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philosophicalparadox · 2 months

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Naruto Worldbuilding HC’s: The Dark and the Dirty

(Aka a “what if Naruto were a Seinen” basically)

Naruto, as a series, has absolute shit world building, BUT it does lend itself well for that reason to coming up with something that almost-sorta makes sense.

In other words: I need a place to put these and while I’m on a nostalgic kick I might as well share. I’ve been known for these before, Naruto gets no exception just because it’s a Wee Shonen

These focus a lot on Konohagakure simply because that is where most the story takes place. If I write a fanfic about Naruto assume these are inherently applied.

— WARNING ⚠️ NSFW —

Please scroll past if you have baby eyeballs. Reader beware, TW: mentions of suicide, rape, incest and pathological behavior (I did say DARK)

Most controversial first: I don’t think there’s a whole lot of marital fidelity between shinobi. Or any other kind for that matter. And no, that isn’t based entirely on my wet slashy dreams, but because it doesn’t really make sense for there to be a culture of sexual loyalty in a profession where bodies/people are tools and relationships are frequently arranged to suit family inheritance laws or traditions. Arranged marriages are commonplace among clans and families, enough so that no one so much as bats an eye at it. In canon, we have examples of both Uchiha and Hyuuga doing not only arranged marriage but deliberately incestuous marriages (let’s get over that scary word can we? Please?) between cousins in the same clan. A predictable and historically upheld consequence of having a culture where arranged marriage is common is a culture where marital fidelity kinda takes a back seat, and having lovers on the side becomes extremely common. That is precisely where the idea of Mistresses came from.

In that vein, and adding to the reasons, most shinobi don’t settle down unless made to, and for as long as they work, they’ll try to keep away from particularly intense relationships. This is actually in the Shinobi handbook; it’s a “rule” they’re supposed to follow. Not everyone does obviously, but they’re not “supposed” to have romantic relationships at all, so the culture surrounding the subject is kinda weird and awkward, because unfortunately Shinobi are human and of course they fall in love, and sometimes want to marry that love, etc. etc. which all just makes the above point more messy and confusing and true.

Also in that vein, relationships with civilians are not only forbidden for the most part, but they are even more significantly taboo than all the rest. Like, pretty much every Shinobi knows it’s a bad idea, and very few I imagine would dare try. However … because Shinobi aren’t supposed to have serious relationships, there is quite a high incidence of promiscuity among men in particular, so while they can’t be with a civilian they can still screw them. Consequently I imagine there are actually quite a few little Shinobi born bastards out there. Though Shinobi are not supposed to reveal themselves to civilians normally, they are a big part of the military and have freakin magic, so I can picture quite a few foreign women tripping over themselves to get a bite of them regardless. A reputation for promiscuous behavior only adds to that appeal. (I think this is called the Soldier Effect? There’s a name for it IRL, taken mostly from the Korean War, but it’s been a minute)

Keeping to the sex stuff, Kunoichi are on birth control as soon as they’re able to be and they don’t quit taking it ever until they’re married off or somehow have time to stop a while. Condoms are extremely accessible and mostly free of charge; I can imagine they come with most Shinobi packs, both male and female.

Putting the rest under a cut bc TW

ANBU females carry rape guards of various kinds. — from barbed condoms to noxious chemicals, to poison and hidden weapons fit for purpose. These are available widely to any Kunoichi but for ANBU they are a mandatory part of the equipment. Men may or may not carry similar defenses for themselves; I think that very much depends on the person and where they’re going.

Love it or hate it rape is gonna happen. You got magic, you got genjutsu for gods sake, which makes a person relatively physically compliant, you got drugs and poison and all other manner of creatively making that easy. Every shinobi goes through a brief about it at least once in their career; Kunoichi are told later in their life that it’s something that can happen to them and to always be on the lookout for skeevy behavior, and they probably carry emergency contraceptives on hand just in case they either do something or get something done to them.

Speaking of drugs and genjutsu, I imagine most of why genjutsu puts people in the hospital on watch is so they can be prescribed/administered emergency antipsychotics and other psychiatric medications if needed. Yes the mental fatigue is real, but genjutsu is designed to (literally ) drive you crazy. The potential for psychosis is high, and the potential for depression and anxiety are higher.

Staying on trend: suicide among Shinobi is quite common. In some cases it’s an expectation of their job. However suicide from grief, depression or anxiety disorders is quite high. That there’s an excuse to be found at every turn and plenty of ways to off oneself by assisted means doesn’t make this less true.

In that light I can not imagine that Konoha in particular doesn’t have some type of psychiatric facility. Maybe it’s crude, rude and utterly dull, but they probably have one somewhere, devoted to Shinobi that can’t cope, but don’t want to die. However, this is a very Japanese-flavored society, and Shinobi are Shinobi, so there’s probably a taboo against using it. “It’s more noble to die than seek treatment for disease/succumb to weakness in any way” was a common Showa-era refrain in Japan and there’s a lot of heavy Showa-themed peppering in Naruto.(Showa is the pre and during WW2 era)

Murder is “uncommon” among people of the same village but that depends on which village and is more common than you’d think. Konoha has a reputation for being very buddy-buddy with each other (at least in Kiri they do) with an emphasis on teamwork, so murder is uncommon there, but far from unheard of. It is after all a MASSIVE village, and Shinobi are all about assassination and killing people. The impression is that in Kirigakure murder is actually quite common, to the point it’s encouraged to a degree. So there is certainly cultural distinctions between villages. But specifically in Konoha there’s that added incentive of it being more of a taboo thing, which of course makes it more rewarding to those that get away with it. ANBU seldom murder each other, but a bored ANBU with more time on his hands than common sense I could see turning it into a kind of dark bingo game.

ANBU are really in a class of their own. They have to be. They are Shinobi that hunt Shinobi. They are the do-the-dirty-work guys. And because of that, combined with training techniques and the appeal of the pay grade, ANBU tends to attract pathological people. Socio and psychopathy is quite welcome there. People that have malignant sadism and other injurious or murderous tendencies have a place there. Those with darker or morally questionable impulses that are looking for either escape from it (devoting themselves to the craft and trying to be emotionless) or a convenient way to make it happen tend to find a place there. Rapists, sexually malignant sadists, copycats, fanatics of several flavors, you name it. ANBU do try to police their own, and get rid of rotten eggs, but ultimately they are not people once they put the mask on. Their talents matter more than their flaws or personal failings. (This is their own canon view of themselves as a collective)

On the subject of ANBU: promiscuity is extremely high. Never know when you will die or why, so take it where you can. However this type of thing also tends to make lifelong celibates of people; so you either get the sleep-around people or the “never while I’m on duty or still alive” people. They mostly acknowledge and ignore each other but sometimes inevitably you get clashes.

A lifestyle dominated by exposure to the elements and lots of fights in close quarters with bladed weapons brings disease and injury concerns. Anything transmitted through blood becomes a hazard. Respiratory illnesses are probably quite common. Then there’s rate of injury — human bodies can only endure so much, and broken bones can kill you out there. I imagine two things that heavily skew the suicide rate for Shinobi are owed to being too hurt to go on or not wanting to deal with the disabilities, or having to deal with the disabilities in a culture that doesn’t appreciate them and suffering so much from that they can’t cope. Japan is not very disability-friendly and I wouldn’t expect a culture of Shinobi to be any nicer. If anything I’d expect them to be worse. Maybe part of why Shisui’s father went mad in canon after losing his leg and becoming unable to handle himself (though I’d love to point out that’s a Berserk reference too) he had no outside support.

Ok I think I’m done for now. I’ll come back to it later if I think of something to add. Feedback is welcome, Antis (of any flavor) are not.

#naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto headcanons #Naruto fan theory #tw pedophila mention #tw sa mention #tw sui talk #tw promiscuity #tw inc*st

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aesthetic-otd · 4 months

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Today's aesthetic is XO

#aesthetic #aesthetic blog #aesthetics #aesthetic otd #aesthetics blog #aesthetic community #aesthetic blogs #XO #the weeknd #Yes he has his own aesthetic apparently #tw drugs #cw drugs #tw cocaine #cw cocaine #drugs tw #drugs cw #cocaine tw #This aesthetic is controversial due to its motifs of drug use ; manipulation ; promiscuity and dereality

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everlastiingiimmortals · 2 months

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on the topic of salt and unpopular opinions...

