#I DIDN'T EVEN NOTICE UNTIL LIKE HALF AN HOUR OF PAINTING IN

[rosysugarr]

PAINTING ON THE WRONG LAYER INCIDENT. MILLIONS DEAD. MANY MORE INJURED.

[covetyou]

stupid cupid

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: oral sex (f receiving), unprotected P in V, a few ass slaps, sex toys (butt plug and a dp dildo), anal play, anal sex (with a dildo), double penetration, creampie, vague fluff and emerging feelings (gross), the wings stay ON. word count: 5.2k summary: Joel makes a return to your home, this time with another gift to give. Will you be his Valentine?

A/N: he's here. he's back. baubles joel, big bawl joel, the holiday king himself. and yes, yet again something that probably shouldn't be a series is becoming a loose-fit series because I just can't quit.

I guess you can all be my Valentine's if you'd like and we can smooch and hold hands and stuff, idk (I love you 💛) gorgeous V day divider by @saradika-graphics

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics

You didn't expect to scream the moment you entered your bedroom after a long day at work.

Of course, you had wanted to scream all day. First, when you spent the morning fighting with a piece of software that just did not want to work. Then, when you watched your colleagues trickle out of the building well before 5pm, all on their way to romantic dates, while you were stuck in your seat making up for your - and their - lost time this morning. And when you finally stumbled from the building at 8pm, only to sit in traffic for another fucking hour? You may just have let a furious squeal escape your throat as you gripped the steering wheel.

As you finally pulled into your driveway, the only things on your mind were a hot shower and takeout food.

The first part had gone without a hitch. Mostly.

Stripping off your work clothes before you'd even got to the bathroom, you hadn't noticed a single thing different about your home. As you tossed your clothes into the hamper, nothing was amiss. Stepping under the hot stream of water, you felt totally at peace for the first time that day. There was a kind of serenity to be found in your own bathroom that didn't exist anywhere else. No, nothing was unusual at all.

And then you'd loosely wrapped a towel around you, not bothering to dry yourself, and crossed the short distance across the hall to your bedroom. You weren't to know you never closed the door this morning when you left - that was 14 hours ago, afterall. Sunset had long since been and gone, so how were you to see anything, or anyone, where it shouldn't be until you sleepily flicked the light on after closing the door behind you.

So, naturally, when your brain finally registered DANGER - INTRUDER you screamed, almost dropping your towel in the process.

And that's where you still are, locked to the spot, fight or flight truly fucking off from your mind entirely, as you stare straight ahead.

There's a man on your bed. A very familiar man. His hulking figure splayed across it like some kind of fucking renaissance painting, naked as the day he was born, except for the fairy wings strapped to his back with elastic and... is that a bow and arrow? And a pacifier?

"Santa Joel?"

Joel rolls his eyes, pulling the pacifier from his mouth with a pop.

"I ain't Santa. Does this look like Santa to you?" he says, with a sweeping broad gesture down his body. He decidedly does not look like Santa. You're not sure what he looks like, and you're not sure you care when you can't help but notice he's at half mast already. Dragging your eyes from his crotch, you look at his face, somehow sweet and angelic even with his dick out.

"Okay, well... what are you?"

Looking at you in disbelief, he slaps the pacifier down onto the bed before swinging his legs over the edge to sit upright. Only, now you're not so sure it's a pacifier. It looks like a - but why was he sucking on it?

"Ain't it Valentine's Day? I'm Cupid, stupid."

"Cupid Joel?"

"Cupid Joel. It really that difficult to work out?" With a lopsided grin he picks up the bow, miming shooting you, before resting his elbows on his knees. The soft trickle of water down your body feels more and more like you're melting by the second. A practical stranger like Joel shouldn't have been able to do this to you the first time, but the fact he was here again, charming and suave, despite the nudity and criminal activity, told you all you needed to know. You were painfully and woefully attracted to him and you would do just about anything to have a night with him again.

"Well, Cupid Joel, you broke into my house. Again."

He ignores you, lounging back on your bed and spreading his knees wide, picking up the - yep, that's definitely a butt plug - again and sucking it into his mouth. Removing it with a flourish, he looks you up and down, a question in his eyes before looking to his own cock, now much harder than it was a moment ago.

"Different guy, you said that was Santa Joel." You can see him holding back a laugh, and you'd be tempted to wipe the smirk from his face if you weren't rooted to the spot. "Anyway, that guy told me he didn't see any pictures when he was here, guessed you didn't have a Valentine. Figure everyone deserves some lovin' on the big day," he says with a shrug and a quirk of his mouth. "So, here I am. Your very own Cupid, if you'll have me, 'course. Don't gotta stay, I can leave if you want me to."

You didn't want him to leave. He'd broken into your house again, and you were exhausted, but seeing him lie there, naked in your bed with the evidence of his little dress up game strewn around him, stirred things in you. If he was willing to give you some lovin' then who were you to turn that down. You're only human, after all, and it is Valentine's Day.

So, you do the only logical thing in that moment and drop your towel without another thought.

"'Atta girl," Joel chuckles patting the bed beside him. "C'mere, got you a present."

Incredible, if slightly strange, sex with a stranger, and he bought you a present? Suddenly the day isn't feeling quite as shit as it was an hour ago, and damp and naked, you approach your bed. You're close enough to him now that you can smell him again, that soft oaky smell throwing you back to the twinkling lights of Christmas Eve. You didn't know any more about him now than you did that night, really. Though, truth be told, you hadn't tried too hard to find him. You had a good time, and the soft lit fantasy of Santa Joel was something you enjoyed exactly as it was. Unveil the man, and you threatened to ruin that fantasy. But a night with Cupid Joel? That could be a new fantasy altogether.

"S'not Christmas any more, don't remember ever having to sit on Cupid's knee to get a Valentine," you murmur, sitting back on your heels as Joel's large hand slides up your thigh. You watch as it moves from your knee to your hip and back again, fingers gently teasing your sensitive inner thigh on the way down. The only hands that had touched you since Christmas were your own, though you had spent night after night imagining his all over you. You were starting to think you'd fallen asleep at the wheel and this was all some wonderful stress dream.

But then he presses a soft kiss to your knee, the scratch of his facial hair rubbing just enough to let you know this is all very, very real and you'd very much like more of it.

"Ain't gonna make you sit on my knee for it. Might want you to sit on somethin' else though."

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "Real smooth, Cupid."

And then he's smiling up at you as he leans forward to kiss your thigh, then your belly, pushing you back with one large hand until you're laying beneath him, spread bare and open as he makes his way back down to your thighs.

It's so easy to get lost in it. The soft scratch of the scruff on his chin, rough fingertips moving gently across your thighs, soft lips pressing and sucking delicately on you, catching the last specks of water from your skin with each pass of his mouth. Your eyes drift closed just as his breath ghosts across your mound, another soft kiss soon following, and another, and another.

Until, blissfully, his soft mouth connects with your clit, tongue peaking out to swipe across the sensitive bud. It had been so long since anyone had gone down on you, long before you made the move to Texas last year, you'd almost forgotten what it felt like. Stuttering for a while, you're about to feebly mumble how good it feels, but all thoughts grind to a halt when he sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning before softly releasing. You had never had a man moan eating your cunt before, and now here you were, fairly certain angels were real and you'd gone to heaven, taken there by Cupid Joel and his wings.

"You always this late home, or did you have a date that went to shit?" he mumbles around your clit. It's a small sneaky way that he asks, wanting clarification on something he was almost certain of but you had yet to confirm. There were no pictures in your house, but that didn't mean there wasn't anyone in the picture.

Shaking your head, you gasp out a response. "Work - work went to shit. Ohh."

"Bad day?"

"Yeah, it - fuck, Joel."

It's then that you take your first opportunity to look down and see him between your legs. His hair looks even fluffier, his hands pushing your thighs open while his fingers pull you apart at the seams. His eyes closed, lashes fanned against his cheek, tongue softly lapping against your center, gusts of his hot breath billowing against your mound. He's beautiful.

And he's still in the fucking fairy wings.

A laugh primes itself, ready to explode out of you, but another firm lick sends you reeling, head hitting the mattress with a thud. Whatever he's doing to you, whatever this fucking day has done to you, you're going to come, and fast.

"Cu-Cupid Joel. Don't fucking stop."

Joel stops mid-lick, earning a frustrated moan from you, eyes widening from where he looks up between your thighs. "Already?" he asks in disbelief, noticing how quickly your legs and cunt have started to twitch.

"Stupid fucking cupid, don't stop, please."

His mouth finds your clit again and he's devouring you, lapping quickly against your cunt as your squirm into him, hips rocking your cunt against his tongue. Another day you'll wonder if it was his tongue or your movement that got you there, but right now all you know is the thick syrupy feeling in your veins as an orgasm quickly rockets through you, a strangled moan leaving your throat as you fist your sheets in your hands. You've muffled him, your thighs clamping around his head as he pushes further forward, tongue buried in your folds until you can't take it any more and you're desperately pulling away from him.

When you release your grip on his head, he gasps, cursing into the plushness of your thighs. Sitting up, he looks down at you, the bedroom light illuminating him from behind, making the wings glow on his back like your very own heavenly creature.

"Wanna see your present now?"

The fog in your head has barely cleared, your ears still fuzzy as you take in his words. Somehow a tongue on your pussy wasn't your Valentine's gift from Cupid?

"Wha - that wasn't it?"

"Nope."

"Is that it," you say, letting a thread of hope feed into your voice while you nod to where his cock hangs heavy between his legs.

"Not exactly, but you can have that too if you want it, darlin'."

You don't know what you expect, but Joel reaches over and picks the butt plug from where he'd discarded it on your bed earlier, and holds it out to you.

"Don't know if you're into it but," he holds the plug out to you, base first. The pink glass looks so delicate in his fingers, and it takes a twist of his hand for you to see it, but the heart shaped base of the plug soon becomes clear to you, brain foggy as it is, and you laugh, the sound bubbling out of your lips as your head tips back, laughing so hard you can feel your tits shake.

"You had that in your mouth."

Joel shrugs. "Better now than after it's been in your ass."

"Why're you so sure it's goin' into my ass?"

Got him, flashes through your mind when you watch his face drop. You don't let him suffer for long.

"I'm fucking with you. You're tellin' me you broke into my house but didn't go through my shit? I got three in the drawer over there."

"Three?!" he says in faux shock, rolling you over onto your front and grabbing at your ass cheeks. He pulls them apart, the cool glass in his hand pushing into your cheek as he tugs you open.

You shriek, swatting behind you as you laugh again. "Joel- what the fuck are you doing!?"

"Checkin' where you keep these three assholes."

"I'm lookin' at one asshole right now."

Now it's his turn to laugh, a deep rich sound that has your toes curling and your pulse sky rocketing, pulling you out of it with a gasp when he slaps a hand down on your ass only to watch it ripple with the impact.

"So, do you want it in?"

"Mhm, I have lube in the bedside table."

A rummage later, you wait, kicking your feet in the air, resting your chin in the cup of your palm. When he turns again, he sees you waving your ass from side to side, ready for him. Slick is coating your pussy, your upper thighs glossy with it too.

"That a present all for me?"

Pulling your cheeks apart again, he kisses each one, lightly nipping on the soft flesh as he does. And then, without much warning, he burries his tongue between your spread legs, licking a thick stripe from your clit to your asshole, groaning with every lick over your tight ring. Fisting the sheets, you press your face into the mattress. If he's going to keep doing this before he even fucks you, you're going to come again and fall asleep before he can get inside you.

