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#but adam's acting like nothing is going on? is he missing something?
nemo-in-wonderland · 2 days
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"Daddy plays rough, trying to act real tough Got a hand around her throat, cause he can never get enough Scratches up and down her back, hair wrapped around his fist Game of predator and prey, never once has he missed Once young and in love, an Adam and an Eve Broke the rules, ate the apple Now neither want to leave Mommy's getting hot, and there's nothing he can do Because daddy doesn't know she likes to play rough too"
Unholy (Sam Smith) 【covered by Anna ft. chloebreez】
as I said in my previous WIP about this artwork.
I AM OFFICIALLY FERAL FOR THESE TWO.
GOING ABSOLUTELY BALLISTIC.
and fml I am so happy with how this turned out, you cannot even imagine! I decided to try something new with this, in terms of rendering, and I am honestly SO HAPPY with how this turned out!
I need to do this style more often tbh.
AND MORE STEAMY MEPHISTO/ARANEA.
MOAR.
(though I do have some angsty stuff that is bouncing around my brain ngl lololol you know me by now).
In the meanwhile, I hope you will like this <3
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discordiansamba · 6 months
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actually I think the absolute funniest possible bodyswap fic would be a pre-Kerberos swap between Shiro and Krolia. Keith just casually wishing he knew who is his mother was the universe responding by revving up the body swap cannon.
Thankfully for Krolia, Adam believes her story, as outlandish as it sounds and agrees to try and help cover up for her while they both try and figure out how this happened and how to fix it. Of course, that was before the wrench is thrown in where she recognizes the kid Shiro basically adopted and reveals that he's her SON. Shiro didn't just swap bodies with some random alien. He swapped bodies with Keith's mom, who is apparently an ALIEN.
VERY thankfully for Shiro, Kolivan believes his story- and most importantly, believes that he has no idea what's going on, and that he didn't intentionally cause this swap. But also now he's in the body of an elite alien super spy in the middle of a ten thousand year old war, while knowing that said alien super spy must be in his body back home.
Also why does she look so much like Keith?
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popamolly · 3 months
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៸៸ ﹟YOU’RE A PERVERT!
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HAZBIN HOTEL CHARACTERS and perverted/kinky acts they love to do.
characters. Charlie, Lute, Husk, Alastor, Lucifer, Vox, Valentino, Adam
warnings. fem!reader, vouyerism, vibrator, dildo, Valentino exists, dacryphilia, kinky stuff, smut, 18+ minors dni, degradation, praise if you squint
author’s note. should i have written for sir pentious? are people even attracted to him? lmk. as well as for anymore characters you would like to see with this prompt, i could always make a part two. don’t forget that my ask box is still OPEN! make sure you read the rules before you submit anything. enjoy sinners <3
𖤐 MASTERLIST
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CHARLIE loves your voice. If she had missed your call, which she usually never does unless she is extremely busy, you would always leave her a sweet voicemail. Voicemails that she keeps to masturbate to later. Charlie didn’t know exactly when it started but she did know that she couldn’t stop. The way her fingertips would glide across her sensitive folds and rub against her clit, she couldn’t help but let out a soft moan as she clutches her phone against her ear desperate to her your voicemail as if you were right there. She could imagine your face, your breath against her neck, and how your hands would move to please her. This was silly, Charlie knew that but whenever you two were separated she found that this was a way to feel closer to you. “I know you’re busy ruling Hell and whatnot Charlie, but I just wanted to check in on you! I’ve been running some errands but I should be home around—!” Your voice from the voicemail recording sounded as if you were right there, talking Charlie through it. Her fingers were working on herself faster because she was just so so close, “—anyways what do you want for dinner? I’ll call you back!” And if the voicemail ended before her sweet release, all she had to do was press replay.
HUSK likes to grope you whenever he gets the chance. You helping him clean glasses? Just a causal breast grab. You standing up on your tip toes to put away some alcohol on the top shelf? He’d squeeze your plump round ass. And Satan forbid you from bending down in front of him to pick something up. He just loved everything about you and he couldn’t keep his hands off. “Husk baby, can you hand me that whiskey bottle?” You asked sweetly, as you stood on a ladder. “Of course.” He grabbed your ass after handing you the alcohol. Could you blame him? It was practically on full display. Husk squeezed and kneaded the plump flesh with a stoic look in his face, as if what he was doing was simply a natural instinct, “Husk!”
ALASTOR would be the type to spy on you from the shadows of your hotel room while you play with yourself. Whether you knew he was there or not, Alastor enjoyed the sight of you fucking yourself with the toy he had gifted to you as a silly joke, but watching your greedy pussy suck in the dildo while moaning his name, maybe it wasn’t a joke after all. He felt his pants growing tight at the sight of you and he wanted nothing more than to pounce on you and fuck you senseless until your throat was raw from screaming the Radio Demon’s name but for now he would watch, “Go ahead, my little doe. Cum for me,” He’d whisper.
VOX would watch the videos he made of him fucking you on his big computer screens whenever he was bored. He didn’t need to jerk off to the sex tape when all he had to do was find wherever you were and fuck you where you stood, oh no, he just liked to watch the videos for fun. He liked seeing your tear stained face on the big screen, whimpering and begging for him to continue to fuck you harder— deeper. The close up of your pussy from the shaky camera video had him groaning. Your ass bounced back on him as he fucked you doggystyle, the lewd sounds of sex filling the room in such a way that it was nothing but a sweet melody in Vox’s ear. You were made for video and he wished he could share that with the world. “Vox! Come here! I have to show you something!” You called from the other room. Vox clicked out of the video with a satisfied smile, “Coming!”
VALENTINO likes to pleasure you in public with a vibrator. This kinky bastard gets off on you trying to hide and cover your moans whenever you are socializing with your coworkers. With the remote in hand that controls the intensity Valentino loves to toy with the buttons, turning it up and down teasingly just to see your legs shake and practically turn to jelly. He would edge you, denying your orgasm until you were both in his room alone but for now? Oh it was just fun watching you squirm. “Ah!” You would whimper, practically grinding yourself into Valentino’s lap while hiding your face in the crook of his neck just as Vox raises an eyebrow in question, stopping his explanation. To that Valentino waves his hand dismissively, “(Y/N), just isn’t feeling too well. Please continue.”
LUCIFER loves to steal your panties. He uses them whenever you aren’t home or out working at the Hotel with Charlie. The way he had gotten fixated on this was purely by accident and obviously your fault. He saw your panties next to his bed— tossed to the side and forgotten by a passionate night of love making no doubt and he couldn’t help but take a sniff or two. Then a deep inhale that had his eyes rolling into the back of his head and he hungrily licked the spot where your pussy would’ve been snug against the fabric. Before he knew it he had your panties wrapped around his aching cock to help him jerk off, and when he came, it was a lot. He was left whimpering, shaking, and bewildered on what he had just done but it was already too late. It became an addiction and now he steals your panties to jerk off. “Lulu, have you seen my underwear? the yellow lacey ones? I can’t seem to find them anywhere.” You ask. “Hmm? Maybe you misplaced them dear, did you check the wash?” Lucifer simply shrugs, looking away from you to continue reading his book. Little did you know that those exact panties were in his pocket right now.
ADAM would be the same as Alastor, only difference is he would sit in front of you while you play with yourself. He would have a front row seat to your shaking legs and dripping wet pussy, all the while making you beg for him. He loved to tease you, to see how far you were willing to go to prove to him that you needed him, “What was that baby? You said you need my massive cock inside you?” Adam would taunt, “I can’t hear you. Open your legs for me.” His fingertips parted your legs as you were getting too lost in the pleasure to keep them fully open. “Mm—! A-Adam! Please! I want you..!” You moaned, head thrown back against the plush pillows. “Oh yeah? Beg for me some more then, hm?”
LUTE loves to watch you choke on her strap on. There is just something about the way your glossy eyes looked up at her. Between that and the sound of you choking due to the tip hitting the back of your throat, it was enough for the Angel to want to do nothing but sinful acts to you all night. Lute would hold on to the back of your head and face fuck you, forcing your jaw to go slack and take everything she was giving you as your saliva escaped the corners of your mouth and dripped onto your breast and the floor. She would talk dirty to you in such a way that your pussy would begin to ache for her touch. “You like this plastic dick don’t you? That’s a good fucking whore, take it.”
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© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost in any other social media.
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b1rds3ye · 10 months
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Mask On
How the boys react to their new ally who is more adamant on wearing their mask than Ghost himself.
Characters: Captain John Price, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick
GN!Reader w/ no physical descriptions (except shorter than Ghost)
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 3.1 (~0.8 each)
Warning: Canon-Typical Violence, Mentions of Reader potentially having insecurities, Not Proof Read
A/N: You know what maybe I want to be the badass masked character 😤
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Captain John Price
The captain is thorough, and he immediately knew something was up when he looked up your file only to be greeted with no photo. He’s honestly a little peeved that his rank doesn’t grant him this confidential information, he’s known Simon before he took up the mask so this is the first time he’s genuinely had a faceless ally
But ultimately, as long as he can trust that you’ll be following orders, he doesn’t care if you have a mask or not. But his concern is only that for a fellow soldier
It takes a little longer for him to warm up to you - facial expressions tell a lot about someone’s character. He’s a bit prickly around you, he learns about you indirectly with how you interact with the rest of the 141
But over time there’s a shift. He can’t pinpoint when exactly but the sight of your mask relaxes him. After days separated on a mission, high stakes and adrenaline has Price snapping his head at the faintest of foreign sounds. But upon the familiar sight of your signature mask, he feels at ease
Price is fiercely protective of you and your mask. He likens it to his hat, only far more important - that mask is part of your identity and he knows just how important a soldier’s psyche is. If the enemy manages to take off your mask, he’ll stop at nothing to get it back on your behalf, even if you reluctantly tell him to abandon it
If he can’t salvage your mask, Price has now made it a habit to carry a balaclava for you in one of his pockets. If that’s not available, he’ll even offer you his hat, tipping it down far enough to obscure your eyes
Off duty he finds himself staring at your visage more these days. Looking at how the mask curves over your features, or the small slivers of skin that reveal themselves. He catches himself before you notice but he’s still disappointed in himself, he feels like a Victorian-era prude hyperventilating at the sight of an ankle
“Looking fresh, sergeant.”
You let out an audible chortle at Price’s words. The last mission was a success but at great costs, one of them being your mask damaged beyond repair during melee combat. Your face still wasn’t revealed, but slashes against fabric embedded with dirt and ash have made your signature mask look unrecognisable. Immediately upon returning to base and after debriefing, you were out of commission until you could don a new mask.
Price would be lying if said he didn’t miss your presence for the last few days, hiding away from the rest of the soldiers in base. He has no doubt you’ve still maintained your training and visiting the infirmary for mandatory checkups, but he’s gotten far too used to you being at his beck and call. The famed sight of your mask is no longer in his periphery, giving a nod of approval (not that he ever needed your approval, but he does enjoy your attention).
And now here you are with a new mask, the highlights glowing under the overhead lights and the darks swallowing up the lightwaves like an animal starved. Your updated look had you noticeably confident, shoulders square and head tall.
“Thanks, Captain.”
He can hear your smile and he ends up sitting next to you. Did he need to sit so close? No, but he acts as though his thigh brushing against yours was pure coincidence.
“What are you going to do with the old one?”
“I don’t know,” you shrug, giving a light pat to a pocket in your cargo pants that your past mask currently resides in. “I know there’s a lot of memories in this… it’s my first mask… but I don’t know what to do with it.”
“I’ll keep it.”
You look at him. Price now has the uncanny ability to read your mood purely through your body language. From the speed at which you turn your head, the inclination of the neck, how your shoulders slant, he’s surprised that such a vicious soldier can act so endearingly in these moments.
