#idk what is this i just had this scenario so intensely in my head

[elilelibeli]

When Regulus starts dating James, Barty and Evan are super iffy with him. They are like complaint machines thinking James is this judgy goody two shoes guy. So one time James is hanging out with them alone so he can “win them over” but Barty and Evan have this secret agenda to mess with James and scare him or wtv.

So they take him to get drugs, they are thinking that James will get scared to meet their dealer who has face scars and always grumbles and doesn’t say two words to them. Barty and Evan are intimidated by him, but at the same time they have a huge crush on the dude cause he is scary and quiet and fucking hot. So they say to James something like “if you get weed from this super scary dealer you will prove to us that you are not some uptight softy” James is super intimidated at first but then he overhears Barty and Evan saying how The Wolf will scare James and The Wolf this and The Wolf that so James knows exactly who they are meeting, but he shuts up to win against Barty and Evan in their own game.

So they go to meet the infamous Wolf and Barty and Evan stay behind so James can go and meet the scary guy alone. When they see the Wolf approaching with his usual grumbling they snigger and wait for the show.

But instead of usual, cold and intimidating interactions they see the big and scary Wolf fucking smile.

“Oh Jamie (Jamie?? What the fuck?) what are you doing here, I thought I was meeting the blond kid and his weird boyfriend.(boyfriend?? What the hell?)”

“Oh Hi Moons (Moons??? For gods sake what the fuck is going on? how does James know this guy?), yeah the weeds for them, just asked me to get it for them, some kind of test I think, they are Reg’s friends.”

“Oh fuck Sirius is going to kill me, his baby brother’s best friends are my best clients.”

“Well, he will love the new bike you paid with their money tho.” (Fuck even Regulus’s brother knows this guy????)

As Barty and Evan look back and forth at Moons (?) and Jamie (????) hugging (???????) and each others dumbfounded faces, they realize that James is not a goody two shoes, he definitely isn’t what they thought and they will definitely be getting on well with him and his super hot, weed dealing, weird nickname having friends.

[r6eduss]

Girllll what if an imagine where S3! Daryl and y/n are a thing and when Daryl left with his brother, rick and the others were the one who told y/n that he just left and she was so devastated that when daryl eventually came back she treated him coldly then eventually breaking down in front of him because they think it's easy for daryl to leave them

Idk maybe angsty in the beginning then fluffy at the end?? This scenario is stuck in my head for D A Y S 😩

Anws thanks!!

Listen before I go.

•Summary: Daryl leaves with Merle without thinking how it would affect you. (Fem Reader)

•Warnings: 18+, Twd violence, angst, fluff

•Word count: 2.6k

•Setting: The Prison

•A/N: thank you for the request! I’m really sorry if this isn’t what you wanted and you aren’t happy with it 😭 I rewatched a couple episodes to try and make it as accurate as possible to the actual series. also I’m a very strong believer that Daryl would call his partner sweetheart 🤞🏼(I promise I’ve seen all the other requests I’ve gotten!)

Rick, Daryl, and Oscar had set out to rescue Glenn and Maggie, who were being held prisoner in Woodbury. Michonne had accompanied them, serving as their guide through the hostile territory. The operation, however, hadn't gone as smoothly as planned. They had lost Oscar in the chaos, and the Governor had captured Daryl, forcing him into a brutal situation—pitting him against his own brother, Merle.

As the dust settled and the group reconvened, Glenn and Michonne stayed behind to watch over the car while Rick and Maggie went back for Daryl, determined not to leave him behind. Against their better judgment, they returned with more than just Daryl—Merle had tagged along, at Daryl’s insistence. Now, back at the car, an intense discussion was brewing over whether Merle and Michonne should be brought back to the prison.

“The Governor is probably headin’ to the prison righ’ now. Merle knows how he thinks and we could use the muscle,” Daryl’s eyes locking on Rick, his tone resolute. One way or another, he was bringing his brother back.

Tension radiated from Glenn and Maggie. Glenn, still nursing wounds from Merle’s brutal interrogation, was barely containing his anger. Maggie stood close, her face tight with the memory of her own trauma at the hands of the Governor. “He had a gun to our heads! You really want him sleeping in the same cell block as Carol or Beth?” Glenn's voice shook, both with fury and concern for his family’s safety.

Daryl shot back quickly, defensive. “He ain’t a rapist.” But Glenn was faster. His words were sharp, cutting through Daryl’s protest like a knife. “Well his buddy is.”

Daryl’s face tightened. “They ain’t buddies no more. Not after last night,” he said, growing more frustrated. To him, this was simple—Merle was family. Family was non-negotiable. Why was this even up for debate?

Rick, observing the growing argument, finally stepped in, his voice measured but firm. “There’s no way Merle’s gonna live there without putting everyone at each other’s throats.”

Daryl’s patience was fraying. “So ya gon’ cut Merle loose and bring the last samurai home with us?” His irritation was clear. They were even considering taking Michonne—someone they barely knew—while debating his own brother?

The group paused as Maggie spoke up, her voice softer but filled with conviction while gesturing towards Michonne. “She’s in no state to be on her own,” The trauma they'd all just endured weighed heavily on her, and she couldn't understand why Daryl seemed blind to it.

Rick and Daryl exchanged a look. They had their doubts about Michonne, and Rick had voiced that, telling the group that she’s not going back with them. “That’s righ’, we don’t know who she is. But Merle? Merle’s blood.” Daryl threw the statement out like it should end the conversation, as if everyone would automatically agree.

But Glenn’s response was immediate and cold. “No, Merle is your blood. My family is right here. And they’re waiting for us back at the prison.” His words hung in the air, heavy with finality. Maggie nodded in agreement, she wasn’t about to let Merle, of all people, endanger what little they had left.

Rick stepped closer to Daryl, his voice steady, attempting to bridge the growing divide. “And you're part of that family, Daryl. Not him.”

The statement struck Daryl hard. He looked baffled, wounded even. If they considered him family, why wouldn’t they accept his brother? “Man, y’all don’t know.” He shook his head, anger and confusion swirling inside him.

The silence that followed was tense. Everyone stared at Daryl, unsure of what more they could say. In their eyes, the decision was obvious—but for Daryl, it was far from simple. Finally, Daryl exhaled sharply. “Fine. We’ll fend for ourselves.”

The words hung in the air like a threat, and instantly the group erupted in protests. There was panic now, a desperation to keep Daryl from making a stupid decision out of anger. “No him, no me,” Daryl snapped, his voice thick with frustration. He felt cornered, like there was no room for him to protect both his blood and his new family.

Maggie stepped forward, “Daryl, you don’t have to do this.” He looked at her, and for a moment, his hardened expression faltered. “It was always Merle and me before this,” he said quietly, the pain in his voice clear. He was torn, and it was written all over his face.

Glenn, still reeling from everything, asked a question that Daryl forgot to consider in the heat of the moment. “What do you want us to tell Y/N?” It was a simple question, but one that carried so much weight. They both knew it would devastate you.

Daryl hesitated, his gaze dropping. “She’ll understand.” But there was a crack in his voice, a hint of uncertainty, deep down he knew that you in fact wouldn’t understand. The group fell silent, letting the gravity of the moment sink in.

For a long moment, Daryl stood there, chewing on the inside of his lip, torn between his past and his present. Finally, he began moving, heading toward the car. “Say goodbye to your pop for me.” Directing his comment towards Maggie. Rick quickly followed, refusing to let this situation go. “Hey, hey. There’s got to be another way,” he pleaded, knowing how hard this would hit not just Carol but you too.

Daryl paused, his back still to Rick. “Don’t ask me to leave him,” he said, accent thick as ever. “I already did tha’ once.” Arriving at the trunk he begins stuffing supplies into his bag, while telling Rick and them to take care of themselves. He hoists it over his shoulder, glancing one last time at the group, and walking away with Merle.

You stood quietly, arranging your belongings. Your cell had become somewhat of a sanctuary for you, a space to shape, however fragile, into a semblance of back home. You carefully sat down on your bed, deciding that you were going to nap, until you heard a knock, and saw Rick standing just outside. His hands rested against the cracked walls, not wanting to intrude too much. “How are you doing?” he asked, his voice very careful.

You offered a smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “I’m okay.” It was silent for a moment, you could tell he had more to say. “Is everything okay?” Rick slowly brought his gaze from your face to the ground, wondering how he could bring the news to you. “Listen.. Daryl’s gone. Left with Merle.”

Your heart lurched violently in your chest, but outwardly, you kept still, trying to keep your breath steady while each inhale felt like swallowing glass. “Is he coming back?” He was coming back right? You two had something special did you not?

Rick’s expression was one of apology, his shoulders heavy with the weight of what he had broke to you. “I don’t know. He told me you’d understand.” Understand? Understand that Daryl had chosen to abandon the love you thought you both had? Without even saying goodbye?

“Okay.” You replied softly, your voice refusing to betray the devastation roaring inside you. You couldn’t fall apart, and especially not in front of Rick.

He lingered for a moment longer, “if you need anything..—“

“I’ll be fine, Rick. Thank you.”

He gave you a solemn nod before stepping back into the hallway, the silence in your cell feeling almost suffocating. You sat frozen for a very long moment, staring at ceiling. Then, like a dam breaking, the tears came, hot and unbidden, blurring your vision as the enormity of it all crashed down on you. You sank onto your bed, your body shaking with silent sobs and your heart aching in ways you hadn’t expected. You’ve always known that Daryl was complicated, guarded.. but why did he leave? Were you not important enough to him? Did you really mean that little? A hundred questions burned in your mind, and none of them had answers.

It felt like an eternity before the next day finally arrived. The night had been restless, your mind circling endlessly around one thing, and that one thing was Daryl. The way he had just stood up and left you behind, it left a pit in your stomach that only deepened with each passing hour. But today, you had bigger problems, problems that made personal heartache seem almost insignificant.

Glenn was gone, in attempts to clear his mind. With Daryl gone and Rick wandering crazy town, he was the next in charge, and right now he had a lot of pent up anger on what the governor did to Maggie. But of course, while he was gone, the Governor had made his move, and it was brutal. His forces stormed the prison with a cold, ruthless efficiency, and everything erupted before you had time to prepare. Axel was the first to fall, a sharp crack of gunfire cutting through the air as he crumpled to the ground, lifeless. Carol, who had been standing just beside him, let out a sharp cry of shock. In a heartbeat she ducked behind Axel’s now motionless body, using him as a shield.

Bullets ripped through the air, the deafening sound of gunfire filling the space as you scrambled for cover. You crouched behind the crumbling remains of the prison walls that were near the gate, heart hammering in your chest, adrenaline surging through your veins. You clutched your rifle tightly, hands shaking slightly as you peeked out from behind the wall, eyes scanning for targets.

There. One of the Governor's men was in your line of sight, crouched low, his rifle trained on the courtyard. Without hesitating, you aimed and pulled the trigger. The recoil jolted your body, but you didn't wait to see if you hit your mark. You ducked back behind the wall, the echo of gunfire ringing in your ears. Around you, The group fought just as hard, each of them locked in their own battles.

As you leaned out again, carefully scanning for your target who you hadn’t known already retreated, your eyes fell on Herschel, who was still exposed in the courtyard. Rick, positioned just outside the fences, was also in a precarious situation. At that moment, the Governor and his men launched an assault, sending a car to smash through the courtyard fence. Herschel, crouched in the field with his rifle, began to feel the weight on him as walkers started to flood in from every direction.

The fear was palpable among you, Rick, and especially Maggie as you all dreaded the possibility of losing Herschel. Just as the Governor began to leave, Glenn had returned, driving into the courtyard while Michonne followed the truck, cutting through the walkers that stood in her way. Their intervention was a lifesaver; they quickly rescued Herschel, escorting him into the truck and out of the courtyard, into the safety of the prison gates.

Outside, Rick was struggling to fend off the relentless walkers closing in on him. Just when things seemed dire, a bolt flew through the air, striking the head of the walker attacking Rick. Daryl and Merle had returned, joining forces with Rick to clear the remaining walkers. Daryl and the rest of your family were okay.. and that’s all you needed to know before bolting back toward your cell, trying your best to avoid the archer in the process.

A couple hours later you found yourself sat on your bed, running your fingers absentmindedly over the pages of an old journal you started keeping. Without looking up, you could heard the familiar sound of boots shuffling just outside your cell. Daryl stood awkwardly in the doorway, his hand brushing against the frame of the cell, his shoulders hunched slightly as though the weight of the world rested on them. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, the air between them thick with tension.

"Hey," he muttered finally, his voice gravelly and hesitant.

You looked up at him then, your expression unreadable. Daryl shifted his weight, uncomfortable under your gaze. Without a word, you stood and brushed past him, your shoulder grazing his as you walked out of the cell. Daryl flinched at the contact, his jaw tightening. The cold shoulder hit him harder than any words could have, and as he watched you walk away, he felt the guilt gnawing at his insides.

The distance between you two only grew more unbearable. As the days flew by, you continued to ignore him, feeling as if he didn’t deserve your attention, while Daryl found himself missing the soft touch of your hand, the warmth you brought into his life that no one else ever could. He couldn’t stay away any longer. He needed to fix this.

He found you sitting on the edge of your bed again, scribbling quietly in your journal like yesterday, not looking up when he entered, just blatantly ignoring him.

"Damn it, why’re ya avoidin’ me?" His frustration finally boiled over, his voice harsher than he meant it to be. You paused, setting the journal down slowly before looking up at him with steely eyes, the walls around you finally beginning to crack. "Why did you leave, Daryl?" Your was voice trembling but controlled, laced with anger. "Was it that easy?"

Daryl froze, his usual tough exterior faltering. He wasn’t used to being confronted like this, especially by you. He fidgeted, biting the inside of his lip. "It ain’t like that… Merle— he’s my blood."

"And what am I, Daryl?" You instantly snapped, voice rising higher as your emotions spilled over. "Why was it so easy for you to leave me? You didn’t even say goodbye. Did you not care?" Daryl’s gaze fell to the ground, avoiding yours at all costs. “I wasn’t thinkin’ straight”

Your eyes instantly widened in disbelief and hurt. “You left me here, alone, when I thought we had something! You weren’t even clear headed enough to think about how it would affect me!” Daryl flinched at edge of your voice. “I didn’t know what to do! I was tryin’ to do what I thought was right.”

You stood up abruptly, your anger radiating off you. “What was right?! You think abandoning me without a word is doing what’s right? Why’d you even come back if clearly all you needed was Merle.”

Your words cut deeper than any wound he’d ever taken. He stood there, staring at you, the silence stretching painfully between you both. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I came back 'cause I realized I love ya."

