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areislol · 6 months ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤyandere monster harem

pairings. various m! yandere monsters x gn! reader

warnings. yandere themes, toxic obsession, 18+ dark themes

a/n. i love my sillies!!

wc. 6.1k

imagine a dark, mystical forest where you're the lone human, fated to cross paths with a group of terrifying yet obsessively devoted monsters.

each of them is unique in their appearance and abilities, but they all share one thing: an unrelenting desire to make you theirs, no matter the cost.

the werewolf

a hulking figure with sharp claws, wild amber eyes, and a low growl that vibrates through your very bones. he encountered you when you wandered too close to his den during a full moon. despite his primal instincts, he resisted harming you, instead captivated by your bravery—or foolishness.

he tracks your scent everywhere you go. if you so much as step outside, he’s already following from the shadows, ensuring your safety (and warding off anyone who dares to come near).

he marks your belongings with his scent and doesn’t hesitate to bare his teeth at anyone he deems a threat. you’re his mate, and he’ll challenge anyone who thinks otherwise.

though rough and wild, he becomes uncharacteristically gentle when he sees you hurt or scared, licking your wounds and curling protectively around you.

the werewolf is a wild, untamed force of nature, his obsession with you rooted in instincts so primal he can't suppress them even if he tried.

he watches you from the shadows, always nearby but rarely letting himself be seen at first. your scent drives him to madness—earthy, warm, uniquely you. it's comforting and addictive, and he can't get enough. he's stolen pieces of your life to keep close: a scarf left behind, a mug you drank from, anything that holds your essence.

his possessiveness is terrifying. he won't let anyone else near you if he can help it. if someone gets too close, he intervenes, his voice low and threatening, his golden eyes burning with barely concealed rage. no one dares challenge him; there's something in the way he moves, the way he looms, that screams danger.

he doesn't understand human boundaries. if you're speaking to someone too long, he'll step in, claiming he needs to talk to you or finding some excuse to drag you away. if you protest, he'll growl—not at you, never at you—but in frustration. you're his; why can't everyone else see that?

but with you, he's soft. gentle. when he's sure you're not afraid of him, he'll let you closer, let you see the man beneath the beast. his touch is careful, almost reverent, as if he's afraid he'll break you. when you're upset, he wraps himself around you, his warmth and presence enough to shield you from the world.

his affection shows in small ways. he brings you gifts from the forest: flowers, feathers, shiny rocks he thought you'd like. he watches your reaction closely, his heart swelling with pride when you smile. if you ever thank him, he becomes almost shy, looking away with a faint blush creeping up his neck.

jealousy is his constant battle. if he sees someone making you laugh or smile, his claws dig into his palms. he won't confront you about it, but the person who caused his jealousy might find themselves on the receiving end of his wrath later.

at night, he lingers near your home. the thought of you alone, unprotected, drives him crazy. he paces, his instincts screaming at him to stay close. sometimes, he leaves small signs that he's there—a paw print in the dirt, a tuft of fur snagged on a branch—as if he wants you to know he's watching over you.

his biggest fear is your rejection. he knows he's more beast than man, and the thought of you being afraid of him keeps him awake at night. if you ever flinch or pull away, it shatters him, and he'll retreat, his golden eyes filled with pain. but he always comes back, unable to stay away, his obsession too strong to overcome.

you are his anchor, his reason for fighting the beast within. he doesn't care what it takes; he'll keep you safe, even if it means keeping you all to himself. his love is overwhelming, suffocating, but he doesn't see it that way. to him, it's devotion—pure, unbreakable, eternal.

his growl rumbled low as kael draegon stepped from the shadows, his golden eyes fixed on you with that same wild, desperate intensity.

"don't be afraid," kael draegon whispered, his voice rough but steady as he offered you his hand. the cold breeze tugged at his hair as he stood beside you, his voice soft as he murmured, "you're safe now, with me."

kael draegon always seemed to appear just when you needed him, his presence both calming and terrifying. his hand lingered on your shoulder for just a moment before kael draegon pulled back, his voice almost apologetic. "old instincts, i'm sorry."

the vampire

elegant and poised, with glowing crimson eyes and a voice like silk, the vampire first saw you in the dead of night. he was drawn to the purity of your blood but became enthralled by the purity of your soul instead.

his pale, marble-like skin seems to glow faintly in the moonlight, untouched by time or imperfection. his crimson eyes burn with a smouldering intensity, framed by thick lashes that only add to his magnetic gaze.

his raven-black hair falls in soft, silky waves around his sharp cheekbones, perfectly complementing his aristocratic features. his tall, slender frame moves with a predatory grace, and his voice—smooth as velvet—wraps around you like a dark lullaby.

he loves to watch you sleep, marvelling at your vulnerability. He’ll slip into your room at night, not to harm you, but to leave gifts—a rose, a letter, or even a piece of jewellery from an unknown era.

the vampire despises anyone who captures your attention. Friends, family, or even strangers—they’re nothing but distractions. He may use his hypnotic gaze to erase their presence from your life.

he gets flustered when you show him kindness, like bandaging a wound he sustained in your defence. he tries to hide his blush, but his pale complexion betrays him.

the vampire is as elegant as he is dangerous, his presence suffocating yet alluring, like the pull of a siren's song on a lonely traveler at sea. his crimson eyes gleam in the dark, reflecting centuries of wisdom and hunger, but when he looks at you, they’re soft, desperate, and entirely devoted. you’re his obsession, his muse, his reason to exist in a world that has grown cold and lonely with age.

he first saw you during one of his midnight wanderings, his attention drawn by your scent, a sweet, intoxicating mix of vulnerability and warmth. you were an easy target at first—a stranger out on a walk, unassuming, untouched by the weight of the supernatural world. but then he watched you, from the shadows, and the hunger in him shifted. you weren’t just food, not in the way he expected. you were you.

his obsession grew quickly, a slow, crawling thing that nestled in his bones. he has a habit of appearing when you least expect it: slipping through your window as you sleep, standing at the end of a dark alley when you’re walking home, always close but never intrusive enough to harm you. he studies you with endless fascination, watching how you move, how you smile, how you react to the smallest moments of life. you are his everything.

he is a master manipulator, charming and patient, with a voice like silk and words that dance between honeyed promises and half-truths. he always knows just what to say, always seems to be exactly where you are, making sure you feel safe.

but beneath the charm is something ancient, something sharp—a predator who has learned how to play the long game to get what he wants. you are his, and he has all the time in the world to make sure you know it.

his jealousy is sharp and swift. the moment another person shows even the slightest interest in you, his eyes narrow, his smile turns colder. it doesn’t take much for him to make his presence known, weaving himself into your life, into your conversations, until the other person is left with nothing but fear or confusion. you are his, and he’ll ensure that no one else tries to stake their claim.

he doesn’t simply show his obsession through manipulation. he is far more intimate, far more human in the moments where he can let his guard down. he’ll leave you gifts—roses with petals as red as blood, antique trinkets from his many years of wandering, or old letters written in his perfect, flowing script.

he tries to convey his feelings subtly, his words wrapped in metaphors and promises, but they always come from the deepest part of his heart.

he’s possessive in the way only a centuries-old predator can be. he touches you often, with a hand to your cheek, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, or lightly grazing your hand as if you might slip away at any moment.

he isn’t violent, not by nature, but his love is all-encompassing, wrapping itself around you like a snake squeezing its prey. you belong to him in every way, and he has no intention of letting you slip out of his grasp.

his dark powers allow him to watch you from afar, slipping into your dreams, invading the quiet moments of your subconscious. you’ll wake with his voice lingering in your mind, his whispers promises of eternity, of a life spent with him, of safety, beauty, and endless nights. he wants you to rely on him, to lean into his presence, to crave his touch, until you can’t imagine your life without him.

when you show kindness or affection toward him, his calm, elegant mask slips. his eyes soften, his voice trembles slightly, and he finds himself speechless.

he’s terrified of showing too much, of letting you see the raw hunger that lies beneath his smooth exterior, but he can’t stop himself. your smile, your laughter, it means everything to him, more than centuries of darkness and isolation ever could.

he would give you everything. his life, his immortality, his heart. but he struggles with the weight of his own nature—the bloodlust that lies just beneath his perfect, pale skin. he’s not just obsessed with you out of a need to control or dominate; he truly cares. he wants you safe, protected, happy. but his fear of losing you makes him cruel, calculating, and relentless.

you are his forever, and he has no intention of sharing you with anyone else, not with the world, not with time, not with destiny itself. his love is suffocating, but it is eternal, and as much as it terrifies him, he knows you’ll never escape his grasp. he’ll make sure of it.

his voice was like silk as dorian vale leaned against the window frame, his crimson eyes glinting in the moonlight

"you shouldn't be out here alone," dorian vale said smoothly, stepping closer, his voice as soft as a whisper. dorian vale’s gaze was piercing, unyielding, and you could feel every moment of his attention as he looked at you

he handed you a single red rose, his pale fingers delicate as he said, "for you, my dear.

his presence lingered, and you could feel dorian vale’s words in your bones as he whispered, "you were always meant to be mine."

the ghost

a shadowy figure with hollow eyes that glow faintly in the dark, the ghost is a tragic soul who found solace in your warmth. his attachment to you began when you unknowingly lingered in the house he haunts, speaking softly to the empty air as if sensing his presence.

