#sex headcanon asks

[gaybd1]

Idk about airbending, but the temperature play potential of someone who can make fire AND ice at a moment's notice...

KORRA YES GAWD there is so much interesting potential in the korrasami bedroom…

The Fire

The ice

The air bending shenanigans

Asami’s lil shock glove

The Avatar state, idk what it specifically would do but it’s gotta help

[strawlessandbraless]

Possessive Castiel with a marking kink makes me feral

[barblaz-arts]

ahhhhhhh! Have you seen Steph and Erika detailing a perfect Chaggie date night at Twin Cities Con?! 😍 (poor Stephanie’s voice was gone, but she still nailed it!) https://x.com/Smileyy_0307/status/1855434398252101647

Jsksksjsksknsksnsns

Thank you so much for showing me this because I didn't see this on twitter! Omgomgomg

I can totally see all that happening. That's so fuckin cute. I need fics and fanarts about this.

(Not Erika insinuating that Charlie has crazy stamina in bed tho💀💀💀💀💀💀)

[kencoded-kengirl]

nobody knows how to write succession sex oh my god. please stop writing stewy and kendall snuggling in bed. we all know kenstew aftercare comes in 1 form and 1 form only: kendall crying incredibly loudly and wetly into the pillow while stewy rolls over and watches tiktoks on full volume for about 15 minutes until he stops feeling completely burned out on kendall as a person

[kiestrokes]

Omg so I can't stop thinking about high sex with ateez like ive been so insatiably horny everything I've smoked or had an edible I just AHHH i just want dick so bad

Stoned Sex with ATEEZ | NSFW

Pairing: ATEEZ x Reader/You/Yn (vagina pov) Rating: NSFW. Mature (18+) Minors DNI. Genre: headcanon, imagine, smut. Warnings: cannabis use (obviously), in theory both parties are high, so it is mutual, everyone is consenting, established relationship vibes.

Sexually Explicit Content: mentions of subspace, morning sex, rough sex, deep sex, feral (idk at this point just proceed with caution if you're just a vanilla person), rough touches, kissing, biting, cockwarming, oral (f receiving), humping, thigh fucking, surprise orgasm, orgasms.

🗝️ Note: let me know if I missed anything for the warnings, I am not really here in the realm of proof reading. Sorry, this took me a while to get to my atiny anon, hope it's enough to hold you over until you make it to a dick appt!

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted here. 

Park Seonghwa Hwa appears unassuming, the two of you go through the usual nightly routine but once he's got you in the bed things shift. He's a needy cat, pawing across your body, you fit snug against his hips as he rocks softly into you from behind, moaning about how soft and plush your skin is when he's like this. He doesn't want to be inside you, just nestled between your thighs from behind as his slim fingers play your clit like an instrument, stroking moans out of your body with each pluck.

Kim Hongjoong High Joong gives me feral vibes...HJ is usually so reserved. But something about the THC sends his brain into overdrive. Hongjoong can't keep his mouth off of you. It's everywhere, until it's finally exactly where you need. Between your thighs. He's rocking his hips restlessly into the end of the mattress at each squirm and thrust of you pelvis against his chin.

Jeong Yunho He is probably the most aware while high, the only thing is his grip is a little stronger than normal. Yunho basically wants to embed himself in your body. For his hands to become one with your thighs. You wake up with lovely handprints in the morning reminding you of him.

Kang Yeosang I feel like stoned sex with Yeo is going to be soft, like how Hwa talks about him being cute drunk. He's whiney and very vocally appreciative of you and your body. It's slow and maybe a little intense, missionary with you rolling on top. Yeo loses it when you press him down into the bed. He dissolves a little into subspace when he's high.

Choi San guys (non-gendered) I am so sorry but THIS man, he falls asleep before anything can actually happen. He sleepily stokes your fire, but you're left finishing the job yourself. Sorry to my San biases, I wish I felt different about this one too. He's just a sleepy man. Definitely wakes you up in the morning for some slowww, drawn out sex. He's intense from how he gazes at you to the lingering pace at which he fucks you.

Song Mingi High Mings becomes big and pliable. He's also whiney and vocal like Yeosang, but a little less articulate. Mingi wants to spoon you, which quickly escalates into something else. His hands are all over you, drifting across your body. Crushing you into his lap as he tries to bury himself in you, deeper and deeper with each thrust. The two of you fall asleep with him still inside (rip you with that uti later).

Jung Wooyoung Feral like his hyung...this guy. He can’t get enough of anything. His skin feels like it’s on fire. He wants to be melted to you. Your lips, tongue, it’s drawn-out sex because he doesn’t want it to end. You're overstimulated in the best way possible; every nerve ending is firing.

Choi Jongho Is giggly. I can just FEEL it. Jongho is laughing but also giving you that intense gaze and each touch is purposeful. You're so keyed up from the laughter and foreplay that your giddiness spills over into a quick and extreme orgasm that takes you both by surprise. Jongho has never come so quickly, and you sure as hell never have.

© COPYRIGHT 2023 by kiestrokes All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced without written permission from the author. This includes translations.

[everchased]

HELLO I LOVE YOUR HALF ORC TAV, I havent seen many fellow half-orc tavs!! Tusk gang high five!!

