#rose's creative corner

[haunted-house-heart]

"the hunger descending" acrylic on black canvas <3

please if you do image descriptions hmu i'm begging <3

i have finally done my painting of the hunger!!! not exactly how i wanted it but i'm still proud of it !!

[roselyn-writing]

When a rose turns black chapter 14

“The Dark Watchers”

A/N: gif isn’t mine! I find it on pinterest credits to owner!

On a cold, moonless night near Khyerma’s territories. There is a huge, dark castle. That is the home of the Devil Donkey Patron. A few people know him as ‘Mariuz, which means ‘Demonic Donkey’. But that’s not the case.

In the castle of doom, Mariuz's home Every moonless night, He and the Donkey Lady kidnapped children to sacrifice them and remade them into the ‘dark watchers, or demonic little creatures, A fate worse than death. Today is no different. Donkey Lady Had brought a group of children of both genders to do the ritual.

She grabbed them using her magic and pulled them to the center of the hall, the place where they would sit and wait for the ritual to be completed. Despite the fear of the children and their cries, It didn’t move the Donkey Lady or Mariuz.

Their cries fell on deaf ears; they hoped that the donkey lady would let them go, but that didn’t happen at all. So they surrendered and accepted their fate.

She quickly moved her palm to summon ethereal chains and cast them at the poor souls, Which gave off a dazzling ember-colored glow. The chains brutally bound them together as they licked their skin with their heat as they touched their innocent skin.

These wretched souls were being tormented by wicked spirits, and their cries of anguish and suffering reverberated throughout the room. This pleased The Devil Donkey and The Donkey Lady. The ritual can now officially start.

Maruiz recited the necessary spells for the ritual. Magic runic symbols in the shape of a triangle appeared beneath them. A dark, tarry thing oozed out of the ground into the bodies of youngsters, enveloping them and taking possession of their bodies and minds in seconds.

Knowing that his work was flawless, Maruiz grinned contentedly. He had created the ideal spy for him. He gave them a hand gesture. They kept looking at their master.

He said in a firm voice, "Spread around Valorena and be my eyes and ears.

The Dark Watchers didn't say anything in answer to him; instead, they transformed into black clouds, spread fear in the lands, and served as the spies their master desired.

Donkey Lady experienced some vertigo. She believed her mind was playing games with her. There was a recollection of her as a contented married woman with a child. Then there was the time when she was a carefree, joyful girl. She was human and alive in those memories. She is now Mariuz's servant and an undead creature. Her human name was Samira Macdoni.

Mariuz glanced at the Donkey lady and noticed that she was remembering something. He was internally seething as he performed a memory-erasing spell on her with his hands. She was in a drowsy state of mind and didn't react or do anything in any way; rather, she appeared to be mentally exhausted. Mariuz cast the remove memory spell on her since he needed her and couldn't afford to lose one of his best servants. She is both vicious and gorgeous.

After He performed the spell on her, her eyes shot open, and she breathed heavily. With that, he knew his spell worked, and she wasn’t going to remember anything from her past life. With this, she left to do other stuff; she didn’t want to stay here for much longer.

Mariuz sat on his throne to think about the incident that was currently happening in front of him. What if it happens again? He must find a way to make her forget about her past life forever. He must sever it completely. But, how? Such things need powerful spells and magic to do so.

Mariuz is getting weak because there is no sacrifice or life essence he can absorb; he heavily relies on his followers and the donkey lady to gain more power for him. He feels pathetic indeed, but he wishes he was invincible just when he was in his prime.

The Shining Forest, A magical and magnificent forest with long, shining trees, leaves, colors, and bright lights. A glorious ageless being that has the figure of a centaur but is made of hard stone and leaves. instead of flesh and blood, With two robust tree branches serving as his horns. This ageless creature is called Heynois; think of him as the Sylvan of Dragon Age, but a centaur! The leader, the general of the guardians of the forest Those are beings who protect the shining forest from people's dark yearnings.

Adorned with green and brown armor and shoulder pads. Despite wearing armor, his stone-like skin is visible through it. He looks terrifying and menacing. Carrying his long and lethal spear wherever he goes, But make no mistake, he is on the good side.

The forest is his home, His life, and everything. He cannot exist without the forest. It is his life force; all the life plants in all dimensions are connected to him somehow.

He groaned in annoyance when he realized he had lost the way to the meeting with superiors. With a tired sigh, he continued to walk through the forest to reach the hall, walking back from the same road he had walked through.

He groaned in frustration. Despite walking through the forest bringing him peace and tranquility, he just doesn’t feel it anymore. Because he has to help others. And he doesn’t like to help others unless it's needed.

The breeze is refreshing and sweet. He enjoys breathing in and out; it is one of his daily routines. As a Sylvan, life is lonely. He and his kind are destined to live as immortals and loners in the woods. However, If people came to the woods, they would be cautious about them. They don’t want anyone to disturb the forest.

The Shining Forest is brimming with powerful and ancient magic. It is strong and the core of Earth beings; every Sylvan and Earth nymph will defend their lives because it is their home. Woe to those who want to harm the forest!

The Forest was and always will be the target of mages and corrupted kings Because of the old magic. Every time they come, the Sylvans will take care of them, Either forcing them to leave or killing them.

In Heynois’s place in the middle of the forest, His garden-like home is decorated with the bones of mages and corrupted kings. It is a warning to those who want to try and do the same. This is what awaits them.

After what felt like long miles, He reached his destination in the forest, where the meeting would be held with the superiors.

He hated the meeting; he hated the idea of interacting with people. But for his superiors, he must do it. Maybe there is a threat or something important to discuss with them.

“Heynois!" a familiar voice called for him, The owner of the voice was none other than Sire Aham, the leader of the protectors.

Heynois bowed to greet him, "Sire Aham."

He greeted him, "Good to see you, Heynois."

"Sire Aham, What’s the occasion of this meeting?" He asked impatiently.

Sire Aham chuckled as a response to him. He knows that Heynois is impatient. But he answered him nonetheless. "People told of some creatures that looked like shadows; once they came near, they disappeared," Sire Aham said.

Heynois gave him a perplexed look. He knows a lot of creatures, as Sire Aham described them, yet he can’t name them all.

"This is really disturbing," Heynois muttered, uneasiness evident in his tone. If anything, this isn’t something one should ignore; this is something malicious. He sighed, revealing the ancient silence of the forest. How he despised the mage and their dark arts.

Aham sighted too, but he also recalled the name of the dark watchers; these creatures can’t be ghosts or wicked spirits. These things are man-made. He knows how to stop them.

He put his finger on his chin and said, "I think they are the dark watchers."

"Dark Watchers?" Heynois questioned.

"Yup, the Dark Watchers."

"What are they?" Heynois asked. He seemed intrigued, although they were evil.

"Beings made by sacrifice to make shadowy-like spies," He answered in a simple way.

"That’s bad, Sire! What are we going to do?" Heynois asked again, and his grip on his spear seemed to tighten.

Aham noticed this, yet he calmly replied, "Don’t worry, I will take care of this."

"Is there something I can do?"

"Depend on me, Heynois; I only came to warn you of such evil," He said, then flashed him a warm smile.

Heynois was sighted again; normally, he doesn’t depend on anyone. But this is Sire Aham we are talking about.

"I trust you and the remaining one," Heynois muttered.

Sire Aham smiled, then bowed, "Take care, my friend." With that, he disappeared like a flashing light, Leaving Heynois to ponder the situation.

"Great," He muttered with annoyance.

A little girl dressed in a bright red dress with jewels and a head veil was walking happily beside her mother. She is looking at everything like it’s her first time seeing it.

"Aliyaa, Honey, Stay here while I go to buy, okay?" Her mother said

"Yes, mother!" She replied.

Farrah left Aliyaa near the booth of a female vendor; she was middle-aged, Beautiful, and kind.

"Hello, Child!" The woman spoke.

"Aunt Magda!" Aliyaa exclaimed with happiness.

Magda is a vendor woman; she has a small booth that sells vegetables and other products.

She isn’t rich, but it gets her money for the day.

Her husband is a farmer. He works hard to provide for their children and grandchildren.

They are a happy family; they aren’t poor, but in the middle. They are grateful for this.

"Aliyaa, How are you and your mom?" She asked as she hugged the little girl.

She is friendly to her neighbors and friends. Aliyaa and her family are one of them. She likes to give Aliyaa sweets, and she knows how much she likes them.

Aliyaa, ever the happy and bright girl, "My mom is shopping; she told me to stay here until she returns!"

Magda smiled at her and said, "Glad to hear this."

Magda kept talking to Aliyaa, and it didn’t take long for her mom to come to her. Farrah, on the other hand, is very happy to see Magda, her neighbor.

"Magda!" She called with a smile.

"Farrah!" Magda called back, "How can you leave the girl like this?" She added that she wasn’t happy about this at all.

Farrah felt a bit embarrassed by the older woman reprimanding her like a child. Magda is right; she can’t just leave the girl alone.

She was embarrassed and lost for words; whatever she was going to say to defend herself couldn’t be justified at all.

"Next time, don’t leave her like this!" Magda spoke in a serious tone.

"I won’t!" She replied.

Nothing had been said between the two women; Farrah took Aliyaa’s hand and left to go home. Magda is worried for Aliyaa; must she inform Hadi about this? But she doesn’t want any trouble or anything.

She sighed as she let this one slip for the sake of their marriage and child. But if that happens again, she won’t hesitate to tell him.

Looking through the orb above his wand. He saw a beautiful girl; she was breathtaking, and he also noticed her eyes were the color of amethyst. His heart bounced in his ribcage. For the first time in forever, he felt something like this. He intended to spy on the queen of Morbidia. If a beautiful maiden happens to be her maid or daughter, He will know who she is. and he will make her his.

"Who is she?" He pondered to himself.

He will know her; in fact, she will be brought to him. He doesn’t care if she is the daughter of the queen; he will relish the idea of stealing the queen's daughter if she is the queen’s daughter.

It will be hellish revenge for what she did to him all those years. Sweet, Cruel, revenge

[beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff]

im sick of those '1975 albums as aesthetics' tiktoks being all exactly the same with vaguely different colours and one has a book in it like NO where is my dishevelled noacf neons and dresses like matty healy in 2020 aesthetic. where is my ACTUAL 2014 tumblr self titled aesthetic. and also all the bfiafl ones are ugly sorry no one GETS THIS ALBUM 💔💔💔 someone point me to a nice one please

[pixiesfz]

It make me so sad that’s there is not much lotte or Teagan content on here 😭

I’m gonna mix my two requests for teagan together!!

take the punch t.m

plot: you take a hard punch in a corner kick, turns out it’s from the girl you’ve been talking to for months.

warnings: injury, aggression from teammates, Player gets hit in the face and player is only given a yellow also I am NOT a doctor

You stared at your phone and the messages that were on it.