“For what?”
“Safekeeping,” he says simply. “I’m proud of my soldiers, sergeant - want to remember their accomplishments.”
You shrug in agreement and fish your mask out of your pocket. You don’t need to know how much Price truly values you, how having your mask will be like having a part of you by his side to motivate him when he’s working alone.
Simon “Ghost” Riley
You’ve got a mask? Cool, so does he. Simon really doesn’t care when he first met you. He offers a simple nod of acknowledgement to you and then it’s all mission talk. If anything, the mask makes him respect you more, like him it’s always the masked ones who’ve seen shit and can get shit done
Even before you two became friends, you two were often paired together for operations. Perhaps it was just assumed the two masked people were on the same wavelength and to be fair, they were right. It didn’t take long for Ghost to admire your prowess on the battlefield
However as the two of you start to get closer, Simon gets a bit of a eureka moment. So this is how all his allies feel when trying to get along with a masked figure, unable to see any of their expressions. Oh how the tables have turned. It’s not daunting for him, more just amusing
He knows the struggles of having a mask so he helps out where he can. He reminds you if it’s been some time since you last washed your mask (advice he does not follow himself) and he’ll offer you some of his obsidian powder he uses to obscure any uncovered patches of skin
Price often has the two of you accompany him for interrogations, he calls it “mask pressure”. There’s nothing more terrifying to a target than having two imposing faceless figures standing on either side of them, unreadable and unpredictable
It’s clear you don’t want to show your face to anyone and Simon doesn’t question it. His natural curiosity is not worth your discomfort and he makes that abundantly clear. If on the rare occasion you catch him without a mask, he’ll sometimes put it back on so that you don’t have to be the only one with their face covered
If your mask is ever compromised, Simon covers you with his hulking figure. No one dares get on the bad side of Ghost who shoots the most terrifying glares towards anyone looking in his - and consequently your - way. He stands in front of you, back rigid and shoulders square, his posture only slacking if he feels you hold onto his back, seeking comfort
A few weeks ago, when left in a briefing, you finally noticed Simon was staring at you from across the room. He had been staring for a good while now, but you - ever the diligent soldier - were distracted discussing tactics with a corporal. So there he was, standing and observing in the corner of the room - his “observing” being drinking the sight of you. And that was when he noticed, among all the glory that was you, that your mask was slightly off alignment. Cue his eyes being trained on your head for you to get the idea that something was wrong.
When your head stayed still - probably challenging his gaze - he tried to change tactics. He added the occasional upward jerk of the head - miming an attempt to shake the mask back in place - but your head only tilted in confusion. You still could not figure out what he was doing.
Eventually he gave up and walked up to you. He lifted a tentative hand, silently asking for permission and you nodded. He pinched at the fabric on the side of your face.
“Your mask’s slippin’,” he said gruffly. It wasn’t the end of the world, only a small adjustment that only someone as observant as him could notice. Still, he felt satisfied at your heavy exhale, you must’ve noticed it’s a little easier to breathe with everything in alignment now.
“Thanks.”
Today, Simon finds your gaze trained on him, head following whenever he moves across the room. You used to stare when you first met, you probably found him intimidating and he doesn’t blame you. He thought you’d be over that though, you two were closer than that. At least he hoped.
“Penny for your thoughts?” He eventually asks and that spurs you into action.
Standing in front of him, you reach up, your hand grabbing the top half of the skull that overlays his balaclava. Your thumb lightly hooks into the skull’s eye socket - a little close to Simon’s actual eye but he trusts you. He feels you tug upwards, and Simon now realises that the skull had been sinking down his face, the peripheral around his brow no longer obscured. He’ll need to reapply the glue for the mask later.
“We really need a hand sign for this,” you mutter.
And so you two make one. It’s discreet, a closed fist with a thumb poking out, dragged from the jawline up to the hairline. The rest of the 141 just look at the two of you in confusion whenever you use it though, your little secret.
Johnny “Soap” MacTavish
Johnny’s generally a good judge of character. Although it’s a little uncanny being unable to see your features, he’s used to it because of Simon. One conversation is all he needs to reach a conclusion as to what type of person you are and now he treats you as if you’re good friends
Yes, he is curious about what you look like under the mask. He used to make comments about it occasionally until he caught you on a bad day
“C’mon Sarge, just a peek.” “Not happening, Johnny.” “What, you ugly?” “… that’s not for you to speculate, MacTavish.” “Shit, sorry. I- I’d never think that of you, or care. I know you’re a looker.”
And Johnny stands by his statement. Even if he’s never seen your face he quickly developed a little crush on you. How you conduct yourself in battle has him watching you with stars in his eyes and he just knows you’ll take his breath away if you ever show your face
When Johnny’s bored, he likes doodling your mask and potential alternative designs in his journal which he’ll show you sometimes. He’s not an artist but he gets the idea across. He’s created a “happy” design, an “angry” one, and the “when I see Soap” design which is just your standard mask with a whole lot of shoddily drawn love hearts on it (you haven't seen that design yet)
He’s genuinely surprised at how determined you are at keeping your mask on in all circumstances - you’re worse than Simon at this point - but he’ll never ask because he doesn’t want to potentially open up old wounds. Despite his curiosity for what you could look like, Johnny will never invade your privacy and ensures no one else does either. If you’re in your room he’ll knock once, twice, thrice, until he’s absolutely sure you’re ready for him to enter
If something goes wrong and your mask falls off he’s looking away and shoving everyone else to look away as well. He’s like a guard dog, shouting and name-shaming anyone who dares look in your direction. No one except other members of the 141 will be able to approach you until you’re covered
Was it smart to have you and Soap - combined to be the most disruptive and obnoxious soldiers on the field - alone to handle a stealth mission that was off the books? No, but you sure as hell weren’t going to disappoint Price or Laswell. The objective was clear and the rules of engagement were even clearer; under no circumstance can the enemy know you’re from 141.
“We’re gonna need to cover our faces,” Johnny mutters absentmindedly beside you. You pull your binoculars down to send him an incredulous look and he chuckles. “I need to cover my face.”
“You got a mask?”
There’s a pause and Johnny’s looking at you, eyes glinting in that familiar mischief. That was never good news.
“You bet.”
You offer a tentative nod of encouragement before lifting your binoculars back up to observe the target site. You hear the repeated shuffles of fabric against fabric and clothes sliding against skin. It’s prolonged, you swear it’s enough time for Johnny to change his entire uniform. His breaths become muted, mouth now covered until it eventually falls to complete silence. It’s unnerving, the designated demolitions expert is not known for his silence, and you have to look back at him yet again.
Of course you expected Johnny to be wearing a mask, but it was the mask itself that took you by surprise.
“Is that… mine?”
“Was yours.”
You squint and somewhere in the depths of your mind, you vaguely recall Soap asking if he could have one of your spare masks back at the base. You humoured him, and said your wardrobe was his.
That was your first mistake.
You figured he was just going to take the piss, wear your mask to scare some privates around the base. You didn’t think he’d actually wear it on a mission. It was unexpected, but it felt like an honour. How he was so willing to identify with you in some of the most dangerous of situations.
But your silence has Johnny getting fidgety. He’s already reaching up to pull the mask off.
“I have a normal balaclava. If you don’t like this I can-”
“Wear it.”
You can’t see Johnny’s face but you see him pull his head back in surprise. Then he smiles, one so wide, expanding his cheeks you can see it stretch your mask. In that moment you’re glad your mask obscures your features as you feel yourself grin at his own joy.
“We’re a team, aye?”
“You bet.”
Kyle “Gaz” Garrick
Kyle’s may be close to Simon but he's not entirely used to masked allies. When you first arrived he shot Captain Price a cautious look, a silent conversation between them finished by Price’s definitive nod. Eventually he relents and puts up with you
Subconsciously, without seeing your face he ends up reducing you to a weapon. He respects you like a soldier, a robot. His language is restrained, only issuing orders and you recite them back
It’s only when another soldier cracks a joke on the mission and you laugh does it flick a switch in Kyle’s mind. You weren’t all orders, you weren’t a machine, you were a human (with a damn nice voice might he add). He feels terrible for reducing you to a tool simply because he can’t see your face but he’ll make up for it now
He becomes a bit of a menace in the sparse quiet moments of a mission. He makes the occasional one liner about how you wear the mask so others aren’t distracted by your good looks, but then changes the topic so quickly you’re not even sure he said it
Yes, Kyle’s a little obsessed with your voice. He can’t see you and he doesn’t have the experience like Price or Simon to read body language accurately. Instead, he can read your mood near perfectly with the inflections in your voice (which is arguably more impressive). While he doesn’t want you to ever be upset or angry, sometimes how you taunt the enemy has a shiver running down his spine
Because your mouth is blocked by a mask, many allies don’t offer you food or drinks. Not Kyle though, if he’s grabbed refreshments, he always ensures he has extra for you. At first he just gives them to you and then leaves. But when you said it was okay for him to stay - trusting him enough to just look away when you lift you mask - Kyle’s heart soared
If anything happens to reveal your face, Kyle is immediately by your side. He pulls you close to provide comfort, while also guiding your head into his neck or shoulder to block anyone from seeing you. Another member of the 141 will find a solution to cover your face, you are Kyle’s first priority and he’ll gladly hold you all day
After a long mission, you and Kyle are finally safe upon reaching exfil. Sitting on a helicopter Kyle slumps against his seat, and you do the same beside him. Although he could finally relax, he feels absolutely filthy, swamped in his own sweat under multiple layers. Dirt and mud caked his boots and crept all the way up to his thighs. Some even sneaked up into under his tactical vest.
He spares a look and sometimes he thinks you can’t possibly be human. The heat is suffocating enough without a mask, Kyle has long forgone his signature cap to let his head breathe. If your body language was any indicator, you weren’t handling the sweltering heat of the helicopter engine or Al Mazrah’s temperament. Your chest notably heaving under the weight of your tactical gear, breaths so laboured it sent the fabric around your mouth pulling and billowing with each inhale and exhale.
There isn’t much Kyle can do for comfort, but he tries. He shifts a little closer to you. Your head shifts to look at him, the movement was far too slow, like your head was too heavy and his heart tugs a little.
With one hand, Kyle gently tilts your face up to him. With the other he lightly pinches the fabric of your mask at the junction between your jawline and ear. Teasing it between his fingers, when he pulls his hand away there’s gunk on his fingertips. Dust, dirt and as he squints at your mask he realises that some of the stains are likely the dried blood of an unidentified enemy.
The hand he’s resting on your chin is about to pull away until he notices how you’re resting your head on it. He can’t see your face but he has no doubt that your eyes are near shut, almost drifting off to dreamland. He occupies himself by gently brushing away loose debris off your mask which has you relaxing further into his touch.
“We gotta wash this,” he murmurs defeatedly.
“... yeah, we do,” you grumble, voice thick with fatigue. Kyle does not stop his ministrations - even pulling some fluff off of the cotton of your mask. It does little to actually clean your mask - at this rate it’s going to need pure bleach to clean it - but he can’t bring himself to stop. Not when you trust him this much, leaning into his touch, entrusting him to be the respite from your mission.
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Masked Reader Masterlist Call of Duty Masterlist
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helluvapoison · 4 months
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Kisses
leaving kiss a mark on adam, lute and lucifer
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˚✧₊⁎ Adam ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• He meets this weird in between where he doesn’t get makeup and will complain about it sometimes
• (People are looking at you, if you wanted his attention you have it now, you don’t need it, blah blah blah)
• But he also loves seeing you wear it
• Secretly, he revels in the way people stare because you’re his!
• At his concerts, Adam needs a kiss on the cheek right before he hops on stage. It completes the look he’s reaching for and acts as his good luck charm
• Outside of that, you don’t let him near your lips because you know he just wants to mess it up!