Your heart fluttered at his words, the anger in your eyes softening, though the hurt was still there. For a very long pause you just stared at him, scanning his eyes for any possible doubt for what he just admitted to you. “..Actually?” You really couldn’t believe it, you never thought he’d be the one to say those words first, but he did. All You wanted to do was stay mad, to push him away for making you feel like you didn’t matter, but the vulnerability in his voice stopped you. He again chewed the inside of his lips and nodded slowly to answer your question. "I’m sorry." he mumbled, looking down. He looked like he was about to cry, and in that very moment you just wanted to nurture him.

So without thinking, you closed the distance and wrapped your arms around him. Daryl tensed at first, his back stiffening at the unexpected embrace, but after a moment, he slowly relaxed, his arms wrapping around you in return and leaning down into your neck, feeling comfortable and safe.

"I love you too.. but don’t ever leave me again."

Daryl leaned back and pressed a gentle kiss onto your forehead, lingering just for a moment. “I won’t, sweetheart.”

And that was a promise he’d never break. Not for anybody.

@vampiresluv

[7ndipity]

Just found your blog and LOVE your bts headcanons so much… after having watched Are You Sure?!, I need all your NSFW headcanons for OT7 as your boyfriend… please please please 🔥

Random NSFW Headcanons

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: Random spicy headcanons about the members

Warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, unprotected sex(don’t do this), breeding kinks, mentions of edging, oral(m. & f. receiving), bondage, sensory deprivation, dom/sub dynamics, somnophilia, voyeurism, idk there’s a bunch of stuff lol

A/N: You want my hcs? I’ll give ‘em, hehehe😈 Hope you like them!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Jin:

Okay, I’m gonna make some of y’all real happy by saying, although I still think he’s mostly switch/sub leaning, he does have a dom streak in him. Like as much as he loves letting you lead him like a puppy on a leash(sometimes literally), nothing quite gets him off the same as taking control and pounding into you until you’re his empty headed baby, only able to whimper is his name.

He’s also a big fan of sensory deprivation, both giving and receiving. Blindfolds, handcuffs, etc. He loves the heightened sensitivity that they create, turning even the lightest touches insanely intense.

Has a major thing for cumming in you that it’s bordering on a breeding kink. Like tell him that you want him to cum in you, and he’ll propose on the spot💍

Yoongi:

He’s definitely into bondage and shibari(he’s been tied up/handcuffed wayy too many times in music videos to not be, lol) tho it would take a bit of coaxing to get him to admit it. There’s just something about trying out different knots and restraint styles, both on him and you, that intrigues and excites him.

Lowkey into angry sex, but not when he’s angry with you. It’s more those days when he comes home frustrated from the studio and he just wants to scream, so he makes it his mission to make you scream instead, hehe.

Has recorded himself getting off for you and thought about sneaking it into the background sounds of one of his Agust D tracks(might have actually done it, but he won’t admit it bc he’s a menace and likes to fuck with your head, so you’re just sat listening to every little detail on his demos, lol)

Hobi:

This boy is a certifiable freak, you cannot convince me otherwise. Like except for a relatively small list of hard no’s, he’s open to playing around and testing out pretty much any sort of kink/scenario that you might be interested in.

Lowkey very into the idea of watching you fuck one of his friends rapline whats up?, guiding them on just how to touch you, watching the way your face scrunches up in pleasure, just to turn around and fuck you into oblivion afterwards.

Man adores having his head between your thighs and actively begs you to ride his face. And don’t even think of arguing that you’re too heavy or whatever, bc he’ll spend the next hour worshiping your body and showering you with so much praise that you won’t be able to think, let alone remember any of your insecurities🫠

Namjoon:

Although we’ve established he’s definitely more of a daddy dom, he definitely has a weakness for you taking the lead or being on top(“pro rider, hohohoho rider” I had to, I'm sorry). Something about him being under you, watching the way your body moves on top of his, feeling the way you take him so perfectly, just makes his brain go hazy🤤

Idk if he’s fully aware that it’s a kink/thing, but he’s definitely into temperature play. Ice cubes, hot wax, even just blowing cool air over his skin makes him tingly in all the right ways. 

He loves to tease you at the worst moments. Like you could be on phone with a friend or whoever, and he’ll let his hands start to ghost along your arms, down your sides, across your chest, between your thighs… seeing just how long it takes before your voice and focus start to waver, quickly hanging up and giving him your full attention

Jimin:

*cough*ropebunny*cough* Sorry, what?

No but fr, he loves being tied up in different pretty styles of shibari, but he treats it like an art form, with different silk ropes and ribbons. He wants to feel pretty and treasured, caressed with soft voices and sweet words, regardless of if you’re teasing and edging him to tears.

Lowkey into semi-public sex, teasing you at dinner with his friends with his hand creeping along your thigh under the table till you’re squirming and begging him to find an excuse for you both to be excused for a minute. Dude will fully have you shaking and seeing stars and then walk out of the bathroom like nothing happened.

Definitely the biggest fan of aftercare out of all the members, like he treats it as more of a sensual spa night for the two of you; candlelit baths together, gentle massages to work out any tense muscles, cuddling in bed that might turn into cockwarming or a very sleepy round two... 

Taehyung:

Definitely into taking photos of the two of you, both on his phone and on his retro film cameras. Man turned his guest room into his own studio/darkroom and learned how to develop film by himself so that no one else but you would see his artwork.

Loses his goddamn mind every time you go down on him. Like if you ever wanna make his mind go completely blank, all you have to do is let him feel your warm, wet mouth close around his length, and he’s absolute putty in your hands.

Feel like he’s very into lingerie, both for you and himself. He loves feeling like a pretty present for you to open and play with, and vice versa. You literally came home on your birthday to him waiting for you in some pretty little silk number with a bow on his head as your gift.

Jungkook:

Although I’ve said before he’s a dom leaning switch, when he subs, he lets go completely. He loves letting his mind shut off and being at your mercy, letting you take control and turning him into a needy whining mess. 

For the similar reason, he has a major dumbifacation kink, both giving and receiving. He loves the idea of being fucked to the point that your mind goes completely blank and all you can think and focus on is how you make each other feel.

Definitely has a thing for somnophilia, again both giving and receiving. The thought of touching and teasing each other, your bodies reacting purely out of instinct, seeing how long it takes for you to wake up so that you can fuck each other properly, the whole thing makes him crazy. His favorite way to wake up, 5 stars, highly recommend🤭

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @universal-travel-er @k4ngelz

[anantaru]

MR. & MRS. RAGNVINDR

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — following your wedding with your soulmate diluc ragnvindr, you find yourself celebrating your new bond on your wedding night.

— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 1.2k

— ꒰ a/n ꒱ — repost of one of my favorite fics of mine <3

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, very soft but also rough idk, he calls you: my wife

"d—diluc.."

a short heaved dwindle of air runs over diluc's neck as he sensually places a kiss on your cheek— right then you taste the transparent love his person held towards you and it flickers and bleeds into your skin featherlight, bodies intertwined and moving in a passionate conjunction.

the crawl of his longing for you wordlessly webs and adjusts to both your saturated cunt and his cock pressing close, breathing clear wrecked with your pulse heightened.

"it's not necessary to use my name." he corrects you, slurred, "i'm your husband now, don't tell me you forgot already?"

and diluc shyly smirks into your lips as he pulls himself into your spongy cunt and expertly wiggles his hips to make sure you're sensing it, all of him, but most efficiently his need and desire to make you, his precious wife, cum and thoroughly pleased.

you try again, trying your utmost hardest to voice anything with your wet lips being perked up all prettily in a well formed pout, holding yourself tight against your husbands body as he worked you both to an everlasting climax. your nails clawed on his defined back and wielded razor sharp scratches on his skin— while between you and him, diluc loved the burn on his flesh the second you claim and mark him up in that precise manner.

"my husband.." the red haired cocks a brow and lifts his head off your neck upon gathering your words, "yes, my wife?"

his cheeks are flushed and couldn’t possible be hidden from you while his pace on you had gotten steadier and pathed faster, and he makes sure to circle his hips whenever he pushes himself in completely, whenever your warm and wet walls would shape and set just right around his shaft.

"i love you." a shaded stream of higher pitched whines and sniffles float around the humid room as diluc groans at this one particular sentence that would always manage to give him the purest kind of intimacy and love. "i love you too."

of course he does, diluc ragnvindr has been making it very obvious each and every day. but tonight, he wanted to make this special day even more extraordinary— while most importantly, was diluc eager to show you all of his skills and tricks in a whole different scenario.

by all means, as one might have already deducted, you two have been intimate in the past, many many times before, while now the pleasuring feeling was growing a tenfold and much more intense, as if you were going to explode from his tip pushing and passing the tight ring of your pussy.

diluc silently wraps your body into his arms and pushes himself forward until you‘re practically squished in between the mattress and his chest— well, breathing room although limited, with the new acquired position he was now able to reach deeper and better into your cunt. his eyes are flickering down on where your softness was constricting and spreading nice and wide, he was so big and you tremble when he began to move once again.

his hips too, were unstoppable and skilled in what they did and your honeyed cries— your moans and begs, fuck, they were his all out favorite if he had to choose one instance, especially when you spelled out the new title he only took possession off tonight.

"this.." it's disgustingly delightful when he speaks within groans, "this is forever." you gush on him and a silent scream rumbles in your belly.

"we're forever."

lustfully— and punctuated, he rolls his girth back into you and scratches your walls, the pink tip repeatedly mushing in your wet spots and interlacing with you. underneath his bangs, you find his eyes aflame, warm and flowing because diluc couldn't get enough of watching you— your squeezed eyes reeking in crystallines from an unfaltering overstimulation, or those lips he had kissed many times before now apart and gifting him with hazed hordes of winces and moans.

sweat matted itself on your coruscating bodies but it only forced your hips to retract their position and close a little up, so you could fuck yourself into him and meet his piercing pace half way. "archons— fuck!" you can feel every twitch on his length and you're clearing his shaft with your liquids, subsequently leaving it to prance down your thighs and stick on the mattress.

"fuck— diluc!" your body suddenly jolts in a manifold of cabling tingles at your lovers following thrust, it was rougher than his usual ones, as if he was trying to silently tell you that you, again, addressed him wrong.

"I'm sorry." you throw your hips upwards and hear him groan repeatedly, signaling his climax benching in his core, "my husband." though you whimper, you spread your legs apart for him more and left it to diluc and his new feral pace to taunt you wider, convulsing on his creamy cock plastered with your slick.

"where— where do you want me, my wife?" his nails sink into your thighs to practically push you back and forth his cock, his head thrown back and exposing his well formed adams apple bobbing up and down. "inside, need it inside, please!"

changing the angles, diluc shifts on the bed, after all, he wants to obey to your requests and split your entrance to make proper space for his smooth cum stuffing you right. he tilts his head back towards you and suffocates the distance of your lips to kiss you when you both deliriously moan into each other and nod frantically, his first spurts of thick cum rushing into you.

the large wave of your own climax was then sneakily closing on your body as you shivered under the towering hold of your lover, your screams loud and hazy, jamming hard as you both fucked yourself through your orgasm.

your toes curl inwards as your legs flew up to clench around his hips, barely comprehending the soul touching stir as he kept fucking you through it all, your bodies drenched in cum and slick but none of you seemed to care, it was the least of your problems, if anything, it wasn't to be called a problem at all.

"fuck, fuck!" it's such a shame you couldn't listen to his whines forever on end, how filthy someone so well behaved like diluc ragnvindr himself could sound at times.

"kiss me again." he asks and you listen, pulling him close for a wet, sloppy peck that was more teeth and tongue than anything else. you snap your fingers into his long hair and tug lightly, smiling as he grunts into you.

no matter how many times you'd do it together, diluc would always end up shy afterwards, as if he didn't just fuck you into oblivion and beyond, right now, he can barely look at you— eyes closed as he continued to search and suck on your bottom lip.

you're hyper aware of this, on what you were able to inflict on him, but now, you can't say anything, voice lost and throat hurting from your on-going moans and cries. with that, he holds his hips still before slowly pulling out of you, his cock semi erect and gradually softening, utterly spent.

glowing red eyes, now fluttering apart and finding yours, unraveling all at once. diluc certainly could never get used to this, not even after making you his wife.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[yueebby]

Ok so this is a random and weird scenario i thought of after watching some INTERESTING videos on YouTube, I know but I just need to tell someone(it involves lovesick!Gojo- and no this isn’t a request, more like a rant😭)

imagine- it’s summer and all the second year students are sweating and want something cool to eat. Satoru randomly brings in a watermelon and challenges the others to try and open it without any cursed energy or a knife, just pure raw strength. Nobody can do it except him and he laughs a bit before reader crushes the watermelon between her thighs and opens it just like that…IDK Y I THOUGHT OF THIS AND IDK HOW HE WOULD REACT TO THAT BUT I IMAGINE HE WOULD BE RED IN THE FACE AND LIKE ‘me next🙋‍♂️’ IM SRY IM AWARE THIS IS VERY WEIRD😭😭

2:35pm — gojo satoru

synopsis. a certain challenge makes gojo go feral for you

contents. fluff, CRACK, lovesick!gojo, he is (highkey) a pervert, everyone in jujutsu tech is sick of him

“The one and only Gojo Satoru is here to save the day~” The familiar drawl of a sing-song voice calls over the sound of the dingy fan that you and Shoko were huddling in front of. Both of you were sprawled on a tatami mat with the door wide hoping, hoping to catch a gust of wind.

The grin adorned on his face didn't falter when his only response was three annoyed groans.

“It is way too hot for your antics Gojo,” You look up from the fan to half heartedly glare at the white haired boy in front of you. He stares at you, blue eyes slightly wider than usual before he gulps. You brush it off, knowing that you probably looked like a mess, considering you had just finished training in the sweltering Tokyo heat.

Your usual uniform is long gone, replaced with the dress shirt that you wear below it. Even with the undershirt and your skirt, you’re still suffering from the particularly hot day, skin glowing in the sun as a silent testament.

Gojo is forcibly kicked out of his trance upon Suguru harshly bumping shoulders with him.

“Show them what we got,” Suguru’s smooth voice says. Your eyes follow down to whatever he was referring to.

Without any difficulty, Satoru holds up a large watermelon proudly. Your mouth nearly waters at the sight of the large green fruit. How refreshing!

“Ah you didn’t have to go through the trouble after your mission, Suguru!” You leap from your spot, a bright smile painting itself on your face.

The pleased look on Satoru’s face turns sour. “I was the one that brought the watermelon?” He lifts the large fruit, flexing the muscles that were showcased from his dress shirt being cuffed up to his forearms.

“I should be the one getting the thanks, it was my idea to get it in the first place,” Shoko wraps an arm around your shoulder.

The taller boys in front of you look sheepishly away under her stern gaze.

You wrap an affectionate arm around her, “You’d make a good wife one day Shoko.”

Gojo’s jaw drops incredulously, leaning closer into your face, “What about me? [Name]! Wouldn’t I be a good doting husband too?”