More specifically the girl behind the messages.

You had met Teagan at the start of the season on her debut as Liverpools goal keeper.

She had been a pain in your ass.

saving your shots left right and centre, it annoyed you but impressed you so much that you went up to her afterwards.

“Teagan is it?” You ask, walking up to her and she nodded “uh yeah, your y/n” she responded and you nodded “you know your really good” you told her “wasn’t fun for me but you know” you laugh and she laughed with you.

“I was honestly very scared to go against you” she admitted and you rose your eyebrows “really?” You ask and she nodded “watched you in the World Cup when Australia versed you, got those goals past us like it was nothing”

Oh yes, you remember that day.

“Sorry for kicking you guys out” you said softly and she shook her head “nah it’s all good, had me mesmerised to be honest”

You blushed, “yeah?” you ask and the goal keeper nodded “definitely”.

Before you could response you felt the hands of your teammate drag you away “Chloe!” You complained as she smiled at you

“No fraternising with the enemy y/n/n”

“Shut up”.

When you went to bed that night you didn’t expect to wake up to a dm from the Australian.

‘I really hope this is your account and not just a very popular fan account’

And for the first time in a while you woke up with a smile.

After a month or so of talking online with the girl your teammates noticed a change in your behaviour.

You were smiling in the morning, trying new things for breakfast and pestering Mary and Alanna for Australian facts.

One day Alanna turned towards you “Alright who is it?”

“Who is what?”

“Who is the girl that is getting you all…giddy”

You stepped back “there is no girl”

“There is such a girl, who knew our little German could find love?” She grinned and pulled you into a loving headlock.

“Fine” you grunted “there is a girl” you admitted and cheers filled the room.

“Who is it?”

“Does she play?”

“Do we know her?”

“Please don’t let it be a physio”

You turned to Jill weirdly “what?” You asked and she just shrugged before you turned back to your teammates.

“I’m not going to tell her name yet just in case it doesn’t go well, yes she plays and yes some of you know her well”

You gave away your hints before the team realised it could literally be anyone in the WSL.

“Can you at least tell us the team?” Mary asked, using her power of being one of the younger, cuter members of the squad.

“No.”

You were on a FaceTime with the Australian when she made the first move “Do you want to go on another date with me?” She asked after the topic of your worst date ever came up.

You smiled bright, a blush burning on your cheeks but you were so ever happy “I would love to, we can walking on the beach again”.

“Well we have the Liverpool vs City game coming up next week so after that” she declared “nah, I was thinking something fancier, we can go on a nice dinner and-“

“I want you to surprise me” you cut her off “I want to know what your creative Australian mind thinks of”

“Well mostly it’s you” she chimed in and you groaned, rolling your eyes “oh shut up”

Teagan laughed at your reaction, smiling at the way you reacted to her cheesy pick up lines.

Texts back and forth between the two of you did not help your nerves for the game ahead of you. But mostly you were more nervous for the activities afterwards.

You had ended up confiding to your national teammate Lena about your situation ship with the Aussie, not letting your club teammates know just yet.

But when the game ends and the girls see you walking out the doors with Teagan they'll find out who your mystery girl is anyway so with your blood rushing and head spinning you finally and well accidently tell your man city teammate and unfortunately Teagan's international teammate Mary.

"Really?" she responds to your quick words as you laid them out quickly, you just blushed harder before she gives you a thinking face "well that makes sense".

You furrow your brows "how-why- how does it make sense?" you ask, your arms moving with your words "well last international break she seemed much happier and that was after we versed Liverpool and if we weren't at trainings she was like stuck on her phone"

You stepped back at your friends words, You and Teagan had only successfully been able to go on one date together by the time the first international break came over, it brough a smile to your face realizing that she was in a similar state as you afterwards.

"I can help you two!"

"Mary I will not allow this to become a primary school relationship!"

Soon the game was here, you were lined up with your team in the tunnel, not in the starting XI but still in your gear as a sub. Mary was behind you, still the only teammate who knew about Teagan.

"look who's watching" she teased and you turned red, quickly turning around and smacking her arm "stop" you instructed and turned towards Teagan who was near the front of her line, she was already smiling at your interaction with Mary but gave you a small wave which you copied before you all walked out.

"that hurt" Mary rubbed her arm "deal with it".

You weren't subbed on until the second half, City were up by one as Lauren sent one through Teagan's fingers and into the net. You saw Teagan dust herself off as you ran on, her eyes fell on you for a second before going back onto the play which you joined in on quickly after.

Jess had scored not long after and you cheered after her, jumping onto her back with a smile. You wanted to look back to Teagan to see if she was doing okay but you were in your element, playing the sport you love and in this case winning!

In the 87th minute Kerstin weaved through the midfield and in between defenders as you lead towards the goal, her eyes darted towards you and sent you the ball, you jumped to header it in and then black.

The crowd watched as you jumped in the air, the ball hitting the front of your forehead and unfortunately the fist of Teagan's hands hitting the back, causing you to fall forward straight on the floor which you stayed.

Teagan all of a sudden didn't care about the ball that hit the back of the net and quickly dropped down to you, rolling you on your back so you faced up to her. "Oh my god-"

Teagan was cut off as your teammates pulled her away "Get off of her Micah" someone called out, Mary, cringing on the sidelines as she couldn't split her teammates and her friend apart. The words were catching your ears as you stirred awake to whatever had just happened to you.

Teagan ignored the man city players pesters and kept her eyes on you "please I just want to see if she's okay" she told them but Alanna pulled her back as medics ran on "Teagan she's not going to want to see you" she told her and Teagan crossed her head "I was supposed to ask her to be my girlfriend tonight" she told Alanna and the tall Australian stepped back and looked back over to you with wide eyes.

"let her go over".

Teagan ran over to you as the medics sat you up, The referee also showing her a yellow card but she didn't care.

"Hmm- Teags" you slurred as the girl came into your view "what happened?" you ask and the girl pursed her lips.

"Kinda punched you in the face"

"Oh" you said, not really gaining the information, a clear concussion on your behalf

Teagan watched as you were taken off by medics and went back into her box, the game quickly changed in the last ten minutes, the crowd was quiet and the teams weren't playing as hard, Liverpool excepting their defeat and man city not celebrating their win.

Not without you.

You were taken into the medics room before they quickly decided to take you to the hospital for a CT scan.

Meanwhile at the game, some of the players skipped the walk around the field to talk with fans and checked to see where you were. Hospital was what word was heard and Teagan along-side with Man city players were on their way.

Teagan drove herself, maybe going a bit faster than usual but you were on her mind, this was her fault.

She had had a concussion before, a bad concussion, it took her out for months on the team. She didn't want the same for you.

She was the first to arrived still in her kit, your teammates walked in five minutes later, quickly seeing the girl and walking up to her "you don't have to take pity on her" Kerstin said, Lauren quickly following "a quick DM would have been fine for her", their words were filled with pettiness which Alanna and Mary quickly shut down.

"They're not strangers" Mary said quickly and they all turned their heads "what?" Chloe questioned, Leia still stepping up to the Goal keeper "then what are they?"

"She's the girl".

Leia stepped back as Chloe gasped "oh my god, we are so sorry" Teagan just nodded, she ignored their comments her mind strictly on you "she was gonna tell you today after the game"

"before you punched her"

"useful information, thankyou Mary"

All the girls sat down, waiting for you "do you think she'll be mad?" Teagan asked Alanna who shook her head "she knows what she signed up for when she took that header, she knows the game" the blonde said and Teagan just nodded, still not convinced you wont cuss her out when you see her.

You sat in the room, looking at the scans, you would have a month off which you nodded your head at "I know it's not ideal but you have to be on a bed rest for about a week and you will have to miss the next international break for Germany" the doctor told you and you once again nodded your head.

"But you will be well enough for the Olympic but if you don't make it to the finals then you'll be out until the end of the season"

You sniffed, rolling your head back to stop any tears. You were sure Man city would make it to the finals with how they were playing, but if you missed a month you weren't sure if you would get any minutes on the film.

You had seen how time off had done for others, you didn't want that to be you.

You walked out of the room looking defeated as ever, your teammates were the first to walk to you, checking up on you with little questions before Kerstin gave you a hug, silently apologizing for her kick which you told her was not her fault.

It was nobodies fault.

When they all walked away, Mary softly turned your head towards the Liverpool keeper who had left to grab flowers from one of the stalls nearby.

"I thought you would have gone home" you said, relieved at the sight of her "and go to the dinner by myself?" she joked and you softly laughed.

You touched the back of your head "I don't think I look nice enough for a fancy dinner right now" you said and Teagan stepped forward her arm raising towards yours "Well personally I think you look amazing"

You blushed as she she tucked your hair you had taken out behind your ear "how long are you out for?" she asked "only a month" you smiled "that's really good Y/n" she started before looking down "I'm really sorry I just wasn't thinking and-"

You cut her off y quickly pecking her lips, distracting her completely as she widened her eyes "I don't blame you Teagan" you said, grabbing the flowers with one hand and grabbing her other hand with the other.

"So you're not mad?"

You creased your eyebrows "of course not" she let out a sigh of relief "well that's good, might have to cancel our plans though" she said and you smirked "how bout we order take out at mine?"

"yeah?"

"yes."

[lua-magic]

Numbers secrets that brings good luck.

Avoid using numbers eight and four in your mobile, or even in bank account number because eight represents 🪐 SATURN and Saturn has the energy to slow down things, avoid using symbols of Saturn as well ie infinity ♾️ because it represents loop, it will keep you in a loop and give you result after hard work.

Four is the number of Rahu, Rahu is an illusion, it keeps you stuck in desires without giving you result, Rahu is smoke, so Rahu makes you hallucinate and delusion which keeps you away from reality. Avoid using symbols of Rahu such as snake and Dragons, as I have observed many people get such tatoo and Rahu turns their life upside down.

So, avoid using numbers like 888 and 444 because you are only giving strength to Rahu and Saturn, as I have seen Many people uses such numbers thinking it is good luck, but until and unless Rahu and Saturn are well placed in your chart avoid eighth and four.

You can choose numbers like one(sun) which represents success and authority.

Two(Moon) which is your creativity and imagination.

Three(Jupiter) which knowledge and higher learning.