...where the Fuck did sex god r.atio come from. firstly he's married to his work secondly he's not interested in you thirdly ?????? why must every man have a Big Dick and Perfect Performance In Bed like dont yall think youre only exacerbating all of the negative stereotypes

#//immortal; (OOC)#negative tw #and this brings me to General Complaints about fanon and how the top MUST always be super sexually experienced #and the bottom can ONLY either be a virgin or promiscuous like #why. what #stop that and go away #get out of here #aouaugh #is this why i write so many muses as more or less celibate or aspec... stares at my hands #sorry the dash got me Thinking

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1-800-internal-damnation · 5 months

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I think dick grayson as a character really pulls apart the whole "written by a woman = good" concept at the seams, specifically because people love to talk about his people pleaser personality (as of recent comics) and especially SA experiences as indicators of a well meaning Womanly Perspective writing him when in actuality the destruction of his personality and mentioned SA were orchestrated by a self identified "well meaning" woman who, you know, had fantasies of raping him. White feminism and the normalization of sexualizing brown and black men have done a number on a lot of you guys's critical thinking

#because why else would you have an admitted self insert female (of color btw which makes it so much worse) character assault him unprompted #it really is just white feminism #no other genre of feminism so aggressively enforces the divide between women and men as based on suffering #like is it truly progressive to absolutely maul a character's personality to mold it to your tastes then #export your suffering onto them #it just highlights the fact that white feminism and it's ideas has always depended on the subsequent demonization/opression/sexualization #of men of color #ie lynching #and just people of color in general #for example I'm sure having a latina woman rape dick grayson has done wonderful things for the hypersexualization of latina women #and the stereotype that they are forceful and demanding and promiscuous #I'm rambling but you get the point #txt #dc comics #dick grayson #racism #tw assault mention

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roboraindrop · 5 months

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Aaaaaaaaaa the NC Christmas special comes on tonight and should ready to stream tomorrow!!! CHRISTMAS DAN CONTENT 🥰🥰

#rain rambles #promiscuous prosecutor #I'm so excited!!!!#christmas tw

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ordinaryxxgirl · 1 year

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@beginngsining asked: "My, your mother really gave you an impressive gift huh?" Kaia commented, eyeing the huge dildo. "It's almost comical in a way."

“T-Try excessive, babe. Mom’s always been like that...I-I mean, it’s perfect for shoving up my ass, but I can’t use that thing anywhere near my pussy! And mom’s always happy to try knocking us up, too...I swear, Kat’s the only one who inherited anything resembling that thing Mom’s packing!

But...She’s still my mom and I love her, even if she’s hornier than Kat on a good day most of the time.”

#{Promiscuous Actress | Leslie}#beginngsining #{Implied Incest TW}

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miguelsslvt · 9 months

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ex nerd! scientist! miguel o'hara x slutty! reader

part two here!

word count: 745

TW: smut, nsfw, d/s themes, mentions of pet play.

A/N: THIS IS INSPIRED BY @nymphomatique SO PLS CHECK THEIR ONE OUT!! their drabble rlly inspired me so i thought maybe i could add a little twist;) welcome to the club!

back in your college days, you were.. promiscuous, some would say. well, you were the biggest slut on campus. if your body count didn't say it all, then the rumours sure did.

you took chemistry, maths, physics and biology. you wanted to be a physics scientist, partially because of the thought of there being lots and lots of different universes, but mostly because the pay was brilliant.

miguel o'hara was your 'pet' back in your college days, per-say.

you used him for your homework, and in exchange you would fuck him, give him head, handjobs, you name it. you took miguel's virginity, and every bit of innocence he had left. he was totally smitten by you. i mean, a pretty, popular girl giving him attention no one ever did? sign him up.

miguel was the biggest loser you knew back then. he wasn't the most muscly, and he had those ridiculous black square glasses, and his outfits were shocking. he had a slight lisp due to his late braces, and his hair was far too long and he clearly struggled to maintain it. to keep it blunt, he wasn't cool at all. he was a loser, a simp, and a goody two-shoes. perfect as your little pet.

it wasn't until after graduation did you stop your little encounters. after leaving college, you blocked his number and left campus on the same day. you thought you'd never have to see that nerdy freak again. well, that's what they all say, right?

that was until you finally got a job at ALCHEMAX. you were a 'technological support scientist', which sounded smart but really all you got to do was watch all the better scientists do tests. you didn't mind, it did more then just pay your bills. hell, with the checks you're bringing in you could probably buy a new car in a few months!

you thought things were all sunshine and rainbows, until the thunder walked in. it's funny though, you didn't realise thunder looked like 6'9 tall and 310 pound of pure muscle and attractiveness. his braces were gone, his hair more clean and cut a little shorter, and his glasses just resting on top of his head, but you knew exactly who he was.

'm-miguel o'hara?!' you said, shocked. he turned around swiftly, looking down at you, before his eyes widened. 'y/n l/n?' he said, surprised. you both had become blushing messes. well, his glow up sure came after only 3 years.

'you.. work here?' you asked, absolutely awe-struck. 'i.. do. i am a technological scientist here. you work here too? why haven't i ever seen you around before?' he asked, intriuged. 'i-it's my first day here. you.. matured.' you said, clearly checking him out.

the man smirked. he actually smirked. the man who would whimper, begging to just get off on your shoe, smirked at you like he was in control. 'and you look as gorgeous as 3 years ago.'

your heart stopped. who was this man? this muscular, defined, confident, completely self aware man.. this wasn't miguel. there was no way.

'you..you're very different, miguel.' you said, a blushing mess. he chuckled, putting some latex gloves on. fuck, even his hands were attractive. 'well alot happens to a guy.' he says smoothly, his voice deeper. god this was going to be hard.

♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎

that very night, you were spread out on the bed, and you didn't recognise the man above you.

3 years ago, a scrawny desperate nerdy little boy was on his knees, as if you were a goddess. and now, that very man was on top of you, kissing your neck so skilfully, as if he's done this for years. his thrusts had rhythm, as he grinded along your g spot with ease, you let out a gasp and a breathy moan, as he shushed you.

'sh, bonita.. you've changed. where's that dominatrix you were back in college days? why are you so.. obedient?~' he whispered in your ear, as you moaned again.

'i-i think i-it's y-you that changed, m-miguel..' you breathily said in response, as he chuckled. 'oh no, sweetheart, i'm still the same loser that was begging on his knees for you. just now, i've learnt how to please you as well as me.' he said in response, his hands moving down from your breasts to your hips, his cock deep inside you as he grinded his hips as you felt every inch.

god, is this heaven?

♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎

#atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel smut #miguel spiderverse #smut #across the spiderverse #fem reader #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman atsv #2099 #miguel x you #miguel o'hara x fem!reader

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oct0bra1ns · 2 months

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◡̈⋆ʜᴇʟʟᴏ(●’◡’●)ﾉ, I was wondering if I could request a yandere CEO who's well known to be the most powerful in the town and y/n who was offered to him and had a evolveving relationship?

Endless riches

pairing: Yandere CEO x reader TW: , yanderes, violence against others, notes : HIIII, HELLOOOO nananananan, brain empty reblogs and comments are appreciated!

♡ Yandere CEO who was handed down his position from his father, who used his status and looks to get with people, have his fun and leave them.

♡ Yandere CEO who's promiscuous behaviour was giving the company a questionable name and his father an endless amount of stress.

♡ Yandere CEO who's father threatens to rip the company from his hands unless he starts acting properly and finally settle down with someone to save face.

♡ Yandere CEO who picks you from the endless pile of candidates. Who uses his money to convince your parents to give you to him.

♡ Yandere CEO who doesn't mind when your defy everything he asks of you, who suddenly has a patience of a saint when dealing with you as opposed to when he's dealing with idiots.

♡ Yandere CEO who loves to buy you the most expensive items he can find, who funds all your activities and hell, he'll even pay for your college if you ever want to study anything.

♡ Yandere CEO who'll give you a job in his company if you insist on working and earning your own money. Though, it doesn't matter, he'll still cover all your expenses.

♡ Yandere CEO who adores having you on his arm during social events to show off, who flaunts your beauty everywhere but the moment anything comes too close, he'll make sure their company ends up bankrupt.