You lean away, flustered at his sudden confrontation. His intense blue orbs never leave your face, expectantly waiting for an answer.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Shoko snorts, shielding you from his heavy gaze. “Anyways, how are we going to cut this thing? You brought a knife didn’t you?”

…

There is a long silence shared between the four of you.

You think you see an irk mark appear on Suguru’s forehead.

“I clearly told you to bring a knife from the kitchen,” Suguru snaps his head to his white haired counterpart.

“Must’ve slipped my mind, heh,” Satoru whistles. “We can just break it ourselves, no?”

TEN MINUTES LATER—

“Ready,” Satoru’s smile grows wide. “Go!”

You watch expectantly as Shoko’s hand descends onto the watermelon in a swift chop. To your shock, the watermelon stays unharmed despite the legs of the wooden table below it creaking loudly.

“Wha–?” She furrowed her eyebrows.

Satoru shrugs, “Better stop smoking and start training. You’re falling behind~”

You and Geto have to hold Shoko back from lunging at the smug white haired bastard.

“Next challenger, step up!” Satoru announces.

Fueled with hunger and the desire to get your hands on the juicy watermelon that awaits, you sit down on the cement floor of the school with the watermelon in your lap.

You gently place the fruit in between your thighs, inhaling slowly.

Squish!

The watermelon breaks in half with a crunch.

“Oh,” You blink in shock, surprised that your plan managed to work. “I did it.”

Your joy is short lived when you realize that your legs are sticky as a result of the juices of the fruit. A sheepish smile makes its way onto your lips.

“Gah–?!” Gojo chokes on air as he watches your thighs glisten with the sunlight. Though his mouth is agape, no words seem to escape. He’s nearly certain that the heat rushing throughout his body is not from the sun.

Shoko whistles, squatting down to eye level with your thigh to assess the damage done. She gives your thigh a good squeeze, “Nice legs.”

You’re too flustered to hear Gojo growl from just a couple of feet away at Shoko’s shameless attempt at flirting.

“My face next.”

extras:

- the only reason why satoru forgot to get a knife was because he was practically skipping to you once he got through the gates of jujutsu tech. suguru was nice enough to spare these details from you.

- despite all sorcerers being able to detect cursed energy, gojo satoru is pretty exceptional, being able to mask his cursed energy usage. that, and you were too tired to even notice it. (he lightly coated the watermelon right when each person went up to break it. suguru noticed immediately, but wanted to see how the prank would play out).

[ivysangel]

Okay but a threesome with Dick and Jason. what would that be like? Are they competing to see who makes you come harder? Does each try to out do the other because he’s secretly jealous? Are they gonna Eiffel Tower? Is one really sweet while the other is being aggressive and rough? I need opinions.

-🧸

honey i am so so so so so sorry. this has been sitting in my drafts for so long and i hope you're still around to see it! i already wrote a lil smth smth about this a while ago here but allow me to elaborate.

i think the dynamic can get pretty crazy because dick can get wayyy nasty; not to say jason doesn't either, but i don't think jason would get crazy nasty in front of dick. dick's there to overstimulate you, tease you, play around with you, and bring you to the edge and back and then over, and jason's there to comfort you through it. i think they both could be "he talks you through it," guys, but in this specific scenario, i think it would be jason who sweet talks you, whispers in your ear, tells you you're doing so good for them, and quiets you down when you get too loud. i don't really know how to explain it, but he'd be the comforting presence out of the two of them, not even taking a submissive role or anything, just not as actively winding you up as much as dick.

dick, a menace as always, treats it like a game. how many times can he make you cum before you're begging for a break, and how many different ways can he make it happen. i think he'd be like that on a normal day, too, but i feel like it's very amplified in this situation because however this threesome happens, it's a very tense and intimate affair, out of character for both of them and, therefore everything about it is just different (?) i can't even think of a good way to explain it other than the next morning you're all kinda like woah. lost all inhibition the night before and don't really know how to go back to the way things were. he's quick to get nasty; he's the one eating you out while jason is kissing your neck and lightly grazing your skin, touching and squeezing, etc. the combination of both of them is really just insane, and both of their actions, in tandem, are what makes it so much more intense.

i do think they could be eiffel tower guys, but idk, i think (and walk with me here)…double penetration might be the way they go. like, you can't say, "dick grayson is an ass man," without admitting that he'd probably be into anal, so boom. and if your pussy is open, then yeah, ofc jasons taking it; it just makes sense TO ME. it's definitely a lot and not for the faint of heart, and you have to hold onto one (or both) of them while you get used to the sensation and while they find a nice rhythm, so it feels good for all three of you. during this part, the talking might die down just because you're all so in the moment; it's definitely out of character for dick because he's a D1 yapper, but it's cool cuz he was dirty talking so much during the foreplay, like lifting his head from between your legs just to look you in the eye and say something nasty.

i'm also ngl i could see the roles reversed where jason is eating you out or fingering you, and dick is the one whispering crazy shit in your ear. i could see it working both ways, but the first more so.

when i tell you this would be probably the best orgasm you've ever had, i mean that. there's just so much that went into it that there's really no way you aren't gasping for air and clutching your chest when it's over. damn near passing out, and they gotta shake you a little to make sure you're still kicking. and it's not even really over because if you show any semblance of energy after, they might try to go another round i fear.

[amialunatic]

Heyyy! I’d love to see some dom!sam head canons, or maybe an nsfw alphabet if you’re interested in writing one!

ok I know this is late but I was just a tad nervous about actually writing hehe.

This is my first writing in general. So yeah, idk how good it is, but I hope you enjoy it !!

NSFW Alphabets

Sam Winchester (Season 1-6. With the exception of demon blood, and soulless Sam)

If anyone likes any of the particular scenarios, give me a request. I could write more about them.

Words: 1k

Warning: nsfw. Minors DNI.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Normally, very sweet. Cuddling you, gently caressing you where he was rough with you. Brushing the marks he left on you, treating you like a precious jewel. (I plan to write another one for soul-less Sam because I need more exposure to him. I'm in S6 rn)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Everywhere, but somehow it feels like Sam would love your neck. Gently nipping with his teeth, drawing out your gasps. He is very modest, so he doesn’t admit to having any favorite body parts of his. (Mine is his back and chest though, omfg I die)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Inside you (protected of course), even though he is scared of having kids and a family, thus passing down his toxic family dynamics, he secretly loves the idea of breeding you. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He sometimes hates that he loves pain. It makes him feel like the devil he believes he is. So he tries to keep that side inside himself. Sometimes, you can push past his limits and set free the untamed Sam and that ends up being the most mind-blowing experience you have had. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He knows enough and guides you through it gently. Rough actions, gentle words.  

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Different moods, different positions. We know the man has different personalities. If he is feeling soft, you straddling and riding him with intense eye contact. If he is feeling more rage-y, from behind. OR with your legs on his shoulder, deep and intense yet extremely personal. He can see you underneath him, your eyes pleading and barely open with all the pleasure you’re in. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Oh no. He is serious. A lot of teasing, but not goofy. It’s more condescending like, “oh you like it? I thought you were above this. I thought you didn’t want this. Your body says otherwise sweetheart. “

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Yeah he is groomed. Clean and trimmed. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Very intimate. Romantic, but not sweet. But he knows you like it like that. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

When he is alone during hunts and misses you, he imagines you. If he is able to, he calls you. If not, he gets himself off in the shower, cascaded in warm water, eyes closed, imagining your body and your pleading and needy voice. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Bondage- The man loves this. You under his control. 

Voyeurism- He gets off from watching you in pleasure. Either self masturbation or toys, whatever it is, he loves the moans and gasps and his name emerging from your lips as you tip off the high. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bed for sure. Kitchen counter. Shower. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Sounds, and your eyes. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hurt you. You guys can be rough which is why you have a safe word. He retreats and becomes his gentle self if he hears so much as a whisper of that word. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves to give. But he loves to receive too. Both are intense. When he is eating you out, nothing can stop him. He is fully into it, determined to draw out the most sinful moans from you. He doesn't stop until you’re a shaking stammering mess underneath him. 

And when he is receiving, he has to hold himself back from slamming too hard. He runs his fingers across your full cheek and stretched lips slowly coaxing you gently to relax. “It’s okay baby, open up. I know you can take it. You look so beautiful, those lips wrapped around me taking me so well.“

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Switching between both. One minute he is slow and sensual and slowly dragging his cock inside you. The next moment, he can’t resist himself from slamming hard as he hears your gasps. Tries not to be rough, but sometimes the restricted rage and force slip through and he can’t control it. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not a fan. He likes it to be detailed and loves to take his time breaking you down to your bare bones until you’re nothing but blissfully fucked out. But he also lets you ride his thighs when you’re needy, even if he is working. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Yeah if you want to. Personally, he likes it traditional, he never gets bored of the basics with you. But if you propose something, he will try it out to please you. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Extreme stamina. Believe me, this man can keep going as long as you need him to. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He loves indulging you. If you like toys, he buys you toys. Secretly he likes to see you overstimulated and he is just watching from across the room, enjoying your pleasure like his. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He teases you but is very kind. Begging from you, one sincere plea and he will let you cum. But you liked to be teased and so he does it. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not really loud. Grunts and low groans are the things you get. Heavy breaths and strings of curses when he is drawing out his and your orgasms so that you can release from the high slowly. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He is not super horny. But when he is, you are done for. You probably would need to rest a couple of hours to recover from it. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Not that quick. He carries you and gets into the shower, slowly washing away the remains and calming you down. Then gives you something to eat before sleeping.

[sailoryooons]

Okay hear me out, but maybe a little bit of enemies to lovers, little bit of smutty goodness between witch hunter!yoongi and witch!reader?? Idk why this popped in my head but I’m kind of desperate to see a little something now lol.

Also, I love you ❤️

❀ Pairing: Witch hunter!Yoongi x f. witch!reader

❀ Summary: For years, you and Yoongi have played cat and mouse. It’s his duty to rid the world of witches, but he always finds a new excuse to let you slip through his fingers. When you find yourself at his mercy, you wonder if the great witch hunter will finally end your game of chase, or if there’s something that will stay his hand. 

❀ Word Count: 4188 

❀ Genre: Urban fantasy, enemies to lovers, a hint of angst, smut

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

❀ Warnings: On screen character death (not permanent though), depictions of blood and intense action sequences, scary demon thing, depiction of weapons, hints at violence between two groups of people, mild world building, a bit of angst, explicit language, explicit sexual content featuring light nipple play, unprotected vaginal sex, emotional sex, a lot of spit, UNEDITED. 

❀ Published: August 3, 2023

❀ A/N: I don’t know why I thought I’d be able to control myself with some of these ideas because god dammit Sarah, I want to turn this into more than ~4k of a work. Like this idea inspired me so much, you have no idea how insane I wanted to go on this but I had to CONTROL MYSELF because I promised that this year I would keep it tame. I love you so much and I’m so sorry that this is like 90% plot and 10% smut but I kept inching toward 5k and I was like I HAVE GOT TO STOP MYSELF JESUS CHRIST and dkfgjdiogjfoigjg I am telling you right now, I want to come back and revisit this fic and makie it like a four chapter thing or something because GOD I LOVED THIS IDEA AND YOU KNEW JUST WHAT TO REQUEST. Also this is unedited!!!!

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

| Masterlist | Ask | Hali’s Happy Agust | Song Inspiration |

Most nights, Yoongi dreams of you. He knows better, and yet he can’t help himself. It’s like you’re living under his skin, a virus that has taken root in the marrow of his bones. He doesn’t know how he would dig you out if he tried.

If he tried. 

If anyone from the Conclave knew the dangerous game that Yoongi is playing, he would be ousted or killed. Killing would be the mercy, but he’s garnered enough hate within the elite members of the Conclave to know they’d rather him suffer cut off from his resources. His friends. His family. 

Still, Yoongi walks a dangerous line. He knows it’s wrong, letting a witch infect him like a sickness. He is sure that he’s under your spell. There’s no other explanation for the way he always lets you slip away. For the way he closes his eyes and imagines the flutter of your heart against his, the sound of your gasps, the warmth of your hands.

Stars explode behind Yoongi’s eyes as he presses the heels of his hands into them. He’s exhausted, limbs heavy and sore from a day of bloody work. The activity downtown has only worsened the last few months, making Yoongi hunt multiple times a day and return home banged up. 

The pain he can handle. Witches and their demons are nothing new to him. But he knows there’s something he’s missing, something lurking beneath the surface of the increased activity and the strong demonic presence in the city.

Yoongi knows he could ask you. He’s thought about it a few times over the last few weeks but he’s talked himself out of it each time. The curiosity has always lingered there, waiting for him to ask in those moments where you cross his path, coy and sharp as ever. In the minutes you linger, shooting him insults he thinks you don’t mean and playing little word games. 

He doesn’t ask, though. And you never offer, despite the fact that your sharp eyes and knowing smirk lead him to believe you know he wants to ask. 

Perhaps that’s why he doesn’t. Not giving you what you want is part of the fun. He likes the way it makes you bristle, magic crackling at your fingertips. He loves the way it makes you narrow your eyes at him, lobbing empty threats that make him want to purr. 

Whatever this effect you have on him is potent. He can’t shake you off, can’t outrun you. 

And worse, he doesn’t want to.

Rain begins to beat on the bedroom window outside. Though his limbs are heavy from slogging through the sewer system downtown after a witch and her ivax demon, he’s a little too keyed up to sleep. Yoongi senses something staticy in the air, an energy that he can’t name.

Opening up his phone, he flips through his text threads with members of the Conclave. It seems everyone is in it tonight, the demonic activity buzzing and the monsters worse than usual. He frowns when he sees Seokjin mention a prowler crawling through the warehouse district. Yoongi knows that’s where you live and an unexpected sense of unease slivers down his spine.

He locks his phone and tosses it on the bed. He doesn’t need to worry about you. You’re one of the most skilled witches in the city and you’ve killed scores of demons and others alike. He should remove your head for the number of hunters you’ve put in the ground, but you’ve killed triple that in witches. 

Which is why you’re alone. It’s not lost on Yoongi that you’re a witch without a coven and with unusual alliances living in a warehouse all alone with a prowler on the loose. If you know it’s there - you have to know it’s there, being you - he knows you’ll go after it. 

“Fuck,” he sighs at the ceiling. 

Grabbing his phone, Yoongi sends off a quick text. 

Yoongi: Anyone dispatching to take care of the prowler?

Councilman Haer: Negative. The Conclave will not be dispatching. The Warehouse District is not critical and it’ll go back down after it’s satiated. Prowlers aren’t controlled by witches, it might even take a few out for us.

Yoongi stomach flips as he squeezes his phone tight before getting up. He’s tired of the Conclave’s inaction. He knows he’ll get in trouble for going after something so dangerous without backup, but he can’t ask Seokjin and Hoseok to back him up on this one. Not unauthorized, and not for something so dangerous. 

