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fraugwinska · 2 days

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What about the reader found and old radio, they thought the radio was broken but it's not, it's just antique.. when they play it at night time alastor broadcast was heard first they feel something is odd.. but they love to listen to his voice, heck they even like talking to each other, because of this encounter alastor talk about it to rosie, she was happy hearing alastor telling her stories but she feel odd when alastor mention that the person he talks to is a human, Rosie giving him advice to not fall for human because they're different species, and it will make him weak etc.

Alastor feel guilty and agree with rosie advice so he's stop contacting the reader from the radio, he thinks that the reader will be fine but no the reader take it personally.. they thought alastor don't want to talk to them anymore.. it drive them mad and lead to suicide..

So yeah angst :D

Oh Anon. What have you done. I cried while I wrote that - it took two very good friends of mine to encourage me to post it (Thanks to @macabr3-barbi3 and @mysterypotatoink). But I think it's tragic and beautiful, and honestly - I'm kinda proud of it! TW: Psychological Trauma, descend into madness, loss of self care and suicide - please take care of yourself and do not read if you aren't comfortable with any of the mentioned! MINORS DNI Here we go.

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Leap of Faith

You carried in the last box from you banged-up minivan. The old thing barely made it to your new home. A little cabin in the outskirts of New Orleans, a little off the grid and surrounded by the peaceful and whirring bayous of Louisiana.

A fixer-upper, just like yourself.

The online auction had intrigued you the second you found it, the photos were a bit blurry and you knew it was a risk to buy a place you've never set foot in, but something in you called you to get it. The price you paid was laughable, barely making a dent in your savings. Moving states sounded scary and impossible, but you felt oddly calm about it. You didn't have a lot of stuff to move anyway. After all, you only lived with your late grandmother, and she never really cared for material things. Your parents left you at her doorstep, never to be seen again.

Caring for her in her last, sickness-ridden years had been a no-brainer - it felt like nothing in comparison to all she had done for you - but it also had been a bit lonely. You had your friends, if you could even call them that, but you rarely saw them - guiding your nan through the last months of her life had been demanding and time-consuming. It had left you exhausted and emotionally unavailable, and after a while, calls and texts ceased, until it was just you and her. You felt lost, as if the world was slowly pulling away from you.

When she finally died, peacefully in her sleep, you felt sad, relieved and drained. Detached from the city you lived in. Lost. So you decided to sell what little you inherited, except for a few sentimental mementos, and move away from it all. To start a new life, a happier one, finally one that was truly your own.

You took the final box inside, setting it on the coffee table and wiped the sweat from your brow. You looked around the little cabin: The roof had some spots that needed a patch, and the wood floors were a bit warped, but it was all yours. No more having to share anything with anyone.

The cabin came furnished, a lot of the stuff was old, but still usable. You figured that would change once you settled in and had a vision of what you wanted and needed to buy. The thought of thinking about no one but yourself made you nervous. But a little excited, too.

The old furniture would do for the moment, but there was a particular piece that caught your eye: an old, vintage cathedral radio, sitting nestled in between a cracked wooden box and a tarnished, bronze candle holder in a bookcase that was a bit out of place in the tiny space. With a tilted head, you stepped closer to inspect it, drawn to it by it's unique character and beauty. It looked as well-loved as it looked well-used, the mahogany a bit scuffed, the knobs a little worn from years of being turned. But there were golden details etched into the front, and you traced them lightly with a finger, strangely touched and intrigued.

You were certain the old thing didn't work, but when you plugged it into the nearby socket, static erupted from the speakers, making you jump back. You had to smile, though. Tonight, you wouldn't be alone. You'd have this little device and a little music for good company.

***

"I'm home!" you announced to no one in particular, as you closed the door behind you, your hands full with overfilled grocery bags full of necessities, waiting to fill your empty cabinets.

The day had been hot, but a welcome breeze of the impending night break cooled the inside of your little cabin a bit. With a quiet grunt you set the paper bags down at the small kitchenette. Your groceries were quickly dispersed, and you put on an apron you saved from your grandmother as you got started on dinner.

You hummed as you cut vegetables and boiled water. It had been a long time since you had cooked, really cooked, your nan wasn't much for eating and had no problem living off of simple soups and toast. When you opened your fridge to get some butter, your glance fell onto the radio.

A little music would be nice, you decided, and you walked over, cleaning your hands on the red, frilly cloth around your waist before you turned the dial. The soft sound of static made you hum in contempt - yup. Still works. A little turn to the left, and the room was filled with a soft jazzy tune, the melody a bit grainy, but you didn't mind that at all. You returned to the stove, swaying your hips to the beat as you worked. The music made you feel at ease, and for a moment, the world seemed to be just right.

Just as the onions began to brown in the pan, the song faded out to a voice. You turned your head to the radio, intrigued by the unusual, eccentric accent of the host. It reminded you of the old, vintage films and recordings your grandmother had been fond of - wasn't it called 'transatlantic'?. Whatever it was, it made you smile.

"Now wasn't that a kick in the head, dearest listener? I sure hope you enjoyed the little musical interlude, but it's time to return to the real show! As usual, my name is Alastor, and you are listening to the best jazz, blues and swing music that Hell has to offer!"

You blinked, a little puzzled and yet amused. "Sure is hot as hell today, strange man in the radio.", you mumbled, chuckling as you stirred the bell peppers under the caramelized onions.

"Today we have a very special guest joining my humble broadcast, it seems. Pleasure to meet you, darling, quite the pleasure!"

"Oh who? Me?" you asked, looking theatrically over your shoulder with batted lashes, shaking your head over your own silliness. You weren't used to talking out loud to yourself, or even really thinking out loud. You were always alone, after all, but the little pretend-play was fun. You laughed a bit, waiting for the host's guest to speak.

"Of course you, little dove. Who else would I mean?"

You gasped, and nearly dropped the spoon as you whipped around, eyes glued to the humming, orange glow of the radio in the dim darkness of your living room.