♡ Yandere CEO who makes sure everyone in town knows you're his. People don't have the courage to mess with you in fear they'll end up with no money.

♡ Yandere CEO who's pleasantly surprised when you finally accept your role as his spouse, making him meals, asking how his day was. Of course good behaviour deserves to be rewarded, as such he takes you out for dates more frequently know that he doesn't have to worry about you running off.

♡ Yandere CEO who books out the entire hotel if you're too nervous to eat In front of people or just don't like the noise.

♡ Yandere CEO who makes sure you never lack anything in life <3

#my eyes burn #it's 1 am #sobs #octo answers #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #tw yandere #octo writes #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere male #yandere CEO #yandere x willing reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere headcanons

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yandere-writer-momo · 5 months

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I cut out the sex scene because it bordered on Noncon. This is pure horror, it’s not even meant to be seen as romantic.

Yandere Baki Short Stories: Monster

Yandere Cheater Hanayama x Afab Reader

TW: HORROR, Suicide (fake death), depressing themes, angst, delusion, Yandere behavior,etc

(Your name) blankly stared at the passport in her hands. this was it… She was finally leaving her neglectful husband. She would turn over a new leaf and live her life for herself for once.

No more arranged marriage. No more loneliness. No more sleepless nights from the women he’d bring to his room. (Your name) would finally be at peace.

The wind ran its fingers through her hair and tousled a bit. She wished the comfort was an actual person rather than the icy wind but life didn’t quite work out that way. She was a woman born into a crime family but she had no interest in continuing the legacy her family intended her to.

(Your name) had no desire to be a pawn piece used as a peace treaty amongst the rival family. She wanted love. She wanted to live. (Your name) didn’t want to be the submissive, demure wife of an oyabun who constantly fraternized with other women.

She tried to make it work, she truly did. She tried talking to him whenever she had the chance, she tried to cook for him, organize his schedule, do his paperwork, and she even tried to get him to walk with her in his rose garden, but he’d flat out ignore her. She merely wanted to make their relationship tolerable, she wouldn’t even care if he wanted to continue to see those promiscuous women so long as they were amicable with each other. Yet he hated her because she was the daughter of the rival gang that killed his father.

Hanayama Kaoru was as cold as ice. His heart permanently locked up and unthawable. If (your name) stayed in that manor and went through with the marriage, she had no doubt she’d be miserable with him for the rest of her life… so she did what any sane person would do. She ran.

(Your name) would start a life in a different country with a new name. She would be selfish… faking her death wasn’t even a hard task to do. She simply wrote some depressing diary entries that would bring an angsty teen to shame. She even wrote a suicide letter.

Poor, clumsy (your name) jumped off a cliff and drowned in the murky ocean never to be seen again. It was fool proof.

(Your name) adjusted the sunglasses on her face and continued her journey into the airport. Her small suitcase rolled behind her, the wheels clacked against the brick road.

It was the start of a dream… or so she thought.

Hanayama laid in his bed in thought. Where was she? (Your name) would usually be here around nine in the morning to make sure he was up…

Hanayama sat up in his bed and pushed the woman that was draped across his chest off. His dark eye turned toward the door. Why wasn’t she here?

Hanayama wrapped a robe around his bare body and made his way out of his room. He ignored the grumbles of his latest bed warmer to instead try to figure out where his wife was. Why wasn’t she here?

Hanayama noticed how quiet the manor was and it unnerved him…

Hanayama was shocked to see there was no breakfast made for him in his office and no (your name) in there to greet him… where was she?

Hanayama then paused. Maybe she decided to leave him alone like he asked?

Hanayama sighed and nodded. Yes… that’s what happened. She must have finally decided to listen to him!

And so Hanayama went on to continue his day but the dread in his stomach hadn’t gone away.

His gut knew there was something horribly amiss.

A week had gone by since Hanayama had last seen (your name). His glass of water was no longer full beside him and his desk was unorganized. Hanayama’s meals weren’t made correctly and his schedule was in disarray.

A week without her and Hanayama now realized just how much his wife did… and it bothered him.

Hanayama stood outside the door of her room with a frown. He should talk to her… he needed her help with the paperwork.

“Wife. Are you in there?” Yet there was no response. He felt his hair stand up on his arm as alarm bells loudly rung in his head. She always answered him… she would have ran to him if he came to see her first.

Hanayama slid the door open to her room and was shocked to see how plain it was. This room didn’t look like it belonged to the wife of an oyabun. This room looked like a servant’s. Where were the decorations and the clothes?

Hanayama felt his stomach twist when he noticed just how little she owned and how cold it was in here. Was this why she’d ask for blankets? Why she wanted to go shopping?

Hanayama felt guilt sink into him. He was an awful husband- what was that?

Hanayama began to tremble in fear at the letter on her desk. His hands shakily opened it to read its contents. And not even after the first paragraph, he ran out the door.

She couldn’t have killed herself… she wouldn’t have. She loved being here with him. She loved him. She’d never do that.

Hanayama ignored the shouts of his men as he ran onto the cliff behind the Hanayama compound. His heart drummed in his ears from his scared he was. She was okay… she didn’t actually do it…

But the sandals at the edge of the cliff told Hanayama everything he needed to know.

Hanayama’s hands shook as he picked up the dainty, worn out sandals. Tears gathered in his eyes in realization.

(Your name) jumped off this cliff and it was all his fault…

Hanayama heard his men shout as they paused behind him in shock.

“Send out a search party to find my wife’s body.” Hanayama ordered his men who obeyed. They quickly left him to his own devices.

Hanayama held the sandals close to his chest as the tears began to fall. His wife… his poor wife.

This was all his fault.

(Your name) really loved her life in Hawaii. It was such a beautiful island and the people were so friendly!

(Your name) smiled as she laid in the sun to tan. She wondered if Hanayama was finally happy since she was out of his hair?

She shook her head to get rid of the thought. Why did she care if her neglectful husband was happy? It’s not like he ever cared about her happiness…

Hanayama never went on walks with her and he never ate a single meal with her. Hell, they never consummated their marriage. He went to bed with some other woman on their wedding night just to let her know how he felt about her.

Hanayama probably left for joy when he found that letter. He no longer had to deal with such an awful wife and he was free to do whatever his heart pleased so (your name) should do the same.

(Your name) went back to enjoying her drink. It was better to forget the old life she had, it’s not like Hanayama ever cared about her in the first place.

(Your name)’s funeral was practically empty save for Hanayama and Kizaki. It made Hanayama feel even worse that her own family didn’t even come.

Her body was never found either so her sandals would be buried. It made this whole ordeal even more depressing.

Hanayama had read her diary and was so distraught to find out just how much she cared for him. Of how she had originally really wanted their relationship to work since she didn’t have love at home. But she eventually just wanted to be friends if he didn’t want to ever touch her. To at least be civil with one another if he couldn’t love her.

(Your name) would write about how she had always wanted to go on a date or just a walk in his rose garden. Of how she just wanted to spend time with the husband that hated her. Of how she’d like to start gaze with him and listen to his troubles… he never deserved her.

Hanayama felt like the worse man in the world because she had ended her own life to make him happy. To leave him alone like he wanted her to… but he no longer wanted that.

“They always say you don’t know what you have until it’s gone…” Hanayama whispered as he placed a rose on (your name)’s casket. “I will never touch anyone else ever again. I will atone for my sin of neglecting you.”

Kizaki frowned at how distraught his boss was. (Your name) was a really sweet young woman but he didn’t think Hanayama would be so affected by her death. He’d give him time to move on, Kizaki was sure Hanayama would be back to normal in no time…

Hanayama now slept in (your name)’s old room. It was so cold in there but he felt closer to his wife… like she was here with him.

Hanayama would bury himself into her pillow and inhale her soft scent every night to help him sleep. He missed her so much… he missed his beautiful wife.

Hanayama often dreamt of her smiling at him when she used to bring him breakfast. Of how her face would light up whenever she’d ask about the rose garden… he swore he heard her voice from time to time. (Your name) haunted him.

Sometimes he’d dream that she was still here and she was pregnant with their first child. Vivid images conjured in his mind of her smiling face as the two of them had a picnic together in the rose garden she loved so much. Or maybe even the two of them visiting Hawaii together so she could swim with the dolphins?