Very important question: how do you think Aatarion and a Half-Orc Tav would kiss? 🤔 it be a very teethy situation with so many fangs and tusks

ahaha thank you!! <3

to me, they have a fine time with it as long as their mouths stay closed. astarion's fangs probably aren't any more in the way for a half-orc than they are for other races. they're not too big, and he's practiced.

i think deeper open-mouth kissing is the real danger because that's when the risk of catching lips and knocking teeth really happens and boy those tusks sure are. just in the way.

imo a little bit of teeth bumping if they forget themselves is cute, it's untapped potential to get teased by the vampire for being too eager. but i also think it's possible to avoid IF they pay attention. :)c

here i have an example of a successful smooch excuse the blood

[justaz]

somehow for some reason the knights take on a spell that lights up the scars that litter their bodies. arthur has the most with leon as a close second. gwaine and percival and pretty much tied for third though gwaines are much smaller - from more brawls than battles. elyan and lancelot have their fair share but less that the others. that is until they turn to see merlin lit up like a goddamn glowstick. the others (bar lancelot) had been expecting maybe a few nicks from being on the outskirts of battles or mishaps from working on a farm back in ealdor, not……this. the light (which shines through their clothes as if the fabric isn’t even there) is practically blinding on merlin, covering every inch of skin. more so than even arthur. lancelot prompts them all to move on and everyone does, holding themselves back from asking the questions they desperately want answered

[liesmyth]

here for the horny lyctor posting as requested

anyway do you think dios apate was actually like. good sex. or was jod trying so hard not to come after not fucking for ten thousand years that it was terrible to severely mediocre

John thought that the sex was amazing incredibile awesome showstopping. tender. heartwrenching. pleasantly filthy. Objectively it was probably kinda mid. But I think Augustine and Mercy choreographed it down to rehearsing the bickering they would allow John to mediate, and planned in details how to blow his mind so he wouldn't notice the treason. He complained about too much foreplay but the foreplay was calculated to drive him out of his mind. I think also he was his normal amount of patronising during it, and at multiple points Augustine and Mercy thought in vivid details about strangling him.

(I love thinking about Dios Apate it makes my day 100% better! ty for my LIFE)

[theriverbeyond]

Do you think at the end of Alecto, Kiriona will go from being a Tower Prince to a Pillow Prince?

KAIEJFKFOSKKDDKS ok she deserves to!!!!!

like, Gideon is so deeply service oriented especially wrt her physical body and what she can do for/give to others, so I just think it would be a nice character moment if she was able to get to a space where she could accept care and service as well. is it feasible for her to achieve that in the book? unclear! will she get there in my google docs: already has 🫡

[ellecdc]

I LOVEEEEEEEEEEEEEE that last anonymous

mother Elle, this is NSFW by the way!! but who put of the guys would have the highest sex drive vs the lowest? HEHE 😜

I'll answer this and I'm not going to provide any reasoning behind it

Highest to lowest:

Barty

Sirius + Remus are tied

Regulus

James

Does not mean James has a low sex-drive, just that he has the lowest out of the bunch of them (in my head)

[allastoredeer]

My biggest pet peeve considered Lucifer aside from what you already mentioned is when I read a fic or look at art and can't see in character wearing his face an old man that he is (who's not human and never was human to begin with) who lived thousands of years and older than humanity. And who clearly had a long sex life with his wife (and who knows maybe not only with her, I find it hard to believe that you can live for so long and never show interest in other people) so definitely not gonna act like an inexperienced virgin.

Agreed.

I love my boi Alastor, but I doubt there's anything he could do, sex wise, that's going to surprise Lucifer. That guys has been having sex since way, way, way before Al was even born, and I think his and Lilith's sex life was wild and kinky as fuck.

Technically speaking, Lucifer is the most sexually experienced person in Hell barring, perhaps, Asmodeus. Top, bottom, or switch, Lucifer knows what he's doing.

[gaybd1]

Aang's throat game is probably fucking legendary with all his airbender breathing techniques

This is revolutionary... I am thinking of Every Airbender Including Korra now damn WHAT THAT MOUTH DO

[ghosts-and-glory]

I know you've previously said that you don't like anyone misgendering Shamura, but what if it's in a flashback? Like Shamura used to be male/female and then transitioned to they/them pronouns.

Would that be an acceptable form of misgendering, since it would be backstory for explaining how Shamura is now they/them?

Y’all really do just want any excuse to disrespect non-binary people huh?

I really like how the idea of Shamura having a binary sex is stated as a fact/sar. As if cult of the lamb has any references to binary sex. This also assumes that I’m the ultimate authority on Shamura’s gender. “Acceptable form of misgendering,” Jesus.

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

Chapter 26

PLEASEEEEEE NOTE: this is a Maturity rating chapter. heed the content warnings below etc etc

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

this one was supposed to be merged with chap 25 but it was getting long and i felt like this motive reveal chapter should be isolated anyways

one day i will write a full thing about fucking nasty style and post that online without the 25 chapters of leadup

ty @digitaldollsworld for the peer review and validating me specifically :)

Content warning tags: blood, physical violence/roughhousing, biting, making out (while bloodied. mild bloodplay?), mildly dubious consent becoming unspoken consent given enthusiastically becoming dubious consent again, coitus interruptus, mild (nonsexual) breathplay, murder plot suggestion, unhealthy relationship dynamics...Please let me know if there's anything I'm missing

< previous - from start - next >

To his surprise, they don’t continue on the same path together.

