was gentle with you, only pushing the tip into your dripping hole and holding it there for a few seconds before pushing deeper, your walls greedily sucking him in, his cock a weclome introusion after weeks of needy fingers helplessly pressing at your gummy walls, clumsily chasing a phantom release.
“yes, yes, yes,” you chanted, head dropping down against the bed as anakin began to thrust, the burn was expected, you hadn’t had him in weeks and with no prep you were bound to be a little sore, but you wanted this, wanted it to hurt, wanted to remember the feeling of him inside of you for days to come. his thrusts were shallow at first, hardly sinking all the way in before pulling out again, he continued this for a few moments, hands grasping at your hips before you began to whine, “ani, it’s okay, i need you harder, deeper, wanna feel your cock in my fucking stomach,” you simpered, dirty words pouring from petal lips, but it worked, you felt anakin’s dick twitch inside of you.
“such a dirty mouth, angel,” he groaned, hand threading through your hair and yanking, the action jerking you backward so that anakin was fully sheathed inside of you and you fucking loved it, moaning loudly at the feeling of being so full, the pressure of his cock head against your cervix and the burn of your scalp would have been enough to make you cum, but then he began to jackhammer inside of you, hips thrusting at a brutal pace, filling every inch of you.
“oh my god,” you screeched, tears glossing your eyes, as you let anakin abuse your sopping cunt. tip pressing against the spongey spot inside of you that made your head spin.
“that’s it, baby, scream for me,” anakin hissed, hands bruising on your hips, as he sank deeper, and deeper, you swore you could feel him in your guts, this angle allowing him to go deeper than he had before, he was everywhere, you vaguely wondered what it would feel like if he spilled inside of you, cum coating your insides, it was disgusting, so, so wrong but you knew you would have to ask him for it one day, maybe leave it in your diary and hope he finds it, but you had little time to ponder as anakin’s hand untangled from your hair and began to creep its away around your throat, just holding it, waiting.
“ani,” you pleaded, his fingertips dancing along your pulse point, palm warm even against your fiery skin.
“you want it?” he asked, squeezing ever so slightly so that you could feel the pressure but not enough to cut off air flow.
“yes, want it so bad, anakin please,” he laughed, a dark mocking thing that made your pussy cleanch.
“come on, angel you can beg better than that,” anakin litled, you couldn’t see him but you knew he was smiling, amused by the pathetic girl wrapped around his cock, so desperate for him no matter what he could say or do, you would still trail after him cock hungry and begging.
“choke me, ani, please, want your hands around my throat, want you to fuck me like a slut, please, please, need it so bad, please, ani,” you didn’t had to wait to see if you begged well enough before anakin’s hand tightened, pressing in all the right places to cut off your wind pipe, a dull aching feeling lingering as the blood rushed from your head, it was hypnotic, something welling inside of you, loving the control he held over your entire body. you were his, whether he wanted it or not. the slick sound of your cunt taking his cock filled the room not that your moans were cut off, it made you shudder.
“baby, baby,” anakin panted, hips stuttering inside of you, “fuck, you are a dream, angel,” he said, voice shaky, “gonna need you to cum soon, you feel so fucking good wrapped around me, don’t think i can hold it much longer and i still need to feel those tits around me,”
“fuck,” you cried at the sound of his shakey voice, words garbled by anakin’s hand around your thoat, he loosened it for a moment allowing you to gulp in a large breath of air before it tightened once again, thumb pressing against your pule point, you whimpered, tears spilling down your cheeks as you let anakin rock against you.
“play with your clit for me, angel,” anakin told you, pace not slowing but you could feel his dick twitching, you did as he said, one hand sliding to the sticky mess between your thighs, you were tempted to feel at the place between the two of you, the connection of his cock deep inside of you but you worried that would set anakin off, so you began to circle your clit, the loss of one arm to balance with make you shaky, body jerking forward violently so anakin grabbed your other arm, wrenching it behind your back and holding it there, other hand still on your throat, his body supporting your entire weight. it was fucking heavenly, you were completely at his disposal, he could do anything he wanted to you and you would let him.
“mmh,” you stuttered out, voice lost beneath anakin’s vice grip, that coil in your stomach welling, you could feel it expanding, coiling down your spine and encasing your entire lower body. you needed it, that lust you had felt for weeks reaching closer to a crescendo, you wanted him to ruin you, to tear you in two a bury himself beneath your skin so you could feel him forever. your heart pounded against your chest, body aching with want.
