#panty anarchy x reader

[trancylovecraft]

Can I get headcanons for panty anarchy x reader?

(PASWG) YANDERE! PANTY ANARCHY x READER: General Headcannons

Thank you for ordering!

Come again soon!

Oooh nice one!

Panty Anarchy as a yandere I see as one of the less dangerous yandere's in this verse though to be fair none of them are THAT dangerous.

Not to say she isn't bad though. Far fucking from it!

I see her as an Obsessive, Clingy and Jealous kind of yandere. Perhaps Semi-Manipulative with a tinge of sadism too.

Obsessive in the way she just adores you. She thinks you're just the cutest thing and absolutely loves to tease you. Panty likes learning about you, Collecting some of your items

Clingy in the way she always has a hand touching you somewhere (I am now realising how bad that sounds once I type it out). An arm slugged over your shoulder, Hand holding as she takes you along. Panty is always following you around, Talking your ear off usually.

Jealous in the way that she just does NOT like anyone talking to you. Anyone that does interact with you she instantly grows a strong distaste for, Why would you be talking to anyone when she is right here? Panty's an angel, The hottest AND the most charming person you've met so why are you talking to them?

Leads us onto our next point. Semi-Manipulative in the way she instantly bad talks them to you, A lot of cuss words and disgusting metaphors. I don't think Panty's even aware she's manipulating you and changing your worldview, She tells you she gets a "Bad vibe" from them and to stay away.

And finally, Semi-Sadistic in the way she likes to tease you. Panty enjoys bantering with you and taking shots at one another, Loving the expressions of hurt or any reaction you may give. Don't worry though, If it gets too much she will apologise as she lazily tosses you a snack as payment.

She doesn't really remember how her obsession started, Panty just saw you one day said "God damn! They're HOT!" and your fate was sealed.

Panty, Unlike other yandere's wastes no time on approaching you. Instantly strutting up to you and starting to flirt with you to no end. At first, Panty treats this like any other man or woman she's trying to get with.

But when you start turning down her advances, She's standing there stunned. Even more so when you start hitting her back with her own lines, Matching her own flirtatious attitude perfectly.

Panty stands there flustered for the first time in her life. She can't say anything as you flirt back to her, Every little word you say makes her blush profusely. All before a shot of blood erupts from her nose and she falls unconscious on the floor.

Afterwards, She's hooked.

It's not just sexual anymore. Panty feels romantically attracted to you too, At first she finds this icky since romance just isn't her deal. Whenever Stocking mocks her for how she's feeling Panty is suddenly more defensive.

But once she finally settles with it her eyes are set on you entirely. Her hook-ups become less frequent since she's so busy on befriending and hopefully getting you in her bed.

Panty starts following you around. She begins to tease you, It's her way of talking. She keeps making innuendo's and hints at her feelings, You however shrug it off as you both start to gain somewhat of a friendship and see it banter. For you at least, Panty sees it waaaay differently.

Panty, As your relationship continues grows more and more enthralled in you. To the point she even starts slacking off when killing ghosts, Stocking is annoyed by this but Panty could not give a fuck.

Panty constantly mocks you. Sometimes pushing you around in a flirtatious way but nothing more than that.

She really starts to lean into the romantic stuff, Though she is not experienced in it whatsoever. It's also the reason why it comes off as banter when she shoves a bouquet in your hand, Her inexperience makes it look playful and platonic.

This starts to irritate Panty though she doesn't say anything about it. She believes if she throws enough bouquets into your hands and tosses you enough chocolate (It's Stockings) she'll date you soon enough.

That mentality only stops however once you start to go out with other friends.

Panty is absolutely baffled why. She's been working her ass off to try and get into your pants yet you want to hang out with other people? Panty is the hottest bitch here, Why the hell would you want to talk to anyone else?

Her jealous tendencies instantly kick in and she starts ranting off to you about the people you've been hanging around. She's throwing out every cuss word she can think of (its in the four figure digits) and starts telling you how horrible they are.

You instantly start telling her to back off. These are your friends you've known all your life and you've only known her for maybe a few months, She's acting real controlling and you don't like it.

After her blow-up at you, You decide you should start distancing yourself from her. Much to her chagrin of course, Especially once she see's that the time you spent with her is spent with them now.

Even more so when you seem to be getting.. Intimately close.

That's when she just can't handle it. Panty couldn't give two fucks if you cry or scream, She shoots your partner square in the head with a gun. Barely giving a shit once you yell out and run away.

Panty doesn't understand it either as she chases after you. Quickly catching up due to her angelic strength as she tackles you to the ground, Getting on top of you and threatening you at gunpoint.

You're crying as she acts just as normal as she usually does. Still throwing what she considers banter at you, You try to get away but she's too strong for you to do anything about it.

Before you know it you're thrown into the back of her car and driven off towards the church.

Now you enter the domestic stage.

You live in Panty's room from now on. Ignoring all the suggestive stuff you're basically locked in there forever, She doesn't let you out except to go to the bathroom.

Panty really could care less. She doesn't take anything seriously. While she is completely in love with you that doesn't mean she's delusional, Don't try to manipulate her into letting you out because she will figure it out.

She won't force anything on you other than maybe sleeping together and physical affection. Even though she is rather horny 24/7 she understands the importance of consent and won't do anything you're not comfortable with sexually.

Not romantically though. Panty still expects a kiss or two and keeps up with her touchy attitude. This time it's more intimate since she's decided courting is over.

Hugging, Cuddling, Lying in bed with her or general indoor PDA is all the rage with her. She's still new to this romantic stuff (Or in her words: "She feels like a fuckin' virgin again") and still get's flustered.

Panty loves you a lot but she doesn't say it. Her love language is touch and quality time, If you try to get her to admit it she'll get huffy and mock you more

If you try and escape it's most definetly possible. Though trust me it would be TOUGH. Gaining her trust or pretending to love her more than you actually do would be a good way.

Afterwards once she lowers her guard and leaves the door unlocked you could make a run for it.

If you do manage to get out she would be PISSED. Like you've been playing her this entire time and she's bloody angry, Hell and heaven are shaking rn kinda angry.

Panty would 24/7 be looking for you. She doesn't care who she has to diddle to get you back, She will, At any cost.

Once she does she'll drag you back screaming and crying by the hair or your legs, Yelling and cursing you out as you're unable to get out.

Once you're back she will NOT trust you again, Not for a long while. Not for a good few years. Your room will be double padlocked and you'll be locked in a closet when she's away for a few weeks.

Good luck :)

[freakyfrye]

˚₊‧꒰ა 𝕻𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔶 & 𝕾𝔱𝔬𝔠𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔴/ 𝕲𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝓜. 𝓛𝓲𝓼𝓽 ໒꒱ ‧₊

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 𝐊𝐞𝐲𝐬: 𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐭¡𝐜𝐚 💦 | 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 🃏| 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 🪼| 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 ☘️ | 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭🍦| 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 💉 | 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 2 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 🎻 | 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 🔌 | 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 🧸

𝘿𝙞𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚𝙡 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙖𝙮 𝙖 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙪𝙥𝙤𝙣 𝙪𝙨?

𐚁ᥫ᭡. 𝕶𝔫𝔢𝔢𝔰𝔬𝔠𝔨𝔰 𝕯𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫 & 𝕾𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔶 𝕯𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫

♡ 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰 ♡

♡ 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰 ♡

♡ 𝔦𝔪𝔞𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔰/𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔰 ♡

♡ 𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔱𝔰 ♡

♡ 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰 ♡

♡ 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔰 ♡

𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙜𝙤 𝙝𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙗 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙨

𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙛𝙚𝙨𝙩! 𐚁ᥫ᭡. 𝕻𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔶 (𝕭𝔬𝔵𝔢𝔯) 𝕬𝔫𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥𝔶

♡ 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰 ♡

♡ 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰 ♡

♡ 𝔦𝔪𝔞𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔰/𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔰 ♡

♡ 𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔱𝔰 ♡

♡ 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰 ♡

♡ 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔰 ♡

𝘼𝙢 𝙄 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙩?!

𐚁ᥫ᭡. 𝕾𝔱𝔬𝔠𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 (𝕾𝔬𝔠𝔨𝔰) 𝕬𝔫𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥𝔶

♡ 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰 ♡

♡ 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰 ♡

♡ 𝔦𝔪𝔞𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔰/𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔰 ♡

♡ 𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔱𝔰 ♡

♡ 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰 ♡

♡ 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔰 ♡

all genderbent only. artwork is not mine.

[shiguknifeii]

uuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhh, send help?????

[lipglossanon]

Anarchy Road

The Merchant x Fem!Reader (third part; one shot)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), light pussy slapping, unprotected sex, creampie, light praise kink

random inspiration 🤷‍♀️ not proofread ✍️

title from Anarchy Road by Carpenter Brut

~previous~

You’re not sure how you made it here, but somehow the castle seems to be even more fucked up than the village. Entering another room, you walk around taking stock of it all. According to your map, in order to progress you’ll need to get past a wall. It seems to be locked by some strange mechanism involving the statue at the end. It’s missing the heads of the chimera which you can only presume opens the wall etched with the same chimera relief. 

Wandering back down the stairs, you open up one of the doors and stumble upon the Merchant once more. 

“‘ello, love,” his rough voice makes you smile, shoulders dropping some tension as you shut the door. 

“Hi,” you murmur, “fancy meeting you here, hmm?”

He chuckles and you feel warmth bubbling under your skin.

“Can’t complain,” he winks at you, “what can I do you for, stranga?”

“You can do me.”

The words are out of your mouth before you even blink. Embarrassment burns hot behind your eyes as the Merchant laughs low in his chest. 

“Straight to the point. I like that,” he moves from around the little wooden table to crowd you against the settee in front of the fireplace. 

Arousal pools low in your stomach as his rough hands grip your hips and manhandles you down onto the loveseat. He kneels in between your legs and helps you take off your shoes. 

“Been imagining this since the first time,” his eyes flash up at you as he quickly works your pants and panties down and off your legs.

He groans as he presses your thighs apart and sees your glistening pussy.

“Bet you’re gonna taste like ambrosia,” he mutters, tugging his hood back, “close your eyes, love, lay back and enjoy it”

Pouting, you tangle your fingers in his dark hair, “Wanna watch.”

He winks, “Maybe later. Now close’em or I won’t eat your pretty little pussy.”

With a whine, your head falls against the back of the couch, eyes slipping shut as you hear the rustle of him removing his mask. Another groan from him and then you feel a hot tongue lick a broad stripe up your slit. 

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, fingers tightening in his dark strands. 

“That’s it,” he practically growls, “so fucking wet.”

You feel stubble scrape against your pussy lips and you widen your thighs even more. His tongue slips inside your drooling cunt and flutters in and out of your hole. With a groan that vibrates your pussy, he licks his way up to your clit. He circles the swollen bud over and over, so slow it makes you hump up into his mouth. 

“Patience,” he teases, pulling away to spank your pussy, making you whimper, “and let me taste this soft cunt how I like.”

He slaps your pussy a few more times before kissing all across your thighs. Using his thumb, he pulls the hood of your clit up and kitten licks the swollen bud again and again. 

“Fuck,” you cry out, slick dripping all down your thighs as he teases you, “please, sir, need you to fuck me. ‘m so empty.”

“Aww,” he coos, accent thick, “poor li’l thing, pussy’s just greedy for my cock, isn’t she?”

“Uh huh,” you mewl as he sucks your clit into his mouth and slobbers all over the pudgy bud, “god, please, want you to stretch me out and fill me up.”

“S’that right?” he pulls away with another slap across your soaked pussy, the sting making your eyes water in pleasure, “such a needy girl.”

Ignoring your pleas for more, he buries his face into your cunt, nose grinding against your swollen clit as his tongue licks and fucks into your pussy eagerly. Tugging on his hair, you grind yourself against his face, moaning as his stubble scrapes against your cunt. Imagining the beard burn later has you gushing even more slick onto his tongue. 

He grips your thighs tightly, gloved hands rough as he holds you open even further, spreading your pussy for his lips and tongue. Groaning, he sloppily kisses and licks your slit, running his tongue up and down your pussy before lapping at your sensitive clit. 

“Can’t wait to bury my cock inside your tight cunt,” he croons, pulling away to spit on your clit. 

“Yes, please,” you beg, “please, sir, want it so bad.”

“So soft and wet,” he flutters his tongue inside your hole before sucking your pussy lips into his mouth. 

Spit and slick drips down your cunt to pool onto the floor. It doesn’t take long until you’re bucking your hips and whimpering, climax teetering on the edge. 

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you gasp out, eyes clenched shut as you pull on his hair. 

He pulls completely away from your pussy and you whine, eyes blinking open to catch a glimpse of his face. His eyes are crinkled like he’s smiling when you look down to see his face covered again. 

“Too slow, love.”

Ignoring his cockiness, you reach down and spread your pussy open, “Are you going to finish what you started?”

His eyes flick down to the apex of your thighs and he grunts in acknowledgement. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll give this lovely little cunt the fuck she needs.” 

He removes his pants and pulls his cock out, head peeking from the foreskin as precum drips down his length. 

“Oh, please,” you arch your back, “fuck me.”

“Love to hear you beg,” he swears under his breath and notches the head of his dick against your hot clenching hole. 

“Oh god,” you choke out, pussy stretching almost uncomfortably as he slowly sinks his cock inside. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t take it slow,” he wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you down as he thrusts forward. 

A scream tears from your throat as you feel too much too fast, pussy clamped down on his dick as your clit throbs in arousal. 

“Oh that’s it, love, fucking squeeze me,” he presses you down on to the loveseat, coaxing your legs to wrap around his waist while he slowly slips halfway out. 

“Too big,” you scratch at his shoulders and arms as he bullies his cock back into your pussy, “but feels so good.”

“I know, perfect fucking cunt,” he rasps, masked mouth pressed against your neck as he breathes heavily, “sweet little pussy not only looks pretty, but tastes pretty, and is always so fucking tight for me.” 

You whimper as he starts up a rough tempo, pounding his fat cock in and out of your cunt so fast that slick wet sounds fill the air. He’s fucking you so good that your brain feels like complete mush. Moans going unmuffled, you toss your head back as he ruts in and out of your pussy with quick deep thrusts. Grinding the tip against your cervix makes you clamp down as that pinching pleasure causes more slick to drip around his thick cock. 

“That’s it, love, let me use your fat wet pussy to feel good,” he chuckles, slowing down so each thrust is more powerful. 

He fucks into you so slow and deep, it makes you drool all over yourself, pussy feeling stretched and used—you love it, not able to think past the feeling of him buried in your guts. 

“S’good, sir, it’s so deep,” you slur, soaked hole squeezing and pulsing around his cock as he humps your pussy. 