alaric’s form is translucent, a faint, glowing silhouette that shifts and flickers like mist. his features are soft and hauntingly beautiful, with a melancholy that clings to him like a shadow.

his once-vivid eyes are now pale, like the reflection of a full moon in still water, and his long hair drifts around him as if caught in a gentle breeze. though incorporeal, he retains the faint shape of his elegant hands and tall, lean frame, an echo of the man he once was.

his presence feels like a cool touch on your skin, a constant, bittersweet reminder of his undying devotion.

he manipulates the environment to keep you close—doors creak shut when you try to leave, and objects mysteriously disappear, only to reappear where he wants you to stay.

if anyone hurts you, the ghost unleashes his wrath. lights flicker, temperatures drop, and your assailants are haunted until they’re too terrified to approach you again.

he’s deeply moved when you acknowledge him, even if it’s just a whisper to the air. your willingness to accept him, despite his incorporeal nature, solidifies his eternal devotion.

the ghost is a tragic, ethereal figure, bound to you by a love that death itself couldn’t sever. his form is translucent, shimmering faintly in the moonlight, and though he may no longer have a heartbeat, his emotions are as raw and overwhelming as they were in life. he exists in the liminal space between the living and the dead, obsessed with you in a way that is both haunting and heartbreakingly tender.

he doesn’t remember how or when it started—only that one day, he found himself drawn to you, unable to leave your side. whether it was your voice, your laughter, or the way you brought life to even the smallest, most mundane moments, you became his light in the suffocating darkness of his afterlife. he watches you from the corners of rooms, a faint chill in the air marking his presence, his spectral form always lingering just out of reach.

his love is quiet, but all-consuming. he whispers your name into the night when you sleep, his voice carried on the softest breeze. he rearranges small things in your home to make his presence known: a book left open to a meaningful passage, a flower you swore wasn’t there before resting on your windowsill. at first, it’s subtle—gentle signs that you’re never truly alone—but as his obsession deepens, the signs become harder to ignore.

jealousy eats away at him when others capture your attention. he can’t bear the thought of you being close to anyone else, of you laughing or smiling with someone who isn’t him. when you’re out, he follows you like a shadow, unseen but ever-present, and if someone gets too close, the air turns cold, the lights flicker, and an unshakable unease settles over them until they leave.

he craves your touch, but his incorporeal form makes it impossible. this frustrates him endlessly, and he spends nights lingering near you, reaching out as if he could somehow feel the warmth of your skin, the beat of your heart. his desperation leads him to try anything to bridge the gap between life and death, no matter the cost.

despite his possessiveness, he’s deeply protective. he uses his abilities to shield you from harm, warding off danger with an almost primal ferocity. if someone threatens you, they’ll find themselves plagued by unexplainable misfortunes—objects falling, shadows moving, and an unrelenting sense of being watched. he doesn’t harm them directly, but his presence is enough to terrify even the boldest.

when he speaks to you, it’s with a voice like the echo of a forgotten melody, soft and tinged with sorrow. he tells you things you shouldn’t know—secrets from your past, glimpses of your future, things only someone who’s been watching you so intimately could know. he wants you to feel his devotion, his undying love, even if it frightens you.

there’s a tragic loneliness to him. he knows he can never truly be with you, not in the way he desires, and this realization drives him to the edge of despair. his love is obsessive, yes, but it’s also painfully pure—an eternal yearning for a connection he can never fully have.

if you acknowledge him, his devotion only deepens. the smallest smile, a whispered “thank you” into the empty room, is enough to make his entire existence worthwhile. he clings to these moments, replaying them endlessly in his mind, as they are his only solace in an eternity of longing.

he follows you everywhere, unseen but ever-present, his translucent form flickering in the corner of your eye or casting a fleeting shadow against the wall. at first, his presence is subtle, almost unnoticeable: the faint creak of floorboards when no one else is home, a cold breeze brushing against your skin, the lingering feeling that someone is watching you. but as his obsession deepens, his presence grows stronger, more impossible to ignore.

he learns everything about you. the way you hum absentmindedly when you’re focused, the scent of your favorite tea, the books you read late into the night. he listens to the sound of your heartbeat as you sleep, a steady rhythm that lulls him into a state of peace he hasn’t felt since he was alive. he treasures these moments, hoarding every detail about you like precious relics of a life he can never fully be part of.

his jealousy is a storm that rages within him. when others come into your life, his calm demeanor shatters. he can’t bear the thought of you sharing your smiles, your laughter, or your attention with anyone else. the air around you grows colder when someone he deems a threat is near, and they often find themselves inexplicably uneasy in your presence. lights flicker, objects fall, and whispers echo in the corners of the room, driving them away with a fear they can’t explain.

but with you, he is soft, almost fragile. he speaks to you in whispers, his voice carrying the faint echo of a forgotten melody, full of longing and sorrow. "don’t be afraid," he murmurs into the quiet of the night. "i’ll always protect you." his words are laced with an aching devotion, a promise to guard you from harm, even if you don’t fully understand where the comfort is coming from.

he leaves you gifts, though he has no tangible hands to place them. a single white flower on your windowsill that wasn’t there the night before, an old, weathered book that appeared on your desk, or a faint message written in the condensation on your mirror. they’re tokens of his affection, his way of reminding you that you’re not alone, even when he can’t be seen.

despite his protectiveness, he’s painfully aware of his limitations. his incorporeal form frustrates him to no end—he longs to touch you, to hold you, to feel the warmth of your hand in his, but the barrier between life and death is unyielding. he spends countless hours watching you, reaching out with ghostly fingers that pass through you, yearning for a connection he can never truly have.

he’s haunted by the memory of what it felt like to be alive, to love and be loved in return. his obsession with you is his only solace in a world of emptiness, but it also drives him to desperation. he begins searching for ways to bridge the gap between your worlds, delving into the supernatural, seeking answers, rituals, or bargains that might bring him closer to you.

when you acknowledge him, even in the smallest ways, it’s everything to him. a whispered “thank you” when you notice the flower he left, a hesitant glance toward the flickering light he caused—it fills him with a joy so profound it nearly breaks him. he clings to these moments, replaying them endlessly in his mind, as they are the only proof that he still exists to you.

his love is all-consuming, a desperate and eternal yearning that leaves no room for anything else. he doesn’t just want to protect you; he wants to be with you, to share in your life, to have a place in your heart. he knows his love is overwhelming, even suffocating, but he can’t stop. you’re his reason for lingering in this world, the one thing that makes his cursed existence bearable.

in his more vulnerable moments, he confesses his feelings, his voice trembling with a sorrow that spans lifetimes. "i’m sorry," he whispers, his spectral form flickering like a dying flame. "i didn’t mean for this to happen. but i can’t let go. i won’t." his words are both a plea and a promise, a declaration of a love that will haunt you forever.

his devotion is eternal, unyielding, and consuming. he doesn’t see his obsession as wrong; to him, it’s the purest form of love, a connection that transcends life and death. and though his presence may sometimes frighten you, you can’t deny the strange comfort it brings, the knowledge that someone—something—is always watching over you. he is yours, now and forever, and nothing, not even death, will change that.

you are his reason for lingering in this world, his obsession, his eternity.

alaric drifts soundlessly through the walls, his form a faint shimmer of light that barely disturbs the air

"you called for me," he whispers, his voice like the rustle of leaves on a quiet night. he hovers just out of reach, his longing evident in the way he watches you with those hollow, mournful eyes

every creak of the floorboards, every cool breeze brushing your skin—it’s alaric, a constant, invisible guardian, desperate for you to feel his presence.

the demon

with horns curling from his head, molten eyes, and a smirk that could tempt even the purest soul, the demon is as charming as he is dangerous. he first appeared to you when you were at your lowest, offering power and protection—but only if you stayed by his side.

azrael is striking in his infernal elegance, his beauty sharp and dangerous like a blade. his obsidian horns curl menacingly from his head, gleaming faintly in the firelight, and his jet-black hair is cropped just enough to frame his angular face.

his glowing amber eyes burn with an intensity that’s both mesmerizing and terrifying, framed by dark lashes that soften their predatory edge. his physique is perfectly sculpted, with broad shoulders and sinewy muscle wrapped in dark tattoos that pulse faintly with infernal energy.

a long, spaded tail flicks behind him, a subtle testament to his demonic nature, while his sharp, claw-like fingers could destroy—or cradle.

he infiltrates your dreams, filling them with his voice and his image so that you can never forget him. no matter how far you try to run, he’s always there, whispering promises of eternal love.

the demon doesn’t share. he’ll make deals or threats to ensure no one else dares approach you. his flames flare dangerously when he senses competition.

when you challenge his overbearing nature, he’s secretly thrilled. Your fiery defiance makes him want you even more. but when you show fear or sadness, he’s quick to reassure you with surprising tenderness.

the demon is a dangerous enigma, a being forged in fire and darkness who is utterly captivated by you. his obsession burns hotter than the flames of his infernal home, an all-consuming desire that transcends mortal understanding.

he’s not a creature of softness or restraint—his love is raw, primal, and possessive, and he would raze the world to ash if it meant keeping you by his side.

he first noticed you in a moment of vulnerability, a flicker of something pure and radiant that pierced through his otherwise unrelenting darkness. maybe it was your kindness, your resilience, or even your imperfections—whatever it was, it stirred something in him he hadn’t felt in centuries.