• “C’mon baby, it’s all I want in the whole world!”
• “Sucks to be you then because there’s absolutely no chance in—!”
• You hold the brush end of a broom at Adam as he makes a grab at you, laughing so hard he doubles over
• “You’re too easy, babe! Quit overreacting, I just want a little smooch before I head out.”
• “Oh no, I don’t think so! You throw a tantrum when everyone looks at me. Don’t you think they’ll be staring when you have a giant kiss mark on your lips?”
• “Who said it had to be the lips?”
• You raise the broom over your head in warning
˚✧₊⁎ Lute ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• It’s comical how cautious she gets around you when you wear lipstick
• One would think you’re carrying a weapon around, what with the way she keeps you at arms length
• PDA disgusts her. Technically, sure, it doesn’t count but the gist of it sets Lute on edge
• She can’t remember if that’s Heaven’s doing or her own, but she would be mortified if someone caught her with even a hint of lipstick on her face
• She would love a kiss goodbye but doesn’t trust your devious mind
• “I have to go!”
• “Then go!” You laugh, hopping over the couch to continue chasing her
• Lute screeches with laughter when you get too close for comfort, “Don’t you dare!”
• You wouldn’t, you just like teasing her
• You hold up your hands to placate her, tilting your head to the side so she can plant a kiss on your cheek instead
• “You better believe you’re getting a big kiss right there when you get back.” You say, deadly serious, tapping her cheek
• Lute wouldn’t have it any other way
˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• There’s nothing he wants more than for you to have a constant claim on him
• A touch of you somehow, someway, somewhere on him ignites a visceral reaction
• Lipstick marks are no acception
• In fact they’re possibly the worst thing you could do to Lucifer if he had something that needed to get done that day
• One on his cheek— oh but now you have to make the other one even!
• Could you plop one on his forehead? How about his nose? Chin? Lips?
• Lucifer will stare at himself in the mirror, admiring your work with a dazed expression and a heavy blush
• He wants pictures too! Lots of selfies, please and thank you
• You thought I was joking? No, the rest of the day goes by like this
• “Waitwaitwait!” “You missed a spot!” “I need one more picture!”
• He crosses his arm and pouts as you wipe his face clean
• You’re careful not to wear lipstick if you know he has to go out because you can’t not give him a kiss goodbye, that would be ludacris!
• Lucifer checks to see if you’re wearing any too but for the opposite reason, disappointment evident on his face
• “Later,” You promise, pressing your lips to his temple and effectively melting away his dismay
~
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ 🐌 my friend! i personally don’t think these characters would be able to get away with having kiss marks on them in public but i didn’t want you to be dissapointed!! :(( i hope this is ok!!! xoxo
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gojossocks · 1 month
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Ex to FWB! Gojo
Ex to FWB! Gojo x Reader content: angst, hurt/comfort, smut
I LOVE A YEARNING SATORU SO MUCH
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Ex to FWB! Gojo who broke up with you out of the blue after a 3 year relationship with you without ever telling you why. He just told you that he lost the spark and he simply grew out of the relationship. He didn’t bother coming to get his things and just disappeared out of your life completely. 
Ex to FWB! Gojo who you saw after a year of no contact in a house party. He’s still as handsome as ever and he went over to you as if you didn’t go through a shitty break up. 
Ex to FWB! Gojo who had this elaborate plan to win you back but only let out a shaky sigh when he’s face to face with you. He misses you, he realizes— so much so that he feels as though he would combust if he doesn’t hold you right now and he wonders how he could endure an entire year without being by your side, without meaning something to you other than the jerk who broke your heart. 
Ex to FWB! Gojo got desperate when you seem to be uninterested with whatever he has to say so he asked you to be fwb with him instead. 
“use me, then.” His words sounded so weirdly nonchalant but you could see the desperation in his eyes as he looked at you with so much intensity. 
and how could you resist him when he’s practically right where you imagine him to be? pleading so much that you’re sure that he’ll beg on his knees if you asked him to. So for your own self-satisfaction you said yes, and his face beamed so bright that it reminded you of the complex history you had with him you desperately try to unrecall. 
So you laid out the rules, He’s not allowed to kiss you during sex, hold you afterwards, or even make a genuine connection during the time you’re hooking up, then lastly, both of you are allowed to date whoever and the arrangement wouldn’t continue anymore if any.
He scoffed when you told him the rules but you noticed the way he looked so nervous under the flashing lights.
Ex to FWB! Gojo who kisses you like he needs you to breathe, slipping his tongue when your mouth slightly parted, groaning when he finally gets to taste you. 
Ex to FWB! Gojo died and almost went to heaven (cum in his pants)  when you breathily whispered his name—”Satoru”,  for the first time since he broke up with you. He had to teleport the both of you to his bedroom before he rips your dress off for everyone to see. 
Ex to FWB! Gojo holds your hand while he’s fucking you, the other wandering your body until it reaches your clit, drawing fast  harsh circles until it has you writhing underneath him. He remembers your body too well, even more than you do. He buries his face in the crook of your neck to prevent himself from kissing you. 
Ex to FWB! Gojo who fucks you like there’s no tomorrow, pounding into you harshly that you couldn’t even think anymore. He got you so cockdrunk that the only word you remember is his name. It doesn’t even register to you when the bed frame breaks.
Ex to FWB! Gojo who desperately wants to kiss you but bites your neck instead when he cums deep inside you. He doesn’t stop thrusting even when you’ve both already came because he wanted a few more minutes to cage you in his arms because it’s the only time he only gets to do it. 
Ex to FWB! Gojo felt disappointed when you left after the two of you fucked. He feels a hole punctured in his chest after you left him alone in his own apartment, he didn’t get to sleep that night. 
Ex to FWB! Gojo getting frustrated when you’re adamant to follow the rules you made after 2 months of fucking. Each time he tries to make his actions genuine, you ask him to go faster and be rougher with you. He thought that little ‘act’ of yours is just a front to make him win you back but he soon realizes that you were being serious and you’re really only using him for your own sexual pleasure— all because he’s good in bed and he knows your body well. Nothing more, nothing less. 
Ex to FWB! Gojo fakes his sleep to see what you’re going to do with him—if you’re going to run your hands through his hair, caress his cheek, kiss his forehead or speak to him when you think he’s asleep. Those little things that he took for granted during the course of your relationship that he misses so much. Instead, you get dressed and leave. The hole in his chest expanded tenfold after that. 
Ex to FWB! Gojo who ‘coincidentally’  shows up near your apartment or the place where you work, claiming that he just happened to hang near where you’re at. He attempts to talk to you only to be met by subtle rejections and your fake excuses to go somewhere else. 
Ex to FWB! Gojo who finally realizes the damage he has done with your relationship and how good he had it with you. He regrets not talking things out with you and leaving you without explaining the truth, that really, he’s just scared that he wouldn’t know what he’d do if he loses you because of the nature of his work or you realize that you deserve someone better than him.
Ex to FWB! Gojo who misses it when you used to look at him with soft, loving eyes. Not the one driven out of primal need and lust you always give him before the two of you fuck. He loves the scratches you give down his back, he thinks it’s a tangible proof that he still somehow has a hold on you and you’re still not completely out of his life, at least not yet.  He wishes he could just show you how much he’s in love with you still— if only you’d let him. 
Ex to FWB! Gojo who jokes about you staying the night, coaxing you to agree with him to just sleep in his place because your apartment is far away, you’re tired, and you have work tomorrow. Not because he wants more of you. (his whole being is shaking with need) 
Ex to FWB! Gojo yearns for you so much that he couldn’t hide his despondent face anymore when you rejected his attempt to ask you out to stay over for the third time.
Ex to FWB! Gojo who heard from your mutual best friend, Shoko,  that you’re going on a blind date next week and that you’re planning to break up the arrangement that week too. 
Ex to FWB! Gojo who wishes you would give him a chance to explain everything, to win you back and allow him in your life again.
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mohavesun · 5 months
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leon roommate au part 2 :) pt 1 is here
warnings: 18+, leon being pathetic, begging, worshipping (?), degrading kink, masturbation, dom/sub, reader is dominant. a bit of overstimulation.
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leon’s behavior only got worse as time went on.
it was a one-time occurrence, and he never intended it to repeat.
but it did.
one, then twice, then three times.
what made it worse was that he was still leon, still the boy you considered your best friend. he was sweet, considerate, always bringing you your favorite pastry from the lounge, always helping you with your studies. he couldn’t only imagine how you would feel if you knew how perverted he had become.
it all came to a standstill when you came back early from class.
leon had reached a new low—now, instead of using your clean, fresh underwear to huff while jerking himself off, he had graduated to using the pair of underwear you had worn the night before.
he just couldn’t help it. once you left the room, he saw the light pink fabric of the lacy panties with a bow on the front, just sitting in your hamper, begging for his attention. he fished it out, mouth watering when he saw the slightly darker fabric, right were your cunt would be pressed against the clothing. you must’ve been wet at some point during the day, because the fabric was still slightly moist.
oh, god. this was a dream come true for your sweet, innocent roommate. almost like an animal, he brought the panties to his face, sniffing the scent of your vagina, licking the wetness that tasted like honey on his tongue. he was so caught in the bliss of finally—finally tasting you, he completely ignored how hard his cock was. he let out a soft groan, still knelt by your wicker basket of dirty clothes, pressing the panties into his face as though it was the most delectable thing in the world. his lust was something else entirely now. obsession? maybe. all he knew for sure was that he was deeply in love with you. and that he was absolutely, horribly pathetic.
his tongue lapped at the remains of your sweet nectar, desperate to taste every last drop, hopelessly and shamelessly, to the point that he almost even felt guilty for being such a creep.
he was so lost in the heavenly sensation of your panties, that he didn’t even hear the door open. all he heard was the drop of a backpack, snapping him out of his haze, snapping his head to look at where the thud had originated from.
your face alone sent a sinking feeling into his stomach.
your eyes were wide with shock, brows raised and mouth fallen agape. those beautiful lips that he loved so, so much, hanging open in surprise (and maybe disgust? he was far too horny to be able to read anything right).
“leon?” was all you stammered out. you had noticed some of your underwear going missing, only to return to your drawer the next day. but leon? leon would never. leon was sweet, he was gentle, caring, and not at all disrespectful or dirty. or were you just not paying attention? had you been so absorbed into idolizing him that you forgot he was, at the end of the day, a man?
and yet, there he was. your roommate, your study-buddy, your crush, your best friend—with a pair of your panties in his mouth, lips open and tongue resting on his bottom teeth. there was no way.
“oh—fuck.” was all leon could say, swallowing hard, the adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he did. his mind was scrambling for some sort of sorry excuse, but nothing could come to mind. he was far too lost in his hormones to be able to form a proper thought. and to make it worse, to have him watch you in the act? it sent a throb to his cock.
that’s when your eyes fell from his face, to his erection, which was blatantly visible through his joggers.
“what… the fuck.” your mouth was dry, shock taking hold of every ounce of your being. he had never been creepy with you, never crude or lewd. hell, you’ve never even seen him checking out any woman.
“i’m so… so sorry!” leon finally came to his senses, dropping the underwear and nervously chewing his bottom lip. “i-it’s not… i, i mean, it’s not what you…”
“what are you doing?” you slam the door behind you, bounding over to him and swiping the panties from the floor. “were you… are you stealing my underwear?”
leon shook his head vehemently. “no! no, no, i swear!” it was true. he hadn’t stolen your underwear. merely sniffing them and jerking off… which is not any better, really.
you frowned, an obvious sign of disappointment. “is that why my underwear randomly goes missing for a day, only to show up the next? oh my god. i cant believe it. you’re a perv! you’re… you’re a total creep.”
he flinched at your words. despite the burning sensation of shame, your words sent a wave of arousal through him. he had never suspected he was into degradation, but…
you could tell he was even more turned on, his cheeks growing even darker, as if it were possible. “oh my god. you like that?” you scoff, crossing your arms with a smug expression, brows creased.
all he could say was, “i’m sorry.” in his defense, he really did seem sorry. he was almost on the brink of tears, looking like a lost puppy on the floor, still on his knees. “i-i’m sorry.”