Nothing but syrupy pleasure drips from your spine all the way through your body as the band of arousal in your stomach winds tighter and tighter. With a low laugh, he shifts his hips and presses his cock upwards to grind his drippy tip against your g-spot constantly.

“Wettest little puss I’ve ever had the pleasure to stretch out on my cock,” he moans down at you, dropping more of his body weight on you and driving his cock deeper into your body. 

You choke out a gasp, hands clawing at his back, totally out of breath from how much deeper his dick is plunging into your pulsing cunt. One of his hands shifts from your waist down towards your pussy, thumb slowly circling your clit now. 

“So slippery, love,” he murmurs, voice low and smoky, “feels like you’re gonna cum for me.”

“Want to, sir,” eyelashes fluttering as he increases the pressure on your swollen bud, “m’pussy feels so good.”

“That’s good,” he soothes, “want you creaming my cock, love, show me how much this hot cunt wants my cum.”

Your back arches at his words, hips swiveling down to tempt him to thrust into you faster. He leans back far enough to drop a hot glob of spit down onto your pussy, rubbing it into your clit with his calloused thumb. 

“Oh god,” you whine out a mewling cry as your pussy clamps down on his dick, walls clenching and fluttering around him as that final act pushes you over the edge. 

“Yes, yes, atta girl,” he praises you warmly, never letting up on rubbing your pudgy bud, “squeezing me so tight with that little pussy.”

Your orgasm only seems to heighten as he continues to fuck into your squelching cunt, balls smacking against your ass while the fat tip knocks into your cervix until your eyes roll back. 

“Give me one more, I know you can do it,” he coaxes, “let me feel that pretty pussy flutter on my cock.”

You know your babbling gibberish at him, but can’t do much more than clench and grind against him, hips bucking into his powerful thrusts as he rails you into the loveseat. With your second orgasm, it feels like an explosion goes off in your body, pussy contracting violently around his cock as your muscles lock up. You can hear him say something to you, but your bloods rushing through your brain and you can’t make out the words. 

With a few more harsh thrusts, he groans and buries his cock balls deep into your pussy, hot sticky cum spilling from his throbbing tip, painting your walls white. Your pussy flutters and clenches around his dick as he stuffs your hole with rope after rope of his thick cum. He grinds himself against your cervix as he finishes inside your fluttering cunt before slowly pulling out, a creamy mix of cum and slick oozing from your pussy. 

He slowly sits back on his haunches. His fingers spread open your used cunt to watch as his cum leaks out of your clenching pussy.

“Now stranga, that’s a sight to see,” he chuckles appreciatively. 

You blearily look down and see his cock thickening again as he fingers his cum back into your sore cunt.

“Might I interest you in another round?” He lightly smacks his chubbed cock against your messy pussy, “make it worth your while.”

Whimpering, you nod before gasping as he ruts his cock across your slit to bump against your clit, smearing cum and slick against your skin. 

“Good girl.”

[patukkaas]

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

Stocking Anarchy x Fem! Reader

Hcs

Requested by @MarsOfTheStars3020 on wattpad

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

Confession

- If Stocking took a romantic side liking to you it wouldn't really, include a confession..

- It would be more like I like you, you like me we're together now.

- Don't ask me how she'd know you like her, she just kinda knew it for no reason?

Relationship

- SHE WOULD SHARE HER SWEETS. Her top love

language, and or make some for you by hand.

- Would learn EVERYTHING you liked in food and she would know everything from your allergies

to just food you slightly dislike.

- And she would not care AT ALL how you looked,

when she's in love she's head over heels.

- Would somehow fall EVEN more inlove with

you if YOU were to bake something just for her.

- She would feel like she's already back in

heaven when she eats it.

- She would dress you up in lolita clothing

atleast once.

- Talking about clothing she would 100% either

Braid or accesorize your hair.

- Will talk about you to anyone who'll listen.

- Doesn't care if Panty or Garterbelt talks shit about you or in general don't like you.

- Will slice somebody up if they talk shit about you.

- Turns guys down with a "ew I have a girlfriend" if they dare to try to shoot their shot.

- Dates will consist of picnics, going out on walks, going to coffee shops, going to the movies, reading magazines together, self-care days and junking out on hand baked sweets.

- Doesn't ever wanna think of having to leave you when she has to go back to heaven.

- But if that moment comes she makes sure to cherish every moment with you.

- Makes SURE Panty stays far far faarr away from you.

- It can be hard at times but she makes the effort.

- If you're watching her fight a ghost or in general fight against anyone she's making sure she shows off and that you'll be impressed.

- She 100% turns into that anime artstyle when she's trying to impress you lol.

Break- up

- Probably one of her first and only fears.

- It's pretty clear theres no way of you two going different ways than her having to go back to heaven, and or you dying of course..

- Can Stocking die? I don't know !

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

[kelppsstuff]

Ahhhh your so thoughtful 💛

I love your recent work Adam x panty anarchy reader so much!

BTW I just got your ask and I’m working on it right now ☺️

@adamsfavoritesinner

[rayslittlekitten]

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#5

Early To Rise

“Dad Will” Masterlist

A/N: This is more so mommy and daddy time, but Lucy does make an appearance.

Word Count: ~610

Pairing: Dad!Will x Wife F!Reader

Plot: Will tries to get in some sexy time with you before Lucy wakes up.

Contains: morning foreplay (fingerbanging)

You slowly come to, feeling soft kisses on your bare shoulder and back of your neck. A warm hand is kneading your waist and feel your husband's morning wood poking at you. You moan and then giggle when you feel Will's beard tickling a sensitive spot.

"Babe..." you croak.

"Good morning, love," Will greets you before burying his face into the crook of your neck and inhaling your scent.

"Mm," you hum as you feel his hand travel up to your breast under your tank top.

His thumb slides over your nipple and lazily flicks it. You arch against him and press your ass back into him. His hips meet your thrusts as you push back again, feelings his soft lips and tongue on your skin. You hear him panting into your ear as he grinds harder into you. His hand leaves your breast and moves down to the inside of the front of your panties. You adjust your leg to allow him better access. His fingertips tease your entrance, coating himself with your arousal.

Will slips a long slender middle finger inside you and you quietly moan, turning your head towards him. He nudges his nose against your cheek, feeling his warm breath on your face as he slowly pumps his finger in and out of you. You feel Will shifting next to you and then find his face hovering over yours. He leans in to kiss you and you start making out with him while his pacing picks up. He slips another finger, his ring finger, inside and you moan into his mouth. Your hips buck, trying to create more stimulation. Even muffled by the comforter, you can still hear the wet suction of his fingers plunging in and out of you. You can feel his wedding band at your opening every time he pushes in and the sensation actually makes you clench a bit more.

"Will..." you pant.

"I got you, baby." Will removes his fingers and hovers over you, holding himself up with one arm while using the hand he just teased you with to pull his rock hard erection out of his boxers. He then pushes your panties aside and looks down to align himself with you. He coats the tip with your arousal, teasing you a bit more until he finally starts slowly pushing. Suddenly, you hear the doorknob jingling and it makes your bodies immediately jerk and pull apart.

"MOMMY! DADDY!"

"Fuck," Will grumbles in frustration and moves off of you.

The door bursts open and Lucy comes sprinting in. Will immediately pulls the comforter and a pillow over his bottom half.

"Hi, Lucy! Good morning!" You sit up and discreetly adjust your underwear under the blanket. You look over at the clock and it reads 6:47. "You're up super early today."

"YOU THAID WE'RE GOING TO THE THIENCE THENTER TODAY!!" Lucy jumps up and down. "Come on!" Lucy grabs your hand and tries to drag you out of bed.

"Okay, okay, I know you're excited. Come on, let's make you some breakfast first, okay?"

"YAY!" Lucy, full of energy, sprints out of the bedroom, zooming around.

"Sorry, babe." You look over at Will. "I'll go get her day started while you can rub one out."

You start to get out of bed, but Will pulls you back in.

"I don't want to rub one out," he whines. "I just want to make love to my wife." He pulls you in closer and kisses you, cupping your face to deepen the kiss.

Lucy comes running back into the bedroom.

"EWWW!!" Lucy scrunches her face and runs back out while giggling.

222 notes - Posted March 30, 2022

#4

"Dad Will" Masterlist

A/N: The first I wrote for his universe was "Like Father, Like Daughter" because I had this urge to write an overprotective Dad!Will Miller and well, like most of my one shots, it expanded and built to be something more. I've fallen in love with Dad!Will and his daughter. Some of these include Wife!Reader, but the main focus is on the relationship between Will and his daughter. The fics are listed chronologically in terms of timeline.

Also, I still haven't officially decided yet, but the precursor for these stories can be "Husband Duties" which I wrote a long while ago.

- The Girl Who Cried Daddy (no smut, comfort) - Babe (no smut, fluff) - Pizza My Heart (no smut, fluff) - Baby Sharks (no smut, goofiness) - Hide and Seek (no smut, angsty, hurt/comfort) - Birthday Girl (no smut, fluff) - Early To Rise (smutty, some morning foreplay) - Old Dog, New Tricks (no smut) - Snitches Get No Ice Cream (a smidge of sexy moment, humor) - Lies (no smut, angst) - No Sugar, All Spice (no smut, angst, a little fluff) - Can't Take My Eyes Off You (no smut, fluff, squint of angst) - Like Father, Like Daughter (no smut, humor) - Sleeping Beauty (no smut, fluff) - Pains (no smut) - Color My World (no smut) - Team Work (no smut, humor) - Comforts (no smut, fluff) - Mine (no smut, fluff) - Late Night Chats (no smut, fluff, comfort) - Millers Are Not Quitters (no smut) - High Tensions (no smut, lots of angst) - It Doesn't Get Easier (no smut, hurt/comfort) - Talk To Me (no smut) - Matchies (no smut) - Mommy and Daddy Time (a moment of sexiness before it gets too spicy) - Captain and the Siren (smut)

223 notes - Posted March 8, 2022

#3

Boo'd Up

Crazy | Bad | Again | Boo’d Up

A/N: It's finally done. Sign, sealed and delivered. This is a fic inspired by the song “Boo'd Up" by Ella Mai (YT link below). Also, this is not the 1K follower celebration fic I said I'd work on. That is next. I just had to get this done because it was nagging me and had been working on it for months. It's long as heck. I don't know how y'all do it. Thank you @lovebarefootblonde for looking at this for me. Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 7.2k

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!reader

Plot: Feeling a bit lost, you decide to take a little road trip to find an old friend.

Contains: a lot of playful and flirty banter, protected sex (PiV), oral sex (both M and F receiving), hand on neck, mild degradation (gets calls slut once), mentions of weapons (no weapon play), mentions of canonical MC activities (killings), fluff, comfort

You needed a few days off. Club stuff and other things were getting to you and you just needed to clear your head so you hopped on your bike and just started riding without a destination in mind, picking a random direction and following the wind, just like how you've always lived your life. You convinced yourself that you're just aimlessly riding and that nothing else has influenced where you're going - until you find yourself with a flat at the dirt shoulder with the sun starting to set over the mountains. This isn’t how you wanted it to play out, for this to be the reason to call him, but it seems like the universe made it easier for you.

You search for his number on your phone and are surprised you still have it considering you never needed it. He had given it to you the first time you met, but you never gave him yours and he respected your decision. Again, the universe is aligning it all for you.

You call the number and wait patiently. It's been more than a few rings and you tell yourself to just hang up if it goes to voicemail. Maybe it's another sign and you've been reading too much into everything else before. As you're ready to give up, you hear the line pick up.

"Hello?"

The corners of your lips turn up instantly hearing his voice.

"Hey, Teller," you answer.

There's a moment of silence.

"Holy shit," he says. "Is this who I think it is?"

"Well, that depends. Who do you think it is?" You ask, teasing him.

"The love of my life?" he guesses.

"You gotta be a bit more specific than that."

"The most beautiful woman in all of California who's been rejecting my proposal every time I see her?" he tries again.

"Technically, you've never actually proposed to me, although now I wonder if there's someone else out there you want to be your old lady," you smirk.

"Darlin', there is no one else," he says. "There never was."

"You're a terrible liar, Jax," you smile and bite your lower lip.

Part of you wants to believe him, but the other part of you knows his kind. Besides, it's you who wants to keep this super casual, not him, yet you find yourself right outside of Charming.

"I mean, have I been with other people? Sure. I might be in love, but I'm not a sucker," Jax laughs. "I know I'm not the only one keeping your bed warm once a year."

"Actually..." you start, but you don't think this is the right time to dump your baggage on him. You don't even know if you should. "I need a favor, if you don't mind."

"Sure, what is it you need? Everything okay up there?" Jax asks, concerned.

"Yeah, everything with the club is good. I... I just needed a few days to myself away from all that and I just happened to be around your way and I just blew my tire riding down here so I thought maybe you can send a tow truck? I don't know if it’s too far—" you finally tell him.

"Oh, shit. Where are you? I'll come pick you up right now," Jax says.

"You- you don't have to come. I don't want to stop you from doing whatever it is you're--"

"I’m coming to get you. Where are you?" Jax repeats.

See the full post

241 notes - Posted June 23, 2022

#2

Pretty Face

“You Got This” Masterlist

A/N: Jax is creeping back. I wanted to work on something completely different (in the same universe), but this went a whole different direction so I followed it and wasn't fit for what I wanted originally. I kept this though because I liked where it went. It's short, but It's a cute little moment between "Joyride" and "Eggs, Milk and Sass".

Word Count: 777

Pairing: Teenager!Jax Teller x Teeneger F! Reader/OFC

Plot: Jax takes a small break to annoy you.

Contains: fluff

You're sitting in the open garage at Teller-Morrow, taking your time counting parts for inventory. It's the easiest and most boring task, but you were assigned to it even though you are capable of doing simple services like oil changes, but they leave that up to the actual mechanics and sometimes Jax and Opie. You and Jax typically sneak away to avoid work, but the club is away so TM could use the extra hands. You toss a spark plug into the basket designated for it and let out a heavy sigh. At least you're out of the scorching sun.

You look out and see Jax and Opie working topless with the top half of their mechanic jumpsuit tied around their lower waists. Sweat is dripping down their faces and torsos. Of course, your eyes are focused on Jax and not your brother. You watch as Jax is tightening or loosening something on the bike they're working on with a wrench. Muscles on his forearm and bicep flex with each crank. Jax flips his shoulder length blonde hair back out of his face and looks over in your direction. You look away immediately, nervous that you've been caught. You pretend to continue to work, recounting the spark plugs. A few moments later, you try to inconspicuously look towards Jax and internally panic when you see him walking towards you while swiping a rag over his face.