for a demon who thrives on power and domination, this feeling was alien, unsettling, and exhilarating.

at first, he tried to ignore it. love, after all, is a weakness—a chain that binds. but the more he watched you, the deeper he sank. you consumed his thoughts, invaded his dreams, and stirred emotions he didn’t even know he was capable of. the line between fascination and obsession blurred, and before long, you became the center of his world, his greatest desire and his ultimate possession.

his presence is overwhelming, even when he isn’t visible. the air grows heavy when he’s near, crackling with an unnatural energy that makes your skin tingle. shadows twist and writhe in the corners of your vision, and faint whispers echo in your mind, promises of devotion spoken in a voice as smooth as velvet.

he’s not above manipulating your emotions to keep you close. he knows exactly how to twist words, how to play on your fears and insecurities, all while making it seem like he’s your only sanctuary. "no one will love you the way i do," he purrs, his voice a blend of seduction and menace. "no one will protect you like i can."

jealousy consumes him with a ferocity that borders on madness. he doesn’t tolerate anyone vying for your attention or affection. if someone dares to come too close, they often meet with mysterious misfortunes—car accidents, sudden illnesses, or even inexplicable disappearances. he doesn’t see these acts as cruel; in his mind, he’s simply ensuring that no one can take you from him.

despite his darkness, his love for you is genuine in its own twisted way. he’s incapable of expressing it in soft or traditional ways, but his devotion is absolute.

he treasures every interaction with you, every fleeting smile, every word you speak to him. he hoards these moments like a dragon hoards gold, replaying them endlessly in his mind.

he’s endlessly fascinated by your humanity—the way your emotions shift like the tides, the fragility of your body, the warmth of your skin. he often marvels at how delicate you are compared to him, a creature of immense power and near-immortality. this contrast only deepens his obsession; you’re a treasure, a rare and precious thing in a world of chaos and darkness.

when he does reveal himself to you, it’s always dramatic and intentional. he thrives on your reactions, whether it’s fear, awe, or even anger. he’ll step out from the shadows, his horns catching the dim light, his dark eyes glowing with an otherworldly intensity. "you belong to me," he’ll say, his voice leaving no room for argument. it’s not a question, not a plea—it’s a declaration, an unshakable truth in his mind.

he uses his demonic powers to bind himself to you in ways both subtle and overt. you might find strange symbols etched into the corners of your room, or feel an inexplicable pull toward him that you can’t resist. he’s always there, in your dreams, in your thoughts, in the very fabric of your reality.

but for all his power and confidence, there’s a vulnerability beneath his fiery exterior. he’s terrified of losing you, of you rejecting him or finding someone else.

it’s a fear he doesn’t understand, one that gnaws at him and drives him to even greater extremes. he’ll do anything to keep you, even if it means breaking every rule, defying the laws of heaven and hell, and binding your soul to his for eternity.

in his own way, he tries to be gentle with you. he knows his nature frightens you, that his obsession can be overwhelming, so he tempers his intensity—at least, as much as a demon is capable of. he’ll appear to you in dreams, his voice soft, his touch feather-light, weaving fantasies of a life where you’re his and his alone.

but make no mistake—his love is as dangerous as it is consuming. he doesn’t see you as a partner, but as something to be claimed, protected, and possessed. you’re his light in the darkness, his one weakness, and he would destroy anyone—or anything—that threatens to take you from him.

"i’ll burn this world to the ground for you," he tells you, his voice a low growl, his eyes glowing with an intensity that’s equal parts terrifying and mesmerizing. "just say the word."

to him, you’re not just his obsession—you’re his salvation, the one thing that makes his existence bearable. his love is eternal, fierce, and utterly inescapable, binding you to him in ways you might never fully understand. you are his everything, and he will stop at nothing to make sure you remain his. forever.

azrael appears in a flicker of shadows and embers, his smirk sharp enough to cut

"did you miss me?" he purrs, his voice dripping with sinful charm. his burning gaze never leaves yours, an intensity that feels like it could consume your very soul

when he steps closer, the scent of smoke and spice fills the air, and the room grows impossibly warm

"you can’t escape me, little one," he murmurs, his words a promise and a threat all at once.

the sea monster

a towering creature with scales that shimmer in the moonlight and eyes as deep as the ocean, the sea monster saved you from drowning during a storm. since then, he’s watched you from the water’s edge, longing to pull you into his world.

his body a perfect blend of human and sea creature. his skin shimmers with an iridescent sheen, scales glinting faintly with hues of green, blue, and silver that shift like sunlight on water. his long, flowing hair resembles seaweed, dark and sleek, cascading down his back in waves.

his eyes glow faintly, like bioluminescent creatures of the deep, their piercing intensity revealing his ancient power. his hands are webbed and tipped with sharp, claw-like nails, and his muscular frame is marked with jagged scars from battles in the ocean’s depths. his lower half bears fins that ripple with movement, giving him a grace that belies his massive size.

he collects things you’ve touched—seashells, pieces of cloth, even footprints in the sand. his underwater lair is filled with these treasures, each arranged like a shrine.

he hates when you leave the shore. If you venture too far inland, he’ll create storms or tidal waves to draw you back to him.

he becomes surprisingly bashful when you willingly approach the water to speak to him. your trust in him, despite his monstrous appearance, makes his heart swell.

the sea monster is an ancient being, born of the ocean’s depths, where sunlight never reaches. his obsession with you is as vast and unfathomable as the waters he calls home—a love born of isolation, mystery, and an insatiable hunger for connection. to him, you are his beacon, a rare and precious light in the endless darkness of his world, and he is utterly captivated by you.

his first encounter with you was serendipitous—a chance meeting by the shore, or perhaps a daring moment when you ventured too close to the water’s edge. he saw you, a fragile creature of the land, and was instantly enthralled.

your movements, your laughter, even the way the sunlight caught in your hair—all of it was alien and beautiful to him. from that moment, you became his fixation, his reason to rise from the depths.

he watches you from the water, his massive form concealed beneath the waves, his glowing eyes ever watchful. at first, his presence is subtle—the gentle lapping of waves against the shore, the inexplicable pull of the tide whenever you’re near.

but as his obsession deepens, his signs become harder to ignore. strange treasures wash ashore: seashells, polished stones, and other trinkets that seem too deliberately placed to be coincidences.

he is a creature of contradictions. his love for you is as tender as it is overwhelming, and while he longs to be near you, he’s painfully aware of his monstrous appearance. his body is a fusion of scales, fins, and sinewy muscle, a form designed to survive in the crushing pressure of the deep sea. he fears your rejection, that you will see him as a monster rather than the devoted being he has become.

despite this, he can’t help but draw closer. when you venture into the water, he’s there, just beneath the surface, his presence a dark shadow that follows you. he revels in these moments, the closeness, the illusion that he’s part of your world. the saltwater clings to your skin, and it drives him mad with desire—it’s as though the ocean itself is marking you as his.

his jealousy is as fierce as a storm at sea. anyone who dares to draw too near to you risks his wrath. fishermen speak of sudden squalls that rise from nowhere, boats overturned by unseen forces, and sailors vanishing into the depths. he doesn’t see it as cruelty; to him, it’s protection. the ocean is his domain, and no one else has the right to take what belongs to him.

he dreams of pulling you into his world, of making you his in every way. the thought of you joining him beneath the waves consumes him, and he begins to weave fantasies of a life together in the depths—a palace of coral and bioluminescent light, where you would be his queen, his eternal companion.

but he knows it’s impossible, and this knowledge torments him. he can’t survive on land for long, and you can’t live beneath the water. this barrier between your worlds drives him to desperation. he begins seeking forbidden rituals and ancient magic, anything that might allow him to bridge the gap and bring you into his realm—or transform himself into something that can walk beside you on the shore.

when he speaks, his voice is a low, resonant rumble, like the distant crash of waves on a rocky shore. his words are filled with longing and reverence, a declaration of a love that spans the vastness of the ocean. "you are my light," he murmurs, his glowing eyes fixed on you. "without you, i am nothing but the endless dark."

his love is consuming, a tidal wave that sweeps away everything in its path. he doesn’t understand restraint or boundaries; to him, love is absolute, and his devotion to you is all-encompassing. he sees your hesitations, your fears, but he can’t stop himself. you are the first thing in centuries to stir his cold, ancient heart, and he will not let you go.

when you acknowledge his presence, even in the smallest ways—a whispered word to the sea, a touch to one of the treasures he’s left for you—his heart swells with a joy so profound it’s almost painful. he clings to these moments, replaying them in his mind during the long hours when he’s alone in the depths, waiting for the chance to see you again.

his protectiveness is as fierce as his love. the ocean itself seems to bend to his will, rising to shield you from harm. storms part in your wake, currents carry you safely to shore, and even the most fearsome predators of the deep seem to bow before you. you are his everything, and he will guard you with a ferocity that defies nature itself.

but there’s a darkness to his love, a possessiveness that borders on madness. he doesn’t just want you to love him; he wants you to need him, to see him as the only one who can protect and cherish you. "the land will never understand you as i do," he tells you, his voice a low growl, the waves crashing behind him. "they will never love you as i do."

his obsession is eternal, as deep and unyielding as the ocean itself. you are his heart, his treasure, his reason for rising to the surface. and though his love may be overwhelming, even frightening, there’s a strange beauty in it—a devotion so pure and unshakable that it defies the boundaries of worlds. you are his, now and always, and he will never let the tide carry you away.

mio watches from the waves, his body a dark silhouette against the moonlit water. when you finally meet his gaze, he speaks your name like it’s a prayer, his voice low and reverent

"you don’t belong to the land," he says, his tone both pleading and possessive. "the ocean calls to you. i call to you.

his fingers trail through the water, creating ripples that mirror the emotions surging in his chest—desire, devotion, and an unshakable determination to make you his.

while each monster is fiercely possessive, they begrudgingly tolerate each other’s presence because they all agree on one thing: your happiness comes first.

you’re not just a human to them—you’re their everything. whether you accept their twisted love or try to escape, one thing is certain: they’ll never let you go. you’ve awakened something primal and eternal in their hearts, and no force on earth or beyond could sever the bonds they’ve forged with you.

#yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster x reader #vampire x reader #werewolf x reader #ghost x reader #demon x reader #sea monster x reader

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chevroletdean · 2 months ago

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Stamina

PAIRING: Soldier Boy/Ben x Fem!Reader GENRE: Smut (18+ CONTENT) TO NOTE/WARNINGS: PWP, petnames, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it), multiple orgasms, multiple creampies, overstimulation, not betaread WORD COUNT: 777 (make a wish) PROMPT: 6) marathon session (they just fucking keep going, babyyyy) A/N: This was an anonymous request. Someone wanted either prompt 6 or 17 with either Dean, Soldier Boy, or Beau. You can find prompt 17 + Soldier Boy here! I won't be accepting new requests for the nsfw prompt list because I have enough to work through lmao. I'm so slow with these aaaa, sorry OTL CREDIT & LINKS: Dividers by cafekitsune ─〃★ Soldier Boy gifs ─〃★ Join the taglist ─〃★ Soldier Boy Masterlist

The first time it happened you thought it was hot, maybe a little funny—in the best way possible.

And it was, his greed and how insatiable he was. Except you could barely keep up with him. You weren’t sure just how much more of this marathon you could take.

You, absolutely wrecked beneath Ben, your skin flushed and red and hot, and your lungs aching as you gasped for air. Him, perfectly fine. Because of course Ben didn’t even break a sweat. His breathing was only slightly ragged, voice husky as he whispered filthy nothings into your ear.

You were still recovering from another one of your earth-shattering orgasms, your walls still pulsating around his dick. You’d lost count of how many times he made you cum—or if you even had another one in you.

Much unlike Ben, who was still hungry for more. Even though he had just painted your insides white, he was still throbbing. Still hard.

Still eager for more.

Ben’s iron grip on you didn’t falter. In fact, he pulled you even closer and pushed impossibly deeper, until his tip practically bullied your tender cervix. A soft half-squeal-half-chuckle escaped your kiss-swollen lips.

“Easy,” you huffed, breathlessly, but with a smirk on your lips.

“Not a chance, babydoll,” Ben grinned. “’m not halfway done with you.”

Your protest died on your tongue the moment he pulled out and slammed back into you.

Sensitive as you were, your back arched. The lewd squelching noise caused the blush on your cheeks to darken tenfold. You could feel it dripping from you, his warm seed mixed with your own essence, the fluids creating a slick ring around his cock.

“Ben!,” you giggled, your sweaty hands desperately searching for an anchor in his shoulders.

“I could do this all day,” he shrugged and pushed back into you and fuck if that didn’t do it for you.

Curse him and his superpowers. It was so unfair how you were all worn out and tired while he seemed to find fuel in ruining you. Damn supes and their stamina.

“S-slow down at least?,” you whined, twitching and squirming under his hungry touch.

“Oh, sweetheart, I don’t do slow.” As if to emphasize, he punctuated his sentence with yet another snap of his hips against yours. It earned him that sweet blend of a moan and a sob from you, one that spurred him to repeat the movement.

His pace was relentless as it was during the first round, barely leaving you a chance to catch your breath. Each hiccup and moan was swallowed by his mouth on yours, his kisses just as demanding as his thrusts.

“Don’t worry, dollface,” Ben whispered against your lips, with that intoxicating rasp of his, his chest rumbling and pushed tightly against yours. His tongue trailed down your jawline, licking across the slope of your neck, nibbling along your collarbone.

You threw your head back into the pillows, sinking into the silk underneath your tender body. Ben pushed you deeper into the mattress with each roll of his hips. Your thighs were trembling around his waist, but his large hands kept them pressed neatly against his skin.

“All you gotta do—” Thrust. “’s lay back—” Thrust. The inside of your thighs were messy and wet, your juices leaking onto the sheets beneath you. “And lemme make you feel good.”

Unable to respond, you could only give a weak nod. It earned you a soothing kiss to your temple, an affectionate gesture in the middle of his relentless claiming.

“Atta girl,” he hummed, pleased. “Taking me so well.”

And you did.

Every inch of him, every drop, all he had to offer. You swore you nearly blacked out when his movement stilled and he spilled a second load into your sopping heat. He talked you through it, though the words barely registered.

“Gonna pump you so full, you’ll be leaking.”

“Give me one more, babydoll, that’s it.”

“So fuckin’ tight, ‘s like you were made f’me.”

His promises and praises blended together, fogging up your mind until everything of you was literally filled with everything of him. His warmth, his voice, his scent, his cum—you fell apart under him again, body shivering in his embrace.

Ben gave you a moment to calm down, his cock still nestled deep inside of you. Still throbbing. Still hard. And you knew he wasn’t halfway done with you. By far.

“Think you can take another one?,” he grinned, proud and still hungry.

Clenching around him at the mere idea, you bit your lower lip and nodded. “Please…,” you whimpered softly and Christ on a cross, your wish was his demand.

Soldier Boy (Ben) Taglist:

@alwaysdaydreamingoffiction @ambiguous-avery @angelicjackles @bejeweledinterludes @blueschevy

@deanswifeyy @foxyjwls007 @ifritpng @jackles010378 @jollyhunter

@justwhisperingfantasies @kamisobsessed @ladykitana90 @lunaleah @mahi-wayy

@multiversefanfics @slut4axkles @supernotnatural2005

Want to be added to the taglist? Fill out this >FORM< Want to be removed from the taglist? Send a DM Not sure if you're on the taglist? Check here

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy smut #soldier boy x you #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x female reader #the boys x reader #the boys fanfiction #the boys smut #soldier boy #smutsc #chevroletdean writes

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msfantasy-comics · 14 days ago

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Head Returned [18+]

Batboys x Reader

Summary: The boys want to return the favour after you gave them head

Warning: Descriptions of returning the favour through cunnilingus

Part 2

Bruce Wanyne

When you have been with your partner for years, you will naturally develop a choreography to a song only you two can hear.

No words are spoken when you lift your head from your husbands lap. His fist unwrapping its grip from the bedsheets.

Your body already shifting to lay on your back, as Bruce’s senses shift back to reality. His brain swimming in a river of endorphins. His own body sitting up and twisting into your own as he shifts down the bed, his hands gliding a long your body like a man marvelling at a woman’s body, like he hasn’t many time before.

His head begins to dip between your thighs still parting, with light kisses down your legs to your centre.

You wait in bated breath, waiting on your reward for your earlier endeavours.

And just when you thought you couldn’t take a second longer, Bruce’s tongue roughly dives between your folds, from bottom to top, savouring the essence, enjoying the knowledge that your body was merely reacting to his.

Your back arches up in that erotic way you do when he pleases you.

His mouth locked between your legs as his tongue delivers an eye crossing, toe curling worth performance.

Dick Grayson

You swallow with a victorious smile as you sit back in your kneeling position. Enjoying the view of your out of breath fiancé who had a mixture of strain and bliss, painting along his face.

His chest continues to heave as he sucks in deep breaths as if he sprinted for hours without stopping.

“Uh— so good.” He mutters, seemingly unable to comprehend life. “Come mere’” he lazily gestures to his face.

“What?” You ask simply, unable to comprehend how you could possibly sit on your fiancé’s face considering his current state.

“Here. Now.” He gestures again, not even lifting his head from the couch.

“Di—“

“Come sit on my face right now or else.” He says with a serious warning.

You feel inclined to refuse just to see what ‘or else’ means, but you let your ovulation get the best of you, and you were stripped and sitting before you even knew what you were doing.

His tongue licking, lapping, sucking, flicking away. Your uncontrolled moans being pulled from your throat as you grind down into his face.

His arms anchoring your thighs down. Not daring to let you move away.

Jason Todd

“Told ya’ I give the best head— brings men to tears.” You brag, whipping a stray tear clinging to the outer corner of his eye. Like it was your trophy when you triumphantly present him the evidence, which he just bats away.

“Two can play at this.” He hisses, pulling you up onto his lap, his mouth connect with yours as his roughly kissed you. His hands fumbling for your top to be pulled down to expose your chest, his finger pinching and pulling at the peaks as you whine and whimper, leaning into his touch more. “You’re gonna get it now.” He teases, pushing you harshly onto your back as he shucks your bottoms down your legs along with your panties.

It all happened so fast, you didn’t even have time to blink as his finger slides up and down your already wet crease, coaxing for more of your wetness.

“Bet I could bring you to tears too.” He mocks, but you just smile dismissively.

“Go ahead and try.” And at your taunt, his finger sinks into your clenching core as you gasp in pleasure. His single digit bent at the perfect angle as he continues to plunge in and out at a steady pace.