“that’s it,” anakin cooed, “you can let go, come all over my cock, angel girl,” he whispered, squeezing your throat tighter, white spots danced in your vision, the feeling of his cock head bullying your cervix, the dizzying lack of air in your head and the way he held you, it was enough to send you spinning. everything went dark, you felt entirely weightless, the glow of your orgasm consuming your entire body and you were gone.
when you came too, anakin was hovering over you, your body now laid flat and he looked adoringly down on you, bottom lip pinched between his teeth.
“oh, baby,” he sounded awe struck, you blinked up at him, hazy from the force of the orgasm that had consumed you, “you squirted, angel,” he told you and you looked down, his entire cock and stomach was sodden as well as the sheets beneath you two, you gaped, stunned.
“i did that?” you whispered and anakin swopped in, peppering kisses along the curve of your lips.
“yes, yes you did, so fucking hot, never seen a girl squirt in person before, it was fucking insane,” anakin said, almost giddy, “such a good girl, angel, something out of a dream i swear to god,” he continued too kiss you, along your lips, trailing across your cheeks and you squirmed, hands shakily coming to his shoulders.
“ani,” you say, breathlessly, still taken aback by what you had done, like anakin you had only seen squirting in porn, you couldn’t even imagine that you yourself could do it.
“yes, baby, anything,” he sounded frantic, hips rutting against the wetness between your thighs, still chasing his relief as he praised you.
“my tits,” you gasped out through over sensitivity as he cock brushed your swollen clit, “fuck my tits, ani, please,” he pulled back, a dreamy smile painted on his lips as he shuffled up the bed, hips stradling your stomach.
“you really want this?” he asked gently, and you nodded, you needed this, needed him to come, you watched in bliss as he reached behind him, coating his palm in your wetness and smearing it between your tits until the skin glistened before guiding his cock along the silken channel, “push them together for me, angel, make it nice and tight like your pussy for me,” he instucted, your hands dragged up your sides and too your swollen breasts, pressing them together, your thumbs trailing along the marks anakin had left before.
“yes, just like that,” anakin whispered, rutting his hips, cock sliding between your tits with a squealch. his cock head bumped against your chin and impulsibely you dipped your head, capturing the weeping thing between your lips and suckling, it was a mess of spit, slick and cum and anakin moaned, louder than you had ever heard him moan before. you glanced at him through your lashes and almost lost it, anakin looked wrecked, lips parted and stained crimson, hair ruffled atop his head in messy waves, eyes wide as he looked down at you, and when you made eye contact he cried out, hips stuttering as he came in your mouth. you tried to swallow as much as you could, but some escaped and dripped onto your tits in a milky stream.
“angel,” anakin’s breathing raged as he pulled his spent cock from your mouth and you smiled up at him, body still weak but all you could feel was light, it burned bright within you and extended out like sunlight leaking through the clouds at dawn. “you… i… i have never come so hard in my life than i have with you,” he laughed breathlessly, you echoed the sound as he sank onto you, head pressed against your soiled chest but he didn’t care and neither did you. it was your mess that you had made together, and you loved that thought more than you should.
“same,” you managed to say, exhaustion consuming you as you curl your arms around anakin, relishing in the feeling of his warmth.
“i have no choice now,” anakin said, “you are my fucking girl, i don’t care about what our parents say, this is it for me, i need you,”
“anakin,” you gasped, taken aback by his confession, what was he saying? what did this mean now? how could you ever tell your parents how this sick obsession had bloomed into something more, it was wrong, twisted, and despicable, but you couldn’t ignore what you felt and you knew it was him, he was it for you.
“don’t worry, angel, i’ll work it out,” he murmured against your chest and you nodded, anakin knew what he was doing, or you could only hope he did as he finally came around again and scooped you into his arms to take you to clean up in the bathroom.
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maybe another part…
tags : @prettypinkprincess15 @insomiacslut @johnbassplayercutie @espinathena-17 @srry-notsorry @vmpIover @dazednstars141
tagged people who asked for a part two !