“leon…” you say slowly, as if weighing the odds. okay, you did have a crush on him, and of course you had lusted after him ever since you met him. and it was a little charming, seeing him so desperate and pleasing at your feet. eventually, you found the words you wanted. “beg.”
his eyes widened. “beg?” he repeated, trying to understand what you mean.
oh. oh!
he clasped his hands together. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry, please, please forgive me. please. you don’t know how sorry i am.” his voice was wavering—he was being serious. despite his serious desire to please you, he was also painfully aware of how hard he was.
you smiled at him.
his heart fluttered. how absolutely precious it was to him, to see you smile, despite how much you ought to hate him.
“oh.” he whispered, looking up at you in adoration, waiting for your next command. eventually, a moment of silence, he hopefully asks, “so… you aren’t mad?”
maybe you should be mad. he’s invaded your privacy, he’s violated your very innocence. and yet… he looked so sweet when he looked up at you with wide, glassy eyes. and now was the time to live your dream, right?
“leon. if you really want me to forgive you…” your eyes scanned his body. he was knelt on his knees, hands held together. his shoulders were slumped, hopeless, degenerate. and between his legs, his throbbing erection painted a slightly dark stain on his gray sweatpants. you held out the pair of panties in front of him. “keep going.”
keep going? his heart skipped a beat. he didn’t even question you. he snagged the panties from your hands, pressing them into his face, his tongue dragging across the slightly sticky fabric, the tangy taste like heaven. and now that you were watching? he felt like he was going to blow up, his cock almost hurting from how hard he was. his left hand pressed the fabric to his face, his right hand fishing his thick hard-on from his pants. his movements were slow, embarrassed. there was no doubt about it— he was shy.
despite his shaking fingers, he slipped his cock free from its confines, and his eyes watched you as your tongue licked your top lip.
pre-cum seeped down the tip, sticky, his veins throbbing from neglecting his desires for so long. he let out a muffled cry as his hands slowly pumped his shaft. it was only them that you spoke again.
“you’re so pathetic. hold out your hand.” you commanded, arms crossed. leon followed your request, holding his hand out.
you spat onto his hand, gracing him with your saliva to jack himself off with. he let out a sigh. “oh, god… thank you. thank you,” leon stammered, immediately going back to pumping his thick, throbbing manhood. the feeling of spit—your spit—slicked up and down his dick was insane. “so—so pretty. oh, god, you’re so beautiful, i… fuck, fuck… i-i’m so… you’re so perfect…” he felt like he could bust right there, his balls twitching from the intensity.
“please… can i… can i cum?” he begs, eyes wide and looking pleadingly at you for permission.
“but you just started,” you raise a brow, grinning as you looked at him. “you can’t stop now. keep going.”
leon let out a high-pitched whine, jerking himself off faster, only to slow down once more, his breath heavy and uneven. he could feel your gaze on him, almost is if you enjoyed watching him torture himself.
but god, it felt good. better than when he touched himself all alone. he had no idea shame could feel so good.
“please. please, i… oh, god, i can’t do this much longer,” leon whimpered, sniffing and huffing your panties like he was running out of air. he let out a series of low cries, his hips beginning to buck sloppily into his fist, his pace growing uneven. he moaned, pleading, “please. please, i-i can’t… i…”
you felt a stirring sensation of guilt for making him torture himself. but you’d be lying if your panties weren’t soaked right now… which gave you an entirely new idea. you reached under your skirt slowly, thumbs hooking the sides of your panties, pulling them down slowly.
his eyes were wide. as if he knew what was going on, he dropped the panties he had previously been sniffing.
stepping out of the underwear, you took the fabric in your hands, placing it on your palm before shoving it into his face. he gasped, licking ferociously at your soaked panties, as if it was your pussy itself. he couldn’t take it anymore. the taste of your fresh slick was enough for him to cum, his seed shooting onto the floor, spilling on his knuckles. his moaning and crying was muffled by the panties you held on his mouth, but his eyes rolled back, and his hips were stuttering, thighs quivering.
“god, you’re desperate…” you mused, watching his orgasm tear through him.
leon babbled something that you couldn’t quite understand as you pulled the panties from his face, dropping them to the floor. he was quick to scoop up the underwear, holding it in his hands like a precious jewel. drool dribbled down his chin as he came down from his high, arguably the most intense orgasm of his life.
you just smiled at him, shaking your head. “you’re forgiven.”
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bloody-peach · 3 months
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Anything For a Friend Part 1: A Friend in Need is a Friend Indeed (Hazbin Hotel: Alastor x F!Reader smut fic)
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(gif made by me)
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Now Playing: Closer x Beautiful is Boring, Animal, Blood (please listen to these while reading this, you will not regret it)
Goodie bag: vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex, cock rubbing, tentacles, mating season, monster sex, monster fucking, rough sex, cursing, creampie, wall sex, somewhat of a slow burn at first [let me know if i miss anything]
A/N: Okay, so before I continue, I feel the need to say something. I know Alastor is aroace. I know it, you know it, we all know it. In the show's canon, I completely respect that. I have a friend that's aroace, and I have a deep respect for them and the community. However, this story is outside of canon, where anything goes. Plus, in this, Alastor still doesn't normally feel sexual attraction towards anyone, except when he's in his rut. But he is not aromantic in this. You can say he's demi-romantic; there needs to be a very deep connection between him and the target of the affection in order for romance to occur, hence why it happens here due to him and Y/N being so close. So yeah, no disrespect is intended here. I just want to give the people what they want. Besides, I'm clearly not the only one who is guilty of putting Al in sexual situations. I'm just aware of the implications this could bring and tried to give it some respect to the character. So if you're offended by even the idea of Alastor being romantic or him having sex at all, feel free to skip this. I won't blame you one bit. Anyways, enjoy!
Taglist: @omniuravity @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered @neonvehk @moths-and-mantids
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It was the beginning of October. Something was going on at the hotel. Alastor was staying away from everyone, holing himself in his room. You knew this wasn’t like him. Today, when you first confronted him about his odd behavior, he pushed you away and ran to his room. He had a panicked look in his eyes, which was an expression you never saw from him before. That’s how you knew something was wrong. You asked around the hotel to find out what happened, but they just told you that they didn’t know and to just let him be. But you refused, you knew you had to help him somehow, regardless of what everyone else said. That night, you walked up to his door and knocked on it.
Alastor softly groaned, turning his head slightly to glare at the door. As he walked to the door and prepared his speech in his mind, he heard your voice. “Alastor...? It’s me, Y/N. Are you okay?” He opened the door and was surprised to see you standing there, a worried expression marring your normally cheerful features. He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair before letting out a sigh as he tried to control himself. “Y/N...” He muttered, his voice laced with a mixture of disappointment and frustration. Despite his efforts to push you away to keep you safe, here you were, like a loyal little puppy. He avoided eye contact and said, “I said I don’t want any company. Please, just go.”
You noticed how disheveled he looked, his suit in disarray and partially open, exposing the scar on his chest from his fight with Adam. His breathing was heavy, like he had done something strenuous inside his room. You focused on the task at hand, saying, “You’ve been avoiding everyone all day and been so distant towards me. You’ve never acted like that before. Did something happen?” Alastor’s eyes narrowed as he stared at you, his heart beating faster as he looked at you. He knew that he should maintain distance, but seeing you so concerned about him made it even harder to resist the primal urges inside him. With a deep breath, he tried to gather his thoughts and come up with an explanation that wouldn’t reveal what was really going on. “It’s nothing important,” he muttered, attempting to sound dismissive. But the worry in your eyes made him rethink his response. “Just a minor issue, really. Now please, go back to your room.” He took a step forward, trying to usher you away from his room. His tentacles were starting to emerge from his back, twitching slightly, antsy to just grab you and pull you in.
You look into his eyes and knew he was lying. “I know you’re lying, Alastor. Your eyes give away so much. Right now, they’re saying, ‘Help me’.” His gaze flickered briefly before returning to its normal coldness, masking the conflict within him. “No, really, I’m fine,” he lied, forcing a chuckle. “You shouldn’t worry about me.” However, despite his words, he couldn’t shake off the desire burning brightly inside him. With a pleading glance and then a defeated sigh, he reluctantly stepped aside, allowing you entrance into his room. “Come in. Please, sit down.” He pointed towards the antique couch in the corner, trying to distract himself with tidying up some papers strewn across his desk as you sat down. You noticed that his room was a total mess, things flung all over the floor, scratches on the walls and furniture. Even the couch you were sitting in had some claw marks embedded on it. As you looked around, he busied himself with picking up random items and placing them back neatly, hoping the movement would help calm his racing thoughts. But you noticed something. “Alastor...? You’re not okay. You’re shaking.”
Alastor froze mid-movement, his hands trembling slightly as he held onto a stack of papers. “Fuck...” He cursed under his breath, his eyes soon meeting yours. “I..I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to involve you in this. I promise that everything is under control.” He quickly set down the papers and attempted to regain his posture, fixing his suit and tying his bow tie nervously. “Perhaps we can chat in the morning when things have settled down?” He suggested, offering his signature smile. Deep down, he knew he needed help, but admitting weakness wasn’t easy for someone like him. For now, he could only hope that time would ease his torment. You got up and walked over to him, gently taking his hand and looking at him. You spoke in a concerned yet soothing voice, “Please...tell me what’s going on. I want to help you, Alastor. I don’t care what it is, I’ll help you no matter what.” Alastor hesitated for a moment, his mind battling between acceptance and denial. Finally, he let out a resigned sigh and gently gripped your hand, feeling a wave of warmth emanating from your touch. Despite his fear right now, Alastor found solace in your presence, knowing that you were willing to stand by him no matter what. Your unwavering support was both comforting and overwhelming; it reminded him how much he truly cared for you.
You and him were like two peas in a pod, the closest of friends. You two were so close, you were the only one permitted to touch him without any consequences. Even Rosie was surprised when she saw you two hug at one point. It was clear you both cared for each other deeply, but Alastor, being himself, was always one to deny it when others brought it up. But deep down, Alastor admired your compassion and putting others before yourself. He didn’t know why, it was something about you that drew him to you. If there was one person he could trust with his life, it was you.
“It...It’s my rut season again,” he confessed softly, averting his gaze from yours. “I’m usually able to handle this just fine, but...lately, I’ve been struggling to control myself, especially around you.” He gripped your hand tighter, his voice barely audible. “If I lose control, I know I’ll end up hurting you or worse - change into something...most unpleasant.” You smiled and cupped his cheek, turning his head to face you. “Is that what this was all about? Alastor, you had me worried sick.” Alastor looked at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and relief as he met your gentle gaze. Your reassuring words eased some of his anxiety, but the fear still lingered in the back of his mind. “Thank you for understanding. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said as he leaned into your touch. His heart pounded against his chest, the scent of your perfume wafting through the air. Though he appeared calmer, the tension in his body remained, a testament to the struggle he faced internally. You concern brought him comfort, but it also heightened his awareness of his inner turmoil.
In that moment, you made a decision. You looked him straight in the eye and said, “Alastor...if it really is that troublesome for you...I’ll help you through it.”