Five (Mercury) which skill and travel.

Six(Venus) Which luxury and beauty.

Seven (ketu) Untill and unless you want to go deep into Astrology and occult don't use this number as ketu gives you isolation but great idea comes only when you are isolated.

Nine(9) Nine is number of Mars, Mars is good as it gives you lot of energy and passion but also makes you accident and injury prone so don't overuse this number.

Certain combination of numbers you need to avoid that is 24 because two is moon and four is Rahu and moon and rahu are enemy planets. Again this number when add comes on six which is number of Venus, but instead you can use 51.

Next is 26 because when you add two and six it will come on eighth which also represents Saturn.

Avoid using 🖤 black colour, because it is colour of Saturn.

Blue is Rahu, and Red is Mars, use in minimal quantity, especially in your House.

Don't use red bedsheet and black bed sheets it will effect your sleep and married life negatively. Avoid using blue and grey as well, as grey is ketu.

Your bed room is Venus, so use more white colour in bedroom and rose fragrance.

If you facing problems with liquid cash then your moon is afflicted, increase water elements in your house, like keep an Aquarium, or a fountain.

If you want name and fame then use picture of sun in your house.

If you want to increase energy of Mars, then use tortoise symbol at home, because tortoise symbolises strong back which can take the load.

Tortoise symbol is good, if you are facing problems in job.

If you want to increase Jupiter energy that for knowledge and guidance then use more yellow colour in house and keep temple inside your House and keep it clean.

Avoid using half cut photos or symbols because it represents ketu.

If you have any idol or there is someone like whom you want to become, keep his/her photo in North eastern corner, because north east is your subconscious mind

Keep north east corner always clean and avoid keeping anything there

Remember, choose your idols wisely our subconscious mind is extremely powerful so if your idol's married life is mess even your married life will go for a toss, so choose very wisely whom you follow, don't follow any successful person mindlessly.

If you want to increase energy of Mercury, or if you are facing problems in your business then keep more green plants at your home and use more green colour..

[444rockstargf]

Hii Soo I'm not used to sending requests so I'm sorry if this is gonna be a little difficult or confusing. Have you heard that TikTok sound about how "she wanted five guys and I'm not talking about burgers" I was wondering if you could write something like that with 5 characters that Rory plays I don't mind who if you do decide to write it but I'm so sorry this message is so long

ohhh anon you're creative!

"you want more." | clyde, euronymous, jack, kappa, tyler

art deco. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @angelsanarchy @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @livingdead-materialgirl@romanroyapoligist @oliviah-25@si1nful-symph0ny @auggiethecreator @vanlisbon@livingdead-reilly @imoonkiss @lankysimp @nom-nommmm1 @xxbl00d-cl0txx @k1ll3rh0rr0r @wildathevrt @mommymilkers0526 @greenxgloss @wild-rose-35

female!reader x clyde + r!euro + jack + kappa + tyler

word count: 1.6k

contents: gangbang, unprotected p in v, anal, a little degradation, a little praise, blowjob, public sex, overstimulation, facial, creampies, a little aftercare

like a doll on display in the window of a toy store, you felt 5 pairs of predatory eyes lying on your almost bare figure as you sat on a scrawny little bed in a private room of your favourite nightclub. what a strange set of men. the thought ran through your mind as you stared up at them, studying the group. 

there was a drunk-eyed stoner dressed in baggy clothes that held a muscular figure, a dark-haired metalhead wearing a cropped shirt that showed off a toned torso, a normal-looking man who appeared more off-putting the longer you looked at him, a greasy hippie who was already greedily palming himself, and a short-haired man with a glowing, throbbing rod concealed in his jeans.

you shyly bit your lip, fidgeting with your thumbs as you thought about what was in store for you. this wasn’t what you initially expected during a night out at the club, but you couldn't deny the adrenaline rushing through your veins. you were wearing a pair of silk panties and thigh-high black socks. the first man to take note of your nervous disposition was the stoner, who reached out a hand to gently stroke your cheek with his thumb.

clyde’s gentle touch made you shiver. “well aren’t you just the cutest thing?” he slipped his thumb between your lips, making you suck on it. “i promise not to hurt you tonight, ‘kay?” while his words were meant to bring you comfort, you could only tremble as the four others clearly had intentions of doing the opposite. 

your eyes darted around, spotting the hippie whipping out his cannon. your pupils dilated as 12-inches of meat dangled in the corner of your eye. your clit throbbed at the thought of his pipe abusing your internal organs, beating them to a pulp. and you caught a glimpse of that dream in reality as he hopped on the bed, lifting up your ass and pressing his hips against you and letting you feel the sensation of his throbbing cock through the dampening fabric of your panties.

three belts clanged as they hit the ground in unison. the three others, euronymous, jack and tyler, took their positions on the bed with you, all five of them surrounding you. euronymous firmly grabs your jaw, making you look up at him. you couldn’t help but whimper quietly, from the sight of him and the feeling of kappa starting to toy with your pussy.

clyde rested back against the creaky bed’s headboard, pulling out his erection that was already smeared with precum. tyler sat next to him and as he pulled out his dick, your life momentarily flashed before your eyes. his shaft was unlike anyone else’s in the room. from the balls, it was a shimmery sapphire blue and it faded into a pretty purple at the tip (like this). it was so thick that you tried to wrap your hand around it, failing.

a harsh slap landed down on your ass, making yelp. jack’s hand left a sting as kappa cooed mockingly. “aw did that hurt, sugar?” euronymous tore your panties off of you, tossing the useless strip of fabric to the side as he massaged your hard clit with his thumb. you arched your back, stuffing your face into the mattress until a hand grabbed you by your hair.

“don’t hide that pretty mouth,” tyler grinned, “we’re gonna put you to good use, baby.” clyde flipped his hair out of his face, teasing your lips with the tip of his cock. you eagerly took it in, taking a second to adjust to his size. clyde let out a low groan, already bucking his hips slowly into your mouth.

tyler’s alien cock glowed with arousal as he watched your throat bulge from being filled up. you brought your hand to his dick, it being much colder than clyde’s. you lifted you mouth off of his, with lips being connected by strings of saliva as you slowly took tyler’s tentacle into your mouth. his hand found the back of your head, gently guiding it down. “yeah… nice and easy.”

then they all went at full force. euro, jack and kappa all slammed themselves into you simultaneously. tears flooded your eyes as you felt two cocks stretch out your pussy and one fill up your asshole. right from the jump, you were already gushing on all of them, the wetness of your cunt saturating their rods.

clyde and tyler took off the training wheels, now making you take both lengths into your little mouth at the same time. you struggled, but your sobs provided enough spit to help them go down easily. both men tossed their head back in unison from the feeling of their girths rubbing together.

though you couldn’t see, jack was taking care of your asshole while kappa and euro dealt with your painfully tight pussy. jack slowly massaged your sore hole as he slowly moved himself in and out of you. “does that hurt, sweetie?” his hand had a gentle grip of your waist and he gave it a little squeeze. both your holes clenched, and jack took this as a sign to be a little gentler with you.

“just give me a little kick if you can’t take it. but i know you can. such a good girl…” jack’s words turned your limbs into jelly. he cocked his head to the side slightly, dislodging a few locks from his bun as he pushed himself in your tight muscle, the vibrations of your groans running down tyler and clyde’s bodies.

kappa may have had the size, but euronymous was carrying the speed. he was twice, maybe three times as fast as everyone else one, your ass bouncing each time he slammed himself back into you. he muttered the dirtiest things of all, making a knot tie in your stomach. “goddamnit, you’re tight as a fuckin’ virgin. but we all know that’s not true, don’t we?” 

you felt your cheeks burn with humiliation, much to his dismay. you ground your hips against them, cum dripping down the inside of your thighs. you had already cum a few times, but how would they know? your mouth was completely stuffed, preventing you from getting a single word out.

clyde reached into the pocket of his cargos which were inches away from him on the bed. he took out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a long drag, eyes locked on you as your spit could his cock in a thin layer.

while clyde was calm and collected, tyler was completely losing it. his hips uncontrollably bucked into your mouth as he gripped the bedsheets so tight that his knuckles went pale. his cock was illuminated like a glowstick, throbbing and oozing as it began to drip with a neon green substance.

as the taste hit your tongue, you immediately felt like gagging. but once you got over the burning sizzle of his cum, it began to taste faintly like green apple bubble gum. you swallowed every last drop that he gave you, desperately deepthroating his length to get more of his solution. then the gates of hell broke loose. he couldn’t hold back anymore and he dumped a bucket load of bioluminescent cum into your digestive track.

it erupted out of him like lava, hot and sizzling as you coughed up green bubbles. clyde burst into a fit of laughter as he shoved himself back into you. “what a party trick, dude.” clyde grabbed a fistful of your hair, aggressively fucking your throat, completely losing control of himself.

you gazed up at him through tear-filled eyes as your lips swelled around him. he’d always been a sucker for “blowjob eyes”, so with a few more lazy thrusts he shot hot strings of his seed onto your face, painting on you like you were a pretty picture.

as you received your facial, kappa exclaimed out a string of curses, as you feel your pussy swell as it filled with cum. euronymous’ balls slapped against your clit as he pounded into you, his fingernails digging into your ass as he lost himself in this moment of pure bliss. as hit orgasm hit like a ton of bricks, he yanked himself out of you, pumping himself quickly as shooting his load all over your arched back.

jack took this opportunity to give it his all, now fucking you rapidly in the ass. you cried into the mattress, loads of cum squirting out of your swollen pussy as he destroyed your insides. “o-oh yeah… good fucking girl…” he reached a hand down and started rubbing messy circles on your puffy clit, making your ass clench as he reached his climax.

he groaned deeply, his body shaking enough the snap the elastic band holding his hair up, sending his full strands all over his face. he used you to milk every last drop out of himself before pulling out and examining your sore hole.

you were a total mess, tears running down your face as they all released you at once. you panted heavily, the room spinning as your eyes fluttered shut. your pussy throbbed from the overstimulation, your entire feeling satisfied despite how worn out you were. in this moment, you felt cold leather draping over your bare body, euronymous’ jacket. clyde lit the small candle on the bedside table with his lighter to keep you warm, jack took one of the hair ties on his wrist and pulled your hair out of your face, putting it into a pretty ponytail, tyler pulled a pink lollipop out of his pocket, putting it in your gentle grip. and kappa’s contribution was a soft kiss on the cheek.

they left you in the cool, drafty room, leaving you with an aching body but a very fulfilled heart.

(little drawing of the position yall are in.)

author's note: writing gangbangs is so hard but I love a challenge!