Instead, they split, with Kirigiri walking towards the stairs, and Makoto in the opposite direction. Without exchanging words, or even a glance.

It gives him pause for a moment, but the choice is ultimately easy. Kirigiri, for all her mysteriousness, does not seem like the kind to be swayed by money, or most other things for that matter, and would certainly not hesitate to point out his current state. He goes after Makoto instead, trailing him some steps behind into the supply room.

The place is the same as ever - stacked with materials, shelves crammed snug with crates of all sizes, and with the air disconcertingly clean and free of dust, as if Monokuma vacuumed every day - and the overhead lights hum and buzz, glowing with an insufficient yellow light. Makoto is crouched near the far wall, over a box on a bottom shelf. Byakuya approaches, making no effort to conceal himself.

For a moment, neither of them say a word. Makoto continues to rummage, and Byakuya simply watches, arms crossed, waiting patiently as the silence stretches to minutes. 

Finally, Makoto turns over his shoulder. “Uh…hi?” He doesn’t sound startled or surprised by Byakuya’s presence, but more bewildered by it than anything. “Do you need something?”

Somehow, it doesn’t sound sarcastic or spiteful. On the other hand, he sounds so genuine that it dissipates any tension that might’ve been in the air. Byakuya sighs, a little exasperated, but less bothered than he thought he should be.

He was going to ask what Makoto’s feelings were about the motive reveal, but suddenly the atmosphere is all wrong for it, and such a conversation feels too exhausting to have now. “What are you doing?” He asks instead.

“I’m…” Makoto trails off, turning back to look into the box. “...Looking for something.”

“Yes, I gathered that much.” He rolls his eyes, and steps nearer. Even standing right behind him, it was impossible to determine the exact contents of the box just by looking, and he didn’t remember the exact locations where all the products were stored either. “I’m blind, not stupid.”

And he blinks, surprised by what he just said; that hadn’t been the snide remark he wanted to make. It feels like it should have been harder to say, and yet the words had left his mouth easily, like he’d been waiting to finally say it for himself. Makoto startles a bit, just as taken aback by the admission as he.

“I…” Makoto starts, then looks back down. “Uh, yeah. Sorry.” 

The response is so meek it’s annoying, and not the kind of answer he was wanting from someone who had been sneakily butting into his life the past few days, and he scowls. Whatever light-heartedness had been previously present was now slipping quickly away into irritation. “I don’t need your pointless scraping. What are you looking for?”

Makoto doesn’t answer. Rather, he continues to dig through the box, acting as if he hadn’t heard Byakuya’s question at all; a complete reversal from the previous sheepish, meaningless apologizing. It’s almost jarring, if it wasn’t also something entirely infuriating - he couldn’t remember the last time someone had the gall to ignore him, other than his father - and Byakuya childishly aims a kick at his shin. “Answer me.”

“Ow,” He says instead, unconvincingly. “Okay, okay, um. Do you promise not to get mad?”

“I’m going to be even angrier if you keep talking in circles.” He snaps, the last threads of his patience thinning. “I know for a fact that you’re not this wimpish, so speak up.”

Even despite the demand, Makoto is silent a little moment longer, rummaging still. Byakuya is about to kick him again, when he stands up, a tiny, blue box clutched in his hand.

“You, uh…you were shaving this morning, right?” He takes a deep breath, then holds the box out. “You’ve got a little blood here-” And he taps a finger against his cheek, somewhere below his ear; Byakuya mirrors the movement, reaching up to feel that thin line of roughness, the scab tugging at the skin. “And…I remembered my dad gave me this brand of razor, it’s really easy to use-”

Byakuya smacks the thing out of his hands before he can even finish speaking, sending it spinning across the floor, beneath some other shelf.

For a moment, the two of them stand there, stock still. Byakuya can feel his pulse thrumming in his ears, throbbing against his eardrums; he’s not sure which of them is more shocked, to be honest. Makoto’s hand is still partially outstretched, now empty.

Then: “What the hell is your problem?!” Makoto demands, instantaneous and loud and cracked with a slight note of hysteria. The sound bounces tinnily between the metal shelving units, before being swallowed into the wooden surfaces of the crates.

“What is your problem?” Byakuya shoots back, just as furious. “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want your pity?”

“It’s not pity if I’m trying to keep you alive,” Makoto grabs his arm, shoving it upwards. His hand is nowhere big enough to wrap around it, but the grip is tight anyways, fingers digging into the hollow junction of his wrist. “You barely eat, you don’t talk to anyone-”

“I’m trying to keep myself safe-”

“That’s shit, that’s bullshit. You look,” He breaks to breathe, to laugh, and his grip tightens, grinding the bones. “You look like such shit, and it’s not even hard to tell. It’s so obvious that you’re trying to hide it but you can’t, and everyone can see that you’re falling apart and it’s so pathetic but you won’t let anyone get close enough to tell you that -” He’s shaking, or maybe that’s Byakuya himself. “Just-”

And falls silent - no, not entirely silent. Byakuya can hear his uneven breathing, the quiet squeaks in his throat. Stifling the sound of his crying, still only just audible over the hum and clanks of the building’s internals, and the ring in his own ears.

