#and he'd go along with it???????????????????????????????????????????)

[unriding]

TRYING TO TAKE YOU HOME WHEN YOU DON’T RECOGNIZE THEM. ft. dan heng, jing yuan, mydei, phainon, and sunday.

sfw. f!reader. in which the hsr men try their best to convince you that they really are your boyfriend and not a complete stranger trying to take you back home after a long night out.

cw for implied alcohol consumption. not mentioned otherwise — just the silly scenario where reader seemingly doesn’t recognize them upon first glance. prompt from anon on prev blog! fem!reader for all.

— DAN HENG.

He wonders if this was truly the best course of action.

“Give me back my jacket, you jerk...” your words come out slurred, barely mustering the strength needed to keep your hold on his sleeve as you trail behind him down the street.

His jacket — he'd usually correct you — but he doesn't this time, lest you eventually come to the conclusion that the mentioned jacket isn't even yours and therefore holds no importance.

“Soon. The agreement we settled on was that if you don't make a scene, I'll give it back.”

It sounds like a threat.

And if someone were to spot him now, this would certainly paint his image in a light that he would much rather not be perceived in, if given the choice.

He knows this all too well — apparent from the nervous sweat collecting along his temples and the frequent clearing of his throat whenever your grip begins to loosen, but you seem to only giggle at the statement now, eagerly nodding along.

“Really? You pinkie promise, stranger? I'll be reaaall quiet then.”

“Yes,” his brows furrow — from either stress or a sense of urgency that you don't seem to have, “I give you my word. So, please, keep your voice down and follow me.”

You respond with a cheerful hum before eventually falling silent again, the street quiet aside from the patter of your clumsy footsteps following closely behind his own.

Though it’s short-lived, much to Dan Heng’s misery.

Only about a minute or two goes by until you start to tug on his sleeve, and his heart nearly stops beating in his chest. Perhaps you’ve already realized. Or perhaps you’ve pegged him as a dangerous type of guy — which wouldn’t surprise him, given the circumstances.

“Hey…” you tug once more, even harder now, and then stop walking entirely — shifting your weight backwards to avoid being pulled straight into him.

Uh oh.

“Hey.... stranger?” You're mumbling now, eyes locked on the floor, and his breath is stuck in his throat.

“I'm sleepy.”

“You.. you want to sleep,” He repeats, still uncertain — his words coming off a bit too similar to that of a question. “Right now?”

You nod, hands coming to rub at your eyes, as if doing so could wipe away the sudden wave of drowsiness that has overtaken you. Though, your efforts prove to be futile in the end, with each blink becoming slower than the last.

“Yes,” you murmur, “Here. I'm going to nap … and then .. and then I need to find my boyfriend.”

Boyfriend. A part of him is relieved you remember, at least. Perhaps the other critical piece of information will find its way back to you soon as well.

Your eyes flutter back open when something familiar is draped across your shoulders. “Don't sleep here.”

“Here,” he turns around, lowering himself onto a knee to gesture for you to climb on. “I'll take you to your boyfriend.”

— JING YUAN.

“My boyfriend taught me how to fight, so don’t you even dare.”

He blinks, once, twice — the hand gently patting your head a moment ago now entirely frozen in place. “Oh?”

It makes sense as soon as you turn to glare at him. While he’s rather certain he hasn’t done anything to warrant such a look, another part of him — his heart, skips a happy beat over how adorable you look, even if you’re not smiling at him like usual.

“I see,” Jing Yuan continues again, only a moment later, taking a seat beside you (and choosing to ignore the way you make the conscious effort to scoot an inch away from him). Sassily so, he might add, similar to the way you so endearingly turn your body away from him and puff your cheek out when he’s teased you just a bit too much for your liking.

His hand finds its way back to you again, slower this time — traces over your cheek until he gently cups it in an effort to feel the warmth radiating from your skin. A chuckle almost betrays him and slips out at the sight of your eyes nearly fluttering shut, subconsciously leaning into his touch until you abruptly come back to your senses and swat at his hand.

He smiles at you. “Hm. Your boyfriend — is that right?”

Your eyes narrow at the amusement in his voice, likely wondering why a stranger would be speaking to you so familiarly. “My boyfriend. The one with a suuuper heavy weapon that …. that you probably couldn’t pick up … with help.”

“Ah, how admirable he must be. You have no need for worry — I would never dream of wielding such a weapon.”

You huff before deciding to face the opposite direction, all whilst scooting a secondary inch away from him. Perhaps a third, for extra measure.

“This boyfriend of yours,” he speaks again, holding back a chuckle when you dramatically sigh at the sound of his voice once again, “surely he wouldn’t mind someone like myself keeping you company until he returns, wouldn’t you think?”

“I have grown quite curious. Perhaps he would allow me to see this impressive weapon for myself.”

— MYDEI.

“Actually, you’re rather comfy, stranger.”

Mydei only huffs in response before glancing over his shoulder from where you’re draped over his left like a sack of potatoes, quickly confirming that … as of now, you still seem content, at least.

“I’ve told you before. I’m no stranger.” The singular arm currently holding your thighs to his chest tightens, and you only giggle against his back, arms freely dangling beneath you. “Yeah, yeah.”

You’ve been surprisingly cooperative. In fact, he thinks he should make a mental note to remind you about being less trusting of strangers tomorrow — because .. surely, it should not have been so easy to convince you that he could simply carry you to your ‘boyfriend.’

Even now, when he’s seemingly been reduced to nothing aside from a mere stranger, you’re as inviting and friendly to him as ever — mumbling something about his strength, followed by a worried “Hey but — let me know if you get tired or anything, okay?”

So, he lets you talk, opting to silently listen to you ramble on about your day (aside from the occasional glances over his shoulder to check on you). It’s only when he hears a sudden shift in your voice that he stiffens.

“Say…” you start, drawing patterns along his back with a finger, as if nervous about his response. “Do you think Mydei’s worried?”

“I don’t want to worry him,” he lets you continue, eyes shifting back to the path ahead of him. “What do you think, strong stranger? He won’t be mad, right? Or sad, maybe?”

He huffs. “No. He wouldn’t be mad. Not at you.”

— PHAINON.

“Oh.” You hug your knees in disappointment to let out another heavy sigh, one far too telling of your emotions — practically seeping back into your lonely puddle when you realize that this person who had found you in your corner was also in fact… not your boyfriend.

“‘Oh?’ Well, someone doesn’t sound very excited to see me.”

The stranger decides to approach you anyway, taking a seat on the tiles beside you before letting out an exhale himself, back of his head coming to lightly rest against the wall. “What’s on your mind?”

“Hmph,” you leer at him from where your head is halfway buried in your arms, knees hugged tightly against your chest. “I wanted to see my boyfriend, not some random person. I’m tired, y’know.”

“Your boyfriend? How strange.” The confusion starts to leave his face the longer he looks at you — lips curling ever so slightly at the idea that suddenly comes to mind.

“He must be cruel … to leave you here all by yourself.”

He almost slips and calls you cute when you stick an arm out to weakly jab a finger into his shoulder, turning your head to the side again to mutter a “Hey. He’s not cruel.”

Truly too cute — the way your eyes have narrowed into something resembling a glare — the same one you always give him whenever you scold him for being too careless. Though, it tends to fade as soon as it comes, replaced with soft kisses against the crown of his head as you lull him back to sleep.

“Aw,” He’s smiling now, “You’re certain he’s not cruel?”

“Obviously I’m certain,” You huff, ignoring the way he seems to look happier at this and hugging your knees even tighter against your chest. “I like being around him. A whole lot, actually.”

The way his eyes begin to soften at your (unintentional) affection most definitely wouldn’t go unnoticed by you, he’s sure, nor the way his hand twitches — wanting nothing but to extend in your direction to pull you in for a hug. Though, luckily enough for him, you’ve settled on resting your head in the comfort of your own arms again, oblivious to the lovesick one seated beside you.

“I’ll make sure to tell him again … when I see him. So let me be, you weird stranger.”

— SUNDAY.

If someone happened to be wondering whether a halovian’s wings flap awkwardly when rendered completely speechless — this would be their golden opportunity to witness it firsthand.

“M-my apologies,” his wings flutter again, then a third time when your hand only tightens around his wrist, eyes narrowing at him in suspicion. “Please excuse me. I was only checking for your temperature, since you seem to be rather…”

“No.” You don’t let go. In fact, you hold onto him as if you’ve just now captured a crook attempting to steal March’s snacks.

“..Forgive me,” his eyes flicker from your hand to your eyes — then back to your hand. As if there may be a slim chance that you’ve simply forgotten about the ironclad grip on his wrist and would release him from his confinement, soon. Surely. “Then perhaps I should go get you a glass of wa—”

“No.”

“…”

“I… I see.” The nervous flutter of his wings shifts to something more sheepish — one wing moving to cover his mouth, as if deep in thought. Which wouldn’t be far from the truth, for even someone such as himself is left dumbfounded by your current behavior. “Then.. is there anything you’d like for me to help with? Someone like March may be better suited for..”

“My boyfriend…” he falls silent as soon as you speak, noting the softness of your words now — barely above a hushed whisper (though the familiarity has him quickly perking up in response). “I want my boyfriend.”

His head tilts at this. Subtly. Truly confused — and even more so when your brows furrow only a second later, followed by a tug on his wrist. “I want my boyfriend.”

“You’re stuck with me until we find my boyfriend.”

[the-dragon-hearted]

One of my favorite underlying messages in Epic is that Odysseus never changed. From the beginning, he made it clear that Penelope and Telemachus were his priority. Above his morals, his values, and all else. He throws the baby off the roof in the second song which is arguably the worst thing he did IN THE WHOLE MUSICAL. Why? Because the actual gods came down and said: if you don't your family is going to die and it will be your fault.

Odysseus committed the worst crime of his life far before he believed he was the monster. Everything after that was justifiable.

He can blame the infant on the gods. He can blame Polites on the Cyclops. But the more he lost, the more he discovered he was willing to lose. It becomes clear he was always willing to lose it all for his family, 600 men dead does not change his goal: Making it home alive. It was never a question of priorities, it was a question of how far would the world push him? How much would he have to lose before the world figured out he'd give it all away?

His sanity. His innocence. Every ounce of mercy. Everything except his wife and boy.

Maybe the only person surprised by it was Odysseus. The only person horrified by it all is Ody. Penelope isn't shaken by what he's done, but rather at his audacity. "What do you mean you're not the same person? You're my husband, you're mine. I'm yours. This is the lengths we go for love, we wouldn't have it any other way!" Because that is who Ody has always been to her. That is why she waited twenty years for him, because she knew that was who he was. That was who they were to each other. No, it doesn't surprise her! It's why she loves him!