Hanayama would never forgive himself for what he destroyed. For how he pushed his wife to do such a horrible thing. Hanayama would punish himself till the day he died for being the reason such a sunny person was snuffed out of existence.

“I miss you so much, (your name). I’m sorry… I’m sorry.”

Hanayama apologized to her every night in her room, he just wanted her back… he wanted his wife back so he could make it all better to her.

If she reappeared before him, he’d be the perfect man for her. Hanayama would take her out on dates and have her sit beside him as he did paperwork. He’d sleep beside her and he’d make love to her every night.

Hanayama would be the ideal husband if she was alive. Yet that was all a dream he had… or so he thought.

Half a year had went by and Hanayama looked worse for wear. He had bags under his eyes and his face was a bit gaunt. Kizaki began to be worried sick about Hanayama.

“How about a vacation?” Kizaki offered Hanayama. “You could go to Hawaii?”

Hanayama felt his heart clench at the mention of that island. (Your name) had always wanted to visit there… she wrote about it in her diary.

Kizaki frowned at Hanayama until the large man rose up. “Yes… I think that’s will be nice.”

Hopefully Hanayama pulled himself together on that little trip.

Hanayama felt his heart stop when he arrived to the hotel in Hawaii. There she was… there was (your name)! But how was she alive? Was this some sick twist of fate?

“I can help whosever next-“ (your name) felt her eyes nearly bulge out of her head when he ex husband stood before her. What was he doing here-

She was suddenly pulled over the counter and into his large arms as he latched onto her like a lifeline. His face buried into her hair while his nose greedily inhaled her scent. She was real… she was alive!

(Your name) tried to pull away from him but Hanayama’s grip was inescapable. His whole body trembled in relief. “(Your name)… I’m so happy you’re alive. Let’s go home.”

“I think you’re mistaken-“ (your name) gasped when Hanayama suddenly kissed her. His large lips practically swallowed hers in a hungry kiss. Why was her ex husband so strange? He’s never cared about her before, hell, he’s never kissed her before. So why did he act like they were long lost lovers?

“Let’s go home. I’m going to make everything right this time. I think the boat is still at the dock so this must be destiny...” (Your name) could do little to change the Oyabun’s mind. The giant threw her over his shoulder like a savage as he carried her out of her job at the hotel.

“Hanayama, please let me down-“

“I read your diary every single day since you disappeared. I’m going to make it all right.” Hanayama quietly rambled. “I will live the rest of my life as your one and only husband. There will never be anyone else, if you want I’ll get rid of them.”

“That’s unnecessary-“

“It is necessary.” Hanayama interrupted her with a sigh. “I have to atone for my grave sin of negligence.”

Hanayama set her down on the boat before he gestured to the bewildered crew to take them back to Japan. The silence was so thick, a knife could cut through it.

A few moments went by, the sound of waves and the engine of the boat their only soundtrack until Hanayama’s deep voice spoke up.

“When we get home, we can walk together in the rose garden.” Hanayama engulfed her small hands in his large palms. “We can have another wedding and this time, we can consummate our marriage properly.”

Hanayama sighed dreamily when he brought her hands up to cup his cheeks. “I’ll spoil you this time around. I forgive you for your little runaway attempt but this time I’m never letting you go.”

(Your name) gulped as pure terror swallows her whole. This man was no longer her old husband, this was a man who had gone completely insane with guilt to the point he didn’t realize what reality was… this was a monster.

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nanaminokanojo · 16 days

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ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE | Sukuna X You | CHAPTER INDEX/PROLOGUE (Ongoing)

-meet cute? a cheesy musical number? forget it! love makes itself known to you through a minor car accident, a broken arm, and a treacherously charming temporary chauffeur

CHARACTERS: sukuna x you/reader | jjk characters (uraume, gojo, geto, shoko, nanami, choso, maki, nobara, mei-mei, etc.)

AKI’S NOTES: Reblogs and likes are very much appreciated, and I actively respond to comments as well as Asks. Also, if you’re interested, I will include you in the tag list. Just message me through whatever avenue you’re most comfortable with. Happy reading!

MASTERLIST

A/N: Yup. Intrigue and a video right off the bat.

CHAPTERS: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30

31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45

46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | 56 | 57 | 58 | 59 | 60

ADDITIONAL NOTES: i will be using pics and other media which would fit situations and make the smau-ness of this piece a little more realistic and entertaining when i believe it’s appropriate/fitting to the plot (as i've done with my other smau). having said that, with regard to inclusivity, i just want to put it out there that they will not necessarily be aimed as the exact descriptions to fit a supposedly generic reader nor will they be representative of a specific race or color. it’s all for the simple fact of media availability, for funsies and the fact that i don’t exclusively write in consideration of those aspects when using reader-insert characters unless i specify it. thank you for understanding.

TAG LIST: OPEN | PLEASE READ: If you wanna be included in the tag list, please make sure that your “Exclude __(tumblr username)__ from Tumblr search and recommendations” setting is OFF so I can actually tag you guys and you'll get notifs when I update. Thank you very much. Here's a reference for the instructions from @domainofmarie. Thank you very much, my friend. This is very helpful.

A/N: I have another version of this story somewhere on the internet with different characters, and I thought, why not make it a Sukuna smau. So excited for this! This'll probably come out this weekend lol or the next if push comes to shove.

PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

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schtrawberry · 2 months

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[3] personal astrology observations

[!] this is mostly an introspective view into my chart; in no way, shape, or form am i saying that any of this is fact or set in stone, nor am i saying that i am a professional astrologer. these are just presences that exist within my chart that i've felt manifest themselves in real life. simply put, take what resonates and leave what doesn't :)

— the observation that venus in the 9th house and sagittarius mars natives are far more likely to be attracted to foreigners and/or meet their future partner/s in a foreign country is true!

[nothing, just felt like confirming, esp as someone w both these placements 🤭 like, i honestly am more likely to be approached (in a romantic setting) by a foreigner both in-person and online!]

═ sun square neptune is the aspect of daydreamers. they're always thinking about an idealized version of the future or dwelling on the past. rarely do they ever think in the present. it is often easier for them to drift off into a daze either thinking about what could have been or everything that could be.

☰ chiron in fifth house indicates pain associated with creative passions and self-expression. one may have had negative experiences that have led them to feel insecure about these aspects of life; thus leading them to distance themselves from openly expressing themselves creatively. they may take great care to keep their works of art private, tone down certain parts of their personality, and may even feel ashamed to explain themselves when others ask them about certain aspects of their creative and self-expression because of negative feedback they could have gotten in the past.

but with such pain comes empathy and understanding. once developed, these natives are the first to take notice and are the fastest to lend a sensitive ear as well as a supportive hand as soon as they see others going through the same struggle.

☱ sun-lilith in harsh aspects might have been told to cover up more by both peers and grown-ups, even when wearing "acceptable" clothing when they were kids. this placement can indicate an individual that was more sexualized from a young age, which can lead to them either being hypersexual or overly-reserved sexually in adulthood.

☲ lilith in the 7th house can indicate an individual that struggles to commit and open up about who they are to their partner/s. people with lilith in this house may have had bad experiences with marriage (perhaps witnessing bad divorces or tumultuous long-term relationships between their parents) and therefore might be turned off by the thought of marriage and/or long-term partnerships.

and though this doesn't mean that the native will be a lone soul forever, it does make one more likely to have these sort of relationships at a significantly older age in comparison to other signs.

[tw: mention of domestic violence in my personal experience, i have witnessed my parents go through an incredibly bad separation (tons of emotional abuse, infidelity, and a situation actually involving domestic violence) which has honestly made me quite hesitant to get married, even as i approach my mid-20s.]

☴ the cancer rising urge to cry when someone you care about is crying or in distress in general.

☴ a few asteroid notes:

note: asteroids are less impactful to one's personality, physicality, etc. compared to personal planets. they tend to only be relevant to one's chart if they are either in a tight orb (0-1°) or have major aspects to personal planets, preferably conjunctions or oppositions.