Unsanctioned hunts is exactly how Yoongi has ended up at the bottom of the pool among Conclave members, but he doesn’t care. Politics can’t erase the fact that he’s the best fucking hunter in the city, and no councilman who won’t get their hands dirty can give him grief for doing what needs to be done.

This isn’t about the Conclave, though. Yoongi knows it. Seokjin would know it, if Yoongi told him what he was doing. But the thought of a prowler tearing through the low-income streets in the Warehouse District doesn’t resonate with him. Neither does knowing that you are one of the witches in the line of fire. 

Yoongi dresses and arms himself with military proficiency. A black, long-sleeved shirt with a form-fitted leather vest over it to prevent most stabs and cuts, knives sheathed along the ribbing of the vest, breathable pants with a tactical belt and pockets full of hunting necessities, and his necklace with the Conclave helix. 

At the last second, he grabs a jacket and pulls the hood up to keep the beating rain from soaking him through. While he has some talent with magic to help him heal faster and make his blows stronger and faster, he’s not skilled in the way of weather or anything advanced enough to keep him dry and comfortable. 

Nervousness settles into him as he takes the subway to the Warehouse District. It’s not far, but the train is empty and filled with dirty puddles left behind from passengers. Lights flicker above as the subway rockets unevening on the tracks, making him dizzy. 

When he steps off the train and into the wet underground of the station entrance, he knows something is amiss. His fingers twitch as he jogs up the steps, boots splashing loudly as the rain comes down. Wind whips at him here and when he hears a crack of thunder too loud and rumbling to be human, his instincts kick in.

Yoongi takes off running. He knows where your warehouse-turned-loft is. He’d originally scouted it out to eliminate you. Now, it’s something he’s always kept an eye on, steering other hunters away from your home. It’s silly, he knows. You’d call him weak if you knew, probably. And yet he does it, diverting danger coming your way when he can.

Now, danger is already there. 

The storm rages harder as he heads your direction. Wind pushes at him, making Yoongi lock his muscles as he fights the freezing cold rain and the debris that blows down the street with the force of the storm. He hopes that it keeps people indoors and away from the prowler. 

But Yoongi sees the purple lighting lance out of the sky, an explosion of radiant beauty for a moment before it strikes nearby, blowing transforms into white sparks and he realizes what is so uncanny about this storm. 

It’s you. You’re the storm. 

A roar of rage shakes the air as he comes around the corner to your street. The warehouse you live in is at the end of the road right up against the bay. The wind is mixed with salt spray, stinging his eyes as he runs towards the shadowy outline of your building, nearly impossible to see in the rain and night.

Yoongi manages to roll one of the heavy doors open to your loft, muscles screaming with effort. Stepping inside, chaos greets him. The ceiling is blown out above your home, rain pouring in from the sky. It tastes like lightning and blood. No doubt your storm is what ripped the ceiling apart, but when he sees the prowler, he doesn’t blame you. 

A massive creature stands ten feet tall, rippling with leathered hide and spikes on its back. Long, gangly limbs drag on the floor with black, sharpened talons on the end of each of its three fingers. The prowler walks awkwardly and Yoongi notes the scorch mark in its left shoulder, making it lean as it drags itself toward its intended target. 

Which is you, laying on the ground bloody and rain soaked. Yoongi doesn’t even think. He has no idea if you’re conscious or not, but he’s moving across the room, putting power into his step as he pulls out two of his daggers and jumps high up into the air. 

Yoongi’s intent is to land on the back of the prowler and sink each blade in as he falls. He doesn’t anticipate the demon to turn away from bloodied prey, but it does, swinging its arm wildly to bat him away. He’s lucky that the forearm catches him in the stomach and sends him flying and not the flaws.

Closing his eyes and bracing for impact, Yoongi is surprised when he doesn’t slam into a wall. He opens his eyes to see himself floating toward the floor, suspended briefly before the phantom energy drops him gently. He lands with shock, looking up to where you’re sitting up, one hand extended toward him.

At least you weren’t out cold or dead. Yoongi is really happy that you’re not dead, but it’s cut short as the prowler charges him. 

This time, Yoongi’s ready. He runs at the beast, waiting until he’s right outside of the window of its swiping claws before he dives to his knees, sliding under the creature and between its legs. He twists his hands, cutting the inside of the creature’s thighs as he goes.

It shrieks, shaking the building and scattering Yoongi’s thoughts. He feels fizzy and confused for a moment, the mind breaking scream of the prowler enough to make him vulnerable. He feels a hand on his face and he looks up, momentarily stricken with the thought that he sees an angel. 

“Thank you,” you breathe, and he recognizes your voice. Usually it cracks like a whip, but this is soft. Strange. It terrifies him. “I’m going to do something that is probably going to kill me. Just know that I liked our game, Hunter.”

“What are you doing, Witch?”

Your smile is like the sun. He doesn’t think he’s seen anything more beautiful. Your face is covered in blood and rain, turning your neck scarlet as it runs. There’s a gash above your brow and he sees a blackened wound in your stomach. 

It is amazing, how a creature like you, bred to be an evil, wicked thing can look radiant. Holy. Wonderful. Your hand is cradling his face and it feels warm, despite the rain and blood on your hands. Your thumb is soft as it sweeps across his cheek, a touch more reverent than he’s ever known. 

“Witch,” Yoongi starts, unsure what you’re doing. 

“I’ll miss that. Take this.” 

Before Yoongi can react, your hand falls from his face. You move past him with absolute confidence, lifting your chin. You have a limp as you do, and Yoongi reaches after you but you’re already out of his grip.

Something stirs in the air. He’s only felt power rippling like that once before when he was a child, and the entire Conclave worked together to slaughter an Eldritch Witch that had attacked them and taken out more than half of their hunters.

Now, Yoongi feels that dark presence again, energy buzzing against his ears as he turns to look at you over his shoulder. The prowler senses the power disturbance too, backing away from you as dark particles begin to gather around your hands.

Above you, the rain hovers, disrupted by the frequency of your magic. The buzz in Yoongi’s ears gets louder as he climbs to his feet, clapping his hands firmly over his ears, wincing as it gets higher and louder. He thinks it might burst his ear drums or crack his skull open. 

Disks of dark particles circle you as you approach the demon, which is now roaring once more, trying to disrupt your thoughts. It doesn’t work, the air vibrating with dark matter. You’re at the center of the swirling darkness, the rings rotating around you like an access.

The sound stops suddenly, and for a moment, Yoongi thinks he’s deaf. Black matter pulses from you, exploding outward. Yoongi hits the floor, realizing if he gets hit with your magic, he’ll die. Never before has he witnessed the Eldritch Blast of a witch, but he knows that it's only used as a final stand.

I’m going to do something that is probably going to kill me. 

The finality of your words shreds him open as the shockwave of your magic barrels at him. He thinks he’s going to die as it expands toward him, but instead, it arches over him, battling down against a magical barrier. 

Take this. Yoongi realizes you’ve warded him from your destruction, keeping him safe as your blast levels the world around you. He feels the magic beating down on your ward like raging fits, vibrating and shrieking under the pressure of the magic. 

It even keeps him from being injured by the collapsing debris. 

Yoongi looks at you as the world falls to pieces. You go down to one knee, then the other, swaying as the darkness cascades around you in a final flutter of power. Then you fall over, heavy and unmoving as the rest of the building comes down. 

All he can do is scream.

-

Most nights, you dream of Yoongi. You don’t know when it started - perhaps that first night after you met him? You can’t be sure. All you know is that at some point, the hunter poisoned you from the inside out, a disease taking root and rotting you all the way through to your core. 

You always knew that dreaming of him would get you killed one day. But Yoongi was different. Wiser than the rest of his wretched Conclave. Smart enough to question his way of life and his faction’s merciless killings. You think he’ll start asking the right questions soon, that maybe he’ll start seeing the signs that who he has sworn loyalty to isn’t who they say they are.

But Yoongi never asks questions. 

It’s easy to tell he wants to. There’s always that little pause at the end of your meetings. You used to think it was perhaps he was trying to decide whether or not to kill you. Perhaps it was that at first, but now it’s something a little different. A little more. Like he is on the edge of finally asking you what exactly is going on in the city that he protects from monsters.

Yoongi is simple, though. He likes his little life tucked away in the Art District and he likes the wash, rinse, repeat of killing demons and corrupted witches nightly. You think he likes your little run-ins.

Now, you’ve finally paid the price of letting him live these last two years. Had someone told you before you’d met Yoongi that you’d sacrifice yourself for him and the rest of a small neighborhood, you’d have laughed in their face. You weren’t a hero, though some might think slaying your own kind and their creatures was worth praise. 

Penance and praise are not the same, though. 

Dying seems like a good way of paying off your list of wrongs. Especially to save Yoongi. If only to save Yoongi, if you were being honest. 

Witches have a lot of lore about death and where one goes in the afterlife. You’re not sure where you are, if you exist, or if you’re even really a thought. It feels like nothingness and everything all at once, a void of floating consciousness. There’s no pain, but you remember the warehouse. Remember the prowler ripping down the door and coming for you specifically. 

And him. You remember Yoongi coming in, looking like a fucking angel of old as he leapt through the skies. Together you might have taken on the beast. But prowlers are notoriously difficult to destroy, and you were in no shape to protect Yoongi, much less fight by his side as a reliable partner. 

That left you with one option, and though you knew it would end you, you’d done it anyway.

Yoongi’s face swims in your mind. Soft and round, eyes like the bottom of the ocean, a single pink scar carved through his right eye. Mouth soft and petal pink, hair silky and dark, reaching to his shoulders. He’s small for a hunter but he’s strong and broad, his mind his best weapon. 

Witch, Yoongi had said. The last words you’d hear from him, spoken with a softness that you’ve never heard from him before. Rain-soaked and wide eyed Yoongi, looking at you like you held the flame of life, like you were something more than a creature on the other side of the trench. 

The best thing you could do for him was die.

So you summoned your magic from deep within you, that ancient, sleeping thing. You try not to think about what Yoongi’s last memory of you will be, an eldritch horror that will remind him of the creature that slaughtered his family as a child. 

Yoongi will never get to ask his questions. You’ll never get to tell him why you haunt the streets killing your own kind. Yoongi will never know the softness of your kiss. You’ll never know the gentle press of his hands. 

Something brushes across your forehead. You feel now and you frown. Or can you frown, in whatever plane of death this is? You’re not sure, but you feel… the weight of your own body. The beating of your own heart. The rush of air through your lungs as you breathe.

Awareness prickles at the back of your neck like a needle. Slowly, you begin to feel solid. Your fingers twist in soft sheets, and when you turn your head, you feel the plushness of a pillow. Smell petrichor and cedar. 

It smells like… Yoongi. 

“Hmmm?” you feel the vibration in your throat at your unspoken question, nothing but a rumble of noise and confusion. Something cradles your face. “Hunnn..?”

A deep, throaty laugh. “Mmm, I take care of you for a week straight and we’ve moved on to endearments?” 

Your eyes flutter open, lids heavy. The world swims into view, a little blurry as your eyes try to focus in the dimly lit room, taking in the bed you’re in and the face hovering above yours. 

“Yoongi,” you breathe, your heart expanding with unfettered joy. 

“That’s the first time you’ve ever said my name.”

“What?”

“Say it more often.” He leans forward and you watch as his dark eyes drink you in. “And never do that to me again.”

Before you can ask him what that is, Yoongi’s mouth is pressing against yours. You melt immediately, going boneless in a bed you’re unfamiliar with, lost in the citrusy taste of his mouth and the gentle press of his lips. His kiss is soft soft soft, blurring reality as he pulls at your bottom lip teasingly before pulling away.

Eyes fluttering open, you stare at him in wonder. He hovers above your face, haloed by inky-black hair. “Yoongi.”

He smiles. “It sounds much better than hunter. Hun can stay, though.”

“You’re not calling the shots.”

“You’re in no condition to fight me.”

“I killed a prowler, I think you’re no problem.”

His eyes glow. “I think perhaps you’re right. But for now, you’re at my mercy.”

“Kiss me again.” You lift your hands and bring them toward his face, brushing a finger over the bottom of his scar. “And don’t stop this time. I’ll ask my questions later.”

“Of course, witch.” 

Yoongi’s kiss is hungrier now. Desperate. Full of all the questions he never asked and you meet him with equal fire. You don’t care that you’ve beat the odds and lived. You don’t care about anything else but the weight of Yoongi straddling your waist and the feel of his velvet soft skin beneath your hands. 

Every inch of him is warm, filled with the heat of the hunter’s fire that burns through every member of the Conclave. This hunter burns brighter than the rest, though. Warmth blooms where your fingers press over his stomach and chest, ridding him of his shirt. Fire burns where you grab his arms, arching into him as his teeth skim your throat. 

You’ve never felt this in sync with someone, bodies twining together like you were made for one another. Yoongi’s hand is scorching as his touch ghosts down your body, his touch light and teasing as he lowers his mouth to your hardened nipple, catching it and giving a gentle suck.

Honey-dipped moans slip from your mouth. Yoongi’s mouth is wet-hot against your skin, tongue laving hungrily as his hand seeks the heat between your legs. Your thighs open for him easily, giving Yoongi access to the dripping mess of your folds. He curses when his fingers slide between your slit, gathering slick to circle his digits around your clit.

“Fuck,” you hiss, hips twitching. “Don’t bother. I can take you now. Want you now.”

“I told you that you were at my mercy.” You summon your magic, rattling his shelves. Yoongi leans over to your neglected nipple and plucks it with his teeth, making you squeal and shiver, pleasure rattling you. “Fine,” he agrees. “Greedy witch. Should have known.”

“Not greedy,” you shoot back as Yoongi sits up and sheds his pants. Your hands follow him, tracing the faint scars on his stomach, pressing against the muscle of his tapered hips. “I’ve waited for months for you to do something. To say something.”

“I’m not good at that.” 

You hum. “It takes me dying for you to take initiative?” 

“A lesson hard-learned and never to be repeated.”

Yoongi’s cock is hard, bobbing heavily as he shuffles you under him and presses your thighs open for him. The brown tip is sticky with precum, his shaft long and thick enough to make your cunt ache for him more.

“Nice cock,” you tease as he pumps himself, hand gliding and spreading his precum down his shaft.

He grunts. “Can’t wait to feel this fucking pussy,” he mutters, leaning forward and pressing the tip to your entrance. You make a breathy sound, eyes fluttering shut at the pleasure-pained stretch. “Think you can take it, witch?”

“Yes.”

Yoongi sinks in and you second-guess your statement for a second, but the stretch of his cock pressing you open feels good. Deliriously so, your back arching as he bottoms out. You feel him in your gut, deeper than anything ever before and you whine as he draws his hips back before snapping them forward, punching the breath from your lungs.