And Telemachus? The guy sees his father in action with stars in his eyes because this is the avenger, the protector, the reason he dreams of fighting monsters. You think he feared the man slaughtering the suitors? Odysseus was fifteen years too late to scare away the monsters under his bed, but he made up for it by killing monsters who were far worse. Telemachus saw the fierce warrior his mother fell in love with melt when the battle was done. He heard the words: "Sweetest joy I've known" and never questioned the truth. Because that is exactly who he expected his father to be. Love. Above all else and despite all else. Love.

Not to say Ody was a monster all along, but... yeah. He did not change. He's no more monster at the end of the story than he was in the beginning. End-game Odysseus is just Horse and Infant Odysseus who faces his actions with total acceptance.

It's no longer: I had to

It's: I did

I killed the sirens. I sacrificed my men. I tortured Poseidon. I murdered the suitors. I killed Astyanax.

And I'd do it again if it meant I'd get home. I'd do it over and over again, for them.

[themultifanshipper]

"It's yours"

"I got you a present" he said...

This was his special PR day in Maranello, and yet he got you a present.

You were expecting a bag, or a piece of jewellery or something.

Not a fucking Ferrari.

He was amused, cup of tea in hand as he watched you run around the cars on display, trying to decide which one you wanted.

"Remember the seats need to be big enough!" He called out.

You blushed and walked away sadly from the convertible you'd been ogling.

"Big enough for what?" Fred asked, and Lewis didn't answer, just peered at him from over the rim of his cup as he took an inconspicuous sip.

Fred chuckled and walked out, already tired of the shenanigans he knew were going to be inevitable with the two of you around.

Lewis set his cup down and walked up behind you, hands going to squeeze your hips possessively.

"You like this one?" he purred into your ear.

You nodded, fingers trailing along the red paint of the F40 he'd done the shooting with that morning.

"The seats are leather, easy to clean" you bit your lip in excitement.

He chuckled, pressing you up against the cool surface. You could feel him poking at your ass through his slacks.

The two of you were completely alone.

"Then I guess we need to break it in. Now."

Gif Blurb Masterlist

[lemon-berri]

Perfume

Gojo Satoru has been standing in a perfume shop for the better part of half an hour now, looking for a specific bottle. He carefully scans the shelves, cerulean eyes searching through the different labels carefully, and still he can't find it. A pout crosses his face, and he hums in dissatisfaction. Maybe they've stopped selling it? Surely not...

"Hi sir! Can I help you find something?" The sound of a shop assistant interrupts his thoughts, and he turns to find an older lady in a store uniform, smiling up at him. She'd noticed him from afar, the tall man carrying a bouquet three times the size of his head in one arm and about a dozen gift bags in the other- he was hard to miss. Now, her gaze lands on the golden band on the ring finger of his left hand, and she attempts to connect the dots. "Is it an anniversary?"

Satoru shakes his head, a proud grin replacing his earlier pout. "Nah, I don't need a special occasion to surprise my wife - though I have forgotten the name of her favourite perfume..."

"It happens all the time!" The lady reassures him. "Could you describe the scent?"

Satoru hums. "Well... its like... watching the sunset, or being embraced by warmth, or thousands of compliments, and butterflies in your stomach.."

"I..." The shop assistant nods along, trying to help despite the fact that he's describing concepts rather than scents. Not to mention he isn't making much sense.

"Wait- actually I think I have a picture." Satoru takes his phone out and the shop assistant visibly relaxes. She takes one look at the picture he shows her, already knowing where to find the particular bottle. "She has good taste.."

"Don't I know it." Satoru grins more. He purchases the bottle, watching as the shop assistant carefully wraps it and places it in a gift bag with a nice little bow. He thanks the lady before leaving the shop, satisfied with the amount of gifts he's purchased today.

The sun is already low in the sky, and day will soon turn to night, but Satoru's day is far from over. He walks with a bounce in his step, whistling to himself and earning the attention of everyone who passes him by. But he doesn't pay them any mind, he's on a mission after all. The one he loves is waiting.

This route is familiar to him, so he isn't paying much attention. His mind replays the days events instead, from teaching classes to fighting curses, to his impromptu shopping trip. Around him, blossoms have started to grow on the trees. It'll be spring soon, longer days and warmer weather, a sign of new begins and good things to come.. right?

Its dusk by the time he reaches the room.

"Hey Angel, I'm sorry I took so long today."

He places the huge bouquet of flowers in a vase on the windowsill, next to the many other floral arrangements he's bought this week- it's starting to look like a florist shop in here, but you've always liked flowers so he doesn't care much. The more the better.

"You'll never believe what happened today. Get this, I walked into class, ready to teach the first years. Only they weren't there. Turns out all of them overslept." He chuckles, taking a seat. He places the various gift bags next to the chair. "I guess it's not too surprising, given there's only three of them. But it was funny listening to the three of them running down the hallway..."

But he gets no response. You're laying on the bed in front of him, resplendent as a painting, bathed in the golden light from the window. Like a sleeping doll. Just within reach yet so far away.

It has been two months. Two months since he'd heard your voice, or seen you look up at him with those pretty eyes of yours. Two months since you had been sent on a mission against that strange cursed spirit, only to go missing for two days, and when they'd found you.. you'd looked just like this. Completely unharmed but unresponsive. Not a scratch on your frame, but refusing to wake up.

Nobody knew what had happened to you. And the cursed spirit had vanished. Perhaps you'd exorcised it. After all it's not natural for a curse to leave a victim unharmed and flee, especially without a trace. But then why weren't you waking up?

He was told talking to you would help. So that's what he does. It's all he can do.

"They opened a new bakery near our place. Thought I think I'll wait for you, so we can go together. Don't make me wait too long, yeah?"

Satoru comes every day, as evidenced by all the flowers and cards and gifts. When you wake up, he wants you to be surrounded by things you love, things that make you happy. You've always loved flowers.

If he's not here, or working, he spends every free moment trying to track down the curse. Or figure out what happened, some way to bring you back. Goodness knows he's tried it all.

He watches the gentle rise and fall of your chest, reminding himself you're still alive. At least some part of you is still here, with him.

"You know.." his expression relaxes, eyes finally showing the sadness he's so desperately been trying to hide. "It's hard without you. The students miss you, and I do too, we're all worried about you..." he sighs.

"But don't worry about that, okay? Focus on getting better. Come back to me."

Satoru spends a few more hours here, telling you about his day, making a few jokes here and there, and filling you into the most recent episodes of the show you love. His voice fills the quiet room, and he tries to imagine what you might say if you were awake.

It's early morning by the time he leaves reluctantly, but work will start up again soon, and he has to get at least some sleep because he knows you'd be mad if you knew he wasn't resting. He leaves the gifts by your bedside. All except one bag, the small one with the little bow on the top. That one was actually a present for him.

Later, when he gets home, he'll spray a little on your side of the bed. That way, at least you'll appear in his dreams.

Seasonal depression has hit me like a truck this year. So now everyone else must suffer too. 😈

Pt 2

I hope you all enjoyed the angst! As usual this is not proofread, please don't point out my mistakes I'll cry.

Thank you for reading 🩵

Banners by @bunnysrph

[the-modern-typewriter]

hey , I've been in love with your writing ever since I came across your blog , will you please write about a very intimidating villian who decides to kidnap the hero because he finds him cute when he is absolutely afraid of him

"The man who isn't afraid of anything," the villain mused. He trailed the edge of a blade along the hero's cheek, capturing a silent tear upon the tip. "Look at you now."

"Whatever it is that you want from me, whatever you want to know-"

"-Shh."

The hero's mouth snapped shut.

The villain smiled, crooked with an illusion of wholesome boyishness at the corner.

"You talk when I ask you a question, cutie," the villain said. "The only other sound I want to hear from you otherwise is whimpers. That was your one warning. Nod if you understand?"

Of course, the hero couldn't comfortably nod with a sharp knife against their face; not without digging the blade into suddenly soft skin.

The villain raised an eyebrow.

The hero nodded, very slightly, but even that tiny movement caused the blade tip to dig in. A small bead of blood formed on their perfect features, trickling down towards their jaw. The hero's breath hitched.

The villain's smile grew. "Good boy."

The hero shuddered, one of those whimpers all too ready and startled on his tongue. His eyes were all wide and pretty filled with an animal panic.

The villain reached out a hand, smoothing his palm along the hero's chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall, the desperate thumping of his heart like the sweetest melody.

The hero's eyes flinched shut. He trembled in his restraints.

The hero was not, it was true, a man frightened of many things. His abilities left him invulnerable to everything. Well, almost everything, as they had found. The villain's particular gift was to suck away the powers of anyone around him by virtue of his mere presence. The expression on the hero's face when he realised he'd gone from unstoppable god to just a man, to just like everyone else...

Well. It was adorable. The villain had always liked to collect adorable things.

"Please," the hero whispered, like he just couldn't help himself. The once powerful often couldn't.

"Was that a question, my dove?"

"Just let me go. I didn't - I'm sorry I came after you - I didn't - I thought -"

"You thought you could win?" The villain's voice was oh so sweet.

The hero flinched again. He met the villain's gaze and gave another frantic nod as the villain's blade moved on, caressing down their chest to meet the villain's free hand.

"That was stupid, wasn't it? What a silly goose you are."

A delicious, impotent fury flashed through the hero's eyes.

The villain dug the blade in. It was barely even a scratch, but a scratch could be a terrible thing to a man who had never had the privilege of being hurt before, knowing only that it could get much worse.

The fury was entirely drowned out by terror again.

The villain made a show of sighing. "You'll tell me everything?"

"I - what? Yes."

"You'd hand your friends over on a platter? Everyone counting on you?"

The hero's jaw clenched with anguish.

"Hm?" the villain pressed. "Would you hand them all over in exchange for me letting you go?"

"Yes." It was barely above a whisper.

"Go on then."

He let the hero bluster and ramble, trying to tuck away details and secrets, trying to stall, trying to do anything he could to win like he still hadn't quite learned. The villain nodded diligently along, devouring it all.

The hero eventually stuttered to a halt.

The villain waited a beat. The he stabbed the knife gently into the hero's hand.

The hero screamed. Confusion and outrage and guilt joined the terror. There was no longer a single tear, but a flood of them.

Cute, cute, cute.

The villain leaned in, knife moving fast to tilt the hero's head.

"I didn't take you for information," he confessed. "I just took you."

The hero stared at him, almost uncomprehending, eyes glassy. "But - I - what do you want from me"?

The villain pressed a kiss to the hero's nose.

"Nothing."

The hero whimpered again. Just pathetic.

"There's literally nothing you can do to make you let you go, sweetheart," the villain said, in the same confiding tone of voice. "I'm not going to."

The hero shook his head. He seemed to be having difficulty breathing properly. He was reaching the overwhelmed stage of fear, wasn't he? Not the villain's favourite, but a delight nonetheless.