"I thought this was a present for me, you're acting mighty excited back there."

"It is. Never said I wouldn't get anythin' outta it though."

A cool trickle of lube drizzles into your crack, quickly spread by Joel's large finger. He teases for a moment, circling your tight hole a little before gently pushing in.

"Fuck."

Moaning in agreement, you almost speak to agree, but then his finger is gently fucking your asshole and all words fail you. Coming just a moment ago did nothing to stop the need you had for this man, the feeling in your core growing tenfold as each moment passed.

"Fuck, Joel, put it in my ass and fuck me already."

The strangled noise from behind you startles you, and you look back for a second to see Joel's eyes pinched together and his head thrown back as his hand grips tightly around the base of his cock, wings falling forward over his shoulders as he desperately tries to relax himself.

"You can't say shit like that to me, darlin'."

"Then stick it in me, stupid."

Fingers slick with lube, he strokes the plug, before sliding the cold tip across your hole.

"Wanted go slow. Wanna watch you take it."

With a soft push, he presses the tip forward, watching as your hole accepts the cold tip with ease. This was always something you loved, even playing with your plugs by yourself when the feeling took you. It had been too long since anyone else had played with your ass, and you can't say you were too mad about Joel being the first to touch you there in so long.

The stretch is soft, and soon the bulb of the head pushes past your tight ring, making Joel hiss behind you as he watches you take it. He fucks you with it once, then twice, before pushing firmly, letting your ass take the entire length of the plug. Twisting it, he sits the heart upright, before leaning forward to kiss it. It's not often you get a man's face buried in your ass so, figuring it's karmic justice for the species, you push back into him, holding back a laugh when a small oomph escapes his lips when your ass collides with his face.

"Gonna tell Santa Joel you did that. No nice list for you."

"Then if I'm already on the naughty list, fuck me already. You promised me lovin'."

Wiggling your ass, you arch your back to expose your pussy to him even more. He hasn't so much as put a finger in you yet, and part of you is glad for it. You want to feel his cock pull you apart as it fills you, pushing past the ridge of the plug lodged in your ass. You want to feel stretched and full and ruined.

Joel seems to be on the same page, shuffling forward, dick in hand, sliding the tip through your slick folds. Catching on your entrance, he runs the tip of his dick across the plug where it's nestled inside you before pushing down, slipping into your empty hole.

And fuck is it tight. If it feels this good for you, the half-filled and stretched wide feeling of his cock in one hole and the plug in the other, you wonder how it must feel on his dick. You're wet, dripping really, soaking his cock and letting him in with ease, but there's the solid lump of the plug dragging along the top side of his cock as he pushes in.

Deciding he's going too fucking slow, too tentative when all you want is to be filled, you push back. In one swift rock you take him to the root, gasping and hitting the bed with your fists as he bottoms out, his own fingers digging into you flesh harshly.

"Sh-fuck, fuck."

Stopping, you almost pull away, worried you might have hurt him, but his grip stops you. Before you can turn or question him, he's pulling back, slamming in hard again, groaning when you take him completely.

If Santa Joel destroyed you, Cupid Joel is going to wreck you entirely. And you welcome it.

He's fucking you steadily in no time, relishing in the sound of your moans getting higher and higher in pitch with each pound.

Your knees buckle first, planting you face first in your sheets. Joel tries to pull you up, but his own knees are slipping, dragged down by the grip of your cunt on his cock. Giving in, he crowds over you, pumping deep into you despite the tangle of limbs you've become in the last few seconds. Somewhere in the scuffle you've kicked the bow and arrow, listening as they clatter to the floor just as tangled as the two of you are.

He's warm, and sweaty, and heavy above you, holding just enough of his weight on his elbows to let you breathe. Making a few more shallow thrusts, he suddenly stills, nose breathing deep into your hair.

"Shit. Can't come yet. I got one more surprise for you," he pants into your ear, offering you a soft kiss to your shoulder before his weight shifts.

You want to grab him and hold him to you, beg him to come in you already, but he has other ideas and he's pulling out before you can grab him. "Ugh."

"Gimme a sec," he grunts from behind you. "Can't - hmfph - get it over - god damn it - my balls. There. Got it. Snug but, damn, look at that."

Looking behind you, you watch as he sways from side to side, looking down where his cock bobs between his legs. He's mesmerized, and soon so are you.

He's strapped another cock just below his own, the tapered black dildo just shorter than he is. It sits flush to his full balls, anchored to them by a thick ring, another wrapped around his length. Even with the sounds of his struggle, you're amazed he got it on so quickly.

"Don't have to take both but," and he shrugs - fucking shrugs all coy and uncertain as if he hasn't reached into the depths of your brain and pulled out your most desperate fantasy of taking two cocks at once.

"Didn't wanna spook you, but given you like gettin' your asshole played with," he says with a press to the plug still sat in your ass. "Worth finding out if you're into ass fuckin' too."

You were. Fuck yes, you were. You had your own collection of toys and plugs for a reason, but it had been a criminally long time since anyone had really fucked you there. Other than Joel, it had been a criminally long time since anyone had fucked you anywhere.

"If I say yes, what else are you gonna pull out from back there? You got a bag of tricks around here somewhere."

Joel gives you a toothy grin, stroking his hand over his slicked cock before sliding two fingers straight into you. "Tool bag is downstairs, but ain't got anythin' in there I'd like to put in here darlin', don't worry."

Fingers slipping slick and wet inside you, pressing firmly upward with help of the plug still lodged in your ass, you're rendered speechless again. Reaching out for him you hold his hand in place, fucking yourself on his fingers for a moment before reaching further toward him.

Joel gasps when your hand gently cups around his balls, the thick rings of the toy strapped around them making them seem even fuller with the press of the dildo into them. You roll reach one beneath your fingers, catching the dark look in his eyes.

"You like 'em, huh? Know you liked havin' 'em in here."

"Fuck. Thought about it so much since. Dreamed of you coming back to fuck me with them again."

"Tsk, ain't disappointing you, am I?"

"Joel, you have two cocks and you're threatening me with a good time. You couldn't disappoint me right now even if you tried. And you broke into my house. Again. Now, if you don't fuck my ass with either of the cocks you have there soon I'm going to do it myself," you say, fingers stilling on his balls, before you think again and add, "Please."

"Since you asked so nicely, sweetheart. C'mon now, lemme take this out. Can put it back in this needy hole after. That's it."

It's surreal, looking up at him as he gently tugs the plug out of your ass, offering you sweet murmurs of encouragement. You know nothing about him, save for his first name and penchant for dress up games. And yet, the desire you have for him is steadily creeping upward as time ticks on. Truthfully, you didn't even really remember what he looked like when you thought about him, fingers toying with your clit as you came to memories of Christmas eve. Low light and mind melting orgasms will do that to you. All you knew was his voice and the soft filthy way he fucked you. Now, getting a proper look at him without the shield of twinkling lights and that red jacket, you can truly appreciate him. He's fit, though you suspect he's never stepped foot in a gym a day in his life. He's soft too, in the way that strong sturdy things are soft. You want nothing more than to pull him into you, to press his softness against your own as he ruts into your holes, but that's decidedly not what this is. Whatever this is, between the mild crime and fucking, it isn't that sort of soft sweet thing.

You don't know how he's going to do it, which cock is going to take which hole, but you decide you don't care when he's leaning over you to press a soft kiss to your lips. When your legs wrap around him of their own accord it's all but decided, and he takes his cock in hand - his real one - and lines up with your dripping slit, pushing in slightly before fumbling below for the other. It takes a moment - the lubed up dildo slipping from his grasp as he huffs and tries, but fails, to slot it against you. Briefly tangling your fingers with his, you take over, positioning the toy at your ass, feeling it slip in a little already as he grinds his hips forward, desperate to be balls deep in you again. With both cocks poised and ready you moan, quivering and clamping your eyes shut at merely the thought of being fucked in both holes at once.

With one more press forward, Joel slides in, the glide of lube easing the dildo into your ass as his cock reclaims its place inside your pussy.

And fuck, you have never been so full, and Joel has never fucked something so damn tight. The space his cock would normally make is taken up by the dildo, fighting for position inside of you as he rocks gently, sliding in and out of you with gradually deeper movements. The deeper he presses, the more desperate your moans become, and you catch the hesitation in his face before he can move.

"Don't you fuckin' dare stop."

This time he doesn't, wordlessly pushing into you and filling both your holes to the brim as sweat trickles down his face. You want to lick it off him, to sink your nails into his back, wings be damned, to lick the salt from his skin and bite down into the the firm flesh at his neck. But the only thing you can do before he's fucking you in earnest is grab hold, careful to avoid snapping the elastic of his wings against his shoulders as he pounds forward. There's no candlelight and rose petals here, just the raw sound of skin slapping against skin, grunts heaving into the air as you pull yourselves into each other.

"Tell me how it feels," you rasp into his ear, watching the flap of wings over his shoulder. "Tell me how it feels fucking me with both of your cocks."

"Oh, shit, it's good. So good, baby. Someone's definitely goin' on the naughty list next Christmas. You likin' this? You likin' being fucked in both holes?"

A frantic nod is all you can manage as he starts hitting a spot in you you didn't know existed, building pressure in your cunt like never before.

"I know. You're just so full, ain't you. Take two dicks so well. Pulling me in so good."

Hoisting your legs over Joel's hips, you grip around him, a loud moan bursting out of your chest as he fucks back down, deeper now at the new angle. This is it. This is how you die, you're sure of it.

"How close - How close are you. I think I'm gonna - fuck - die -AH!"

He stops grunting for a moment to force out a breathless "Am I hurtin'?"

It only takes one look at you for Joel to realize he's not hurting you at all. There you are, fucked all the way to oblivion and back, a chorus of angels screaming in your ears with each snap of his hips. You're going to come again, clit untouched and holes filled, a way you've never managed to before. You don't even know how it's happening, all you know is that suddenly your soul feels like it's being pulled straight from your bones, through the middle of you and out through your cunt and asshole at the hands of Cupid Joel himself. And then you're gushing, mind and pussy totally detached as you come, soaking his cock and your sheets.

"Yeah that's it," he grunts, his weight surrounding you once more as he pushes into your spasming holes over and over, chasing his own release. If it wasn't for the damn tight rings around his cock and balls he would've come already, but your moans in his ear and your fingers gripping his shoulders spur him forward.

"Joel."

"Gonna come. Gonna fuckin' - uh - come in your tight fuckin' pussy."

"Yes, yes, come in me, please, I can't, I'm gonna -"

Joel stiffens, hips stuttering as he gives you a few hard, shallow thrusts, before he explodes inside you, groaning so loud it makes your ears ring and cunt make one last attempt to clench around him. As much as you soaked him, he's just filled your cunt, cum pushing deep inside you with each spurt, locked in place by the fullness of the two cocks inside you. You collapse back, your ears still ringing and your limbs feeling soft and heavy.

This time you're certain black out for a moment.

But when you peel open your eyes, Cupid Joel is above you again, halo'd by the bright yellow light on your bedroom ceiling. His hair is damp, wet even, from sweat, a bead trickling down his neck and glittering in the light. And in his eyes there's concern, a worried pinch in his brow as he searches your face.