He sets a deep, hard pace. You grip his biceps, feeling the muscle flex in his arms. Every part of you is on fire, lit up from the closeness of your bodies as Yoongi leans down and melds your mouths together, continuing to fuck you so deep you know you’ll never forget what it feels like.

Every brush of his cock against your g-spot drives you mad. Every whisper of your name - your name, not witch - makes you shudder. His tongue is hungrily as it brushes against yours, his moans deep and throaty as your pussy grips him tight. 

“Fuck,” he pants, sliding a hand down your body to grab your thigh and hoist your leg higher. It changes the angle, making his stroke somehow deeper. Your eyes roll back and your head digs into the mattress as you fist at the sheets. “You can fucking take it.”

“Keep going.”

“As if i could fucking stop.” 

You never want him to stop. Fucking you, kisses you, teasing you, shadowing you as you take on the world. You want every part of your life colored with Yoongi. You want him to be a part of your mornings, your fights, your weaknesses, your strengths. You want to rile him up, needle him with little insults that get him going. Tease him to make him laugh and share that secret smile. 

Every moment has led to this. You don’t know how you never saw this outcome, here with him, crying out his name as your orgasm crests into an unstoppable force. When you come around him, it’s with his name in your mouth and so much need for him in your heart that you think you might explode with energy for a second time. 

After, when you’re wrapped in Yoongi and you feel his hunter’s skin blaze against you, sweat-slick skin pressed close, you think that finally, he’ll ask those questions. You’ll give him answers. 

“Don’t do that ever again, witch,” Yoongi warns. “I will follow you into death.” 

[simplydnp]

idk why this matters to me but in the last few months they've been acknowledging so many things I never ever thought they would. pinof and the touching. the phude multiple times. dapc slime (ok they had merch to sell for that one but still)

no but actually. phil literally said 'i thought we weren't acknowledging it' about the phude and now they just bring it up all the time.

pinof reacts... i still can't believe we're in a post pinof-reacts universe. how did that happen. i was changed permanently--like something shuffled in my dna when i got the notif for pinof reacts 1. this is not a physical reaction but a chemical one that cannot be undone. for something that was so... sacred. and integral. to their existence and history. pinof wasn't generally talked about unless it was pinof time. and even then it was 'it'll be up soon' or 'we just posted it' and then Never talked about outside of that. especially not the first one! we freak out about the We Know You Know in the newsletter but it's Always been like that with pinof 1. so to see them--new (& natural 🥺) hair for them both, in a house they bought and built together, in the first few months of giving the gaming channel a second chance--reflect on how it all began? absolutely devastating. and to lean into moments and discuss them in new ways. in territory previously not breached! the 'they're toUching'?!?!? the '11 hour fuck session'!?!? the '£9000 champagne'?!?!? like hey we're not supposed to talk about that, dan and phil might see!! shhh!! but they're the ones saying it!! absolutely wild.

in a way, it had to happen. especially with where we're at now (them literally selling merch of them holding hands). in order for them to move beyond that... mindset? i guess? that a lot of fans had, they had to defang it. i really see it as one of the biggest walls they've broken down in the way they communicate with us. the 'hey. it's okay. we've seen it. it's not a big deal. we will absolutely make fun of you for it though. but we're good.'

i'm just really curious whose idea it was. (lbr it was probably phil given dans not a react kinda guy. but i'd be lying if i said i didn't want to be in the room where it happened when they talked about actually doing it or not, and what it would mean) (big ad revenue thats for sure 🤣 get it kings)

i will never be able to get phil's 'they touched' out of my head and at this point i wouldn't want to. it's absolutely earned. and i guess it makes me a masochist to enjoy the psychic damage it inflicts on me, but such is life i suppose.

the crafts mention really surprised me! i had contemplated a few different scenarios in how they'd go about it, and i'll be honest i feel like they could've committed to the bit a little more but they're forgiven. like what about glitchy interstitials! cuts to the merch website. found footage inserted between sections! i recognize they don't want to 'scare' their usual audience wirh sudden cuts to intense/graphic content but my immersionnn. absolutely shattered by 'oh we have new merch now btw'. cmon boys you love to lie to us. say theres merch up but you dont know where it came from. just that we should buy it 👀 or idk, something clever. and i recognize i may sound like a spoilt brat bc i just got a 14 minute long masterpiece of an unexpected dapc revival, but my immersion. i mean i already bought the merch before they shilled it anyways so it didn't influence me regardless 🤣

ultimately we really are in a new era. even beyond just the revival. i think they're really finding their stride--not only in their content (evidenced by a semi-regular schedule) but also creatively, in doing what they want to do, how they want to do it, and truly not giving that much of a fuck anymore. and i'm really happy for them. phil talked a bit about this in his 'rating my icons' video, where he's kind of decided he doesn't care what people on twitter think, and how it's been good for him, and i think we're seeing that reflected in not only his content, but also the gaming channel. they play what they want. they say what they want. and it's just fun. dan going on the record to say he's really enjoying it makes me so happy to hear, because literally december 2022 he believed he'd disappear after WAD. and now, instead, he gets to play games and make stupid jokes and smile and laugh multiple times a week, and he's really happy about it. he gets to be silly and goofy and crude without having to Stress about it. i keep saying it but they're so settled now. and as someone who's followed them through big changes and turbulent times, getting to see them happy after everything... it brings a lot of hope. and i know theyre millionaires. but there's something to looking at someone you fell in love with 15 years ago the same then as you do now. but instead of it being something scary, something you have to hide, something that feels like it can consume you and everything you have--it gets to be something beautiful. and regular. and embraced. you've read this far you get to listen to me wax poetic about them.

we've been thoroughly boiled and maybe, just maybe, it's warming our hearts too.

[cherie-doll]

Can you please pretty please do lots of Horangix reader?? Headcanons, nsfw, whatever, I don't care I need some more Horangi omg

Love your headcanons by the way

aw tysm!! it encourages me to keep writing him bc im not sure if ppl read fics abt him as much as i like to <33 and ofc, here's a sfw alphabet for now, i'll keep writing him in my other hcs too

𓆩♡𓆪 Horangi SFW Alphabet

𖧧 template here

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

That man is loud about it, showy with it, flaunting you and loves intensely.

He doesn't necessarily tell you he's head over heels for you, but he loves showing you how much he loves touching you, caressing you, and wants to be draped all over you. Seriously, his hands never leave you.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He's the friend you know you're going to have the best time of your life with. Even if his idea of fun can be a little reckless and dangerous you know you can trust that nothing bad will ever happen.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He can't just lie there, he has to be touching you constantly. Smooth gliding his hands over you, following your body like a map. OOOH, I hc he has tattoos and adores it when you trace them, all over his thick, muscly arms and back. All in mutual, enjoyable silence.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Yeah he does, I can't imagine him cooking much other than simple meals. Like you know, when he's hungry and you're busy so you can't cook for him. He can make the simplest things taste the best tho, like for some reason his eggs are so appetizing.

Y'all imagine him in an apron with nothing underneath but boxers and tell me you wouldn't breed that man.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

It would have to be on your own accord because it would take a LOT for him to get over you, he would never be able to forget you. He'd take the last chance he'd have memorizing you, the way you feel under his palm, the way you taste on his lips, the feelings you've ignited, the memories you've gifted him, and so on. Would truly try to make you stay and not leave, placing heated and passionate kisses just like the first time he'd been graced by your lips. Just know you'll receive constant phone calls and messages from him.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He's with you most of the time, and if being married means you'll live together with no restrictions then he's all in. Pulling out the ring soon.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He loves aggressively but can be gentle when he pleases in small gestures on the day to day basis.

His emotions don't differ much from the regular, and on the rare chance that he's not teasing you he won't say a thing. Just sitting next to you and lifting you up to sit on his lap. More because he needs it, holding you when he's softer.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Sneaks up behind you and tickles your sides before hugging you. Sometimes he'll "pounce" on you and hold you tight in his arms, it makes you all giggly and squirming which makes him grin. Likes feeling as if he has you trapped within his arms, that nothing can take you away from him and you're secure with him.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Maybe in a moment when he's lost in ecstasy, in an ardent moment. A feeling that just so happens to be aligned with someone he can be sincere towards, not something everyone has and doesn't happen twice in a lifetime. In short he says it while you're having sex. And he'll keep whispering it against your ear, murmuring it against your skin, breathing it against your lips.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Idk you tell me from this scenario:

He watches from a few paces back as someone talks to you, except he doesn't like their body language towards you. He comes closer to stand behind you, eyeing the other person suspiciously, and just rolling his eyes and sighing exasperatedly. Visibly in a bad mood which usually scares off the other person.

Yeah, he can be quite possessive (not in a toxic way). Let me explain, he likes calling you his but not in an object is mine kind of way, instead you're his for only him to give you that special love of care no one else could give, his to tend to.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

When he has you enveloped in a hug from behind, he'll start placing small kisses on your nape until his lips are barely parting from your skin and he's moved down to your shoulders, keeping his mouth so close as he murmurs into your skin.

Once he captures your mouth in a kiss, it'll be a while before you can catch your breath as your chest heaves. Longing to feel your lips on his as he desperately kisses you that he almost merges with you. Holding you closely, encasing your body against a couch, wall or whatever as he leans over you, breath caressing your lips for a mere moment as his eyes connect with yours. He's observing you with passion burning in his eyes, both of you watching one another trying not to be the first to give in.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He likes children enough to ruffle his friend's kid hair playfully, maybe calm a crying baby at a grocery store, spoiling a niece/nephew or cousin he's babysitting.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Won't let you out of bed until he's kissed you, held you, felt you. So rushed mornings are a no for him, he greatly dislikes them. The type to set the alarm earlier than when he has to get up just to enjoy having you next to him. Knows when you wake up from subtle body signs, a change in your breathing rhythm, feeling as you burrow closer into him, your hands wrapping around his torso seeking that comfort as he relishes in it.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Night is the only time he can unwind and catch up on some much needed rest. Sometimes you joke and call him and old man for his remedies but you end up helping him relieve his back or knee pain, loosen his knotted muscles, or massage him after he's gone hard on a work out.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Maybe when he knows the probability of marriage is around the corner. He starts getting pretty serious because he'll want you to know his faults before your relationship deepens. Things are revealed as you go, he wouldn't drop a bomb on you either.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

It's pretty hard for you to actually anger him, most of the time when you're nagging at him he'll just piss you off more by having a smug grin or smirk on his face. Most you'll do is annoy him at which he feels the need to annoy you more when getting back at you. He avoids giving you looks but will always have a bothersome look in his eyes, sighing loud enough to irritate you and giving you smart comebacks to any question you direct at him.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

I'm sorry but I feel like he tends to be forgetful about some things. Like on the first date he makes such a conscious effort to remember which flowers you like best, what food you prefer and such that on the way back home he's repeating these things over and over again so he won't forget.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

This one date that went kinda wrong because the car broke down on a backroad with barely any cars or people to come by. It was late at night too, but you both sat on the hood of the car, gazing at the starry night sky and just talking. The ambience felt so different, there was no logic in the words you exchanged as you talked the night away yet you were on the same wavelength. It was hours before someone passed by and were able to provide transportation but neither of you had taken notice of the time that had passed.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He don't keep up with his workouts for nothing.

Although you have surprised him before by defending yourself, which he commended you for.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

The effort he may not always put into everyday tasks goes into anniversary and dates. Ofc, he tries to but it is forgettable when it's day to day stuff.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He's left behind his gambling habits and tries to keep away from it. Yet, he still resorts to bad coping mechanisms, usually tied to his impulsiveness.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

The average ig. He's neglected his skin before but thanks to the rise in skincare for guys he's got a simple routine that you help him keep up with.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Literally and figuratively. Physically and emotionally.

Cannot run an errand without you, not that he would ever admit it though. Your presence is the only remedy he needs.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He's into motorcycles. As a teen, instead of his first vehicle being a car it was a motorcycle. He used to spend a lot of time with groups of motorcyclists when he wanted to occupy his mind. After settling down, he remembered his first motorcycle he had to part with when he joined the military and decided to purchase one of the same model to keep beside the newer one in the garage.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Trying to hold him back or tell him to 'slow down' on things he wants to have fun on. Like he needs his adrenaline rush and although his decisions may seem careless he's made sure the consequences aren't too dire. He doesn't see himself getting along with a boring person or a buzzkill.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Will not go to sleep if you're not in bed with him. Don't try to stay up late and tell him to not stay up waiting for you, that's unacceptable to him. He could try but he feels as if he needs something to hold, feels as if his chest is concave from where your head should be resting on right now. He can only get up and cling to you like a toddler except he's bigger than you and now you can't do anything.

[skylark325]

Omniscient Readers Viewpoint Read Through

Chapter 1-10

>I adore this line

>being able to read kdj's thoughts in the first person makes the story so much more intense. like understanding his subconscionce helps me gain a better grasp on just how apethetic and yet selectively caring he can be. like reading the webtoon it felt like it went from 0 to 100 pretty fast and kdj acclimated so well because he knew the story before hand. but reading the story and having greater insight on his personality from the start shows how different he was and how it contributed to his eventual scheming through the scenarios. (i really hope i’m making sense cuz words aren’t wording today)

>the way i freak out when this happens to me on AO3, Dokja stronger than me fr

>GILYOUNG WAS WITH HIS MOM? did they mention that in the webtoon? i had no idea omg so does that mean he saw his mom go poof? and kdj gave him the insect but not to his mom so he likely lived knowing he could’ve given the insect to his mom? oh my god this is fucking with my head

>kdj sure was a different breed from the start 💀

>famous last words

> ….ok (sorry my humour is juvenile T-T)

>kdj said ☝️🤓

>OH MY GOD so Gilyoung’s mother abandoned him to join in the beat down of the grandma???? and the poor bby saw all that? damn

>i just realised, the first four constellations to take interest in kdj have played such important roles as the story progresses. like idk if this is obvious to ppl but Abysmal black flame dragon being hsy’s constellation, demon like judge of fire being our yaoi queen, prisoner of golden headband’s role when kdj became a constellation feels strangely nostalgic now. like they stayed by his side this whole time. yet to see what secretive plotter will do tho, according to the webtoon they’re definitely suspicious.

>oh they changed bastard to punk in the webtoon loll. can i expect more cursing cuz i need kdj to curse more XD

>*sigh* high schoolers

>UNPROVOKED?

>damn bihyung shut up 😭

>he’s hereeee 💃

>a ‘rugged hand’? not kdj simping over yjh’s HAND? kdj freak confirmed

—

That was fun! Pretty similar to the webtoon but there were so many little nuances I hadn’t seen before and it was an interesting new perspective on the characters. Can’t wait to read ahead!