The villain patted the hero's cheek, tender comfort, and stroked his hair. He pulled the hero a little closer, cooing in his ear. He gave him a moment to relax, instincts all disorientated and craving something lovely. He waited until the hero had struggled his breathing back under control, trying oh so hard to be brave. Then.

"You're going to die here, my little love," the villain said. "Now. What should we do about you speaking out of turn?"

[radioiaci]

He did not have faith in his ability to hold a conversation as he searched, coming across the edge of the bayou proper where he paused to try to orient himself once again. If he remembered right, following the water's edge up about a half mile should put him exactly where they needed to be -

The feeling of Vox's body pressed up against him in a hurry brought him out of his momentary navigational trance, reaching to grab at one of Vox's limbs in exchange to keep him from toppling over entirely.

"Managing okay? It's not far now," he said, hoping that it would bring the other some reprieve. Clearly, he was struggling. And though Alastor knew that there was likely some judgment hiding there too for where this house must be hidden in such a place, he chose not to acknowledge it.

Instead of releasing Vox entirely, he shifted to take the man's hand and keep it in his own grasp - not tightly, in case the other preferred to help himself along the bank, but enough to provide some sort of guidance so that he did not slip and fall into the actual water. Murky as it was, there was no telling what lay beneath the surface. Alligators, water moccasins, snapping turtles. None of which Vox likely wanted to come across or encounter.

And it would be a shame to get that cute sweater ruined, he thought.

Indeed, half a mile up is where Alastor began to slow, able to finally take stock of exactly where he was and exactly what he'd been looking for which lay only several hundred yards to the north, settled along the edge of the water in its poor, dilapidated state: An old, impossibly small wooden home, its back balcony constructed slightly over the water so as to create a pseudo-dock. For fishing or some such, one might presume.

But the house itself was in no livable state. Old, worn, with breaks in the wooden slats and plant-life emerging from it all around. In fact, it was nearly half-hidden in reeds, and there was the briefest appearance of a small gaggle of doe who lifted their heads at the approach and scattered off into the remaining marshland.

Alastor said nothing, but he paused. Hesitating to go closer.

Even as Alastor got out of the car and Vox slowly followed, he was uncharacteristically quiet. His mouth held open slightly as he looked around like he had never seen a tree in his life. He locked the car.. and the beep the car made seemed to ricochet off the fog that hung over the ground and above the spotty dark colored puddles that seemed big enough to be lakes. Somehow despite their size, they still seemed to resemble puddles more to him.

It felt like Alastor’s pocket dimension, in his room. The man really did love this environment. He must.

Vox knew that the conditions of this must not be alarming to his companion, but by the time he found undeniably safe and dry and firm footing to move around the car- the other was walking along unbothered.

He moved after him, quickly discovering that even though some places looked unstable, the shadows weren’t always shadows. Sometimes it was just.. dried mud and perfectly solid. The tv hurried to catch up with the other before he got too far.

There was more fog in the space in the hotel- but he imagined there needed to be to keep up the illusion of space. Unless it truly was.. that huge. Maybe someone could get lost in there.

And then Alastor was leaving the semblance of their meager pathway entirely.

“..fuckme..” Vox breathed quietly as he resigned to follow Alastor. Despite his guide going at a leisurely pace (to him) and throwing glances back to check on him, it felt like they were going entirely faster than he would be able to go.

At once point he stepped on something that he would have sworn was a stick in his haste, but it moved beneath him and slithered away like a dart.

Vox caught his gasp in his throat and hurried to move his foot again, afraid to get bit. And hurried right into Alastor’s back. He grunted softly and grabbed at the others arm to keep his balance.

[sayangrafayel]

Him reacting to you SCREAMING while watching an idol (be it J-POP, K-POP, or any singer at all)

Another good and (something I wanted to do) request! The anon asked for their reaction to you SCREAMING. Emphasis on screaming and going crazy over idols. Enjoy!

Sylus, Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Caleb.

Sylus

As soon as he heard your screams, he IMMEDIATELY rushed to you.

"SWEETIE, WHAT HAPPENED? ARE YOU OKAY?" "Yes!!! I'm just so...! LOOK AT THEM SY, THEY ARE SO COOL. AAAAH."

He turns his attention at your screen and furrows his eyebrows! How dare! He can sing and dance like that too, you know?

Starts singing along and you would lose focus, because now your 6'2" boyfriend is in the room stumbling and singing off key. But holy hell, you love him for it. What a dork.

Xavier

Is currently watching the same thing with you.

"I don't understand.. how are they so energetic?" "BECAUSE THEY ARE THE BEEEEST! MY POOKIE!" "But I thought I was your pookie.. 🥺"

At first he was jealous someone else got your attention that much, but the thought that he's the one who gets to hold you every time he please soothes him.

You absolutely made him dress up as your idol at least ONCE. Your boyfriend's pretty face cannot go to waste! You even suggested that he could be an idol if he wanted to. He didn't like it though... he just wants to be your Xavier, not anyone else's, not even as an idol.

Rafayel

He's painting on that giant canvas of his while you sit on his couch and watch your idol, you suddenly screamed and it shocked him.

"Ouchie! My poor fishie ears!" "I'm so sorry my dear, but LOOK. LOOK AT THEEEEM." "No, thank you. You know, Sylus should definitely audition to become one of those idols. It would be so funny to watch him stumble all over the stage." (Sorry I had to slip in my dynamic duo, I MISS THEM)

You would laugh of course, you love their friendship too "Rafayel, you are one cruel fishie. But you are so right!"

He would continue to paint while you continue to fangirl over your idol. He wouldn't trade this for the world.

Zayne

Like Raf, he was working on his laptop while you watch the tv and fangirl.

Turns his head to you and the tv once in awhile just to make sure you don't damage your vocal cord..

Of course he is supportive of your hobby! BUT HE IS SO SASSY ABOUT IT THOUGH.

"Raw, next question! You know what I mean Zayne!?" "No, I do not. I am a Doctor who works many hours a week and I have a real life ungrateful girlfriend to spoil."

Caleb

This one is quite hard to read. He either goes crazy with you or gets jealous. It depends on the day.

He'd take you swooning over some idol rather than another person in your life any day though.

You screaming? He's used to it. Plus, he loves how passionate you are when it comes to the things you love.

Deep down he knows you just adore your idol! You have since you both were kids! But sometimes he gets jealous okay!! But makes up for it by buying you their merch and all.

"Your idol is having a concert in three months, should we go?" "CAN WE, PLEAAAASE?" "As long as you love me the most!" ruffles your hair.

[star2fishmeg]

luke noticing how obsessed you are with him and jeans and making you get yourself off on his denim clad thigh, staring at the damp patch you leave behind

Luke doesn't wear his jeans too often, but whenever he does, you salivate at the sight. It wasn't just how they suited him so well that got your tummy flipping; the process of watching him tug them up his legs and belt and un-belt them around his hips draws your eyes in sinfully. Watching him take them off is just as enjoyable, and he knows you love it when he walks around shirtless, jeans hanging off his hips with his boxers peeking out the top.

"Fuck, baby," he grins, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and leaning back on his hands, eyes locked on how you're humping his jean-clad thigh, bare pussy grinding against the fabric, "look at you, falling apart on me like this."

You tilt your head back, eyes closed, and mouth hung open, releasing airy whines into the air as the jean rubs against your sopping folds, clit brushing and making your tummy tingle with warmth surging through your body, desire and desperation setting wildfires over your skin and into your system. He's such a tease, sitting there, abs tensed, fly open and button undone, letting his bulge taunt you as you're pleasuring yourself on his thigh. Luke's enjoying it with pink cheeks, and you know he's scanning your figure, the way your breasts bounce, and hips roll against him. He's obsessed with it and never wants you to stop.

His palm clasps your breast, massaging and rolling his thumb over your nipple, relishing the staggered whimpers that fall off your tongue with a smirk across his lips, "Now I know this is how you feel about my jeans, I'll wear them more often."

"Touch me, Luke, please!" you moan profoundly, head lulling into your shoulder. You grip the hand that's groping your breast, holding it firmly into you and he doesn't seem to mind for a few seconds, you know Luke can't go a day without them.

"Mm, nah." He smirks with a glint of mischief in his eyes, and he pulls his hand away, setting it on his cock instead, palming himself as you roll your hips along his thigh with a maddening appetite twisting in your stomach, "You seem to be doin' just fine on your own, angel. Look at the mess you're making."

He licks his lips at the sight of you; the way your mouth falls open with fumbling, incoherent sentences and high-pitched whines, calling out for him as your folds smear arousal over his jeans, the fabric darkening beneath you and he'd never admit it but the warm feeling against his thigh has his adrenaline pumping. You feel his muscles tense beneath you, against your nerves and suddenly the solid pressure against your clit coaxes an elongated moan to erupt from you, reverberating through your chest as you rut your hips faster.

The euphoria releases the chokehold on you when his thigh becomes softer again, your eyes opening with sombre at him, pleading, begging, your fingers finding your clit and circling desperately.

"Fuck- do that again," you beg, your climax crawling closer, "Lu-uke! Stop teasing, I need you, please touch me, please."

"And if I don't?" His cock aches, twitches the more he palms himself.

You slide your hand away from your bud over to the hand on his cock, cupping your palm over it, grinding your hips harder and more deliberately against him, "You'll lose pussy privileges."

"Well, I can't have that. This what you wanted?" You've never seen him change his mind so fast in your life, swatting your hand away to sit up and rotate his wrist for the pads of his fingers to massage your clit. His other hand is flat against your back and pulling you into his chest, his mind dizzying at the way you writhe and chant his name in sharp breaths. He tenses his thigh again, his fingers moving faster and the tight feeling in your stomach twisting until it finally snaps and waves of relief and pleasure - an emptying lightness - ripple through your body, thighs trembling as you push back. Luke's eyes fixate on nothing but the sopping patch underneath your cunt, the noise of the world falling into white noise as he thinks of nothing but the beautiful mess you've made.

[immortalmrwavell]

More Like A Real Man

(Original story posted September 8th 2022) This story has been significantly Updated!

A rare Gay to Straight themed story from me here so if that’s your thing then I hope you enjoy! 😜

“Finally I’m starting to look less like a nerdy piece of shit and more like a real fuckin man.” Henry smirked as he checked himself out in the selfie camera. At last he was starting to see the results of his labour. His body was finally starting to take shape. All the new muscle he’d been able to pack on made him a far cry from the stick figure of a man he was before. “Next thing will be to get some contacts so I don’t have to wear these dumbass glasses half the fuckin time.” He scoffed.

———

This all started over 6 months ago Henry was practically the picture of a skinny booknerd. With his frail body, glasses that framed his average face and clear lack of fashion sense. He was intelligent for sure, easily making it into one of the most advanced courses at his local college, but that only made him less popular when it came to the jocks. Henry was everything they weren’t. And most of all he was gay which didn’t help his reputation with the jock either.