Alastor’s eyes shot wide and a small blush appeared on his cheeks, a look very unlike Alastor. He shook his head vigorously, pulling away slightly. “No, no, it’s fine. Really, I appreciate your offer, but--.” That’s when you hugged him before he could finish his sentence. Surprised yet pleased by your bold move, Alastor hesitated for a moment before slowly wrapping his arms around you, returning the hug. The warmth of your body against his calmed him somewhat, and he leaned his head against yours, closing his eyes. You spoke gently, “Alastor...I care about you. Deeper than just friends. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you through anything. Please...let me help you here.”
Normally, he would be repulsed at the idea of having sex. He never felt any sexual attraction to anyone, not even when he was a human. But even asexuals have their bodily urges, whether they want to or not. And since he became a demon, these urges became stronger, much stronger. He had thought about coming to you for this, but he was afraid of chasing you away. He cared for you as deeply as you did for him, and he didn’t want to ruin that. Finding a friend like you in Hell is like finding a diamond in a vast desert, and he certainly wasn’t going to go and throw that away. But seeing you being so supportive and seeing your want to help him, he started to second guess his choices. Maybe it was okay to let you help him. It was just a friend wanting to help another one out with something they were dealing with, and they were pretty close already. Plus, this could help him deal with the month much easier if there was someone to help him release the constant urges, and it was a way for them to make their bond stronger than anything.
“Alright, Y/N,” he murmured softly, his voice breaking slightly. “If that’s what you truly want, then I’ll accept your help.” In that instant, he felt a sudden surge of strength coursing through him, as if some invisible weight had lifted off from his shoulders. “Thank you...thank you,” he repeated, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. You smiled and wiped a tear away from his eye before you leaned in and kissed him softly and tenderly. Alastor’s lips parted involuntarily at your touch, his tongue tentatively seeking entry into your mouth. The taste of your lips against his own sent waves of pleasure coursing through his veins, making it difficult for him to think straight. However, he forced himself to pull away after a brief moment. “I...I can’t...I..I...We’re in public...” You were confused for a moment until you realized that the door was left wide open, anyone could walk by and see the current scene. You walked over and closed the door, locking it. You turned back to Alastor and said, “Now we’re in private.” Alastor blinked for a moment and then he let a low growl escape him, his eyes gleaming dangerously as he walked towards you. “Private or not..We need to focus on the conversation first.” Despite his words, he couldn’t ignore the animalistic urge gnawing at him, demanding release. You were a bit confused. “What conversation is there to have? Boundaries?” Alastor chuckled softly, tilting his head. “I suppose there is that, isn’t there?” Fed up by his attempts at avoiding the inevitable, you decided to lay it on him. You looked him in the eye and said, “I’ll just give it to you straight, since it’s easier that way. I’m open for making this friendship deeper. I’m willing to give myself to you if it’ll help you though this rut. I’m not worried about you hurting me, I can handle a lot more than you think. All I want to do is to help you, and there’s only one way to do it. I don’t know how you feel about it, but that’s how I feel.”
Alastor stared at you, his eyes widened and his heart pounding in his chest as he processed your words. This revelation was more than what he expected, but despite his confusion and apprehension, Alastor couldn’t deny the swelling desire within him. Slowly, he reached up and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle yet firm. “Y/N...” He breathed out your name, his voice laced with emotion. “You’re offering yourself...to help me..? Are you sure about this?” His eyes searched yours, looking for any signs of doubt or hesitation. The thought of having you so close was almost too much to bear, but he knew he had to be careful not to push you beyond your limits. You nodded, with zero hesitation. “I am. I’m more sure of this than anything,” you said as you cupped his cheek.
Alastor’s breath hitched at your determination, his eyes never leaving yours. Your touch sent electric shocks throughout his body, making it impossible to resist the urge any longer. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss, his tongue delving deeply into your mouth. You kissed him back deeply, wrapping your arms around him, softly moaning in his mouth. His tentacles stirred restlessly, eager for more than just physical contact. But he focused on the present, savoring the taste of your lips and the feel of your body pressed against his own. In this moment, all other worries seemed trivial compared to the connection you both shared. Alastor groaned into the kiss, his hands sliding down your back to grip your hips firmly as he pinned you to the wall. The sensation of your body against his, coupled with the sound of your moans, drove him wild. Breaking the kiss, he said softly yet seductively, “God, you taste divine...” His voice was raged, his eyes half-closed in lust. “Let’s...let’s get you undressed, shall we?”
With that, he began unbuttoning your shirt, his movements hurried yet precise, his mind fixated solely on satisfying his primal desires. He pulled open your shirt and the tentacles remove it along with your bra. You moaned softly as you felt the tentacles brush along your skin. Alastor’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of your bare breasts, his breath catching in his throat. With deft precision, two of his tentacles wrapped around each of your breasts, gently pinching and stroking your nipples simultaneously. Hearing your moans made his smile widen and his eyes close half-way. “How beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. The rest of this tentacles danced around you, exploring every inch of exposed skin, their movements slow and deliberate. Despite his best efforts, as he watched the tentacles remove the rest of your clothes, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that this was more than just a conquest - it felt like something sacred, something meaningful. Maybe it was.
You moaned as the tentacles wrap around you, they felt so warm against your skin. Alastor’s eyes roamed greedily over your naked form, drinking in every curve and contour of your body. His cock throbbed in his pants, straining against the fabric, begging for release. “You’re perfect,” he whispered. “Just perfect.” Without further ado, he took his jacket and shirt off and then pushed his pants down, freeing his massive member from its confines. It stood erect and ready, dripping with pre-cum, as he went up to you. He leaned so his lips were to your ear and purred, “Tell me, my lovely Y/N. Do you want this? Do you want me to claim you fully?” His tentacles continued to explore your body, teasingly brushing against your sensitive spots, driving you wild. You looked at him, your eyes and voice full of desire, “Yeah..I..I do..” You then reached out and stroked his cock while licking his neck. Alastor hissed at your touch, his entire body tensing in response. You stroked him gently, your hand warm and soft, sending waves of pleasure cascading through him. He looked at you, his eyes glowing red. “You’re killing me, sweetheart.” He grasped your waist, pulling you closer, aligning his erection to your pussy. “Are you ready for this?” He asked, his voice heavy with desire. “This is going to be rough, my dear. I can’t promise to hold back completely.” He paused, waiting for your answer, knowing full well that despite your willingness, you deserved to make an informed decision. You cupped his cheek again and smiled as you nodded. You spoke in a voice full of need and desperation, “Please...put it in...” You didn’t have to tell him twice.
His hips bucked forward, pushing his length inside you with one swift motion, causing him to groan in pleasure. The sound of your moan was muffled against his neck as he buried himself to the hilt, his member stretching you wide. His tentacles wrapped around you tightly, supporting your weight as he started moving rhythmically, thrusting in and out of you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, moaning at each thrust. Each powerful thrust send waves of pleasure coursing through the both of you, growing your arousals. Sweat trickled down his forehead as he lost control of himself. “Oh sweet Satan, you’re tight!” He growled, his voice hoarse with lust. “You feel amazing, so fucking good...” His pace quickened, becoming faster and harder, matching the intensity of your mutual desire. You couldn’t help but let out your moans, “Ohh fuck...so good..!” Seeing your eyes roll back in pure ecstasy and hearing your words spurred him on. His thrusts grew frantic, his hips slamming against yours relentlessly. “That’s it, take it,” he panted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Take everything I have.” The room echoed with the sounds of your passion, filled with gasps and moans. His tentacles brushed against your skin delicately, adding another layer of stimulation to the already intense experience.
As he kept thrusting, you saw him start to change. He let out a animalistic growl as his transformation accelerated, his body shifting under the influence of his primal urges. His antlers grew much larger, their points almost scraping the ceiling, while his muscles bulged with power. His eyes changed, the sclera turning black and his irises glowing red, drool dripping from his mouth that showed his sharp teeth. “Fuck, Y/N...” His voice was deep and guttural now, his full demon form now on display. “You’re mine, aren’t you? Mine to possess and devour?” Each thrust became more violent, his movements brutal yet tender, driven by an insatiable hunger only you could satiate. His tentacles pulsed erratically, eager to join in the frenzy, but bode their time to let Alastor be the star of the show. You moaned even louder, losing your mind over the pleasure. “Ahh..A..Alastor...! Y..Yes..! I’m yours..! I..I belong to you...!” Alastor’s eyes glowed crimson, his face contorted in a mix of pleasure and agony. “Yes!” He roared, his voice echoing through the room. “You’re mine, Y/N! My sweet, sweet Y/N!” With a final thrust, he came inside you, his seed spilling out in hot waves, causing you to cum so hard, your mind was gone. His final few thrusts caused a second orgasm to rock your body. His body shook violently and once he left his high, he slowly transformed back to his normal form.
He grabbed you and collapsed on the bed with you in his arms, panting heavily. He pulled you close, gently grabbing your chin, and whispering, “You’re mine, forever and always.” His tentacles finally joined the fray, caressing your skin gently, soothing the ache left behind by your passion. You held him, your hands gently rubbing his back. Once you looked at him, you saw that he was grinning mischievously. You were wondering why until you felt the tentacles grab you, wrapping around you. “You know I couldn’t hold them back forever.” Each tentacle danced across your skin, exploring every inch of your body, sending shivers down your spine. They slid into you and into your ass, mimicking his previous thrusts, stretching you wide and filling you up, going deeper than he ever could. You felt one tentacle slip over to your lips and when you let out a moan, it slipped into your mouth, going deep down your throat. You couldn’t help but suck on the appendage invading your mouth and filling your stomach with its essence. Despite the fullness, you couldn’t help but moan at the sensations, your body still craving more. “You’re such a precious little thing, darling,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “So sweet, so perfect.” His tentacles continued their rhythmic dance, keeping you on the edge of pleasure. Despite his exhaustion, his eyes gleamed with desire, promising many more nights like this to come.
“You thought it was just one time, sweetheart? Come on now, you know better than that. Oh, this is just the beginning, my dear. We’re in for one wild night...”