Why was he crying? The thought is fleeting, and should have just been a blip in everything else. “I am not,” He starts, and the latter half of that sentence never even becomes coherent in his own mind.

Instead, he tries to wrench his hand backwards and away from Makoto’s grip, and Makoto just follows him, pushing him, until his back meets the hard, uneven edges of a shelving unit, digging into his shoulders.

“You are, you so are,” Makoto wheezes. His hand shakes violently, but Byakuya still can’t break out of it; his wrist is being pinned to the metal frame, the cold surface a shock against his skin. “You - fuck, you can’t even take care of yourself. You try to act so cool but you’re so helpless it’s lame. You’re trying so hard to predict where the next threat is coming from but your biggest threat is yourself. You can��t even see what’s happening around you, so you don’t even try to find out - I just -”

And he stops, taking another deep, shaky breath, head dipping down until his forehead rests against Byakuya’s collarbone. His other hand is bracing the edge of a shelf, next to Byakuya’s hip, and Byakuya can feel it by sheer proximity, the warmth bleeding impossibly through the layers of Makoto’s jacket and his own thin shirt.

He-

should say something. Anger and indignation boils in his gut, how dare Makoto say such things? Who gave him the right? Didn’t he know who Byakuya was?

But-

what can he say, when it feels like he’s suddenly been struck stupid. Like he’s a child again facing his first real defeat at the hand of one of his siblings’s lackeys, kneeling with scraped knees weeping blood into his pants as he’s being taunted, the words hysteric and victorious. Like he’s trying to argue with Kirigiri, but she’s already had the last word and is simply walking away.

So he resorts to the same answer he had the first time he was forced to concede to one of his siblings, and kicks Makoto in the shin.

It’s not a very strong blow. Caged in against the shelf as he is, he doesn’t have enough space to pull back very far; but it makes Makoto grunt, surprised, and his hold loosens. Byakuya shoves him backwards, and glances to his side, where the white light spilling from the open door marks the exit.

He could leave. He doubts Makoto could catch him if he ran seriously. But his legs refuse to move; it would feel too much like conceding. He’s been losing too much these past few days to forfeit again, now.

Makoto is standing in front of him, the overhead lights above providing just enough illumination for Byakuya to make out the location of his nose, the curve of his brow, and in the split second before he can do anything Byakuya reaches out. One hand snags fingertips into Makoto’s hood. The other grabs his face, slotting his chin almost tenderly into the space between forefinger and thumb.

The effect is instantaneous, Makoto’s cheeks heating beneath his fingertips. “Hey, wh-”

Byakuya feels his face pull, an undignified baring of teeth that’s barely reminiscent of a smile, before he drags Makoto forward and knees him in the gut.

He prefers more dignified solutions to things, but violence is the most universally understood language, and he can admit to its usefulness when the need calls. Like now, as Makoto wheezes, bent over, his hands clutching unsteadily in Byakuya’s shirt to keep himself upright.

This is how it should be, he thinks, as he looks down at the crown of Makoto’s head with a twisted sense of triumph. It hardly lasts long before Makoto’s moving again with an animalistic growl, fingers twisting so tightly Byakuya can feel some threads snap in his shirt, before he’s shoved backwards with a rattling clang against the shelves.

It’s hardly enough to stun him, but he winces anyway, at the metal frame digging between his shoulder blades. Far more effective, is what comes next - Makoto sways, resting his forehead against Byakuya’s chest - before surging upwards, colliding the top of head against his nose.

The taste of copper is an afterthought to the sharp, explosive burst of pain. Byakuya screams - snarls - with it, blood tracking a hot line down his upper lip, stinging against raw skin. He sinks his hands into Makoto’s hair, and yanks roughly, trying to drag him off.

It’s unsuccessful. He doesn’t have the strength in his arms to move the weight of another teenage male, but it’s not wholly ineffective either. He hears a sharp intake of breath, and he’s managed to drag Makoto’s head backwards enough to see his face.

A face that, even in the dim yellow light of the supply room, is flushed darker than usual. And with eyes that are blown wide, the blotted shape of iris-pupils very, very dark against the whites.

It takes a moment for him to put together what that means through the haze, before Makoto’s hands are resituating themselves in Byakuya’s shirt collar, and yanking him down to - kiss him.

He freezes for a moment, mind once again going utterly blank. It’s nothing more than a hard press of lips, almost far too innocent compared to their previous state. Makoto’s lips are warm and slightly chapped, and sliding slightly against his as he smears the blood over his mouth.

It continues for a long moment, the two of them frozen in place, until Byakuya realizes that Makoto was beginning to pull away, his hold loosening; willingly seceding control over, meek again, and anger works its way up in Byakuya’s skull, spiking sharp and precise through the delirium.

He twists his hands, fingers tightening in the locks of Makoto’s hair, and forces him still, bowing his head down to bite at the seam of Makoto’s mouth with all the composure of a starving dog, smearing blood, tongue and teeth snagging in the cracked skin of his lips.