✢ messalina (545) known as the most promiscuous woman in rome, empress messalina is still recognized today as a symbol of uncontrolled, violent, irrational, and impulsive behavior. this asteroid reminds me very much of lilith in that it is representative of dark feminine energy and having this prominent in one's chart can be indicative of an individual that is not afraid to use their sexuality to their advantage or to create harm unto others in different aspects of their lives, but especially in terms of romantic and sexual relationships.

✢ anagolay (3757) is an potentially hazardous asteroid named after anagolay, the tagalog goddess of lost things and the daughter of the hermaphroditic goddess of seasons, lakapati. she is culturally-recognized for her ability to find not only physical objects but also abstract possessions like lost opportunities and faded memories. having this prominent in one's chart can suggest an individual that is very in-tune with cycle of nature and the subsequent passage of time. they may be more sensitive to bouts of nostalgia where they dwell on things that could have been and the way that things were. may also just indicate a person that is hypersensitive to losing physical things, though.

[`] film: go (2001) dir. isao yukisada

last / next

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bell4donn4 · 2 months

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Loser!luke agenda

You guys got me. Loser!luke ahead 😔

TW: Mention of alcohol, smoke, sex or implied sex, use of the word “teenager” to describe overaged characters, Luke and reader are both 18+, not completely canon but whatever

Loser!luke who never touched a woman his entire life.

the childish ambience of camp never really left much space for normal teenagers activities, such as getting drunk and having sex- but he was almost 19 and had no experience whatsoever.

The best he got was his own fist, which was never put to use much anyways because of how busy he was.

So once you arrived at camp- all promiscuous and much more experienced in real life that he ever will be- he was completely captured by you.

You were new to the life in camp halfblood, and have lived through your teenagerhood without a single thought of playing around with swords all day.

You didnt even like to be there, and often caught breaking the rules; maybe smoking on the creek or getting drunk with the satyrs.

Luke was taken aback by your rebellious spirit, it was news to him, and it got him curious.

Whenever he needed to help you out with stuff, he would stumble on his own feet, or get incredibly red after a look you spared him.

It was ridiculous, really. He himself felt ashamed of how much you affected him, yet, he couldn’t help it.

You, on the other hand, immediately took notice of his body language, and often used it against him.

The life pace at camp was boring, and getting Luke flustered was the most entertaining activity in your opinion.

Such an innocent boy he was, I didn’t take lot to realize he was a virgin, and maybe didn’t even give his first kiss yet.

That was an exaggeration, obviously, but who knew.

You liked the idea of corrupting him. Of showing him what being a teen was actually like.

So you slowly started to make him try different kind of stuffs. Starting from a simple puff of a cigarette, to getting drunk and skinny dipping in the lake.

He could never say no to you anyways. Not when breaking the rules (something he wasn’t used to do at all) felt so good.

The perfect head counsoler- who everybody looked up to as an example- running around after curfew go get a taste of a cheap vodka you got from the Dionysus’s kids.

Obviously, all of this had to lead to more at one point.

Specifically, it led to you lying in your bed, looking at the ceiling in silence. Silence which you broke.

<<have you ever touched a woman, lukie?>> you asked, voice hoarse from the drinking.

His cheeks flushing red.

<<no>> he whispered back.

<<would you like to?>>

<<y-yeah>>

That night, you let him touch your titts, and clothed pussy. Then, it quickly escalated into a drunken handjob- the first (and best) he ever got.

#luke castellan #percy jackson #pjo series #luke castellan smut #pjo x reader #luke castellan x reader #smut blurb #loser!luke #percy jackson x reader #pjo #luke castellan pjo #pjo boys #pjo smut #luke castellan x you

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roboraindrop · 1 year

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I'm so normal about this man and this gif I swear to god

#anyways. I love him So Much #promiscuous prosecutor #gushing #My Danny boy...... 🥰#smoking tw

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carolmunson · 10 months

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caught like a fool without a line. (older!modern!eddie)

part five of who knows how many. orange colored sky setlist.

summary: we've been seeing eddie for a month and the fear starts to settle in. with eddie's past and present making things difficult and your own insecurities brewing, things come to a bit of a head one night when you're out at a bar. featuring older!robin and our favorite guy older!steve from @loveshotzz series 'all i really want is you'.

tw: age gappy (reader and eddie are 12 years apart, but reader is late late 20s/early 30s and eddie and late late 30s/early 40s throughout this story so it's not like so bad). drunk!reader, alcohol consumption, discussions of eddie's promiscuous past (i know some people don't like when eddie is a slut), implied that reader wears eddie's clothes to bed but not that reader is small. gifs by: @keerysbrandnewbg and @eddiemunsonsource

songspiration: open | rhye and feelings | lauv

You swirled the big ice cube in the tumbler with an unenthusiastic flair, making the orangey red liquid in the glass nearly spill. “And I don’t get it, we had a really nice first date and then made out again the next week and talked all the time and now he’s barely texting me back,” you complain, the tart grapefruit of your friend’s new take on an Aperol Spritz floods your mouth at your next sip.

“Maybe he’s just busy,” your friend Charlie suggests from behind the bar, “He’s older, you said, right? He might just not be on his phone as much. Do you like the drink? Is it too bitter?”

“It’s bitter but not in a bad way, in a good citrussy way,” you nod, “And yeah he might not be on his phone as much but then why just sort of suddenly drop off and barely respond? Like, look at this.” You take out your phone, laying it on the bar and scrolling through a plethora of blue texts with some sprinkles of gray in between, “I look so pathetic.” “I think you just really like him,” she shrugs, smirking, “And I think that’s good, you haven’t been this excited about someone for a little bit.” “Yeah, but every time I’m excited about someone it bites me in the ass,” you lean on the palm of your hand, flipping your phone over, “Plus like, I’m not trying to be with anyone like that right now.”

Your friend gives you a look, “Okay, sure.”

“What do you mean ‘okay, sure’?” you scoff.

“You’re not trying to be with anyone like your ex,” Charlie corrects, her dark red lips pulling into a smirk, “You go on and on about how you just want someone to take care of things for you. Maybe he’s that kind of dude.”

“He has someone come every Sunday to clean his house for him,” you sip the drink again, “I don’t think he can take care of anything for me, considering I can clean my own house.” The bar slowly starts to fill up with the after work crowd, leaving Charlie to run back and forth between you and pouring beers for incoming patrons.

“He can afford to have someone come and clean his house,” she says with a smirk, holding down the tap while she fills a glass with Lagunitas, "That's kind of hot." You flip your phone back over and sigh, no new messages.

If anything is true in the music and art world Eddie is involved in it's that Eddie Munson is a professional loverboy. Never with someone for too long, never long enough for them to want something more than fun -- never long enough for 'Are you my boyfriend?' never long enough for 'What are we?' It got easier the older he got, the less women and men cared about labels. You were right to make that judgement about his key carabiner hanging on the front of his keys. Eddie Munson is a slut, and everyone knows it but you.

He had two actual girlfriends in his early twenties, but nothing quite like his friendship with Steve. 'Platonic life partner, sometimes,' they'd list it as -- never too afraid to get affectionate. Hugs, kisses on the forehead, Eddie held him so many nights when Emma died he felt like they left an indent in the center of the bed. He touched and loved the people who loved him back, but to anyone else – he never wanted to get too close. He always gave out just enough of him – enough for people to keep wanting more, a satisfaction he basked in now since he was such a loner in high school with no notches to his belt.

But now he’s blabbering on to Robin over a huge plate of nachos about how you texted him all day. You texted him all day and he had his phone charging in the kitchen while he was upstairs in his office so he didn’t know and now it’s very clear that you’re upset.

"Okay? How is this different from the girl you were seeing over Christmas?" Robin laughs over a mouthful of loaded nachos, a frosty pink Frosé next to her to beat the heat. Her eyes crinkle closed, a smattering of freckles stretching on the apples of her cheeks when she smiles. The heat of a sunburn runs soft pink over her nose, outside of the gray in her sand blonde hair that she'll never dye, she looks almost the same as she did in high school. “So you didn’t text her back,” she shrugs, “You leave her alone, she fades off into the distance – just like the girl before that, and the guy before that, and the girl before that. Why're you talking about it like it's the end of the world?” "I care," he groans, turning his phone to show Robin your messages. You'd sent them every few hours, but most of the messages from the morning and afternoon were from when he was working -- phone nestled on the charger down in the kitchen while he clacked away on code upstairs. By the time he saw them he was embarrassed, and you were probably already at your friend's bar. Eddie tries to explain the whole situation while Robin scrolls through with a careful and soft expression, a tiny smile forming on her face.