[cherry-pop-elf]

Realistic

George Weasley x Reader

You broke up with your ex, but said ex refuses to believe you moved on. That you found better than him. So, you figured you had to prove you did. Time to call a favor

Warnings: 18+, topics of abusive ex, satisfying revenge, ablism, oral sex (male receiving) public, choking (very light) fake dating, voyeurism, peeping Tom, Very Soft George, cuckholding? Sorta? Not really? But like maybe on a technical level?

Writing Comission’s Open

“George, pretend to be my boyfriend.” You asked, quickly. Hardly gave him a chance to even look over his shoulder, when he saw a man storming into his shop. Looking utterly pissed, and you anxious. He’s got a little sister, and plenty of brothers. As if he needed to put two and two together. His arm was quickly around your side, and he leaned into you. As if it was all natural.

“Was wondering when you would get here, Jellybean!” He announced, making your ex quickly look over to you two. His stare hardened, and George stared right back. Snearing. Keeping up a smug complexion through it all. You quickly stuffed yourself into his arm. As if trying to hide, as your ex came over. Nearly stomping in the process.

“The hell you doing with em-?Your ex demanded. “Uh…..Snuggling? Kissing? Whatever we want in MY shop-?” George would puzzle, as he was wondering where the such nerve came from. George would make sure to keep you close, with a hand on your hip, as he protected you. You would rest your head on his shoulder, and took in the comforting scent of fireworks and sugar. Helped you get grounded, as your ex was looking ready to fight.

“That’s what Im suppose to do, you fucking cripple-“ The man snapped, making you gasp. You were about to say something, but George was quick to slap a hand on your mouth. Knowing damn well what you would say next might get you slapped. As if he wanted that.

“Really? That’s your first course of action? Get creative buddy. Could have said something impressive. Like One Eared Arrogant Bastard. Like that’s creative. Just dropping heavy words like that doesn’t make you smart. Even Malfoy got creative.” George mocked, making you giggle. That was something you admired about him. His ability to go with the flow. Able to fight with words so easy.

“I-“ He tried to say something else, but George cut right in. “Do you sound smart to make up for the fact you don’t have a personality? Even Percy had more of one than you. What about that temper? Short temper isn’t the only thing short, is there?” George egged on and on. Wasn’t long before people were watching, and giggling. Leaving him red faced.

“How about-“ And the man was storming off. You couldn’t help your relief, as you relaxed into George. He seemed gone, but not entirely. You noticed he was still outside. Just far enough away from the shop to not be loitering. That made your stomach drop. Seemed you were dodging a bullet, and George was making sure there was plenty of cover.

“Guess he isn’t buying it…..Wanna help make sure he does?” He offered, as you rose a brow. At this point, you would do anything to get that bastard off your back. Was being a total creep now. Just waiting for you outside. With a nod, you gave your consent. George would soon whistle at someone, who would nod, as he was taking you towards the back.

“Let’s give him a show~” He offered, before you were pushed out of a side door. Your body hit against the neighboring building, as your lips met. You were wide eyed, until you noticed your ex peeking from around the alley way corner. Guess a show will be what it takes. Couldn’t imagine a better person to trust yourself with anyway.

You couldn’t help it either, as you melted into the kiss. Your hands fighting at his suit jacket, while he explored your mouth. Leaving your tongue to taste like sweet orange flavored candy. The scent of ash, the taste of sweet, and the feeling of heat. It was getting you more excited than you wanted to admit.

“Come on, love, on your knees.” He whispered, as he threw the jacket to the ground. Despite how rough he was acting, the fact he gave you his suit jacket for your knees spoke volumes. Even in the heat of the moment, he was trying to make sure you were given the best care. Made your heart sing, as you let your knees rest on the expensive fabric. Right all over the dirty alley way.

He was quick to take his belt off, and adjust his vest and dress shirt. Everything was moving so fast. There was such a thrill from it. A spur of the moment. Just no thoughts, only desire. Was so exciting. Gave you such a pleasure you didn’t know you could get. Weren’t even doing anything. Yet.

“Open that pretty little mouth-“ He asked, and you did. Just as he pulled his cock out from his pants, making your heart pound with excitement. You were really about to do this. You felt like you were in a wet dream. You always did find George so attractive. Never thought you would ever score a chance. Yet, it was this easy. Those Weasleys and their big hearts.

You let the tip pass your lips, and swallowed. His hand was gentle in your hair, as he let you go at your own pace. Not forcing it down your throat, and letting you take your time in adjusting. Letting you control your breathing, as your hands found his thighs. Just those deep breaths of fire works, and sugar. Was hypnotic.

Once you felt well adjusted, you forced your head further down. Your signal to let him keep going, and going he did. How he tangled his fingers in your hair, and forced you deeper down his cock. To the point your nose brushed against that ginger hair. Made you gag, by how much, but you quickly relaxed. Knowing you were in safe hands.

“Better be louder. I’m crippled, after all~” He teases, making you unable to stop the giggle around his cock. That earned you a moan from him, as the vibrations ran up through his body. God did his moans sound like sweet music to your ears. It gave you the motivation to try and take lead a little bit. Pulling yourself to the tip, and moaning around it.

He was soon leaning against the wall of his shop, as he was at your mercy now. His free hand busy with keeping his vest and shirt up. Exposing that slender stomach. Happy trail, freckles, and ink. Such a dashing man, with many scars. You were the lucky one to get to see it. See it all. Like how his face was flushing, and his kept hair ruffling. It was addictive.

Up and down you bobbed, as you kept your grip tight on his slender thighs. Not quite as meaty as his upper arms, given his beater history. Still was great to grab, as you milked him for more sounds. Such as the hisses, and whimpers when you ran your tongue over a vein just right. Oh you didn’t know who was in more heaven.

“Fuck, Im going to cum. Oh fuck-“ He gritted his teeth, and made an attempt to pull you off. How considerate. You figured that kind gesture deserved a reward. So, you fought against his hand. That surprised him, as you would force yourself deep down again. Moaning, as you returned to his base. Looking right up at him, and locking with those pretty doe eyes. That was the last straw.

He let his head roll back, as he came down your throat. You coughed, but you were handling it like a champ. Using those thighs for support, as you watched his stomach spasm from the pleasure you gave him. How those pretty cheeks were so flushed, and his ear so red. Oh what you would give to see more of that.

Once he was breathing steady, you finally pulled off. You panted, as he cupped your cheek. His thumb rubbing away at the spit that ran down your chin. You didn’t know if your ex was still there, and genuinely didn’t care anymore. The tender moment was to sweet to make you think about anything else.

“Say….Think maybe we can do this again some time? Gotta keep up appearances and all~” He winked, as it was your turn to be blushing. All flustered, as he would put himself away. Along with being a gentlemen, and helping you off the ground. With his jacket as well.

With a quick spell, the jacket was clean. Just some tidying up, as you were still a soft pink. Same for himself. A stupid grin on his face was keeping you flushed as well. Especially with the arm hooked around you, as you returned inside. Having to keep up appearances after all. Just for appearances.

“My lunch break should be soon, wouldn’t mind some drinks with you. Gotta wash that down after all.” He offered, making you elbow his delicate rib. He wheezed, but laughed. Yeah. Maybe this fake dating thing will really put your ex in his place. Severs him right for losing such a catch like you. Least George was the lucky one to nab you, wasn’t he?

@george-weasleys-girl

[cambion-companion]

The Devil's Bard

Thank you again for this prompt @superfunething :) Raphael is all-too-eager to have his ego stroked.

Raphael x reader (gn) | drabble

You strummed your lute, having sequestered yourself into a private corner of the Last Light Inn. You began tentatively tuning the old instrument, an heirloom of your family. The ashen wood glistened from the flickering firelight, the warmth of the hearth seeping cozily into the wool of your clothes.

It'd been too long since you'd had time and solitude enough to compose a new song. Since you had collaborated with Alfira, in fact. The itch was there, yet your creative mind had been held captive by none other than a fiend. A cambion. Raphael.

The image of his transformation inside that "House of Hope" where he'd whisked you. His promises spoken in a decadent low voice, rough yet soft. Those eyes, both human brown and devil yellow, staring right through all your outward bluster and bravado.

Wood creaked as you shifted your weight in the mahogany armchair, a discordant noise rose up while you strummed your lute in mild frustration.

Anything else. You would rather create your art around anything else. Flowers, the night sky, the Underdark even. Yet the only thoughts pervading your restless inspiration were those of cherry skin, musky fragrance and a sharp knowing smile.

You whispered the words at first, haltingly and quiet, not wanting to draw attention.

"False hope arrived on hidden wing.

To manor cold and haunted bring,

the weary, wandering and spent.

Those carrying a writhing tenant."

You sighed heavily. Now to create music for your lyrics. You began slow, building the base chords and singing the first verse more confidently after a few rounds. For a moment the world and your troubles melted into the background, your focus a blissfully familiar spotlight upon your work.

You felt sudden pressure as a firm hand gripped your shoulder.

"Hello, my lark." Raphael spoke from behind where you sat, the weight of his gaze upon your head. "As irresistible as the harpy's song, so I too had to investigate what music you were weaving."

He moved around you. Careful measured steps, till he looked down upon you and you up at him. His warm brown eyes caught the glow of firelight as he measured your blushing cheeks and the way you gripped your instrument.

Raphael tilted his head, in an amused air. "Those lyrics rang so familiar." He smiled, that knowing smile you remembered so well. "Almost as though I am the muse behind your making, but that would be presumptuous."

You grimaced. "Speak of the devil."

"Ah, so your little song is about me." Raphael seemed genuinely tickled by this and he chuckled and clapped his hands together once. He took the seat opposite you and slung one of his legs over his other thigh. "Do, please, go on! I so enjoy the extolling arts, especially when revolving around myself."

"What are you doing here, Raphael?" You raised a brow and glanced over your shoulder just in time to see little Mol look away.

"Business, as usual." Raphael leaned forward slightly, his own gaze never deviating from your firelit face. "The richest bounties can be found in the most desperate little havens. But you've learned that already." He smiled, a little sharply. "My most illustrious client. You've sent many souls skittering directly to my door."

"Maybe I should compose a song of warning to stay away from strange men wearing frilly collars." You bit out, your eyes narrowing as you tried again to see where Mol had disappeared to.

"That's the spirit!" Raphael chortled again and gestured graciously to your lute. "Spirit you have in such brilliant abundance, little lark. I find you ever more delightfully ebullient."