He pulls away just enough to grin, savagely, at the sight of Makoto with a vividly dark slice staining across his mouth. “That is how you kiss someone,” He whispers, with something dark and self-satisfied curling in his gut.

The only response Makoto gives is a low, almost inhuman sound, before he’s being yanked down again.

There’s nothing chaste about it this time. Rather, it’s more like a continuation of their fight, biting, clacking teeth, hands scrabbling and grasping for purchase. Makoto matches his every move with the same exact vigor, and Byakuya tastes salt and hot metal and the over-sweet sourness of energy drinks and laughs into the kiss, breathless and triumphant at Makoto’s desperation, the feeling of hands dragging down his sides, even as he claws back, trying to drag him nearer, nails raking across the thick fabric of his blazer, down his back, over his arms. In turn, Makoto licks into his mouth, tonguing hotly over his canines, the soft roof of his palate.

Disgusting. Byakuya shudders, and lets his jaw slacken just a little more.

He feels his back beginning to slide, uncomfortably, down the frame. It’s both an annoyance and a relief - the previous angle was killing his neck - but then Makoto leans forward, weight pressing against him, sandwiching him there, and digging his spine painfully against the hard juts of the shelves.

Byakuya half-thinks to scold him for that, but at the same time, Makoto is sliding his leg between his thighs, propping him up, and the reprimand turns into a groan instead, breathy and desperate and far too loud in the solitude of the supply room.

He jerks back, suddenly self-aware again, face flushed to burning. This was - he feels his head swimming, self-appalled, rivaling the temptation to sink down a little lower, lean into the hands that are now feeling clumsily up his ribcage - utterly unbecoming of him. To give into such base temptations-

Ever persistent and apparently undeterred by the absence of his mouth, Makoto leans forward and presses his teeth to the side of Byakuya’s neck instead, and the rest of Byakuya’s coherent thoughts try to fly out with those thin, pinprick-sharp flares of pain.

“Idiot,” He still manages to hiss, even as he gives in and grinds down, against a sweet pressure that makes everything feel so - indescribably - “Bastard, you pathetic little-”

Talking was getting troublesome. He presses his hands against Makoto’s cheeks, feeling a small thrill of victory when he feels his thumbs brush the corner of his lips on the first try, and kisses him again, feeling dizzy with it.

His hands shift, seeking out better purchase in Makoto’s hood, knuckles pressing against the warm, jumping muscles in his neck, the other sinking into his hair again. This time more to keep himself upright as Makoto was apparently trying to bite his tongue off - and that thought really shouldn’t be doing anything for Byakuya, and yet -

Tap, tap. Tap.

“Makoto,” He gasps, whines, managing to pull himself away once more. This time grabbing onto Makoto’s face and pushing him backwards like an undisciplined, overeager dog - the other boy struggles for a moment, pushing back against his hands - “Wait, just - calm down, you - do you hear that?”

It takes a moment for Makoto to respond. “Wh-huh?” He manages, somewhat incoherently, which Byakuya…supposes, is reasonable. They’re still pressed against each other, and Byakuya can still feel something pressing against his thigh, which he tries very hard to ignore, in favor of concentrating hard.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

It doesn’t sound like it was coming from the hallways. But it couldn’t be the heating or piping in the walls either; it was too soft, and…too dynamic, too purposeful, for that. He cranes his head over his shoulder, but the only thing behind him was the shelf, some boxes, and the flat, gray expanse of the wall.

Tap. Tap, tap, taptaptap-

The sound rises to a sudden crescendo, speeding behind him. Almost reflexively, he shoves away from the shelf, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Makoto lands on his back with a grunt, and Byakuya lands nearly on top of him, before scrabbling backwards until his back meets the shelf, self-awareness shattering his earlier insanity.

Makoto is staring at him, face still flushed and dazed. “Hey, what was-?”

“Awahwahwah!? Kyahh!!”

They jerk their heads in unison, turning to find a short, round, oblong shape standing in the doorway. Monokuma stands there with face covered by paws, squealing. “C-c-could this be?! The fabled, mythical, super-ultra-sexy-secret-rendezvous I heard about from the headmaster’s handbook?! Wah! My eyes!! My untainted, honest, adorable teddy-button eyes!!!”

“Shut up!” Byakuya snaps, voice far too high-pitched to not be damning, despite his best attempts to calm down. He surreptitiously turns away from the door, and can see Makoto doing something similar out of the corner of his eye, tucking his knees up close to his chest. Monokuma shakes, either from laughter or phony horror.

“Oh, there’s no need to worry, Young Master Byakuya. I’m a very progressive bear, after all!” It nods emphatically, and Byakuya grits his teeth at the derisive use of the title. “After all, I am your headmaster, and I want this place to be all sweet and accepting of all my students! You can talk to your classmates about it at this seminar I’m planning-”

“Get out of here.” Makoto rasps, voice still rough and a little unsteady. He sounds downright furious, more so than Byakuya remembers ever hearing him. “It wasn’t- It wasn’t like that.”

“Oh-ho? T’wasn’t it?” Monokuma tilts its head, and toddles over with squeaky footsteps. “Well then, what did happen? Because it certainly looked to me like I just blue-beared you two!” And it cackles hysterically at its own joke, the sound grating and echoing between the shelves.