“I already fucked it up,” Eddie sighs, pulling his hair up into a ponytail with volume hair stylists would envy. He runs his hand over his jaw, following the edge of it to land behind his neck where he squeeze gently on the muscle.

Robin shrugs again, passing his phone back to him, “Par for the course, kid.”

His eyes narrow, “I’m older than you.”

“Whatever,” she rolls her eyes, “You always fuck it up, Ed. That's your thing. You walk into a room and someone leaves crying. You've never done the whole sappy love thing with someone, why do you think you're changing your tune now?”

“I know but – fuck Robin, I didn’t even sleep with her yet,” he says a little louder than he intends. His tattooed hand wraps around the Pilsner glass in front of him, dripping in condensation, bringing it to his lips.

“That’s a new development,” she raises her brows, crossing her legs, "You never wait this long."

“I just…I don’t…I shit – I don’t know.”

“What did Steve say?” Robin asks, teeth biting down on the straw to her drink, “He always has good girl advice.”

“I haven’t even told Steve.”

“At all?!” she nearly spits out the frose all over the nachos.

“Rob we just buried Em,” he explains softly, “Like, she’s not even fuckin’ cold yet. I can’t just come out of the woodwork five months later like ‘Hey man, think I actually met a girl I’d consider a future with. We’ve been seeing each other for a month’. And like – what if I’m just psyching myself out? What if this is just an early midlife crisis?”

Robin takes a slow sip, nodding while he speaks before taking a pause. “Ed, I think you’ll feel better if you tell Steve,” she offers, “I think he’d get your head straight about it. But in the meantime, you should text her back.”

“What do I even say?” he huffs, shoving a loaded nacho into his mouth. “Try honesty with a woman for once in your entire life, Rockstar boy,” Robin plasters on a customer service smile that makes him let out a frustrated ‘tsss’, “It won’t kill you.” "Here, I'll text Nance and ask her -- she's our next best bet," Robin takes out her phone and types with the fervor of a teenager with a sugar high. Eddie sips his beer, looking at the screen of his phone while the cursor to type blinks back at him.

You stumble out of the bar, too crowded now to have fun with your friend. Over tired and over served you make your way down the street and around the corner, stopping to lean against the brick wall of a different bar when you feel your phone buzz in your hand. You take a minute, taking in your surroundings. People are so loud down here, and everyone is so pretty. Street lights are there and gone and there and gone as cars whiz passed on Delancey, the bustle of the Friday night life in the LES is a buzz with excitement. You're already a little down for the count. Your phone feels like a paper weight in your hand, sighing with satisfaction at the notificaiton on the screen. But your chest still aches with annoyance, how many times were you gonna get drunk at a bar with a swollen heart over some dumb boy? Man? Guy?

You don't want him to come save you, you know how to get home. You can see the green bulbs of the train entrance and the glow of the McDonalds 'M' on the corner in the distance. Down the stairs, one train into Brooklyn, cross platform transfer -- you've done it drunker than this countless times before. You text Charlie with an air of victory before putting your phone back in your smart black faux leather bag slung over your shoulder. The warm summer air flows over your legs, catching the hem of your a-line skirt -- the light material flowing in the breeze. Time isn't working quite right for you but it feels like it's been five minutes and he hasn't shown up, so you make your way to the edge of the corner to cross.

"Whoa there, Peach," you hear Eddie's gruff voice from the side of you, the pull on your arm the same as when he steadied you at Trader Joe's a month ago, "Careful now."

You pull out of his hold, glassy eyes focused on the black and white stripes on the street ahead of you, "I know what I'm doin'."

“Where are you goin’, huh?” he asks softly. Eddie steps in front of you, guiding you to the light post to get out of the way of other pedestrians.

“Home,” you slur, “M’goin home. Trainssright there.”

“I don’t think you’re good to take the train,” his voice is gentle, hand coming out to hold you at the waist, “I can get you a car.”

“I’m fine.” It's the only sentence that comes out lucid, his jaw ticks.

"You don't look fine," he looks down into your glassy eyes, a look he's seen before. The way his mama would drown herself in whiskey and stumble into the kitchen so the bruises would't hurt so bad. The way an old fling would slur to him about how she can't live without him. The way you look so sad and it's his fault.

"I'm. Fine," you reiteratie. The light changes, the bright white of the walk sign flashes across the street. You go to pass him but his hands place themselves on your shoulders. "You really wanna get boiled alive on the train?" he asks with a smile, "You don't wanna take a car?" You sigh, why does he have to be so handsome? The gin from your last two drinks travels from your head to your thighs, pulling them together at the sight of his smile. He has that ratty vest on, a CBGC t-shirt sticking to him under it, the sleeves completely torn off. He smells like cedar and citrus again, a hint of a left over cigarette. His grays catch the light of the over head lamp, bouncing like tinsel in his pony tail sitting on the crown of his head. "Can we go to your house?" you ask, voice raised a higher octave than normal. His face blanches, "Aw honey, that's not a good idea. I don't want you to think that I --" "Please?"

"Thanks, have a good night," Eddie waves off the delivery man with a smile as he rides away on his bike. With plastic in hand he makes his way back up the stairs where you've set up shop on one of the stools in his kitchen, head down on the island counter.

"Food's here," he says quietly. Dealing with drunk you was very much like dealing with drunk Robin in the early 2010s, overgrown toddler in a bad mood. You let out a half hearted 'Yay', head coming up, eyes half closed in the kind of sleepiness a few mixed drinks and some beers can send you into. He goes into the fridge and pulls out two bottles of Poland Spring and a beer for himself. The waters get placed in front of you while he tends to getting the food plated up.

You ignore the water -- Blue Moon bottle staring right at you, and to be honest -- a cold cirtussy beer sounds sooo good right now. You reach forward, the glass ice cold against your palm now that the liquor has fully settled, heating up your skin. The sound of glass on the counter cobbles through the kitchen when you slide it closer to you, alerting Eddie to the noise.

“Excuse me,” he says sharply, snatching the bottle out of your hand, “Can you behave?”

You pout when his eyes narrow at you, heart thumping guiltily in your chest, shame brewing in your skin. You nod back at him with sad eyes, a twinge plucking in your heart strings.

“Don’t give me that face,” he warns, “Don't act up."

“I don’t like when you’re mean,” you mumble softly, running your fingers in shapes over the butcher's block counter top. He sighs, plating your sandwich and pulling your fries from the bag. He kisses your temple while he slides the plate in front of you. "I'm sorry, honey," he says quietly, but gin always puts you in the mood to argue. "You don't have to talk to me like, like -- you don't have to talk to me -hic!- like I'm a kid," you hurtle out, surprised at your own gumption, "I'm not."

"I know," he says, putting the bags into his recycling bin under the sink, "I'm not talking to you in any kind of way Peach I -- " "You don't even like me," you state. His head cocks to the side, leaning on his hands while they hold on to the edge of the island. "Who said that?" "I was -hic!- I was talking to someone at the bar about --" you start, lump building in your throat, "About you and um -- they said, they said it sounds like --" Your eyes water, "Like I'm just for fun." "Oh," he says, looking down at his hands. The weight of this conversation falling into his stomach from his chest like a deep pit.

"Like I'm just fun for you to play with -- but like, you don't even wanna have -- you don'even wanna h-have-have seggzwithme so like -- you don't even like me." More and more if your insecurities flow out of you like a broken faucet, tears starting to slip down your cheeks.

"And like you probably don't even think I'm pretty."

"Oh, baby, no," he coos, brows tilted in sympathy while you drunkenly let all your sober fears out, "I think you're so pretty."

"So pretty," you repeat, wiping your face with your hands, "But that's it."

Eddie takes a deep breath, coming over to you and pressing his warm soft lips to your cheek, "Let's talk about this in the morning, sweetheart. I'm gonna get upstairs ready for you."

"I should just go home," you sniffle, embarrassment starting to flow through you with your bloodstream, burning all your pores, "I'm sorry." "No, no, don't go home," he assures, nose nuzzling against your cheek, "Stay. Just stay."