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hannieehaee · 24 days
Text
18+ / mdi
Tumblr media Tumblr media
content: loser!chan, afab reader, smut, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 1420
a/n: my favorite chan is back<33
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4
masterlist
loser!chan who was now thoroughly and utterly addicted to you to the point where he couldn't function unless he had his daily dosage of you.
ever since that first encounter, chan knew that he would never get enough of you, but it wasn't until that fated day in which you finally took his virginity that chan knew that he was thoroughly fucked.
he couldn't think of anything but you. during any lulls in class, his mind would go straight to you and all the things the two of you could do together. when he woke up in the middle of the night, it was in a cold sweat as he awoke from a filthy dream about you. even in the moments you were in front of him, in the most innocent of circumstances, his mind would go straight to the gutter.
you had ruined former chan.
after that first time experiencing what it felt like to be with a pretty girl like you, chan had become instantly addicted to the feeling, now constantly seeking you out as much as possible.
he had become a bit of a pervert, in short terms.
instead of you seeking him out, knowing chan was too shy to do it on his own, the dynamic had shifted. now chan would text you asking to come over every other night. he'd occasionally beg you for nudes any time he you were too busy to see him. and the best worst of all had been a few days ago, when you'd caught him sniffing your panties after the two of you had slept together.
chan couldn't lie. he did become a depraved version of himself through the months in which he'd been fooling around with you. it had all just hit a peak when you took his virginity. he now understood why everyone around him was so obsessed with sex. and he believed himself to be insane for not having lost his virginity sooner. except he was thankful he hadn't, because that meant that he now had the most gorgeous girl to please and to please him in return.
at first you seemed surprised by the change, gasping whenever chan would try and take charge and jump you as soon as you stepped into the threshold of his dorm room. but you clearly seemed to enjoy it, feeding into it by teasing him or enticing him into fucking you faster and harder. you'd even left behind a few pairs of panties after having noticed that first missing pair.
~
"m-more, fuck. please ... p-push it back, i need it," he mumbled against your cunt, lazily licking at it from behind.
his arms were holding onto your hips, dragging them against his face as he ate you out.
this was yet another thing chan had recently grown infatuated with – eating you out.
whether it was day or night, chan would take any possible opportunity to get himself between your legs or bend you over in order to get his mouth on your cunt. these escapades would always result in the two of you fucking like animals on the bed, but nowadays chan always insisted in eating you out beforehand.
it was always quite a filthy sight, the way in which he'd still whine and beg for you, even when he didn't get any gratification from the act. crying against your cunt, he'd get more desperate by the minute, forcing you to arch your back more so he could get an even better angle to lick and suckle at you.
like now, as he manhandled you to his desired position in the same fashion of a petulant child, demanding things go his way. you aided him, grinding against his face, only causing him to groan against you yet again.
"cum for me?", he mumbled against you, "wanna taste it so bad ..." he pulled away for a moment, simply staring at your cunt, "its so pretty ... fuck, your cunt's so fucking good to me," he moaned before going back at it even more intensely this time.
it didn't take long for you to cum for him. with the combination of praise and his messy way of eating you out, it was impossible for you to hold back. the worst part was how he moaned and thanked you as he licked every drop of arousal coming out of you. the combination of praise and pleasure made the experience entirely blinding, eventually forcing you to drop on the bed in exhaustion.
he climbed over you, giving you a nasty kiss so you could taste yourself on his tongue.
after months of seeing each other, chan had perfected the art of those messy, wet kisses he loved to share with you so much. sometimes he'd even have to hold back from giving you short and sweet kisses while in public, knowing that his tongue might sneak into your mouth and create a scene of public indecency.
equally as depraved as him, you grabbed onto his hair and pushed his face against your own, moaning as you suckled on his tongue. you made out and felt each other up for some minutes until chan's hands grew too greedy, attempting to flip you over so that he could fuck you from behind.
this was yet another new development in your relationship.
having taken his virginity only some months back, you had shown chan every position you could think of, teaching him the ins and outs in order to optimize his pleasure. as time passed, he became more confident in his ability to fuck you, now often opting to fuck you rather than have you take full control (though he still went crazy any time you manhandled him and rode him all the way to oblivion)
positioning you, he ignored the thought of a condom altogether, having been informed by you that you had a iud and did not feel the need to ever use one with him. chan was yet to know what it was like to fuck with one, and he didn't ever want to find out.
he also learned that he enjoyed teasing you. this would usually take form in him rubbing the tip of his cock against your folds, making you whine and push back against him to get him to slide in.
rubbing himself against you, he hissed at the warmth he felt at barely dipping his tip in a tiny bit. you were always so wet and warm for him. only him. the thought made him push in with no warning, needing to feel the physical manifestation of how much you were his.
groaning at the feeling, he leaned forward, pressing up against your back as he fucked into you. the feeling of naked skin against naked skin was one of his favorite things. he couldn't help but fall in love with the intimacy of it.