"You passed out -"

"- You're still here."

He rolls his eyes. "Way to make a guy feel special, sweetheart," he says with a cocky smile. "Just checkin' on you, but I can get goin' as long as you're okay."

You nod, the movement feeling as slurred as your speech. "You left. Last time. Saw you walkin'. Jus' wonderin'."

"Wait... you saw that? Shit, I thought you were asleep."

"No, wasn't 'sleep."

"You gonna sleep now?"

"No," you murmur with a nod, closing your eyes as you feel the last sweep of his hand down your neck, pulling a sheet over your limp form, just for you to mumble one last thing before the soft darkness takes you. "Balls... next time... please."

"You got it, darlin'."

It's an arduous journey to the bathroom when you wake up in the dead of night, remnants of cum trickling down your legs and thighs sticking together. Quickly cleaning yourself up, you check the house for signs of him, already knowing that he's long gone. You wonder how he left this time, whether he kept the wings on, whether he still had a second cock strapped to his own as he escaped into the darkness. For all you know, your cupid could have flown away on glittered fairy wings.

And then you're crawling back into bed, takeout long forgotten, any hunger you had satisfied in a different way than you expected. Somehow there's comfort in the wet patch you curl yourself around. Cupid Joel is gone from your house, but there are still traces of him here. The cum on the sheets, the ache between your legs and, as you reach to turn the light off and let darkness take you, the butt plug on your bedside table. Between the Christmas decorations stashed in a box in your closet and this plug, you were slowly amassing pieces of a man you didn't really know - gifts from a stranger that made you feel more at home in this place you'd moved to than anything else had managed to in ten months.

Tracing the outline of the heart with your finger, you stretch and snuggle back down into bed, letting exhaustion take hold and when you dream, you dream of flying.

next part

taglist: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr

[gothamite-rambler]

"You slashed his tires?" Dick asked, disappointed at the upcoming answer.

Inspired by Class of 09 mostly cause I imagine Jason would be there for Roy as a friend. I'm aware the characters that most of these lines are connected to are clinically insane, but I wanted to write this because I like their dynamic and it's just my silly headcanon fanfic.

Dick Grayson: Jason, I've been questioning this since you became friends with Roy.

Jason Todd (staring into his coffee): You're jealous he's my friend and not yours.

Dick (sincere): No, you're a good influence on him, I'm not upset about that. I noticed Oliver Queen seems to hate you a lot. Why?

Jason (sheepishly): We... We didn't have the best first meet up when I became friends with Roy.

Dick sat down and waved his hand for Jason to continue.

Dick: I have to hear this.

Jason: Okay... It’s a really funny story, you’re gonna laugh by the end of it.

Dick (sighing): I doubt it, but go on.

---Flashback (inspired by Class of 09)---

Roy and Jason entered Oliver Queen's mansion. Jason looks around, amazed to be in another rich person's house that isn’t his dad’s.

Roy (worried): You think that cop bought our story?

Jason (confident): Yeah, the other guy confirmed it while we ran off... we’re good. I’ll be right back though; I have to fix this.

Roy watched as Jason walked over to a tilted painting in Oliver Queen’s house.

Roy (bemused smile): What are you doing?

Jason Todd (examining a framed picture of a flower): I can’t deal with this painting being crooked.

Jason aligned the frame. Roy laughed until he heard footsteps descending the stairs. He realized his father had come home early. Oliver Queen saw Roy and a strange man in his foyer.

Oliver Queen (raising his voice, angry): Where have you been?

Roy (rubbing his arm, ashamed) I don’t know, are you a cop now?

Oliver: No note, no text— you could have died!

Roy: With how you handled my drug use, would you have cared?

Oliver: Get over it; you’re fine.

Jason (walking over): Roy, why’s this asshole yelling at you?

Oliver: And who’s this?

Roy: My… new friend.

Jason: We were at the mall, by the way, so you can stop grilling Roy.

Oliver (doubtful): So I’m supposed to believe you two were at the mall all night?

Roy: What do you mean “all night”? We were there for like, what… two or three hours?

Jason (looking around): Yeah, two and a half. Like the show.

Oliver: It’s 1 in the morning!

Jason: Damn, we hung out with that guy that long?

Oliver: What guy?

Roy (nervous): Nobody.

Oliver: What guy, Roy?

Roy: Nobody!

Oliver: Tell me!

Roy (frustrated): Oh my God.

Oliver: Tell me or your friend has to go home!

Jason (amused): Cool, an ultimatum.

Roy (losing his cool): You really want to know?

Oliver: Yes! What guy was this?

Roy (shouting): The crackhead in front of the mall we sold weed to!

Oliver (shocked): Where did you even get—oh, you’re so stupid!

Roy: Oh, so you hate homeless people too?!

Oliver: My opinions about the homeless community are not the issue here! Dealing drugs in public—dealing drugs in general- it doesn’t matter if you sold them to get rid of them! How can you be so idiotic?!

Jason, irritated at Oliver yelling at his friend, steps in.

Jason: It was actually kind of smart.

Oliver (indignant): Excuse me?

Jason: You better fix your fucking tone with me before I slash your tires!

Oliver (offended): Who are you talking to?!

Jason: I’m talking to you, Green Arrow!

Oliver: How did you—

Roy: Ollie, funny story—

Oliver: Did you sell him crack or heroin? Did you tell him who I was for that smack, Roy?!

Roy, rubbing his arm shamefully, remains silent.

Jason: Who says “smack”? You 1950s gangster! I also love how you didn’t pretend you weren’t him; that’s how stupid you are! We sold weed to a crackhead, because what would a crackhead want with weed? Cops won’t expect that shit! It’s genius!

Oliver (mocking): Genius, really?!

Jason: Yeah! And he’s been sober for a few freaking years! So lay off him! We sold the weed because we had it left over from a mission! A mission you weren’t on! What did you want us to do, keep it? That’s dumb! We did a business deal and got rid of evidence. You should be thankful we don’t have it!

Roy (defiant): Yeah, so... why don’t you shut the fuck up?!

Oliver (smirk): What if I have you arrested? You’ll be able to walk, since your plan is so bulletproof!

Roy: No, wait, don’t do that!

Jason: Go the fuck ahead, asshole. They’ll believe us because we’re young and you’re old and dried up.

Oliver: That’s it, I don’t want you hanging out with him anymore!

Jason (angry): He can hang out with whoever the fuck he wants, bitch! So why don’t you go to your room, pour your little Cognac, watch M.A.S.H, and shut the fuck up or I’ll shove an arrow up your urethra!

Oliver: I can't believe you'd say that!

Oliver busted into tears and runs off.

Jason: God, that felt good. Wish I could say that to my dad.

Roy: Why don’t you?

Jason: He’ll write me out of the will.

Roy: Wow, huh... I think you broke him, so yeah, I get not saying that to Bruce.

Jason: I did break him... Awesome. I’m glad I defended you.

Roy: Honestly, I appreciate that, but we should leave. He’s going to be sobbing for a while.

Jason: And watching M.A.S.H?

Roy: It’s not on tonight.

---End of Flashback---

Jason: Then I stole some stuff from his fridge, slashed his tires, and we’ve had animosity toward each other ever since. Man, those were crazy times. Guess he hasn’t forgotten about it.

Jason sighed contentedly.

Dick (rubbing his forehead, exhausted): You do realize how that wasn’t okay, right?

Jason: Yes, but I helped Roy when he was struggling and got that Oliver prick off his case. I’ve done a lot for Roy, especially in helping him get full custody of his daughter. Oliver should be appreciating what his son has become. I am such a good person, you know that?

Dick (chuckling): I don’t disagree. At least you’re not the only one Oliver dislikes.

Jason: Who else does he hate?

Dick: Bruce. Long story.

[eyesxxyou]

You should write mean hobie taking advantage of poor ditzy reader's oral fixation by taking every chance to hook his fingers in their mouth. And also realising how eager they are and how much they love when he's mean, and him becoming lowkey sadistic <3

❝ oral fixation ❞ hobie brown x gn!reader

❝ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ❞ hobie's fingers in your mouth, throat fucking with fingers, spitting in mouth, drooling, lots of saliva, implied oral sex

Hobie watched you chew your pencil. Teeth gnawing at the yellow-painted wood leaving indentations in it. You’ve been at it for half an hour now, chewing absentmindedly while listening to him strum at his guitar. Completely zoned out.

His boat swayed beneath you softly. Hobie was sitting with his feet kicked up and shirtless, his guitar resting in his lap. He stopped playing already and you haven't noticed yet. Chewing and chewing, staring blankly into the void of space before you.

Hobie set his guitar to the side and whirled around to get up. It was only then that you snapped back to reality, your spaced out eyes coming back to look at him and your mouth momentarily pausing their assault on the dull pencil. “What’cha stop playing for?” You ask, watching his approach with big, curious eyes.

“Shh.” Hobie shushed you softly. He stood before you, tall and lean, your sitting figure so short your face met his groin. He reached out and gently took the pencil from your feeble grip. You looked up at him, dumbfounded and ditzy. “Ya ain' even listenin’ t'me.”

He tossed the pencil away somewhere and grabbed your chin in a grip that made your lips pucker a little. “I don' appreciate no’ bein’ listened to, duck.” There was a small glint in his honey eyes, one you knew well.

He dragged his thumb across the seam of your lips before pushing it into your mouth. You didn't resist him, parted your teeth to let him hook his thumb in your jaw and pry your mouth open. “Open.” He cooed softly, the hand that was grasping your jaw

moved to grab a fistful of your hair at the scalp. He pulled your head back, opened your mouth further, his thumb pulling your jaw down.

He kept you like that until drool began to ooze down the corner of your lips. You jaw ached and you whined pleadingly, tongue sliding out over his thumb to offer your mouth to him. You were so eager to please, so desperate for his validation, always.

“Wha’ a dumb lil’ duck you are.” Hobie scoffed, opening your mouth wider, watching drool drip down your chin. Your eyes fluttered softly and you moaned as he tapped his fingers on your tongue.

One hand hooking your jaw open and the other with his fingers on your tongue, he slid the digits across the pink muscle, trailing further and further until his fingers curled into the pocket of your throat.

You gagged a little, your jaw wanting to come closed but Hobie kept it open. “Take i'.” He held his fingers in your throat, smiling at the way you drooled more and more until it dripped onto your lap. He slid his slender fingers in and out of the soft pocket of your throat, reveling in your small sounds of compliant pleasure, your gag reflex subsiding with each slip.

Now it was just wet, wet squelching as he fingered your throat and cooed sadistically at you. “Yer so messy, ducky.” And all at once he took his thumb and fingers from your mouth, leaving you messy and his fingers all wet. 

Hobie leaned over you, his body hot and pretty before you. You could see him drag his tongue over his teeth beneath his lips, gathering saliva in one spot before puckering his full, bi-colored hips and letting a thick, glob of spit fall upon your tongue.

His fingers returned, tenderly. Pressing his saliva onto your wet tongue, he used his lengthy fingers to spread across the flat plane of the muscle and down the pretty throat of yours. “You’d le’ me do anythin’ to ya, wouldn'cha?”

You nodded with a vigor and a moan. You were so obedient, so pretty, so dumb. You watched the way he began to undo the button of his jeans, tellingly. You know what's coming next, a reward for being so good for him.