"Hey, squirt." Jax ruffles the top of your hair.

"Dick." You swat his hand away and fix your hair.

"You got a hair tie I can borrow?" he asks, pointing to the one around your wrist.

"I need this for myself," you shrug and then pull your hair back to tie it while trying to avoid looking at his damp naked chest.

"I see how it is," Jax smirks. He pulls up a nearby metal folding chair and straddles it, leaning forward and resting his arms on the back of the seat.

You continue to pretend to work and as he lights a cigarette. Even though he's not of age yet, the Prince of Charming gets away with doing whatever he wants most times, especially when Gemma isn't around to keep him in line. You glance over at him as he pulls a drag while looking at you.

"What?" you ask.

"Nothing," Jax shakes his head. "I like it when your hair is up. It doesn't cover your face." He leans in and reaches over to push back a loose strand hanging by your eye.

You feel heat rising to your face.

"You're dressed pretty today. What's the occasion? Got a date?" Jax asks, taking your bottle of water that's sitting next to you while eyeing you up and down.

You typically dress very casually, wearing jeans or shorts with a t-shirt or tank top with sneakers, especially while working, but you felt particularly cute this morning so you put on a plaid skirt with a plain baby tee. You've noticed the way how some of your female classmates and the girls you've seen Jax with dressed and thought you might do the same. You're still learning to navigate puberty and your changing body.

"I... just wanted to look pretty," you answer as you watch him chug all the water, focusing on his Adam's Apple moving up and down.

"Well, that's silly," Jax chuckles, taking another drag of his cigarette.

"Why is it silly?" you frown, sitting up and straightening out your back.

Jax exhales the smoke from the side of his mouth and leans into your face. You swallow hard watching his face coming closer to yours.

"Because you always look pretty." Jax playfully bops the top of your head with the empty bottle.

"Stop, Jackson!" You giggle and swat his hand.

"Come on, Jax! Let's finish this shit!" Opie shouts. He swipes the back of his hand across his forehead.

"Yeah, get back to work, Teller," you laugh.

You watch as Jax gets up from his seat and towers over you. He takes one last drag of his cigarette and flicks it away. As he then reaches for your face, you tense up and hold your breath. His hand then goes past your ear and behind your head. Your ponytail suddenly comes loose as you feel the hairband get tugged.

"I'll return this at the end of the day, pretty face." Jax ruffles the top of your hair and then pushes it to one side. As he walks off, you watch his back muscles while he pulls his hair back to tie it up into a small blonde bun. He picks up a wrench and goes back to work.

243 notes - Posted January 13, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Emeralds & Pearls

A/N: So it took me a bajillion years to finally finish this. I had this specific idea and so the fic started strong and than I don't know what happened. I've been a huge struggle writing smut lately which is why you've been seeing a lot of angst and fluff. This didn't quite really pan out the way I wanted but it's finished. Hope you enjoy. Thank you @lovebarefootblonde for beta reading!

Word Count: ~3k

Pairing: Raymond Smith x Wife F!reader

Plot: You kickstart your romantic anniversary night with a necklace.

Contains: unprotected sex (P in V), oral sex (F receiving), fingering, spanking, pussy slapping, crotch-sniffing, light choking, body/partner worshipping?, pantyhose tearing (I think that is all)

Your husband is always lavishing you with jewelry, exquisite dresses and shoes, French lingerie, fur coats and when he can, fine dining, but you’re a woman with simple needs and tastes. All you really want is to be able to enjoy your marriage, but it’s hard when he’s more committed to Mickey Pearson. You know that a lot of him feels guilty for missing out on spending time with you due to the nature of his demanding job so he tries to make up for it by showering you with gifts, but you also know a part of him enjoys seeing you wearing some of those said gifts. You've seen the way he's looked at you when you put them on for him, but there is one thing that drives him particularly feral.

It's your wedding anniversary and you're getting ready to celebrate it while waiting for Raymond. You're sitting in front of the vanity, putting final touches on your face when you hear him coming through the front door. Your perfectly lined eyes dart over at the clock while cleaning up the edges of your bright red lips. It's a surprise he's actually home on time.

"Hi, my love!"

You hear him coming up the stairs and rushing past the bedroom straight to his office, as usual, to drop off the work he brought home.

You quickly scan your face in front of the mirror before standing up from your vanity chair. The thin heels of your six-inch Jimmy Choos hit the hardwood floor with each step you take towards the door. The sound of your steps echo as you take your time to walk down the hall towards Raymond's office.

"Are you ready, my love?" Raymond checks his watch. "I don't think we have too much time left. Our reservations are in forty-five minutes and we need to go across town. You know how the M25 gets around this time."

When you step into his office, Raymond quickly glances up at you for a moment and goes back to what he was doing, but then does a double take. He pauses his task and stares at you expressionless as you slowly put one foot in front of the other. His eyes travel from your cat-lined eyes, to your bright red pout, and then to the pearl necklace he bought you for your anniversary last year sitting just above your naked chest which you display proudly. His eyes darken. Your arms are covered in black satin from the tip of your fingernails up to your biceps. He scans below your waist and his jaw drops a little lower seeing your bottom half wrapped in sheer stockings and your feet in patent leather heels.

He continues to watch you quietly like a hungry wolf as you walk around his desk. You run your gloved hands over his chest as you get closer to him. His eyes drop down to your neck again and he brings his hand up to it, lightly stroking the front of your throat with this thumb. You know it drives Ray absolutely wild to see you adorned in nothing but an expensive necklace. Something about you wearing only something so elegant and precious while he defiles you gets his blood flowing.

You noticed in the beginning of your relationship, Ray would gift you these shiny diamond necklaces and thought he was just trying to impress you, but over time, you caught on to his antics.

"I think I'm a bit overdressed for the occasion," you tell him.

"No, you are perfect," Raymond responds while cradling the back of your neck. His eyes admire every single part of your face as if it’s the first time he saw it. He was so taken away by your beauty, and now he is a slave to it - to you. The moment you said 'I do', Raymond just wanted to make love to you, to his wife, right there and then, over and over again. The marriage license and officiation wasn't enough. He wanted to consummate the marriage and claim you as his wife. It's what makes your wedding anniversary extra special to him. While you may look more or less the same as you did the day you met him, to your husband, you are a goddess and with each day that passes that you are married to him, you become more beautiful and god-like to him.

You can feel the coolness of his wedding band against your sensitive skin. His lips ghost over yours as you lean your head away from his. He tries to kiss you again, but you move away. His other arm grabs your waist and pulls you flush against him, holding you in place before smashing his lips against yours.

Raymond's hand slides down behind you, squeezing your ass, and then he presses his crotch against yours. You can feel where all the blood in his body has rushed to. His lips leave yours and dips down to the side of your neck and shoulder. Taking his time, he kisses you all over, being careful to not disturb the pearls. Although now he's thinking about giving you another one as he's imagining you kneeling in front of him with pleading eyes.

For a man who seemed to be in a rush to leave, he sure is taking his time. He is giving equal amounts of attention to every part of your body, making sure to appreciate and worship every inch of your skin. You let out a small moan when Raymond's teeth grazes your shoulder. He doesn't quite sink them in, gently teasing you, although you know he would love to mark you. He wants everyone to know you are his.

Raymond's hand slips down from your neck to one of your breasts. His large hand kneads it as he continues to caress your neck and upper chest with his soft lips. Your breathing is noticeably heavier and you let out a sigh when Raymond backs you up against his desk and presses himself on you. The edge of the desk is digging into your backside.

"Raymond," you pant as you run your fingers through his slick back hair and neck. 

“Yes, my love?” Raymond hums and you arch against him when he pulls a nipple between his pink wet lips. His tongue swirls around the nub a few times before he completely puts his mouth over it and sucks on it. 

You moan in response. He moves on to your other nipple and repeats the same movements, giving it just as much attention. Your hips thrust into the open space between the both of you, needing some friction.

Raymond moves further down your torso and starts placing butterfly kisses all over your belly as his palms run over your hips. As he continues to kiss his way down your body, his teeth catch on the top of the pantyhose and snaps back up into place after it stretches down a few inches.

You look down and watch Raymond who is now kneeling, hover over your heat. You can feel his warm breath on you. The tip of his nose grazes the front of your stockings and he takes a whiff. He looks up at you as he licks you through the thin nylon. You throw your head back and moan, entangling your fingers in his hair.

Suddenly, he flips you around and you brace yourself on the desk. He pushes your ass up and spreads your cheeks. He shoves his nose and mouth against your hot core. He moans as he inhales your arousal, your intoxicating scent. If he could, he would bottle it up and sniff it all day. His face is pressed so close against you, his glasses shift around as he licks and kisses you through the damp delicate material. His hands knead your ass and he buries himself further as his mouth continues to devour you.

You bite your lower lip and push back, grinding yourself against his face, wanting more - needing more. Raymond then digs his fingers into the thin stretchy fabric covering your aching pussy. He bunches it up in his hands and then rips it apart, forming a large opening, exposing your naked wet slit. He practically shredded the expensive French back-seamed pantyhose.

Raymond goes right back in and sticks his face between your legs. You gasp when you feel his thick velvety tongue slip inside you. You clench up when you feel the tip of his nose poke your puckered asshole. He runs the flat of his tongue from your clit up to your dripping opening before he dips the tip of his tongue back in. He puts his mouth over your cunt and sucks on your lips. 

The obscene wet noises and your pants and moans fill up his office and that’s all he needs to keep him going. Your hips jerk when you feel his fingertips teasing your entrance. You push back again hoping his fingers would slide in further. You feel relief when he slips in two fingers all the way up to his knuckle. You clench around his fingers as he slowly works them inside you. You close your eyes and concentrate on the sensation of the penetration and his lips pulling on your clit. The stimulation is making you heady.

See the full post

294 notes - Posted April 17, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[trancylovecraft]

HELLLO !!

i saw you did yan! paswg stuff on your blog (unless you don’t anymore idrk)

i saw wondering if you could do a drabble/headcannons on brief?

(make sure to take breaks!! and not to overwork yourself :D)

(PASWG) YANDERE! BRIEF ROCK x READER: Need (Drabble)

RECEIPT ✂- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

BARISTA'S NOTE: dw i still do paswg! and thank u so much!! hope u enjoy! FANDOM: Panty and Stocking with Garterbelt

Thank you for ordering!

Come again soon!

"D-Do you need another drink? I can go get one for you!"

"No, I'm fine, Thanks."

"What about napkins..? I'll go get some!"

[F/N] didn't really know how it happened, Not really remembering a specific beginning point for when Brief came into her life. She knew it was in a bang, Quick and sudden, But that was about it.

Ever since that unspecified point in time, He had followed her around like an unclaimed puppy. Always trailing behind her, Lurking around either by her side or around corners.

She could tell where he was by the red of his hair, Unmistakable from within a crowd. [F/N] knew that he followed her around, Knew that he swam after her like a duckling to a mother swan.

It irked her at points too, Especially when he kept asking over and over if she needed something. Did she need more food? Did she want to borrow his jacket? She honestly just needed him to go away.

But [F/N] didn't have the heart to tell him that.

[F/N] watched him scamper away from the cafeteria table she sat at, Her friends chatter like crows cawing together on a wire as they all watched him go. Something demeaning, Something they didn't even hide when he was around.

He never seemed to care though, Always keeping a stable face. And she never had the guts to tell them to stop.

Its not like she could anyways, The amount of friends she had seemed to be dwindling by the day and [F/N] just couldn't afford to let anymore go, Not unless she wanted to be alone that is.

One calling off sick, Another switching schools and ghosting [F/N] on her socials. It was strange, But she supposed all good friend groups must come to and end, That's how it usually worked for her anyways..

Brief pranced back over to the table, A generous amount of paper napkins placed down onto the side of her food tray. A lovestruck smile on his face that [F/N] just didn't seem to catch.

The first time he had taken one of her friends out had been a complete act of mania, Something he had done out of uncontrollable anger.

It was unlike him! Truly! Even after he had bludgeoned her skull in and kicked her body about, He had been terrified of himself and what he had done.

But just like bathing in hot water, It got easier overtime.

The second was planned, Well at least Brief knew that he wanted to kill her. And after the mess he had forced to clean up through his own bubbling tears, He knew he had to be a bit more careful.

Some part of him knew it was wrong, Knew that what he was doing was horrible and irrational to do. But he shoved that part of him away, The end goal to enticing to let be.

[F/N]. She was perfect.

Her hair, Her eyes, Her skin, Her clothing. The way she rolled her eyes when she heard he friends say something stupid, The way she walked home from school saying hello to everyone she passed.

She was just so.. Amazing. How could he not follow her around?

She was an angel incarnate, Not like the Anarchy Sisters, But a real, Proper Angel.

So Brief let it go, Let it all be shoved aside in favour of his own desires. He didn't mind the blood and the guts, The bruises and the bodies.

Not if it meant he got her in the end.

[doodles-psg-imagines]

Since you already covered the two pairs, how about the big one? Could we please get some headcanons about all four ladies having a serious crush on the same person?

(rubs hands together) In the words of Trixie Mattel, you have opened the Pandora Boxx of boxes.

The Anarchy Sisters and the Daemon sisters having a crush on the same person

Darling, darling, darling. How did you do this? What witchcraft is this? More importantly, may I have some?

This is assuming you’re not on either side of the rivalry, so you’re a neutral party who’s only ever seen the angels and demons on the news and dealt with the aftermath of the Ghosts taking out the city.

Panty and Stocking do not play well with others -- least of all with each other. They were already pissed to find that they had to fight one another for your affection, and now they have the chode-munching demon whores to worry about? Hell, no!

Scanty and Kneesocks are definitely more level-headed and civil about their attempts to win you over. As mentioned in the previous post of them having a crush on the same person, they're both very much likely to talk their feelings out with one another when they find out they're both crushing on you and decide to pursue you as a team. In their eyes, why should you only get to have one when you can get the full experience?

Panty and Stocking will go after you separately, each of them showing up to talk to you and try to ask you out. Sometimes they both get the same idea and show up at the same time, which just sparks a bitch fit that slowly gets less passive-aggressive and results in the completely ignoring you to fight each other. Like a harem anime, I guess.

Scanty and Kneesocks, since they’ve joined forces, will go and try to make pleasant conversation with you. They’ll present themselves very diplomatically, trying to show you that, hey, I have a crush on you and my sister also happens to have a crush on you. Wanna date is both?

If you choose the Daemon sisters, you’ll have two very bitter angels. They’ll start out throwing hands with the Daemon sisters more often, and not so subtly bashing you on social media. Eventually they’ll start taking it out on each other. Things will die down, but it’s going to take a while.