"how do you feel s-so fucking good?" he groaned, pace of his hips going crazy against your ass.
"you, channie ... you do this to me. so good. such a good boy," you sighed.
even when he was in control, you managed to take it right back with just your words. your claims of ownership over him along with your praise were things he could no longer live without. he loved that you had been the only person to claim him. he was enamored with the fact.
"y-yeah? i think its you. you gorgeous, gorgeous girl. im yours? y'know what?", he leaned as close to your ear as he could, "you're all mine too."
whining at this, you tightened around him, making him lose his composure yet again. this had been the first time he had rebutted at your usual mumbles of him being your good boy. and he loved it. he loved knowing that even as he was your good boy, you were his pretty girl. his and no one could ever have you again.
continuing to hump against each other like wild animals in heat, your highs came to you at an almost equal speed, optimizing your orgasms all the better.
chan fell limp on the bed, being immediately dragged by you so you could lay by his side and cuddle him like you always did. your aftercare of him always made him cry inside. you took care of him so well, giving him all the affection a boy like him could ever hope for.
the usual i love you's were shared, falling into your slumber without having enough energy to even clean up.
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kingconia · 8 months
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VIL SCHOENHEIT, LEONA KINGSCHOLAR AND MALLEUS DRACONIA WITH READER, WHO IS ALWAYS IGNORED BY THEIR FATHER...
(...Who happens to be the headmaster himself.)
Bonus points: reader studies in the Diasomnia.
Malleus Draconia. 💚
— When he heard for the first time that the new student of the Diasomnia, is the children of the Dire Crowley, he had a very low expectations, to be honest. Not like he hated on you beforehand or something, more like he was too aware of headmaster's character...
— So, he was pleasantly surprised to see that you are completely the opposite of your father. Responsible, hardworking—if not for you being a crow yourself, and having the same surname, he would never guess that you were raised by this man;
— However... It was clear as day that the reason why you had nothing common with him, was because he hardly payed attention to you. You tried so hard by studying diligently and achieving the first places in different school contests, and yet... He didn't really care?
— Malleus had never met his father, but Lilia made sure he would never feel neglected in the way you were. And the mistreatment towards you hurt him even more, than it hurt you.
”Shit,” you groaned, baring your teeth in unhidden displeasure. ”Headmaster will not approve seeing that that these students broke the window.”
Malleus gazed at you curiously—both of you were sitting on the roof, talking about everything and nothing—and the question left his lips by itself.
”We are all alone. Why are you still calling him a headmaster?”
As you brought knees to your chest, resting your chin on them, you shrugged. With voice impassive and eyed cold, you explained:
”I don't have a particular way to call him. He is either headmaster or Crowley. So...”
Malleus's heart squeezed instantly of the thought of that.
It sounded so unbelievable.
He grew up witnessing how gentle Lilia was to Silver, and how the latter called him a father. Their bond, a sincere and tight one, was always an example for Malleus of how families should like. And here you were, ignored by a man, who was the reason you were in this world. How unfair.
”Y/n?”
Malleus thought, if you asked him to fulfill your wish—to make your father love you—he would. Without a doubt.
”Yes?”
But for some reasons, you never do.
”I hope, you understand, a precious raven of mine, that Diasomnia is your family, too.”
So, he can only offer you an alternative. An alternative, where you need to accept that despite not having your father's love, you had all of them—him, Lilia, Silver and Sebek.
”...Thank you for that. I... I try to keep that in mind.”
Yet, you still need some time to comprehend that.
He could wait. They all will.
Vil Schoenheit. 💜
— He was naturally suspicious of you. It is not a secret that Vil hates privileged kids—such as Leona, for example—and for him, it was logical that you were the one, too;
— However, he started to doubt about that after observing you more closely;
— You never skipped lectures, always did your homework and participated actively in the classes. And not only that! Your achievements weren't passing through him—he was quite aware of all your wins in competitions, and a good reputation;
— So, to the moment, when you came to ask for his help for your talent show, Vil already admitted to himself, that despite having a privilege, you were a high achiever, who knew how to work. But, oh, little did he knew, that you were an opposite to the privileged person...