“Keep ya mouf open now. I ‘ave a good use fo’ i’.”

[glassrowboat]

Imposter. Baizhu.

Summary: That time of your month was always dreadful, made you want to hide away and forget all about the outside world, but perhaps it wasn't so awful with someone there with you.

Word count: 800+

“Is this the part where you tell me you hate being a woman again?”

The bed dipped beside you, creaking with the effort to adjust and support Baizhu's weight on the mattress you were currently curled up on in a bundle of blankets and pillows. Nesting, he had called it, a hand over his mouth as Baizhu tried not to out right laugh at you when he knew it would only result in a pillow being flung at both his and Changsheng’s faces for only one of those two is capable of properly dodging your fury.

“I don't say that.” You grumbled into your shirt. Or, rather, his shirt you claimed as your own. In the end, the difference was all the same.

“You do. Every month, actually.” Changsheng remarked.

You didn't get a chance to tell the overgrown noodle to shut it before Baizhu was chastising her in your place with a “Now really isn't the time to argue with her.”

“Because she might have our heads?”

“Precisely.”

You rolled your eyes at the two's interaction. “I can hear you, you know.”

“Oh, I know, my petal.” His hand cupped your cheek, bringing your gaze up to meet his slitted eyes, staring back at you with a bathymsal nature you couldn't help but be curious about every morning he painted red eyeshadow to his lids in the grace of a fresh morning's light; an unasked question never failing to make your lips tingle. “But we can call it payback for having me run all the way to the store for you in the middle of working hours.”

Your nose scrunched when he tapped the tip of your nose before going to the bag he had dropped on the bed next to him when Baizhu sat down earlier, the rustling drawing your attention.

“You could have sent Qiqi.”

“I could have, yes,” Baizhu nodded, “but you can be rather peculiar about the things you need during this time. I doubt Qiqi would have been able to remember exactly what you needed even if I did write it down for her.”

“Picky.” Changsheng huffed, not bothering to soften her words like the man she's currently wrapped around had a habit of doing. Her scales shifted as she turned her head to look down at the box Baizhu pulled out. Tongue flicking.

“And I appreciated the walk. It's a fine day.”

You looked over at the closed blinds, the light from outside only barely peeking through to leave a glowing line of yellow on the floor. “Wouldn't know.”

“No, I imagine you wouldn't. Though, regular exercise helps with the cramps, my petal. I suggest that once you have had some time to let the medication I made you set in, you come downstairs, and we can drink some tea and share these.” Another item was pulled from the bag, one you didn't even notice until now as a package of fine tea, full moon cakes were held before you.

“You of all people encouraging me to eat something sweet? How ghastly.” You gasped, hand coming out from your nest of blankets to place it over your wide open mouth. “Clearly you're a Baizhu imposter.”

“Hush you.”

On his shoulders, Changsheng snickered, just like you were, at his half-hearted glare.

Taking his hand, you pulled it close, bringing it to your lips that had been bearing a grimace for most of the afternoon, only to now be sporting a smile at the sight of him before you. “Thank you, Baizhu imposter, you're the sweetest.”

He sighed, looking you up and down as your touch trailed over the black glove he wore, always hiding away skin he refused to let you see with claims it's not a pretty sight. As if anything about him wasn't pretty. “You are awful. Always teasing me.”

“Stop making it so easy, then.”

Behind his glasses, Baizhu rolled his eyes at your wink. “Kisses and flirting won't get you out of taking your medicine.”

Changsheng chimed in with a “You have to admire her willingness to try.”

“Oh, fuck you both.” You said, dropping his hand.

“Maybe later, my petal, but for now, I need you to rest.” A kiss fell to the top of your head, nose nudging itself into your hair, and the charm of his glasses, cold as it was, tickled your cheek. “Then we can have our treats later.”

Another squeak of the mattress sounded as he got up, moving to the door with Changsheng still stubbornly wrapped around his neck. Eventually she'd come wiggling back through that very same door to check on you for him, but for now her little head was bobbing with every step Baizhu took.

“Hey imposter.” You called, watching him turn his head, green hair swaying with the movement to look back at you. “I love you. And, thank you for your help.”

His lips quicked up, a fang barely poking out. “I love you too.”

[sadiestarrs]

Pray For A Sign

Warnings: slight internal homophobia mentions, idk that’s it ig

A/N: this was released early bcs i love you guys 🤍🤍 this is proofread and also inspired by this fic!!! thank you so so much for liking cherry red, my other fic! idk when pt2 will be released tho😔

Plot: after being dared by ellie to deface school property, the two of you end up in detention together

Word count: less than 2k (i think)

You had never imagined yourself in detention, let alone for four hours.

It was unfortunate how you were the only one caught on that night, spray painting a rather foul image on the school banner. None of it was your fault though. You couldn’t back out. Especially because Ellie had dared you.

Everyone snuck out after curfew, meeting at the back of the canteen and hanging out. You had never participated in this congregation: there was too much homework and studying to be done. But you were dragged out by some new friends, whilst half-asleep, encouraging you to try something new.

At first, you sat there like a stiff wall, not really joining in until someone called out to play truth or dare. As soon as the circle is formed, you “accidentally” lay your eyes on the gorgeously toned person sitting directly in front of you, who also happened to be staring.

There’s too much happening to notice the two of you eye fucking each other, but the growing heat inside your chest and on your cheeks was very noticeable.

The bottle spun countless times before it landed on you. And when it does, she’s the first to give you a command. Spray-paint a dick on the school banner outside.

You didn’t want to do it, not at all, but she was staring at you—they all were. An intrigued, mischievous stare straight into your soul. Before long, a brand new can of neon green paint is placed into your hands, paired with meticulous sneaking through the quiet halls.

She sticks near you the entire time, not close enough to worry, but enough to make your breath quicken. Just do it and run away. It’s just a dare. No big deal. You try everything under the sun to keep yourself from freaking out but nothing works. Your parents raised you to be a rule-following, obedient person, if they saw you defacing school property, they’d ship you to the middle of the ocean.

“You don’t have to look so nervous, you know.”

It takes a while to register that she was talking to you. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep the ladder steady, just make sure to hold your dress down.”

You look down and realise that you were still wearing a nightgown, cut short by your mid-thighs with little frills and lace edges. Could this be more embarrassing? Ellie smirks before walking ahead, leaving you in heated self-consciousness.

All you wanted was to be back in your dorm. Would they notice if you left? Yes. Yes, they would. And you would never hear the end of it. If you were dared, you had to follow through or be left with social isolation.

A strong breeze hits your bare skin, making you hold your arms close and minimise movement. As you do this, you see her staring, standing in front of everyone and waiting for the coast to be clear.

She lets everyone go past and sticks behind, leaving just the two of you. “You cold?” Pulling off her light grey, Ellie hands it over, insisting that you take it. “No, it’s fine, keep it.”

Instead of accepting, she pushes the hoodie into your hands, walking away before you can say anything. It’s all too much. You had never even had a conversation with her before and now she’s giving you things? You didn't even want to put it on, but feel another gust of wind and quickly change your mind. It smells exactly how you imagined. Just like Ellie would.

She had a reputation for being “bad” and unreliable. You had never personally seen that side of her but you had heard about it many times. So seeing her now act friendly and even caring was more than strange. It was suspicious.

“Go on, Newbie.”

The group waits for you to ascend the ladder, menacingly laying their eyes on you. Just like she said, Ellie stands nearby, holding the rickety object in place.

Please God, if you’re going to answer my prayers, please answer this one. You receive no response. Instead, you have to make your way up, stopping every two rails to take a deep breath. Heights were never your strong point.

“Come on! We don’t have all day.”

Were they getting off seeing you suffer? This was all new. You never hung out or joined in on their group antics. This was a mistake. All of it was. You shouldn't have given into peer pressure. That's all they taught at your school, for God's sake.

When you reach the top, after a painfully long extent, you open the can and begin spraying, receiving splatters of the neon chemicals on your face.

Quiet cheers could be heard from below, and if you weren’t busy simultaneously trying not to fall and keep your dress down, you would have enjoyed it.

When you're done, a breath you didn’t know you were holding is released from deep in your chest. Now you might finally get their approval.

“Shit.”

They scramble from below, everyone separating and running in different directions. No one bothered to help you down or even warn you that a Sister was coming.

“Hurry up!”

The only person left. You didn’t realise she stayed. Ellie.

Briskly helping you get down, and holding your hand for milliseconds, the two of you try to escape before being stopped by another Sister.

That was how you ended up in detention.

✦

“Graffiti. Damaging public property. Public indecency. The odds are stacked against you two.”

You sit in a century-old wooden chair, dust-coated on every surface whilst listening to the Sister reprimand you. And Ellie.

Luckily, she was the only person left when everyone had run. You couldn’t tell the Sister that you were dared, anyway. If anyone found out that you snitched, then you really would have to leave the country. It was funny how she considered your night dress as indecency, though. You barely manage to stifle your laugh.

“It wasn’t her, I promise. I’m responsible because I told her to do it.” Despite her efforts, the Sister doesn’t listen to Ellie, raising her eyebrows and sitting at her desk, leaning back before falling asleep in a matter of seconds.

Ellie gets up, making you look at her from across the room. “Are you mad at me?”

It’s a dumb question. So dumb that you don’t bother responding.

“Hey, you can’t say that I didn’t try. It’s not my fault that I’m a great darer.”

“That’s not a thing,” you bitterly respond, turning away and stewing in your own little rage. Four hours. Four hours that could have been dedicated to studying or sleeping. Wasted by sitting in an old room with someone who you couldn’t stand looking at for longer than three seconds.

Ellie wanders around the class for a bit, lifting books and analysing small things. She even stands next to the Sister, messing around with her pens but receives no laugh from you. Before long, she makes her way to a window, cracking it open and stepping out before coming back in.

“You coming with?”

“You’re not serious are you?”

Not only was she breaking the rule about not leaving your seat in detention, she was leaving the room.

“No, Ellie, of course I’m not coming with you. I’ve already gotten in enough trouble and my parents are probably gonna pull me out of here by the end of the week.”

“Well let’s spend your last few days having fun. Please?”

She was convincing but you had to remind yourself that she was the one who put you here in the first place. You shake your head no and continue staring forward, not being tempted by her longing gaze.

You hear a sigh before the window opens and twigs snap underneath her feet.

✦

“I’m sure you’ve learnt your lesson now, child.”

You shake your head eagerly hoping that it will make her stop talking. “Don’t forget that the eyes of God are always watching.” Mhm. “Keep out of trouble or you’ll be sitting here once again.” Mhm.

Finally, you’re able to go back to your dorm after a back-breaking four hours in that cold, clogged classroom. You hope for the walk to be quiet and pleasant but are proved wrong after seeing the same auburnette sitting outside. Waiting for you.

You can’t come up with a reason why she would wait. Ellie had gotten away with sneaking out and still managed to be there for you.

“Can I walk you to your dorm?”

The answer that leaves your mouth is no when your heart truly wants to say yes. But you couldn’t, wouldn’t, do that to yourself. No. Ellie was bad news. A name you hear and shudder after. Not someone that the likes of you should be walking with.

But still, you let her, awkwardly avoiding any and every type of contact, audial and physical. She still tries, though, making small talk and little guesses about your personality.

“Let me guess, your parents sent you here so that you could become a better person? Yeah, that’s most of the stories around here.”