If you choose the angels, the Daemons will be bitter, but they won’t take it out on you. That’s not to say their angry streaks won’t come out when they’re fighting the angels, though. Of course, Panty and Stocking likely won’t settle their own fight until you pick one of them to like more.

[notgraceful4]

Being best friends with Panty and stocking

@kurapika-god

Tw: Mild Swearing, Sexual Talk.

Being best friends with Panty and Stocking:

PANTY/STOCKING:

* Being best friends with the both of them you have to witness both of their many fights, sometimes having to get in the middle of them

* For example, when making a point against Stocking, Panty will get you to back her up

* “Y/n, tell Stocking that these crisps our better then her diabetes inducing crap”

* And when you don’t agree with her she gets slightly annoyed about it

* “Wow, you bitch go suck up to Stocking, I’m going out!”

* Now it’s not just Panty who does this Stocking uses you against Panty as well

* “Come on Y/n, let’s go make that whore pay and disturb her right now”

* Each one of them will also trash talk the other one too you when they decide to give each other the silent treatment

* Now when the two aren’t arguing they are actually really fun to be around

* Often dragging you along to various places like the beach and mall

* Will even pick some outfits out for you, so you don’t look like a walking disaster in their own words

* Prepare for Panty trying to get you to hook up with someone else when she takes you to party’s

* Even suggests having a foursome with you, and starts teasing you if you get annoyed about it, saying it was a joke and to chill out

* You get used to Panty’s jokes since going to party’s with her becomes a regular night for you

* Even makes you become her helper in getting laid by making you scope out the most fuck worthy guys

* Will also get your help in finding someone for Stocking to let all her pent up frustration out on

* Says to you that it might make her less of a bitch

* Now with Stocking she usually takes you with her to review some new sweet cafes recommended by this blog she follows

* Won’t let you try any of what she has ordered though, but will beg to have a taste of whatever desert you have

* Don’t bother trying to take any from her plate either because she knows if anything has gone missing

* Might give you a bite if you have done something to really help her, but don’t hold your breathe

* When you hang out with them at the same time you all do stuff in the spur of the moment, nothing is ever planned out

* It depends on who has the best idea that all of you can get on board with is what you all do that day

* It has to be worth getting off the sofa for all of you to do it though

* Speaking of sofa that is where you all sit at Gartbelts place sticking to your own activities, just basking in each others presence when there is nothing worthwhile doing

* Until Panty and Stocking get a ghost they have to go defeat

* Now when they have to go and defeat a ghost they usually just leave you out of the blue since there is nothing that you can do to help majority of the time

* But at times when you just happen to be in the area at the time of the ghost attack they will throw you at the ghost to distract it

* Even if you scold them for it after don’t expect them to stop anytime soon

* Now if your a fallen Angel like them they will bring you with them to help since you could actually be useful with your powers and all

* But don’t start going off on your own since you all work better as a team than alone

* When Brief comes to hang out with you guys they tell you to ignore him since he isn’t worth your time, but won’t do much if you start conversing with him anyway

* The most they would do is drag you away from him if they have a new place they want to hangout with you at

* Also expect loads of complaining about Gartbelt to you since your there best friend, so you should take their side in trash talking him

* Will also let you hold Chuck if you want to and carry him around with you on hangouts

* Don’t get alarmed though if he ends up getting splattered into pieces

* Overall, they consider you their best friend even if they don’t tell you directly.

[dreamcatcherrs]

a concept: george, a cold apartment, a stolen shirt of his, and no bra.

+ I love this concept! hope you enjoy it ;)

cold - georgenotfound

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: georgenotfound x f!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: george has never been happier to see you cold once he feels a noticeable spikiness under your shirt.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 607

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: slight nsfw content! nipple play

song recommendation: sex money feelings die - slowed version

george’s eyes trailed over to you, watching as you stepped out of his bedroom and into the room he was currently sat in - the living room.

there you stood, looking like the smallest human with his shirt falling over your thighs, sleepy expression stuck on your face as you let out a long yawn. after all, it was 2 am by now, but you figured you’d stay up with him till he had to play jackbox with the other guys. he smiled at your presence, awing on the inside at how cute you look all tired and groggy.

“hey there, sleepyhead,” george greeted, throwing his phone beside his spot on the couch as he opened up his arms to you. you walked over to him as you rubbed your eye, plopping onto his lap with your knees on either side of him. you wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your face in the crook of his neck, hugging him tightly. he pulled you closer softy, hands finding a comfortable place on your bottom.

a large smile spread across his face, nudging his nose into your hair and taking in the sweet scent.

“it’s so cold,” you mumbled, shivering slightly in his arms. he dragged his fingers over your thighs, feeling the goosebumps rise up beneath his fingertips. he rubbed his hands along your thighs, trying to warm you up with false hope ahead. instead of wasting more time on that, he went to check the time on his phone.

“there’s still around thirty minutes till I have to go. wanna cuddle to warm you up?” he pulled back, staring into your tired gaze while his hands moved up to your waist. you nodded, blinking to prevent the drowsiness from getting to you, before nestling your head back into the comfortable warmth of his neck, pulling yourself even closer to him, chest pressed up against his.

george’s eyes widened slightly once feeling the spiky feeling of your nipples poking into his chest, pausing his every movement for a moment. even though both of you were clothed on your upper bodies, the sensation of your nipples pressing into his chest was so very obvious.

he felt his cheeks heat up, but continued his previous movements, and lay the two of you down so he was positioned behind you, arms wrapped around your waist and his stubs tickling your cheek. you smiled at the sweet warmth of his body against yours. he pressed a kiss against your cheek, before slowly sneaking a hand up your shirt, pushing it up to reveal your panties slightly.

your eyebrows furrowed slightly, mind waking up a little from the sudden sneaky movements of your boyfriend. “george? what are you… doing?” you trailed off slightly, but once he ran his thumb over one of your hard nipples, you immediately understood. a small sigh escaped your lips, making george’s little heart sing.

“I'm just… cuddling! I don't know what you're talking about.” but the grin you could hear through his voice and the way he said it sure told you something else.

you relaxed into his arms, biting your bottom lip as he pinched your nipple between his thumb and index, twisting slightly before releasing. you couldn’t hold back the small whine that escaped you, the feeling of the slight sting and following pleasure travelling right down to your centre. you were too tired to do anything but lay there and just feel every swipe of his thumb, every pinch of his fingers and any roughness he chose to cause upon your sensitive nipples, until he had to leave to play with the guys.

_____________________________________

tag list✰

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[snarkwrites]

size ➼ o. winston

➼ Before I even start, I wanted to point out that this content is obvs not meant for minors. Credit to @the-purity-pen​ for the prompts which can be found [here]. While I won’t make 31.. I hope to at least make 13.

┇ᵖʳᵒᵐᵖᵗ  ┇

size kink , hints of a sir kink also.

┇ʷᵃʳⁿᶦⁿᵍ ┇

NSFW. Minors DNI. Size kink + sir kink -if that’s a thing?, unprotected sex & dirty talk. This is uh... This is actually my first time writing anything with an actual size kink at play. I hope I did okay with this..

┇ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳ | ᶠᵃⁿᵈᵒᵐ | ᵖᵃᶦʳᶦⁿᵍ┇

Opie Winston x Petite!Shy Reader - Sons Of Anarchy ┇ᵗᵃᵍᵍᶦⁿᵍ ᵐʸ ˢᴼᴬ ᵇᵃᵇᵉˢ;┇

@chasingeverybreakingwave​

@kyleoreillysknee​

@sassymox​

@twistnet​

┇ˡᶦⁿᵏˢ┇

┇everything you're looking for, right here  ┇

Opie Winston is a giant when compared to you. 6 feet 3 inches of muscle and beard. It didn’t stop you from fantasizing, of course. But fantasies don’t often become reality, so you were pretty well content to daydream -and gawk, from afar. Dreamy sighs slipping past your lips quietly when you thought nobody would notice them -or the way your eyes followed him whenever he happened to be nearby.

It went without saying, that as the newly minted office girl at Teller Morrow, you were too buried in paperwork to do much else than daydream and stare. You hadn’t ever quite gotten the nerve to speak to the man and any feeble attempt to do so resulted in a lot of stammering and fidgeting under an amused brown-eyed stare.

Like today.

“I,uh.. Gemma wanted me to bring in the paperwork for that Volvo. Apparently, the owner’s demanding a few additional repairs.” you finally managed to get the words out as you felt the heat settle in your cheeks. You held out the paperwork to a very amused Opie Winston, who took it and quietly sat it to the side. “I make ya nervous, darlin?”

His statement caught you by surprise and that surprise registered with you, blinking your eyes as you tilted your head to gaze up at him. All the while, battling delicious mental imagery.

If you were even remotely close to his preferred type these days, that’d be something. The thought came and went as you struggled for composure. Determined to seem unbothered. To come off as nothing short of professional. “I beg your pardon?”

Opie stepped closer. He chuckled, he muttered something quietly to himself and shook his head briefly, gazing down at you a second or two. Heavy tension thickened the air between you. “I asked ya if I make ya nervous.” he finally repeated.

“No, not at all.” you made a mess of your response in the same way that Opie Winston stepping even closer to you made a mess of your panties. The gasp caught in your throat just a split second shy of escaping. “Opie?” his name left your lips in soft wonder as you felt the way he strained against old denim.

“Funny cos I kinda think I do.” Opie mused quietly as his hands settled on your hips but didn’t stay there long, choosing to skim over your sides instead as he held your gaze intently. Lost in thought. Or maybe amusement, either way… He wasn’t saying anything. He also wasn’t making any effort to step away, either. Your breath came in soft,gasping pants as you desperately clung to your professionalism, the fact that your job was to take care of paperwork and customers out front, not sneak into the garage to sleep with the mechanics, no matter how badly you might want to.

As your mind raced frantically and tried -failing miserably, at making sense of what seemed to be happening, Opie chuckled. A low and almost growling sound that hung heavy and seductive in the air between you both. You’d taken your eyes off of him because the more you stared, the more flustered you seemed to get. You’d chosen to train them on a patch on his cutte instead.

A beefy and heavily calloused finger curled beneath your jaw and tugged your chin upward so that you had no choice but to look him in the eyes. And with a grin, he muttered in quiet wonder something you couldn’t quite make out. Your brow furrowed in confusion.

One hand left your hip and settled across your lower back, locking your petite,curvy frame in place against his towering, hardened one. He gave another amused snort and repeated himself because you’d asked him to.

“Said you’re a tiny little thing, darlin.” Opie’s tone was distracted. Fond and filled with awe and this time around, he wasn’t exactly looking you in the eyes. Instead, his eyes fixed on the way his large and calloused hands wandered over your curves.

As soon as the remark registered with you, a pout played at your lips as you looked up at him. “Ha.Ha.” you muttered as the pout grew. “We can’t all be giants, sir.”

Dark brown eyes flashed. Any other time, you’d have taken that as a silent warning. A cue to make yourself extremely scarce. But given the direction this particular encounter seemed to be heading in, you weren’t entirely sure if it was anger that made his eyes take on a daring gleam.

“Sir, huh?” he muttered, a husky laugh as he gazed down at you. He stepped even closer somehow, filling any shred of space that remained between your bodies with his own and the warmth of him enveloped you like a comforting hug. His hand lowered. It settled on your hip and thick fingers dug into your clothing. You swallowed hard and briefly, you gave consideration to this possibly being Opie’s inner antagonist coming into play. Surely he had to be teasing,yeah?

You pouted again. Gave him another one of those little confused looks.

“Say it again.” Opie demanded, a playful gleam in his eyes as they roamed over you.

“What?” you asked, baffled. Going back over the very few things you had managed to say without nearly choking on or having the words stumble as they left your mouth and then it hit you.

You’d called him sir.

He rubbed his chin as he gave a low,dark chuckle and leaned down. His mouth dangerously close to your own as he spoke. Those thick digits digging into your side even more as he squeezed you almost like he was trying to reign himself in and failing at it. “You know what you called me. Say it again, darlin.”

“S-sir?” you stammered. Dark brown eyes lit up even more and both massive hands settled across your ass as he molded you against him and you melted. Your lower back pressed into something hard. The edge of the workshop table you realized before quickly dismissing the sensation of cold and hard metal that dug into your back in favor of the warmth of Opie’s massive and muscular frame and the way he towered over you. The smoky notes in the cologne he wore. The hint of Jim Beam and cinnamon on his breath and the way that mingled with the faintest trace of cigarette smoke and it all combined to create a scent that was unique to him and him alone and always comforting for you, always your cue to look for him in a crowd or across the bar after a long and slow day.

Until this moment, all you’d managed was the occasional exchange of smiles across a crowded room or the bar. Until now, you thought things would never get past your wildest fantasies.

But now, here you were. Pinned against a shop table in the garage bay with Opie Winston towering over you and his hands all over you. He seemed to be lost in the moment himself, gazing down at you.

“Ya know, I kinda like that you’re such a tiny thing.” Opie’s statement shattered the heavy silence that settled, permeating the two of you. You gazed up at him with a brow quirked. “Y-you do?” and when you stammered, you swallowed hard, instantly wanting to disappear right through the oil stained concrete beneath your heels.

Lot of good those did you, they only provided your 5 ft body with 5 inches extra height. But in light of Opie’s admission seconds before you were heavily contemplating that maybe your height wasn’t the bad thing you originally thought it to be..

After all, he’d just told you he liked it. Without needing to be prompted at all. Just blurted it out freely, pretty as you please.

“Mhm.” Opie’s words were thick and laced with something that had heat creeping into your cheeks as you tried -and failed, again at pulling yourself together. Determined to keep at least part of your composure about you as you gazed up at him and licked your lips. “I like it a lot, actually. Because it makes what I’m about to do a lot more fun, darlin..”

“W-wha-” your words trailed off and you swallowed hard, frozen in place. Oh, he was up to something alright..

The last thin bead of self control Opie Winston possessed snapped and his mouth dove down, it’s unspoken path a direct collision course with your own. Rough lips settled against your mouth and your mouth fell open as a breathy whimper escaped. You found yourself seated on the edge of the table top and Opie quickly stepped between your legs as you raised your arms to wrap around his neck and his hand wandered over exposed thigh. His tongue tangled with yours and one of his hands settled at the base of your head, fingers promptly beginning to tug at your falling braid to pull it free and then immediately tangling in soft strands, giving a tug to guide your mouth into his even deeper. As all this occurred, he raised his other hand and grabbed hold of your arm at the wrist, guiding your hand down to settle and palm at the bulge strained against his jeans and twitching as it continued to grow.