~~~♡♡♡~~~
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tismrot · 8 months
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GOOD OMENS in CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER (a fanfic helper)
I tried to find this online, but I only found bits and pieces here and there. This should be a very good tool when writing fanfics, or just for understanding the narrative - so, here's my best attempt at a timeline for the canonized events in the show. Let me know if I missed any, or if something is wrong! CHRONOLOGY of GOOD OMENS 4004 BC: Before the Beginning (Sunday, October 21st, Nowhere, no name for Crowley) Aziraphale meets Crowley as an angel in Heaven pre-Beginning and Crowley makes a star factory. 4004 BC: The Eden Wall (Rather more than 7 days later, Crawley) Crowley finds Aziriaphale on the Eden wall and they talk about right and wrong. Aziraphale gave his sword to Adam and lies to God about it. Eve looks about 6 months pregnant. 3004 BC: Noah’s Ark (Ancient Mesopotamia, Crawley) Crowley finds Aziraphale in front of the Ark and they talk about how God will drown kids. 2500 BC: A Companion to Owls (Land of Uz, Crawley) Crowley and Aziraphale work together to save Job's kids from God. 1353 - 1336 BC: Nefertiti's reign as queen, during which, at some point, Aziraphale did a magic trick for her. (Thebes/Luxor, ancient Egypt, Crawley) (unfilmed, just mentioned) We know he fooled her with a "lone caraway seed and three cowry shells" 33 AD: Crucifixion of Jesus (Golgotha, Palestine, name change to Crowley) Crowley (canonically confirmed female form) tells Aziraphale she showed Jesus the world. 41 AD: Oysters in Rome (41 AD) Aziraphale playfully tempts Crowley to go eat oysters with him at Petronus' restaurant. If this isn't innuendo, I don't know what is. 537 AD: Medieval England/King Arthur (Kingdom of West Essex) Aziraphale as a knight of the Round Table meets the Black Knight (Crowley) who suggests the Arrangement for the first time. Aziraphale says no. 1020: The Arrangement is agreed to (unfilmed, just mentioned in the book or by Neil) I can't find the exact date - tell me if this is wrong? 1040 - 1601: Crowley and Aziraphale act on their arrangement "dozens of times", as mentioned in the Globe Theatre. As far as I've understood this arrangement (correct me if I'm wrong) it means that whenever they receive orders from Heaven or Hell, they tell the other, compare notes, and if it takes place in the same area, they agree that just one of them has to go do both tasks. Either that, or both tell their respective bosses that the task has been done, because they would have cancelled each other out either way. Letters would probably be too risky communication other than "Let's meet up at....", so I assume they have seen a lot of each other during this time. 1500s: Something related to the Catholic Church and the Papacy (Rome?). (Unfilmed idea) My theory: Raphael/Crowley (Raffaello Sanzio da Urbino) works as painter in Rome from 1508 until his "death" in 1520. He was invited to Rome by Pope Julius II and was immediately commissioned to work on a series of frescoes for the Pope's private library in the Vatican Palace. Crowley can't enter consecrated spaces. Hilarity ensues. This would explain his conversation about helicopters (in the book) with Leonardo da Vinci. 1601: Hamlet (Globe Theatre, London) Aziraphale and Crowley meet inconspicuously as Shakespeare struggles with Hamlet (both actor and play), and Aziraphale agrees to do both his and Crowley's assignments in Edinburgh. 1650: Aziraphale does his first apology dance (unknown) Nothing more is known about this event. 1655: Agnes Nutter's book is published, and doesn't sell a single copy. 1656: Agnes Nutter is burned (Lancashire, England, 1656) After writing the Nice and Accurate Prophecies, she is burned by Pulsifer's ancestor. 1793: French Revolution (The Bastille, Paris) Aziraphale puts himself in harm's way by dressing like a nobleman while looking for crepes in revolutionary Paris, just so that Crowley will save him. 1800s: Aziraphale opens his bookshop. (Soho, London) I can't figure out when, it just says 19th century online. Crowley asks if Aziraphale wasn't supposed to open a bookshop when he saves him in the Bastille.
1827: The Resurrectionist (Edinburgh, October) Aziraphale and Crowley discuss morality, meet Elspeth and Wee Morag - and the body snatching doctor.
1827 - ????: Crowley sleeps or is in Hell We don't actually know long or exactly when, but in the book it's mentioned he only got up to go to the toilet once. Why?
1862: St. James’s Park, London Crowley is paranoid, Aziraphale won't give him holy water. 1862 - ????: Wild West meetup (Unfilmed idea) Neil Gaiman just had the idea, it wasn't filmed.
1928: Crowley buys the Bentley And he keeps it in tip-top shape until the Not-Apocalypse. 1933: Aziraphale gets his driving license (unknown location)
1941: WW2 Blitz (London) Church bombing, magic show, photo taken, shades of dark and light grey.
1967: Aziraphale gives Crowley holy water (Soho, London) ...And says Crowley goes too fast for him. He does it because Crowley is about to orchestrate the robbery of a church. One of the robbers is Witchfinder Sergeant Shadwell, who we meet later. He offers his 'army' to Crowley.
1980s: Crowley designs the M25 (Hell) No other demons understand the whole thing about constant, low-level, effortless evil.
2007: Three children are born in a hospital in Tadfield The old switch-a-roo.
2007 - later that night: Godfather meetup (Soho, ca 2009) They're drunk, talking about whale brains and agreeing to raise Warlock as nanny and gardener.
2012 - 2018: Raising Warlock (Winfield House, England) He's way too normal! 2018: Not-Apocalypse (Saturday, August 11th, Tadfield Airbase) Do I need to explain this? 2019 - 2023: Beelzebub and Gabriel start meeting each other. We see them meet in an American bar, a Russian café and in the Resurrectionist in Edinburgh. 2020: Lockdown (London) Aziraphale goes on about cake, Crowley wants to come by and watch him eat. Aziraphale chickens out.
2023: Jimbriel (Soho, London) A naked archangel with amnesia shows up on Aziraphale's doorstep. --- UPDATED AND IMPROVED
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superlunar-eclipse · 5 months
Text
🌑 ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━ ACROSS THE COUNTRY
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SUMMARY ➤ Dean and Sam, concerned about their missing father, approach their estranged elder sister Y/N, an FBI agent, for help. Despite initial resistance due to past grievances and her current job, Y/N eventually agrees to join them in their search, setting the stage for a journey filled with potential challenges and dangers.
WARNINGS ➤ injury’s, injured Y/N, stabbed wound (to the shoulder), small shard of glass on Y/N’s face and the back of their head, and slight arguing.
CHARACTERS ➤ Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Y/N Winchester, mentions of John Winchester, and Adam William (added character)
WORD COUNT ➤ 1,180 words
OTHER ➤ Y/N is a FBI agent, small mention of Y/N being 32 years old, set in season 1, episode 1.
AUTHOR’S NOTE ➤ first fanfic! hopefully dean and sam don’t act too OOC, but lmk if they do!
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"Dad hasn't been home in a few days."
Sam took a deep breath before responding, "So, he's working one of his usual overtime shifts on a 'Miller Time'. It's nothing to worry about. He's bound to stumble back in sooner or later."
Dean glanced down at the cold, hard ground, allowing his eyes to linger there for a moment before looking back up at Sam. His voice was full of concern as he said, "Dad’s on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days."
Sam’s expression remained stoic, giving away nothing of the worry that was slowly starting to creep in. Jess, who had been quietly observing the exchange, glanced up at him.
"Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside."
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"I mean, come on. You can't just break into my place in the middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you," Sam said, his voice echoing in the silence of the night as he followed Dean down the stairs.
"You're not hearing me, Sammy. Dad's missing. I'm not just asking you to hit the road with me. I need you to help me find him." He looked back at Sam, his eyes pleading for understanding.
"I- I don’t understand, why couldn’t you have called Y/N? Isn’t she an FBI agent or something like that?" Sam questioned, his hand reaching out to grab Dean’s shoulder in an attempt to halt his progress.
Dean sighed loudly, a sound that echoed throughout the quiet night. He bounced on the balls of his feet, a nervous habit he had whenever he was troubled. "Well I… kinda don’t know where she is…" he admitted shamefully.
Sam’s eyebrows furrowed, a clear sign of his confusion. "What do you mean you ‘don’t know where she is’?"
Dean pursed his lips and rubbed his hands together, his gaze dropping to the ground. "Well I don’t know her exact location but I know she’s somewhere in Washington DC or something like that!"
Sam scoffed in disbelief and shook his head. "That’s all the way across the country."
"Well did you want this to go quicker?" Dean shot back defensively.
Sam simply rolled his eyes at Dean.
"Look, are you coming with me or not?" Dean asked, his patience clearly running thin.
"I’m not." Sam said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"Why not?" Dean questioned, his frustration clear.
"I swore I was done hunting. For good."
"Come on. It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t all bad."
Dean starts heading down the stairs once again, with Sam quickly on his trail.
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"You know, in almost three years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing," Dean tried to reason, his voice softening.
Sam looks away and sighs, then looks back.
"All right. I'll go. I'll help you find the both of them."
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Y/N, a 32 year old FBI agent, sat in the back of the ambulance as the woman cleaned up her many cuts. Her shoulder had been stabbed by the unsub and her head was smashed into a sheet of glass.
"Alright, you're done." The woman finished cleaning her cuts, placing a bandage on her forehead and applying gauze tape to her wound.
Y/N smiled at the woman and hopped off the ambulance truck.
"Y/N!" someone shouted from the distance. She turned to see her great friend Adam, who was the first one to welcome her to the FBI.
She smiled softly as he gave her a comforting hug, "Ow, my shoulder." Her nose scrunched up in pain.
"Sorry," the corners of his mouth turned up as he let go of her.
Other agents of the FBI walked up to her, thanking her for her bravery. "Thank you for saving that girl's life."
"No problem." She gave them a comforting smile.
The agents walked away to discuss matters with other departments.
Y/N and Adam talked about the case for a little while, before Adam turned his attention to something behind her.
"Hey, do you know those people over there?" He asked.
She turned around to look at the people Adam was pointing at. She tilted her head to the side, squinting slightly as she tried to recognize them.
Why did they look so familiar?
Her face paled when she realized who they were.
"Uhm, yea- yeah I do, I’ll be right back," she stuttered, patting his shoulder reassuringly before she walked away.
"What are you guys doing here and how in the hell did you guys find me?" Y/N whispered-yelled at the two boys, her eyes wide with surprise.
"We need your help," Dean replied simply.
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and put her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, "Oh, so all of a sudden you both need me after what, three years of not talking to me?"
Dean, with a dramatic flair that was all too typical of him, let out an exaggerated sigh. "Listen-" he began, a note of desperation creeping into his voice.
But she cut him off, her frustration palpable. "Dean, please, I really don’t have time for this," she said, waving a hand dismissively.
Sam, practically silent until now, took a step forward. His eyes critically scanned over her face and body, noting the signs of recent distress. "What happened to your shoulder?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.
In response, she lifted a brow and shot him a sarcastic look. "Take a guess, Sam. I’m in the FBI," she said dryly.
He rolled his eyes at her retort. Typical Y/N, he thought, not for the first time.
Dean, who had been silent during their exchange, finally spoke. "Dad’s been missing for a few days, and we… we need you," he stated, his eyes narrowed and serious.
Her reaction was almost immediate. Her jaw tightened, her eyes darkened, her whole demeanor turned defensive. "And why would I want to find him?" she shot back, her voice icy.
He faltered, at a loss for words. He turned away, his gaze landing aimlessly on the nearby crime site.
Now it was Sam’s turn to speak up. He stepped forward, his eyes pleading. "Y/N, please, we really need you right now," he implored, giving her a puppy-dog look. It was a tactic he used to use all the time when he was younger to get what he wanted.
She looked away from him, her lips pursed, her face screwed up in thought. After a long pause, she finally voiced her question. "How- how long is this going to take?"
Dean was the one to answer. "Four days."
She sighed out loud, a wearied sound that echoed in the silence. "You do realize I have a real job, right?" she asked, a note of exasperation in her voice.
Dean rolled his eyes, a retort already forming on his lips. But before he could speak, Y/N interrupted him.
"Fine, I’ll go with you two," she said, her voice resigned.
Dean smiled lightly, relief flooding his features. "Thank you, Y/N."
And so, they walked together to Dean's car, unaware of the challenges and dangers that lay ahead of them.