Next: Ch 11-20

[garfield-mug]

Could I maybe request some cozy comfort with Jake? A rainy day spent inside with him or something like that, whatever you’re up to, thanks in advance!

A/N: i passed my chem exam so here's a treat! idk how i feel about it, but i don't hate it. would've gotten to this sooner but had halloween plans this weekend, which were very fun. hope you like it! also, i'm getting back into using desk top and it's.... different lmao. also not proof read too hard, so please excuse any spelling or grammatical errors. also, requests are still open!

synopsis: in which you want to remember all that you can during your time with jake.

word count: 1.1k

warnings: none, just hurt/comfort and fluff, no use of Y/N

It didn't rain often in San Diego, but when it did, it poured. As was the case today, plans for spending the day at the beach long forgotten. Jake was home, which seemed to be a rare occurrence with his long shifts on base mixed with the occasional deployment. A day off for Jake was not to be taken lightly, or for granted, and you didn't intend to. So here you both sat, in your home, sharing a blanket as you watched a movie. You'd tucked yourself into his side, legs over his lap, as he rubbed gentle circles over your back. You'd felt your eyes growing heavier and heavier with each pass of his hand. You take a deep breath and nuzzle your face into his chest.

"You keep doing that and I'm gonna fall asleep."

Jake stops his ministrations, smiling softly. "Close your eyes if you're tired, honey. Not much else to do today."

You love Jake, you really do. You love most everything about him. You especially love spending time with him because time seems to be the thing you can never find enough of. You know him well enough to know that he feels the same way. You're comfortable with him in a way you aren't with anyone else, which is why you don't really know why the feeling of shy embarrassment starts to creep up your throat and crawl through your insides. It's why you can't bring yourself to look at him when you say, "Wanna spend time with you. Can't do that if I'm sleeping, lovey."

Jake exhales, pushing a small laugh through his nose and places a kiss to the crown of your head. "Baby, we have all day to spend together. You can sleep for a few hours. I'll still be here when you wake up."

You sit up straighter so you can see his face, still finding it difficult to look him in the eye. Jake's expression changes to something more serious as he takes in your change in mood. He brings a hand up to your cheek and you lean into his touch. "Honey, what's wrong?"

It takes a second for you to gather your thoughts so you can actually for coherent sentences. Even when talking with Jake, undoubtedly the love of your life, being vulnerable was difficult. You knew he would listen, and god was he a good listener. You knew he wouldn't ever make fun of you or throw it back in your face. Still, that persistent little speck of doubt took root in the back of your mind, always imagining the worst-case scenario. You take a deep breath.

"I just... I want to remember the time I spend with you because I feel like we never get enough. And I don't want you to think that I think I'm not a priority for you or that you don't try to make time for me because I don't. I don't think that. I know you try so, so hard. It's just that we both have different schedules and sometimes you're shipped off for months at a time and I know you can't control that. It's not your fault, but it just really fucking sucks when you're not here, so I want to get as much of you as I can."

Your cheeks are warm, your neck is warm. You can kind of hear the blood rushing past your eardrums and you know you're sweating. Your hands would be shaking if you hadn't pressed them together. You kind of wished you could run and hide, but you knew that wouldn't make anything better. Jake is looking at you, bright green eyes boring into yours. His gaze is intense, it always is, but especially in these instances where you have his full, unwavering attention. Jake feels his heart squeeze in his chest, almost in disbelief at what he just heard.

He knows being vulnerable is difficult for you. It's difficult for him, too. He walked around with walls up, constantly on guard and keeping those he knew (except for a few) at arm's length. Until he met you. You, who came crashing into his life with your shining eyes and radiant smile. You, who managed to tear down his walls piece by piece, brick by brick, until there was nothing left standing between you and his heart.

Jake sighs, "Baby, look at me." He brings a hand under your chin to get you to look up at him. "I love you. I love you so much that it hurts. I love spending time with you, too. It doesn't matter what we do or where we go, just that I'm with you. If you're sleeping, so what? It just means I get to hold you. I get to make sure you're comfortable and warm and safe. I get to rub your back and kiss your head and I get to see your face."

Jake has both hands on your cheeks, now, rubbing his thumbs gently over the soft skin under your eyes.

"You look so peaceful when you sleep." It comes out as an almost-whisper. "You may not remember, but I do. I see your face and I know I'm home, I'm safe. I may not be here as much as either of us want, and we may have schedules that don't always line up, but, Baby... any time I get to spend with you is time I wouldn't want to spend any other way. Snoozing on a rainy day or not. I got you in my arms and that's all I need, Babydoll."

Jake's cheeks are warm, his neck is warm. He can kind of hear the blood rushing past his eardrums and he knows he's sweating. His hands would definitely be shaking if he wasn't holding your face right now. He kind of wanted to run and hide, but he knew that wouldn't make anything better. You are looking at him, big bright eyes boring into his. You feel your heart clench in your chest at his words. No one has ever made you feel so loved. You're misty-eyed, smiling up at him like he's just hung the moon and stars. You bring your hands up to cup his cheeks, pulling him in. Softly, you press your lips to his. The kiss is soft and sweet.

"I love you, Jake Seresin." You rest your forehead against his. He pulls you in for another kiss, this time deeper than before, leaving you both a bit breathless. He settles back into the sofa and you follow his lead, lying on his chest. He begins to rub gentle circles over your back.

"Go to sleep, darlin'. I'll be here when you wake up." Jake places a kiss to the crown of your head as you doze off for a cozy afternoon nap.

[chronoghoul]

I loved ur velvette x muscular gf scenario SM ty for the food cus it fed me well 🤭 I have another one shot request cus you write so well I just had to (*≧∀≦*)

Idk if what I’m asking for is too complicated or not but what about velvette w a female reader who’s also an overlord (who’s more powerful than velvette), the two of them basically have a rivals relationship and claim they hate each other but they’re obviously in love

(Bonus points if you can make reader sassy/dominant/confident and velvette being into that) like I’m imagining dom mommy like reader in a business suit and velvette as the loud, bratty type (readers doll)

Ty for listening to me rant about my brain rot ≧﹏≦

- ✨🌷

╭﹒⊹⋆﹒ @ 𝖈𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖌𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑 2024.

୨ ,, vel x dominant/sassy fem!reader, powerful!overlord!reader .ᐟ

𖦹 ｡° note : I'm always happy to see people requests again! I'm glad you loved my writing, honestly I wrote this faster because I'm extremely motivated after finding out there's no school on Monday so 😛, sorry if it seems sloppy or rushed I didn't really proof read any of this 😭 lmk if I made mistakes 𖥔 ݁ ˖.°. ⭑

﹒｡ꔫ﹒wc : ~740+

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭

The clack of your heels echoes down the marble corridor, each step resonating with purpose. Demons part around you like water, bowing or averting their eyes, anything to avoid drawing your ire. The seat of power was yours, and you'd ensured everyone knew it.

Everyone, that is, except her.

Velvette sits at the far end of the room, lounging with a casual defiance in a sprawl that somehow manages to convey boredom, confidence, and provocation all at once. The moment her eyes lock onto yours, her lips pull into a smirk—cocky and lazy, like she’s sizing you up for her next meal.

"Well, well," she drawls, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. "Look who finally decided to join us. The Big Boss herself." Her tone is dripping with faux respect, each word deliberately crafted to rile you.

You narrow your eyes, lifting an eyebrow. “Charming as ever, Velvette. I see you’re still living in that delusion of relevance.”

Her grin widens, and you know you’ve hit exactly where you aimed. But it only makes her eyes gleam with mischief, a dare, a challenge. “Relevant enough to get under your skin, darling.”

The word rolls off her tongue like honey, sticky-sweet and thick with mocking affection. You exhale, smoothing down your tailored suit—a crisp, dark cut that fits you like a glove. It's all part of the role, the image you’ve meticulously crafted: cold, untouchable, powerful.

Velvette’s eyes linger on the lapels of your blazer, her gaze tracing every inch of the material down to where it hugs your waist. Her stare feels like a caress and a taunt at the same time, challenging you without words.

“Like what you see?” you murmur, tilting your head, voice low and condescending. You give her a pointed once-over, letting your gaze sweep slowly, a silent reminder of the hierarchy here. “Or just wishing you could handle it?”

A scoff. “Please,” she sneers, rolling her eyes in that dramatic way of hers, but there’s a blush creeping up her neck. “You know I’m just wondering how much of that bravado would last if I ever got my hands on you.”

“Oh?” You fold your arms, letting one eyebrow lift in mock curiosity. “And how, exactly, would you plan on handling me, Velvette?”

She leans back further, arms crossing over her chest as her gaze never wavers from yours. “Depends,” she purrs, voice dropping an octave. “Do I get to see what’s under that perfectly polished armor, or are you all bark and no bite?”

The tension between you is electric, sparking with the intensity of every unspoken dare. You both hold each other’s gaze, neither willing to blink first. This is the game you play, day after day—a clash of wills, power, and something much deeper neither of you wants to admit.

Stepping closer, you let your presence fill the room. Velvette’s smirk falters just for a heartbeat, and it’s enough to satisfy you. Reaching out, you tug lightly on the front of her outfit, pulling her just close enough that she can feel the breath ghosting off your lips. She stiffens, her eyes widening briefly before she schools her expression.

“Admit it, Velvette,” you whisper, voice a deadly calm. “This little act of yours? It’s all for show. You’d break if I even touched you.”

Her laugh is a low, throaty chuckle, but there's a sharp edge to it now. She’s on the defensive. “I’d love to see you try.”

You lean in, lips barely grazing her ear. “Careful what you wish for,” you murmur, voice thick with menace and promise alike. “You’re not ready for what I could give you.”

There’s a moment of stillness where all you hear is her breath catching, her heartbeat quickening. And then, as though reclaiming the upper hand, Velvette pulls back just enough to look you in the eye. She smirks, but it’s less certain now, her bravado cracking ever so slightly.

“Maybe I’m the only one who could actually handle you, darling,” she breathes, voice tinged with something vulnerable, something genuine.

You feel a pang of something unfamiliar. But you don’t let it show. Instead, you release her and straighten, giving her one last smug glance.

“We’ll see,” you say, turning on your heel. "Maybe next time you’ll find the courage to do more than just talk."

As you walk away, you feel her eyes on you, burning into your back. And somehow, you know this isn’t the end. Far from it.

[cozage]

The Daughter's Return: Part 11

Uninterrupted

Part 1 | Part 12 | Table of Contents | Read this on A03

A/N: Hey folks, just a Coza note: this is quite literally just my attempt at smut. There is no important content in this, so if you don’t like the way I write smut or just don’t want to read it, that’s okay! You can imagine a *fade to black* scenario and skip to the next chapter when it comes out! If you are choosing to read this, I should warn you that smut is NOT my strong suit, but I hope you enjoy it to some degree anyway. 

Word Count: 2.4k Characters: female reader x Portgas D. Ace CW: NSFW (minors please boot scoot & boogy outta here), it’s sex idk, princess pet name and some praising going on, dumbification if you squint really hard, unprotected sex, yeah let me know if I missed anything I guess i dont know what should be noted in this part

---

You let out a soft moan as Ace’s lips pulled away from the nape of your neck. He has been slowly working his way down your neck, and as his lips brushed across the collar of your shirt, you realized you needed it off of your body immediately. 

Your fingers left his hair and gripped the bottom of your shirt, but Ace stopped you from pulling it off. You shot him an irritated look, but he only smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, watching your eyes for any moment of hesitation. 

“I’m sure,” you breathed out. You went to pull your shirt off, but Ace stopped you again. 

“We can stop any time you want,” Ace said, still watching you closely. 

You raised an eyebrow. “And what if I don’t want to stop? We go all night long?”

Ace’s eyes widened, but you could feel his cock twitch under you in response to your words, and you took his stunned silence to finally pull your shirt off and toss it to the side. 

He was trying hard not to stare at your breasts. He was trying hard to be a gentleman. But you weren’t interested in gentlemen's actions at the moment. Pulling him back in for another deep kiss, you pressed your chest against his, flesh against flesh. 

Something in Ace seemed to ignite, and his passion intensified. His kisses were more intense, becoming more vocal and desperate. His hands found your breasts, and his fingers skillfully traced around your nipples, teasing and pinching your sensitive mounds. 

You let out a desperate whine, encouraging him further. You wanted nothing more than for Portgas D. Ace to get on to the main event, but he seemed to be having plenty of fun watching you moan in a puddle of frustration and pleasure. 

“The bed,” you breathed, finally breaking apart from him. “Let’s move there.”

“So eager,” he chuckled, peppering your neck with soft kisses.

You tilted your head and arched your back as his lips ventured further down your chest until you could feel his hot breath hovering over your breasts. 

Oh, that cocky bastard was edging you as far as he could, trying to make you melt under his fingers. It was working, of course. But two could play at that game.

You began rocking against his hardened cock, whimpering softly at the stimulation. Ace gave a shaky breath, and you used that moment to move your chest closer to him, forcing his lips to touch your skin. He froze for a moment, then began sucking on your soft skin. 

His tongue swirled over your nipple, causing you to let out an involuntary gasp. Your lips formed his name with every heavy breath. He began sucking hard across your skin, leaving a trail of pink welts behind. Your hands found his sandy blonde hair, twisting and pulling it as your heart rate escalated. You could feel a pool of wetness between your thighs, and you cursed the layers of fabric that still existed between you and him. 

“You really like to demand things, don’t you princess?” Ace mumbled as you pushed him to your other breast. Plenty of people on the ship had called you princess over the years, mostly as an insult. You had come to despise the nickname. But you like the way it rolled off Ace’s lips. 

You hummed, a giggle escaping your lips at his words. “I like to get my way.”

“Then get on the bed.” His command came out as a growl, and you could feel a cord tightening in your abdomen.

As you stood, his fingers reached to your waistband and gently tugged on your pajama bottoms. They had been loose to begin with, and fell to your ankles with little resistance. His face was inches away from your cunt now, only the silky fabric of your underwear separating the two of you. Your heartbeat was in your ears as you watched him, suddenly feeling vulnerable being so exposed to him. You hated that he made you so nervous all the time.

Ace seemed to be in his own little world now. Earlier, he had been afraid to stare at your chest, but now he held no shame in staring at your panties. 

“Ace,” you prompted, eager to get on with the event. 

He pressed his lips to the thin fabric for a moment and then hopped to his feet. Ace grabbed your hand and led you across the room to the bed, oblivious to the fluster he had just caused you with his kiss. As you reached the bed, he hesitated before he sat down. Instead, he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“So now that you got your way and we’re at the bed, what else do you want?” 

Your mouth dropped open, trying to think of a way to properly respond without revealing just how badly you wanted him. 

Ace pulled away and smirked at your shock, pleased that he was finally starting to be able to stun you into silence. His fingertips ignited small flames, and he brushed them over your exposed torso, sending shivers of pleasure across your skin. The fire was warm but non-threatening; it sent a strange, tingling sensation over your body.  