Your thighs clenched. The kiss broke and you pulled apart to breathe as Opie gave a proud smirk while glancing down at your swollen and bruised lips. His cock twitched again, threatening to burst against the seam of his jeans. “Do you feel what you’re doin to me, darlin?” his voice was hoarse and more of a low growl than anything and the things it did to you, god.. You went from wet to dripping and the warmth of your juices as they flooded skimpy black panties was enough to make you squirm in discomfort. But squirming gave you an excuse to get even closer to the giant of a biker and somehow, you wound up abandoning reason in favor of wrapping your legs around his hips. He scooped you forward on the tabletop so that you were more or less being held up by his massive frame.

“Oh, fuck.” you panted when he rutted himself right up against you.

“You wander around here all quiet and shy,  just a tiny little thing. Begging to be taken. Protected. And you don’t even know you’re doin it, do ya? You can’t even tell when you’ve got a man’s full and undivided attention the way you’ve got mine… Fuck.” Opie’s words came in a heated rush as the scruff of his thick beard left a burning sensation against your neck and rough lips latched onto soft skin. Locked in place until you felt blood rushing to the surface. You gripped at the front of his cutte and gazed up at him, your breath shaky.

A hand left your thigh and started to wander up the short hem of the skirt you were wearing. You found yourself glad that you’d gone against Gemma’s constant reassurances that you didn’t have to dress so professionally every single day. Because if you’d been wearing jeans right now, the thought danced through your brain dumbly, Opie wouldn’t have such easy access right now.

The palm of his hand settled against your soaked panties and when he cupped and started to rub it against your throbbing core, you squeezed your legs tighter at his sides and you clung to him, your hips rocking against the slow movement of his palm, clumsy. “I asked ya something, doll.” he mumbled against the shell of your ear with a low and dark chuckle.. “Do ya know what you do to me every single day? Because it’s not just today.”

“N-no. I don’t.” you gasped. Your head falls back as thick fingers dance over your clothed sex and he hisses quietly and gazes up at you, biting his lip again. He leans into you heavily and you pout when one of his massive arms extends, fumbling around for the doorknob to turn the lock. When it clicked softly, you took a few shaky breaths as your eyes met his and he gave you a soft grin as his thick tongue drags over the outline of his lips. He’s leaning into you, brushing your hair out of his way all over again. Your head falls to the side to grant him access.

You can feel it the second that smirk forms against your skin. “You don’t, hm?” he questions as his lips begin to drag right over your pulse real slow and the hand that had been on your hip a few seconds ago finds its way down, settling on your thigh. Slipping between them all over again and as he touches you, a shiver races through your entire body. His hand settles palm down against your throbbing sex all over again and he groans against the shell of your ear as your legs squeeze his waist tighter and you finally bring yourself to look up and keep your eyes on him. “I don’t.” you answer, despite the fact that he’s basically just said it himself and you’ve already told him you didn’t at least once before.

“Do you want to know what you do to me?” he questions just as you’re attempting to train your eyes on the way a broad chest strains against a black tee shirt. Again, just like before when you tried to look down because you just couldn’t keep staring and be expected to process what was apparently about to happen at the same time, he raises a hand and rests it against your neck, rolling his thumb over your cheek as he stares down at you intently. “Answer me, doll.”

“I do.” you gasp out the word more or less because he’s started to massage your dripping sex all over again and you can feel yourself getting wetter. The ache that settled in minutes ago has gone from dull to urgent.

Like the only way to stop it is to have him buried balls deep inside of you. Now.

The thought prompts you to lower your hand and you’re palming at the way he’s strained even harder against those old jeans of his. He growls and bucks himself right against your hand and your clumsy rubs only make the hand settled against your sex grip tighter. Rub harder, making sure to give you just enough pressure and friction to get you rocking against his touch just like he wants you to do. His fingers slip between a completely drenched and flimsy fabric barrier and he bucks himself against your hand harder. More urgently as his fingers work you open and start to pump in and out, stretching you just the slightest because it’s been a while. Your head falls back and a silent hiss fills the air as you get used to the way his fingers work you and fill you and your brain to mouth filter is gone now, flooded with too much dopamine to keep your thoughts to yourself.

You work the zipper down on his jeans and your hand slips inside, circling his thick member and you moan at the way it feels in your hand, -warm, thick and veiny. “So..” you gasped as your head fell back and connected lazily with the wall behind you in a soft smack, “So big.”

Opie could only chuckle, -a growl ripping from his throat shortly after, his fingers speed up and your juices really started to coat his fingers. He leans in against you heavily, his mouth dancing over your pulse. “You like that, hm?” he asks the question and his eyes fix on you expectantly.

“Yes. Fuck.” you snap yourself against the pumping motions of his long and thick fingers. Your hand’s movements are looser now. Clumsier because Opie knows exactly how to work you. Your stomach’s coiled tight, a slow and lazy heat filling you.

Like you wish his cock was filling you, stretching you out. 

Before you realize you’ve said it out loud, you’re begging in whimpers as you move against his fingers faster, chasing the friction you crave so bad you’re aching and about to fall apart. “Now. Opie, please.”

Opie’s answer is a quiet chuckle as his fingers slow their movements. “You sure about that, darlin?” he asks the question with a smirk.

“Yes. Now.” the words rip out of you in a frantic gasp as you try to rock yourself faster against the way his fingers fuck into you. He pulls his fingers out, his hand raises and you whimper with your eyes glued to glistening thick digits as they slip between his lips and he groans as if you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted in his life. He’s stepping up to you all over again. Towering over.

 Leaning down as rough lips brush right against your ear and he takes hold of your hand, prying it away from the way you’ve got it wrapped around his thick length. “Now, huh?”

“N-now.” the word is shaky when it leaves your mouth. You’re clinging to him and you manage to pry the button of his jeans loose. He gives another chuckle and steps back just a little. Motions for you to spread your legs wide for him and he lowers himself to watch you drip and see the mess he caused before letting his hands drop to the waistband of his jeans, tugging down jeans and boxers with one swift movement. Then he’s stepping back between your legs again. Scooping you forward on the table so that you’re fully reliant on his sheer strength to hold you up instead of having the table as a support. “Okay, darlin, you asked for it.”

His cock pushes in and you tense as you feel yourself being overstretched. He stops. It’s to let you adjust to how thick he is and the way he over fills you, but while he’s not moving and he’s just partially buried inside of you, he’s peppering soft kisses against your skin. “C’mon, darlin. It’s not gonna hurt long at all, I promise. I know you can take all of me.” he mumbles as the pain subsides and you cautiously start to rock yourself over the way his length pushes into you. “It’s okay. I gotcha, doll.” he mutters smooth as silk, his mouth latching onto your neck. Leaving yet another mark. His cock sinks in just a little further and he goes still all over again the second he feels you tense a little more.

Your mouth hangs open and he groans as he’s now completely buried inside of you. You’re clenched around him so tight it takes everything in him not to bust already, he takes a few deep breaths and laughs softly against your skin. His fingertips dig into your ass where he’s got his hand planted to keep you up. “C’mon, darlin. Easy now.. Just rock those hips real slow.” and you do as he asks, but soon it’s too hard to keep the slow pace. You crave more. Friction. Anything to dull the steady pulsing throb of your pussy. He grits his teeth as you start to rock against his steady thrusts and his grip on your body goes from tight to bruising. 

“Opie, fuck. Oh.” you’re moaning loud enough that anybody outside the garage can hear exactly what’s going on inside but neither one of you really care. You cling to his body, melting against him as dots dance in your vision. You’re right on the edge all over again and tears of frustration sting at your eyes when he seems to pick up on it and slows down to an almost standstill as a result.

Brown eyes drift down and settle where your bodies connect and he groans, watching intent as you take every inch of his cock, clinging to it. The more he stares, the more he realizes he can see where the tip reaches because of the way it pushes up against your lower abdomen and this combined with the wet slosh and the way your velvety walls cling so perfectly to his thick length to milk it drive him right over the edge. He’s pumping into you at a steady pace now, a thick thumb teases circular motions at your clit. Your moans are louder.

When he bottoms out and smashes against your cervix over and over again it’s all you can do to just lean against him and cling, taking him. Your nails dig into thick biceps and squeeze and this only serves to get you fucked into harder. Faster. Until you’re shaking and begging and Opie’s gazing down again, watching the way his cock disappears into your cunt with each stroke, watching as it pushes against your abdomen from the inside. “Darlin, -ah fuck.” he pants against your skin. “Opie, p-please.”

“Please what?”

“Wanna.. I..” you stammer, your cheeks flaming up all over again. It’s always been so hard for you to get vocal, any attempt at being filthy in the past only turned into a hot mess. Opie chuckles as he tilts your chin, making you look him in the eyes. Making you focus on him.

“Words, darlin. What do you want, hm?”

“Fill me up.” the whimper does something to him and he’s pounding away at you. Groaning against your neck. A hand settles on the base of your throat as he fucks into you deeper. Faster and steadier with absolutely no intention of stopping until he’s throbbing, you’re shaking and tearing up, your own orgasm shattering through seconds later as the full body ache begins to settle in. He lowers himself to watch the way he’s filled you, grunting and glancing up at you as some leaks out. A smirk plays at his lips until he sees you grimace as you try to sit up.

Then he scoops you off the table and into his arms entirely and he laughs while whispering against your ear, “ I gotcha, baby. I don’t mind carryin you around today. Kinda always wanted to.”

[hangovercurse]

Masterpiece

You and Colson have always had an unspoken agreement about what your relationship is, but one night might change everything.

Request: Hi, thank you for your imagines, love, they're incredible! I had an idea. Maybe when him and reader are getting close he gives a tour of his tattoos to them, cause the reader is very curious?

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of sex (nothing explicit but it’s there), a lot of touching

A/N: I had to do so much research for this, I’ve spent the last 48 hours staring at pictures of his chest. I know I didn’t include all of his tattoos, but he hasn’t talked about some of them or even shown them all that much.

Word Count: 3744

The only sounds in the room were your heavy breaths, mixing with his. You took a moment to compose yourself, the adrenaline still running through your body, before sitting up, bringing the comforter with you to cover your bare chest.

You scanned the room, looking for where your clothes had ended up in Colson’s mad rush to undress you. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Colson asked, his eyes wandering your body.

Heat rushed to your cheeks. You turned to look at him, a small smile playing on your face. “Careful there, someone’ll think you have feelings.”

He chuckled, reaching out to grab your waist and pulling you back down to the bed. You laid in his arms, head resting against his chest. “You should stay tonight.” He mumbled, fingers running up and down your arm.

You hummed, “Are you asking me to stay?” You looked up at him through your eyelashes, and he swore he almost fell in love right then and there.

You had never stayed the night before, you always just went to his house, fucked, and then left. Staying the night seemed too personal for what you were doing, two lonely souls finding solace in the dark but too afraid to face each other in the light.

“Will you stay the night?” He asked, fighting the urge to press a small kiss to your nose. You nodded, shifting so you were cuddled further into him, your left hand tracing the 1990 tattoo that spread across the left side of his chest.

His skin felt like it was on fire underneath your touch. “If you keep doing that, we’re not gonna be sleeping anytime soon.” He looked down at you, a smirk on his face. You let out a small laugh through your nose, dropping your hand to lay on his chest.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, “I just think they’re really pretty.”

“I think you’re really pretty.” You rolled your eyes, but a smile found its way to your lips. “Lemme show you all of them.” He sat up, pulling you with him. He reached over and flipped on the lamp beside his bed before pointing to the Est. 1990 tattoo that you had been tracing. “This one is pretty self-explanatory.” You giggled lightly.

“The raven I got done to cover up an older tattoo a while ago. I wanted something that would change the way everything looked.” You reached up, about to trace the dagger that went through the raven, before pulling your hand away. Colson smiled, grabbing your hand gently and pulling it up to his chest, silently asking you to trace the ink.

“Why the dagger?” Your voice was soft, but sincere.

He chuckled; you felt his chest move under your hand. “Thought it looked cool. I don’t know, the whole point of the raven was to be a change, so I guess it kinda represents killing an older version of me.”

You nodded, your hand moving down to the hourglass that rested below the claws. “That one just kind of looked cool. And it’s a reminder that we’re all living on limited time, so we should make the most of it.” You bit your lip, smiling at the thoughtfulness he put into all of them.

“And the spider?” You giggled, tracing his nipple and making him flinch.

He grabbed your hand, a tight-lipped smile on his face. “It goes with the bus.” He moved your hand to the red double decker bus beside the spider web. “Have I ever told you about the time I got hit by a bus in Manchester?”

Your eyes went wide, looking up at him with concern. He laughed, “It was like, 8 years ago. Don’t worry.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes dramatically, “I wasn’t worried.”

He laughed before continuing, “I got hit by this bus while crossing the street looking for weed at like 7 am. The windshield shattered like a fucking spiderweb; it was crazy. And then I just got back up.” You traced the stick figure that was flying off the bus.

“Sometimes I wonder how you’re still alive.” You joked, your voice still quiet.

He watched you intently, taking in the movement of your fingers around his rib cage. “I do too.”

“I mean, I’m happy you’re still alive, its just a little crazy.”

“Careful there, someone’ll think you have feelings.” He echoed a joke you made earlier. You pushed on his chest lightly, smiling. “This one,” he moved your hand to sit just under his armpit, “is the final scene from The Giving Tree."

“That was my favorite book as a kid.” You mumbled; your attention fully focused on the tattoo that you missed Colson’s adoring smile. “Why’d you get it?”

He was quiet for a moment, and you looked up to catch his pale blue eyes. “At one point in my life, it felt like I was giving away every part of me. I felt like the tree, I still do sometimes.”

You nodded, still holding his gaze. You leaned down and pressed a small kiss to the tattoo. This was the most intimate thing you and Colson have ever done, even more so than sex. He was opening up parts of himself to you, something you both had tried to avoid until now.

You looked back at the ink, smiling as your eye caught the tattoo on the underside of his right arm. “Jessica Rabbit, really?” You giggled.

He chuckled, raising his arm to show you the full tattoo. “She’s hot, what can I say?” You rolled your eyes. “You’ve never seen a cartoon character and thought, “damn, he’s sexy as hell”?”

You shook your head, holding back a laugh. “I wouldn’t get him tattooed on me.” He pulled you into his chest, arms wrapping around you. “I wanna keep talking about your tattoos.” You whined, looking up at him.

“I was trying to enjoy the moment, but okay.” He made a face at you and you giggled, leaning into his chest and resting there for a few moments, basking in his presence. You had been scared of moments like these with Colson, and you knew he was too. After Megan, he’d had issues trusting anyone, not that you blame him. But then he’d found you, and you had trust issues of your own, so naturally you two attracted each other while simultaneously keeping each other at arm’s length. But now the distance was closing ever so slightly.