“He-” Makoto’s sneakers scrape against the floor as he shifts, hesitating. “He was- trying to…trying to kill me.”

And even through the rising haze of fury, panic, and nauseating shame, Byakuya’s thoughts grind to a sudden halt.

“What?” He says aloud, at the same time as Monokuma squeals with apparent delight, drowning him out entirely.

“Oh, oh! Is that so?” And it rounds on him, all of a sudden far too close for comfort, his vision divided white and black. “Tell me, is this true? What was the weapon? What was the plan? Oh, it’s a shame I interrupted, so now I gotta make up for the lost opportunity! Spill the deets!”

So none of it had meant anything. Their pathetic, awkward fumbling in the dark, his brief delusion of control, had only amounted to this. Back to being humiliated and shamed by a grinning, faceless mastermind, and with no more authority over himself as he did before, as Makoto was trying to save him. Again.

He kicks Monokuma away, sending it spinning with a yelp into one of the shelves, and bolts from the room. Makoto is shouting after him, and soon there are footsteps dogging at his heels, but he makes it all the way back to his bedroom before Makoto catches up to him as he’s trying to unlock the door.

He narrowly makes it inside, tries to swing the door shut but it bounces off of Makoto’s shoe, jammed in just in time - and he’d wince in sympathy, or mull in the dejá vu of it, if he wasn’t currently trying to tamp down his own swell of emotions, nearing to breaking through his thinly held-together composure.

“Why did you say that,” He spits through clenched teeth. Too exhausted to try and force him out, too angry to just ignore him. “Of all the stupid, useless lies to come up with, you had to choose one that made me look even more pathetic?!”

“What were you going to say, then,” Makoto shoots back, just as irritated. “Was there anything more plausible that would’ve been better for you than ‘we were making out in the closet’?!”

He doesn’t bother to reply. Because no, that was the most believable thing Makoto could have said, which was why he was so furious now. There was the logical setting, an established motive - the set-up for a cheap, impassioned crime, with no thought or grace behind it. 

If he had said it himself, he might have barely been able to salvage his own pride. But having to be defended by his own so-called ‘victim’, having to be saved by Makoto again-

He sits down heavily on the bed, rubbing his temples. “Just leave, Makoto.” He sighs, eyes screwed shut. He’s too tired for this, and would rather try and sleep and forget it all. Or break down, which was beginning to feel like a very real possibility, which he’d rather do in the privacy of his own room anyways.

But instead of leaving, Makoto drops down to the floor with a thump, directly in front of him. “I’m not leaving until you go eat something.” He says, stubbornly, apparently recalling his entire original purpose of trying to bully him into codependency.

I was hoping he would’ve forgotten that. Byakuya feels a pulse throb beneath his fingertips, exasperation pushing through the rising fog of panic. “Must we do this now?”

“If I don’t, you’re going to ignore and avoid me and everyone else again, right?” He could almost hear the teasing smile tugging at the corner of Makoto’s mouth. “But, um. I mean. If you don’t want to talk, we could…you know…”

It takes a moment to identify exactly what he’s suggesting, but the disbelieving laugh that escapes Byakuya’s mouth is entirely unintentional, the panic miraculously dissipating in the same breath. “You can’t be serious.”

“I-I mean-! I’m totally okay if you don’t want to, I just thought…” Makoto trails off with a cough. “I…it was kind of a joke. Um- but you were enjoying it too, right?” There’s a thin note of hesitance in his voice.

Byakuya sighs. “...Yes. Unfortunately so.” Enough that if he thinks too much on it, he’ll become aware of the buzzing still lingering in his lips and the feeling of warmth beneath his hands, the low throb in his nose where the bleeding had only just stopped, and there was no good way that particular thought process was going to end. He’d almost prefer the impending anxiety attack to this.

“O-oh, okay. Cool. That’s cool.” Makoto rocks a little bit. “So…”

“I’m not having sex with you right now.” He deadpans, and Makoto has the gall to blush sheepishly, as if he weren’t the one making the suggestion in the first place.

“Right. Yeah, of course.” He scratches his head with a quiet laugh. “We…kinda took it a little fast, huh?”

That was an understatement. And he raises a hand over his face, trying to hide the heat rising beneath his fingers…much of what had happened was mostly due to his own actions. “Well, it’s not like we are in a situation where we could have a normal progression of things.”

“I don’t know, we have a pretty good kitchen. I would’ve liked to make you dinner first, or something.”

“How romantic. Forgive me if the idea of a school cafeteria meal doesn’t sweep me off my feet.”

“You won’t know if you don’t try it. I can make a pretty good omelet on a good day…if you’re okay with that.” The lilting invitation is clear, and Byakuya snorts.

“I should’ve murdered you in front of Monokuma.” He deadpans back.

Now it was Makoto’s turn to chuckle, a soft, surprised ‘ha!’ that makes Byakuya smile wholly inadvertently.

“Yeah, probably,” He agrees. “Did you want to?”

The smile slides off his face instantly. It sounds like Makoto is joking, but - it’s hard to tell. So hard to tell without being able to see if he’s smiling, if the easy tone of his voice matches his face.