A flamed finger traced across your collarbone and down your arm. “Well, princess?”

“You,” you breathed out. It was the only word you could muster in the moment. 

He must not have been expecting that answer, because his flames burned hotter and brighter for a second, before he extinguished them in a slight panic. He laughed nervously at his mishap. “If that had been anyone else, I would’ve burned them.”

You gave a seductive grin. “You can’t burn me, Fire Fist.”

His lips twitched into a smile. “No, I don’t suppose I can.” 

His lips crashed into yours again, and you both tumbled onto the bed, intertwined. Your legs easily separated so he could position himself above you, and he quickly began jutting against you through the layers of fabric. He was still wearing those damn Navy dress pants, another layer between you and him. As attractive as he was in them, the only place you wanted them now was on the floor. 

You gave a soft whine of frustration, reaching for his belt buckle. 

“What?” he let out a heavy breath. His lips began to trail down your neck and your chest. 

“I want you.” 

“You’ve got me,” he teased. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“No,” you groaned. “More than that.”

He looked up at you, a devious grin on his face as he kissed the flesh right above your navel. He finally sat back on his heels, towering above as you laid helpless beneath him. One of his hands trailed down your torso and began tracing across your thin panties, making you squirm when his fingers ran across particularly sensitive spots.

“Tell me what you want,” he cooed, his eyes studying your face and every expression you made.

“I want you.” Your voice came out as a whimper, and Ace smirked. 

“I need more than that, love.” His fingers tucked under your panties, sliding up and down your folds with ease. Your eyes finally shut, and you let yourself start to fall apart at his skillful touch. 

“Stay with me,” Ace mumbled, his index finger prodding at your hole. 

A moan left your lips, and you could feel yourself clenching around his fingers that had already disappeared. You were so tired of him constantly edging you to the brink of ecstasy, only to leave you hanging. You were never a beggar, but for this you’d have to make an exception.

“I want you to fuck me,” you finally cried out in frustration, staring at him with bleary eyes. “Please, Ace.”

A devilish grin spread over his face, and suddenly his hands were at his belt buckle, desperately trying to unfasten it. You took the opportunity to pull your panties off and kick them to the side.

“Fuck.” Ace’s eyes were only on you as he pulled at his waistband, finally freeing his contained cock. 

Your eyes widened at his length, and you could feel your insides twist at the thought of taking all of him. But even still, you still wanted nothing more than him. 

Your legs spread open even further, inviting him in. Ace palmed himself a few times, examining your body with shaky breaths. He was trying to hide it, but you could see he was growing impatient. 

“Aceeee,” you sang his name, shaking your hips slightly. “Come on.”

He slid his cock up and down your folds a few times, covering himself in your slick. As he lined up at your entrance, he hesitated for a moment. 

“You sure you wanna do this?” 

You scoffed. “Just fuck me already, Portgas D. A--ah!” His name quickly turned into a gasp as he slowly pushed himself inside you. There was a slight burning sensation from the pressure, his girth forcing your hole to widen.

Your eyes rolled back as you struggled to adjust to his size. Your walls fluttered around him, filled completely, and then stretched even further. He gave you a moment to adjust, and then continued going even deeper, trying to see just how much of him you could take.

His calloused thumb reached down and began rubbing rough circles against your clit, causing you to let out a soft whimper. The mix of pain and pleasure; you hadn’t felt this alive in years. It felt like your entire body was on fire, tingling with excitement. 

Ace moaned your name as he bottomed out, and he held you there for a moment, stretching you as much as you could handle. You could feel his eyes on you, watching you squirm beneath him in frustration.

He pulled out of you completely, leaving you empty and longing for him again. You were about to protest, but he slammed his dick back inside of you, making your complaint come out as a garbled choke. 

“That’s a good girl,” Ace praised, starting to pump in and out of you rhythmically. “Take it all, okay?”

You gave him a teary-eyed nod, feeling that familiar tug in your stomach start to build again. He guided your legs up to rest on his shoulders and leaned down to give you a quick kiss on the lips. You smiled at his gentle touch, humming in approval. 

“You’re so cute like this,” Ace said, eyes moving down your body. “Laid out on display for me.”

“For you,” you echoed back. Your thoughts were starting to get muddled as he picked up the pace. You couldn’t think of anything or anyone else but him and you, together in this moment. Lewd noises filled the room, mixing with heavy breaths and soft moans as both of you climbed to the finish line. 

“Ace,” you whimpered. His cock was buried inside you, hitting your sweet spot time and time again. Your knees were becoming weak, your legs shaking from exhaustion. You were clenching around his cock, and your fingernails had embedded into his back as you tried to hold off your orgasm for as long as you could.

“Don’t hold back.” He gave you another kiss and buried his head in the crook of your neck. “Cum for me, princess.”

You did as you were told, and you felt the ecstasy wash over you as you cried out his name again and again. Your walls spasmed around him, and you felt his thrusts get sloppy and then stop altogether as he came inside you a moment later. Both of you hung there for a moment, riding out your high together with garbled chokes and tight grips around each other. 

When you both had finished, he collapsed on top of you, his head against your chest. You held him for a long time, your fingers dancing along his back. Neither of you wanted to move or speak, afraid that you would disturb the other and the raw emotion that hung in the air. 

Once your breathing and heartbeat had returned to normal, Ace sighed, kissed the nape of your neck, and got up. He grabbed his boxers and threw them on, and started to head for the door. 

“Ace?” you called out, your heart faltering at the idea he would leave you alone after such an intimate moment. 

“I’ll be right back,” he mumbled, shooting you a reassuring smile. You nodded, trying to settle your nerves. While he was gone, you took the time you were alone to find a fresh pair of pajamas to change into. 

He came back a few minutes later, two glasses of water in hand. He passed one off to you and downed his own. The space between you and Ace felt too wide, but you drank your water silently and then set the glass on the nightstand, resisting the urge to crawl back into his arms. 

“We should get some sleep,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. 

“I was thinking the same thing.” Ace wrapped his arms around you, pulled you against him, and gingerly kissed the top of your head. The two of you sank into the bed again, with you curled into his chest, his strong arms holding you tightly. 

Given the circumstances, you knew you should’ve offered to keep watch. You still had the Navy hunting after you. But Ace’s embrace was so comforting, and the bed was so cozy. You couldn’t help but quickly drift off into sleep, happier than you had been in a long time.

--

Tag list! @taeyoge @teiza @tojislawyer @trafalgardnami @bloopbopsblog @dancingnewcat @dxestyi @flooofity @deadsnothere @h-rhodes1598  @morgyyyyyyy @trafalgardvivi  @fiestynatureweeb @frogpogjoghurt @beepboopcowboy @ms-portgas @luvyallbabes

(if you'd like to be included in the tag list, just comment or send me a message!)

[fandomfluffandfuck]

its my birthday soon, Mr. S!

mayhaps you could write something about Seb making himself go stupid (either with his hand or with something more…. siliconey, if you will) and Chris catching him?

tysm!! 🫶🏻

I've had this prompt for a really long time, so I have the feeling that your birthday has passed, and I'm sorry about not getting to this sooner. Regardless, happy belated birthday!

Also, this got, uh, dirty. Moreso than usual, maybe? Idk, depending on your version of dirty because if we're going silicone and going dumb, then let's fucking GO because--

First and formost, I think that perhaps these terribly filthy thoughts have been inspired by the stony fic, "Alien sex toys are safer than admitting your feelings, until they're not" by pouringinsheets that you may or may not be interested in because it's stony but 🥴🥴 Steve and tentacles? Guh. Sign me the fuck up.

So, tentacles, that'd be so embarrassing to go dumb over, wouldn't it, Seb? 😏

(Something like, Ika® the Tentacle from Bad Dragon perhaps?)

Honestly, Mackie probably bought the toy for Seb as a gag gift on a loooong press tour, knowing after one too many drinks that he was missing his man badly. And sexual frustration resulting from being trapped on a whirlwind press tour away from your friends and family will make you do weird shit sometimes. Weird shit, like, for example, buying your dear friend inappropriate things and winking and nudging him when you finally hand it over, saying he should put it to good use, maybe later tonight even, because it's Tuesday and you know your friend and his boyfriend FaceTime on Tuesdays 'cause that's the only night, no matter what you do do, you can't wear Sebastian down to going out with you.

So.

It's Mackie's fault.

He's a true troublemaker.

And after just about dying of mortification (and threatening Mackie to never tell him anything again if he's going to use his insider knowledge for evil like this) Sebastian originally was going to toss the gag gift toy into the bottom of his suitcase and be done with it. He would throw it away... give it away (is that a thing you can do? It's not like he's going to open it, and he doesn't want it to be a massive waste, so? Maybe?)... or whatever. He was definitely going to get rid of the evidence.

He never wanted to think about the damn thing again, so big, blue (actually a pretty tasteful light into dark blue fade that, because Sebastian is hopelessly in love, made him think of the emoji Chris is so fond of using 💙), and shaped so intensely like, well, something not human. A tentacle. Maybe an octopus? A squid? Maybe an alien? Sebastian isn't sure. And he swore, to himself, as he buried the toy in its box under his packed clothes, toiletries, and other travel clutter, that he would burst into flames if he so much as thought about it again. So, he had to hide it. There was nothing else to be done. He couldn't face it.

But, goddamnit, as the days drag on and on, Sebastian just can't get the obscene thing out of his head. Press is mind-numbing with the same questions repeated until he can spit out answers in his sleep. It's natural that he needs something else to focus on, then, right? It's just unfortunate that his fixation is over a fucking joke sex toy.

And it's just that... that he's never seen anything like it. He didn't know of such a brand. Bad Dragon? He refuses to look it up to see if all the toys are like the one Mackie got him, so he lives in a stupidly intriguing (for whatever reason) mystery. Also, a tentacle? Dragons don't even, traditionally, at least, have those. Huh?

More than the questionable branding and, probably, more than just needing something to fill his mind, Seb can't get the phallic fucking thing, heavy in its box at the bottom of his bag, out of his head for the sheer idea of it.

Looking at the graphic graphic on the outside of the box with its connal shape and textured suckers, Seb couldn't imagine what it would feel like in the nonexistent scenario where it was inside him.

Any sex toy he's ever owned has had one of two textures--smooth or ribbed. Smooth, soft silicone that sinks into him satisfyingly easy, gliding with the right about of lube, or more rigid ribbed surfaces that tug against his rim and rub deep inside him until he's clenching and gasping. He's never had something where there are repeated raised circles on one side, then on the other, there's nothing. It's just smooth. Both at once have to be confusing at worst and overwhelming at best, right?

Still, he can't imagine what it would actually feel like. So, naturally, his curious mind dwells on it. More and more. The thoughts invade him at every hour.

How different would it be from any other insertable sex toy? Would he be able to differentiate the textured side from the smooth side? How soft or hard is the body of the toy itself? It looks... squishy. Does the slight curve and curve back of the shape do anything? Does it feel different, assuming that it's rigid enough to keep that shape when shoved inside him?Would it feel good at all if he fucke himself with it? Surely there's something to it, otherwise it wouldn't be sold, right?

Right?

Sebastian goes in fucking circles, driving himself insane with the thoughts and the ensuing embarrassment the thoughts bring. He zones out, falling into the vortex of questions with no answers over this god forsaken tentacle sex toy. Then, when he realizes what he's doing, spiraling, he goes pink. Everywhere. Pink. And, at that point, he can't help but squirm in his seat, wherever he is, desperately hoping--sometimes in dire situations where he's thinking especially inappropriate thoughts--that no one within his vicinity can secretly read minds. If they could, he would know, though. Because he's sure the shock and probable disgust would be written across his face.

Sebastian isn't, he doesn't--he wouldn't kink shame. But there's a difference, he's finding, in himself where what he wouldn't really actually judge someone else for being into, he would certainly judge himself for being into. Wonderful.

Not that...

No.

He's not into this! He's just curious. That's it.

And that's probably not his favorite thought, considering the last time he was curious about something that something was men and then he went on a bender kissing and doing other stuff with basically any guy at any club he could get into until he was scared he was getting to famous to do that. So he cooled it off and fought his way to the acceptance of his own bisexuality.

Seb circles the drain, downward spiral getting nowhere, until he's finally, finally, finally home. Home sweet home in his tiny New York City apartment where he's chaotically ripping into his suitcase, unpacking and mostly flinging dirty clothes into the laundry basket, when he finds it. It's not even an oh yeah moment because he didn't forget. He doesn't really find it. He knew exactly where he was.

There it is.

Big. Blue. Shaped just like a tentacle. And, somehow, heavier than he remembers. It's hefty. Probably thick and definitely long.

Sebastian licks his lips.

He can't...

Push comes to shove, and he can't bring himself to throw it out because, because, because think of all the waste! That's so much silicone. So much time and effort to rot in a landfill. Because, well, he's curious. And because, oh no--

The devil on Seb's shoulder decides to raise its tiny little fit and hits him over the back of his head with a thought.

A rush of thoughts, really.

Disappointingly, Chris couldn't meet him at his NYC apartment like they had hoped after months--that's right pural--of being separated, schedule conflicts with their stupid fucking careers of auditioning, filming on site, then filming at this other site, waiting for editing, and going on press tours all over everywhere, so Sebastian is, just, frustrated by himself. He's wishing he weren't by himself. And he's thinking about Chris, as he always seems to be. He's thinking about the fantastic, crazy reunion sex they'd be having if he was here instead of Sebastian unpacking right away. Seb is thinking about how toe-curling-ly nice it is when Chris gets caught up in the moment and gets rough and shoves and takes and suddenly, yeah, oh fucking no because Seb's mind is full of that toy.

Not just that single toy as it lies limp in its box, though. It's worse. With the devil-on-his-shoulder's terrible influence, Seb's mind is full of that toy it it was even more wriggling and bigger and stronger and alive.

He is hit like a hurricane, blowing out a rushing breath of hot air, thinking about tentacles being rough with him. Involuntarily, Sebastian lets out a little sound. A tiny, under his breath whimper.

Rougher than Chris, even. Tentacles made of coiling muscle, hot and slick, sliding over his skin to tangle him up in their grasp like living ropes tying his body into the most challenging shibari poses where he struggles to stay. Sebastian wouldn't be able to be folded and molded into those positions if not for the rough tentacles using him mindlessly. Taking. Plundering and claiming. Merciless inside him, uncaring how much pleasure Sebastian does or doesn't get. Sebastian is riding high on pleasure, though, eyes rolling back as one of them creeps between his straining, spread-wide thighs and screws itself into him. Stuffing him full. Deep.

Oh.

If it were really spectacularly rough and hungerily plundering and deliciously merciless, though, it wouldn't just be his ass. The tentacles would be in all his holes, wouldn't they?