"A compliment, were it not for your nature." You said, a little terse of tongue now, growing uncomfortable with how attracted to this fiend you were becoming.

"Does it keep you up at night?" Raphael frowned, a hint of mockery in his cadence. "Tossing and turning upon that cold, hard ground. Desperate to dwell upon anything but the devil in your corner. Oh, come now." His hand found your knee and pressed you back down as you shifted to stand up. "Indulge me! We are friends. After all, what else are little birds for? Sing me your sweet song while I devise for you a safe, gilded cage."

[honestsycrets]

Amor y Respeto II: Corazón [Miguel O'Hara x Reader]

chapter I: mi alma

❛ pairing | miguel o’hara x reader

❛ type | continuation of one shot.

❛ summary | you're trying to forget miguel with hobie's help on the field. but miguel isn't quite ready to let go.

❛ tags | jealousy, latina reader, slightly nsfw (only nudity), spanish is not translated, some mention of blood and wounds, violence, some paranoia, miguel is not pleased, an attempt was made at british slang, some creative liberties.

❛ sy’s notes | gif credit to aehanse. a little reference to gilgamesh with a golden bull in this chapter because i wanted a simple anomaly and for some reason a golden bull just makes me giggle a bit.

Miguel only left Nueva York for very important reasons. Very important reasons usually entailed a little stress relief at the end of a very stressful day. Very important reasons like your gentle fingertips running over his sweaty chest. Very important reasons like your plush lips wrapped around his--

“No chance,” Lyla chittered in his ear. “There’s the whole ‘I don’t love you’ thing. And that kiss?” 

A headache was brewing: everything twinkled, glistened, and refracted light.

“I was there, Lyla. Could do without the reminder.” 

“Really because--” 

“I can fix it,” Miguel growled, clawing past the tall buildings rife with beautiful flowers. It was your favorite time of year. The perfect time to go to the balcony and wait for him to follow behind, to pick off the yellow pollen that dusted his burnt umber hair.

When he finally breached your plant-filled balcony, the window was open despite his warnings to keep it closed. You loved the light and drew the blinds open day by day to let in the bright light of the day. In contrast, he could have done without the bright light streaming in during his early morning visits. That wasn’t wholly the issue. The issue was anyone who wanted to watch you sleep in your love-rustled sheets could. He could.

Miguel’s hands hooked on his slender hips. He glanced at the offensive presence of a singular powdery pink rose in a vividly graffitied cup that he hadn’t given you. He didn't need to guess to know who had. As your shorthair cat trotted into your bedroom, he realized that the rest of the apartment was empty. He wouldn’t be mewing at him if you were singing in the kitchen and making cookies that he shouldn’t eat. It's little, you would guilt him and squish a bite-sized morsel in his mouth. 

Miguel jerked his head to the side and threw a look at Lyla. She threw up her hands in response. They came to the same conclusion. “The roof?” 

There wasn't a worse time to climb the last few floors of your apartment. Light battered his senses as the sun crested past the rooftops of your city and emitted pastel crystal hues. Soon, the night would fall on your busy city and cloak it in darkness. In the darkness, problems always arose.

"Se dice-- never mind, it's a pastellio," you brushed off the small chunks of crystal that nipped at your forearms and picked a chunk up off of a paper-thin napkin. The crumbly remnants held their own memories. Memories of your fingers sealing pastry dough over a cool picadillo, arguing about the quality of HQ cafeteria’s empanadas all by yourself despite knowing that he liked them. They didn’t taste the same lately.

“Tastes like a meat pie,” Hobie waggled a crusty corner. “Must be a meat pie.” 

You brought the rim of an opaque brown glass bottle to your lips. The malt drink coursed down your throat slowly, leaving your throat cool and refreshed. Just the way you wanted to feel after a long day of work. “If that’s a meat pie, this is beer.” 

Hobie-- Miguel sneered. There had some alternative, impure reason he was here. Maybe it was to piss him off, to distract him from the work really at hand. If that was it, he lamented, he was doing a good job. Why else would he be here?

“A kiddy beer,” he flicked over one of his empty beer bottles. “Listen. You coming to see the concert?” 

“Whose?” 

“Mines, who else?” he answered. “Gwen’ll be there.” 

“It’s not really my scene, Hobie,” you said. “Don't you think I’m a bit old for that sort of thing?” 

“Old?” Hobie chirped after you. You swayed under the force of his playful punch to your shoulder and returned one to his willowy arm. Your eyes turned back to the crystalized sun dipping beneath the horizon. He sucked his tongue against the roof of his tongue. “Letting that muppet shoot his cum in ya is the only thing that’s gonna make you old. Complicit. You wanna be complicit?” 

“¡Fo! Gross, stop,” you dropped your drink to the side and flopped back onto the unforgiving concrete roof. But he had a point, your palm migrated over your belly. His spunk was probably still wiggling around in your stomach. Miguel simpered in the shadows.

“You never see these autocrats for who they are," he lamented.

“It has nothing to do with… Hobie. Hobie, my love isn’t politic--”

“Everything is political.” 

“Hobie, I take care of him-- them,” you motioned to your city, glittering in the fading sunlight. “For love and laughter. That’s what we all deserve. Love and laughter. Miguel wants it too, he’s just,” Incapable or unwilling, you suppressed. “Complicated.” 

“Complicated,” Hobie spat out as though it offended him. “It ain't complicated to me. He don’t love you. Half the time he don’t even like you.” 

“But I love him.” 

“His love? It ain’t enough.” 

“It matters to me.” 

A low growl emanated from his deep chest. It was enough to cause your heads to wrack around in his direction. Miguel steeled his body against the wall he dangled from, shielded in the dark crystally shadows of a mural.

“Should we--” you stared at the wall, eyes narrowing.

Fuck.

“Ain’t nothing to be worried about. Probably a rat— a big rat,” Hobie lurched over your body. His long and lanky arms caged your body beneath him. It was a universe apart from Miguel’s well-corded arms, broad and strong. Arms that, at the moment, Miguel used not to spring off the wall.

“It’s his muscles.”

“¡Ay cállate! Why is it always his muscles?” You ruptured into laughter and reached up to push him away by his thick wicks. You crawled out from underneath Hobie and stretched out your arms behind your back. Tension unwound from Miguel with an exhale of stale air from his lungs.

“You got a type,” Hobie lazed his elbow over his knee. 

“You don’t know any of my exes, Hobie,” you swept up your trash and covered your head with your rebozo-like cowl. At that exact moment, your watch blared. “And you ain’t know mine, either.”

“Vente, Corazón. I have a call.”

Corazón?

“Can’t handle it yourself?” Hobie hopped up and adjusted his guitar, slouching off his shoulder. 

“Just because I can, doesn't mean I have to,” you took a step to the edge of the rooftop. You turned your hands up. “C'mon, I’ll even make you cookies.” 

Make him cookies. You would change out of your blood-smattered outfit into a little slip to make Hobie, a man that you knew he had a very poor opinion of, cookies. A man that was reckless in life, reckless in HQ, and would not take orders that didn’t benefit his perception of the world. His breathing hitched, heavy and sharp, to keep his rage in check. If you respected him, you would never invite Hobie anywhere near your apartment. Especially not at night. What were you thinking? 

“That your way of keeping me for the night?” Hobie asked. “Think I’ll get lucky?”

“Is it working?” 

You looked Hobie over once, starting at his boots and ending at Hobie’s pierced lip. Your lips budded in a terrible smile. A look that Miguel did not like, not at all. You turned and stepped off the building, out of his field of vision. Hobie followed soon after.

The sun faded far past the horizon, cloaking Miguel in solitary indigo darkness. His fingers teased the ochre face of his watch-- he had things to do.

You didn’t need backup. 

You crawled out of the rubble of one of your favorite flower shops. Bits of lavender crystal embedded in your arm drew blood down your arm. As of late, it felt as though you couldn’t do anything right. Hobie was a consistent fixture in your life and fixed the amateur mistakes you were making day by day without mentioning your incompetence. He was good to you.

This time was different. You recognized this anomaly from another time, but not another place. It was here, at the intersection of Cereza and Trini, that months ago that Miguel and you-- No, you did not need backup. You didn’t need him.

The thick, muscular leg of the stupid bull stormed by. The thing was comically obnoxious. Just as obnoxious as the ache in your chest every morning when you woke up alone in your bed with Miguel visiting… not even once in the past few days. You wondered if he even thought of you.

“Miss Spider lady, are you okay?” a little girl with thick brown pom-pom puff hair and the warmest caramel eyes asked. Usually, she sold singular flowers at the cash register of her parent’s shop. You hated to think what hardship would come to them because of your inadequacy. If you could control your emotions, as Miguel rang true, this never would have happened.

“Si, si, Zaniah,” your head spun with the pain radiating from your side. You broke something, and of course, it wasn’t healing. You blamed him. Your feet stumbled forward in a line. You didn’t want to see the headlines of this one. Most spiders dealt with villains worth the name, villains with prowess. You? A shiny fucking bull from heaven. “No te preocupes, go, go.” 

“Mami, mami!” the little girl shrieked and bolted, her flowy purple cape dissipated as she disappeared into the back. You felt bad for the mother that would have to deal with that for the next few days as you broke into a run, flexing your wrist for webbing. 

If you could just-- trip the damn thing. Then, somehow, with enough time you could… oh, you didn’t know, bind its legs? Or bind its legs first then tip? But where would you even tip without casualties? Maybe, if you were lucky, you could lure it to the river-- but that was on the outskirts of town. You were running out of time. You had to deal with it. Had to. What would that little girl think? What would Miguel think? 

“You sure you don’t need backup?” Lyla asked, her gilded frame bending at the waist. "Because you look like you need backup."

“Si,” you hissed. “I am sure, Lyla. I don’t need anyone. And I especially don't need Miguel. I got this.” 

Your red boots connected with its fuzzy back. Its great, golden chain skid across the concrete floor, emitting an awful hissing noise. You seized its collar and jammed your heels into its back to try and force the thing to heel. It wasn’t. Despite your strength, you weren’t strong enough to do it on your own. The pressure on the side of your rib cage was becoming immense. Breathing became a chore. 

“No you don’t,” she sang. 

It was moments later that the bull howled pitifully. It slid on its side, crunching old cars and taking out rusty street lamps under its thick muscle. Despite digging your heels in, the damn thing whirled you off like a children’s dreidel. The force of the impact thrust you off its back and into a rusty tow truck. The pain burned low in your back. Hobie: to the rescue again. At some point, you were going to have to give him something better than cookies.