“Do you want to?” He asks again, voice softer, serious.

Probably not a joke, then. He laces his fingers tightly, tight enough for his joints to ache, pressing the knuckles to his chin. “It hadn’t…crossed my mind.” Not seriously, at least. And not since the last trial.

But he could. There was no deal to uphold, not anymore. And Makoto - 

“Why are you asking?” He looks up for the first time, at Makoto, sitting cross-legged on his carpet. Staring back at him. “Surely you don’t want to die?”

Makoto doesn’t reply, his face still curiously, infuriatingly blank.

Everything that had been previously cleared comes rushing back, fury and disbelief and - anxiety, of all things, a painful, welling lump of it rising up his gullet - and before he knows it, he’s on the ground, kneeling across from Makoto with his hands around his neck.

The skin is warm. Shockingly soft, slightly tacky with sweat. The pressure isn’t enough to cut off airflow - his hands are only just resting against his throat - but Byakuya flexes his thumbs lightly, feeling the shape of his Adam’s apple beneath his fingers, his pulse beneath his palms.

And the whole time, Makoto makes no move to push him off. He had twitched, maybe, surprised at first, but that was all, now frozen stock-still - no, he was relaxing into the touch, muscles going purposefully slack as his shoulders slump.

“...What are you doing.” He whispers. Tenses his fingers, feels the breath hitch. “I could kill you right now. Why aren’t you stopping me?” Takes a deep, shuddering breath as he feels his voice begin to break. “Don’t tell me you actually want to die here!”

Makoto’s mouth is a dark cavern as he opens it to respond. “I don’t. Of course I don’t.” His voice wheezes slightly. “But if it’s you… I’d rather it be you than anyone else.”

Byakuya feels his hands shake. This was too much, all of it too much - he hadn’t even concluded how he felt about Makoto yet, not coherently - and apparently, in the time he’d spent in self-isolation, something had become twisted. The most mundane person here had become wholly insane. For his sake.

I must be insane too, he thinks, for the tiny, irrational thrill of joy that runs through him at that realization.

He jerks when he feels hands resting over his, fingers tracing delicately over the fine lines of his knuckles, the hollow of his wrist. Keeping his grip steady.

“I don’t think you will, though,” Makoto continues. “You don’t really want to kill anyone. You would’ve done it already if you did.”

“Don’t act like you know me.” He grits, grip spasming, torn between removing himself from Makoto and throttling him to shut him up. “You know perfectly well there’s a difference between intent and capabilities.”

Makoto takes a shaky, raspy breath. A slash of white pulls across his face. “Then are you gonna prove me wrong?”

Byakuya hesitates for too long. In that time, the hands that rest over his pull and then press, and he flinches as his palms fully meet Makoto’s neck, almost icily cool against the clamminess of his own skin. He yanks them backwards like he’d been burned, too shocked to even scold him for - for any of it. Too flustered to wonder if he even could.

His hands shake, still, even when he clenches them into fists with his nails biting into his palms, pressing into his knees.

Makoto coughs once, massaging his neck, before he stands up slowly.

“Let’s go,” He says, still smiling as he offers up a hand. “I’ll make you an omelet.”

< previous - from start - next >

[rosenotactuallyquartz]

im not the anon that asked abt the spicy pearlrose headcannons but i really really want to know so i am taking my own leap of faith :D

here’s twenty of them

sexual content in the read more. nsfw, adult (18+) subject matter, please scroll & dni if not for you.

if i post more stuff like this in the future, you can recognize it with purple text as highlights & headings instead of pink. pink is always sfw.

alright, now that it’s just us, here are twenty headcanons that i’ve had for years.

first, let me make this very clear. with rose, pearl loved being dominant. they’re both switches, and there were times when pearl would be submissive and they both enjoyed it, but rose was a soft dom with others she was intimate with. pearl was the exception where she preferred to be & would naturally be more submissive.

rose loved wearing pink & white, lace & thigh highs. pearl would wear something simple & sexy, silk & always black.

they were always each other’s firsts. fusing, holding hands, i-love-yous, kissing, fucking, orgasms, sleeping next to each other. they were each other’s first everything.

on the topic of their first time. they’ve had a secret little cabin that’s just for the two of them since their early years on earth. you know how they canonically have their secret places. their first time was soft and sweet. they gave each other little gifts. wildflowers for pearl, something knitted for rose. they both blushed & giggled a lot, but it went really well. they said a lot of i love you & i’m so in love with you. they loved the act of literally making love, fucking someone they felt romantic love for, so they always remember the rather beautiful aspects of their first time

once they started, they couldn’t stop. they loved sex & had sex often. the first sexual thing they ever did was pearl sucking on rose’s breasts while she sat on her lap. since it was their first time, pearl always teased rose about how much that turned her on; how much she whimpered and moaned and how wet she was by the end. rose had no idea what was ahead

while their first time was soft & sweet, there was a moment where pearl had rose make eye contact with her as she finished. rose’s face was flushed and pearl asked her later on if she embarrassed her too much. rose said no, went on to say how much she loves pearl’s boldness & teasing

they often intertwined their fingers when they were intimate. holding hands was the first way they shared affection, long before they even knew the words to express their love for each other. this became a natural part of their love as a whole, including their sexual relationship

this was also pearl’s way of forcing rose to be patient. she would be on rose’s lap, kissing her before they fucked, and she would interlace their fingers to prevent rose from touching herself. every time, rose would whimper, and pearl couldn’t help but smile

but also, rose easily made pearl want to touch herself. she felt like a hypocrite when she would take rose’s hand to stop her because the mere sight of some exposed skin would have pearl start touching herself