Through his bottom lip stuck between his teeth, Sebastian whimpers again. Muffled, yet louder than before, as he sinks into the most pornographic corners of his mind. New fantasies forming dizzingly fast.

The tentacles, thick and long and hot, so fucking strong, could go up his ass and down his throat, and he would feel so full. Nearly bursting at the seams. They could tangle up in his belly, keeping him full and heavy, and--they could be even more places, couldn't they?

Another sound, a moan from a memory meshing and combining with his newfound obsession--

Chris has sounded him a handful of times--not enough, but their lives are batshit insane and it's so intense and time consuming--and every time he's had that cold, glistening metal rod shoved down his urethra, Sebastian has been sure he's cumming the whole time. Oh, god. It's the most intense thing. It hurts. It feels too fucking good. It's like being fucked from the inside out. It's pumping waves of pleasure, shattering him with each peak. Every fraction of an inch deeper the sound goes, the higher Seb's voice goes.

Jesus.

The tentacles could shove down into his cock, raw and hard, and be everywhere, forcing his legs open, restraining his arms, fucking hard into his ass, tugging at his balls, curling around the shaft of his cock, forcing themselves down into his cock, squeezing his waist like they're trying to feel themselves tangled in his gut, fucked down his throat, too. Bruising him wherever they hold and grab him. Taking him.

Fuck me.

Sebastian shivers so hard, so suddenly that he drops the box onto the floor, narrowly missing his toes.

He needs it.

He needs to be taken, and this toy will have to do. It's the only thing that will do. He has others tucked away in his bedside drawer, but this is what he wants. Needs.

Fumbling to pick up the box containing what he desires so badly, Sebastian grabs that fucking thing, suddenly uncaring about how wierd and self-conscious this feels, rips the cardboard and plastic open, and rushes into his tiny bathroom to wash it quickly with warm water.

Unthinking, Sebastian strips himself as rapidly as he can from his sweats and old, thin t-shirt before climbing into bed with it and lube.

He almost forgets the lube. He's so out of sorts, consumed by his sexual frustration. And that might become the next most embarrassing thing other than the shape of what he's about to put inside himself. When was the last time he was this uncontrollably desperate?

Sprawled out, now also without his underwear, panting, in his own bed, just himself and this mortifyingly bright blue tentacle, Sebastian does it. He starts getting himself ready to be fucked by this thing. He cracks open the lube and gets his fingers covered liberally, dripping really, so they're glistening in the low light before wasting no time to shove one, then, two, and three fingers inside himself.

Guh.

Face down on the bed, reaching around to finger himself, Seb finds himself drooling, just a little, into the sheets that he cleaned before he left; he was planning to come home to a nice, made bed, that he's now ruining, he doesn't give a shit, though, just like he wouldn't've cared if he had been able to come home to Chris and they fucked up his bed together. His bed, the wall, the couch, or anything. Sebastian would've taken anything gladly. It's been too long since he had something inside him. He's just been jerking off and passing out after press tour late nights mostly. This is... yeah.

Yeah, fuck yeah, this is good.

Three fingers deep, twisting his wrist sharply to press against the edge of his prostate, brushing past, leaving his mouth gaping, his toes twitching. Curling. A harsh breath is kicked out of him. Oof. Pleasure rockets through him, electric, as he makes a more direct hit. The angle isn't perfect, and he definitely won't be able to do this for too long, but still, it's... oh.

God.

Yes.

Seb just barely tears his fingers from his own body. It feels so good. But, he's even more enticed by what's waiting for him, a whimper caught in the back of his throat.

He's, he's stretched enough now, right? He can--he can take it.

He'll be good, relax, and go slow. He can do it.

He will do it.

Sebastian picks up the oddly shaped toy, fingers wet and shaking as he smothers in it lube as well, his dick twitching to an even worse, more aching hardness with the slick sounds it makes. Smooth and textured.

He can't fucking wait another minute longer to stuff it into himself, so he doesn't. He puts the tapered tip to his stretched entrance and--

"Ohhhhh," he exclaims breathily, humid air rushing out of him as it slides in. At first, it's easy--so, so easy. He stretched himself much wider than the tip of the tentacle, but rapidly, it gets harder.

Hard.

The silicone is soft at the surface, yet there's just enough give to make it feel exotic and unreal, squishy, with just enough rigidity to keep it able to go inside him. He can clench on it hard, but he can also shove it in. Deeper. Fuck--god.

The toy is so slippery when it's coated in lube, and the sensation of it sliding into him is too fucking erotic. But it's only that dangerously, teasingly smooth on one side, feeling indescribably good as his body easily takes the smoothness. The raised suckers on the other side catch on him rim, then give as it thickens, forcing his body to accommodate. It's much wider and even wider than that as he stuffs it into himself, nearing the base.

Another garbled sound exits Sebastian as it enters him. He shivers.

He's already addicted to the difference. It's good. He doesn't know which he likes better so it's so fucking nice that he can have both, causing his head to spin, off-balance in the a way that's good-scary. It feels good. Unfamiliar in a rare delicacy sort of way. He's spread and vulnerable and taking it.

He gets the entire thing into himself, sweating himself into a puddle, and revels in it for too long. Teasing himself, clenching and relaxing around it. It's soft enough that it... it almost wiggles inside him. It's wriggly and soft and Sebastian wouldn't've thought that'd be hot but it fucking is.

More than feeling it filling him, stretching his body open, vulnerable and slutty, he wants it to move. And he may or may not cry out hotly thinking about how good it would be if it really could pump in and out of him by itself. Fucking him. He wants to get fucked so bad.

So, so fucking bad, he needs to be fucked, so even though he's melted into a puddle of heat, sweat, and pre-cum from the dripping slit of his cock, Seb steadies his legs as much as he can, getting them under himself to straddle the nearest pillow. He snatches it up and folds it over and shoves that between his thighs, knowing that when he grinds against in, no matter how pathetic and needy his thrusting is, it will push on the pillow and make the pillow shove firmly against the base of the toy, jostling it, making it almost, almost feel like a thrust. At least, it feels like the toy is moving inside him on its own if he shuts his eyes and let's his head drop back heavily, not thinking. Feeling.

Plus, fucking his pillow like this, fucking himself, squirming, leaves his hands free to touch himself. Free to feel up his own heaving, sweat-slick chest and pinch his hard, tight nipples; free to fondle his pulsing cock and tight balls; free to put his hands palm down on his quivering thighs, feeling his own shaky strength as he rides his pillow.

Helpless to control his volume as he grinds and humps, swiveling his hips, bouncing, riding, he gets louder and louder.

He's fucking loud.

He's moaning and whining, and he keeps hitting his prostate, and there's nothing he can do to choke down the crack that splits his voice.

"Fuh-uck!" He jumps an octave or two as his voice cracks.

He's so loud, getting into it so much, imagining the toy growing, longer and thicker, twisting up inside him. Screwing into him until he's stretched wide around it, made sloppy and loose, full of slick wetness from a tentacle. Used by a tentacle that shows just how fucking deep his appetite for getting fucked and filled goes. He'll take anything.

Anything.

He's so loud that he doesn't notice until--

SLAM!

All at once, his bedroom door comes crashing open with a deafening sound, the wood hitting his wall. It's like the shaking collusion and resulting sound rattles the entire apartment.

Exactly then, Sebastian's heart stops dead from the thundering, pounding speed it was going at.

Huh?What?Who? The words rush through his mind, no meaning, just shock. He's panicked half a second later, processing more, realizing what's happening. Then, he's fucking mortified to be found by a home intruder like this but, but, it gonna be worse than that isn't it because what if they know who he is and then this gets out to the media and it will be worse than if his phone got hacked and all those photos he's send with Chr--

Chris.

Holy fucking shit.

CHRIS.

It's Chris.

And he, well, he looks like he nearly just punched the door down. One of his hands is clenched around the door knob as if he wants to dent the fucking thing while the other hovers in the air, somewhere between looking like he was about to pound on the door, knocking hard, or running through his hair, messing it up, tugging at the strands in pure sexual frustration. (He's not the only one, Sebastian had been about to start pulling his own hair to push himself over the edge.) The expression on his face is dripping in arousal--smeared and wet, so thickly, freshly painted with heat. Dark eyes. Hot cheeks. Lips swollen, red, and wet. Really, it's not just his cheeks that are flushed, he's pink all the way down to the collar of his shirt.

Was he listening to Sebastian's sounds through the door, ear pressed to it? How long was he there before he broke? Did he shoulder it open to get to him as fast as possible? Driven thoughtless and stupid by all the blood rushing to his dick? There are no answers to Seb's questions.

There's no time because, Jesus, Seb can't help but mewl, grinding harder despite his shame. The embarrassment of being caught red-handed entangles him like his imaginary tentacles, adding to the heat he already feels. He is molten. Blazing, white-hot.

Seb hardly gets just one single grind against his wet, teeth-gritting-friction-providing pillow before Chris takes one, two huge lunging steps toward the bed, clearing the room to fucking tackle him flat to the bed. He crushes him bodily to the mattress, all that height and weight, squishing him. Seb can't breathe. He doesn't want to. Even through his clothes, Chris is furnace-hot, he feels good. So solid and heavy and good.

Chris barely has half the mind to growl, "surprise."

Meanwhile, Seb just moans.

Chris hardly has his mitts on him, his blunt fingernails digging into his bare flesh, but Sebastian already knows where this is going. He knows what Chris is going to do to him, and he's ready, out of his mind, to beg for it.

He's so, so totally naked, exposed, while Chris clings to the illusion of being restrained and unaffected, covered head to toe by his everyday clothes. Chris is going to use that, the sham of being controlled.

Chris is going to order him around, shove him around.

Chris is going to embarrass him until Seb's sure he's going to melt into the ground from sheer mortification.

Chris is going to make him cum with the toy before he fucks him. He will fuck him but... first--once he puuuulls the toy out slowly and shoves it in deep, seeing what Seb's working with--Seb will have to admit why he has a monster toy shoved into him.

What about it?

Why's it hot?

What's going on here, baby? This is so dirty, even for you.

There will be no way around it, no way out, for Sebastian. He'll have to stutter and whine and choke through his confession. He's going to have to spread himself open more than just physically, moaning about how he couldn't stop thinking about it, too curious, sobbing over toe-curling the texture, gasping with the thought of being completely pinned, helpless to stop it, writhing at the idea of being taken from every angle.

It'll make Chris smirk, doing that evil thing with the curl of his lips and quirk of one eyebrow. Too hot for his own good. Sebastian will whine, pretending to hate it, even though he can't stop shivering, can't stop begging for Chris, saying his name, clawing at him, clinging to him, cumming when Chris promises to give it to him. He wants to be overwhelmed? Chris can overwhelm him.

Just you wait and see, baby. Just to wait and see...

Jokes on Sebastian, though, because none of that will actually happen if he blacks out from heart-attach-inducing lust before Chris can do anything.

P.S. I hope that was worth the wait! (And thanks for reading this far, lol)

[unlimitedhearts]

I’m dreading the third game of Spiderman might kill off Harry :/ either he’s goblin (solo or probably along with daddy-o) and dies a la Hero Sacrifice. Or kept comatose and in the end with grim results the decision is to pull the plug on him. idk I feel Harry’s fate is doom and gloom. But they could have killed Harry at the end of this sequel giving a strong motivation for Norman to be the Goblin and hatred for Spider-Man…yet they didn’t. idk rambling thoughts. What do you think?

Personally i can see both options. I saw someone in the tags of my last headcanon post say that it wouldnt make sense to save him from death in this game only to kill him in the next. On some level i get that, why wait when you could do it now?

I have two worst case scenarios in my head:

Harry wakes up from his coma w amnesia a la the third Tobey Maguire movie. Hes unaware of Pete being Spider-Man and Peter, thinking hes protecting Harry, wont tell him. This may cause a rift in their friendship when Harry finds out - or if Norman ends up going goblin and dies - Spider-Man is to blame in Harrys eyes and he'll go after him then. To me this is a tired trope of Harry getting an intense hatred for Spidey and wanting to kill him over his father. It always felt out of character for me and i truly TRULY hope they dont go this route.

Harry becomes the Kobold. In the comics, Kobold is essentially Harrys way of making the Green Goblin a good guy. If he still wants to fight by Peters side, he'll find a way to do it. Kobold would make a lot of sense to me personally, as it kind of continues their dynamic from this game. Then at the end theres a heros sacrifice to be made and Harry goes for it despite Peters protests. This would be lazy to me too though because he essential already did the heros sacrifice in this game. Seems like theyd just want us to have more time with him to love him even more, just to make losing him hurt worse. I wouldn't put it past an intrepid writer to think they could make it work, but it just seems lazy to me.

Actual best case scenario for me though? Harry wakes up as the g-serum is being injected. Hes against being his dads experiment all over again so he runs and finds Peter. Hes not aware of his pseudo-retirement, he just goes straight to the place thats always been his safe haven; Peters home. He asks Peter to hide him from his dad. Tries to explain everything but hes exhausted and frantic. Peter agrees and they take him into hiding.

Norman, ever the expert deflector, doesnt see this as a failing on his part. Hes convinced spider-man had something to do with his son escaping so he puts out a hit on him. Hes ready, willing, and able to capture and kill at least one of the two spider-men it doesnt matter. We see him pardon Wilson Fisk for this job, and when Fisk cant do it, he has to. Normans going to go Goblin. I know it, i can feel it in my bones.

Miles asks Peter to get back in action and he does. Fisk, plus potentially Otto again, plus this brand new villain in town is too much for any one person to handle. Heres where i see Harry becoming a "Guy In The Chair" for Peter like Ganke is for Miles. Two Guys in the Chair helping the spider-men is definitely better than one. I could also see Harrys goblin powers start to emerge but he keeps pushing them down. Last time he gave into power it didnt end well for anyone.

In an effort to not write out the entire plot of the game as i see fit (because itd be long and there are so many moving pieces and characters and IDEK WHERE THEYRE GONNA PUT SILK IN-), i think if Harry does take on the cowl he'll be doing so against his father. I think i see Harry becoming Goblin/Kobold to fight against Norman and ultimately try to help Peter/Miles. This is where i see Harry either accidentally killing Norman or Norman killing his son (and of course, blaming Spider-Man)

There is also room, in my mind, to bring back Venom a la Lethal Protector/Agent Venom. But tbh if they do, i would much rather Venom go to Eddie Brock or Flash Thompson. But thats just the separate Venom Fangirl Entity within me.

Ultimately my hope of course is that Harry not die and they dont go down that all too tired and hackneyed trope of Harry growing to hate Peter dor whatever reason. I truly TRULY hope they dont go that route it is just SO tired and lazy. I want them to stay close and loving. Whatever route they go with will be SO MUCH MORE IMPACTFUL if Harry Osborn lives and doesnt make a full 180 on his best friend for no good reason.