“Get up,” rasped your backup, cloaked in vast dark blue and red. Not Hobie, then. Your hazy eyes were playing tricks on you. You heaved out rattly breaths as you obeyed, or tried to obey the dumb big man in your life.

It felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. Heavy and hard, your limbs fought the attempt to move. Before you could complain a minute further about how fucking infuriating it was to have him run to your aid, your world eclipsed into the darkness. 

You woke up with a pulsing headache and the very unwelcome sight of Jess. Through her yellowy glasses, you recognized her colorful kaleidoscope of emotions: annoyance, derision, and eventually… relief. It wasn’t the infirmary. The bed was too comfortable for that. You quickly realized that you were in his room with nothing but one of his annoying tech bandages mummified to your chest. You knew from that alone that you were in for it-- if not for her face becoming increasingly more stoic. They should have been siblings.

“You needed backup,” her arms encircled her belly. “Didn’t you?” 

Your eyes fell to the soft sheets that tickled your skin. Breathing was still hard, harder with the anxiety of knowing a lecture was headed your way. You couldn’t lie to Jess. Tears pricked your cheeks and you tried to steel your heart from them.

It was impossible. His room overwhelmed you: from his rich scent that perfumed the sheets you laid on to the air you breathed. He was close by. That alone was more stress than you could handle.

“I know Jess. I needed backup. Pero, the anomaly, it was-- I thought I could handle it.” 

“Pero nothing,” she held a gloved hand up. “Girl, I don’t need your excuses.” 

“But I’ve called Hobie too much this week.” 

“Is Hobie the only one here? You could have called me. Or-- and I’m just being crazy here. Miguel? Your man?” she rolled her head toward the back of the room. She must not have heard. You followed her gaze to where he stood, his uniform flopped unceremoniously about his waist. Your heart strummed and skipped a beat. With her words, Miguel turned his eyes up from the wound at his waist-- to your eyes. They pierced your heart in the darkness. He would have come.

“You know what? I’ll just leave you two alone.” 

“No, no, no Jess, por favor--” She left without another word. Punishment in its own right. Your hand approached your chest, covering your cleavage from his sight. His hand swayed over the pad to lock the door shut. 

Your head dropped back on his flat pillows. Whether it was the bundles of discomfort at his presence or actual shots of pain, the awkward silence was growing increasingly too much for you to handle. He brought you here, into his bed, for a reason you couldn’t understand. You both were done. Finished. Miguel didn’t seem to think so.

“You act as if I haven’t seen you naked before.”

Maybe, he had seen you naked before. He had no right to anymore. You opened your eyes to look at him, noting the strong scent of sweat permeating his skin and the warm sheen that dusted his chest. You had your increased senses to thank for that. You swallowed air in forceful gulps and burrowed painful shockwaves in your chest. If nothing else, you could at least swallow pain with some honor.

Everything that Miguel did had a purpose. You couldn’t help but eye the way his thumbs looped around his waistband to draw his pants lower, freeing his swarthy skin from indigo fabric. Your eyes fell on his flaccid cock that sat on a tuffet of his thick black pubic hair, chased the curve sight of his shapely ass, and settled on his strong rideable thighs. It was the least egregious sight to stare at. He slipped the suit over his shoulder, raising his brown brows in unison. 

“And as if you haven’t seen me naked before, either.” 

“It… it’s been a while.” Your eyes darted past his figure to the door. You were sure it was locked.

"Has it really?" Miguel threw out as he disappeared into his bathroom. For a moment, you debated running. Your heart ached with the knowledge that he would just come to find you. He left knowing that you would not disobey him because, after everything, you respected his wishes. 

What Miguel's wishes were today was up for debate. The only thing you were sure of was the gentle pitter-patter of water droplets, the steam that emanated from the bath, and his lofty figure swaying in the distance. The warm certainty that filled your body knowing that he would come back to bed. Because that’s what Miguel did when you were hurt: he paid attention. 

He came back into the room nude, ruffling his hair with a fluffy towel. You couldn’t convince yourself to act as if you were asleep. His presence shattered any illusion of ignoring him, even with the expressionless way he considered you tonight. He was utterly intolerable.

After an eternity boxed in with your thoughts, reality came as Miguel, a smooth wall of muscle, clambered into the bed. The bed shifted under Miguel’s weight. Just as you predicted, the warmth of his chest was against your slight back and his large palm was flat against your stomach. 

You broke up with him for a reason, you broke up with him for a reason— Miguel didn’t seem to care about those delicate details. He caressed your neck with his nose. His lips dragged over your unmarked skin. As certain as a clock was to click, your body became slick with anticipation. You knew he could tell. 

You were weak. Weak out there. Weak in here. Weak everywhere.

“You smell… different.”

“Miguel, por favor,” you breathed, thready and thin. “It’s just Hobie.”

“Hobie?” he growled. Miguel’s hand encompassed the large space of your belly. Your legs shifted as Miguel held you a little firmer. You expected his hand to move lower, but he didn’t.

“Hm. Why would it be Hobie?” he asked, his voice dripping dangerously low. “Is there something I should know, Corazón?”

“No, I, no,” you stammered. He knew. Though you said the words, they felt cut off from what you were saying. As though the threat of his rejection took over all the confidence in your world. "You were watching?"

You turned in his arms to face him. His forehead creased in disapproval. You opted to press your forehead against his, running your nose against his, breath puffing his lips.

"You thought I wouldn't," he said. His eyes spun with sharpness, searching your face for evidence of the truth. As though he were asking if you’d been unfaithful despite the breakup. Your face was always pitifully easy to read. Even with the breakup, he could read your intentions as clearly as the words on his lab screens.

"I didn't think you cared."

You were used to a Miguel who crept into your bedside window, slunk into your bed, and woke you up from your slumber with the weight of his body between your legs. A Miguel that only had time for brief moments of pleasure and successful results. This Miguel was different.

"You know I do."

And there it was. He pushed himself free of the bed in search of pants. You watched him pull them over his ass before he flopped into the one chair in the middle of his room, head in his hand. Lyla, he rumbled something under his breath you couldn’t quite hear. Your senses were dull, something you equated to the exhaustion and sleepiness that threatened to overtake you at any given moment. 

“Something is different. And it isn’t him,” he sneered. 

You missed the warmth of his body against yours. The ginger way he touched you just moments before. After days of being without his touch, you missed the simple things. Like the way he touched you. The way he focused on you alone in a room full of others. You hated yourself for craving it. You made a choice. Why couldn’t you stick with it? 

“What did I do wrong now?” Your tongue felt thick and heavy in your mouth. It was the very cottonmouth you feared you would have when telling Miguel about Gwen and Miles. Your mind was too hazy to rationalize what you possibly could have done this time. Miguel would always be an impenetrable castle, one you could admire from afar but never enter. 

“Nothing!” He snapped. You recoiled from the shrill in his voice. Miguel ran his hand through his hair, easing his tone down to a murmur. He threw you a small, bittersweet glance. Almost a smile. “Muñeca, you did nothing wrong. Get some rest.” 

He sat there a moment longer. A frown grew on his lips as Miguel stood up and walked toward the door. After one, two, then three attempts to open the door, his closed fist slammed a hole into the siding. It finally whirled open and allowed him to exit. It left you in the sea of silence that was his dark room. You never liked waking up in his room alone. It was bare, too bare, for anyone to live in. You worried that his mind was just like that.

“Lyla? Lyla, I want to go home.” 

It was a long time-- too long-- before she answered. “You should sleep.” 

And though she advised that, it was a restless night.

[haunted-house-heart]

i'm taako from tv btw. if you even care

[nox140497]

My Boys (Sams version)

Request: No

Prompt: No

Summery: Y/N witnesses a sweet little moment between Sam and Colby and relises that these are her boys.

Pairings: Sam Golbach x Female Reader

Masterlist

Prompt List

Y/N had always believed that the true beauty of life lies in those little moments of love and endearment. And one drizzly afternoon in their cozy house in Los Angeles, she witnessed a moment that would forever be etched in her heart.

Y/N's boyfriend, Sam, and his childhood best friend, Colby, had been inseparable since they were kids. Despite life's twists and turns, they had managed to maintain their strong bond throughout the years. The trio now lived together in a charming house, their sanctuary, filled with laughter, creativity, and love.

On this particular day, Y/N found herself in the living room, engrossed in a novel. The sound of Sam's laughter drifted through the air, drawing her attention. Curiosity piqued, she set her book aside and stealthily crept towards the source of mirth. Peering around a corner, she discovered Sam and Colby in the kitchen engrossed in a passionate baking session.

Sam, wearing an apron splattered with flour, was meticulously measuring ingredients and adding them to a mixing bowl. Colby, equally adorned in flour, was busy whisking eggs with the utmost concentration. The kitchen was a whirlwind of warm aromas and playful banter.

Y/N quietly observed as Sam and Colby moved around each other with a synchronicity that only comes from years of friendship. They seamlessly complemented each other's actions, as if they shared a secret language only they understood.

As the cake batter began to take shape, Sam dipped his finger into the bowl, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Colby, you know what we're missing? A little bit of magic." With that, he leaned in, softly smearing a dot of batter on Colby's nose. Both burst into laughter, their joy filling the room.

Y/N's heart swelled with a profound sense of gratitude. In that moment, she realized how lucky she was to be a part of their lives, their love, and their captivating friendship. They had opened their hearts to her, welcoming her into their circle without hesitation. Now, she understood why they referred to themselves as "her boys."

The aroma of the cake rose from the oven, filling the house with a delightful scent. Y/N emerged from her hiding spot, her gaze locking with Sam's. He smiled, a tender expression that held a thousand unspoken words. She crossed the room, stepping into his warm embrace.

Sam's voice broke the silence. "Y/N, welcome to our world of mischief and love. You are our anchor, the one who brings us together and completes our little family."

With tears welling in her eyes, Y/N whispered, "I am honored to be a part of it, to cherish these moments with you both."

As they stood there, enveloped in love, Y/N knew that this was just the beginning. The house in Los Angeles resonated with a sense of belonging, with the promise of countless sweet and endearing moments yet to come. And together, Y/N, Sam, and Colby would continue to nurture their friendship, forever grateful for the extraordinary bond that they shared.

[roseglazedlens]

I lieu of October coming up, how would some of the resident evil characters spend Halloween with the reader? ♡♡♡

𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗛𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗡 ✧.*

┇LEON S. KENNEDY┇CARLOS OLIVEIRA┇ETHAN WINTERS┇ ┇CLAIRE REDFIELD┇ASHLEY GRAHAM┇ADA WONG┇ content: SFW! Ada's part is slightly suggestive! a/n: thank you for the request! I had problem with some of these for a while, but with halloween around the corner i found the festive vibes for this!! hope you enjoy, dear! thank you for requesting again!! « masterlist┇reblogs appreciated! »

LEON S. KENNEDY

Leon doesn't usually dress up. It's out of the way for him to do so usually. But he can be bribed with a good meal and hug.