She continues this one-sided conversation, yapping to herself in an honestly cute and almost funny way.

“Why don’t you hang out with anyone? I’ve never really seen you around, and I know most people here.”

The real answer was not due to shyness or lack of confidence. It was because of something deeper inside you. Something that you couldn’t explain. Something that only came out when you were around Ellie. You had always known what it was but never tried to face it. It was pushed to the back of your mind, left to be forgotten about. The way it should be.

When the two of you finally make it to your dorm, Ellie pushes her way through despite not being invited in.

“Damn, you keep your room really clean. You should see mine, it’s a mess.” The mere thought of being in Ellie’s room makes your heart skip a beat.

She fiddles with a few things around, smelling each perfume and examining the few stuffed animals on your twin bed. “This is by far the nicest dorm in the school. I should visit more often.” A small wink is passed your way.

You don’t object to her snooping. In fact, you begin to welcome it, now answering her questions and entertaining the conversation.

“What happened to that hoodie I gave you?”

The hoodie. Was it shameful that you held it in bed with you every night since that day? Yes, definitely yes. But it smelled like her. And it was probably the closest you’ll ever get to her.

“Do you want it back?” You begin to look under your covers for it before grabbing it from underneath a bunched-up blanket.

“No, no it’s fine, keep it. I like how you have it in your bed.”

God, this was mortifying. You don’t respond, quickly chucking it back onto the bed. “I have plenty more hoodies if you want any.” She offers you a list of her belongings just about stopping at underwear.

You stop yourself from rolling your eyes and instead look at the clock. 8 PM. You had missed so much studying time because of detention and needed to catch up on thousands of subjects.

“I’m sorry, Ellie, but I have homework and studying and-”

“You want me to leave, don’t worry, I got it. I’ll get out of your hair.”

Instead of moving towards the door, she takes a step closer, closing the already small space between the two of you. Your breath hitches in your throat. What was she doing? She examined you like she did in detention. Only now in your room.

“Nice work on the banner.”

With that, she gives a small smile, one with something hidden behind it. Something that only your heart could see. The thing you had buried inside yourself.

“Bye, Newbie.”

[xuchiya]

"photograper" || drabble || park seonghwa

park seonghwa. the sophisticated, formal and world-business and philanthropist man known to this generation. he is young to be successful, but age does not choose its successor but yourself.

hence, with all the trophy, money and luxury in his hands, a woman is his least item in his hands. he had respect for love and biggest respect for woman he come across (even with the greediness and the aura of gold digger), he ends them with respect.

that's why no one can speak ill about him.

and here you are, with your headphones on, a nikkon camera sling on your shoulder and a laptop on your lap. you are free-lancer, a woman with many dreams. you like reading, you like writing, you like painting, you like so many things that you wanted to achieve them even with the smallest amount of money couldn't stop you.

that is until you spoke too soon.

you are indeed a free-lancer yet things still stop you from reach your dreams except for the bills.

and here you are, with your headphones on, a nikkon camera sling on your shoulder and a laptop on your lap, looking for a cheaper apartment that you could stay for a while.

"fuck ... i am so sorry!" a spilled of coffee were on your laptop. you watch in horror how it sparks and the screen died, how your hopes died along with it.

you cried. banging your head on the table, the person who spilled the drink glance at you then to the curious crowd. they lean down, trying to stop you from crying, "hey hey .. i can pay for it."

"t-that's my only hope of getting a job or pay my bills ..." you rose your head, turning towards the person only to be left starstruck. seonghwa who didn't notice the space between you two before he pulls away, face slightly red but composed.

"w-well to make it up to you, i'll hand you a new one or ... maybe i can help you with a job. as my compensation for wrecking your device." seonghwa notice the camera on your neck.

an idea came in his mind.

and that is how he found himself, in a studio, lights everywhere and camera flashing with new poses. you, as his new and personal photographer, checks from the big screen if the angle is good or not.

"that's good. let's take a break!" few staffs thank you as they went outside to take a breather while his make-up artist re-touch his makeup. you lean on the table, checking the photos until you felt a presence in front of you.

you look up and smile, placing the camera down before throwing your arms around his neck. his coat, draping around his broad shoulders, fell from his shoulder yet your instinct were fast. you caught it on time and place it back on his shoulder.

"hi honey." you shake your head but your cheeks were flaring. seonghwa has a big effect on you, from his hair, down to his pouty lips down to his broad ass shoulder that you can imagine throwing your legs on them, to his body proportion and down to his glory.

you have seen them. being a personal photographer to the well-known man has its perks.

"hi." with a yank, you pulled him down by his coat and smashed your lips on him. your relationship isn't a secret to the others afterall, it was about time he settles down.

your lips interlock on one another, a surprise left your lips when his hands run down your back to your ass, gripping them on his hand and giving it a squeeze. he had you mushy and whimpering.

he picks you up and places you on top of the table, he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your lips before he pecks your lips again and again, "seonghwa ... stop we're in public and we have to finish your photoshoot. hongjoong has to arrange-- ah~!"

you were cut off when he grips the fabric of your fish-net stockings and heard it rip. you look down to see around your underwear.

"hey ... i like this fish-net" you can see him rolling his eyes before he undo his belt, your eyes widen looking around the studio if any of the staffs came back.

"i gave them an hour and a half break..."

with a thud, his pants pool around his ankle and your legs were on each side of his waist and around on one of your ankles is your panty hanging, "why?" you ask, knowing fully well why.

he smirks, his other hand jerking his cock before leaning towards you. his tips nudging your clit a few times, you grind on him, mouth gape open in pleasure.

"oh .. so i could hear you scream for me and maybe .. take a couple pictures of you and me." with a wink, he thrust in one swift motion.

[lancermylove]

Butterfly Effect

Fandom: Obey Me

Pairing: None

Warning: None

Prompt: Barbatos sees a butterfly, and it all leads to chaos.

A/N: I got 3 hours of broken sleep last night, and this is what my mind came up with.

———————————————

Barbatos saw a beautiful butter with iridescent blue wings. Its wings resembled overlapping glass shards and shimmered like a kaleidoscope. He suddenly had the urge to go to one of his favorite gardens in the Human realm and took the day off. A rare occasion, but he wanted the day to himself for once.

Even Diavolo was shocked, but the prince agreed. What could go wrong were Diavolo's last famous words.

Without Barbatos, the breakfast was late, and Diavolo had invited the brothers over. The brothers and the prince started to get agitated. While waiting, the prince asked Lucifer to take over everyone's schedule. He was reluctant but couldn't say no.

The food finally arrived, but when they started to dig in, their faces turned pale. Who cooked the food? Was it who they thought?

Mammon quickly stood up, feeling nauseous, causing the candle stand in the center of the table to fall over. Next thing everyone knew, the dining table was on fire.

Solomon walked out of the kitchen with one more dish in hand and was speechless to see Mammon running around with the back of his jacket on fire while Satan and Beel chased him. Lucifer and Diavolo were trying to put out the fire; Belphie was slumped against a pillar, half asleep and half nauseous. Levi was blowing on the fire to put it out while Asmo was in the corner filming everything. The sorcerer sighed and used a water spell to put out the fire.

Everyone was relieved Solomon's cooking was burned to a crisp in the fire, but then they noticed the dish in his hand. Satan 'accidentally' pushed Mammon against Solomon, causing the baking tray to crash to the ground.

While they tried to figure out what to do about breakfast, the prince snuck into the kitchen to use the opportunity to cook and surprise everyone. But when he dumped random ingredients into a cooking pot and turned on the heat, the pot exploded.

Asmo ran into the kitchen and was horrified to see its state. The prince looked helpless, so the fifth brother insisted on using a cleaning spell he had learned from Solomon. However, the spell backfired, covering the castle with soap bubbles and trapping everyone inside.

Beel couldn't control his hunger and started to eat random objects. The others didn't have the energy to stop him as they tried to find a way out of the castle.

"Um...did anyone else hear that?" Belphie asked, but no one heard anything until Beel returned to the dining room.

"I...don't feel well..." he mumbled, touching his stomach.

Beel hiccuped loudly, causing sparkles to surround Solomon, turning him into a kitten.

Satan was instantly charmed by the kitten and chased it around. "Just one hug, please!"

"Wait, Beel, what did you eat?" Diavolo asked. "It...wasn't an egg that looked like chocolate...was it?"

"Yea-" Beel hiccuped again.

Second hiccup: The furniture spouted legs.

Everyone watched in curiosity, horror, or intrigue as the dining table chairs ran into walls over and over again.

Third hiccup: Thirteen, Simeon, and Raphael appeared out of thin air.

Raphael looked confused, but the Grim Reaper was all for the chaos and chasing Solomon. She knew she would never get a chance like this again to get back at Solomon while he was unable to use magic.

Fourth hiccup: Levi was teleported into a large painting.

"Get me out of here!" He shakily cried.

Simeon ran to the painting and tried to calm him down while trying to find a way to help him out.

Fifth hiccup: Asmo's hair glowed neon.

He went into full panic mode. Every time his mood changed, his hair color changed.

Asmo wanted his followers to see his changing hair, but Diavolo pleaded not to record any of this as he didn't want Barbatos to find out.

The prince had to find a way to fix everything before the butler returned. Just the thought of what he would do sent chills down Diavolo's spine.

Sixth hiccup: Mammon became invisible.

The second brother didn't realize it. He tried to make comments about things, but no one responded.

"Hello? You ain't gotta ignore me. At least look at me! Anyone?"

Mammon tried to wave his hands in front of his younger brothers, but still no reaction.

"What're all of ya ignorin' me?"

Seventh hiccup: Belphie's legs were no longer under his control.

His legs moved on his own. All he wanted to do was sleep, but he couldn't stop walking around.

He held onto objects, but his feet tirelessly continued pulling him forward, along with the objects he held onto.

Eighth hiccup: Lucifer vanished into thin air.

"Lucifer?" Diavolo called out. He didn't want to be in his situation alone, but the Avatar of Pride didn't respond. The prince couldn't sense him in the castle either.

He couldn't take it anymore. Diavolo ran into his bedroom and locked the door. Barbatos would find out, and it would be the end!

Mephistopheles stomped to the castle entrance, huffing and puffing. The prince was supposed to meet him half an hour ago, so why hadn't he shown up?

"Hm? The air...why does it smell of dish soap?" He mumbled and paused to look around but assumed someone must have washed dishes and walked past the area he was in.

Ignoring the unease in the pits of his stomach, he opened the castle door. Mephisto didn't have time to react as a tidal wave of soapy bubbles hit him and carried through the streets of Devildom.

"Enough!" Lucifer reappeared in the castle and snapped his fingers, reversing the spells and curses - the soap bubbles vanished, the furniture was static and arranged in its proper place, everyone returned to their normal state, and Beel stopped hiccuping.

Diavolo raced down the stairs and threw his arms around Lucifer, but the Avatar of Pride respectfully pulled out of the hug. The prince was no longer in trouble!

Later that day, Barbatos stood in front of the castle entrance and took a deep breath, bracing himself for chaos. But when he opened the door, the place was spotless. Nothing seemed out of place. It was normal. Too normal.

He walked to the prince's office, and to his shock, Diavolo was dutifully reading through the stacks of papers on his desk. Something was not right, but the butler found no evidence of chaos in the castle.