He makes sure you eat, watching you come back to yourself the fuller and more hydrated you get. You're easy to lead upstairs, pliant and tired now, needy almost -- not that you'd ever admit to it. You tease him about his 'old man pills' when he takes out his perscription high dose Motrin he got for some old back pain. Great for when you might get a killer hangover these days. You grimace at the Pedialyte mixture he has you drink before you get tucked into his bed -- out before you can even feel him grab the pillows and a throw from the other side of you. He settles in downstairs on the sectional, sighing while he thinks about the way your face scrunches when you're about to cry. He flicks through his Hulu options on the big screen in front of him but nothing really seems to catch his attention. Mind wandering to you asleep upstairs but knowing better than to crawl into bed next to you when you're not yourself enough to say it's okay. The familiar buzz of his phone goes off on the coffee table, when he picks it up his face is on the front screen while someone calls in on FaceTime. "You're callin' late, man," Eddie grins lazily, socked feet sticking out to rest on the worn walnut table in front of him, "You okay?" "Yeah me and Bandit just got in from camping. Got some pics of him to send you, he's such a scamp." "You have fun?" he asks, rubbing his eyes. Eddie's voice is quiet while he speaks making Steve's head cock to the side. The lights changes on his face while he walks from the living room to his bedroom. "Yeah we had a lot of fun," Steve starts, "Why're you whispering?" "What do you mean?" Eddie asks, getting up off the couch to pad back into the kitchen. "You're talkin' all quiet," Steve smirks, "You got a girl over or something?" Ed puts his phone down and huffs while he grabs a bag of chips from the cabinet. Steve giggle, leaning his head in closer to the screen. "You do, don't you?" he guffaws, "Am I interrupting?" "She's sleeping," Eddie says softly, picking up the phone again and leaning against the counter. "Aw, so you ended up texting her back? Good."

"What the fuck? Who told you that?" Eddie's brows furrow, spitting through a mouthful of chips. "Robin, obviously." The light changes on him again while he makes his way to his own kitchen. Bandit's little pants and huffs echoing into the phone, "You think Nancy came up with the 'Hey pretty girl,' opening? She's never been a flirt."

"Well it worked so, congrats."

"Why didn't you tell me about her?" Steve pulls his own bag of chips out. They crunch together. "It just didn't seem right," he shrugs, "Y'know with Emma it's hard to be like, 'Hey I think I might actually see a future with this girl I've only been seeing for a few weeks.' Like, you just lost the love of your life."

"I'm not gonna be sad to hear that you're into someone, Ed," Steve smiles softly, voice calm, "Tell me about her."

So he does, he tells Steve about how he kept running into you that day at Trader Joe's and how he felt so stupid for not waiting at the doors for you but he was too scared. You were so cute in your bike shorts and sneakers, so careful in how you chose the fruit you were gonna get. When he saw you on the platform he knew it was like he was getting a second chance -- "Maybe Em thought you should stop being such a whore and sent her over," Steve laughs. Ed rolls his eyes but can't hold back his chuckle, watching as Steve rests his chin on the heel of his hand while he listens. Eddie talks about the picnic date, how he immediately felt comfortable telling you about his mom. The rain, the kiss in his apartment -- how he could've fucked you but didn't. How all your little dates had gone since.

"Oh so you like her," Steve nods.

"I'm scared," Eddie says quietly. "Scared?"

"What if it's just a fluke and I hurt her? Or I get hurt?" Eddie asks, "And like -- please don't take this the wrong way but like -- what if I put in all this effort and then lose her?"

"Like how I lost Em?"

Eddie nods slowly, not wanting to say the quiet part out loud. He talks about what you said when you got back to his place, how you think he doesn't really like you, how he doesn't think you're pretty. You're just for fun. "But this doesn't feel like 'just for fun', does it?" Steve challenges gently, "Cause if she was just for fun you would've texted me about if she could deep throat or not."

Eddie chuckles darkly, pink rising on his cheeks -- Steve chuckles too. Still gross boys who are gross.

"You should tell her how you feel," he encourages, "What's the worst that can happen?" "Everything."

"Okay," Steve shrugs, "I lost everything. And what happened?"

"We all came to pick you up." "Exactly. We'll be here to pick you up, too. Don't like..." Steve sighs, "Don't just immediately throw something away just because you're not used to it. The more you stand there and think about what you want, the less she's gonna think you want it."

"I know..." "So let her know you want it."

They talk for an hour, both cozied up on their respective couches -- Bandit immediately getting in the frame and yelping at Eddie's face on the screen. The seize in Eddie's chest loosens because maybe this could be okay. Now he just has to make sure you know it.

You wake up the next morning, groggy and dry -- but thankfully not nearly as hungover as you were expecting. Your joints hurt, your stomach's a little jumbled, but no headache and that's what matters the most. You shift in his crisp sheets, turning around to see that the bed is empty next to you -- pillows and throw blanket gone with him. You slept alone. You look at your phone on the bedside table next to a full bottle of water. You chug it while you check your notifications -- 6:11 AM. If anything was true, you always woke up too early when you drank too much the night before. The water sits heavy in your belly, pressing your bladder which was already screaming for you to go to the bathroom. With a sigh you stand up, and when you do, the embarrassment of the night before settles in. Your emotional hangover.

You pad to the bathroom and pee, seeing your face in the mirror like you did the night you got rained out. Your makeup is smeared, face a little bloated -- you do your best to wash it off. The cool water feels good against your skin, still hot from the liquor and dehydration. You pat your face dry and leave the bathroom, lingering at the top of the stairs where he's laying on the couch, already awake. "G'morning," you rasp out. He perks up, head tilting up to look at you from his place in the living room. "Morning, peach," he smiles, "You feelin' okay?"

You nod, ungracefully stomping down the metal steps of the spiral staircase while you get your footing, "Your old man pills must be magic or something."

Eddie pulls back the blanket, scooching back against the cushions to make room for you to lay down next to him, "C'mere, baby."

C'mere, baby runs down your spine, making your throat catch. You make your way towards the couch, crawling in next to him. The living room is quiet, with just some early morning sun pooling into the windows -- like you two are the only people awake on the street this morning. He covers you up, wasting no time wrapping himself around you and pulling you into him, "Did you sleep okay?"

"Yeah," you nod into his chest, the scent of his skin mixing with the faint smell of cirtus and cedar, "Did you?" "Normally I'm fine on the couch," he says, voice grizzly and sleepy, "But I didn't sleep a wink last night." "Oh, I'm sorry. I could've slept on the couch or I --" "No, it's not that," he shakes his head, catching your gaze, "Probably would've slept better if you were next to me." Your cheeks burn, a smile splittling across your face, "Well I'm here now."

"You are," he nods, leaning up to run his thumb over the apple of your cheek where a stray piece of glitter sits. Remnants of your makeup that you couldn't wash away.

"I'm um...sorry for how I acted last night," you confess, "That's not like -- that's not how I am."

"Don't be sorry," he assures quietly, "I understand." You're both quiet for a moment, the hum of the central air fuzzing the silence between you. "You're not just for fun, peach," he says, a seriousness to his normally playful voice, "I'm sorry I made you feel like that." "I um -- I'm sorry I kind of went a little insane," you shrug, feeling small, "I didn't mean to text all those times and then come here and cry and like --" "Stop apologizing," he says, thumb grazing your lower lip to stop you, "You were just feeling a way, that's okay. I get it." He takes his thumb away, leaning down to give you a kiss that sends you reeling. Warm and soft, delicate. His hands lead his arms around you again, smiling when you reach up to cup his cheek. "I like you," Eddie smirks against your mouth. "I like you, too," you smile when he breaks away. "The deli's open on the corner if you want me to run over and get a bacon, egg, and cheese," he offers quietly. "Why do I feel like you were gonna do that anyway?" you ask in the same tone. "I was," he grins again, "I just wanted to impress you by asking." He sits up, clamboring over you to get some coffee started so it'll be done by the time he gets back. You wait patiently for him, rolling your eyes while he shoves his socked feet in his slides, leaving the house in his pajamas of a t-shirt and black joggers. You prepare the coffees, feeling domestic like you live here -- getting used to where things are already.

He comes back twenty minutes later, sighing when the air conditioning hits him as the door opens, "It's already like, 80 degrees."