Despite this, one day Henry found himself sneaking into Coach Kent’s office. The Coach had been in charge of the college’s football team and physical education courses for quite some time now. However, news had recently spread about Coach Kent deciding to leave. Saying something about a “Change of scenery”. And so this day was said to be his last day at the local college. Of course Henry, being the meek gay nerd that was, couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see if the coach had left anything behind for him to steal. After all, he'd had a secret crush on the older burly man ever since he started going to this college.

He’d hoped to find maybe an old shirt or pair of shoes. Anything Henry could use to remember the Dilf that was Coach Kent in his own perverted way. What he didn’t expect to find was one of the coach’s jockstraps!?! He couldn’t believe the coach had left it behind but he certainly wasn’t going to complain. The nerd swiped it up without a second thought, giving it a good long sniff before shoving it into his bag.

Henry made another sweep of the office to see if there was anything else worth grabbing. He grabbed an old blue cap that had been left hanging on the door along with a pair of football socks remembered seeing Coach Kent wear a few times before. He was already imagining how hot the cosplay was going to be as he quietly slipped out of the office. Knowing he was gonna nut in that jockstrap as soon as he got home had him struggling to hide his boner.

Once in the comfort and privacy of his bedroom, Henry tossed his bag on the bed and immediately stripped down. He pulled out the worn jockstrap before pressing it to his nose yet again, loving the strong masculine scent left behind by Coach Kent. All the while thinking back on all the fantasies he’d had of worshipping the hot older man.

Eventually however he was able to pull jockstrap away from his face long enough to start putting it on. Sliding up over his lanky legs until the pouch pulled over his moderate cock and balls and the straps came up just below his flat butt. As expected it was far too big for him. So much so that it wouldn’t stay on properly without Henry holding it in place. But it was still super hot nonetheless. Causing his already stiff cock to pulse even harder with excitement as he used his free hand to jerk it.

He was already thinking of grabbing Coach Kent’s socks and cap to wear too… until a strange dizziness washed over him. He could hardly explain it as he started to lose what little strength he had before collapsing on the bed behind him. It was like his consciousness was being squashed down from the inside. That was the only way to explain it. But it wouldn’t matter as he soon faded from consciousness.

———

“Fuck sake! Why did this skinny nerd faggot have to find it first.” Henry shouted in frustration as he looked down and his scrawny body in disgust. Pawing at his non existent biceps and flat chest. Only it wasn’t Henry anymore. “I was sure I told one of the faggy jocks to check my office after I left!” Even his own voice was pissing him off now. Completely lacking any kind of real masculinity or power behind it.

Henry didn’t know it at the time but the jockstrap he’d stolen actually had Coach Kent’s very soul embedded into it. It was part of a sacred ritual that would allow him to take over the body of whomever wore the jockstrap. His plan had been to trick one of the younger closeted gay Jocks into taking it and putting it on but clearly things didn’t go exactly to plan. “I can’t do that fucking ritual for at least another ten years!” The coach vented in frustration.

The body snatcher looked himself up and down in the nearest mirror he could find. “Jesus Christ. I’ve seen chicks that don’t even work out with bigger muscles than this…” When he’d put his soul into that jockstrap he’d hoped to find himself in a new body that was young and strong. One that had potential to become a great athlete some day. Unfortunately Henry met only one part of that criteria. He might’ve been young but his physique was laughable at best. It was practically just skin and bone. And now that’s exactly what Coach Kent was stuck with. “Why did this pathetic little shit have to ruin everything…” He grumbled while gritting his teeth.

It was tough for him to adjust at first. Kent couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this puny but there was nothing he could do about it now. He was stuck in this imp’s body for the foreseeable future as infuriating as it was. However he had no plans looking like a thing for the next ten years so he did the only thing he could do to fix this fuck up. He got Henry’s skinny ass body into the gym.

It was embarrassingly tough at first for the once manly and imposing coach. Only being able to lift some of the smallest weights and having to set the machines he used to a light load. But despite that he pushed this pathetic worm’s body as far as it could go. He combined his efforts with a well thought out meal plan that he stuck to religiously over the next couple of months. It took some time but eventually he began to see some results in muscle gains that made him slightly less disgusted by his own reflection.

Those weren’t the only changes Kent had been making to Henry’s life however. In this time Henry’s friends had noticed a very sudden shift in his behaviour. He used to be a kind and timid guy that loved to talk about nerdy things with them. Yet one day he suddenly began acting crude, boisterous and talking like an absolute gym rat. Just like the dudes that would bully their friend group. In less than a week Kent had already cut ties with them after he started acting like a complete douchebag and calling them all a bunch of homophobic slurs. He didn’t want to be friends with a bunch of geeky homo’s anyway. Henry might’ve been a fag but Kent was as straight as a fuckin arrow!

Speaking of, it didn’t take long for him to have his straight orgasm. On the very first evening of being inside his new body, the coach first opened Henry’s laptop to find tabs upon tabs of gay porn open and in bookmarks. He was disgusted by it and was even more disgusted when his body reacted and got a semi for it. “Fucking faggot body…” He muttered to himself before swiftly deleting all the gay porn tabs with a strong grimace.

“Time to fix this broken dick.” He smirked before clicking on the search bar and pulling up the hottest straight porn he could find. It didn’t take long for Kent to find countless incredible videos of beautiful big breasted bimbo’s shaking their tits and fingering their wet pussies. Their feminine moans were like music to his ears. He glanced down at his cock as he started jerking it. “See? This is what you’re supposed to get excited about.” He said seemingly to no one but his own stolen dick as he returned his attention to the hot chicks on the screen. “Tits and pussy.”

The first few times he jacked off he found it tough to get fully hard due to his current body’s innate gay urges. Thankfully it got easier with each load he busted to the sight of huge tits. Almost like he was shooting out this body’s homosexuality in small doses with each orgasm. This of course only spurred Kent on more. Jerking off Henry’s once gay dick to the thought and sight of women every single night. After that it wasn’t long before the coach had fully conditioned his new cock to get incredibly hard at the sight of women and only women. He was proud to finally have a straight dick again that craved tits and pussy, like he believed all men should have.

But what happened to the real Henry during all this? Well his soul was cursed to be suppressed and trapped inside his own mind. He could see and hear everything but had zero control over what Coach Kent did and said with his body. Kent was in the driver's seat permanently. Henry tried to fight it but there was nothing he could do. Only being able to watch and feel as Kent forced him to workout and be an asshole to his friends. Forced to be a spectator as Kent redecorated his bedroom by ripping down the Star Wars posters in favour of putting up posters of footballers and women in skimpy bikinis. The Coach even went as far as to sell Henry’s comic collection and figures to make money and room for some new weights and home exercise equipment.

“Maybe I can make something outta this shitty body and life after all.” Kent would comment, looking at all the changes he’d made for the better so far. He still had a long way to go if he wanted to transform Henry’s life into the alpha male jock life he’d wanted to relive but it was a good start.

———

Jumping back to the present, Kent had finally gotten his new body into pretty decent shape with some good muscle and size showing. He managed to fill out most of the clothes that’d been baggy on Henry before and some he’d even had to trade for a size larger. His biceps were showing at last and his pecs were starting to come in nicely. Henry's once skinny legs were now looking a fair bit meatier. Not to mention his back and shoulders looking noticeably broader, giving him a far more masculine build. Naturally he still wanted to get much bigger but at least now he felt as though he could look in the mirror and see a real man staring back at him.

In this time he’d even signed up to the college football team at the start of the academic year where he was able to make some new bro friends. Though it a little strange for a couple reasons. One being that most of his new bros were players that he used to Coach before the takeover. The other reason being that most of them also used to bully the old Henry and make fun of him and his former queer friends. That said they gave Kent a hard time at first. Not that Kent minded. If anything he was glad that the young jocks he used to coach weren’t going easy on someone they believed to be a worthless faggot. It showed that he’d done a good job at raising them to be real men as well. And it also meant that he’d have to prove himself to them.

The attitudes of the other jocks began to turn around sooner than he expected. Mostly thanks to seeing the sudden shift in Henry’s attitude to become a jock like them. It wasn’t long before they started to admit how they were actually pretty impressed by the gains he’d made and that he was maybe cooler than they’d originally given him credit for. Especially now that he’d stopped hanging around those losers he was with before. What had earned their respect the most however was how well Kent played on the field with them during practice. By all accounts Henry should’ve been a complete amateur but with Kent in the driver's seat he had decades worth of experience that allowed him to keep pace with the other jocks.

Once again through it all the real Henry was helpless as he watched himself be transformed into even more of a typical straight jock with everyday that passed. Being forced to watch himself become ‘bros’ with the other jocks that he detested. Fist bumping and bro hugging them whenever he saw them whether it be at the gym, football practice or elsewhere on campus. He’d even been forced to use the same kind of dumb brotalk that all the jocks used. And of course joining in alongside them as they hurled homophobic insults towards the types of people he’d have been great friends with before. It was torturous!

The most torturous part for Henry however was the way Kent saw Women. He constantly found himself disgusted at the way Kent used his voice to talk about ‘hot chicks’ to his new bros. Describing how fat their tits and asses were to them and how he’d wanted to bend them over rail their tight pussies. Henry was disgusted at hearing the words leave his mouth. He would never have agreed with objectifying women like this. Yet now he found himself unwillingly staring at the huge racks of any sexy babes around the campus and feeling his bulge growing at the sight.

Tonight however was the night both Coach Kent had been waiting for and Henry had been dreading. Since getting into much better shape, girls around the campus had begun to take interest in the new, confident jock on the football team. Noticing this, Kent thought it was about time to shoot his shot and landed the number of one of the art students Talia. She had a reputation of being one of the “hottest chicks on campus” so when the other Jocks heard they all crowded around ‘Henry’ while jumping and cheering for him. That certainly boosted Kent’s ego for the first time in a while since taking his new body.

After a couple dates, Talia was finally coming over to Henry’s place for the night and wouldn’t you know it before long the two began pulling off each other's clothes. On the inside Henry was cringing, wanting nothing more than for this to stop and take back control of his body and life. Unfortunately on the outside his cock was rock hard as Kent was busily sucking on Talia’s tits while massaging and fingering her pussy like a pro.

“Oh my godddd…” Talia whined lustfully. “Where’d you learn how to touch a girl like that?” She asked between bated breaths. Going on to imply that no other guy she’d been with had been nearly this good at pleasuring her.

“Dunno.” Kent shrugged with a sly smirk. “Just instinct I guess.” He answered playfully before burying his face between her tits again, of course not revealing that in reality he had many decades worth of experience.