The following day, Barbatos saw the blue butterfly fluttering through the castle's garden and landing on the table in the seating area. The butler smiled and cautiously approached the butterfly for a better look, but it fluttered away immediately.

Right as he turned around, Barbatos froze and glanced at the newspaper on the table. "Soap Suds and Sorcery: Uncovering the Bubbles at the Royal Castle!" By Mephistopheles.

Furrowing his brows, the butler read through the article. So that was what had happened. And everyone thought they could get away with hiding the truth from Barbatos. The corners of his lips curled up into a wicked smile.

———————————————

➣ All Masterlists

➣ OM Masterlist: [Genre][By Characters]

➣ Tumblr Only ML: Obey Me

[t1oui]

thinking about how living w regulus would affect harry like

he's such a fucking snob about everything. food, decor, fashion, you name it, he's got opinions on it.

he does ballet despite being the least graceful person on the planet. he's somehow pretty good at it, likely out of spite

speaks french

very much a cat person, has a cat named leo who is his baby

like yk how james and sirius are extremely codependent? that's how harry is w leo. both of them can not handle being apart from each other too long

reads a lot of stories

thinks seeker is the best quidditch position

on that note, lots of slytherin house pride. james hates it. harry refuses to put any gryffindor decorations up in his room

harry loves taking pictures just like reg so the house is filled with photographs

and ofc harry is snobby about what types of cameras he uses thanks to reg. james now just lets them deal with the cameras & photography stuff bc he's scared to get the wrong thing lol

harry is taller than reg but bc dysphoria all of reg's old clothes (like quidditch jerseys + hoodies and stuff) are his size so half his wardrobe is from reg's hogwarts days

definitely the type of guy to change his bedding & curtains & everything in his room based on the season. will anybody actually be in there other than him and his parents? not really, but he MUST redecorate

idk what this even means but snobby about candles. this is another thing james is scared to buy him

harry and reg speak french w each other more than english

since james doesn't speak french w harry (i hc he's only comfortable speaking it w reg) harry is used to having a conversation in two different languages so sometimes he'll be speaking french w his friends without noticing

he'll be in the middle of a rant and realize they don't understand a thing he's saying lol

reg and harry control the decorating for every holiday, every birthday, etc.

the one thing harry knows how to do that reg doesn't/reg didn't teach him is cooking. reg never cooked for himself as a child so james was the one who taught him

doesn't look like it most of the time but all of harry's clothes are very expensive... did i mention he's a snob

harry is such a dry texter/writer... he's such a dick about grammar when it comes to writing even tho he can barely string a sentence together when speaking

deeply sarcastic (look! a canon detail! we never thought we'd see that on this account, did we?)

will take his partners on the most expensive dates & whatnot like it's nothing... cedric the farmboy™️ is not prepared

writes sad boy poetry when he gets annoyed w someone... like harry will storm off all pissed and then he comes back 20 mins later with a beautifully written, very angry poem for whoever made him mad

has so many clothes & different curtains and bedding sets for different seasons that he also uses the closet in the guest room (reg takes up 99% of his and james's closet for the same reason)

has an inherent hatred of fake plants

bedroom is simultaneously tidy and so messy a hurricane might as well have come through

leaves a book behind everywhere he goes

secretly the worst sense of humor lmao

he may not have gotten his love of drawing/painting from regulus, but you def see reg in the way he is, you guessed it, a massive snob about art supplies

soooo indecisive. redoes his room at least twice a year

an asshole when he gets less than 10 hours of sleep... he's mildly tolerable after 3 cups of coffee (black, of course) but you might as well just ignore him until he gets a nap in

on that note is very good at making coffee and is, drum roll please, a massive snob about it. who would've guessed (somebody count how many times i've said snob in this post and comment it please and thank you)

if he doesn't like a gift he's horrible at pretending he's happy w it so people usually go through reg whenever they buy him something... this goes both ways too, people go through harry when buying something for reg

is visually james and lily's but in personality is really just reg's (and also lily's... he definitely inherited his spite from her lol)

is a crazy cat lady by age 20

at least 10 pictures of leo in his room... he has whole photoshoots for her and she poses for them

might as well not hang out w harry at his house bc he'll make out with his cat the whole time

loves going to art museums w regulus

he's a, surprise surprise, snob about art. james just doesn't comment on art altogether atp

his vocabulary is a weird mashup of french, english, and hindi that makes it very hard for anybody who doesn't know him well to understand what he's saying lol

looks angry until he smiles (he got this from lily but a life with reg has perfected it)

needs a golden retriever to his black cat in any given relationship (enter cedric and cho) (yes i'm going to push my rarepair on everyone reading this)

tl;dr being raised by/living w regulus has turned harry into a massive snob about literally everything and regulus is proud of it (blink twice if you need help, james)

[agavekitten]

»»————-　♡　————-«« ♡ »»————-　♡ ————-««

Summary - You're Abby's Favorite Daycare Attendent!

Pairing - Mike Schmidt x Fem! Reader

Warnings- All fluff!

»»————-　♡　————-«« ♡ »»————-　♡ ————-««

Every day felt the same, gray, uncomfortable and cold. Nothing seemed to bring the warmth like it used to. Even getting out of bed feels like a chore. I rubbed my eyes, staring into the darkness of the room around me. The soft blankets coddled around me were the only things keeping me from feeling the light cold air around me. I could only let out a sigh as I thought about the day ahead of me. The same old same old, wake up, work, clean then sleep. Over and over again until I could feel nothing. 

Today was one of those days, where I felt nothing. I didn't even notice that I got out of bed and had already gotten dressed. It was like a blur, like everything around me is simply a picture and none of it is real. It’s almost nice to think of it like that - a picture. It makes the things around you more interesting, a painting can be anything you interpret it as. It can be beautiful with every stroke of the paint having meaning and purpose. Or, there is the other interpretation, the one that makes the world look sad and unappealing with bland colors and concepts. But, I didn't like to think of it that way. If I'm going to live in my own fantasy world and believe that the world is a painting, it's going to be a happy colorful one damn it. 

I stepped out of the room and made my way to the bathroom, god I looked terrible. My hair looked like a bird just laid eggs in it and my face was swollen from the night's rest. I’ve always been hypocritical about how I looked, but today it was just a joke. Did my look matter that much? Not really in the grand scheme of things but to me it was important. I work at a daycare and the thought of a parent thinking I looked like a bum on the street and questioning if I had good hygiene made me want to throw up. I spent the first hour and a half trying to make myself look better. I finally felt like a person again as I put my hair up. I gave myself a small smile in the mirror and it immediately fell.

*buzz buzz* 

I looked down at my phone and saw the time, shit. I was late to work, again. I never woke up early to get ready and make myself feel like a person again. Now that I think about it, that's a bit of a problem. I went to the front door and grabbed my bag then rushed out the door. My job was the one thing that I really truly loved. Seeing the kids' faces light up when I enter the room and rush over to me to ask to play with them was always a highlight. It made me feel like my life did have purpose. All these kids relied on me while their parents worked or had a day to themselves, I’ve even become quite attached to a few of them. There was one kid that I look forward to seeing everyday, her name was Abby. She always had a smile on her face when she saw me grabbing my shirt practically begging if we could draw together. I would always spend most of my time drawing and playing games with her while the other daycare attendants played with the other kids. Abby didn't have a lot of friends and besides with you, she was often really quiet. I smiled at the thought of seeing Abby today. She should already be there by the time I walk through the daycare door. 

And just as I suspected, when I came through the door, there she was. A big smile on her face, her hair curled slightly and she had on a pair of cute overalls. “Hey Abbs!” I gave her a soft smile and opened my arms. She came running over and gave me a huge squeeze. “I thought you weren't going to be here today, I got sad.” Abby said, looking up at me with her large doe eyes. I moved my hand to her head, messing up her hair a bit. “You know I don't miss a day kiddo.” She giggled in response, “come draw with me Y/N! I've been waiting all morning! I have an amazing idea of what kind of cats we can draw today” Abby dragged you over to the table with all the art supplies spewed about. That was Abby and I’s thing, drawing cats in different scenarios. You know pirate cats, president cats, the whole works. “What were you thinking?” I sat next to her and smiled. She made a small drumroll on the table with her fingers. “....zombie cats.” We both went silent as we looked at eachother then let out a small giggle. “Zombie cats it is then.” We spent that afternoon drawing zombie cats in different scenarios, zombie cats in the grocery store, getting hair cuts, driving cars and my personal favorite two zombie cats that were dressed like Abby and I. 

“Y/N?” Abby put her green crayon down. 

“Yes Abby?”

“You should meet my brother, he would like you.” Abby had the most serious look on her face and I giggled. “Really? Now why's that?” 

“Well I like you and you're my friend so why wouldn't he like you.” She picked her crayon back up and continued to draw, “he likes all my friends.”

 “He seems like a very nice Abby, I would love to meet him.” I gave her a soft smile.

“Abby?”

»»————-　♡　————-«« ♡ »»————-　♡ ————-««

This is my first fanfic so please be gentle….

yes there will be a part 2!!!

[blairdii]

the smutty carcar part 2 to the spontaneous norapinto + voyeuristic oscar drabble. enjoy 🙂‍↕️

"we shouldn't be doing this," carlos pants, skin glazed and flushed red. his hair is a glorious mess upon the pillow tucked behind him, eyes half-lidded with some sort of sex-induced inebriation.

oscar agrees and nods, "i know," a hand sliding its way down carlos peppered chest before taking a nipple between his fingers and rolling it. carlos' back bends and his throat sings a whine— good god, he's beautiful. legs anchored and locking oscar's hips hitch upwards, and it gives the australian more space to lie flat, tongue painting a hickey into the other's tanned neck.

"do you want me to stop?" oscar asks, breathless and fingers tingling with the knowledge that lando could be- is- listening in.

he timed it so perfectly he's proud of himself; riled carlos up on the track til flames licked at his iris and erotic fury made his voice gruff. oscar wasn't expecting it to go so well, afterall his efforts had been subliminal, unassuming, touches and looks so phantom they could be mistaken for being imaginary.

then carlos had pulled him to the side, hours proceeding the checkered flag, and they had fought and insulted until they found themselves taking their altercation to each other's lips, kiss so hot and heady, oscar just knew how it would end.

"no," carlos moans and shakes his head, "fuck me, oscar. please."

he's got what he's wanted. the one thing that he knows would excavate lando deeply because, contrary to popular belief, carlos and lando never had sex. no matter how much lando had wanted.

and oscar knows he's treading unto a path he has no business being on, that there's no going back the second he slicks up his fingers and goes ever so gently because, "it's my first time," carlos had shakily mentioned and— fuck, it turns oscar on more that he's the one taking it and lando hasn't even touched.

he wants to feel bad, for seducing carlos into bed, but all of that collapses the second he's pushing his cock into tight, tight, heat, hearing the way their moans coalesce and watching how carlos' eyes squeeze shut.

"you're so pretty," oscar whispers. so pretty begging for me as your best friend listens. so so pretty, carlos.

then he's picking up the pace and carlos face is flooded puce as his eyes widen at the sheer speed oscar fucks into him with. a tanned hand slaps over his mouth and oscar notices immediately, trailing his grip to carlos' throat, squeezing ever so slightly (but doesn't miss how the spaniard's eyes roll back at that; he doesn't think he'd ever forget.) and saying, "no, let me hear you. i want everyone to know how well i fuck you, carlos."

he's acquiescents, and there's not a doubt in oscar's mind that lando can hear, because carlos is wailing, moaning, whimpering like a whore, tears and spit making his face shimmer with majesty under the dim hotel lights.