Your hips weaving involuntarily, chasing for more.

So he sticks two fingers in, “Y-yeah! J-just like that.” You gasp again, your hips rocking to the motion of his fingers pummelling your cunt. “Oh!”

You whine, at the sudden intrusion of his tongue rounding circles around your throbbing clit.

His tongue working on you externally as his finger continue to pick up pace, plunging in and out of your box.

Words failed you.

All you could manage to do was coo and writhe, thighs quivering and shaking. Enjoying the onslaught of pleasure being delivered until it happened faster than you could realise.

Heat seeps down your thighs as you cunt begins to clench so tight, you think it’ll force his fingers out, his mouth no daring to be pulled away as the rapid knot in your stomach snaps and your cumming so quickly and so hard, your eye sight becomes dazed, specs and spots flicking in your vision like a starry knight sky.

The pleasure was overwhelming as a tear falls from the creases.

Tim Drake

“It’s almost 1pm Mr. Drake-Wayne, and you’ve still not eaten your lunch yet.” You look up from your tablet, expecting some sort of response, but Tim just continued to sit at his office desk with that far away look he’s had all day. “Sir— are you feeling alright?” You ask, taking quick strides forward, placing the back of your hand against his forehead only for him to pull away quickly.

“D-don’t!” He says quickly, grabbing your outstretched wrists, with flushed cheeks.

“Sir?” Your concerned tone pulling through.

“I… I can’t stop thinking about this morning.” He says, looking up at you with that tortured look.

It wasn’t until you casted your eyes downward that you noticed the tent in his pants.

“Do you need to be taken care of again sir?” You ask, going to reach down again, only for his hold on your wrist to tighten.

“I-I don’t want it to just be about me…” He says shyly, the tips of his ears turning red.

“But you clearly, need help right now so I—“

“You know— it’s hard being a man, when we’re aroused, it’s so obvious.” Palming his crotch, your eyes remain locked. “But you—you look unaffected.” He swallows, eyes locked on you like a starved predator. “I want to hear you, see you fall apart.” He says, now pulling your figure in front of him, pushing you back until your ass touches his hard oak office desk. His nimble fingers already hiking you skirt up. “Just a taste.” His false promises falling past his lips like that of a man who promises he’ll only drink a sip when being stuck in a hot dessert for days without water.

Your knees part and expose your wet panties, much to his perverted delight.

His fingers quickly hook the edge of your panties and pull them a side for your glistening cunt to greet him. His tongue instantly diving to slip, suck, flick and massage your clit.

Your moans muffled with your hands as you lean back on the desk and enjoying the feeling of your boss devouring your pussy like a starved man.

Damian Wayne

“Deviant.” He hisses, standing up with that dangerous look in his eye.

“Come here.” He commands, gesturing to the bed.

Getting up slowly, you nervously began to walk towards the bed, the excitement and anticipation building up. Wondering what he’ll do to you.

“Hands and knees.” He commands. So you do, climbing up onto the bed, getting into that delicious position. Without another word, he shucks your bottoms down, you, fully exposing your core to him, glistening in all its glory. “Giving me head made you this wet?” He taunts, but he seems to be more satisfied than anything.

His hands gripping either side of your ass cheeks, spreading them further so he can get to work.

Without hesitation, he’s in deep, licking your clit and slit from a new angle.

Your world begins to tilt when he shoves a finger in, stimulating your from the inside and outside.

Duke Thomas

Of course you didn’t protest.

As soon as Duke tosses you onto your back, you lay there like a starfish, ready for your boyfriend to become lost in the sauce, like he usually did.

And that’s exactly what happened.

Duke teases you, by licking you through your lingerie panties, just enough so you can feel it, but not enough to feel his heavenly tongue in all its glory.

Your whines don’t go unnoticed, and Duke can never teases his angelic girlfriend long… not with those sounds she’s making anyway.

“More.” You beg.

Without making you wait a second longer, your boyfriend rips your brand new panties, just to get to the goods.

His tongue making quick circles around your clit, one hand hooking your hip, preventing you from moving away, as his other hand snakes up your body to pinch and pull at your tits.

“More!” You beg again, and Duke makes sure, that you need not ask for more.

#dc smut #batboys smut #Bruce Wayne smut #dick Grayson smut #Jason Todd smut #Damian Wayne smut #duke Thomas smut

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plutosunshine · 2 months ago

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Reinvention of Yourself: Planets in the 1st house

Sun in the 1st house

If you have your Sun in the 1st house, reinventing yourself isn't just possible—it’s a part of your journey. You're meant to shine as you, unapologetically. The 1st house is all about identity, self-expression, and how you show up in the world, and with the Sun here, your life energy naturally gravitates toward self-discovery and personal evolution.

So, when you're ready to reinvent yourself, it doesn't have to feel forced or fake. You’re actually stepping more into your essence. You might start by paying attention to what parts of you feel outdated—maybe it’s a style, a belief, a role you've been playing to make others comfortable. Let that stuff go. Reinvention for you is less about becoming someone new and more about letting your true self come forward louder and clearer.

People with the Sun in the 1st house often go through phases where they feel the need to redefine their image or purpose. This isn’t vanity—it’s evolution. Try switching up how you present yourself—your clothes, your voice, how you walk into a room—because when you look like your inner self, your confidence skyrockets. Also, don’t be afraid to claim space. Your presence is your power.

You might get some pushback from people who liked the old version of you, but remember: with the Sun in the 1st, you were born to lead with authenticity. You don’t need to be what others expect—you need to be what you are, fully lit from within. That’s when your energy becomes magnetic and everything starts to shift around you.

Moon in the 1st house

Ah, the Moon in the 1st house brings a whole different flavor—it’s softer, more intuitive, and emotionally rich. If you're reinventing yourself with the Moon here, it means you're tapping into a deeply personal and emotional transformation. Your identity is shaped by your feelings, and you're likely very sensitive to how others perceive you. You pick up on vibes quickly, even before words are spoken.

Reinvention for you means aligning your outer self with your inner emotional truth. You might feel called to change your look, environment, or even your routine when you're emotionally evolving—like when something just feels off and you can’t ignore it anymore. Trust that instinct. The Moon gives you strong inner radar, and when you're emotionally in sync, your whole presence becomes more magnetic and comforting to others.

That said, be mindful of how much of your identity is shaped by your emotional reactions or the people around you. With the Moon in the 1st, it’s easy to shift and adapt to fit the moment, but real reinvention means anchoring into youremotional truth—not just reacting to what others want or expect. Get still. Ask yourself how you really feel. What part of you have you been hiding, suppressing, or softening to keep the peace?

Start showing that part. Whether it’s through your style, your voice, or the way you carry yourself, let your emotional wisdom be seen. You don't need to be loud—you just need to be real. That vulnerability? That’s your superpower.

Mercury in the 1st house

Mercury in the 1st house gives you a mind that moves fast and a personality that needs to express itself. You come off as curious, witty, and articulate—someone who thinks out loud and can talk their way into (or out of) almost anything. When it comes to reinventing yourself, Mercury here says: start with your mindset and your words.

You're likely someone who can adapt easily, and you probably go through phases of experimenting with how you talk, write, or even present ideas. Reinvention for you could look like changing how you communicate—maybe being more direct, more playful, or more intentional with your words. It might even be as simple (and powerful) as rewriting the story you tell yourself about who you are.

With Mercury in the 1st, how you think about yourself shapes how others see you. If you want to change how you’re perceived, change your internal dialogue first. Are you calling yourself shy? Awkward? Too much? Flip the script. Reinvention starts in the brain for you, then flows into your body language, your social presence, and how you interact with the world.

You might also find that physical reinvention feels fun to you—changing your style or experimenting with how you speak or what you share on social media. Just be sure it’s coming from you and not just trying to be clever or performative. Your power is in authentic self-expression, and people are drawn to your mental spark when it's coming from a real place.

Venus in the 1st house

Venus in the 1st house is such a graceful and magnetic placement—you're naturally charming, and there's often an effortless beauty or softness about the way you come across, even if you don’t always see it yourself. Reinventing yourself with Venus here is really about embracing your self-worth and allowing your values and desires to shape how you show up in the world.

People with Venus in the 1st often find that others are drawn to them—whether it's their physical look, their energy, or just how kind and approachable they seem. But here's the catch: because you're so naturally likeable, you might fall into the trap of trying to please or be what others find attractive, rather than fully owning what you find beautiful and meaningful.

Reinvention for you is about getting really clear on what you value—style-wise, relationship-wise, and in terms of your identity. This could mean revamping your look in a way that feels more aligned with your true self, not just what looks "pretty" or what other people expect. It could mean choosing relationships that actually nourish you instead of just flattering you. Or it could be about embracing your artistic, sensual, or romantic side more openly.

This placement also gives you a gift for creating harmony—people feel good around you. But in reinventing yourself, don’t be afraid to let go of the need to be agreeable all the time. You don’t have to keep the peace if it means abandoning your truth. Your real glow comes when you express love and beauty your way.

Mars in the 1st house

Mars in the 1st house? Now that’s a fire-starter energy. You were born to take action, lead, and assert yourself. Reinventing yourself with this placement isn’t just a desire—it’s an urge. Mars gives you drive, edge, and a kind of raw presence that people notice, whether you're trying or not.