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froggywritesstuff · 5 months
Text
yandere!boris pavlikovsky hc's
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ship/pairing: yandere!boris pavlikovsky x g/n!reader
fandom: the Goldfinch
request: @racheldreamsworld: Can you do a yandere boris Pavlikovsky from movie goldfinch headcanon?
warnings: yandere, unhealthy and toxic relationships, obsessive behaviour, stalking, mentions of cigarettes, pressuring into to doing drugs, emotional blackmail, mentions of addiction, mentions of suicide, guilt tripping, non consensual touching (not explicitly sexual), there's a lot going on so please let me know if I've missed any warnings
word count: 460
A/N: i do not in any way support yandere behaviour, please know that this writing is purely fictional, and should not ever be reenacted in real life
as soon as he saw you, he immediately became obsessed with you
though near the beginning of his obsession, he tries to be quiet about it
he follows you wherever you go
if you're eating lunch, he's sitting beside you
he walks you to your classes, silently bidding you farewell
when you ask him what his deal is, he nonchalantly introduces himself and claims to be your friend
he does not care how he gets it but he needs your attention
so he is definitely satisfied when you just stare at him with a confused expression and try to distance yourself from him while he walks beside you on your way home
speaking of which, once he finds your address, nothing is stopping him from stalking you
you're relieved when you find him not at school some days, unaware that he skips school to go to your house and look through all your things
you don't question it when you come home to one of two of your shirts on the floor, thinking it's because you were in a rush that morning
you are a little weirded out when said shirts and your pillow have a slight scent of cigarettes and something else you can't put your finger on
eventually you grow more and more paranoid as you find more and more things out of place or missing from your room
when you gather some courage, and ask Boris why he's so adamant on following you everywhere, you're more than surprised when he asks to be your boyfriend (though the way he words it makes you feel like you don't have a choice)
will threaten to kill himself if you try to reject him
like no hesitation, he thinks it's the only logical response
he guilt trips you a lot of the time 
you can't talk or hang out with your friends without hearing Boris getting pissed at you, mumbling about how you'll leave him, just like everyone else does
he’s always inviting you over to his house
meaning if you don't want an earful about how bad of a partner you're being by not wanting to spend time with your boyfriend, you hang out at his house a lot
he pressures you to try some of the drugs he has
he wants to get you addicted so you'll want to go to his house more and he can keep you from everyone else
and sometimes when he gets you high, you're much calmer around him, and he can be way more touchy with you, so that's always a plus
acts like you're the cure to all his problems when in reality his coping mechanisms and the way he acts around you are the cause of his deteriorating mental health
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scekrex · 3 months
Note
It's me, yes it's me! I know you were all waiting for me! :DD
Yes, yes, it's an another crack fic, yippeecayay, mfers 🤠 Adam and reader arguing about something, might be something stupid or something serious, obviously they still love each other but both of them are insanely stubborn so neither wants to admit they are wrong. The reader goes to cool off, he meets up with a friend and start to just vent his frustration to them when lo and behold, Adam shows up to... Well "apologise" in his own unique way and it's basically him just seeing the location where reader is (They're sharing their locations, Adam's heart cannot handle anymore stress with reader going missing even if for a few minutes), showing up with his badass axe guitar and strumming it, going "I love you bitch... I ain't ever gon' stop loving you... Biiitch", reader's friend just looks at him with the biggest "Really? You actually LOVE him?" and reader just looks back at them with the goofiest grin: "We'll, he's dumb and overly stupid, but he's my dumb and overly stupid man" shrugging his shoulders and goes to Adam to kiss him, just to then smack him and then kiss him again 👀
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Babes, I once again have to say that I love your crack prompts, at this point these r the air that keeps me alive bc holy fuck they make me laugh every fucking time.
Do you even
pairing: Adam x male!reader
warnings: language, fighting (not physically but verbally), slightly cracky
note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers
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“Adam, just shut the fuck up for a second, would you?” you exclaimed harshly as you massaged your temples in order to try and keep calm.
He had been ranting about his bitchy band mate who had ditched him last minute before an important gig and you had enough of it. Ever since the both of you had woken up in the morning all Adam had been talking about was ‘how fucking done he is with that bastard’ and ‘how fucking dare that whore to ditch him last minute because he was the fucking Adam and the fucking Adam wasn't someone you'd ditch to fuck some random - and ugly, his words not yours - bbl bitch'. “Just shut the fuck up for a couple seconds okay? I get it, that fucker ditched ya, it was shitty of him, but for the love of God, stop acting like a motherfucking child and get the fuck over it.”
The brunette's hands were on his hips as he shot you a venomous look, “Well, if you would care you wouldn't mind me bitching about something that meant a whole fucking lot to me.” You couldn't help the huff that escaped you as you closed the gap between the both of you, your index finger aggressively tapping his chest as you looked up at him. Because what the actual fuck? You cared, you cared a lot and usually you didn't mind it when he was bitching about something, but you've had a headache all day and Adam wasn't being helpful with his constant talking. You couldn't even bring yourself to feel sorry for snapping at him, you had told him that you weren't feeling well today and yet he had strictly ignored that just for his own benefit. “You know what? Fuck you, Adam. You can suck my fucking dick for saying that. I fucking care, okay? Any ordinary bitch would've left you by now but I fucking didn't because I love you, for heaven's sake. So quit the motherfucking attitude already,” there was truly no way for you to swallow all the anger that was seething inside of you and you really couldn't care less. “I’m out of here, fucking call me when you decided to quit acting like a goddamn manchild,” and with that you grabbed your phones and keys and rushed out the apartment.
Once the door was shut you broke down entirely. Yes, you and Adam had different options on some things, nothing major though, but fighting like that? That was a thing that had never happened before, not when you started dating and especially not after you married him. Fighting with Adam felt exhausting, you hated how your heart hurt - it almost felt like physical pain. So you did the only logical thing and unlocked your phone to call your best friend.
Arlo was someone you could always count on and that was proven one more time when the man had pulled up to the park in no time - that's where you had asked him to meet you - and he came in company of milkshakes. He handed you the cup as he sat down on the bench next to you. “So, you finally figured out that Adam is a huge bitch huh?” that earned Arlo a glare. Yes, you were mad at your husband, but that was no reason to insult the man you loved so dearly. “Quit it, I'm not breaking up with him because of one single fight,” you mumbled as you took a sip of your milkshake, realizing Arlo had managed to get you your favorite flavor. That brightened the mood at least a little. “Look Y/N, I'm all for love ‘n’ shit, but Adam, seriously? I mean you of all people should know how big his ego is and he just proved this by ignoring your well-being,” the blonde continued to rant about your husband and while Adam's ego was huge, his love for you was bigger.
He didn't let outsiders notice the ways he looked at you during gigs, he made it seem casual when his wing wrapped around your shoulder when you two walked through the streets like it was a thing people casually did - they didn't. Touching the wings of another angel, let alone use your wings to shield someone was a big deal due to the wings being hypersensitive. He always remembered what you liked and what you disliked, no matter what you were talking about. He knew and respected a lot of things when it came to you, things he didn't even tolerate when it came to others. He loved you and while for strangers eyes it wasn't visible, it was everything to you.
“Arlo, I didn't fucking call you so that you can tell me what a shitty husband I have, he loves me and I love him, he cares and just because we had one fight in six thousand years won't make me throw this relationship away so you either shut it or you leave, that's up to you,” you snapped at the blonde angel next to you and it seemed to do the job because Arlo closed his lips around the straw of his own milkshake and seemingly swallowed all the hatred he hold for Adam. You knew Arlo was trying to cheer you up, but he was doing a shitty job at that. Down talking your husband wasn't something you would let slide wordlessly. Because when Adam wanted, he was very much able and willing to serve you the world on a golden platter. He had risked a lot for you already and you were aware he would do it all again.
-
In the meantime Adam was still at your apartment. The second you had slammed the door shut behind you he realized how badly he had fucked up. There had always been different options on certain things, that was fine though. Usually you guys were able to talk it out and find a solution that made both of you happy, you never had a fucking fight in over six thousand years and now the fight had been intense enough to result in you leaving.
He had fucked up badly and he knew it.
But he couldn't just wait for you to come back. In the name of the almighty lord above, Adam wasn't even sure if you'd come home for the night. What if you were to stay with a friend until tomorrow, maybe even longer? No, he needed to solve this now. So he did the first thing that came to his mind and checked your location.
When you two had just started dating he had been losing you a lot, mainly because whenever you saw something that you liked or that you thought he might like you were running off to get that thing. So the two of you had agreed to constantly share your location with each other and ever since then that had never changed, these days it was a simple habit. The little icon on the map was pinned on the park. Good, that wasn't too far.
So the man grabbed his guitar and left to apologize.
-
Arlo’s eyes scanned the park for a moment, then he groaned quietly, “Speaking of the devil.” You turned your head to look over to where your blonde homie was looking at and couldn't help but roll your eyes.
Adam was walking straight towards you.
He had his guitar in his hand as he confidently walked across the park just to stop in front of the bench you and Arlo were sitting on. You weren't the only one annoyed by Adam's presence, the blonde angel next to you was just as pleased to see the leader of the exorcists as you were and he let Adam feel that they didn't want him there. “The fuck you think you're doing?” Arlo hissed at the brunette who was simply ignoring that they were even there. He sighed as you looked at you, something in his mimic told you he was sorry but you weren't able to see the guilt in his eyes due to his stupid mask. Fuck, he really couldn't leave that thing at home for just one day, could he?
Adam adjusted the guitar in his hands, made sure his fingers were placed on the right strings and then he started to play a kinda shitty sounding tune - knowing Adam it was shitty on purpose, there was no way he'd accidentally play bad. “I love you, bitch,” he spoke the words more than he sang them but it definitely made your lips twitch up in a grin. Arlo shot you a critical look, they were having none of it. “I ain't ever gon’ stop loving you,” there was a pause, then he finished, “Bitch.”
And that made you full on chuckle, the glimpse of hope that was suddenly visible through Adam's expression showed you that he knew he had fucked up, that he was sorry. And maybe he would apologize properly once the two of you were back at your apartment. “You’re not gonna simply forgive him with that sad excuse of an apology, right?” Arlo asked in shock as you got up and took a step forward to be able to wrap your arms around the first man's waist. “You ain't ever gonna stop loving me, huh?” you asked teasingly as your finger poked him in his side which made him flinch a little. “Dude, Y/N, he fucking overstepped boundaries and you just gonna forget and forgive because he pulled out his shitty guitar and played two chords?” Arlo complained and stepped up to the both of you, they seemed genuinely furious about it. “The fuck’s your problem man, this ain't your fight, this is our thing to deal with,” the brunette growled at them but they didn't care. To be honest, they never cared about anything Adam said or did to them, no matter if it was something positive or negative. “You’re seriously telling me you love that guy?”
You weren't giving Arlo the satisfaction of attention, instead you pulled Adam's mask up so that the LED face was resting on top of his head and the horns of it were near his neck. “I want a proper apology once we get home, if I don't get that, I'll find some other place to crash at for the night, am I clear?” you explained how it would go, all the playfulness was gone, there wasn't a smirk on your lips anymore and your eyes told Adam that you were serious about it, “And then I'd like to talk it out so that we can find a solution in case that shit should ever happen again.” The leader of the exorcists was quick to nod, followed by a loud and clear, “Yes, sir.” And for the moment that was enough. Enough to lean in and kiss him. Adam melted against your lips immediately, a small moan managed to slip past his lips. But the kiss ended as abrupt as it had started and Adam felt your hand on the back of his head, the mask caught most of the hit but he still felt it, “You fucking idiot.” That made said idiot grin one of his stupidly cocky grins, “Maybe, but at least I'm your idiot.” This time it was him who started the kiss, his wing quickly came up to block the view for Arlo, who was watching the two of you a little too intensive for Adam's liking.
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year
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Adam’s deepest desire was to belong, find his purpose and hope that everything would make sense when he did.
And for every time he thought he found it, he felt as though something wasn’t right, like he just didn’t fit into his place on the puzzle and not before long he was back to being lost amidst the chaos he was ill equipped to adapt in. Not once was he ever allowed to act upon himself, always acting on the behalf of the orders given to him because that’s what he thought the purpose of his existence was, what was expected of him.
However you came along and made him rethink what constitutes a purpose and what it means to belong.
‘To belong is to find people who aren’t going to orders you about, expecting you to complete them with swift discrepancy and to a degree where it’s almost unattainable, only to get punished or threatened when it all goes awry. No. To belong is to find people who who song give fuck if you mess up because you’ll clean the mess together, patch each other up when your injured or even willing enough to take the blame when a prank goes a step too far.’ You laugh softly at that last part as your face softens, reminiscing the good times, tightening your hold on the blanket you had draped over your shoulders.
You looked so beautiful when your mind was adrift the sea of memories, Adam found as hung onto your every word as though it was gospel or more akin to a child listening to a story their parents made up to get them in going to sleep faster; only to end up telling a thousand more stories due to their persistence to know how the story ends.