Henry’s protest became more and more frantic as things started to heat up. He was begging for it to stop when Talia wrapped her lips around his cock and began to stop but the only things that left his mouth were the soft grunts that the Coach let out. But when the busty college girl laid herself out on the bed, legs spread eagerly, Henry was reduced to screaming ‘NO! NO! NO!’ Over and over again. But his protests fell on deaf ears as they always did. Completely powerless to stop Kent as he their cock up with Talia’s slick entrance. And for the first time in his life, Henry felt himself plunge his cock deep inside a wet welcoming pussy.

“Fuuuuuuckkkk yeahhhhhhhh…” Kent growled at the familiar feeling. Also enjoying the subtle differences in how it felt fucking with a different cock to his previous one.

Henry tried his best to fight against it. To rebel and protest but nothing worked. He couldn’t even stop himself from moaning internally at the feeling of being inside a pussy. After all he could still feel all the same pleasure as Coach Kent pumped in and out rhythmically while groaning out in Henry’s noticeably deeper voice. The thrusts grew faster and more aggressive as the two changed positions a couple times. It wasn’t until Kent had already fucked Talia so good that she’d orgasms all over his dick that he could feel a load welling up in his balls. Something Henry was terrified about. Yet, a few more powerful thrusts and a long groan later, Henry found himself being forced to do something he never thought he would. Pumping a tight pussy nice full with his thick potent load.

In that moment something changed. The Coach was still in complete control but suddenly the real Henry found his mind linking up to Kent’s. Like the act of breeding a woman had left them both in such bliss, whether the real Henry had wanted it or not, that it allowed them to become truly intertwined. After that Henry found himself in a daze internally as Kent’s very soul weaved itself around Henry’s, corrupting him slowly but surely.

‘Maybe I like pussy after all…’ Henry would soon start to think, oblivious to what was happening to him. ‘Maybe being a football jock isn’t so bad…’ Tye corruption would spread as his old sense of sense began to dwindle. Little did he know that soon his individuality would be wiped without a trace. His consciousness would become like a mirror to Coach Kent’s until Henry was more than happy to go along with anything Kent had them do. Whether that be sports, joining the fraternity and fucking busty bimbo’s left and right.

And after that Henry would be consumed entirely, leaving only Kent and his new body…

[dollfacefantasy]

Ooh how about vibrator play w frank castle? Maybe sitting w your back to his chest as he just gets you off over n over bc you got all needy/bratty?

Absolutly love the way you write btw 🫶🫶

frank castle x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, vibrator use, overstimulation, age gap (20s/40s) a/n: thank you so much! i think i saw heaven when i read this request <3

"hold still, baby," his deep voice rumbled against your jaw, "gotta hold still for me. can't make you feel good if you're running away."

your entire body shuddered in his lap. you almost missed the words. they ran together when your mind felt soft and hazy with pleasure like this. they also sounded distant when the buzz of the toy whirred down below. that strong, consistent vibration made everything else fade away.

it wouldn't have really mattered if you spaced what he said anyways. the words were empty. meant to tease you more than anything else. you couldn't get away right now if you wanted to. not with the way he had your thighs pinned open. one of his thick arms wrapped around your waist while his free hand held the small, thrumming cylinder between your legs.

he kept it still for the most part, letting the toy do its job. every so often he would move it. he'd draw small circles on your bundle of nerves or slide it downward like he planned on stuffing it inside your dripping hole.

the sensation caused your hips to buck. your heels dug into his thighs, sliding on the denim covering them as you fruitlessly tried to squirm to nowhere. your back pressed against his chest while raucous whines erupted from you.

but despite the signs of you getting overwhelmed, he didn't take the toy off. he kept your little vibrator buzzing right up against you and planted a few kisses along your jawline.

"you gettin' close? that why you're all squirmy? cause you're gonna cum again?" he murmured.

your teeth dug into your bottom lip as you nodded wildly.

he smirked, though your eyes were too droopy to see that.

"so needy. you weren't lying about how bad you wanted me, huh?" he crooned.

your head shook back and forth now.

"well let it happen, honey. stop trying to run from it. let yourself feel good. that's what you were after," he said, subtly taunting towards the end.

his mocking tone did nothing to deter you. your release crashed into you with enough force to black out your vision. every muscle in your body quivered, contracting and relaxing as you hit the high for the third time in a row.

a moan seeped from your lips so loud that his hand flew up from your waist to clamp over your mouth.

"shh, shh, shh, sweet girl. can't have you waking up the whole floor, yeah?" he mumbled in your ear.

you didn't respond. your body continued to roll into the bliss before settling. there was a brief moment of reprieve following that - probably because your nerves were approaching numbness down there - but before you could catch your breath, that small toy was back on the most delicate part of your cunt. your eyes rolled back, your mind blanking in response to yet another round of white hot bliss starting up.

"no- mmph- no more, frank," you whined as his hand fell from your mouth to grope at one of your breasts.

"no, you're not done yet. i know you. i turn this thing off now, and in fifteen minutes you'll be pawing at my shorts," he teased.

"i won't," you begged, lip wobbling, "i won't. promise. it's too much."

"too much? you gettin' tired? that cute little pussy ready to tap out for me?" he cooed.

"uh huh," you moaned.

"yeah? s'funny cause when i came home and told you i was tired, you didn't wanna stop, did you?" he said.

you groaned already knowing where this was going. "frankie-" you started to plead, but he cut your cry short.

"yeah. told you my muscles were aching, my back's all stiff-"

"thought you were just being an old man," you pouted, cutting him off right back.

as soon as the words exited your mouth, his thumb on the vibe tapped the button to crank up the speed. the buzzing grew louder and the tiny rod shook in his grasp with more force. you yelped, your body jerking and then melting on top of him.

"don't be a smartass or we'll be here for a while," he muttered, kissing your cheekbone, "you knew what you were doing, begging like that even when i told you to quit it. this is exactly what you wanted."

you turned your head, nuzzling your face against his throat as if the crook of his neck could provide you some form of escape. your body trembled on his lap, though it was totally motionless otherwise. your limbs felt like jelly, and your mind didn't fare much better. whimpers oozed from your lips without restraint.

"that's better," he praised, "just cum again for me, baby. one more time. give me a good one and it might be the last."

ragged breaths puffed from your lips. your chest heaved with the exertion. you knew your next release was coming whether you wanted it or not. it bordered on painful, but the all-consuming sensation overtook you just the same.

this time you reacted with less intensity. you weren't as loud, most of your noises remaining breathy and drawn out. your body didn't jerk. instead you spasmed with the euphoria flooding your senses.

he worked you through it, swiveling the point of the vibrator over your clit with precision. his hand guided it through your slick. it stayed on you until the last of your tremors melted into bursts in the aftershock.

finally then, when you were wriggling and whining, grabbing at his wrist without any semblance of a coherent word coming from you, he pulled it away. that same button he used to up the speed, he hit again and turned it off.

he dropped it to the side. it could be cleaned up later. right now, his attention stayed on you. his strong arms squeezed you before shifting your body around to sit more comfortably against his chest.

a couple kisses landed on your forehead. his fingers massaged the nape of your neck, coaxing your mind out from the slush of post-release and back to lucidity with him. you blinked slowly while gazing up at him with your glazed eyes.

"you gonna be able to walk to bed, or do i gotta help you?" he mocked.

you pouted with annoyance this time, lightly jabbing him with your elbow. "i got it," you whimpered before slowly rising and taking a few uncertain steps.

he huffed out a laugh at the display, patting your ass as he stood up to follow your lead.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

You’re like the best writer of smut here ☺️☺️☺️

Please I’m begging 90s James (can be any era) taking reader’s virginity? But he didn’t know she’s innocent and she thinks after all the groupies he fucked he’d be disappointed in her? But he’s actually super turned on, cause no one touched her and now he gets to ruin her??? So I guess corruption kink, purity kink, dirty talk, size kink (he’s big, we all know that)???

A/n: I've had this conversation with a friend a few times, my idea is that -going off of the picture of James on the record, we all know the one- he's roughly 5-7 inches (8 being a generous amount) because he's holding himself in his hand and there's still some poking out, plus he looks flaccid SO by my calculations I've come up with said lengths, let me know if you want to hear more of my thoughts on sixty year old mens dicks🫠

Warnings: Smut, size kink, dirty talk, fingering (f receiving), idk about corruption and purity kinks but I tried lol, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

You straddled his lap, arms around his neck with your fingers laced in his hair. James's arms were around you, holding you close while he attacked your lips with your own, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You'd been dating for two months, getting closer to three, and you still hadn't told him he would be your first. You'd gone on a few dates, some highschool romances but those didn't mean anything really.

You were quiet and kept to yourself, you didn't go out, you didn't get dates, how you managed to get him was beyond you but here you were, in his bed, in his lap, in his arms with his hard on pressed firmly against your ass.

Honestly, you didn't think you'd make it this far with him. James was a rocker, the lead singer of a big band, he'd been with so many women it was hard to believe that he went cold turkey just because he met you.

"Sweetheart," he spoke, getting your attention, "what's wrong?" He asked, bringing a hand up to your face and thumbing your cheek in a soothing motion.

"What's wrong..?" You repeated softly, letting him move your face further away so he could look at you. "Nothing's wrong, why?"

"You were thinking about something." He said with a warm smile. "You stopped kissing me."

You gave a small nod, understanding why he was stopping now. "Right, sorry." You leaned closer to kiss him again but you only got a quick peck before he pushed you away again.

"What were you thinking about, sweetheart?" He asked, eyes flicking down to your red lips.

"Nothing." You assured.

James rolled his eyes. "It's not nothing, tell me." He said sternly, looking you in the eye. You chewed your cheek, he knew just what eyes to give to make your knees weak.

"I'm sorry." You finally said. "I know you're used to a lot of women, you're used to groupies, and I'm not them and I don't think it'll be good enough but I want to try, I just literally don't know how..?" You explained.

James blinked at you, expression blank. "Sweetheart, I mean this politely, what the fuck do you mean?" He couldn't hold back a small chuckle. "Are-are you saying you're scared you're not good enough at sex for me?"

Your mouth opened before the words came out. "Well, yeah but that's not exactly what I meant." You mumbled. "I mean... I-I might be lacking in the, um, sex...ual... intimacy? With, you know... others?"

James inhaled deeply, he gave a nod and rested his forehead on your shoulder. "Sweetheart, are you trying -and failing miserably, might I add- that you're a virgin?" You huffed at his comment but you had to nod.

"Yes." You mumbled, fingers curling in his hair to scratch his scalp. He gave a small hum and pulled away from you again, planting a soft kiss on your cheek as he did.

"Right, and I'd be upset because?" You thought for a while but whatever train of thought you were on was cutoff when you felt him twitching against your ass. "Sweetheart, we can take it slow, you just gotta talk to me."