“Y/n-san,” Vil frowned deliberately, glaring at you with a genuine concern in his eyes, ”I think, you should take a little rest. Please.”
With your shoulders shaking, hands being red, and legs hardly keeping you up, you looked awful.
Vil knew how exhaustion looked—he wore it on himself all the time, after all—and he could say for sure, you were too close to the meltdown. If not to the overbolt...
”I can't. I should try harder,” you murmured, voice raspy. ”Only this way I can...”
The desperation in your eyes were so familiar that Vil almost flinched from it. Carefully, afraid of doing the wrong choice, he put hands on your shoulders, squeezing them softly.
”Y/n-san, you are one of the best students of our school. Even more, you are standing on the same place in the world, along with Leona and Malleus,” he reminded, lips slightly brushing your hair as he spoke. ”What else are you trying to achieve?”
”His attention, of course!" A sob that escaped your lips were too gut-wrenching to hear. ”What else I can need, if not a father?”
Vil didn't even try to conceal his own genuine sadness as he heard you saying that. Almost instinctively, he hugged you tightly, allowing to hide in the crook of his neck.
It was the moment, when he regretted that his assumptions about you being spoiled, were wrong. It would be much healthier for you, if he was right.
”Oh, darling,” he whispered gently. ”Cry all you like. You are allowed to.”
And so, you did.
When on the next morning you pretended that nothing happened, Vil wasn't mad at you for that. If anything, he was merely happy that he was able to help you for a while.
...If only you understood how worthy you are.
Leona Kingscholar. 💛
— The unbothered king had only two complaints to you, and both of them sounded ridiculous. Because, he was unhappy with you being a part of Diasomnia, and he couldn't settle with a fact that you were a crow. The end of the story;
— Leona truly couldn't care less about you or your father. What he cared was the fact that you were a powerful rival in the Spelldrive Tournament, and he was slightly bitter to losing both to you and your housewarden;
— Overall, he respected you. And that was why when you offered him to play chess together, he didn't say no. Since that, you became close, always playing together, in the same time and place;
— As Leona became closer to you, he obviously realised that your family relationships were fucked up—takes one neglected kid to recognise the other—but, decided not to pry out. If you want to talk about it, you will. Otherwise, he will not do anything.
”Huh?”
Leona blinked, not caring to mask his astonishment as he saw you sitting in the botanical garden, with chess board being set up, ready for another game.
”Hi, Leona,” you raised your head at him slowly. ”You are late.”
He weren't late, he just didn't know that you will be here.
The school was on the winder holidays, and the prevailing amount of students already left to their houses. As far as Leona had heard, the headmaster was the first one to leave, since he had a special vacation somewhere in the Shifts. Of course, Leona expected you to go there with him.
”...What are you doing here?” He asked bluntly. ”Shouldn't be you on holidays, or something?”
”My house is too empty,” you shrug, the slight frown indicating your irritation by this question. ”I decided, it would be better to stay.”
”...And the vacation?”
”Oh, Crowley never takes me with himself,” you huffed easily.
Leona had no idea that your relationship was that bad. Even Falena always invited him everywhere, just in case if Leona suddenly decides to agree.
”Well?” You rushed him. ”Are you going to play with me?”
There was nothing Leona could say to console you, words never being his strongest quality. But as he slowly made his way to the armchair, he couldn't help but being hit by the wave of the sheer madness towards your father.
How could anyone neglect such an ambitious and perfect kid as you?
”If I win, you are celebrating New Year with me,” Leona finally spoke up, moving the white piece of chess.
Well, it didn't matter. Not like Dire Crowley deserved you anyway.
”And if I do?”
”Then, I am celebrating New Year with you.”
You smiled at him, before concentrating on the game
”How cruel. I am in.”
He couldn't help but feel proud that the smile on your face was his doing.
Perhaps, you had not the best father, but... At least, Leona will make sure, that you will have a perfect holidays for once.
And that was fine, too.