"What's that? You're surprised, my dear? Don't worry, you're not the only one! This is a first for me, too. Never had a human join my program. I must say, I'm quite intrigued! Tell me, what is your name?"

Your eyes grew wide, and the hairs at the back of your neck stood up. You took a hesitant step backwards and hit the hot stove, making you curse under your breath. Was the heat finally getting to you?

"Don't be shy now, darling. I'm not gonna hurt you, cross my lil' old, blackened heart."

"I-I'm..." you began, swallowing as your fingers tightened around the wooden spoon. "My name is..."

"Yes?"

"I'm... crazy.", you mumbled, rubbing a hand over your face and chuckling a bit. You were just going insane, that's all. Must be the stress, combined with the intense heat. And lack of a companion, a tiny voice reminded you. Yes. Must be.

"Hello crazy, this is Alastor." The host laughed, together with a canned audience.

"Alastor...", you repeated, realization settling in - this wasn't a joke, or a trick of your mind.

"At your service, my dear.", the voice cooed. "Now, I believe you still owe me your name..."

***

You weren't crazy.

Or if you were, you didn't mind. Not with Alastor by your side - or, to be exact, in the radio on your bookcase.

After two weeks of ignoring the cursed radio after unplugging it in a wave of panic on your first night, your morbid curiosity got the better of you. You plugged it back in, and turned on the dial. Just once, you told yourself, then never ever again.

And that's how the two of you got in contact with each other once more. Alastor was as chipper as the first time you heard him, and after a bit of back-and-forth, he promised once again not to harm you, and you shared your name with him. The rest was history. He was very pleasant company. For a demon from hell.

You wouldn't classify the conversations you had with him as a real friendship in the beginning, but you did talk. Occasionally. Mostly in the evenings, when you cooked dinner: He'd ask you about your day and would pry eagerly for a little bit of gossip or new information about the modern New Orleans. When he let it slip that he lived in this very cabin in the 1920's, you weren't stopping with questions about what it was like back in his days, which he, in return, answered generously and enthusiastically.

The first few times he would try to coerce you into making a deal for your soul, casually sprinkling the offer into his small talk, but with enough blunt refusals and a few more days of radio silence (pun intended), he dropped the topic and seemed content on just talking. You, in return, found yourself relaxing into his charming company, your brain happily engaged with trying to wrap your head around him, or better, you tried to come to terms with it.

Weeks passed, and turning the radio on in the evenings became less of an occasional lapse of judgment but more of a routine you were looking forward to. You could tell the Alastor felt the same, his banter became less tense and acted, and a little more genuine. It made your heart swell in happiness, that someone out there seemed to appreciate your company – even if that someone wasn't human. Apprehension became amusement, and fascination became friendship. Oddly enough, you found common grounds in a lot of things: A love for cooking and good music. Preferring books over films. Red wine over white. A shared aversion of vulgarity, and appreciation for good manners.

Your nights were cut shorter and shorter, you would spend hours chatting on and on, until the deep darkness of night disappeared into a shade of blue on the horizon. Neither of you minded, at least that was what you thought. Alastor never ended the conversations with you. Either you had to say your goodbyes, or you would just fall asleep after hours of talking on your couch, and awake with a pained back to a shut-off radio. Then, after you'd realize that you would have a whole day ahead of you without hearing his voice, the loss would make your chest ache.

Two months into the 'thing', which was still a strange concept you could barely comprehend, the truth of the matter dawned on you: You liked him. Not just because he was a surprisingly amicable voice coming out of your vintage radio, a lively constant in the uneventful life you had made for yourself in Louisiana - he had become important to you, irreplaceable, even. An essential element to your life. You couldn't imagine how you'd gone so long without him, and yet, here you were, lost without him, scrambling through the hours until you could talk to him once more.

"Something on your mind, darling? You're awfully quiet today."

You held your fork and knife still above the salmon you had just been about to eat. It was the first meal of the evening in a long time where you weren't spending the entirety of the preparation time speaking to him, lost in thought about your blossoming feelings. He had gotten excellent at reading you like an open book - you should've gotten used to it after a couple of weeks of him catching on to every little change in your demeanor and knowing just what to say, when you were feeling happy, upset or nervous.

"Oh, um... no. It's nothing Al. Work had me in a wringer today."

"Is it your co-worker Susan again?" You could basically hear his eyes rolling, making you chuckle. "That name must be cursed, every single soul with that name is a menacing pain."

"Maybe,", you muttered, nibbling on a piece of the roasted fish. "This one is mostly just an ornery old bitch."

"Taking the words right out of my mouth, dear." he laughed.

There's was a comfortable pause, with just a gentle background noise of his ever-playing static and an easy, melodic tune coming from his program.

"Is that really all that preoccupies that pretty little head of yours?"

You blushed, picking at the food with your fork. "Bold for a guy who's never seen me to assume my head is pretty."

The radio crackled with pops and feedback. "Bold to assume I can't see you whenever I want, little dove." he said, his voice strangely deeper, tinged with something you didn't catch at the shock of his words.

"You... what?"

"And I can most assure you,", he purred out of the speakers, "pretty is a well fitting word to describe you."

He hummed in approval when your cheeks gained color, as if he knew his comment threw you off guard and made you turn a lovely shade of pink, but it didn't make it any less enticing.

***

"Alastor, if I didn't know better, I would say you have become smitten with this mysterious gal you're blabbing on and about."

Rosie giggled, hitting his shoulder in a playful, friendly swipe. "When will I meet her? Come on now, you can't hide her forever. Or are you afraid she'll like me better?"

She laughed, and Alastor forced a toothy grin. His long time friend was the only one he talked about you with, and he knew she was intrigued whenever she could smell a blooming dalliance, especially with a notoriously abstinent bachelor like himself. Normally, he would laugh at that thought with a healthy dose of mockery, but he found himself to be less and less aversed at the thought - if it would be you. Impossible, of course.