“who do you belong to?” except in this context, no one would ever ask pearl that question. rose would immediately reply with you, my pearl

i’m sure you can tell by now, but pearl loved teasing rose. then, she would tell her how cute she was for blushing so easily

pearl also gave rose so much praise. (i.e., “good girl,” “so good for me,” “look at you,” or she would gently stroke her breasts or tummy or thighs, three things she absolutely adored about rose, and say how perfect she is. how much she turns her on.)

typically went at a slow & sensual pace. pearl liked taking her time with rose and wanted her to always feel good & loved. although rose loved suddenly being grabbed, especially by the love handles and inner thighs. she also loved grabbing pearl by the waist and pulling her closer to her

pearl’s legs and torso would end up covered in lipstick marks. rose liked marks because she wanted to feel everything, remember everything. she would usually end up with hickies on her inner thighs. a caring & concerned pearl would ask about it later & rose would have an excuse to recount every detail of how incredible pearl was when she went down on her

giving her markings and soft kisses was also pearl’s way of making rose wait before going down on her. and of course, if rose tried to touch herself (as she so often did), pearl would take her hand and hold it tightly.

that being said, pearl was not only a gentle dom but she was also so unabashedly obsessed with rose. could never keep her hands or eyes off of her, so intensely in love with every single part of her body.

as you can imagine, the way that pearl so obviously loved every inch of rose was good for her. with the things that pearl would say & the way that she acted, it pretty much forced rose to fall in love with her own body. pearl became more confident and being dominant was a nice “fuck you” to homeworld dynamics. sex was always a healing and positive aspect of their relationship.

pearl likes being in control. she’s protective, defensive. rose fell in love with her boldness. she sees this side, more than ever, when they’re fucking. there are certain tones and things she says and does—a whole side to her—that only rose knows about. same thing could be said about rose, as pearl has seen a more vulnerable, softer, more submissive side that she didn’t let anyone else see.

really, nothing turned her on more than pleasing rose. seeing rose look up at her with stars in her eyes & flushed cheeks, looking so shocked yet blissful and satisfied & a little shy about it would drive her insane

rose had an incredible submissive voice. soft, sweet. sometimes she would say my pearl. oh, and same with pearl’s voice but for doms, very affectionate and passionate. she would laugh softly a lot which sounded playful & teasing in the best way possible. rose would often ask pearl to simply say certain phrases to her and vice versa

so clearly there was begging; of course there’s begging, ms. please-don’t-ever-stop. (“that’s what i thought”)

pearl spent a lot of time in rose’s room. they would talk about their fantasies & roleplay. (they were into some insane… just remember, “rose saw the beauty in everything.”) and yes, readers, they lived together for thousands of years and had that room where anything that was imagined could appear. i’m sure they tried out whatever (pleasing, not too weird) kink or roleplay is in your head right now.

bondage is something they’ve tried & loved if that hasn’t already been implied enough. sometimes it was part of roleplay; sometimes they would use toys and other times they’d just use their own hands to hold each other down.

you know how fusion is representative of any and all relationships, right? they started off fusing romantically, and they loved doing so. once their relationship became sexual as well, they incorporated a bit of sensuality, sexual attraction, sexual tension. the arousal that they felt when they fused in we need to talk is indescribable.

oh no, was that more than twenty? i don’t really care. this is coming from a very long list.

aftercare + bonus:

when they were done, they would cuddle. pearl loved being the big spoon while rose was the little spoon, despite being so much bigger. pearl loved that fact, really. but they switched a lot.

concerned and caring rose, often asking pearl how she feels. she would also say the sweetest things to her and wholeheartedly mean them.

warm bubble baths

rose would often fall asleep and pearl would wrap her in the pink blanket she knitted for her, playing with her hair, giving her tummy rubs, staying awake to watch her sleep in case she had any nightmares and simply because she was cute when she slept

that’s all. i have so many, but i think this is reasonable for now. i’ll have you know i queued this for a time when i’m away on a trip, so i wouldn’t be as active & i probably won’t notice when i post this. oh, don’t laugh at me! :p i haven’t posted anything like this before, even if you may recognize some of these from my asks and reblogs. if you recognize the mini paragraph nine (“who do you belong to?”) but from another’s anon post, that was the one time i sent an anon ask, okay? leave me alone jkfggkfk. anyway, i hope you’re all having a great weekend. to the five in my inbox who sent their asks a month ago, im so sorry i kept you waiting. 🖤

[sweeteastart]

I love your art!! Could you maybe do Warriors for E2 for the outfit thing?

Y'all really want me to become a puddle huh ? Thank you so much,,, I'm happy people like my silly little things

Someone finally gave me my boy !

He is feeling bonita :)

Thanks for the ask ♪♪♪♪