You leaned off Colson, suddenly aware of the change occurring. “I gotta pee.” You mumbled, climbing off the bed, and walking to the en suite bathroom.

“Your ass looks cute.” He called after you, and you blushed when you remembered you were still nude. You took your time in the bathroom, sorting through your thoughts and reminding yourself that you and Colson only existed after 9pm.

When you walked back into the room, you grabbed your panties and pulled them up your legs, then threw Colson’s shirt over your bare chest. He groaned, “you just wanna cover everything up, don’t you?”

You rolled your eyes and climbed back into his bed. He was leaning against the headboard, so you moved to do the same, but he grabbed you and pulled you so you were straddling his lap, facing his chest. His left hand grasped your right, pressing a soft kiss to its top before moving it to his right arm.

“This one reminds me how to get home, literally.” He rested your hand on his 71 North tattoo, “but it’s also a reminder to stay grounded. Always remember where I come from, you know?”

You nodded, tracing each letter and number. “Same thing for the 216 East.”

“What about the compass star?” You whispered, hand moving down to his elbow to trace the seven-pointed star.

“I was gonna get there, don’t rush me.” He joked, pulling his right arm across his chest so you could see the ink better. “It has an E at all the points, because all roads lead back to Cleveland, which is East.”

“That was really cheesy.” You giggled, looking up to his face. He rolled his eyes, his right hand grabbing your free hand and intertwining your fingers. He pulled both your hands up and out, forcing you closer to him. Your faces were close, too close. You were worried he was going to kiss you, and more worried that you were gonna let him. He seemed to realize what he was about to do moments before your lips touched and pulled away, letting your hands go.

You looked down, both of you pretending that didn’t just almost happen. “What does this one say?” You whispered, pointing to the text on his right forearm.

He looked where you were pointing, and smiled sadly. “RIP B. Arnold. I got it after my grandma died. She was probably one of the best people I’ve ever known. She was so open and unjudgmental. She was really special.”

You frowned, “I’m so sorry. I had no idea…” You trailed off, still running your eyes over the letters.

“It’s okay, I got this done a long time ago.” His voice was soft, his eyes watching your face as you studied his painted skin. “But thank you.”

You were quiet for a long time, eyes moving over the other tattoos on his right arm before wandering back to his chest. Your pointer finger ran over the Locals Only tattoo and the Anarchy symbol on his stomach, before moving lower to the “Almost Famous” letters. “If you go any lower I’m gonna get way too distracted to tell you about the rest.” He joked, but you knew he was a little serious.

“That’s the second time you’ve threatened to have sex with me and not followed through. It’s almost like you don’t even want to anymore.” You teased, hands running back up to his chest and resting on his shoulders.

He raised an eyebrow at you, as if you challenged him. “Do you want a tour of my tattoos or not?” You nodded, a laugh falling from your lips. Colson shook his head lightly, looking down at your body in his shirt. “You are something else.” He mumbled under his breath. You were pretty sure you weren’t supposed to hear it, so you pretended you didn’t. You also pretended your heart didn’t flutter at the words.

You moved back from him, eyes scanning his rib cage. “What about this one?” You asked, pointing at the portrait of a man holding a sign that read “Keep your coins, I want change.” You traced it, smiling, “I like it.”

“That’s one of Banksy’s works. The political street artist?” You nodded your head, letting Colson know that you had heard of them. “I thought it was really smart and I like what it means a lot.”

You smiled up at him, admiring the way he lit up when he talked about issues that are important to him. “I like it, too.” Your hand moved up, finding the cursive name a few inches above. You were hesitant to trace it, knowing it bordered on the line of too personal.

“That one’s got a pretty obvious meaning.” He chuckled, seeing where your attention was focused. You smiled, nodding. “You should meet her one day.” He said without thinking.

Your eyes snapped up to his, and you could see the wheels turning in his brain as he realized what he said, “or not, if you don’t- I mean, you don’t have- never mind. Forget I said anything.”

You found his stuttering endearing. “If we ever get to that point, I’d love to meet her.” You whispered, trying to hide the smile that nipped at your lips. Stop it. The voice in your head screamed. This would never work out. You’re just going to get hurt.

Your hand rested on his upper arm, where he had an image of a building with an eye above it. “1984, huh?” You asked, the smile breaking through.

Colson couldn’t help the way he looked at you, stars in his eyes. “You’re one of the only people to ever get it without me telling them.”

“I didn’t expect you to be an Orwell kind of guy.” You chuckled, tracing the eye with your thumb. “It’s really good. I love the cracks in the building and all the shading. It’s beautiful.” Your voice held so much awe, Colson had to stop himself from grabbing your face and kissing you until your lips bled.

He hadn’t felt like this since, well since Megan. And that scared him like hell considering how messed up he was after she left. He’d been afraid to let anyone else in after that, which is why he was so grateful he found you. You were in the same position, you wanted someone to fill the space in your bed but nothing more. But as he spent more time with you, Colson realized he was starting to want more than that.

“I really liked the idea of the people versus this big overbearing power. Like I wanna believe that people still have a say in their lives, that I still have control over my life. Even when it feels like I don’t.” Despite all the stupid shit he did, Colson was incredibly intelligent, and it showed in moments like this.

“That’s amazing.” You breathed, still tracing the cracks in the bricks. A small blush made its way to his cheeks, and he turned his head away from you to hid it.

You flipped his arm to look at the inside, finding the words “Kiss the sky” in black ink. You leaned down, pressing a light kiss to the words. Colson’s head snapped towards you at the sensation, a small chuckle leaving his lips when he realized what tattoo you were kissing. “Cute.” He commented.

You smiled, lips traveling down his arm to the black heart. “Let me guess, you got this one to represent your cold, black heart.” You chuckled, rolling your eyes as he frowned, playfully.

“You’re so mean.” He whispered, biting his lip. “I did, actually, but you make it sound lame. I wanted to say something about the industry with it, how cold it made me.”

You nodded, smiling. “That’s not lame.” You paused, considering your next words. “Do you really feel like that? Like your soul is so dark and cold that there’s no more color inside?”

He studied you, the way you slowly traced the outline of the anatomical heart. “Sometimes, but then I look at Casie or Slim, or any of the people who I love, and who love me, and it gets a little easier.”

“You’re lucky,” you whispered, “to have so many people who love you. People that can pull you out of your head.”

You sighed, moving your attention from the tattoo, and shaking yourself out of your thoughts. His hand reached for your jaw, trying to hold your face but you moved away, looking at his rose tattoo. “This one’s pretty cool.”

He had to lean forward to see which one you were focused on. “I got that one after Bloom. It’s all about becoming a flower from a bud.”

“Yeah, it’s really good.” You sighed, moving your hand up to a red line near his heart, a tattoo of a cut. “What’s this one?”

He threw his head backwards, a laugh leaving his lips. “It’s so stupid now. I got it because I felt like someone ripped my heart out a few years ago. I thought it was really smart at the time but I ended up getting over it and now I’m left with this stupid tattoo.”

You giggled, “I don’t think its that stupid.” Emphasizing the word “that.”

“Here,” he sat up, moving you off his lap and leaning forward so you could see his back, “this is a cool one.”

You had seen the tattoos on his back a few times, but you’d never really gotten to study it. “This is beautiful.” You murmured, reaching out to touch it gently. He flinched under your soft touch, goosebumps forming on his skin. “Sorry.” You whispered, removing your hand.

“It’s okay, your hand’s just cold.” He chuckled. “It’s Dali’s Temptation of Saint Anthony.” He started, and your hand went back to wandering his back. “A lot of people interpret it differently, but I like the idea that the man with the cross is repenting for his sins. Reminds me that we always have a chance to become better people. We can always repent.”

You took in his words, not saying anything. You traced the cross in the figure’s hand, a small smile on your face. “And then, the MGK, of course.”

You rolled your eyes, “Only you would get your own initials tattooed across your back.” You chuckled, jokingly. “It’s really well done.” You reached up and rubbed his shoulders, squeezing gently. “Someone’s tense.” You whispered, feeling the stiffness of his shoulders.

He groaned as you gently massaged his shoulders, moving to sit behind him with your knees on either side of his waist. He leaned his head back onto your shoulders, looking up at you. “You are too good to me.” He mumbled, pressing a kiss to your neck.

You chuckled, leaning down to graze his lips, “I’m not doing this for free.” You mumbled, connecting your lips in a hot, needy kiss. He shifted so that he could twist his upper body to face you, taking your bottom lip between his teeth. You moaned into his mouth, hands moving up to his neck and pulling him closer to you.

He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. “I thought you wanted to see the rest of my tattoos?” He asked, a smirk on his face.

You rolled your eyes pushing him away from you and moving back to his left side, sitting with your legs tucked under you. “I do, but I can’t help that I’m in your bed and you look fuckable right now.” You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his neck, just below his ear.

“Let me finish the tour and then maybe I can help you with that.” He rubbed your bare thigh as you sucked on his neck, leaving a mark.

You whined when your lips left his skin, a pout on your face. “What’s this one, then?” You asked, hand tracing the two X’s on his ear.

“It’s part of the MGK brand. C’mon, you should know this.” He laughed, obviously messing with you. “I don’t know it just kind of became our symbol after 19XX was created. It’s the family.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to the black ink. “Cute.”

He blew air out of his nose, hands moving to the sheets that were covering his lower half. You raised an eyebrow at him, tilting your head. “I have two more that I wanna show you on my legs, get your mind out of the gutter.” You giggled as he pushed the fabric to the side, exposing his right leg.

You noticed the obvious tattoo, the marijuana leaf on his right knee. “That one’s really creative.” You said sarcastically. He chuckled, watching you trace the words around it. “Into the woods I go, to lose my mind and find my soul.” You read the tattoo out loud, biting your lip to hide the grin on your face.

“John Muir. I thought it was really meaningful. I keep digging my own holes in order to crawl out of the ones I’m already in. But I think it’s made me know myself better.” You looked up at him, your eyes shining bright. His eyes met yours briefly, and then flittered away, cheeks turning pink.

“Okay, last one. It’s not nearly as cool as some of the other ones, but I think you’ll appreciate it.” He pulled his knee towards his chest, angling the limb so you could see the tattoo on the inside of his ankle. It was two stick figures, one with a mohawk.

You smiled, “Radiohead but make it Colson Baker.” You mumbled, shaking your head with a giggle.

He nodded, “I was fucked up when I got this one.” He laughed, “But it’s kinda grown on me.”

“I was expecting some big lead up to like, the final tattoo that was gonna be so special. Instead, you give me two stick figures and the word punk on your ankle.” You chuckled, seeing the small pout on his face. “I’m kidding.” You laughed, moving to sit on his lap again, your hand resting on his chest.

“Thank you,” you whispered, hands running over his chest, “for showing me all these.”

“I’ve never really explained all of them to anyone before. Like people can see them and I’ve talked about some of them in interviews, but nothing like this before.” His hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

You looked down, biting your lip. “Why’d you show me?”

He bent his head down to catch your eyes, nose rubbing against yours. “Cause I wanted you to know.” You smiled, meeting his gaze. Your hand reached to the back of his neck, pulling him enough that his lips crashed into yours.

You were expecting the kiss to be sloppy, hungry, but instead it was unlike any kiss you’d ever shared with him. It was sweet, soft, and oddly personal. It said all the things Colson was too scared to speak.

You pulled away, confusion lingering behind your eyes. What does he mean? What do I mean? What are we doing?

His eyes seemed to hold all the answers. I’m terrified to want you, but I can’t stop myself.

You leaned back into him, kissing him softly. His hands hesitantly ran up your sides before moving to your cheeks, cradling your face in his hands. “Let’s get to sleep.” You whispered after separating, a smile on our face. You gave his lips a quick peck before climbing off of him.

He turned the lamp beside him off, encasing you in darkness. You laid down on the bed, facing away from him. Moments later he settled down, facing your back. He reached out and pulled your hip so that you were facing him. You got the hint and flipped over fully, a grin on your lips. Silently, he pulled you closer to him, holding you tightly as you drifted off to sleep for the first time together.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

you+me+the Devil, m | myg, jjk | summon

pairing(s): yoongi x reader x jungkook

summary: The Devil and his right-hand demon are forcibly yanked from Hell to encounter a power they've never seen before, a power that everyone thought was only a rumor. In chains and unable to break free, they are asked to give up part of their souls. And they do. For science. But, mostly, to fuck.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language - if you're religious, maybe skip this one; world building; short graphic descriptions of sexual acts; supernatural and horror (and it gets way creepier during the smut, you have been warned); non-idol!AU - Hell!AU; Devil!Yoongi x chaos!reader x Devil's right-hand demon!Jungkook and switches between their POVs; they don't have your best interests at heart and neither do you.

--

you and me and the Devil makes 3 prologue | the summoning | the collection | 666

-

there’s not a word for what i wanna do to you

One second, the Devil, also known as Min Yoongi, was frowning as he gazed up at his right-hand demon Jeon Jungkook, pondering the whereabouts of the missing soul-shards. The next second, the volcanic ground below him exploded, multiple giant red-black rings adorned with symbols and images creating a circle, expanding a larger and larger surface area, crackles of red lighting and tendrils of black smoke shooting everywhere. It consumed everything, bleeding into every nook and cranny of the throne room, saturating the air with summoning intent. It was happening far too quickly for the Devil to stop, the ground splitting and black chains shooting out, surrounded by a deadly ice-silver signature of the kind of magic you don’t bring home to your mother.

“Fuck–!”

That was Jungkook.

“Ah.”

That was the Devil.

The black chains snapped around their bodies and bound them in an instant. Jungkook snarled and fought with all of his power, black wings flaring out that were instantly crushed and shredded by the enchantment, his curved black horns protruding from his head and being forced back by the power. In contrast, the Devil merely sat there. Yoongi knew he couldn’t stop it, not this kind of magic, if it could even be called that, so he didn’t try. He let the chains wrap around him and shackle him. Instead, he furrowed his brow and tried to trace the source, tried to find the purpose. In order to defeat an enemy, you must be informed. Yoongi lived by this philosophy, which was why he was the Devil.

He could not trace it.

That was very disheartening.

But he didn’t need to worry earlier, because the red-black summoning circle was closing in, and he would find out very, very soon who it was. He had nothing to worry about.

Yoongi was the Devil, after all.

-

You inspected your nails.

Matte black, pointed. You had just done them. You liked to look nice for your guests.

“Hm, the Devil works hard, but I work harder,” you chuckled.

-

This was not what the Devil expected.