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luveline · 11 months
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SPOILERS FROM SPIDER-MAN ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE BELOW
please don’t read any further if you are avoiding spoilers for satsv
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I hope it’s okay that I took this for a request anon! this is a follow up to The Wishing Tree so you’re welcome to read that beforehand if you want to, but otherwise I think if you’ve seen the movie you’ll hopefully understand what’s happening anyhow. miguel x fem!reader
Miguel's been different lately. Ever since the night he got mugged, he's changed. There's something he's not telling you. You wonder if you should ask him about it, but guiltily, shamefully, you don't want to. You don't want this to stop. 
Because all of a sudden it's like he's in love with you again. You're being cruel to him, you worry, in thinking he didn't love you before. Of course he did. Just getting married, having a child together, it’s changed you both so much over the years, it's only natural that the honeymoon affection faded. Natural, and yet you'd been missing it. You didn't realise how much until now. 
Miguel gets home from work now and he's tentatively sweet. Before, he'd get home, sighing from how tired he felt, overlooked and overworked at Alchemex, and there'd be little energy left in him for more than a kiss on the cheek and a shoulder squeeze. You missed him and you were glad to have him home, but you wanted more from him that you felt you couldn't ask for. 
These days you're waiting by the door and pretending you aren't. You'd be embarrassed if he found out. Maybe he knows; there's no reason for you to be sitting on the stairs with a half full laundry basket in hand, but there you are, your heart racing with an almost teenage-like excitement. 
"Hey," Miguel says, smiling as he brushes through the door. "Are you okay? Why are you sitting there?" He waves his hand at you ineffectually as he takes off his coat, hanging it on the rack. 
"Just got tired," you lie, slightly breathless at the sight of his smile. 
He really looks like he adores you. All the time. It's making you weird, but how are you supposed to react? You'd never slander him to anyone, but it had been so disappointing to wait for him and get brushed off night after night. You know he was tired. You know he was doing it for you, for Gabriella. But you can't help feeling the difference. 
"You sure?" he asks, tucking his bag into the hutch. 
You nod. 
He nods back, murmuring, "Okay," as he leans down to kiss you. On the lips, and not the cheek. 
He takes the laundry basket from your lap quicker than you realise. You can't stop him in time as he steps around you on the stairs and races up them to the bathroom where the washing machine resides. Your heart jumps into your throat —he'll see the full load and he'll know you were sitting there with the basket for no reason at all. You'd wanted to look busy, and now you'll look like a fool. 
You follow him slowly, not wanting to see. Miguel loves you, but he's always said you need affection more than the average person. Not once had he implied that you should feel bad about that, but you had anyhow. What if he thinks you're being childish, wanting to see him? 
He puts the basket next to the washing machine, barely looking at it. "No more chores," he says, grinning at you. "You do too much." 
You blink. "You think so?" 
"Do I think so?" he asks, with a fond incredulity. "You're always doing something. Washing, cleaning, cooking. All you have to do tonight is sit down. Can you do that?" 
"You don't have to tell me twice," you say. 
Maybe this will wear off. Someone held a gun to his chest and it unsettled him, knowing how close he was to dying. He's feeling grateful for a second chance, and it's manifesting in all this extra care and adoring. In another month, he'll settle down. Still your husband, still an angel, but not so touchy. 
Or maybe he'll stay like this. It's been three weeks now and he shows no signs of stopping, if anything he's getting more and more affectionate every day. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders from behind last night while he was sitting at the kitchen table, expecting him to kiss your cheek and gently nudge you away, but he'd covered your arms and held them, kissing a tender line from the crook of your arm to your shoulder. When he spoke it was with a warm, almost husky cadence. Hello, you.
He's staring at you. "What are you thinking about?" he asks. 
"Nothing." He raises his eyebrows at you. "Nothing, just wondering what to make for dinner," you say. 
His hand finds your wrist, pulling you toward him. "What don't you understand about sitting down? I can make dinner." 
"You've worked all day," you protest. 
"What have you been doing?" Miguel pulls your hand to his chest. "What, am I a bad cook?" 
"I'm always asking you to cook," you say. 
Miguel kisses your knuckles where they rest against his collar, rubbing them with enough tenderness to have you reeling. He must see something in your face, because the lovey-dovey softness in his own expression melds to hesitation.
"Is something wrong?" he asks. 
When he looks at you like that, you can't lie to him. "No. It's not that something is wrong, exactly, but… you're being so nice to me." 
Distress or something similar flashes in his eyes, so quickly you think you might have imagined it. 
"I'm not usually like this," he says carefully. 