"Nonsense, Rosie dear, nonsense,", he chuckled, taking a large sip from his coffee cup, a heavy hand bringing up a plate stacked with finger sandwiches. "And I'm afraid you won't meet her for a long time, maybe never. Humans seldom traverse to hell in their lifetime, and who knows if the little darling will take on the trip downstairs?"

Rosie coughed in her tea, her blackened eyes wide in shock. "Human? It's a human girl you've been courting here? Oh, Alastor, you old fool."

Alastor scrunched his nose, "Talking, Rosie, talking is all we do. And yes, she's a human. I don't see the quandary in that. It's just a little fun." "Well,", she huffed with a small, thoughtful frown. "I would've hoped for a little more sense in you." The tall demonesse set down her teacup with nimble fingers. "You may not call it courting, but if it quacks like a duck, it's a duck, love." Rosie ignored the indignant look Alastor gave her. "You know as well as I do that such a connection is dangerous to entertain. Humans are fragile and fragile things tend to break. And when they do, the owner mostly follows. You need to break this connection off."

Rosie gave him a sad look as his ears flattened against his head. She would've been more than happy for her oldest and dearest friend to have a partner on his side, someone good and honest who really cared about him, maybe loved him even, as unlovable as he was. But she had to protect him from the silly idea of possibly falling for a living, breathing and supposedly untarnished soul, and the heartbreak that would surely follow. "Don't make the mistake of breaking your heart, dear friend." she smiled, a tint of melancholy hidden in the red of her lips.

"I think it's far too late for that."

She offered a handkerchief, but Alastor waved her off, his smile more faint and close to a frown than she's ever seen.

***

The first day where nothing but static noise came out of the radio, you were irritated but just thought: 'Maybe Alastor has something to do'.

The second day of static you grew concerned. 'What if something happened to Alastor? Was he okay?'.

On the third day, you were panicked. 'Maybe he doesn't want to talk to you anymore! Maybe he met someone in hell, someone that he could talk to whenever he wanted and not through an old, dusty radio?'.

"Please talk to me.", you whispered into the empty room. Your knees were pulled to your chest, and you sat on your couch, eyes fixed on the radio in the bookcase. Your eyes stung with the tears threatening to spill. "Please, Al. I miss you." You shook your head, chuckling sadly. It had only been 3 days, but they'd felt like an eternity. The world had seemed silent without Alastor's constant chatter.

When night fell for the fourth day, you were half asleep, eyes red and burning and tears still staining your cheeks. You talked for hours into the void of your house, the radio now moved to sit in front of you on the coffee table, growing more and more desperate as hours passed. Talking faded into pleading, and pleading into begging.

"Please, I'm sorry, if I did something wrong, I'm sorry...", you mumbled into the wooden furnishing, resting your cheek against the top of the machine, eyes slipping shut with fatigue and defeat. A dry sob slipped past your trembling lips, as your hands desperately grabbed the sides of the antique device.

"Alastor please, don't leave me alone here...", you whispered with the last of your strength, before your body succumbed to your exhaustion, your unconscious mind welcomed the darkness.

If you had stayed awake for just a moment more, you would've, maybe, heard the faint shuddering breath beyond the static rumble. But you didn't. So you had no chance at knowing that, Alastor, listening to every word, saw and heard you at your weakest, and all it did to him was stir the embers and give the blaze an opening for the flames of his anger at fate to rage.

Work had called, again. Susan of all people. Threats were made - either come back to work, or don't come back at all. You smashed your phone. It was useless anyway. What was the point without...

Alastor wasn't here, hadn't answered for seven days now. And you had spent the whole time talking, begging him to show himself, just show himself and tell you what you did wrong, just talk to you one last time and then you'd stop, if that was what he wanted. You became obsessed with the orange light of the illuminated screen, imagining the flickers were maybe signs from him.

You stopped eating, stopped drinking, stopped almost anything, you just sat, in front of the radio, unmoving and unwilling to miss the smallest sign of his return.

Every single minute stretched into agony, and every breath that left your lips made a fresh tear roll down your paling cheeks, until your body couldn't produce them anymore. Then, you cried wordless whimpers and moans, even started praying to an unknown entity.

It wasn't as if Alastor owed you anything. It's not as though you thought the two of you were anything other than two kindred souls, one human, one demon, talking to each other. As a result, it wasn't like you had the right to anything from him. It was strange to consider the connection the two of you shared: Something more than acquaintances, something closer than friends, and yet never fully crossing the line beyond it. The unpenetrable boundary dividing life and death in between.

Your eyes fell on a large, old crucifix on your wall, staring back at you with pity.

For the first time in days, you left the sofa, took it from the wall and burned it on your gas stove, watching the face of the nailed figurine slowly melt in the fire.

***

It had been eight days of excruciating, one-sided silence.

Eight days Alastor cursed his cowardice as he sat, red eyed with claws digging into his scalp, as he listened to you plead for him to talk - To answer. To do anything. Anything, but leave you alone, he heard, as if the words were spoken right in his ear.

Eight days of watching you slowly detriment from the eyes of the shadows he was able to manifest above, tugging on the very fabric of the world to move you, to keep your mind from going where it shouldn't go.

He kept telling himself it was for the better. His shadows murmured persistent reminders that he should find entertainment in your growing lunacy. He was the radio demon, after all. He shouldn't care if this wisp of a human were to perish, should laugh at your wails of agony and despair.

But Alastor never felt less like laughing. Your dried sobs and pained apologies for things you never did wrong in the first place filled his head, taunting and gnawing on him with feelings he thought he was unable to feel: Guilt and Regret.

It was as Rosie had predicted - he was becoming weak. But weakness was something that should be avoided. Had to be. He knew. Being weak, being feeble, would make him vulnerable, make him into the prey his cruel from already portrayed to the world he had to inherit. He couldn't allow it. Couldn't let his feelings for you bring him down to the levels of the sinners in hell he would tear apart and laugh while he did it.