When you feel stuck or like you've outgrown a version of yourself, your whole body probably gets restless. Mars here wants movement—physical, emotional, personal. So reinvention for you might start by taking bold, unapologetic steps: cutting your hair, quitting a job, starting a business, joining a gym, saying something that’s long overdue. You don’t tiptoe into change. You kick the damn door down.

The trick with Mars in the 1st is making sure your reinvention isn't just about reacting or proving something. It’s easy to burn hot and fast here—like acting on impulse or pushing against something just for the sake of control. But the real power in your reinvention comes when you slow down just enough to ask, “What am I really fighting for?” Then go after that with all your fire.

Own your intensity. Channel it. Don’t water it down to make people comfortable. You are not here to be soft and neutral—you’re here to embody courage, leadership, and motion. When you reinvent yourself from a place of purpose (not just frustration), you become unstoppable.

Jupiter in the 1st house

Jupiter in the 1st house? You’ve got big energy—literally and symbolically. You radiate optimism, generosity, and a certain presence that feels warm, expansive, even lucky. People often see you as someone who brings light into a room, someone who uplifts. When it comes to reinventing yourself, Jupiter says: think bigger.

Reinvention for you isn't just about a new look or a change in tone—it’s about aligning your identity with something more meaningful, more purposeful, more you. You’re meant to grow and evolve in visible ways, and when you do, others notice. You're a natural teacher, guide, or inspiration, even if you don’t try to be. Your personal growth tends to ripple out and influence people around you.

Jupiter in the 1st also gives you a strong sense of belief—whether it’s belief in yourself, in life, in a philosophy, or in some kind of higher purpose. When you're out of alignment, though, you might feel aimless or like you’re faking your own confidence. That’s your cue to reinvent—not from insecurity, but from that Jupiter place of expansion and wisdom. Ask yourself: “What version of me feels the most free, the most alive, the most honest?” Then be that.

And here's the thing—you don’t have to try to impress anyone. Your presence is already naturally influential. Reinventing yourself might actually mean simplifying things: shedding personas, dropping the need to always seem "together," and showing the more humble, wise, truth-seeking side of yourself.

This placement is a blessing for self-discovery. You grow through experience—travel, learning, connection—and when you lean into those things during reinvention, your whole life tends to open up.

Saturn in the 1st house

Saturn in the 1st house brings a quiet strength—a seriousness, a groundedness, and often a deep sense of responsibility about who you are and how you're seen. You're likely someone who matured early or felt like you had to “hold it together” from a young age. Reinventing yourself with Saturn here is about shedding the weight of who you thought you had to be and stepping into who you truly are, with confidence earned through experience.

Unlike some other placements, your reinvention isn't flashy or sudden. It’s slow, intentional, and incredibly powerful. You rebuild yourself from the ground up, brick by brick. When you change, it’s because you mean it. There's no half-measure with Saturn—you take the work of becoming seriously, and when you evolve, it's the real deal.

The challenge with Saturn in the 1st is that it can come with self-doubt, inhibition, or feeling like you always have to be “on guard.” You might carry a fear of being judged or misunderstood, or you might struggle to relax into who you are without constantly measuring yourself against some internal standard. Reinvention for you starts with compassion for that inner voice—and slowly replacing fear with trust in your own strength and wisdom.

This placement can also give a powerful presence once you own it. People respect you. You may not be the loudest in the room, but you’re the one others quietly look to for guidance. When you start showing up as your true self—without apology or armor—you embody a kind of leadership that’s deeply magnetic.

You’re not meant to rush. You’re meant to build. And when you reinvent yourself, it lasts.

Uranus in the 1st house

Uranus in the 1st house? You were born to break the mold. There’s something undeniably unique—even electric—about your presence. People may not always know what to make of you at first, but they feel that you're different, and that difference is your superpower.

Reinvention for you isn’t just an occasional thing—it’s a way of life. You evolve in sudden leaps, often triggered by some inner realization or a deep urge to break free. You don’t do well being boxed in or told who you are. In fact, any time someone tries to define you, you’re probably already halfway out the door, inventing a new version of yourself.

When you reinvent yourself with Uranus in the 1st, it often looks like radical change—drastic haircut, unexpected lifestyle shift, new name, new career, new identity entirely. And while others might see that as unstable, for you it's a sacred act of liberation. Your job is to keep tuning in to who you’re becoming now, not who you were five minutes ago.

The challenge here is feeling like no one fully “gets” you—or fearing that if you show the real you, people won’t stick around. But Uranus doesn’t care about fitting in. It cares about freedom. Reinvention for you means letting your weirdness, brilliance, and originality shine, without apology.

Trust your inner nudges, even when they don’t make logical sense. You’re wired to lead by being different. The more you express your authentic self—through your look, your work, your voice—the more aligned (and strangely lucky) your life becomes.

Neptune in the 1st house

Neptune in the 1st house gives you an aura that’s hard to define—dreamy, soft, a little mysterious. People might project things onto you without even realizing it, because you reflect what they want to see. That can be a gift, but it also makes your own sense of identity slippery at times. Reinventing yourself with Neptune here is about cutting through illusion and getting to the soul of who you are—not who the world thinks you should be.

You’re a natural shapeshifter. Your energy adapts, melts, and blends into your surroundings. This means you’ve probably gone through phases where you tried on different roles or identities, sometimes without realizing you were doing it. Reinvention, for you, begins with clarity: What parts of you are real, and what parts were picked up from other people’s expectations?

With Neptune in the 1st, your reinvention process is often spiritual, creative, or emotional. It’s not about changing your hairstyle—it’s about healing old illusions, releasing masks, and stepping into your higher self. You’re deeply intuitive, and when you listen to your inner vision, you can transform in ways that feel magical, even otherworldly.

But be careful of escaping into fantasy or losing yourself in an ideal. Reinvention with Neptune should ground you in your truth, not pull you further away. Art, meditation, solitude, and self-reflection can help you clear away the noise so you can ask: Who am I when I’m alone and fully honest with myself?

When you step into your true essence—soft, soulful, deeply perceptive—you become luminous. People are drawn to you because you remind them of something deeper, something eternal. Your power lies in your ability to make the invisible visible.

Pluto in the 1st house

Pluto in the 1st house is intense, magnetic, and deeply transformative. People with this placement don’t just reinvent themselves—they rise from the ashes. You carry an energy that others can’t ignore, even if they don’t fully understand it. There’s something powerful and private about you, like you’ve seen behind the curtain of life and came back stronger.

Reinvention for you isn’t surface-level. It’s psychological. It’s emotional. It’s soul-deep. You might go through identity deaths—times when your entire sense of self breaks down, sometimes dramatically—only to emerge as someone more authentic, more fearless, more real. And even though it can feel isolating, this cycle of transformation is exactly what you’re built for.

With Pluto in the 1st, part of your power comes from owning your shadows, not avoiding them. You can’t fake it, and you don’t need to. People are drawn to your rawness, your depth, your ability to see through BS. Reinvention for you means facing the truth of who you are—flaws, fears, instincts—and then using that truth to reshape your life. When you stop hiding your intensity and instead channel it into your purpose, you become unstoppable.

There’s also a deep resilience here. You might have had to develop a strong exterior early on, like a psychological armor. But as you grow, reinvention may look like softening—not in weakness, but in power. Releasing control. Trusting that being vulnerable won’t destroy you.

Your presence transforms people. That’s no small thing. So when you step fully into your power—not the image, but the real, sometimes messy, transformational truth of who you are—you don’t just reinvent yourself. You change the whole damn room.

#astrology #astro #natal chart #astro observations #birth chart #astro notes #astrology posts #astrology community #astrology lover #astrology blog #astrology facts #astrology notes #astrology placements #planets in houses #planets in the 1st house

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loveemagicpeace · 2 months ago

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Solar Return & Your Rising🌅

✨Imagine each one as the mask of your soul for the year, coloring how you move through the world, how others see you, and the essence of your personal evolution from birthday to birthday. You have to also look where the chart ruler of the rising sign is in the house. ✨

Aries Rising in a Solar Return brings a year where your soul is set on fire. There is an urgency to begin, to act, to break free from old restraints and carve a new path. You walk through life with sharper edges and raw instincts. Your presence is bold, unfiltered, and alive with potential. This is a year of reclaiming your autonomy — not just saying "I am," but living it. You might be more assertive, even impulsive, because something within you is aching to move forward before thinking twice. Life wants you to chase what excites you.

Taurus Rising in a Solar Return invites a year of anchoring. You become more in tune with the rhythm of nature, with your body, with the beauty of slowness. This is a time when you’ll crave security, not only in material terms, but in your emotional and energetic environment. You radiate calm, and others may be drawn to your stability. Your growth this year comes from building — relationships, income, trust — with steady hands and patient timing. Life slows down so that you can truly feel it.

Gemini Rising in a Solar Return brings a year full of conversations, questions, and changes of mind. Your energy is light, curious, and perhaps scattered, drawn to new people, new ideas, and new experiences like a bee to blossoms. There’s a restlessness to this year, and your task is to explore without losing yourself in the noise. You may find yourself talking more, writing more, learning, teaching, sharing, and rethinking everything you thought you knew. The world becomes your classroom.

Cancer Rising in a Solar Return marks a tender, emotional year. You’re more protective of your heart, yet also more open to the quiet healing that comes from truly feeling. Themes of home, family, the past, and emotional safety rise to the surface. Your presence may feel softer, more nurturing, more inwardly focused. This is a time to nourish your roots and honor your inner world. Life asks you to embrace vulnerability — not as weakness, but as strength.