Old man thinks he's too cool to enjoy Halloween. But he actually really enjoyed dressing up in his low budget vampire suit from the discounted section of a Halloween store.

This is the only time in the year he would slick back his hair with gel in spite of how you think it looks really good on him, framing his features and accentuating his blue eyes. He is very stubborn and likes his hair down.

Now he wears the same costume every year. So much that you're getting really sick of it. He insists that it makes him look good (and it does)

He tries to act cool, but he hates horror movies. When you are watching it together, his hand will be clasping your arm tight, shaking a little.

"Are you sure you don't want to watch something else?" You would ask, and he would respond with: "Pfft. Me? I'm not scared at all."

CLAIRE REDFIELD

Halloween is Claire's favourite holiday! She LOVES it.

And so does the kids in her neighbourhood. She always has a huge smile on her face with trick or treaters, will compliment everyone's costumes and give away extra treats.

I see her going all out for Halloween parties. She learnt SFX makeup and a bit of sewing so that her costumes and make-up are really scary.

Which is a stark contrast with her brother, Chris. He thinks dressing up is a chore and a waste of time. When he does dress-up, it's always in uniform (e.g. firefighter, cop). He thinks it makes him look cool. (He's not wrong but, what is up with Chris and uniforms?)

Already planned out her costumes for the next five years (Ideas keep changing too). She definitely wishes there are more days in Halloween because she has so many ideas.

CARLOS OLIVEIRA

Carlos is a menace during Halloween.

In no way is Carlos the best at making costumes or doing scary make-up, but Carlos is very creative.

Years ago, Carlos disguised himself as a stuffed doll sitting on the porch. Gave all the kids the fright of their life. He will watch them scram away in fear, and bellows a laugh. (traumatising kids is his favourite pasttime)

Another year, he devised a mechanism that springs up a shadowed figure anytime someone rings his doorbell.

He became infamous in his neighbourhood for his antics, and it's now an attraction for both kids and grown-ups every Halloween.

I also see him and Claire becoming really good friends from their united love for Halloween!

ASHLEY GRAHAM

I headcanon Ashley to crochet, so with Halloween coming, I see her crocheting a spooky themed sweater top, or a granny square bag to embrace the season.

I think Ashley loves to host Halloween parties. With the size of her dad's house, she can accomodate a lot of friends. Often going over the top with themes and decorations.

This year's theme is Harry Potter. She custom ordered a 3 metre (10 feet) tall animatronic of a Dementor in her party and everyone loved it!

She also loves bingeing spooky movies during Halloween. Ashley loves horror movies so much! I don't see her screaming at horror movies, she has grown an immunity to them from watching too many.

ETHAN WINTERS

We already know Ethan has meticulously planned for Halloween almost a month in advance just for Rose.

He is determined to make Rose experience the best childhood, and that includes Halloween too.

Ethan loves matching costumes (would never admit it though), especially with Rose and you too.

When he finishes dressing up Rose, he snaps a million pictures of her, claiming he will show it to Rose when she's all grown up. And Rose will say "Dad, I don't want to take any more photos. The treats are gonna run out!"

Very protective. If anyone has a scary costume, he will steer Rose away from the scary man. Same for people who are underdressed, or is just generally creepy. Not on his watch.

ADA WONG

Halloween is not Ada's cup of tea. She goes out of her way to avoid going out during these days.

For trick or treaters, she leaves a candy bowl on her porch for kids to help themselves. Ada enjoys seeing the silly costumes the kids wear, but she despises interacting with them.

If you are special to Ada, she will put on a sexy Halloween outfit in the privacy of your quarters just for you. She won't take responsibility for whatever you guys might do afterwards. But those are just for your eyes only.

Ada watches horror movies with a blank face. At this point, nothing phases her anymore. I think she'll find them boring and slightly frustrating, with the stupid things the protagonists do to get themselves in danger. She rather watch true crime instead.

thanks for reading! come check out my other works. —yours truly, rose. tags: @valsthea @kennedyswhore @emilzke @daydreamrot @j3llyd0nut @ovaryacted @obsolescent © roseglazedlens — please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.

[fanfic-obsessed]

Somehow Palpatine Returned

Ok I had a hilarious thought and I need to share it with all of you. I don’t normally venture into the Sequels, for all that I have been a FinnPoe and a FinnPoeRey shipper for years, or into anything close to canon,  but I want to share this with you. 

Picture if you will the moment where Poe is telling the audience that ‘Somehow Palpatine has returned’. Ponder for a moment Obi Wan Kenobi, in the Force, at that moment. The look on his face. 

We are going with, somehow, Palpatine managed to hide his real identity from the Force Ghosts so they did not know he was still alive. 

We are also, from my own personal headcanon, going with the idea that Obi Wan severely dislikes (as close to hate as he is capable of) Palpatine and has for almost fifty years at this point.  Like 90% of the horrible things that happened in Obi Wan’s adult life can be traced back to Palpatine (both directly and indirectly).

At the moment that Poe reveals that Palpatine is back, in the Force Obi Wan starts swearing. He starts swearing in every language he knows. He starts mixing languages in his swears. He starts inventing new curses and new languages to be able to express his displeasure at the news. 

Obi Wan Kenobi is about ready to materialize into the mortal plane for the sole purpose of ripping Palpatine’s arm off and beating him with it (in a way that violates all manner of physics and Force). 

Slightly to the Left of Obi Wan, Anakin Skywalker is staring at his grandson in mild horror going ‘why are you…this’. 

The Force starts manifesting people to calm Obi Wan Kenobi down (For fear that Obi Wan will break…everything). First Force Sensitives and Jedi he cared for, then Clones, then non force sensitives, even a few old enemies.  

Note 1: Maul appears at one point and screams ‘Kenobi’ for a really long time, to the point that everyone else (other than Obi Wan) looks at him. He shrugs and goes ‘I just wanted to get your attention’ then goes to sit down next to Satine so they can both score Obi Wan’s curses while splitting a bottle of Force Wine. 

Note 2: Maul and Satine have a weirdly cordial relationship for being a pacifist government official ex girlfriend of a Jedi and the Sith Warlord that murdered her in front of said Jedi, but they have found in the afterlife that they both get joy from the face Obi wan makes when they argue about something inane with him. Also they may be each scoring Obi Wan’s swears (with the occasional addition of Yoda, Dooku, Ventress, and Padme) but they are using different metrics so their scores are vastly different at all time (Maul is scoring on Creativity, Violence, and the number of organs violated; Satine is scoring on creativity, number of languages used, how poetic/rhythmic, and how well it translates into basic).

A battalion's worth of clones are arrayed around Obi Wan, taking notes. Quinlan Vos appears and vanishes in rapid succession as he helps to calm then egg Obi Wan on (at which point the Force yanks him away only to be convinced to put him back). Cody tries to calm Obi Wan down for precisely three minutes, then he realizes what has Obi Wan so steamed. At that point he goes ‘no this reaction is completely valid’ and starts discussing how one would make some of those curses a reality (as they do violate physics, the Force, and human structural integrity. Also Palpatine does not even have some of those organs) with Qui Gonn Jinn, who is deeply amused but happy to bond with his pseudo son in law. 

Plo Koon wanders through and announces that he is adopting all of the new stormtroopers both dead and living (in the mortal plane Finn, Rose, and others suddenly get the feeling that they have been absconded with and have no idea why). 

In one corner Anakin, still despairing over Kylo Ren/Ben Solo and his life choices, is having an ongoing yet supremely awkward family reunion with one or more of the following at any given point and time: his wife, whom he had a hand in killing; his daughters adoptive parents, whom he helped murder; his daughter’s husband, who he tortured, froze in carbonite, and sold to a bounty hunter; and his step brother and step sister in law that rose his son on a planet that Anakin hated, whom he only didn’t torture because he never remembered they existed; Assorted Jedi who he had been close to, whom he might of had a hand in murdering.

That one corner has so much passive aggressiveness that it is insane.  A lot of Anakin asking out loud why Kylo Ren is…like that with one or more of the previously listed people going ‘Maybe if his grandfather didn’t become a Sith, Ben wouldn’t have gotten the idea’. Which is both slightly unfair, as Anakin had been dead by the time Ben Solo was born, but also funny as anything. 

Also no one in that corner was actually discussing their elephant in the room, which was Anakin turned out to be THE PROBLEM for two decades. 

There is an ever growing parade of everyone Obi Wan has ever met being thrown at him by the Force because the Force effectively went: SHIT that is a lot of anger. Deflect.Deflect.

[starsstuddedsky]

Slice of Love

Haechan x reader

summary: birthday cake and boyfriend material

genre: fluff, non idol au, not really angst but haechan is so dramatic

warnings: swearing, food/dessert, i dont know anything about art, pls lmk if i missed any

wc: 1.8k (who is she???)

a/n: finally wrote something short and sweet :) it's been so long since i've done that lol. this is heavily inspired by 7dream cafe cake-making and my full belief that none of these boys should be unsupervised in the kitchen. thank you to @chocolatemilk139 for being my beta as always <3 (even though you didnt edit anything smh)

It’s not horrendous.

Donghyuck stares at the cake in front of him. The process started well: he made the tester cake last week week that the council (also known as his friends) approved with generous support (“wait, what’s actually kind of good,” from Jeno, “it’s edible,” from Renjun, “the hint of orange really sells it,” from Jaemin, “it’s not burnt so it’s already better than anything I could make,” from Mark, “you didn’t buy this?” from Chenle, and Jisung, who just stared at him with wide eyes). 

No, the problem isn’t the batter. He slaved over it all last night and chose the two cakes that rose most evenly in the oven. Everything but his tears went into making them. 

“Wow,” Renjun says, leaning over the counter. “You fucked up.” 

Donghyuck smacks him, leaving a trail of lavender buttercream on the wool sweater. 

“Hey, that’s going to be a bitch to get out!” Renjun cries. 

“Cry me a river,” Donghyuck says, “which is a good song, but also, you deserve it. It’s not that bad.” 

Renjun raises his eyebrows but Donghyuck raises a spoonful of extra frosting. Renjun backs off. 