You're expecting him to be offended by what you aren't saying. You've had similar fights before. I don't have time for this, cariño. 
You shake your head vehemently before he can get the wrong idea, but he isn't mad. His hands are soft as he grasps your shoulders, his thumbs rubbing quarter circles as soon as they touch down. Your surprise is obvious. 
"Do you wish I was nicer?" he asks. 
"You're plenty nice, my love, really. That's not what I meant." 
"No, but humour me." 
You grab his elbow. "It's not about being nicer. I just… I know I can be a bit much for you, and I know what happened was scary and confusing, and now you're back safe, you– you don't have to do all of this. Not if you don't want to." 
He's classically handsome and has been since the day you met, but there's something to be said about how love changes his features. How affection for you softens his strong jaw, his thick eyebrows inching up his forehead just so. 
"I don't want you to be nicer," you say quietly, looking down at his chest. "But this has been nice. I finally feel like–" 
You stop short as Miguel takes your face into his hand. His thumb along your jaw, he tilts your head up straight. 
"What?" 
"I was worried maybe I was getting to be too much for you," you say. "But not lately. I'm sorry." 
The look he gives you is peculiar. He looks sorry, which is both unexpected and not, and he looks glad. Like you've told him something he wants to hear. 
Light from the frosted bathroom window catches his eyes, has brown turning to liquid honey, his lashes a neat hedging that grows fainter in the sun. They lower as his gaze falls to your mouth. 
"Can I…" he trails off.
He shakes his head gently and leans in, pausing a half a centimetre from your lips. You lean in to meet him. 
He kisses you as though there's nowhere in the world he needs to be besides here. He's been so many things since he got home that day, hesitant and hungry, undecided and undulating in his touches. Even late at night, with a hand on his abdomen and your face hovering over his, it was almost like your enthusiasm surprised him. 
And now he's realised that you're surprised in turn.
"If I ever gave you the impression," he says, breaking the kiss suddenly like he can't not say what he's thinking, "if you ever for a moment thought that I didn't want too much, I'm sorry. I was an idiot."  
"It's not like that," you insist.
"I've been different, I know that. Tell me if it's good or bad different." 
You wrap your arms around his neck, on tiptoes to hug him properly. He leans down again, taking the bulk of your weight in his arms like it's easy. Your heels lift off of the tile.
"Good different," you mumble into his shoulder. 
"Was that so hard?" he asks. 
His playfulness rears. You try to get out of his arms before he can start, but his hands dive for your sides. His tickling makes you laugh so loudly that Gabriella abandons the TV in her room and demands to be tickled too. 
—-
thank you for reading and sorry the formatting on this post is ugly but there’s no way for me to put a spoiler warning before an ask so I thought it was best to screenshot the ask and put it underneath one myself!
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wisteriaiswriting · 3 months
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Can you do an autistic trans(if you do that) male reader who doesn’t really get social cues but is overall pretty quiet and reserved with the people from the Hazbin hotel?
𝕊𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝔹𝕦𝕥 𝔽𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕝𝕪
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Words: 1111
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𝔸𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣:
He will be unaware at first, so his first impression about you is not good. Thinks you’re being rude on purpose, but when he finds out that's not the case he’ll feel slightly bad.
For his assumptions he’ll subtly apologize by dropping presents in your room (Unnamed of course.) and lending you a helping hand.
If you two become close he will take you to his tailor to get matching suits, different colours obviously, can’t have you taking his signature colour now, can we?
***
For the first few days you’ve been at the hotel Alastor has been weirdly stand offish. Others didn’t mind, often glad he’s staying away rather than closer. But you wanted to know why, so you asked Charlie.
Who asked Alastor, to which he gracefully answered.
“Well, I don’t enjoy seeing terrible manners around the hotel, surely you don’t either?” At his words the reason for avoidance clicked in her head.
“Why didn't you say so? Well knowing you, you wouldn’t… But Y/N isn’t that good with social cues, so he doesn’t mean any of, whatever he’s been doing.”
“Oh…” At her words he left the room, finding you. “Well hello my Handsome fellow,”
“Hi?” After his most recent actions you didn’t expect him to just waltz up to you.
“Unfortunately someone has ruined my suit,” Correct, a good chunk was missing. “And hopefully you would accompany me?”
“Sure, I guess?”
“Perfect!”
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ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕖:
She's unsurprisingly similar when it comes to social cues.