"Gross," you reply, face scrunching in the way that he likes, "Coffee is ready." "Oh, thank you." His eyes glitter at the gesture, seeing that you used the same mugs from when he had you over the first time. Those are his favorites, but you'll learn that eventually. The sandwhiches are tossed on the butcher block counter where you cried last night, but your embarrassment melts away when you feel him wrap himself around you again -- like he can't get enough. "I'm playing a show on Thursday at House of Yes," he says, "They're doing a metal theme'd night." "Yeah?" you ask, hands reaching for the plastic baggy and taking out both of your sadwhiches wrapped in foil. His arms still tight around your middle while you maneuver around your kitchen. "You should come," he asks, kissing the top of your head, "I'll get you a ticket."

"I don't know if that's really my scene," you shrug, twisting in his hold to face him, "I'm not like -- I'm not cool and underground like that." "So?" he quirks his brow, "You can be cool and underground for one night to hang out with your hottie rockstar boy-toy."

"That's so gross that you described yourself that way," you laugh, pushing out of his hug and opening your sandwhich, "Like, so cringey, babe." "Babe," he repeats back to you, "I like that. You can call me 'babe' whenever you want." "Duly noted," you agree, teeth sinking into the bread of the roll and breaking into the warm and gooey center. The jumble in your stomach starting to fade away while the grease of the egg soothes it. Eddie takes his sandwhich and coffee to the living room, taking his phone off the coffee table to open up his text conversation with Steve:

she called me babe.

i literally can't even breathe right now.

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #older!eddie munson #older!eddie #older!steve harrington #stranger things au #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic

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ordinaryxxgirl · 1 year

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@meltylxve asked: Leslie, you should pay respects to the woman who brought you into this world, don't you think~?

Pay respects...Leslie usually knew what that meant, knowing how hard her mother would get whenever she came over to visit. After all, she did owe her mother for quite a lot...So, it was only natural for her to gently smother the older woman’s throbbing cock with her breasts, tongue gliding over the actress’s lips as she planted a kiss on the tip. She could already feel her pussy getting wetter by the minute, hips slowly rocking as she began to gently engulf the other’s cock in her mouth.

When had she started engaging in these forbidden acts with Stacy, again...? She couldn’t really remember...Sure, the other was her own mother, but at some point they’d started casually fucking like this, the older woman’s musky cock overwhelming her thoughts whenever they engaged in these acts together. And, as time went on...Leslie began to enjoy it, more and more. Sure, she wasn’t exactly willing to go to the point of having a relationship with her own mother, but at some point after they’d begun these acts...She’d gotten completely comfortable with helping her mother get off, her throat relaxing as she moved her head up and down whist slurping on the shaft hungrily.

...A part of her hoped Stacy came soon, that way they could get to the real reason they indulged in these acts together. But, until her mother did cum...She’d happily give her the best titjob she could manage, deciding to brush her erect nipples against the older woman’s throbbing prick as she pushed her head down as far as she could go with her breasts in the way.

#{Promiscuous Actress | Leslie}#meltylxve #{Incest TW}#{Nothing Minors Should Witness | NSFW}

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konigsblog · 7 months

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༉‧₊˚. stepdad!könig thots ...

tw: stepcest, somnophillia, non-con/rape, dumbification, forced self degrading, degrading, cheating, daddy kink, college!reader...

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note: stepdad!könig drives me crazy :'3

not proofread, pls correct errors or point them out in the cmmts :) comments and reblogs are appreciated !!!

Your stepfather is a cruel, strict man. He expects the best of the best from you. You're his little princess, he hates punishing you, but god, the way his thick cock gets all hard when he see's that pretty, upset expression. Perhaps it's your tears, or perhaps it's the way he fantasies about rutting into you while you're mother is away at work.

He knows he's horrible for it, a total and complete jerk for going behind your mother's back—and yours too. When he see's you asleep on your bed, with textbooks and websites on your computer open for the exam next morning, he can't help but twitch, his breath hitching in his throat at the opportunities infront of him. “Meine Gott...” he chuckles, palming himself through his jeans before taking a step closer.

Through your baggy pjama shorts, he can see your thin, white panties. It drives him crazy, and you have to believe him when he says that it's not just fault—and if anything, it's yours for being so scandalous or promiscuous around a man like him. You're filthy, aren't you?

He slowly pulls your shorts down, taking them off of your unconscious figure. He rubs his weeping tip between your slit over your panties until they're transparent with your sweet cum. “Don't move, prinzessin.” König growls out under his breath, moving your panties to the side to slip his bulbous, wet cock into your tight hole. “Oh, you naughty girl-Hah...” he breathes out, smacking your ass painfully to your surprise.

It shocks you awake, your head stirring, dizzy and confused after waking up from a nap in this setting. König's large hand grips your hair tightly, pushing it down against your book as he begins rutting into you. Not giving you a second to adjust to his size, he begins thrusting erratically. It's painful, burning between your soft thighs at the force of his big dick into your wetness. “Ow—stop--!!” you plead, gripping your bedsheets tightly as he begins going harder, one hand on your hip and pounding into you restlessly.

“Don't try me, Puppe. You've been dreaming of this, ja? Wearing such short shorts and expecting not to be touched like this.” his hand goes underneath your body cupping and grabbing your by the pussy while his thumb runs over your clit, rubbing it in circles. “König—No!” you squirm, panicking as he rams into your cunt over and over again! To say it's not sore is a lie, and you quickly begin to feel lightheaded from the ache between your thighs.

His veiny, hard shaft rubs against your gummy walls. Veins lugging and dragging against your walls while you pulse around him uncontrollably! “Look at you—call yourself a slut, because that's all you are!” he grumbles out, smacking your ass painfully, earning him a broken sob. “I-I'm a slut...”—“For who?” König cuts you off, making you weep harder. It's the way your cunt squeezes and drools around his huge dick, in a way that only drives him crazy.

“You...” it doesn't help that you're so depraved and desperate for praise that you'll do—almost—anything for praise, especially from your stepfather. A guttural chuckle leaves his lips, smacking your ass again, causing it to ache. “That's right, a slut for your daddy. A dumb one, at that.” König makes you shudder and throb around him, repeating his words over and over again as he fucks you raw and dumb.

“A dumb whore for me.” you plead for gentleness, but you're met with a rough and painful—yet deserved—fucking. It's all your worth around your stepfather as he pumps and drives his achingly hard dick into your swollen folds like you're a fleshlight and nothing more than that. Your pussy begins spamming around him, an irresistible urge you can't help. Tears soaked the pages of the textbook infront of you, and your voice is hoarse from a screaming.

“What are you, mäuschen?” König asks as slows down his pace, broad hips meeting your ass, holding it there. “Were you listening? You're a dumb, dumb fucktoy for me to use. Say it.” when he picks up his ruthless pace, you're almost silenced. Raping you like you're worth a penny—not even that. “I'm a dumb fucktoy for you to use...” you say through exhaustion, breathless.

Your orgasm draws closer with each thrust. White, hot, and sticky release pulls you closer and closer to euphoria. That burning, rupturing feeling in your stomach pulling at your orgasm causing you to whine out. “Please, daddy, I just want to cum...” you beg, gasping when König pulls you by your hair, forcing your back to his chest and your back arched. König is hunched over, his lips beside yours as he degrades you. “Go on, work for it.”

You're so numb that you didn't even notice how he'd stopped moving. Bouncing your ass back, a mewl leaving your lips, before you bite your bottom, quivering lip. Your ass aches from his spankings, and you're too far gone to even think of what your mother would think...

Squeezing around his thick, meaty shaft as you fuck yourself back onto his wet cock. You pulse around him, your hands pulled behind your back. You stutter, shuddering as you cream around him, pussy drenched with your cum. You cry out, shaking and trembling. König pushes you down against the bed harshly, pushing you onto your side and lifting your leg up into the air. He ploughs into your raw hole over and over again while you whimper and cry.

White, hot release drips from his cock as he spurts ropes and ropes of his cum into you. Dumping a load into your walls before pulling out. He lets out a low grumble, balls coated in cum and slick. You're half passed out from the aggression forced onto you.

Left with wet cheeks, a sore cunny and your stepfather's thick cum oozing down your thighs.

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