That's why he stayed silent. Endured it, all of it, every word, cry and plea. Stayed invisible and silent, waiting for you to move on, forget him, shut off and leave the radio, never to turn the dial again. For your sake and his.

When the connection broke, on that eight day, Alastor could feel your resignation, your peace with which your pale hands gripped the electrical cord at it's base to pull. And he was suddenly filled with the awareness of something horrible, like a premonition. It set his already battered, aching heart in an ice cold grasp of dread.

His room exploded in green light as he expanded into his full demonic form, his limbs threatening to pull and burst at the stitches and his smile splitting his face almost entirely in half. He had to reach out, had to reform the connection to the radio one last time, even though nearly impossible.

You were about to do something he would never be able to forgive himself for.

***

Your car broke down just where it needed to. You took the radio out of the trunk, knocking the hood two times for a goodbye, the key safely in the ignition. Maybe some other poor soul would find and repair it, make happier memories with it.

You clutched the wooden device closer and started to walk. Indigo blue faded into black as you looked up to the sky that was sprinkled with glowing, shimmering silver dust, stars blinking in the unimaginable distance. There, but out of reach. Just like him. Your dry sob stung in your throat, but you didn't really feel the pain. Your eyes were fixed on the path to your final destination, right in front of you.

The Crescent City Connection Bridge was mostly abandoned by traffic at this time of night and provided just enough covered spaces to hide you from some foolish saviors eyes.

You didn't need to be saved.

You didn't want to be saved.

Because you were about to save yourself.

There was nothing waiting for you in the other direction than the one you were going. So, with slow but steady steps, you walked towards the middle of the bridge, settling on a place next to a metal pillar and looked over the railing onto the shimmering waters of the Mississippi River.

Alastor had told you about the river, how he loved to watch the steam boats floating on it from the radio station where he worked at when he was alive. The station was long gone, you didn't even find out where it had been in the first place, but you liked to imagine that you were looking at the same scenery now that he had been looking at when he peered out of his booth in his radio tower. It made you smile through the tears... You were glad the end was somehow connected to him, even if it was most likely just your naive imagination.

It felt like the device in your arms was emitting static energy, prickling over your arms, hands and fingers as you caressed the mahogany wood gently, feeling as though the radio was shaking in your hands, trying to pull you back from the fenced ledge.

A quiet sob escaped your lips, turning into a giggle and into hysterical laughter. You sat down between the railing, and hugged the radio close, trying to breathe as you closed your eyes, resting your temple on the worn, warm wood.

"It'll be okay, Al.", you said quietly, your voice unnaturally hoarse and rough from lack of use and dehydration. "I'm coming. I'm coming to you.”

With one arm around the radio, holding it tight against your chest, you turned to stand on shaky legs, gripping the railing with one arm and, with one final glance at the stars above you you smiled. You heard sirens in the distance, and some people shouting from a sparkling streamliner passing under the bridge. Time was running short, so you didn't wait to put first one foot over the fence, then the other, taking a deep breath.

"I guess doves were always meant to fly."

And, with that, your body twisted, turned and leaped, falling as the light on the radio, firmly pressed against your heart, began to glow in deepest crimson and swirls of green.

Falling like an angel would descend from grace.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #angst #trigger warnings #minors d #minors don't look #minors dont touch #yes I'm crying #you're crying too #we all cry here #no judgement #quickf #quickfic

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lunaekalenda · 21 days

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warnings: smut, use of a controller as a toy (don't ask), fem!bodied reader, they kinda use it to get off i guess....? i don't know if this is hot or cringe af y'all tell me

satoru is so mean.

he keeps you sitting in place, face against your neck while he plays with his friends. you can hear suguru's soft commands through his earphones. his controller rests on your thighs, dangerously close to the exact place you want your boyfriend's fingers, that still move masterfully on buttons, quickly. you can hear shots and steps, as your boyfriend clicks his tongue. you move a bit on his legs, trying to get some friction, something. he has teased you during your intense make out on his gaming break and now you're supposed to sit on his lap and patiently wait for him to finish. but you can't.

"be quiet." are the only words he whispers against your skin, a big palm leaving the controller to rest on your thigh, making you stop moving. he takes it back where it belongs, before resting both hands on your thighs, controller closer to your already wet panties. "don't distract me, it'll be good for both." you don't get him until he presses the shoot button. the controller, that he presses harder against you, vibrates strongly, making you moan from the sudden pleasure that runs up your spine. satoru laughs softly as he excuses himself in front of his teammates, muting his voice and taking the headphones away with only one hand. "seems like i'll have to play a bit more harder to hear you moan so nicely again, don't i?" he takes the controller back down, the hard plastic that his hands aren't holding pressed against your pussy, until he makes it vibrate again. and again. and again.

you can't even keep your mouth shut anymore, as the interrupted vibration and the incertitude of his next shot makes you even more aroused. your hands find his neck behind your body, pressing his head agains your skin while he does it again. his kisses get wet and open-mouthed under your jaw, as he slides the plastic a bit lower against you, vibrating again, stopping, sliding back up. you can read chat bubbles on his screen, but your brain is too occupied on him to understand the words. you can only feel the vibration, his mouth against your neck, his soft approval hums, the way he's getting hard against your ass. he pauses the game before putting the controller on the table, making you pout. his hands take your legs, opening them with a sweet dance of caresses, quickly rubbing once above your wet patch, as a ghost touch. you open your legs, accommodating yourself on top of him, making him groan under your body. he takes the controller again, and excitement swirls on your tummy. using only one hand, he takes the controller between your legs, firmly pressed against both you and him. and he presses the button.

your voices mix as you moan on top of him, his voice muffled against your neck while he keeps pressing, playing with the intensity, with the stops and movements of the controller against you. satoru groans again when the vibration reaches the top intensity against your bodies, and he's quick to take it away and put the game on pause again. not letting you close your legs, he slips one hand inside your long t-shirt, directly pass your panties' waistband. his finger easily finds your wetness as you try to press against him, against his fingers. he leaves a love bite on your jaw before speaking, slow, sweet tone against your ear. "all wet. all wet for me."

suguru's "STOP WASTING BULLETS YOU FUCKER" gets lost in the screen as satoru's fingers find their spot inside you.

#satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo smut #satoru smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #minors don't look #minors don't interact

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littleesister · 20 days

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dear minors on tumblr

hello everyone and welcome to another rant about internet safety and boundaries.

Since I’ve gotten many messages from minors because I’m one of the few blogs in this community that allow them. It’s my responsibility as a 20 year old interacting with teens and kids to give tips for when they interact with adults.

age: Never ever lie about your age, it puts both parties in danger. It’s important they know your age so they can adapt to your age group.

If an adult ever lies about their age don’t contact them again, and that’s period.

lying or misleading about age is not only dangerous but also illegal. So you can avoid many dangers if you’re honest.

Jokes:

as a minor you can joke about whatever you want but remember if an adult engages in sexual jokes with you even if your the one what started them. It’s a red flag, an adult has no business talking sex or sexuality with a minor.

Even if it’s a joke it still shows a lot about the person if they make resist, ableist, discriminating and disrespectful jokes or comments. If they always and can only use dark humor to be funny and nothing else. It’s a red flag as well.

questions:

Don’t ever give them your phone number, full name, address. Don’t ever send pictures of yourself, your house, school or things that can identify you. Even if it’s a picture of your tummy or you in your school uniform. It’s a red flag if someone ever asks you about anything this personal.

General:

don’t answer to personal questions

set boundaries about what you can talk about

tell your parents and friends who you interact with online

take a few breaks and reflect on how they make you feel

if they ever lie about something, personality, interests, hobbies to connect more with you it’s a red flag

and finally my dear kids before I let you go,

a no is a complete sentence

a block is an answer

speaking up is very brave

setting boundaries are mature

and finally you don’t need to grow up faster, enjoy your 18 years of childhood and teenage fun

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iridescentmauve · 2 years

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imagine robin buckley as your gf.

note: no this is not proofread go away if you're gonna point out my spelling mistakes. MEN DNI | requests: OPEN.

gf!robin who loves it when you steal her clothes and vice versa. seeing you in her jean coats always gets her flustered!

gf!robin who wants to show you off 24/7 to her friends :))

gf!robin who brags about how she has the best, prettiest and most amazing girlfriend ever to steven ( also points out how he's bitchless )

gf!robin who can't maintain eye contact with you without squealing and looking away <33

gf!robin who gets super flustered whenever you compliment her hands and can't help but imagine your cute puffy lips wrapped around her fingers :(

gf!robin who makes out with you during her breaks in the back closet of family video because she just misses your lips so much.

gf!robin who listens to madonna & the beatles with you all the time.

gf!robin who always wants you in her arms.

gf!robin who is used to spooning you, but wouldn't mind being spooned every now and then.

gf!robin who sets up the cheesiest dates with stuff she gets from the dollar store, but you love them anyway <3

gf!robin who favors giving you pleasure over receiving it.

gf!robin who would spend her entire lifetime in between your legs, lapping at your pretty little pussy until your clit gets all red and puffy. 💗

gf!robin who loves overstimulating you and edging you to double your pleasure.

gf!robin who loves it when you make a mess all over her pretty face <3333 whenever you do, she'll be begging for you to do it again and again and again until you're nothing but putty on her tongue.

gf!robin who loves it when you sit on her face and suffocate her with your pretty pussy, fingers holding her hips down on her face, sure to leave bruises later on 😖

gf!robin who takes her time sliding her long fingers into your pussy, savoring how your walls clamp down around her digits.

gf!robin who will either finger you slow and sensual or fast and rough. either way, she'll have you creaming on her fingers in no time 💗

gf!robin who will spend hours with her strap deep inside of you, rubbing fast circles onto your greedy clit until you cum.

gf!robin who loves it when you eat her out after she fucks you good and hard, your tongue lapping at her sticky folds is the best thing ❤️❤️

gf!robin who's aftercare is the absolute best out of anyone.

gf!robin who gently cleans you up after sex, puts your pajamas on for you and spends the rest of day or night spooning you while you sleep.

gf robin buckley my beloved <33333

stranger things taglist.

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x black reader #robin buckley x black!reader #robin buckley smut #x black reader #x black!reader #mdni #minors do not interact #minors don't interact #minors don't look

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teslathelame · 1 month

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forever mad at huey cos without his interference we coulda had a dante with TWO big beautiful brown eyes like a baby cow instead of just one :/

#nu carnival #hmph >:T #minors don't look

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reds-self-shipsafterdark · 2 years

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Imagine your robot F/O having a detachable cock and them offering it to you to allow you to pleasure yourself with for as long as you need.

Bonus: It connects to them wirelessly so they can feel everything you do with/to it, no matter how far away they are.

[All banners in this post are described in alt text]

#minors dni #no minors allowed #no minors please #smut #spicy #ns//fw #nsft #not safe for minors #minors don't look #minors go away #nsft imagines #self shipping nsft #robot f/o #robot fucker #self shipping

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darkkalendas · 2 years

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INTERLUDE I: 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔩𝔣 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔢𝔭 , pt.1

synopsis: will you disobey him and be against your own principles, or succumb to him and lose your purity?

You look good.

You always do, specially in the bodies you use to practice, with those tight buns revealing your neck and the white skirts that show your legs. They give you an even more angelical aura, remarking the purity that surrounds you. He has been observing you for a time, at his classes, when you dance, when you drink, when you listen to his orders with such a determination to follow them. How cute.