Leo Rising in a Solar Return lights the fire of visibility. You are meant to be seen, to create, to express the truth of who you are without apology. There is more drama in your expression this year — not necessarily conflict, but boldness. Your spirit wants to play, to shine, to fall in love, and to remind others of joy. You might feel a deeper desire for recognition or creative fulfillment. This is your stage, and the world is watching.

Virgo Rising in a Solar Return shifts the focus inward. It’s a year of refinement, of cleaning the dust from the corners of your life, and aligning your actions with your deeper values. You may appear more reserved or critical, but underneath is a deep desire to serve, to heal, and to do things right. Your attention is drawn to your body, your routines, your work, your health. It's not about perfection, but about devotion — to the details that hold your life together.

Libra Rising in a Solar Return brings a year colored by connection. Relationships become mirrors, showing you who you are through the eyes of another. There is a pull toward harmony, toward beauty, toward peace — and yet you may also feel torn by indecision or the need to please. This is a time when love, fairness, and art matter more than usual. You come off as graceful and diplomatic, even when you're spinning inside. The lesson is balance — within and without.

Scorpio Rising in a Solar Return is intense, raw, and transformative. This is a year of depth, not surface. You may find yourself withdrawing from the noise, becoming more selective about who gets close. Others may sense your power and mystery. It’s a time for inner work, for facing your shadows, for letting old versions of yourself die so something more truthful can be born. The world may not understand your metamorphosis, but your soul knows exactly what it's doing. Scorpio is associated with rebirth, power, sexuality, healing, and hidden truths — so these themes will likely dominate your solar year. People might find you more magnetic, but you might also be more selective about who gets close.

Sagittarius Rising in a Solar Return breathes expansion into your lungs. This is a year to wander, physically or spiritually. You may feel a hunger to learn more, to travel farther, to dream bigger. Your aura is open and bright, and others may be inspired by your optimism. You are the seeker now — searching for meaning, not just facts. Whether through study, belief, or bold movement, this year wants you to grow into a wider version of yourself.

Capricorn Rising in a Solar Return brings a year of structure and self-responsibility. You are being asked to grow up in some way — not necessarily to lose your softness, but to rise into your strength. This is a time of building foundations, committing to long-term goals, and showing the world what you're capable of. You may come off more serious or reserved, and life might feel heavier, but there's a quiet pride in taking full ownership of your path.

Aquarius Rising in a Solar Return calls for liberation. You are stepping outside the norm, rejecting boxes, and experimenting with new ways of living and relating. Others may see you as eccentric or ahead of your time. It’s a year to explore what authenticity really means, and how to live by your own truth without needing approval. Friendships, technology, and unexpected change may feature strongly. You are here to shake things up — starting with yourself.

Pisces Rising in a Solar Return opens the gates to the dreamworld. This is a spiritual, poetic, sometimes confusing year. You may feel more sensitive to energies, more intuitive, and more emotionally fluid. There's a softness to your aura, a dissolving of boundaries — for better or worse. You’re being asked to surrender, to trust, to create, to listen to what the world doesn’t say out loud. This is a year of divine timing, of mystery, and of deep soul renewal.

-Rebekah🌅🦋💘

#energy #zodiac signs #my notes #astrology #solar return

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sinkovia · 1 year ago

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Simon Riley hated photographs, but still, you begged him to take pictures together, eager to preserve the precious memories you created.

Simon, glued to his convictions, had always refused no matter how many times you begged.

But what if our memory is not enough? What if we forget what we had together?

I promise you, love. As long as I'm breathing, I'll never let that happen. Our memories will always be enough for me.

Out of respect for his wishes, you had reluctantly ceased your requests, choosing to cherish the moments you shared in the fleeting present. You got rid of all the old photos of yourself, telling yourself that if Simon didn’t need them neither did you.

Now, standing alone before your casket, Simon's regret weighed heavy on his heart like an anchor dragging him down into the depths of despair. He longed for a tangible memento of your time together, a photograph to serve as a beacon of light amidst the darkness of his grief.

But time, that relentless thief of memories, had a cruel way of distorting even the most cherished recollections.

With each passing year, the image of you grew increasingly hazy in his mind, slipping through his fingers like grains of sand in an hourglass. Desperate to hold onto the essence of you, Simon turned to the only medium he knew.

Drawing.

With trembling hands and a heavy heart, he painstakingly sketched your features from memory, pouring his soul into each stroke of the pencil.

But the passage of time had a way of eroding even the most vivid memories , and each attempt to capture you resulted in a different interpretation, leaving Simon haunted by the ever-shifting image of the one he loved.

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crimsonspring · 5 months ago

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Zayne, whose fingers tremble while he holds your face tenderly in his hands, lets out a shaky exhale as his green-hazel eyes stare at your face. He notices the sun spots, the blemishes and scars and he loves each and every one of them. They’re spectacular and unique features that make them you, his obsession runs deep - his heart beats in sincerity and adoration for your ‘imperfections’ — they add to your beauty.

He’s almost overwhelmed by your presence, positively bewildered that he gets to call the beauty of venus and saturn, the magnificent miracles of the sun and the moon, his lover. And just how spoiled is he in this life to be given the privilege of holding this eighth wonder of the world in his two hands.

His two hands that are a map of different scars and countless stories of pain and anguish. And with you in his hands, Zayne marvels at this paradox.

“You… are everything,” he sighs, his head shaking subtly. “Not just to me. You are everything.” It was important to Zayne that you understood that — you could very well be a stranger to him — you would still be everything. The world would continue to turn, showered with the bliss of your kindness and courage. “I understand the world may be unkind yet it knows that it’ll be in penury if it were to be without you. Do you understand that, my Jasmine?” As attentive as he is while conducting surgery, he stares just as intently into your tear glazed ones, as if there are books written in the swirls of your orbs and he’s determined to learn and dissect every line. He wants to absorb it all, understand how such negative self-perception could ever dip its toes into your mind — you are so beautiful and wonderful (inside and out)!

But until he figures this impossible puzzle out, he’ll settle on bringing the cheer back into your eyes. Zayne is a healer in essence, evident in his occupation as well as this current moment.

His gentle caress is a medicine of its own, his loving words the sweetest treat to make up for the pain. “But if the world chooses to be ungrateful to you today, allow me to remind you that you are my anchor and rock. You have brought so much ease and grounding to my life. I simply wish to be the same for you.” His voice is barely over a whisper, he is determined to protect the fragile bubble you are in now. You are a strong and fearless person, no doubt about that, but tonight you are vulnerable, anxious and fragile — and that is okay. Zayne is here.

“Cry if you have to,” he nods reassuringly, delicately pulling your face to face his when you pull away, tightness bubbling in your chest at his shower of intense affection. “You cannot scare me away.” He repeats his actions and sentiment through words directly this time.

Your bottom lip quivers, and it doesn’t take long for the water works to begin. Zayne is your favourite place to be, and not just because of the last bite of dessert that he saves for you, the back massages he spoils you with after a long day of work (despite his own of hours-long surgeries) or the bills that he pays. But because he allows you to be craven once in awhile, to be imperfect, to tire… and love you all the same.

#my first second person POV… dk how i feel about it but I’m trying new things out! Hehe #another self indulgent piece…… just want zayne to hold me on tougher days! wanna know how it would feel to be loved unconditionally #anyway not proof read wrote this on my phone whilst on the toilet #zayne #love and deepspace #lnds #l&ds #zayne x reader #zayne x mc #lads #love and deepspace writing

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heauxvibez · 1 year ago

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He Loves To Talk You Through It

warning: Smut (18+), shoutout to @shes2real for inspiring me because they ATE DOWN with what they wrote today. Please go check their page out!

One thing we all love and know Roman for is his way with words. He has a passion for talking, reveling in the sound of his own voice. Yet, as much as he loved to speak, it couldn't compare to the pleasure you felt listening to him.

"Tell daddy how much you love when I fuck you like this..when I look you in the eyes while I hit that spot."

His words always caressed your ears softly, even when they were rough and demanding. Whether he was pinning you down or had his calloused hands wrapped around your throat, every word he spoke felt like a sensual embrace, leaving you breathless with each and every syllable.

"Runnin' ain't gon do nothin’ but make me wanna go deeper.."

That man always makes you feel so many things at once. He has this incredible ability to be both rough and gentle, his words so sinister yet whispered through soft, angelic lips that set your skin ablaze. Your tender, supple skin is handled by his calloused hands, which somehow manage to hold you delicately, with the same gentleness he used to handle your heart.

"Eyes on me.." he commanded with your ass firmly pressed against his pelvis, his dick deep in you almost melting and molding into your wetness as he searched for that spot.

"And don't look away, at all."

You locked eyes with him, staring into his dark eyes through the bedroom closet mirror. That warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest consumed your whole body when he did this. He knew that making you look at him while he snatched every fiber of your being from you would not only make you extremely nervous but also have you begging for mercy.

"A pretty girl like you can't be fucked without me seeing every single moan leave those pretty lips.."

Your whimpers are like music to his ears but listening to them while you were faced down, ass up was never good enough for him. He thrived off having you pinned against his body, physically feeling you fall apart against his skin while you threw your head in the air and allowed your sobs to paint the room.

"Yeah, just like that. Fuck, baby girl. I got you.."