When it comes to you being autistic or trans she won’t notice, that’ll be the last thing she knows.
You two can not be left alone, someone will need to supervise you both.
***
It has been barely a week since you fell into hell and it’s been terrible. There were too many things happen that you could say or even recall, so today was meant to be relaxing. Or at least somewhat close, until someone pulled you around.
They were your only friend here, so of course you had to follow. After a few hours walking around you found you both in front of a hotel, one called the ‘Hazbin hotel.’ Excitedly knocking at the door while you watched.
Within seconds the door swung open revealing an excited blonde.
“Oh my, hi!” Pulling you both in as she spoke, which allowed you to see other people hanging around. “I’m Charlie, and welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”
“Told ya you’d like it here.”
You were both aware nothing was said beforehand but you didn’t confront them. Seemed like the others knew something was up, so they had Charlie pull you away.
“Since you're new, how about a private tour of the Hazbin Hotel?”
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𝕍𝕒𝕘𝕘𝕚𝕖:
Compared to the other hotel residents your quietness is a surprise, but a welcome one at that.
If you ask or signal at all to her she’ll be at your side to subtly help you with social cues and anything else needed.
Especially if you’re new (Also if not) she’ll help you get masculine clothing, although she might have to get others help as she isn’t the most masculine either.
***
Charlie had just brought you to the hotel in a… not so good condition. She wasn’t sure what you went through to look like that but she knew you needed some help, and she was going to help where she could.
“Alastor, I need your help”
“Hmm?”
“You know the newbie, I have to get him some clothes. Problem is I have no clue where to go.” At her words his smile increases slightly.
“I could help, for a price…”
“Nevermind.”
While she wanted to help she wouldn’t risk anything with Alastor, maybe Angel would be better.
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𝔸𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕝 𝔻𝕦𝕤𝕥:
He’s seen some shit during his time down in hell, so your actions and attitude isn’t seen as weird to him.
To a degree he’ll take advantage of you. Never anything you wouldn’t want, but to keep him safe from Vaggie or Alastor.
But only he can do it, if anyone else even tries he’ll be there to protect you.
***
“Vaggie, why would I do that?”
“Oh I don’t know, maybe you–”
“Doesn’t matter, I would never when Y/N is with me!”
At his words Vaggie looked down at you, finding you wrapped in Angels pairs of arms. You had a few blooming bruises around your face but otherwise seemed alright.
“Just… Don’t do it again, I don’t want to see Y/N or Charlie get mad at you.”
“Really, Y/N mad at me? Never!” One pair of hands had come up to cup your cheeks, able to leave multiple kisses. Causing Vaggie to leave quickly.
“Now, let me take care of those bruises.”
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𝕊𝕚𝕣 ℙ𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤:
He’s been thrown into the same boat as you, has absolutely no understanding of social cues.
If anything the eggs make it worse, as they are somehow worse than sir pentious.
He has accidentally hurt the both of you at once somehow, no one is sure how that happened.
***
The streets didn’t seem too busy, which was weird for hell. But it might’ve been the fact you and Sir Pentious just weren’t aware of them walking. His tail was swaying dangerously behind him, knocking over any people.
During this his eggs were scattered around the both of you. Some stayed behind, in between and some strayed next to you. Which caused an even bigger barrier to form, now people had to step off the path.
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ℍ𝕦𝕤𝕜:
When he first meets you he won’t really care, he’s had worst people hang around.
If he’s being honest he understands and gets social cues, but majority of the time he just doesn’t care about them.
Even then he knows with your lack of awareness you’re likely to get into some unwanted trouble, so he hangs around a lot more.
***
Husk never had the heart to blame you for any trouble, he knew you never meant it. So tonight he accompanied you to a nearby bar, intending for at least a semi-nice night out. But of course someone had to ruin it.
A drunk demon decided he wanted to bother you for the night, ignoring Husk the whole time. But over time his anger rose, you weren’t even looking at him and you didn’t seem interested.
In which you weren’t, but he seemed so incessant that you spoke, even if you didn’t. His attitude quickly became clear very quickly, except you didn’t notice. As he reached for you Husk was quicker, sending a card flying into his head.
That caused everyone to start their own fights. Which gave you two the chance to leave, with minimal injuries of course. Taking the chance you both ran out, luckily no one else was waiting outside.
“We’re going back.”
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