You have been practicing ballet on this academy for almost ten years, and he has just incorporated a year ago as the choreographer for this years' function on the Royal Theatre and, also, the love interest of the ballet you're gonna represent. This first weeks, he's helping all of you to improve your movements, and deciding who will be the lucky one getting the main character and dance by his side. Suguru Geto is, after all, the most important dancer of his time. He has won an incredibly quantity of prizes, directed and participated in the most impresionant performances of the last year and tried to make ballet something attractive, something to practice, to watch and to enjoy. He was a referent for all of you, but you, you admired him in a way none of your friends could understand. He's always so nice at you in class, always smiling, always correcting you, always being sweet. Yours is truly adoration towards your now teacher, the one that walks between your classmates, almost reaching you, eyes scanning quietly your friend's movements, and arranging her feet with a little touch of his. He keeps walking humming to himself, and you can start to feel the heath on your cheeks. He's handsome, way too handsome to be standing there, analyzing your movements, with that sharp and deep eyes moving freely on your anatomy. He makes you nervous to fail. You've worked too hard to get this character, and dance with such a professional gets your legs weak with excitement. He stops by your side and you focus on your movements, rising your arms with elegance and spinning beautifully, almost sure that you made it perfect, until a pair of hot hands hold your waist, making you quiet. His presence is heavy on your back, and his breath tickles your neck.

"You still put your hips on a bad position when doing that spin." You feel how everyone has stopped to turn and look at your correction. You feel heat on your cheeks as you try your best to listen to what he's saying. His grip gets unnoticeablily stronger on your sides. "You can get hurt." Looking around, he talks higher. "Don't you all need to practice?" Everyone returns to their work routine, still giving you some side looks and talking between them, but Suguru is still on the same position, maybe a little bit closer. You can feel the pressure of his legs behind yours. "Come here after the last class, at eight. I'll help you with that, alright?" he gives you a side smile and a couple soft slaps on your hips, as if he was cheering you, before leaving for the next one. You turn at Nobara, but she keeps the gaze low, on her corrected feet. Feeling again Suguru's presence near, you start to practice the other movements until the class ends.

"He's such an idiot." Nobara says to herself when you three are already on the street. Even when he asked you to stay, there is still a full hour, so grabbing a coffee with your friends is the time killer for today. Megumi stays silent by your side, while you all wait for Yuuji to exit the offices. "We get you're a professional, but let me get my goddam feet used to dance after the holidays." Nobara was the last one to enter to the class, and she was selected between the second year alumni to play a secondary role in one scene because of the lack of veterans.

"He's just making his work since lazy dancers like you didn't do the stretching and exercises he sent in all the month." Megumi talks in low voice. "How was yours?" he turns to look at you. "I saw he was correcting your spin, but it was quite good from my eyes." his brows move when he talks, and you smile shyly.

"He's the professional, so he's probably saw something I shouldn't be doing." Yuuji opens the door with a sigh, getting closer to all. The first days of December are colder than usual, and the four together walk towards your favorite cafe, under your teachers attentive gaze, before he smiles and leaves the window.

Gojo's café is really near to the dance studio, and you and your friends consider the owner one more of the gang, even when he's older than you. It's not strange to find the five of you having a chocolate in the lowest hours of the café. You four enter, even when it's full of people and you know the owner won't be able to accompany you today. He smiles brightly when he sees you, blue eyes scanning all of your faces. "Let me guess." he says from behind the bar, while drying a couple glasses with ease. "Americano, green tea, hot chocolate and mineral cold water?" he asks, gaining a groupal nod. He winks at you and indicates you to sit in your usual table. Gojo quickly gets your orders and sits by your side, with a soda between his hands. You drink little sips of your tea, and Yuuji drinks his water fast, even when Megumi is asking him to not do it.

"I'm thirsty." he pouts, but Megumi crosses his arms.

"It can be so bad for your health." the black-haired adds, pointing to the bottle with a sigh. Gojo gets near you, whispering on your ear.

"You've been looking at the clock every five minutes and checking your bun on the crystal door. Do you have a date?" he parts and moves his brows up and down. You laugh.

"No, no. I just have to go back to the studio. Professor Geto wants to check one of my movements." Gojo sighs, and nods. You know they used to be near in highschool, but time and some personal problems took them apart. Gojo sighs again and drinks, going back to the main conversation, that lasts longer than the time you have. Standing up and leaving the exact quantity of the tea on the table, you say bye to all of them and leave the café towards the studio again, where some students are talking in the door. You hurry up to the second floor and leave your things on the changing room before checking yourself in the mirror one last time. You're nervous. It's not easy to get a masterclass with him. You're lucky he put his eyes on you. Knocking on your room, he opens, smiling when he recognizes you. "Enter, please. And close the door." he goes back to the table, looking to the documents of assistance record, body gracefully leaning on the wooden surface. His bun is totally loose in comparison to yours, and a lock of hair falls on his forehead. His body is effortlessly collocated in one of the starter positions, and, honestly, he looks so good you need to take your gaze away and pray for the blush to disappear. He closes the documents and smiles at you. "Sorry." he walks towards you, and you feel tingles on your skin. "Actually, there was nothing wrong." he admits. "You execute all your movements with perfection, so congratulations for that." he gets some steps closer. "I want to try the main scene with you." your cheeks get red again and your gaze searches bid with surprise. "You're my main option for the protagonist, so I want to see if we can work right together. Would you like to dance with me?" You don't know how to answer. Of course you do, you really want to dance with him and you feel too honored, but you just nod. You're too afraid to look dumb in front of him. He smiles. So cute just for him. "So, let's play the second act scene, okay?" you nod again and get on your position while he puts the music, quickly reaching his spot when the last notes of the previous one start to fade.