Yoongi expected a dark cave, a crowd of hooded figures, lots of candles. Maybe a Bible or a Koran. Devil worshippers, Satanists, cultists, or whatever they liked to call themselves. He fully expected to fight, to kill, to maim, and to fucking enjoy it, because he was the Devil and he served no one.

That was the whole fucking point of leaving Heaven in the first place.

He did not expect this.

You.

“Oh? A new development.”

Yoongi had seen many things in his time. He thought he could no longer be surprised.

He was wrong.

You stood over the two figures chained to the ground, peering curiously at them. A plain black dress with a flared skirt and a lace high collar. Long-sleeved with small ruffled cuffs at the end. No socks or shoes, just long, beautifully sinful legs and pretty feet. Pointed, matte black fingernails at the ends of lovely hands. A single nail was on one of your full dark lips, small amused smile dancing on that pouty mouth.

Your nail pressed into your flesh.

Yoongi wanted to shove his dick into that mocking smirk.

Sharp, distinctive eyes. Unforgettable. Yoongi would not forget the eyes of the fool who summoned him anyway, but your eyes… They were different. They held no malice. No innocence either. No, your eyes were the greatest mystery of all.

They were an enigma, revealing nothing to the one who could tell everything.

Yoongi did not like this. He did not like how him, an all-powerful being, one who could poison the minds of all other beings, was being confronted with a human who seemed very not human.

You were holding something on the crook of your arm. He narrowed his eyes. A black plush goat-man with horns and an upside-down red pentagram stitched on his head. It had little leather hooves for feet and hands. Black leathery wings as well. Another common misconception of the Devil. As if he wanted to be an ugly goat for all eternity. Hmph. But there was something about the way you held it that made Yoongi think it wasn’t an homage to him.

No, you held it close to your breast, next to your heart, squeezing the plush goat-man’s little arm lovingly.

It made him ache with longing.

They were in a bedroom, on the floor next to the bed. Black sheets, fluffy blankets with white stars all over them. Black walls with posters all over them, cute animated characters, haunting imagery, various musical artists, sinful and innocent, a vast plethora that told him nothing of true intent. Modern, sleek furniture. A high-end desktop with multiple monitors. A nice flat-screen television. Many soft plushies of adorable and strange characters, stacked on shelves and in corners, both popular and niche.

Who was this person?

With every passing second, Yoongi was liking this situation less and less.

Jungkook was beside him, disheveled and disoriented, chained down with black. The demon sat up, growling in his chest, trying to exert his power.

“Who do you think–”

“Ah, little Satan, they shouldn’t talk until I allow them, isn’t that right?”

The Devil was not a fool. You were not talking to him. You were talking to the little goat-man in your arms. Yoongi heard a choking sound and he turned his head to see a very large black ball gag ramming itself in between Jungkook’s teeth, snapping closed with a black chain strap behind his pretty head. Jungkook looked livid, trying to bite through it, but Yoongi doubted he could break it.

You smiled at him.

Yes, indeed, Yoongi was liking this situation less and less.

In some ways.

Seeing Jungkook in a ball gag was a pleasant image.

“I didn’t expect it to turn out this way. I was aiming for him first,” you said to Yoongi, lowering the little goat-man and holding him by a hoof. Yoongi wasn’t sure if he wanted to rip apart the plush or be it. He decided that wasn’t important right now.

“Ah, well, this might be better,” you mused nonchalantly. Jungkook was still fighting his restraints, but neither you nor Yoongi acknowledged it. You crouched down, a delicate flash of inner thigh and black velvet panty in his view. Yoongi narrowed his eyes. You cocked a brow, smirk widening. “Two birds with one stone, no?”

You set the little goat-man in front of him.

Sat down, spreading your legs to squeeze the little goat-man with your inner thighs.

There was no question now.

Yoongi wanted to both be the plush goat-man and rip him to shreds.

“I’ll let you speak to me, Devil. You seem polite.” Conversational, calm. Not condescending, which somehow made it worse. At least if you spoke to him with hostility, he would know how to turn it against you.

“You have magic that doesn’t belong to you, human,” he said softly, a raspy renounce in his voice. He festered it with sweetness and warning at the same time, accenting it with a discerning stare.

You grinned.

Even he, the Devil, was unsettled.

“Nothing belongs to anybody. You only borrow it for a short while and then the powers far beyond even you take it back.”

Yoongi felt his heart drop and race at the same time. As he suspected. This was not the work of his father or some a wayward demon. Magic, power, illusionism, these were all words to describe things that could not be described. Entropy holds no bounds and there is no meaning behind it. It exists only to cause anarchy. For some reason, perhaps simply chaos alone, you, a human, was in possession of something even he could not control or understand.

Shit.

He stared into your eyes and they reflected his expression back to him. He tried to search for it, the desires within the heart, the small tendrils of pain that asked to be soothed, the soul begging to be freed. An ordinary demon could be fended off by a strong-willed human for a while, but Min Yoongi was no ordinary demon.

He was the Devil, even if he was bound by your chains.

You tilted your head at him, hair curling around your cheeks and lashes.

Yoongi could take even the weakest flame of desire and stroke it into a blazing fire. Even the holiest of saints could not fight him. Everyone wanted something, even if it was, disgustingly, in the name of his father. And humans, well, they were the masters of wanting things they couldn't have. Easily manipulated, even by each other. The Devil hardly needed to do anything at all. It was only a matter of whether or not Yoongi cared to do it and, most of the time, he didn't give a single shit.

You tilted your head the other way, smiling.

Yoongi did not find a maze or a barrier preventing him from the soul. He found the soul within seconds. It was there, all right.

The Devil just didn't know what the fuck he was looking at.

Why was your soul just you sitting there in the abyss, looking up at him with the same smile you were giving him right now?

And why did he feel nothing emitting from it?

He pulled back, looking into your eyes again. He did not like this.

You leaned forward and touched his horns.

His eyes widened as your fingertips brushed against the large curved black-red horns against the sides of his head. He hasn't even realized they had protruded. How? His horns were a sign of his power, a symbol he used for fear, for appearance, and for the moments of when he was exercising a great deal of his influence. Your fingertips brushed against the second set, the ones that bloomed upwards into wicked black-red spikes. Both sets? His soul-search had him reflexively procure both?

Shit.

He started into your eyes, seeing himself reflected back. Min Yoongi was the Devil. Emotion was no stranger to him. He harnessed it all, consumed himself in the passions and wonders of emotion. There were ones he felt less, simply because of who he was. For instance, there was not much that made him afraid.

You smiled.

Fear. He could feel it rise within him.

Yoongi grinned back.

Was this what he thought it was? He had heard of such things, rumors and whispers, even amongst the angels themselves. The hidden truth that Heaven and Hell belonged in a specific dimension or realm, Order. That there was another realm, the mirror, the reflection trapped, the unknown.

Disorder.

His kind, the high-above, and those between angels and insects, the humans, none of these belonged in the realm of Disorder. There were rumors that Order was merely a concoction of Disorder and that their realm could collapse any moment, erasing all of existence without a trace. Entropy was waiting for them all.

Yoongi understood now.

This was chaos.

The Devil was a master of desire. And a master of deliberately doing exactly what he shouldn't. He should not be tempted by a glimpse of chaos. His father would warn him to stay away from it.

His father could fuck right off.

Yoongi leaned forward, still bound, his horns disappearing. The chains clanged around him, his power rattling underneath. He wasn't doing it to fight them. He wanted to feel it. To understand what could not be understood, to touch the untouchable, because it was there, there right in front of him and he wanted it, he wanted it, and the Devil feeds off desire, even his own.

He wanted those lips.

You backed up.

The denial only made his desire stronger.

You left the plush goat-man sitting there right in front of him.

-

Jungkook was pissed.

Absolutely furious, jaw and head aching from this ridiculously large ball gag, fuming that he had no idea what was going on and that a single human was doing this bullshit. There was no way you were working alone. There had to be other beings behind this. He couldn't figure it out right now, but he would and he would tear them apart, right after he fucked your pathetic human body and tore you apart.

You must be a fool, thinking you could shackle him, Jeon Jungkook, the right hand of the Devil himself, the epitome of pure sin and free will.

He continued fighting the magic, trying to exert his strength, rattling the black chains, ice-silver lashes beating him back down. He tried to release his wings, but they were ensnared, pain shooting up his back. Jungkook cared not for pain. He had felt pain for millions of years. A few seconds was nothing. He tried to release his horns, but he could not, as if the very air neutralized him.

He was enraged.

Maybe would simply kill you so he could spend an eternity torturing you for your insolence.

Then the Devil's horns appeared.

How did he–?

Then you touched the Devil.

Jungkook wanted to scream.

He did, deep in his chest, muffled rage, jealousy, hate, all at once, and both of you ignored him, your fingers grazing Yoongi's horns, fucking smiling, looking unflinchingly into the Devil's eyes, and Jungkook wanted to erase you from existence, destroy every single shred of your soul for not groveling at the feet of Min Yoongi.

The horns disappeared and your hands hovered around Yoongi's head, fingers splayed out around the black hair like a shining halo.

Ironic.

The Devil leaned forward.

Don't you fucking kiss her, hyung!

But you moved away, backing up, gaze lingering on Yoongi before closing your eyes and reopening them slowly, a gradual shift to Jungkook's face.

He snarled at you through the gag.

He had you now. Eye contact and Jungkook could exert at least part of his power, the soul-search to find your deepest desires, your hidden gems, the calamity within that would call to him. He would find it and manipulate it, bend you to his will, turn you into his puppet. Play with you until you begged to die, only to find yourself in his arms once more, his plaything for all eternity.

All he had to do was find it.

You slid to your hands and knees, crawling to him. He felt it inside his chest, his own desire, watching the curve of your back to ass, his cock twitching at the sight, his mind conjuring images of your pretty body on a leash. Jungkook didn't have preferences when it came to bodies. A body was a body. In his hands, all bodies became prettier. You already had the base and he already had the wrath to want it. You stopped in front of him, the black skirt of your dress flaring out. He could see parts of your bare body.

Legs, knuckles, knees.

A small, amused smile on your lips.

Eyes that Jungkook searched valiantly, looking for malice, for innocence, for desire, for the darkest shadows and the lightest light.

Why couldn't he see anything?

This must be part of your magic. No matter. Jungkook had other ways. He was creative and cunning. You would break under his hand. He wouldn't stop until it was done. He was a demon that saw things through, even to his detriment.

His jaw was suddenly released from its prison, ball gag disappearing, fading into ice-silver smoke. He coughed, snapping his teeth, glaring at you.

"You dumb bitch," he hissed, violent resonance in his voice, oppressive and intense. "Do you think you humans are above us with your tricks and schemes? Kneel before those who invented such things."

You tilted your head.

Yoongi chuckled beside him.

Jungkook's brows furrowed. What–?

Your body trickled down like liquid, laying against the dark wood floor, looking up at him. Jungkook froze, maddening desire rising, infuriated at your face looking up at him, plush dark lips parted, hands on your chest, fingers spread out and molded to your flesh under the plain black dress. Sinking in, making him clench his jaw.

Your smile like a Cheshire Cat, eyes reflecting his rage.

Jungkook wanted to straddle your face and shove his cock into that smirking mouth, bulge your throat and cheeks with his girth.

"Is he always like this?" you asked, still not looking away.

"He pretends to be nice when he wants something out of you," the Devil answered calmly.

"Isn't that you?"

You still didn't look away from Jungkook. Why couldn't he find what he needed from your eyes?

"I'm always nice."

"That means you always want something out of someone."

Yoongi laughed, raspy and deep, the sound echoing in the bedroom, filling it up with his sound. Why couldn't Jungkook find it? His rage began to become infested with something else. Your eyes reflected only him.

Like a mirror.

No matter. The demons had other ways.

"Come here," Jungkook purred.

"I wouldn't do that."

That wasn't you. That was the Devil.

Your body lifted as if it was on a string from the center of your chest, fingers and black fingernails trailing against the dark hardwood, head tipped back, the line of your neck hidden by the high collar of lace, shielded from his hungry gaze. Legs curling up, skirt pooling around your thighs, his rage molding with carnal need, festering with something else.

Fear.

You rose to your knees, in prayer position in front of him, almost as if you were about to reach out and touch faith. Jungkook furrowed his brow, watching your presence near, wanting it, ready to coax or rip your desires from your lips themselves. It didn't matter if he was bound, it didn't matter if his black suit was torn up and ugly, it didn't matter if he was bleeding from his efforts to escape this magic.

You were still a human.

He was a demon and he would taint you.

Closer, your lids lowering, entranced by his spell. Jungkook smirked. Too easy. Humans were so, so easy. He craned his neck, lips parting, the palpable lust of his breath exhaling. So close to those pretty, dark, fuckable lips.

"You're really falling for it, hm?"

Jungkook paused. His eyes shifted to Yoongi. The Devil had turned his body to watch, clad in a tailored black suit. In contrast, Yoongi's was unmaimed, as he hadn't fought his restraints. The Devil had black hair like him, parted slightly, with shadowy dark brown, cat-like eyes that glinted with something sinister. Pale skin, almost luminescent. Exposed neck, elegantly laid black silk tie, unlike Jungkook, who preferred not to wear one. Lips that demanded you to plead for your life.

A body that made Jungkook want to sin for him.

That was the power of the Devil.

His eyes shifted from Yoongi to you, who had stilled in front of him. Hands beneath you and knuckles pressed to the floor like an obedient pet. What was Yoongi talking about? He had you right where he wanted you. And yet, he hesitated.

Then you spoke.

Delicate and calm, with no resonance. Human.

"I thought demons had free will?" you whispered. "That not even the Devil could control a demon."

Or was it?

Jungkook watched your lips form the words.

"If he is powerful enough, that is."

-

Yoongi didn't bother warning Jungkook anymore.

The Chaos knew what it was doing.

Clever girl.

-

Jungkook growled, leaning back a little, letting the passion of emotion course through him, wrath, lust, pride. Fear. All of it. Drawing from it, his power pulsing, singing through his muscles.

"Come here, human."

You had to crawl into his lap, his thighs against your thighs, hardness against softness, bringing your lips to his, sudden and sweet with your legs, knuckles, knees. Jungkook smirked, white teeth and canines flashing, urging you to him.

"What a good little girl,” he breathed softly. “I can be anything you desire. All you need to do is tell me."

Your eyes locked with his.

"A kiss, please."

He groaned at the small plea, finally getting it out of you, finally, and he would make you regret doing this, sow every seed of desire within you and reap it all, turn you into his pet on a leash. All he had to do was kiss you.

Jungkook kissed you.

He pressed his lips to yours, ravenous to consume what you had, eager to claim his offering.

You smiled against his lips, a small, amused smile.