You inhaled deeply, nodding along as he spoke. "Jamie," you started, "I-I want you to take me... my virginity..." Your voice fell to a mumble, embarrassed at actually saying it out loud, so bluntly as well. Straight to his face.

James smiled up at you. "Alright then." He said, hand going to undo your shorts.

Your face flushed as he did so. "What-what are you doing?" You asked, slight panic slipping into your voice.

"Don't worry, I told you we can take it slow." He assured, closing the gap between you for a moment as he helped you out of your shorts. "But that means I have to get you ready for me, sweetheart, it's not gonna be easy fitting me into you if you're not ready." While it made sense you didn't want to think too much about it.

James continued to pepper your face with kisses as he pushed your panties to the side. He ran a finger through your folds, giving a small hum of approval at how wet you were already. He pushed a finger into you, enjoying the soft gasp that left you when he did.

"Tell me, sweetheart, and be honest." He spoke. "You have touched yourself before, haven't you?" He asked, combing his free hand through your hair.

You hesitated before answering, cheeks already dusted a candy red colour. "Um, I-I have toys..." You mumbled, unable to look him in the eyes as you said it.

James's smile widened. "You do, do you?" He asked. "And when you use them, you think of me don't you?" He questioned further, started to pump his finger in and out of you.

Your breaths grew heavy, eyelids fluttering as his finger moved. "I think of you, Jamie." You said, but it wasn't enough, you were already going this far, you had more to get off your chest. "I-I think of you on top of me, I think of the faces you make and I think of what you sound like... I think of you naked, I think of-of what you'd look like with my-my hand around you... your cock... I think about what it-it looks like when you cum." Once you started you couldn't stop, all the filthy things you'd been thinking about coming out like dirty commandments.

James listened in slight shock, he hadn't known you to be so needy. "Filthy slut." He said with a smile, adding a second digit. "Keep talking." He urged. "I want to hear what else you think of when you're getting yourself off."

The addition of another finger made you whine but he slowed down to let you get used to the stretch. You swallowed thickly and nodded, mentally preparing yourself to continue.

You closed your eyes, letting his fingers resume the same motion, in and out, slow and curling to find what made you tick. "I think ah-about riding you, my-my hands on your chest while you tell me wh-ah- what to do, how-how good I'm doing."

"What kind of toys do you have, sweetheart?" He asked, pulling you from your thoughts. You bit your lip, he wasn't even supposed to know you touched yourself, now he was supposed to know what you're using to do it with? "C'mon, I won't judge." He said, kissing the tip of your nose as his fingers curled in you, making your eyes roll and he knew to hit that spot again.

"They-they're vibrators."

"They?" He repeated. "As in multiple?" Your eyes widened as the realization of what you'd admitted to. "Naughty girl." He curled his fingers again, bringing you closer to your already nearing release.

James added another finger, moving his hand faster now as he scissored your hole in an attempt to prep you for his cock. "When you're alone in bed with your toys, that's how you do it, isn't it?" He asked for confirmation.

You gave it willingly, nodding your head as more moans started falling from your lips.

"You're thinking about me." He continued. "What kind of vibrators?" He asked again. "You've never had anything inside you, sweetheart, right? I'll be the first?" You nodded, his fingers making it hard to focus on anything else. He chuckled as he saw how close you were. "That's it, that's my good girl, cum on my fingers."

Your gut tightened before bursting, your eyes rolled back. Your hands resting on his shoulder clutched his shirt in your fists as you came, a string of curses leaving you.

James groaned lowly at the sight, his fingers still moving in you and letting you ride out your high on them.

As you came down from it, though, he let you melt into him, slowly and carefully shifting you to lay on your back on the mattress. Your head fell back onto his pillow, his scent filling your nose, completely taking you over.

James hovered over you a moment, propping himself between your legs and holding himself up with his hands firmly planted on either side of your head. "Is this what you fantasize about, sweetheart?" You could only nod and let him undress you before following shortly after.

"I'll go slow, so just relax." He said, brushing some of your hair out of your face. "And if, for any reason, you want to stop, tell me. I want to know- I need to know if you're uncomfortable with anything for whatever reason, am I understood?" He asked firmly, cupping your cheek in the palm of his hand.

You nodded, staring right back at him as he used his other hand to line himself up with your cunt before pushing in. He did just what he said he would, moving slowly.

He stopped to pepper kisses all over your face and tell you how good you were doing. "That feels good, doesn't it? Feels good when I stretch you out like this." You nodded, arms wrapped around him, hands splayed out on his back.

"You-you're so big." You mumbled, looking down at him in hopes of catching a glimpse of where you both connected. Only, what you saw was a few more inches still needing to be pushed in.

James let out hearty laugh when he saw your eyes widen. "Only halfway, sweetheart, you'll know when I'm balls deep, don't worry."

You slowly relaxed back into the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, mind full. "You're gonna tear me in two." You muttered to no one in particular, James was the only one there to hear and it made him laugh.

"Damn right I am." He agreed. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else, sweetheart, no ones gonna stretch you out like this, no ones gonna make you theirs." His eyes flickered over your face, taking in your expression of wide eyes and the small pout on your lips. "No one else gets to be your first."

In a quick motion he pushed the rest of himself into you, burying his cock deep in your cunt. Your eyes rolled back, hands clawing at his back and making him groan. He looked down, grin only getting bigger as he saw the bulge he made in your stomach.

"No one else gets to do that." He purred, reaching a hand down to press on your stomach. A whine left you as he did, your legs tried to close but he was in the way. "Not so fast, sweetheart, we haven't even gotten started yet."

[short-honey-badger]

Sharing is Caring

SPOILER ALERT!

Pairings! Shanks x Female Reader x Shamrock

Warnings: drinking, smut, coercing, blow jobs, cunnilingus, and viginal sex. Reader gets spit roasted

Masterlist for Shamrock-> HERE

There weren't many things that he and his younger twin agreed about, but you were definitely one of them. It had started innocently enough. You were by yourself at the bar, and he had watched Shanks cast an appraising look your way and then throw a smirk at his older brother, brows bouncing before he'd turned away and sat by your side. Shamrock had scoffed and settled down in the back corner, content to watch his younger twin pull you in close and whisper filth in your ear.

It isn't often that the two of them have time to see one another, but they always make it count whenever they do. There wasn't much that the two had in common, but they did share the same taste in women, and you seemed to fit the bill.

It doesn't take long for Shanks to have you leave the bar and follow him to the booth that Shamrock has taken up. His twin gestures for you to slide into the booth first and then follows after you with a gleeful grin.

Drinks are had, and he and Shanks get to know you again little. For once, you seem to be more interesting than the other women the two of them have had before, with your strong opinions and the cute way you blush and sputter when they begin to lightly tease you.

It starts with the touch of Shamrock's boot, sliding along your ankle and up your calf. His face gives nothing away, but you blush and bite your lip all the same. It gets worse when a hand lands on your thigh, thumb digging into the meat and dragging up to rest right against your clothed core. Shanks feels you shiver under his hand and knows that they have you hook, line, and sinker.

“Shanks, go get us another round,” his twin orders, and usually he might protest, but not this time. He squeezes that plush thigh and then slides out of the booth, leaning in to kiss the side of your face on impulse before he disappears into the crowd.

Shamrock watches as you squirm, head cocking to the side as he slides the toe of his boot up further, ghosting over your knee and knocking your legs apart with ease, “You must have some idea of what we want from you.”

You jerk your head in a nod, face on fire as you flick your eyes up to meet his bored gaze. You are well on your way to getting drunk and have to squint to bring the handsome man into focus.

“Good. I'm not a fan of ignorance,” he rumbles, and you nod again, too nervous to speak to the twin who seems so much more intimidating than the one who’d brought you over here.

“Not scaring her away, are you brother?” Shanks quips when he returns. There are three mugs clutched in his hand that he sits down on the table, letting Shamrock divy them out.

“No. Only making sure that she knows what she is getting into. I quite like this one,” his twin murmurs, and you feel yourself face heat even further at his words.

They watch you sip your drink, and the evening carries on, the three of you deep in your cups, but you seem to be the only one affected. You feel that burning hand cup your thigh again, that devious boot stroking up and along your calf. Properly drunk and throwing caution to the wind, you look at the twins with pleading, glassy eyes, “Take me upstairs?”

One second, you are still in the noisy bar, and the next, you feel yourself being laid out on the soft sheets of your bed. You don't know where your clothes have gone, but you can't bring yourself to care right now, not when you are being pressed in on all sides, lean bodies blocking you in against the bed. You try to touch, but your hands are gathered at the wrists and pressed above your head, the accented voice of the older twin ordering you to keep them there.

Shanks shifts between your legs and delights in the way you twitch and moan when he leans in, mouthing at your inner thighs and nipping the soft flesh. Another hot mouth finds one of your nipples, tongue flattening against the bud before it is sucked between sharp teeth. The feeling of having both of these men is addicting, and even in your addled state, you never want this to end.

That mouth between your legs slides up, leaving a trail of cooling saliva in its wake. Shanks forces your legs wider, hooking your knees over his shoulders, breathing in that musky scent of arousal before he buries his face into your cunt, lips and tongue smacking as he drinks straight from the source.

Your mother falls open, eyes clenched as you keen in rapture. Shamrock takes advantage, mouth leaving your aching nipple to seal his lips against yours, tongue delving past your teeth to lick inside and curl along your own slick muscle. You taste like the alcohol they had pushed at you, but there was a sweetness to you that had the older twin delving further against you, seeking that unique taste. His hand snakes up your side, long fingers curling around your throat and squeezing just enough.

Shamrock pulls away slowly, reluctantly almost, but his cock is aching and he wants to feel your cunt clutch around him. Wants to pump you so full of his seed and keep it there until you're fit to burst. He glances down at his brother, smirking at the debauched express that he wears.

“How does she taste, brother?”

Shanks parts from your cunt just long enough to grin up at his twin, showing off the slick that clings to his scruff and around his mouth.

“Better than the sweetest dessert. You should have a taste,” He praises and carefully shrugs your legs from his shoulders, the two moving around one another like a well oiled machine so that Shamrock can take his place kneeling between your legs.

He doesn't waste any time, lips, and tongue attacking your sticky folds, and he groans at the taste. Shamrock eats you out like a man starved, making you squeal when his teeth graze across your clit. Shanks shuffles up the bed, grabbing his waistband and shucking his pants off to toss them to the floor. His hand finds your jaw, gripping it gently so that he can angle your face up to meet his eyes.

“You're not so distracted that you can't suck my cock, are you baby?”

Shanks’ smile widens when you give a jerky nod. He presses his fingers into your jaw, gently prying your mouth open and sliding his thumb inside, sighing when your lips seal around his thumb and suck softly. He watches your eyes shutter, breath harsh through your nose before he slides his thumb away, tracing your lips and smearing your slip across them.