You rise your hands and your body falls to a side, where his hand catches it. Your mind focuses on the music, avoiding and deleting all the other sensations and noises. His nose tip slides along your neck and you get straight again, starting a quiet movement on the tip of your feet. His hands get on your waist as he follows your steps. His movements and yours get naturally complemented, as if your bodies were made to dance with each other since the start. You turn, dance gracefully around the studio, looking at your reflection from time to time in the big wall mirrors. Geto's touch is hot and secure, and he doesn't miss a step. You feel comfortable and maybe that's his magic. The piece ends and the world becomes full of sensations again. The sound of the streers entering from the windows, the touch of Suguru's hands on your thighs, his quick breath behind you. Your chest rises fastly and you try to turn around when you get conscience of the embarrassing posture you have him into, but he doesn't let you move, still gripped to you and breathing fast. Your reflection, in front of you, shows his hands caressing your legs and warns you about the proximity he's taking to your neck. "You did amazing." he exhales, and you turn your head a little towards him, making your skin touch his. He smiles for himself. "I knew you were talented, but us together... We are made to dance like this." he turns you around quietly, looking at you in the eyes and cupping your face. Isn't he too close? Isn't this too intimate and afeccionate for a teacher? "It's hard to get this type of connection." he whispers. "I've seen the special in you since the very first day."

You blush to his words, and your legs tingle and tense to his touch. It's the confirmation he needed: you're a pure, sweet and innocent virgin. Oh, to change you. To touch you on the most crowded places and to make you addicted to him. He would so gladly teach you. "You're special." he whispers. He has felt your eyes on him since the start. Admiration fulfilled them, and now, he's gonna be able to see if it sticks to professionalism or instead your brain is already messing your fanatism with love. It will make things way easier. His lips are almost touching yours, and he smiles for himself when you close your eyes, receiving his kiss on an empty dance room, with Tchaikovsky playing in the background. This makes a lot more easier his plan to have fun with you. But you still don't know.

My poor, you're too innocent for a man like him. Don't fall on his tricks, don't get used to his touch.

Don't try the wolf's temptation, sweet sheep. It may become addictive.

#stage play • oedipus rex #interlude i collection #jjk suguru #getou suguru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen suguru #geto x you #geto x reader #geto x y/n #suguru x reader #suguru x you #suguru geto x reader #tw: manipulation #tw: corruption #tw: dark content #minors don't look #eventual smut

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aroalloselfship · 1 year

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Imagine your f/o yelling out, "Shoot your goo, my dude!" while you're inside them.

#nsft selfship #selfship nsft #nsft f/o imagine #nsft f/o imagines #selfship smut #top s/i #bottom f/o #minors dni #minors don't look #minors dont look

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lunaekalenda · 5 months

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champion treatment!

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, fingering, oral m!receiving, tbh i started this with a character in mind but it can be a couple of them so just tagging the ones i think that fit lol, femboodied reader, use of pet names as "darling"

"come on, you can do better."

but you can't. not with your mouth aching from taking his shaft and his fingers stuffed inside you, mercilessly thrusting in and out of you while his hips press against your face, making you take even more of him. your body is spread on his lap, his legs open so he can finger you at the same time you give him the special treatment for champions like him.

"look at you now, so silently, obediently sucking on my cock, huh?" he thrusts his hips and his fingers at the same time, his free hand resting on the curve of your lower back, arching you for him. "no more complaints, rudeness or sharp responses." he hums in approval when you moan around him, fingers reaching deeper as his own cock touches the back of your throat. "already too dumb to even remember what you said earlier to me?"

his apartment is silent, apart from his grunts and your moans, his heavy breath and your gasps for air every time he lets you breath. The windows are full open, giving a view of the city none of you are appreciating. you're too busy into each other to even notice the way the night lights start to turn on as the sun sets behind the windows. he takes his shaft out of your mouth, slapping it against your cheek with soft moans and lustful looks. he presses the tip softly between your half open mouth, two of his fingers running up and down his length while his eyes are fixed on yours. His other hand, still busy on you, adds another finger to your insides, making you moan, for his pleasure.

"let's see... you entered in my gym." he recaps, as his fingers keep moving inside you, making your back arch more and your own body search that friction. "no, no, that's not how it works. it's rude to cum while i speak, so you'll have to listen and wait, got it?" he takes your body closer, resting his back against the backrest, and taking your body between his legs, your back against his chest. his free hand keeps your legs parted as his fingers keep pumping in and out, so pleasurably, so good. "don't you dare to take your attention away from me, or i'll have to punish you." with that being said, he licks your neck from your shoulder to your jaw. "where were we? ah, yeah. the training." his fingers slow down for a bit, for your relief, as he kept thinking. "you entered while i was still training. that shouldn't be a problem, i'm used to having you fluttering around in those stupid gym clothes." his fingers quicken the pace, going more aggressively, while his thumb caress your lips. "then, that damned boy asked to train with me. as if i hadn't anything better to do as the champion." he grunts, the silence letting you hear the obscene wet sounds coming from his fingers. "and then, you stood up, came towards me and... what did you call me, dear?" the sarcasm in the pet name he uses on you makes your senses come back a little, only to be swept away with the next thrust of his fingers.

"asshole." you manage to speak between your teeth. he laughs before taking his fingers to your mouth, playing with your tongue, saliva dripping all down your chest while he hums.

"exactly, asshole." he approves your words, taking his fingers out of your mouth, still wet. "don't even think about closing those legs, hm?" you feel the coldness on your back when he moves a bit, taking the wet hand towards his hardness and pumping it up and down. you can hear the sounds he makes, the way he breaths, the way he moans and curses under his breath. "and then... what happened then?" he remembers perfectly, and your mind is too dizzy to even think about it. "then you went for a shower at the same time i did. such a coincidence, specially in a gym where there's only one shower room." he stops his words to moan audibly, and you can hear his fist jerking him faster. "mhm, fuck. i would have waited outside, but waiting is not for me." he takes his fingers out of you, glistening juices dripping down his fingers. you turn to face him right when he licks one of his fingers from the base to the tip, a lustful smile as soon as he's done. taking your nape, he brings you closer, pulling you for a kiss. his mouth is aggressive, violent. it crashes against yours like an hurricane, and his tongue slips inside of your mouth easily, playing with yours, muffling all the moans he lets escape as his hand keeps going, letting you taste yourself on him. he parts. spreading his body in the bed, he asks you to sit on his lap. gives you a side smile.