His muscles twitched and tensed against your backside as he held you close by your throat with the hand accompanied by his sleeve. Watching that arm flex as he controlled you practically had your essence dripping down his length. His beautiful smile lines deepened as his lips curled into that sexy smirk that had you swooning each and every time. He watched your eyes divert for a quick second to look at the tattoo. Jesus, he literally had you in a chokehold.

"Look at you, so fucking weak for me right now...melting in my fucking arms,"

Your eyes never left his, just as he wanted, locked in a soul snatching gaze. He felt your body crumbling with every word he spoke, but he held you up. Each heartbeat, each breath, each moan, whimper, bound you tighter to him,

'That's it mama, keep lookin' at daddy.."

He slowly continues his thrusts, being sure to aim for your sweet spot with each movement of his hips. His right hand always finds it's way to your clit rubbing in slow, agonizing circles sliding in between your slit to dip into your wetness and back to your throbbing pearl.

"Damn. You're so in love with me aren't you baby?" he asks before allowing his tongue to trace his lips.

The air felt thin, almost suffocating. You wondered how you could still look this man in the eyes while releasing soft, desperate gasps. Yet, each sound that escaped you, made him throb in response to each breath you made. Your hands clung to his wrists, not to push him away but to anchor yourself as the pleasure pulsed through you.

"You couldn't hide it if you wanted to, you're so damn wet for me..just for me" Your juices still coated his lips from the taste of you he had earlier. He moaned as his mind gave him a quick flashback of his feasting session earlier.

That moan rumbled through your ear almost pushing you to the edge. His fingers still toyed with your clit, pulling away and turning into soft, light taps when he'd hear your breath quicken.

"Aren't you?" he questioned again, this time a bit firmer. A bit rougher.

"Yes, daddy.." you choked out before your teeth sunk into your lower lip. His touch was still steady against your throat. It felt as if every sound trying to escape you was trapped by his grasp.

"Good." his low and husky voice brushed against your ear.

"Because, I'm just as in love with you.." he breathed out, another moan escaping his lips.

You weren't sure how much more of this sweet torment you could take, but you had no choice. The night would be endlessly filled with his touch and the intoxicating words that flowed from his lips.

"Aht, look at me while you cum, sweetheart. You better not look away."

"I just need you to nut one more time baby."

"That's it my love, give me that nut. Fuck, mmm, I love this shit."

---------------------------

Very very random, but hope you enjoyed it!

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi

@msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @blacst4r @sassginamillls @wrestlingprincess80

@headoftheetable @trashbin-nie @sheyaish @tshepisho @mzv11 @venusesworld

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #wwefanfic #romanreignsimagine #wwe #romanreignsoneshot #roman reigns smut #fanfiction #roman reigns x black reader

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lanabuckybarnes · 1 year ago

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Winter’s Girl

18+ Minors DNI

(I do not own any photos, credits to original owners)

Could you imagine being a scientist on the winter soldier program, your task is to make sure he’s at 100% before every mission. This time though, when you enter his holding cell he’s nowhere to be found.

Note: I HIT 300 FOLLOWERS; thank you guys so much I love you all xxxx

Pairing: Winter Soldier x Reader

Warnings: Translated Russian because I’m stupid and know one language, Jealous Soldat, use of the word Puppy/Pup as a petname, a lil Biting, Hair pulling, Spanking, Spitting, The Winter Soldier (he’s a warning), Creampie, He’s a little sweet at the end but there isn’t much aftercare— as always if I’ve missed anymore let me know!

Word Count: 1.2k (of porn with no plot)

You gaze flicks around the room, a little panic stricken but who wouldn’t be when a 6ft something assassin had seemingly disappeared from his cell.

The fear bubbling in your belly only triples when you face the long broken mirror that sat just above the sink, behind you his cerulean gaze was undeniable. His hands reach out, the cool metal one wrapping itself around the bottom of your face, muffling any protests, while the other gripped your hip with bruising fingers and pushed you forward till your pubis and upper thighs knocked against the sink.

Your hands fall on instinct to the cold metal as your fingers grip at the surface, when you flick your gaze up to the mirror you can see that what swims in his own orbs isn’t anger or the usual killer instinct, no— the Winter soldier looks at you with lust.

“красотка” (pretty) He whispers hoarsely against your neck, hot pants of air from his mouth coating your throat like paint. His teeth nip right at your pulse point before his warm tongue smooths over the mark.

When you jerk, his grip tightens, “don’t move” He stares at you pointedly through the mirror before both his hands retreat from your frame.

You vaguely register the soft sound of fabric hitting the cold floor before he swipes your own clothes from your body, the harsh air was harsh; it almost felt like dipping your body into a bath filled with ice.

He groans, loud and throaty as his eyes bore into your ass and panties. Despite the cool atmosphere of the cell you feel everywhere burning with a primal want. You wanted this, you had since the first time you worked with the Soldier. He smelled the way you slicked up at the sight of him in nothing but his briefs, blood dripping from his nose, a musky scent radiating from him that had you desperately soaked. He wanted this too, he needed the release and the best kind of toy was one that was willing.

You felt his fat tip press against your hole, pushing in and out softly over the thin lace before it slipped to stimulate your hard little nub. The strong grip on your hip was back, anchoring your feet in their exact spot.

“You need this?” He kissed sloppily up your spine, It sounded more like a statement than a question but you nodded all the same.

He worked quick after your confirmation. Your panties were pulled to the floor by their soaked gusset and two of his chubby metal fingers speared you, pulling a delightful sounded moan that the Soldier was desperate to hear more of.

They worked methodically, pushing in and curling out, your legs shook at every time the cool pads bumped over each pleasure filled rib.

Once he deemed you ready enough, his fingers slipped from your tight hole to jerk at his thick length, coating himself in your essence. He so desperately wanted to taste you but his cock was crying out for attention, he’d get his fill next time.

“F-fuck” you moaned loudly as he pushed in, all semblance of decency thrown out the window at the feeling of his fat cock stretching you, there was a burn from ill prep but with the size of him you weren’t sure there would be a way to prep. You were thankful that he let up for just a bit so your insides could mould to accommodate him.

When he started thrusting his pace was brutal, his meaty thighs slapping against your own, the sound mixing with the squelching push and pull of his cock along your fluttering folds. You’d thank his super soldier serum later for his constant pounding pace but right now you could think of nothing but him.

“Bucky!” you squealed as his cool digits flicked meticulously across your sensitive clit, your fingernails scraped mindlessly at the shiny plates of his forearm. He growled possessively at the slip of the name, his right hand fisting clumps of your hair to angle your head up to watch you both in the mirror.

“Does Bucky fuck you like this? Mm?” Jealousy dripped from his words as his metal hand smacked your rear hard before gripping the reddened flesh to cool the area.

You couldn’t think, you watched as your thighs jumped at each pound of his hips, the way your mouth had sat slack ever since he shoved his length into you, drool poured from your lips but you didn’t care— you couldn’t care— not with how cock drunk you were.

He smacked your ass again, this time when he gripped the flesh he pulled your cheek to the side, parting your ass before launching a fat glob of spit that ran from your tight little asshole to the spot where you two joined.

“I asked you a fucking question!” He pushed forward, teeth finding the lobe of your ear and biting down, the action pulling a squeaked moan from your swollen mouth.

“No-no he can’t, he can’t… please Soldier I’m so close” You wailed, one of your own hands travelling down to play with your neglected clit. The soft touch of your fingers had you jerking back to meet him.

“Mmm, Отчаянный щенок (desperate puppy)… you cum when I say you can” he was panting now, hips hammering into you at a slightly sloppier pace; It wouldn’t be long until he found his own release as well.

He moaned loudly, he had no control over his own body now, driven only by decades of primal unsatisfied lust. He thrust harder if it were possible, his wild blue eyes glaring at your fucked out face through the cracks in the mirror.

“You ready pup?” he asked between loud groans.

“Mmm, so ready солдат (soldier)” you slurred, your head hung loosely between your shoulders when his hand slipped down your spine, you’d lost all energy to hold it up ages ago— you’d been relying solely on the tight grip he had on your hair.

“Augh, shit” he growled almost animalistic through clenched teeth, his damp forehead settling on the silky skin stretched over your shoulder blades. He thrust deeply one last time.

“Cum angel…cum…cum on me” the words fell from his mouth along with slurs of broken Russian as he painted your walls white, his cock twitched against your vice grip as you silently screamed at your own release.

You hadn’t the faintest clue how long you two basked in the after glow of whatever you had just done, your mind only coming back to you when you felt his softening length pull from your aching heat. The feeling of your mixed juices slipping from your hole had you almost coming for a second time, especially when you felt his cold fingers drag up the mess it made in your thigh before he pushed it back into your core.

His arms lifted you up with him as he backed up until he sat on a rickety cot in the corner of the room. You had no idea if it would hold both your weights but it was the last thought to cross your mind when his thick arms wrapped around your waist, his flesh fingers rubbing soothing circles over your hip bone. He kissed you, tenderly, before flopping his head onto the almost flat pillow.

You were almost asleep when you heard the deep rumble of his voice behind you. “Who the hell is Bucky?”

I have an insatiable appetite for jealous Bucky.

I also desperately needed to write something for the world’s favourite Soldat because I would not sleep peacefully tonight thinking of this and not sharing.

Hope you enjoyed x

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