It was instant, his hunger to your plushness, the rush euphoric and wild, immediate lust and power dominating him and now he could taste your tongue and fling open the doors, clawing for the soul within, the moment so close he could taste it, taste your moan sliding into his throat, his favorite treat, intoxicating in the way you sucked in his breath to fill your longs.

Jungkook arrived at the last gate, tearing through the door. Looked down into the abyss, triumphant.

You looked back up at him from below.

A small, amused smile.

A nothingness like he had never felt before.

Jungkook's eyes snapped open and widened, staring into the reflective glass of yours, his chest constricted. He had never felt this. Your lips still on his, tongue flicking, taking his breath, and then he felt a strange kind of compression, like everything was being pressurized, tighter, tighter, suffocating, and he gasped in your mouth, recoiling.

The kiss broke, your eyes still on his, lips shiny with his saliva. Your hand was outstretched, hovering in the air, fingers coated with black tendrils mixed with ice-silver, right above his chest.

Your eyes, void of anything but himself.

“What…” Jungkook breathed, hard cock straining against his slacks. “Are you?”

He didn’t understand. You were only a human. Only a human who had done a very stupid thing, summoning the Devil and his right-hand demon to your bedroom. Just a stupid, foolish human. You tilted your head. Lowered your hand and placed both hands on Jungkook’s thighs. He tensed. You pressed your fingers into his slacks, kneading the firm flesh underneath.

Where was your fear? Your malice? Your innocence?

Where was your desire?

He could only feel his own, rising, rearing its beautiful head, teeth bared and ready to strike as your fingers drummed against the fabric of his pants. You had tried to take something from him in midst of the kiss.

Part of his soul.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. “What do you want?” he hissed, forceful and direct.

You stopped moving your fingers. He wanted to scream in dismay.

“Only a small thing.” Your lips curved into a gentle smile. “A token to remember our fateful meeting.”

Now, only now, did Jungkook not like this.

You removed one hand from his leg and Jungkook clenched his jaw, watching it rise, nearing his heaving chest, the black chains spreading apart, links snapping with ice-silver sparks, but he was still bound, still chained, and he did now know why and not knowing infuriated him. You stopped, right above his heart, the heart he forgot was there sometimes.

The true irony of this world was that angels gave up their hearts to serve the one above and demons kept them to serve themselves.

Jungkook felt it again, the compression of his insides, making his breath hitch and his teeth grind, the sensation unbearable. Your expression remained the same, the small, airless smile. Eyes reflecting his terror.

“I could take it just like this.”

Not a threat, only a statement. Only a testament to the power within you, a power that Jungkook was beginning to think wasn’t something he knew or understood. The Devil could take souls. He could reap them, he could tear them, he could wring them dry. But not like this.

“I will give you a choice,” you murmured, hand retreating, releasing him from the uncomfortable pressure. “Because everyone deserves a choice, don’t they?”

The chains were lessening, slowly slipping off Jungkook’s body.

“I’ll let you give it to me willingly.”

Your hand on his pants caressed the fabric.

“If you have the power to take it,” Jungkook snarled. “Why not take it?”

Your other hand found his other thigh, squeezing lightly, sparks of heat flying through his veins. The chains slid off him, clashing into the hardwood floor and turning to ice-silver liquid that faded to nothing.

“I do not want to take.”

You stopped your touches and Jungkook wanted to scream.

“It will feel better for you if you give.”

He raised on eyebrow. “Considerate of you.”

You smiled wider. He stared into your eyes and only saw himself.

“What do you think, Jeon Jungkook, the Devil’s right-hand man?”

He felt the tendons on his neck tense, expression twisting into anger. You shouldn’t know his name. You were a human. You would only know if he told you directly. Someone else was behind this. Someone who wanted to kill him and the Devil, thereby putting Hell itself in imbalance.

“How do you know my name?” he seethed.

“You told me.”

What?

“When you looked into her eyes, you told her your name,” confirmed a deep, cavernous voice.

Jungkook started, whipping his head to the Devil beside him. No longer chained, simply sitting lazily on the ground, one knee raised to rest an elbow on it. Yoongi raised an eyebrow.

“Getting soft, Jungkookie?” the Devil taunted.

How…? Was he so absorbed in his own lust and deceiving you that he did not realize? He looked back at you. Your eyes lowered to his slacks and then back up to his eyes.

“Pants can always come off.”

Jungkook raised a hand, running it through his black hair, jaw set. “You are too greedy, human. Do you even know what you’re doing?” he sneered.

Your hands jerked down a few centimeters closer to his crotch, making Jungkook hiss. Your tongue slid out, feathering against the plush dark mauve of your lips. His cock throbbed with need, demanding to abuse the mouth presented. You leaned forward, putting more of your weight on him, welcome weight that Jungkook wanted all over him. He was a demon, after all. He was no stranger to carnal desire.

“I do,” you murmured softly. “You and me and the Devil makes three.”

Jungkook sharpened his gaze. “You couldn’t handle that, human.”

You said nothing.

You simply removed your heat and turned to the Devil, where Yoongi held the little goat-man plush by a single hoof, dangling it next to his lap, making your crawl into it to reach the doll. It was almost an innocent gesture, the way you took it and tucked it into your lap before looking up at Yoongi’s face, lips parted slightly, nearly curious, childlike awe decorating your features.

Jungkook growled like a hurt animal.

Your eyes shifted to him, looking at him under lowered lashes. Dismissive, vacant gaze.

“Yes or no, Jeon Jungkook?”

“Yes.”

The thin black string between you and him darkened, searing with ice-silver, a contract made. He didn’t even know the terms. He didn’t care. No human could outsmart him. And you, you must have been human once.

The problem was, Jungkook didn’t know if you were human anymore.

-

Yoongi watched your eyes return to him. The little black goat-man plush was tucked between your legs, pressed against your core. Slowly but surely, he was understanding. The original vessel was human, now tainted by someone, something, or simply bad luck. It made you something else entirely. You were a creature from the realm of Order polluted by the realm of Disorder. How long could this last? Would you die eventually from it? When you died, what would be left? Was the soul still there? Would he be able to collect it? Contain it? Study it?

Yoongi didn’t know the answers to these questions.

He wanted to know.

“Your turn,” you whispered to his chin, warm breath against his skin. “What is your answer, my Devil?”

Yoongi chuckled. “A shard of soul is all you ask for?” he purred. “What for?”

You tilted your head. “I want to complete my collection.”

The Devil doubted that. He doubted you wanted anything. Something was driving the entropy in a direction, a purpose given to the original human you long ago, and now you did it because it was the only thing left in the shell, a memory of a purpose, the human determination so strong that it could not be killed or erased, even though this body was now only a container for the power within.

The Devil had spent a lot of his time lately doing nothing. Nothing fun, nothing exciting, nothing worthy of his attention. Yoongi already knew everything there was to know about humans. He cared not for those above. But this.

This was new.

This was different.

This was something he wasn’t supposed to know.

He raised his hand, fingers tracing your jaw, staring into the eyes of Chaos. The Entropy. The Vessel.

You.

“I’ll be part of your collection, little one,” Yoongi purred.

And you will be mine, he vowed as the black string between you and the Devil glowed, ice-silver magic contaminating it with the power of Disorder.

-

part ii the collection. if you get in bed, someone will fall in love

--

masterpost

[trancylovecraft]

MASTERLIST

Blue Exorcist (Manga/Anime)

Yandere Platonic! Demon Kings x Reader: The Blood of an Unwilling Covenant (MASTERLIST)

Yandere! Lucifer x Reader: Headcannons

Yandere! Lucifer x Half-Angel Reader: Headcannons

Yandere! Lucifer x Reader: Radiance (DRABBLE)

Yandere Platonic! Arthur A. Angel x Apprentice Reader: Headcannons.

Yandere Platonic! Demon! Arthur A. Angel x Okumura! Reader + Exwires: Headcannon

Yandere Platonic! Shiro Fujimoto x Reader, Rin and Yukio

Yandere Lewin Light x Reader: Headcannons

Yandere Lewin / Lucifer x Willing Reader: Headcannons

Cyberpunk: Edgerunners

Yandere! Lucy Kushinada x Reader: Headcannons

Death note

Yandere L Lawliet x Reader: Headcannons

Yandere Light Yagami x Reader: Headcannons

Demon Slayer

(Yandere Platonic! Kokushibo x Sister reader)You, Shibou. I, Kokoro: MASTERLIST

Yandere Kokushibo x Sakura Loving Oiran! Reader: Renewal Season

Yandere Kokushibo x Moon Hashira Reader: Headcannons

Yandere Kokushibo x Reader: Sandalwood (DRABBLE)

Yandere Muzan x Albino! Reader: The Light Side of the Moon

Yandere Platonic Giyuu x Mean Older Sister! Reader: Headcannons

Yandere Gyutaro x Reader: Headcannons

Yandere Shinobu x Half-Demon Reader: Headcannons

Yandere Douma x Reader: Headcannons

Hazbin Hotel

Yandere! Lucifer Morningstar x Eve! Reader

Heathers

Yandere! JD x Reader: Headcannons

Helluva Boss

Yandere Striker x Reader: Headcannons

Yandere Striker x Drunk, Flirtatious! Reader: Headcannons

Yandere Mammon x Girlfriend Reader: Headcannons

Moral Orel

Yandere Clay Puppington x Reader: Headcannons

Yandere Clay vs Bloberta x Reader: Headcannons

Yandere Bloberta Puppington x Reader: Headcannons

Yandere Platonic Nurse Bendy x Reader: Headcannons

Yandere Platonic Stopframe x Reader: Headcannons

Original Work

Prologue Draft

Panty and Stocking with Garterbelt

Yandere! Panty Anarchy x Reader: General Headcannons

Yandere! Brief Rock x Reader: Need (Drabble)

Scott Pilgrim Takes Off

Yandere Matthew Patel: Alphabet

Yandere Ramona Flowers: Love Letter

Yandere Roxie Ritcher x Reader: Cheater! (Drabble)

(FULL FANDOM LIST ON MENU!)

[doodles-psg-imagines]

It’s absolutely wonderful to see you back, but may I ask something a little special? My birthday is coming up relatively soon (18th of feb) So I wanted to ask if you have any headcannons for celebrating birthday parties For giant man like me? If this can be done, any character you want will be suitable… Thanks for coming back onto my feed my friend! With much appreciation-Cannonball

Absolutely! I couldn’t decide which character, so I did the leading ladies! Happy birthday!

(Romantic or platonic) The Leading Ladies celebrating their s/o’s birthday

Panty Anarchy

Honestly, she might forget about it at first. Days on Earth just sort of... blend together for her. ...or so you thought.

Turns out, since this is her first real relationship, she’s gone into overdrive to make sure she doesn’t mess this one up. She’s marked down your birthday on all her calendars in big red letters, and as the day draws near, she has to try harder and harder to hide how nervous she is. What if you don’t like the party? What if you don’t like what she gives you. Hell, what if she can’t think of anything to give you?

When your birthday arrives, she makes sure someone can keep you out of the church while she sets up the party. Stocking and Garterbelt are actually pretty impressed with how little she’s thinking about herself for once, so they offer to pitch in. This ends one of two ways -- her accepting their help and getting things done in a timely fashion, or her yelling that she doesn’t need any help and failing to get things done as fast as she wants.

When you get back to the church, you’re not surprised at what you see, but rather the amount of effort that Panty put into trying to make this a party you’d like. Reasonable amounts of alcohol, enough food for everyone, games that aren’t sex games -- it seems so out of character for her. She spends the whole party worrying that you don’t like the job she did, and then you pull her aside and give her a big hug, thanking her for the work she’s done to make your birthday great. She’s in a much better mood for the rest of the night after that.

Of course, at the end of the night, when you guys go upstairs, she gives you Part 2 of your big birthday present. It wouldn’t be a Panty Anarchy party if she didn’t. ;)

Stocking Anarchy

Did someone say birthday cake

If Stocking is the one in charge of your party, there will be so many cakes and cookies and sugary punch that you’ll get diabetes the second you step in the door.

In all seriousness, Stocking will provide other things for the party as well. But instead of doing it all from scratch like Panty, she’ll browse around Daten City for different amenities. Things like venues, party supplies and the like. Actually, the cake is the only thing she made herself. She’s canonically a good cook, so she wants the best part of your party to be from her.

Not too big on gift-giving, but she’ll make an exception for today. However, you’ll have to tell her what specific thing you’d like for your birthday, or she’ll just find something she thinks you’ll like. That can go either very well or very wrong.

If there’s any birthday cake left, she gives it to you. No, she doesn’t offer it to you. You are taking this cake home whether you want it or not. It seems like a really stubborn thing for her to do, but Stocking sharing sweets with anyone is a huge sign of trust.

Scanty Daemon

Even if you’re a private person, everyone’s going to know it’s your birthday. Why? Because Scanty is so excited that she all but shouts it from the rooftops. Her soulmate is turning another year older, and she’s elated that she gets to spend another year of your life with you.

She’ll do anything you want, because today’s all about you! Want a big party? She’ll have the venue booked and catered in a matter of minutes with her political connections. Want to go to the club? She knows some great spots. Feel like staying in your pajamas and watching horriblly-made movies? She’ll be right next to you on the couch making fun of the actors with you.

You don’t need to worry about her forgetting your present. If anything, she’ll get you too many presents. Her funds aren’t the issue in this case -- it’s that she can’t decide what you’d like best, so she gets you a bunch of stuff as one huge gift. Kneesocks gets on her about this, and eventually gives her a talk about how, if you two really love each other, you’ll love the gift so long as she put some serious thought into it.

She ends up giving you something small with a lot of meaning: a nice trinket from the museum where you two had your first date, the book you fell in love with in high school but could never seem to locate afterwards, things like that.

Kneesocks Daemon

She doesn’t have a big opinion on birthday parties. She thinks that they’re loud and a bit unnecessary to boot. She’s all but content to just spend the day with you and let you know how much you matter to her.

I feel like she’s the type of person who would take you to a spa or a resort for your birthday. She takes “birthday pampering” very literally in this case, so she takes you to the finest spa this side of Daten City. You two get the five-star experience, and afterwards you get together with your circle of friends for a small gathering.

She’s fine with birthday cake so long as the party has some moderately-healthy options to balance it out. (I feel like both Daemon Sisters might actually try to bake you a cake themselves -- using ingredients from Hell.. It can either look horiffying and taste great, or exactly the inverse.)

Somehow, she always knows exactly what gift you would want, even if you haven’t told her. Spoiler alert: she had Fastener do some snooping a few weeks before the big day. You don’t know if you should be touched or a bit concerned that she had no qualms about looking through your stuff.