"then, we came here, to discuss your behavior in my gym." he continues, as he licks the hand on his shaft, giving it a slow pump again before getting on his knees. bending your body by your lower back, making you arch and open your legs for him. he puts a cushion under your tummy. his eyes are still fixed on your legs, on the way your juices drip down to your thighs, on how you desperately move your body to search for friction. he gives you a slap on your ass. "be quiet." his fingers caress you again, right before he leaves a hungry kiss on your pussy, tongue taking all the wetness and making you ready -as if you weren't.- for his cock.

taking him won't be easy, and you know it, but you're in so much pleasure you physically need him to fuck you. he slaps his cock against you a couple times, the lewd sight of your wetness coating his length, before he pushes his tip against you.

"and then, i told you we punish people like you." he moans between words. "the way your eyes looked at me, defiant... that made me instantly hard." he pushes a bit further, his fingers gripped to your ass as you take him inside, moaning every time he moves. "and then, somehow, we were making out on this exact spot."

you didn't knew what you felt for him. was it hunger? hate? desire? somehow, the vision of him lustfully smiling, with one hand marking the shape of his cock on his training pants and the other already inside his shirt, made something in you.

"how was i supposed to resist?" he finally pushes all his length inside, making you release all the air in your lungs. "with those cute training shorts that left nothing to my imagination." those shorts are now in front of you, messy, wet. "do you remember what happened next o your dumb brain needs me to refresh it?" he doesn't give you even time to answer when he thrusts deep inside you in one motion, making your voice leave in broken moans as he keeps making your ass bounce against his hips. "i touched you above those damn shorts, and you made such a mess... who would have known that the same asshole you confronted would be the one to make you wet with a couple of caresses and dirty words on your ears?" he thrusts again, harder, his body falling on your back and his lips kissing your shoulder. "fuck. and who would have known you hid something so good for me, hm?" you can feel his cock throbbing when your pussy clenches around him, the way his voice deepens every single thrust, how his words are more and more broken by moans. "i... i told you i would bend you over my bed." his hand presses harder on your back, arching you more, making him reach deeper as he goes harder and harder and faster. "and that i would fuck you senseless." he keeps going, drops of sweat running down his muscled torso towards the v on his hips. he gives a strong, deep thrust, staying quiet for a second, stimulating your clit with his wet thumb. "and that i would fill you up as many times as needed for you to learn the lesson." his hips start to move again, shy, slow, painfully slow, reaching and caressing sweetly every correct spot inside you.

"fuck." you're able to say the whole word before he laughs, his hand traveling to your shoulder to make his thrusts deeper.

"you're enjoying it, huh? i can feel how damn wet you're getting while i keep thrusting" he goes in again, harder, making you grip your hands on the fluffy bed cushion. "should i be a bit more rude? it's not a punishment if you're having a better time than me." his tone shows he's joking, as he caresses the curve of your ass before tightening his grip around your waist, guiding your body towards his again,. "although my first idea was to take you back to the gym and show everyone the consequences of annoying me, as soon as you looked at me back i knew i needed to keep that to myself." so, he drove back to his apartment, with you on the copilot seat, after making out on the changing room and decided to take it further on his luxurious penthouse. his hips keep slamming against your soft skin, wet noises can be heard in the room as he keeps going. your knees feel shaky from the effort of being in four while the pleasure makes them tremble. your voice is long gone from all the moans and grunts you've been releasing, and he seems way more silent than earlier, as a clear signal of pleasure.

"suck me in again." he asks, in low voice, a long moan following his words while he takes his hips far from your body, leaving your bodies only connected by his tip. you make an effort to do what he asks for, and the way he growls lets you know you did good. "yeah. just like that, exactly like that." his voice deepens as much as his cock does inside you. "you're taking it so well, you're even making me proud." he whispers. with a subtle movement, he pulls off suddenly, leaving you trembling and wanting more. He takes the pillow under your body away as he takes your legs, turning you around, resting on your back and facing him. his strong arms take your legs, putting both around his waist, as he enters again in a quiet movement, smooth, pleasurable. his face is now close, his moans getting mixed with yours and his arms holding his weight to avoid squishing you. "better this way?" he asks. you nod a couple times, too immersed in pleasure to speak, and he leaves a kiss near your jaw. "you're close, aren't you? i can feel it in the way your tighten around me." his hips slam sensually against your body, sweetly, way more lovingly than at the start of it. "come on, darling, cum for me, yeah? you deserve it after being so good for me." he hits the spot harder, deeper, before talking again. "cum so i can fill you up... i can't even imagine how good you're gonna squeeze me while you moan my name." his mouth is now on your ears, whispering such words and bitting your lobule. your mind feels cloudy, but you can feel the knot in your stomach, about to explode. you hug his back and your legs try to keep him closer, buried deep inside of you, as his name comes out of your mouth in a plead.

"yeah, yeah, exactly like that." his own words sound inestable, and his thrusts get erratic. "ah, i'm gonna fill you up so good... you've made such a hard work to take me today, you deserve it so much, don't you?" he rambles as he keeps going, so close. you feel overstimulated, your words aren't coherent anymore and you feel to tired to even move. your muscles keep clenching, and he moans every time you do so. "you deserve it, darling. take it, don't let it waste, yeah?" with a last thrust, you feel how his body loses strength, almost falling on top of yours, as he cums. he stays that way long time after he's done, hugged to your body and buried inside of you, while your hands caress his hair softly. your breaths are rhythmic now, and the city lights are more beautiful than ever behind the window.

#joo jaekyung x reader #jinx manhwa x reader #jinx x reader #jaekyung x reader #toji x reader #jjk x reader #minors don't look #minors don't interact #minors dont read #smut #jjk smut #eren x reader #eren x you #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo smut #eren smut

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