It takes some shuffling, but you wind up on your knees, Shanks on his back, and a thick cock hovering in front of your face. His hand fists himself, pushing his length forward to rub his head along your lips.

“Open up for me, baby,” He coos, and you do as ordered, jaw going slack as he slides into your mouth with a low groan.

Shamrock pulls away from your dripping pussy, licking his lips and peaking over your shoulder to watch his twin's cock sink further inside your mouth, lips tight around his thickness. Feeling left out, he unbuckles his belt and shoves his pants down, grabbing the base of his length and leaning forward to rub through your folds, gathering slick to smear down his length

“Going to fuck you now, darling.”

That is the only warning you get before he slams into you, cock stretching you all at once and making you whine and tense in their hold. Shamrock's hands find your hips, fingers dragging circles against your flesh as he stays still. You are exceptionally tight around him, his teeth bared in the dim room as he leans over you to plant harsh kisses against your back. He doesn't give you much time to adjust, too ramped up in his own pleasure, before he begins to rock into you, setting a harsh pace that forces the dick heavy on your tongue further down, thick cockhead sliding down into the tightness of your throat.

“Breathe for me, baby. You're doing such a good job,” Shanks coos, and his hand slips into your hair to keep it out of your face. He meets your wet eyes with a grin, hips snapping up and making you choke around his girth. He watches in rapt attention as spit and precum bubble up past your lips to drip down your chin, expression going dumb as the twins use you for their own pleasure.

You don't know how long you stay between the two men, mind blank aside from the knowledge that you were being fucked like no one had ever fucked you before. Your cunt quivers and sucks greedily around the cock that splits you open, cream thick and staining your thighs and sliding down to coat the tests that slap against you with every sharp thrust from Shamrock.

You swallow around the length in your mouth, straining not to gag when it throbs against your tongue. Shanks is fighting to not cum, not yet, not when he knows that despite their ministrations you haven't come yet. He meets his twin's eyes over the top of your head, and the younger of the two can tell that his older brother is close with that pinched expression on his face.

“Going to keep you locked up after this, darling. Ours to use and stuff full of cum. Won't ever be able to get away from us,” Shamrock snarls above you. His pace turns erratic, hips stuttering against your ass. One hand slides up your back, fingers wrapping around your throat and he groans at the feel of his twin's cock pressing thick in your throat. You make a strangled sound, eyes clenched shut and all you know in the moment is rapture.

You spasm under him as you come, cunt clenching tight around his cock and sucking him impossibly deeper. Shamrock follows you right over the edge, scorching seed flooding your pussy that he fucks right back in when it threatens to leak out. His brother isn't far behind, expression strained as he empties himself down your throat, teeth bared as your mouth works him, the cum that you don't manage to swallow spilling past your lips to drip to the sheets below.

Carefully, Shanks shifts, pulling his cock from your mouth and moving out from under you, laughing when you fall forward into the sheets. You feel full, and fucked out beyond sense, a whine leaving you when the cock inside your stuffed cunt is pulled out. You are rolled on your back, vision blurry as you stare up at the two men who had turned your world upside down. You are drifting, exhausted, but then you feel your legs shoved up, putting your pussy on display as Shanks steps between your legs. The bed dips, and the older twin stretches out beside you, calloused fingers tweaking a nipple that makes you lurch.

Shamrock meets your eyes, his own shuttered with pleasure as he smooths his hand up to cup your face. His expression turns teasing, lips turning up into a mean smile.

“You can't fall asleep, darling. We aren't near done with you yet,” He coos, and his words are punctuated by his twin bullying his cock in you, cunt stretching out to accommodate him, “Don't worry, we'll take good care of you.”

@mit-suri

[citrustan]

dating girl (jjk) #2.2

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: you try to convince yourself that you're really okay with 'casually dating' your crush.

genre & note: college au, fwb kinda thing but more than friends ygm? angst! - here are the links for the original and the follow-up parts to be read before this one - it's giving filler chapter... 🤐

It's awkward.

You look around for a moment, trying not to feel like a loser who got ditched.

There are very few seatings available and none of them were occupied currently. You felt like even bigger of a loser because you'd be the only girl just sitting there. Nor do you want men to take it as a hint to approach you. You're rethinking coming at all.

You blow air out of your mouth as a self-soothing gesture, deciding to go grab another drink.

Suddenly remembering that you had other friends at this party, you decide to text them asking if they were around. You loosely recollect reading about their bar hopping plan on the group chat, so you're not sure. You'd have joined in if you had Jungkook to tag along. He's fun to cling to when you're drunk.

Sometimes you fake being so piss drunk that you can't move by yourself just so Jungkook would hold you up or lift you in his arms.

Thinking about this is really ruining your mood though. Because tonight, that other chick is going to enjoy his company while you act like a cunt towards your date because you can't stand up for yourself.

As you make your way back to the table, you spot Jungkook not too far from it.

Boy, is just everywhere tonight or what.

You freeze for a moment, unsure if you should approach Jungkook, or if you’d rather just stay out of his way. But before you can make up your mind, he’s already walking to you.

“Hey,” he says, lowly, as he stops a few inches beside you.

You give him a tight smile, trying to keep your tone neutral, “Hi.”

He looks around, almost as if he’s unsure of what to say next. “Mr. Tooth Fairy had to leave?”

You hum, glancing toward the door where Hoseok disappeared. “Yeah, something came up.”

Jungkook nods, his eyes flicking back to you, “I see.”

An awkward silence stretched between the two of you like a thin, fragile thread.

Finally, Jungkook clears his throat, breaking the tension, “Listen... about earlier-”

You hold up a hand, cutting him off, “Yeah, I'm sorry, I did not mean to do that. It was uncalled for."

This was too awkward. You don't know how to act around him. All you want to do it grab his head and smush your lips together.

"No, you're fine. I meant to text you back, you know?"

Right.

"Yeah, well, either way, I get the message loud and clear," you reply simply, staring him down.

"I wasn't sending any messages, _____."

"Well, yeah!"

"_____..."

"Can we not do this? I told you I hear you loud and clear. Let's move on." You were agitated.

Jungkook knows you've misunderstood his silence but he doesn't want to piss you off anymore today.

He sighs softly, tilting his head as if to study you. “Hoseok, huh?”

“Yeah,” you say, almost defensively. “He’s nice.”

“Nice,” Jungkook echoes, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly, though you can’t tell if it’s amusement or something else entirely. “That’s good. You deserve... nice.”

The way he says it makes your stomach twist. You ball your hands into a fist. You wish he'd stop rubbing it in.

“Is that supposed to mean something?” you ask, sharper than you intend.

Jungkook raises his eyebrows, his expression unreadable, “No. Just a statement.”

You let out a breath through your nose, already feeling the hair on your nape stand, “You know, if you’re trying to say something, you could just say it instead of whatever... this is.” You wave a finger at him.

Jungkook’s jaw ticks slightly, and for a moment, you think he’s going to brush you off. Instead, he takes a step closer, “Fine. I don’t like him.”

Your eyes snap to his. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t like him,” Jungkook repeats, slower this time.

"Yes, you do? He's YOUR friend." You're stunned.

"Yeah, well, I don't like him around you." He'd almost seem childish if it weren't for the way he was looking at you. Like a... predator? Not in a creepy way because this was very invited.

Your brain scrambles to process his words but all you can focus on is how it makes you feel. A shiver runs down your spine.

“Jungkook,” you say finally, forcing your voice to stay calm, “you don’t get to have an opinion about that.”

He opens his mouth like he’s about to argue, but you cut him off before he can speak--- “You’re the one who wants this,” you speak a bit quieter, "-but I..." You abruptly stop yourself, biting the inside of your cheek.

"You what?"

You hesitate, but there’s no point in holding back now. “I didn’t want this,” you admit. You could hear your heart pounding. “And I didn’t have a choice, did I? Because if I said no, you would’ve walked away. And I didn’t want that either.”

Jungkook stares at you, his jaw tight and brows furrowed, like he’s holding himself back from saying something he’ll regret.

Jungkook looked genuinely confused, “That’s not fair. You can't put this on me."

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. "I know. I'm not blaming you."

There's another moment of silence.

"I didn’t want to hurt you,” he says finally, his voice was more gentle now, leaning towards apologetic.

You nod.

“Then maybe we shouldn’t have started this,” you could barely get the words out.

“I didn’t think it would get this complicated,” Jungkook admits, almost like he’s talking to himself.

You almost want to ask to be exclusive. Just the two of you. You really needed to retire that kind of wishful thinking.

Jungkook looks away and chugs his drink in a go. You hadn't noticed he even had one.

He avoids looking at you, choosing to observe random partygoers instead. You want to know what he's thinking.

You glance at his hand tucked into his pocket, briefly contemplating grabbing it.

Just when you slyly begin to inch your fingers closer to his, a third hand blocks you. It links itself with Jungkook's. You can only stupidly stare at their arms joined together, while yours hangs awkwardly mid-way.

Floor open. Swallow. Into the ground. Anytime now would be great.

"Jungkook, I'm ready to go. Take me home?" The blonde from earlier begins massaging his shoulder while you stare at the couple, dumbfounded.

Jungkook looked just as confused as you did, "Now?"

She leans in closer to whisper something into his ear, at the same time, allowing her hand to freely rub his chest, letting out a sensual giggle.

It's so obvious what she's trying to do here. Putting on a show just for you. She must see you as threat.

Jungkook briefly pulls away and glances back at the blonde, "Fine. Wait for me by the door?"

Her smile drops a little but she recovers with an exaggerated pout, "I don't know if I can be left unaccompanied any longer. Like five guys have tried to talk to me already. But I told them I'm here with you." She pokes his cheek.

That wasn't a very subtle jab at you and Hoseok.

As much as you want to push her off of Jungkook, you can admit she's not wrong. He's here with her. And the man you came with has left (momentarily or not, he still left the party.)

You don't know what you're doing standing there. There's no need for you to watch them, especially when Jungkook hasn't said a word to you in over five minutes.

Even though your conversation is long from over, it was apparent that nothing was happening today. It makes the most sense for you to walk away from them before you start crying.

Feigning disinterest, you pull your phone up and shoot Hoseok a quick text explaining your absence.

The party spirit has officially been sucked out of you by Jungkook through a giant straw jammed into your skull.

Jungkook's still speaking to his date but you've forcefully tuned them out, thinking about how you're going to take a long hot shower and change into freshly laundered clothes and hop into your comfy bed.

It's only when you abruptly walk away that you hear him call out to you. He sounded almost frantic.

"Is Hoseok back?"

You pause at that, "No, I'm heading back home as well."

"We'll walk you." Jungkook offers. It was more of a statement though.