"oscar, oscar, oscar," carlos chants like a prayer, each thrust making his dick jump and leak a small bead of precum.

"i know, i know— cum for me," he can barely let his words out, pleasure so insurmountable he feels his legs shake with it.

carlos keens, body arching so viscerally as he gets pushed over the edge, hole milking oscar for all he's worth.

and just as he falls on top of the other's ticky chest, he hears the door of his neighbour slam shut. oscar grins into carlos' skin.

(they fall into bed again. then another week after that, then just 2 days succeeding that. oscar didn't intend to catch feelings. fuck.)

[yayll]

Hiii i hope you're feeling better soon :(( I was wondering if I could request a Dazai x reader fic where the reader has PTSD? Specifically, the beginning of autumn kind of triggers her (sorry if it's a confusing i dunno how to word it lol) Could it be fluff/comfort? Btw I love your writing style so badly so pls tweak the idea if you think it would work better! And no worries if you'd rather pass :33

hii angel i genuinely am sorry that this took me a while! (work and life happened a little more than usual, GOT SICK and barely had time to sit down and write.) it was so ivover but i am fine now thank u so much bub!

i REALLY hope you like this and that it's what u wanted, i've never written someone w PTSD before and i was just rlly hoping i didn't mess this characterization up for ur request ahhh. i had such a nice time writing it and i rlly wanted to explore the impact it could have around reader and dazai and him going out of his way even if it could be a little goofy and sappy to make u feel at least a little better even if u can't talk abt it.

i love uuuu thank u again! <3

~ a little something about Dazai noticing harmful patterns and loving you through them ~

He's been watching you sit by the window for the past half hour as you stare at what seems like the beginning of the new season outside. You were quieter than usual, more withdrawn and jumpy, which could only mean that you weren't sharing something with him- or rather having trouble processing something to the point where you didn't realize he could tell something inside you was on high alert.

Dazai would rather die than see you in such a state, especially during what's supposed to be such an exciting time of the year that's full of the things you usually love to do. Whatever is impeding you from enjoying the leaves falling has to be dealt with the most delicate of methods, but especially with love. If you taught him anything about the past haunting you to the point of mental distress, something he suffered bouts of every now and then when memories made days grow dark, it's that all you need is one person to truly witness you. Just like how you've seen the ugliest parts of him time and time again yet you still look at him with all the stars in the sky, stars he consumes like a black hole waiting to be filled.

Luckily for you, he has an arsenal of things he can try to soothe you with, because he wouldn't be a good detective AND boyfriend if he didn't keep all those context clues in his pocket for a bad day. Mainly though, he was just completely attuned to your every need. You are his happiness, and your wellness isn't up for debate: It's mandatory. He stands up from the loveseat with a deep exhale as he walks over to you, his lips curled in a lazy smile as he tests the waters to see what you could need from him without asking.

"You know, if you stay any more still I could probably paint you like one of those fancy paintings. What do you say, be my model?"

You look over at him from the window, and he can visibly tell you haven't been at ease lately. He suddenly realizes he's just fallen even more in love with you. That there is nothing in this world that could ever let him see you as anything but his heart.

You murmur, a faint smile decorating your serene face.

"Mm, I'm not sure. I don't think I could pose for that long, you know? It would probably be hard to catch my likeness, heh."

He clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes with a playful smirk. Oh how he wants to lean in and worship your likeness with his loving touch, but he decides to take it easy on the physical affection for now, not until he knows you're feeling up for it. He can be a good boy, something he usually isn't.

"Well, I wouldn't mind being the brave young knight who tries~ Shall we take this outside for better lighting?"

You instantly don't give him a good reaction to that. You shrug, seeming conflicted and unsure of yourself, but unable to really bring yourself to explain with words, something uncharacteristic of you.

No problem! Dazai thinks to himself. If you don't want to go outside, he can bring outside to you in the comfort of home. He'll enhance your safe space, and tailor it to just what you need. He hums, tapping his temple in an exaggerated manner as if he were thinking really hard and when he sees that it gets a small giggle out of you, he knows he's on the right track.

"Hm, I know what we should do instead. Wait here, angel.~"

He disappears into the hallway and you sit there as the sound of cabinets opening and rummaging around fills the air. You smile to yourself, and shake your head at the mental image of Dazai becoming a tornado to find whatever he's looking for right now, hoping he doesn't make too much of a mess. You fidget with your hair, twirling it in between your fingers as you take a deep grounding breath while you wait.

A moment later, he comes back with what seems like art supplies and a ton of mini candlesticks.

He knows you're intrigued when you tilt your head in confusion, but then again that's probably just the confusion... Dazai sets down two canvases along with the candles, flashing you a mischievous grin. If you couldn't process your feelings through words, art was always there! You look over the activities he's laid out for you both, awaiting his silver tongued explanation.

"You know when I want to be the little spoon but I don't say anything?"

You laugh softly, and nod.

"Mhm, you get all moody and weird."

He nods back, a half smile on his face as he rests his hands on his hips. He wants to tell you that the only reason he even knew such intimate luxuries is because you showed him that he's worthy of it, of being loved, but he doesn't say anything. He lets the sweet memories between you swim through his mind as fuel for the day he's trying to create for you. His voice sounds more like he's talking out loud now, lost in a thought..

"You make me moody and weird. You also make me want to grab your soft little face and just..."

He then snaps back to the moment, and his tone picks up.

"... But alas, there is no time to waste! Come, sit, I'll get the other things ready.~"

He zooms off to the kitchen, and your heart softens at how much he fusses over you, though you also hope you aren't being too much. You know he'd hate to hear that, so you simply sit down and look over the supplies you had honestly forgotten you had.

Dazai makes tea, because he knows it helps with your fidgeting and you like how the mug feels in your hands, he also begins to set the candle sticks all over the living room, lighting them one by one. You flash him a look of faint concern.

"Feels like Dracula's castle. You sure this is safe, Osamu?"

He simply grins impishly.

"It's called 'mood lighting', cutie. There is an atmosphere to be created!"

"Yeah, and possibly a wildfire."

"Boo, you're no fun. Besides, that sounds like a problem for future us. We live in the moment."

Dazai would never risk your safety and you know that, which is why you don't push the topic any further.

You two settle in, the candles illuminating you both with a warm flame that feels more comforting than you'd like to admit, you feel yourself becoming more immersed in the random little doodles and brush strokes you create as you both talk for hours about literally nothing while sipping on your tea. Nothing feels nice, for once and Dazai can see it in the way you slowly become less and less tense. So mindful, so beautiful.

After you fill your canvas, you set it down, and peer over at Dazai's.

"What'd you paint?"

He smiles sheepishly, and hides his.

"Not finished yet. No peeking!"

He stands up and in one swift motion, runs outside, while leaving you bewildered at the spontaneity of the situation. A few moments later, he runs back inside, huffing with his arms behind his back. He sits back down on the floor with you, criss crossed. He grabs his canvas, and puts something on it as he slowly unveils his work to you.

It's a single crisp leaf he must have plucked from the grass when it fell, the orange and reddish hue placed on the canvas that shows a cartoonishly painted tree as well. He murmurs, eyes trained lovingly on you but with that familiar playful tone.

"I wanted you to get a little air. It's good for one's mood, you know."

You slowly take the leaf, and twiddle it in your thumb as you begin to smile to yourself. You mutter back.

"The weather changes, moods change, it's so overwhelming sometimes..."

He slowly leans in a little closer and places a hand on the small of your back, inching you closer to him too. He wants to distract you from those thoughts affecting you, but it's getting harder when all he can think about is how much you affect him. He whispers.

"My mood never changes, you're the most precious thing I have ever seen all year round."

You look up at him, your eyes communicating what you feel, and he picks up on it with a silent confirmation. You hold each other's gaze for a long quiet moment and when you feel ready you lean into his chest, nuzzling into him. He envelops you in a hug that feels like the remedy you've been searching for this whole time, and it almost brings you to tears. You don't know it also does the same to him. He gives you a soft squeeze and leans down to your ear, his warm breath feeling like the way life is supposed to feel. You mumble, your voice slightly muffled against him.

"Thank you, Osamu. Love you."

He smiles at that. To be something so soothing to you, to be of use for once in his life, it's a feeling that he could never describe. He'll have to find the words when he covers you in kisses from head to toe later, when he makes sure you feel the full extent of his devotion to you through thick and thin. He exhales deeply.

"Change of season, change of mind... It doesn't matter to me. It's still you. It will always be you."

[starry-eyed-svt]

Sleepy Woozi is Cuddly Woozi ~ Jihoon

eee this is my first imagine for SVT in a long time... I hope you all like it! it's a tad cheesy and didn't really have a direction. I was inspired by a tiktok video seeing Woozi snuggle up to others when he was sleepy hehe

Word Count: 760

Genre: Fluff

“How do you feel about a movie night?” Seungkwan asked over the receiver. 

I was currently on my bed sprawled out, definitely wasn’t planning on going anywhere this evening. 

“What movie?” I asked curiously as I inspected the chipping paint on my nails. 

“Still to be determined.” Seungkwan answered. 

“Who will be there?” I asked. 

“Everyone. So are you in?” Seungkwan asked and I could hear the growing impatience in his voice. I paused a beat thinking it over before finally putting him out of his misery.

“Yes, of course I’ll be there. Thank you for inviting me.” I answered. 

“8 o’clock, see you soon!” He replied and hung up. 

I pulled my phone away from my ear to look at the time. I had an hour and a half before I had to be at the seventeen house. 

I got up and made myself a little more presentable. Still definitely in comfortable clothes, and did the bare minimum for hair. 

I left soon after and picked up some candies and treats to share. When I arrived I knocked on the door. 

Vernon answered and smiled letting me in. 

“Glad you could make it.” He said. 

“Me too.” I responded as we hugged briefly. I followed him to the big movie room. The boys were spread all over. On the floor, on couches. I waved as they said ‘hello’. 

My eyes wandered looking for any seating left. I wasn’t too keen on being on the floor. That is when my eyes landed on him. Lee Jihoon. Probably the member that liked me the least. He was sitting on a loveseat and there happened to be an empty space next to him. 

“Is this seat taken?” I asked Jihoon after ambling over to him. He glanced at the open spot next to him and shook his head. “May I sit there?” I asked, and he nodded. I smiled softly and sat down. 

Jihoon and I didn’t interact much. He was always busy producing music. That didn’t stop my heart from pitter pattering anytime I saw him. 

“Have they decided on a movie yet?” I asked him. He turned his head and his eyes met mine. I could see the sleepiness in them. 

“Yeah. I think it’s one of the Marvel movies. I can’t remember.” He said honestly then turned his attention to something one of the others was saying. 

Everyone settled in, snacks were distributed, lights turned down and the movie, Spiderman Far From Home started playing. 

I folded my arms and focused on the movie. It wasn’t long when I felt a pressure on my shoulder. I glanced over and Jihoon’s head rested comfortably on me. He was out like a light. 

I felt my cheeks warm as I tried to focus back on the movie. That was a task I was unable to do as Jihoon shifted and got more comfortable. Before I knew it I was cuddling my crush. The person I thought liked me the least. Maybe it’s just because he’s sleepy. I’ve seen him like this with other members. Whatever it was I decided I would just be grateful for this little snuggle I got. 