In this moment Adam looked at you as though you were the most perfect being who could do nothing wrong. Sure he was aware that the probability of obtaining perfection was unobtainable but if there was anyone closest to it, it would have to be you. He felt a pull towards you like no other and he couldn’t help but think that this was the belonging that you were talking about; He didn’t know what else it could be other then some part of him telling him that in finding where he belonged, finding his purpose, he had to remain by your side in doing so. And yet what Adam found even more stranger was the fact he couldn’t find in himself to fight against it because being sat beside you as you both looked up to the stars that warmly welcomed you as they did every night. It felt right. It felt as though he finally found where his missing puzzle piece was meant to slot into.
‘What if I don’t find where it is that I’m meant to belong in time?’ Adam asked.
‘Finding where you belong, where you fit in the narrative? It’s not a race my golden friend.’ You reassured him, shrugging off some of the blanket from your shoulders so you could throw it over his own. Adam’s brows furrowed in confusion as he looked back to you. ‘I’m not cold, therefore you did not need to share your hearing device with me.’
You almost felt like bursting out into laughter at his befuddlement but you managed to hold it in long enough to explain yourself. ‘First off, this ‘heating device’ is called a blanket and secondly i felt greedy in hogging the blanket all to myself and decided to share it with you.’
Adam let’s this sink in and before long he felt back into a comfortable state and looked back up at the stars with a small smile and a understanding look within his eyes that made him look a lot wiser, and all he said was. ‘I think I understand now.’
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filmmarvel · 9 months
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Sex Education Season 4 Review
Unfortunately it wasn’t as good as the others. It’s less that it was bad or that I didn’t enjoy it, and more that it sort of failed in its duties as a finale. I really liked the finale, it wasn’t until I finished it that I was left like… that’s it?
Starting with the Pros: I’m glad they had the sense to end it here. This season has gotten hated on pretty hard so far, which makes sense, but isn’t quite deserved. Even though it wasn’t as good as it COULD’VE been, it was still good! In particular, Aimee, Eric, and Adam had wonderful and satisfying arcs which I found quite compelling and felt like a lovely send off to each of their characters. Maeve’s ending, despite being a point of controversy, was fitting. She had a difficult but moving season, and her destiny was always to be a writer. As disappointing as it is that she doesn’t end up with Otis, I thought the writers justified it quite well. It would’ve simply felt wrong for her to stay back in Moordale just for Otis. She was always going to get out.
This brings me to the Cons. I have to say, my biggest disappointment with this season has to be Otis himself. Being the lead character, I really wish they would’ve chosen a more personal storyline with more depth to it to send off his character. Instead, they had him acting like a child the whole season. He’s the primary character and yet he has the least interesting, least sympathetic, least moving storyline. It was all about his relationships with Maeve, Ruby, and Eric, and his competition with O. Nothing really about him. They didn’t give enough closure as to how his future looks- he’s no longer the school sex therapist, which is disappointing. He agreed to think about working with O, but that’s all, and that isn’t the most satisfying conclusion. They left him in a very nondescript place. Additionally, many former cast members weren’t in this season. As a result, I felt that there were a number of missed opportunities. My other big complaint is, predictably, the change in setting and new cast of characters. I really didn’t love the new school. I don’t think I need to elaborate on that too much, it was just kind of over the top in a way that felt misplaced and unrealistic. As for the new characters, most of them weren’t bad, they were just unnecessary. The one character I did have an issue with was O, who was a rather grating presence. Which I don’t think was something all that good for a finale. I didn’t find her character at all interesting or sympathetic. She was really annoying, and didn’t grow on me at all over the course of the season.
To sum things up, I wish the writers had just focused on the characters they had already. The new characters weren’t as interesting (naturally), and I thought the season could’ve benefitted from more of a personal journey for the characters we already know and love- such as Otis, Jackson, Ruby, or Viv. When a show ends, I always really like to have some closure on where each of the characters are headed in the future, such as new passions, future relationships, careers, etc. While again, they did a lovely job with this with a few characters, there were a lot of characters who just left me unsatisfied (namely the aforementioned 4). I enjoyed the ending, but it left me feeling like a lot of precious time was wasted with new characters and misplaced storylines. It didn’t feel as though the writers quite understood how important this season was, and failed to treat certain characters with the care they deserved.
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Could I request “accidently sitting on their face” but instead of twst characters, could it be the Overlord floor guardians with a SB! Reader?
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Accidentally Sitting on Their Face | Yandere Overlord
Whether as a fellow Supreme Being and especially as Flower of Nazarick everyone trips every now and again. It’s only a matter of who’s doing the tripping and into what. With a generally soft body and a human behind all of it, it’s up to you to play it off as a mistake or a highly calculated move as a higher being. Too bad the Floor Guardians would never care:
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Demiurge 
It probably happens during training 
As the flower of Nazarick, you’re powers are truly limitless but getting a grasp on what you can do is what Ainz put Demiurge in charge of
“Alright (Y/n)-sama sprout wings that look like mine and go as high as you can.”
“Okay got it! Whoooooo!”
“Don’t go too far up otherwise you’ll hit the–”
BANG 
Crack
You weren’t outside
You were on the training grounds of the sixth floor 
and you've just broken and banged into the roof of the floor
Momentarily stunned you’re on your way to the ground
You’re on the level of Ainz you won’t be hurt but Demiurge still prepares to catch you
“Oooh! Oh no Demiurge are you okay?! Wait where’d you go?”
He’ll wait for you to notice 
Remaining still as a plank as you get up embarrassed
When he does get up he’ll bow his head 
“Excuse me. (Y/n)-sama.”
He teleports to his floor
Before practically destroying the place with his tale 
As he morphs into no specific monster
His servants are horrified but when the thrashing tail of his stills 
There’s a wide smile on his blushing face
He’ll return to train you and act as though nothing has happened
But for the next two weeks, his tail will randomly thrash around in trickling excitement
A Supreme Being touched him 
A Supreme Being sat on him
A Supreme Being sat on his face
Shaltear has nothing on him
“Shall we continue (Y/n)? As your designated instructor I will let nothing impede your blossoming as a true ruler of Nazarick,”
“You’re…not embarrassed at all?”
“Never. Any contact especially of something so intimate is a gift in and of itself.”
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Albedo 
Shadowing her when Ainz says to becomes a common routine
helping her as much as you can though she deems most tasks unworthy of you
You learn to seek her guidance
To follow after her 
To ask her what’s the right thing to do
while Ainz is adamant about correcting her more violent or overprotective lessons there are many he misses
“Uhm A-Albedo I don’t think this is umm a normal thing.”
“(Y/n)-Sama this is for your own good! Learning to punish your subordinates for the filth that comes from their lips! Like that blood-sucking trollop!”
“B-b-b-but Shaltear betrayed all of Nazarick and attacked Ainz.”
“Remember this, my Supreme Being! Ainz has warned us all not to underestimate humans. Yet I’ve insulted them and in front of you when you asked that I wouldn’t! That is worth of punishment!”
“Uh okay but only for a little while…”
“YES! THANK YOU MY FLOWER!”
You’re slow about it 
Too slow in Albedo’s opinion 
 she’ll grab your thighs and hold you in place
She’ll sniff and drool as she bucks her hips into the air
Should anyone walk in they’ll get a knife between the eyes
When she’s done climaxed
She’ll let you stand up and drink in your embarrassed expressions
“T-thank you for the punishment, (Y/n)-sama!” 
“I-I’m going to my room!”
“I’ll join you~shortly!”
If Ainz gets any wind of it she’ll claim that it was all a lesson on properly punishing your subjects
And all you got was flustered from using force
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Shaltear
During a training session, it happens 
Filling in for Demiurge she trains you on her fighting style 
Encouraging you to launch yourself in her direction for practice
But by using too much power you overshot
So instead of front ways tackling Shaltear
Your butt is on her face 
“Oh Shaltear I’m s-sorry..?”
You’re slow to speak as you hear her moan
You wonder if it’s from pain 
So you’ll get up slowly worried that she may be hurt
And her nose does appear to be broken as a blood streak trickles down her blushing cheeks
She’s shaking in excitement 
Jolting in excitement as she hugs herself moaning about something you can’t choose not to pick up
She’ll be like that for a little while 
So you should come back after a little while
Maybe then she’ll be able to form a coherent sentence that isn’t your name
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fanofstuff02 · 18 days
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Adam fell to his bed with a thud, as if he got shot. His whole body hurt, he wanted to knock himself out so badly. Angel did mention his body was an absolute shitshow in his first day too, but he didn’t expect it to be this bad. He could feel his eyes whimpering.
His mind was nothing better. He couldn’t help but have it fuzzy alI day. It was a goddamn confusing situation. And shocking.
One night, you’re out to get wild with two sinners and two winners, and when you wake up, you’re seeing those pearly gates. Enough to turn someone’s world upside down. It wasn’t in a bad way obviously, just drained his energy.
He groaned and turned to face the ceiling, placing both his hands on his stomach. He hoped he could drift off to sleep easily, he needed it.
As time passed by, his tiredness was defeated by a stronger feeling. That one feeling he tried to keep buried deep inside all day so it wouldn’t mess his “big achievement”
Loneliness.
He didn’t knew how long he’d been staring at it, but suddenly the plain white upper-wall was hurtful to look at. He teared his gaze biting his lip, subconsciously hugging himself with his wings.
He was happy, right? Of course he was. Why wouldn’t he be? This was his biggest goal for years. -And this was Heaven for fuck’s sake! You could have everything!
Everything…
Well why are you feeling hollow then asshole? Don’t act like you don’t know the real reason.
“Shut the fuck up.” His voice echoed in the suddenly emtpy room. “It’s nothing and you know it. Winners can visit Hell, remember that? Angel and Pentious just came from there. And Sera never had problems with them talking to Lucifer! It’ll be fine! I can see him. It’s no big deal. I just… Have to wait a little. Yeah. Yep. It’s probably because I’m new here.” He sat down in his bed.
But no words were enough to shut that shitty voice off. Seriously, why was he worrying about this that much? It was Lucifer! He’d find a way even if he wasn’t allowed. Which… Was sometimes trouble-bringing but still cute.
Cheap excuses, still lying to yourself, Adam. Why didn’t he told you about this happening then? He would if he knew you two would be able to keep in touch.
He shook his head and went for the light switch. He didn’t want an answer to that. No need.
He wanted to shut his conscious off so bad that he almost missed the small letter on his nightstand. It was red with golden accents, clearly a hellmade one. He took it in his hands and began eyeing it with a small curiosity. Then it hit him.
Hellmade.
He gripped it, almost ripping it off as he desperately wanted to reach the letter inside. Dammit this would be much easier if he still had his claws!
When he finally got rid of that goddamn paper, he quickly began reading. Finally some real explanation.
He smiled briefly when he recognized the handwriting.
To my dear Adam,
As I write this, Angel’s standing at my side. He knows this is a love letter but he’s still sneaking peeks. Honestly, I’m still wondering what Husk sees in him.
That said, he did gave me his word that he’d deliver this letter to you. He says he owes me, for the time I took care of that mothman for him.
You must be really, really confused right now. I’m sorry that I didn’t told you about this happening, I was afraid you’d hate me because I knew it for weeks now. Please forgive me. It was just… Hard to let go of the best thing in my life. But I’m not regretting it.
I can’t write much, heck it would cost me lots of pages if I tried to, but I want you to know I’m so glad you made it, little lamb. I bet you look awesome as an angel.
Love you,
Lucifer.
————
Yeaaaahhhh something from the middle of my recent work. Just gonna drop it here since it’s nowhere near done.
Is this good? I hope so.
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