You consider it just because of how pissed off his date looked. Her smile has been wiped off and she glared at you, daring you to accept Jungkook's offer.

Well, you guess you're both going to be having a bad night now.

"You know what? I'd like that."

note: so like it's my birthday (woohoo 🎉) and this is a little gift from me to you.... 🧍‍♀️

[king4aday]

A Postcard Story:

So for Dean's 46th this year, he decides to drag his husband around the states in Baby, ordering radio silence from his family to enjoy the open road, wherever the road takes them.

Here's a thread of postcards he sends Sam along the roadtrip:

Seattle was a nice place to start, people are kind and there's a lot of good food he's never tried. Dean was just glad that Cas could fly Baby with them to get there. Don't get him wrong, angel flight sucks too, for his stomach in particular, but it's nowhere near as bad as a plane.

When they drove into Cali, he was glad they managed to see the bridge in all it's glory. Real movie moment for him. They relaxed in Santa Cruz for a while, enjoying the views along the Pacific coast highway. He brought the Hawaiian shirts they bought when they all went to Gran Canaria a few summers ago as a family, getting nice tans before moving on.

Cas didn't let him rest for long when they got to L.A, asking Dean to hear him out before getting mad as he dragged him out. All frustration disappeared when they arrived at the studio though, Dean nerded out about the themed restaurants and rides while there was a mustard stain on his chin from chili dog he devoured. Cas was just happy to eat a burger and see Dean smile.

Tombstone flipped the tables for them. Now Cas loves his husband's passion, it's one of the most endearing qualities, he'd never let anyone dim the brightness he has talking about cowboys and westerns. But it can be a lot sometimes. He was committed to buying them both a full cowboy outfit before they left. Plus a hat for Jack, a buckle for Sam, new cowboy boots for Eileen and souvenirs he could hand out to the family.

Despite it being hot as balls, Dean loved being in Texas again. They ate some good authentic barbeque and went to a few museums Cas was interested in. Dean liked hearing him talk about the old buildings, the history and changes the landscape went through and Cas liked seeing Dean take selfies in front of the world's tallest cowboy boots, having to stop him promptly from climbing it and potentially breaking his back from a fall.

They took it slow in New Orleans, strolling down the french quarter like they were a couple courting in some Edwardian romance. It was warm but not oppressive, content to walk aimlessly, hand in hand, while the sounds of buskers playing strings echoed around the alleys. They danced under a street lamp, and kissed sweetly when the moon rose, all he could think about was how he felt safe in Cas' arms.

Dean loved it in Downtown, he felt right at home, locals welcoming him and Cas with open arms. They passed him free drinks when they saw their rings, pushed him on stage to sing some tipsy version of 'Should've been a cowboy'. Cas seemed to find it funny. He wouldn't say why.

He'd forgotten what a real Philly cheese steak was supposed to taste like but fuck him, he can't ever go back. One of the owners happily gave him the recipe, challenging him in recreating the sandwich he ordered. He's not got it perfect yet, but he's determined. At least Cas is a bottomless pit who can eat all the failed attempts he makes, zero waste fun!

New York was strange. He kept thinking about all the eccentrics and wide eyed kids who probably had dreams he'd never even considered before. At least when he looks at Cas now, he doesn't think he's done badly, hell maybe he's living a dream these New Yorkers wish they had too. He can't imagine what it's like to hedge all your scraped money and efforts on a chance of making it big as any kind of artist. He's pretty sure he already hit the jackpot with his life.

Teaching Cas to fish in Maine was a tumultuous task to put it nicely. Cas is already bitchy enough and Dean knows he can give as good as he gets, but they agreed never to go on a tiny boat alone together if one of them doesn't want to be drowned. Not to say they didn't have a good time though. They enjoyed the quiet of the calm waters and the breeze on their skin. Cas' first successful catch of the visit put them at ease, hell they were gonna drink a bottle of whiskey to celebrate, he got a pretty big one after all.

Cas was really making use of that sketchpad. He bought it for his husband a couple hundred miles back, noticing him sketching absent mindedly whenever there was a moment of reprieve. Dean hasn't seen everything inside, but he's seriously amazed at Cas' talent. Who knew right? It's a good way to store the memories, something more personal than the dorky couple selfies they took together in front of the falls. He'll look through them fondly later, remembering the time he took to enjoy his life, and enjoy Cas. Both things he's taken for granted before. He's learned his lesson now.

“It was awesome, seriously, and the water was so clear too, y'know? I asked Cas about Paradise falls on the way home” “The one in Venezuela?” Sam surmises, nursing his beer with a small smile. “Yeah! Well he said that he'd been a couple times centuries ago and it felt pretty magical then, and then I said ‘Did you know they're called Angel Falls too?’ and he gave me that look–” “I did not give you that look.” Cas frowns. “You totally did, Sam, you know the one.” “I did not give any looks, I just said that I was aware, and that was that.” Sam watches them both roll their eyes fondly at each other, hands definitely held together under the map table. “Whatever, my point is, we should totally go there together! I mean with the Angel flight express we could camp somewhere pretty close to the falls themselves.” “Like in 'Up' ? I'm in!” Jack says with a bright smile. Dean high fives him and Cas just sighs in exasperation. Eileen watches them all fondly, chin resting on her hand, likely feeling the same longing ache Sam does easing as she watches them all in the same space again. Sam missed this. He was really happy that Dean wanted to take time away for himself, for Cas too. They deserved to disappear from the world and live some of the life they both missed out on. But damn did he miss his family's regular bullshit, nothing makes him happier. “You know what, that sounds like a great idea.” Dean looks back at him with surprise, but it quickly shifts into that signature grin. “That's what I wanna hear! I knew I could count on you Sammy.” “How about we feed you before you go taking us to the other end of the world? Can't plan for reckless journeys on empty stomachs.” Ellen segways smartly. Dean claps his hands and points at her in agreement and they all start to get up to move. Sam sits and watches for a few seconds, just to be grateful for what he has. “Sammy, you good man?” Dean asks, looking back over his shoulder. “Yeah, yeah I'm good. Oh hey, Dean?” Dean raises his eyebrows in question. “Happy birthday.” Dean rolls his eyes, but smiles at him, and they walk together towards the kitchen.

💙💚

[emmasclaws]

summer lovin✿-rafe Cameron

social media/ irl au

you wanted a laid back and chill summer until one of your moms rich snobby friends lent you two rooms In her ridiculously huge summer house. now you're forced to hang out with her kids the entire summer.

pairings: rafe Cameron x mamas girl reader

warnings: low self esteem, curse words, sexual innuendos, eventual smut, angst, arguing. I'll add more if needed :)

(that's all the smau you'll get for now the juicy stuff hasn't happened yet and she's sorta a loser😭)

I looked up from my phone as I felt the car stop looking out of my window up at the big mansion like home that I'll be staying at for the next 4 months of my life "mama this is a huge house" you said unbuckling your seat belt. "no wonder she offered us to stay" my mom said sharing my awe and surprised at the size and beauty of the house. (I'm glazing)

after getting our bags from the car we approached the house before we could knock on the door a lady opened it who I assume was rose by the way her and my mom started squealing their hellos and hugging each other.

"oh and this must be your daughter! she looks just like her mama oh my god you are just beautiful" she said opening her arms gesturing me to give her a hug I obviously obliged not wanting to seem rude or disrespectful, first impressions are important."ok come I'll show you two to your rooms and then once y'all are settled I'll show you around the house".

As we walked into the house it was very warm and cozy. we walked up the stairs with my mom and rose chatting on about plans for themselves and planning family dinner that already sounded awkward. it was actually nice to see my mom getting along with people who weren't me.

"ok sweetie this is your room it's just one room away from my daughter Sarah's and right across from my son rafes room." she said while gesturing toward both rooms and opening the door to my room for me. "thank you so much Mrs. Cameron" I thanked her while putting my luggage in my room.

"ok so that was my room so now lemme show you the whole house." I said to bailey who I was facetimeing, I opened my door heading towards the stairs I stop in my tracks when I see the son rafe I hadn't expected him to be home so soon I thought he'd be out partying and doing what guys like him do, I only assumed this because I sorta kinda stalked his and his sisters instas but that doesn't matter rn.

"oh hi you must be the girl rose was talking about, y/n right?" he said as he fully got up the stairs. holy shit he was handsome how am I supposed to spend an entire summer with him." yeah I am your must be rafe, it's nice to meet you" I said with a soft smile on my face trying to hide the pure nerves inside of me right now.

"yeah nice to meet you too, well I'm going to my room see you later" he said as he walked off toward his room, I replied with mhm and a nod before staring right back at phone to see if bailey had just seen the absolute man that I just saw.

"oh my god? he was like so hot I guess you will find a hot guy this summer" she said in a quiet squeal "I know omg oh but anyways house tour girl" I said walking down the stairs and heading towards the kitchen. As I headed toward the kitchen I saw Sarah Cameron or on her Instagram Sarah Routledge she was scrolling on her phone while eating strawberries out of a bowl.

"oh hi your y/n right?, nice to meet you!!" Sarah said with a big smile and reaching for a hug, "yeah and you must be Sarah nice to meet you too!" I said with the same smile on my face, she's so pretty oh em gee. "y/n are you still there?? earth to y/n" bailey said from the phone, "yeah sorry omg" I apologized "I'm on the phone with my friend doing like a house tour you know" I explained to Sarah her eyes lit up with excitement before saying "omg lemme show you around I love showing the place come on follow me" she said getting up to show me and bailey the kitchen.

In the middle of the tour bailey said she had to go cause her mom was dragging her to the store to get groceries for dinner, so sarah out of kindness for her new house mate and her potentially new bestie decided to continue the tour and that's what they were doing right now. "ok so this is the movie room it's basically a movie theater except we can put YouTube and like all the other stuff on the big screen it's so fun we should have a movie night soon" she said while pointing at all the things she was describing. I was obviously answering and talking back to her but I was just really taking in the richness of it all I've never even had a tv in my room let alone a whole movie theater it was great.

a little while later and we had finished the tour as we headed up to our rooms she told me that rose had planned a breakfast for all of us to get to know each other and so we could all become friends? I don't know roses words not mine.

this chapter was a lot shorter then I wanted it to be but wtv next chapter will be longer trust me I hope you liked it and if there're any critiques plz give them!

[hiimcanadia]

I think along with Izzy being just as obsessed with Blackbeard in modern AUs as he is in canon, Pete also needs to be just as obsessed in his own way. If Izzy is going "Edward I'm not going to let you throw away your reputation as the best waffle house manager the world has ever seen for some [slur redacted]" then Pete needs to be standing 10 feet away going "Holy shit Lucius that's Blackbeard! The man who became a waffle house manager in just two weeks by being able to cook a sausage perfectly every time!!! Do you think he'd autograph the receipt for me?? 😍😍😍"