I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep as well until there was a bright flash. My eyes peeled open and I was faced with a grinning Soonyoung who had his phone out snapping pics. I noticed the movie was over and the lights were back on. I felt Jihoon shift next to me and groan burrowing deeper into my side. Then he seemed to remember who had sat next to him and he shot up with a look of embarrassment across his face. He apologized profusely. I told him it was alright. The other’s just cackled and chatted about the incident. 

“I’m sorry.” Jihoon said again, as the others had finally moved on to chat about something else. 

“It’s fine, really. I fell asleep too.” I said and gave him a small smile. I was shocked to see him return it. 

“You’re really comfy by the way.” He said and melted back into the loveseat. 

“Thanks, so are you.” I replied and followed suit. 

Jihoon laughed, he actually laughed at something I said and I could feel my heart rate speeding up. 

“Promise to be my cuddle buddy next movie night?” Jihoon asked. 

“Only if you’ll be mine.” I answered. 

Jihoon held out his pinky and I wrapped mine around his. Maybe he doesn’t hate me like I thought he did. I am excited to see where we go from here. 

[delopsia]

Thot for you.

You’re not sure how it started but you and Rhett figure out he rides best when he doesn’t come for a day or two before rides. He makes it far on the circuit so pretty soon it turns into a week or more and he’s a hot, needy mess. He wins (of course) and cries when he finally gets to come.

Eeek! I thought I answered this, but I must've forgotten to save my draft 😔

The way that this is like...Rhett's own personal heaven and hell, all at the same time. He's scoring higher than he ever has, consistently dominating the scoreboards and earning rounds upon rounds of applause, but also, he's losing his damn mind.

It was cute when the deal was, "No sex 48 hours before the rodeo." He could handle that. Between work and sleep, he hardly even noticed, but now the finals are creeping around the corner, and you haven't let him cum for nearly two and a half weeks now.

Rhett's never really thought of himself as being obsessed with sex or anything of that realm, but fuck, he can't quit thinking about it. Sits there rethinking his life choices when he wakes up hard in the morning, catches himself idly palming at the bulge in his jeans while he's resting in the pasture.

Everything is reminding him of the one thing that he wants, and you're. Not. Helping. Wearing those damned shorts that flatter your thighs, sitting in his lap, kissing his neck, innocently riling him up, and never doing anything about it.

Of course, he could succumb to the urge in his lower belly and touch himself, but he already knows that you'd figure it out if he did so. He's already in this deep. So he keeps clinging to that last thread of sanity until the moment he's climbed on the back of that multi-thousand-pound animal.

The rush of turning around and seeing his name jump up to the #1 slot was enough to distract him from it for an hour or two. Adrenaline and disbelief blind him from thinking about anything that isn't related to winning the rodeo.

You're not sure when he broke.

All you know is that you were stopping at the house to wash up before going back out to see his friends when, all of a sudden, he started fussing. Batting his pretty eyes at you, whining for his reward, so damn eager that he trips over his own words.

"I, I want...want—" He's cut short by your finger, pressing against his lips, big, dark eyes downright shimmering as he looks at you.

He's so pretty once you get him in bed. Unbuttoned flannel pooling at his sides, chest heaving, head rolling back and forth as your hand works him. Slow, tight strokes that pull noise after noise out of his throat, pitchy and broken apart by babbles of your name.

"Please, please, please!" He hiccups, squeezing his eyes shut, a stray tear rolling down his flushed cheek. "Wanna cum!"

"You can, dummy," you breathe. "You won, didn't you?"

His head bobs up and down with a nod. "Mhm."

You wish that you had brought a camera into the bedroom because the sight of his orgasm washing over him is one you never want to forget. Back arching off the bed, head thrashing as he cums with a sharp cry, grunting with every rope of cum that paints your hand.

It's one of those orgasms that take him a moment to come down from, and when he does, his bones have been replaced with jelly. Lazily blinking at you with that dumb, crooked smile, grumbling when you ask if he still wants to go out. It's probably the only rodeo night where he's asleep before 1AM, but come morning, he'll be waking you up bright and early for a round two, three, and four.

You hardly get anything productive done that week.

[blueberryarchive]

The Evergreen Game

The white pawn moves to E4.

"Pawn. E4." Jungkook swallows, sweat pooling on his temples and Cupid's bow.

"Pawn to E5." You murmur in a hiss, your legs trying to move, but Jungkook leans forward to move your chess piece. Your nails grab the hair at the back of his neck as you reposition yourself in his lap.

Jeon grabs your waist with his forearm so you won't fall, although he also feels that his body is going to betray him at any moment.

"Knight F3." Jungkook played after taking a breath, his cock feeling hot and completely covered in the viscous, milky liquid. He hadn't taken his cock out in an hour, and his dress pants, boots, and the floor were covered in his cum. Nasty, cold, and drying with the fall breeze. The scene was indecent.

"Knight to C6." You responded, holding your boyfriend's sweaty head so you could stand up.

"No, I'm not done yet. I have to win."

"It hurts, Kook. I can't anymore." As you moved further the liquid fell thickly onto the floor, making an obscene sound as you moaned. Your puffy lips were swollen from fucking too much, your insides reddened. But every time you moved ever-so-lightly it felt like scratching an itch, painful pleasure. "Let's play again later-"

"Bishop to C4." He interrupted, lifting your listless and tired body. You put your feet on tiptoe and moved on top of him again, the hair on his thighs sweating under your ass and your nipples gnawing at Jungkook's cashmere sweater.

You thought about your next move while he used you as a simple glove or toy.

"Hurry up or I'll go harder."

"You don't need to win."

"I do. Hurry up or I'll go harder." He repeated firmly.

Jungkook's mind wanted to focus on this round, he had an important game tomorrow; he could earn good money to pay for the apartment. But you offered him some gummies to which he just opened his mouth to chew them without thinking much.

Bad decision. In the first fifteen minutes, he felt his body warm up. Fifteen minutes later, you appeared completely naked in front of him.

An hour and a half and you no longer know how to count the times he has filled you until you were dripping wet and overflowing.

Half an hour ago, you asked for mercy, like a hypocrite. The fact that you thought it was going to end without your pussy being abused was just foolish.

"Bishop to C4?"

Jungkook left his painted hand on your right asscheek. You purred, biting your lips with delight, and curling your toes. 

"Think, pet. I need you to concentrate."

"C5, I- C5" You begged, moving with a little more energy, the cum lubricating your pain, pure bliss.

"Mhm. Keep moving like that. I'll let you go after this round.." Liar, you said to yourself while you hugged his neck. He held you tighter while he moved your black bishop.

"Pawn B4."

This game sounded familiar.

"Bishop to B4." You said, lifting your body even higher. The white pawn out.

"Pawn C3."

Jungkook didn't resist and kissed your neck for the umpteenth time that autumn afternoon. Your sweaty back under his hand moved, trembled, rose, and fell in short moans.

"Bishop A5."

"Bishop D4."

"Pawn to D4." Jungkook's index finger pushes the pawn to its new position, with that, you begin to groan as you shake the pieces with your hand on the table.

"Are we playing the Evergreen game?" You laughed breathlessly when you noticed how fast the game was going.

"Looks like we are." He smiled, revealing his dark eyes beneath the wet strands of his forehead. "You know what that means."

"You win at the end."

Jungkook growled before lifting you up and completely destroying the board until he placed your body on the table. Your breasts bounced with every hit and crash of him inside you.

"Koo, please, slow down. It hurts."

But he just couldn't. God, he wished he could because it hurt him too. But those pretty little cries that came out of your drooled and swollen lips didn't want him to stop filling you up.

"One more time."

"It'll burst out."

"I don't care, love. My floor and boots are already a fucking mess because of you."

You laughed through your tears. You loved seeing him so desperate.

Jungkook grabbed the queen and bishop between his fists before feeling how he filled you to abounding again.

And yet, after feeling himself almost faint and his legs spasming, he felt like he could win another round.

[sketching-pasketti]

Oh hey look it's the longest fucking post I'll ever make

Proxy Headcannons

——————————————————————————

General Headcannons:

All of them hate Slender but literally can't do anything about it cause he controls them

Everyone hates Tim but love Brian

Toby is a gremlin

Individual Headcannons (Masky/Tim):

"Oh I'm a whore for red velvet cake" "Yeah, Tim you say that everytime we go get cake"

Smells like cologne and cigarettes

Tired 24/7

Probably hates Slender the most out of all of them

Loves Five Guys a lot for some reason

"Uh, half of y'all have criminal records and the other half are supernatural creatures, no shit Slender won't let y'all work"

Says "y'all" a lot even though he's not southern (me too tho)

Cannot stand county music

A metalhead

Coffee addict

Calls people nicknames sometimes (example: Kate;Katie, Lulu;Lu, Lazari:Lazii, Kate:Katester)

"Ow? My ass?? What the hell, Katie????"

Speaks 4 languages

Can't stand Jeff

"You smell like cigarettes and it's really repulsive" "Okay?? You smell like weed, shut up"

Kicks ass at Mario Kart Wii

Also kicks ass at Wii Sports

Individual Headcannons (Hoodie/Brian):

"I pay for all of you guys' food so I don't think you get to say anything"

Is always either in his room or out at the store

Disappears for literally months and then comes back like nothing happened

Low-key has a (b)romance with Tim

Babysits Sally

A swiftie

Really likes Hits Different

Assigns people random emojis to their names

Examples are Tim(🚬), Toby(👹), Kate(🥺), Jeff(🔪)

Plays visual novels in secret

Not really though, cause Slender knows

Really good friends with Jane and her wife

Doesn't like how itchy his mask is

Wants to run Offender over with a car

Individual Headcannons (Toby):

Screams Taylor Swift lyrics at people who piss him off (*cough cough* Tim *cough cough* ex; "LET'S FAST FORWARD TO 300 TAKEOUT COFFEES LATER" "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU RODGERS??")

Also blasts music at ungodly hours

Heavily annoyed that Tim is the only one that Slender trusts to help with his tic attacks

Heard Jeff snort crack once and now that noise is a tic of his

Names his hatchets

"oh no"s randomly

Threw an egg at Slender once

Screams the lyrics to the songs he listens to

Has a collection of shiny things he's stolen from his victims

Honks (goose or car, you decide)

5'8"

Ate glue on multiple occasions

Didn't even notice it was glue actually until Brian told him

Tastes Jane's candles (she gets very upset at this)

Bites people

Forgets he chewed the side of his mouth off and gets shocked when he looks in the mirror

Rare whisper boy

His grandparents taught him German and now he has an accent and everything

Drew on all of his Converse

Perches on the stair railing

Sleeps in the starfish position

Individual Headcannons (Kate):

Also draws on her Converse

Draws everyone and everything

Painted most of the pictures Slender has in his office

Helps Toby collect shiny things

Hunches over like the hunchback of Notre Dame whenever she's doing something

Her back hurts constantly

Mapped the house so she wouldn't get lost

Whisper girl

Pierced her nose by herself (and made a huge fucking mess)

Let's Sally do her makeup

Slaps Tim's ass everytime he walks past her

Eats crayons on purpose

Vomits each time though

Has a large vinyl collection

And a Funko pop collection

Uses "🥺" unironically

Can ice skate