Despite his strong defense, Donghyuck fears Renjun may be right. Though the cake stands tall, crumbs mix in with the frosting on the sides. What was supposed to be an artistically plump edging around the base of the cake and around the top corner looks like it exploded out of the piping bag (because it did, popping the cap off several times). In his head, the center would be filled with flowers and hearts and all sorts of pretty shapes in all sorts of pastel colors—but by the time he got to the center, he’d fully given up on piping bags, meaning he had to get creative for the flowers. Instead of flowers, he made blobs of frosting pushed off a spoon. In some spots he accidentally mixed the colors together, a green one shade away from brown, not at all like the field in the pictures on his Pinterest board. 

Jeno appears next, wandering out of his room. He misses Renjun’s warning glare, though Donghyuck doesn’t. He steps right next to Donghyuck, tilting his head. “What is this supposed to be again?” 

“What do you think?” Donghyuck asks evenly. 

Oblivious or uncaring, Jeno pauses to ponder. “A really ugly version of Shrek’s swamp?” 

“Get out.” 

“Get out of ma’ swamp!” Jeno attempts a Scottish accent, authenticity as questionable as the flower field in Donghyuck’s cake. Jeno retreats with Renjun on the couch, dodging Donghyuck’s frosting spoon. It would be a waste of the delicacy on his stupid dri-fit t-shirt, which he wears even when he doesn’t work out. 

“It’ll be fine,” Jaemin says. “It’ll taste good, which is the important part.” He sits at the counter, the only one to offer moral support while Donghyuck decorated. But his attempts at comfort are in vain; Donghyuck doesn’t just want the cake to taste good, he wants it to taste perfect, to look perfect, for all of it to be perfect. It’s the least you deserve. 

Donghyuck ignores the banging on his door, letting one of the guys let Chenle and Jisung in (no one else would threaten to break down a metal door instead of waiting the five seconds it takes to unlock the door). 

“We come bearing food!” Chenle shouts, plastic bag singing in his hand as Jisung follows precariously carrying a stack of pizza boxes. Far more food than needed, but Donghyuck won’t skimp out on you. Chenle tosses his bag full of snacks on the table, crossing the room to see the ‘masterpiece’ Donghyuck spent the past week hyping up. 

“Dude, are you seriously going to give that to YN?” 

“Are you trying to get dumped?” Jisung asks. “Ow!” he cries when Chenle smacks him. 

“Your welcome,” he says, “though he sort of has a point, that looks like literal shit.” 

“Does it really?” Donghyuck pouts. 

Chenle points at one of the browner spots. “You’re telling me that’s not a piece of shit?” 

“They were supposed to be flowers.” 

Jaemin, Renjun, and Jisung manage to cover their laughs as coughs but Chenle and Jeno let out a bark of laughter. 

“Yeah, you’re screwed,” Chenle says, clapping him on his shoulder that sags even lower than his normal bad posture. “You could call Mark and get him to pick up a cake on his way.” 

“He’s bringing YN,” Donghyuck says glumly. “Besides, I already told YN that I would make it myself. I’m not going to be a failure and a liar.” 

“It’s really not that bad,” Jaemin says, ignoring the chorus of dissent from the rest of the guys. “It’ll taste good!” 

Donghyuck shrugs. He can’t explain it, at least not so that they can understand him. He knows perfection is a subjective definition that he’ll never be able to fulfill but he strives for it anyway. If it isn’t perfect then why would he do it at all? Even if it’s his first time attempting this level of artwork, he should at least be able to make something that looks okay, or recognizable. 

And you—you deserve more than a dry store-bought mess and more than a half-assed attempt at love. You’ve only been together for a couple months but he’s determined to prove himself. A birthday was the perfect opportunity, even when you’ve known him for years and spent plenty of birthdays with him. This was his chance to show you the boyfriend material he’s made of, except instead of black velvet or creamy silk, Donghyuck thinks this cake is the work of a neon yellow polyester shirt worth less than $2 at the thrift store. 

“Mark just texted that he just parked,” Jaemin announces. He glances at Donghyuck. “You ready?” 

Donghyuck glances at himself. His hands are covered in frosting that’s dried and crusted, spread up his arms. His Kiss the Chef apron protected his shirt and most of his pants from the damage, but the mess is the least of his concerns. There’s nothing he can do about the disaster (he’s given up calling it anything else) in front of him. Shrek’s Swamp or a toilet bowl, it’s definitely not a flower field and it’s definitely not what you deserve. But it’s all he’s got. 

The final punch hits with a gentle knock at the door. Donghyuck crosses the room to his doom, stepping past his silent friends who bow their heads in respect for the walking dead. He pulls open the door slowly. He sees your shoes first, white sneakers you spent three hours with a Sharpie decorating, full of hearts and stars and unmistakable flowers—daisies and chrysanthemums and lavender, more than he can name. 

You wear your favorite jeans, loose bootcut that tighten at the thighs, hugging you in all the right places. A loose shirt hangs from your shoulders, one of the bands you always play for him with lots of bass and visceral lyrics that romanticize suffering. A family of silver earrings dangle from your ears, and he recognizes each of your favorites, the miniature swords, sparkling star shaped studs, a curly twist of metal that wraps around the higher part of ear. You look perfect. 

Donghyuck has always loved the way you smile, a gentle turn of your lips, like the happiness belongs to only you. You lean forward, pressing a short kiss to his lips, a peck more than anything. Donghyuck stares at you, eyes wide. You gesture to his apron. “Just following the rules.” 

He smiles though it fades as soon as he sees the frosting–no, the evidence of his failures, spread down the black fabric. “Happy birthday,” he says, wishing he could put more heart into it. A tiny frown furrows in your brow but you don’t question him. 

He steps back to let you walk in, trailing behind you as the rest of the guys wish you happy birthday. Mark catches up easily, clapping a hand on his shoulder, whispering, “Jeno sent me a picture.” 

Renjun hugs you, which Donghyuck belatedly realizes he never did. 

“I brought the food,” Chenle announces. “Don’t go thanking anyone else for my efforts.” 

“Our,” Jisung corrects. “You barely even carried anything.” 

“That’s because I had to drive,” Chenle says, waving his hand. “And don’t even get me started on the pizzeria, you better appreciate every molecule because—”

“Thank you, Chenle,” you say. 

“Thank me,” Donghyuck says. “It was my detailed instructions that perfected absolutely everything about today, which reminds me, did Mark behave?” 

You turn back to face him, linking your fingers with his. “Yes, babe, he followed your script. He almost cried because the barista messed up the order and he didn’t want to be annoying but he said you said ‘if anything goes wrong, I’ll kill you,’ and meant it.” 

“And I did,” Donghyuck says. He nods at his best friend for his service. 

“Now.” You squeeze his fingertips. “Where’s this cake you’ve been so excited about.” 

Donghyuck doesn’t try to hide his face. There’s no use delaying the inevitable. He lets go of your hands, leading you to the crime scene to lay the final verdict (the judicial system of his brain is in need of some reformation). 

You reach the counter and freeze. A list of concert dates greets Donghyuck, your back facing him while you study the cake. There’s no name for the opposite of a masterpiece, no artist that wants their worst creation recorded in history. 

He inches closer to you, peeking at your face. He recognizes the expression, the narrowing of your eyes, the way you flatten your lips. He’s been to enough art shows and spent enough time with you studying for art history to know what you analyze art. 

“It’s not Van Gogh or Monet,” he says, “it’s not even that asshole guy who made the Bean.” 

“Mm,” you hum, “no, you’re not any of them.” 

“It’s an ugly cake,” he says, “I know. I tried, I really did, but apparently you actually do need a decade or two of experience to make a decent cake, which is totally unfair, like, I spent more time on it than my research project, and this only looks marginally better than that.” 

“It’s amazing,” you say, “reminiscent of the expressionist era.” 

“Really?” 

“No,” you say, turning to grin at him. “But you made it, so none of that matters. Maybe it doesn’t look like what you thought, but seriously.”  You rest a hand on his arm. “It’s perfect.” 

He meets your eyes, sees sincerity and not an ounce of teasing. No, it wasn’t what he wanted for you, but that doesn’t really matter. Perfection is subjective and to you it’s perfect—why did he ever think it wouldn’t be? 

He grins. “Perfect?” 

You step closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him into a hug, ignoring the frosting that must be smearing across the band member’s faces. 

“Perfect.” 

a/n2: thank you for reading! as always, i appreciate any feedback :)

[creative-crybaby]

Vixen

PAIRING: timeskip!Hanamaki Takahiro x fem!reader

GENRE: smut (18+)

Minors DNI

TAGS + WARNINGS: oral (m receiving), cum eating

Let me know if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

SUMMARY: With your boyfriend's help, you put your new lip stain's transferability to the test. All characters are 18+

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

“In here!”

Having called your name from the kitchen, the former athlete follows your voice. Your tone indicated you were distracted, and with his current need for your attention, he knew he had to get to the bottom of this.

Hanamaki pokes his head into your shared bedroom at your response, quirking his brow. There, he finds your back to him, seemingly focused on your reflection in the full-length mirror. Careful not to startle you, he quietly approaches your figure, soon hearing a light click.

“Whatcha’ doin’?” Hanamaki hums, peering over your shoulder. You blink in surprise, then compose yourself quickly before facing him.

“Just getting ready,” you respond. In your hold is a tube of lipstick, and you return your attention to the mirror to fix potential makeup errors. “Some girl friends and I are having lunch and going shopping today.”

“Was that today?” Your boyfriend purses his lips. Your brows crease as you eye his reflection. He chuckles, a twinge of nervousness still somewhat noticeable in his voice. “Kidding, kidding.”

You don’t bother answering, instead opting to fan your lips, which sport a mid-tone rose hue. You then face your partner again. 

“What do you think?” You step back to give him a once-over, tilting your head at different angles to show off your makeup. 

Hanamaki whistles lowly, his eyes scanning every inch of you before he takes your hand, pulling you into him. “I’m a real lucky guy.”

“Obviously.” You laugh airily, tightening the embrace before pulling away several seconds later. His eyes soften; no matter how often you two tease and poke fun at each other, he meant what he said. Judging by your equally-smitten expression, you’re aware of this fact. 

Hanamaki’s eyes trail to your lips, his lids drooping slightly. “New lipstick?”

You hum in confirmation, the corners of your lips twisting upwards. “Lip stain.”

“Lip stain?” 

“A lipstick that basically won’t come off.” You plant a kiss on his cheek, staying there for a few seconds before pulling back and making your boyfriend face the mirror. No evidence of your affection is to be found on his face, and his brows raise in slight fascination. “Totally kiss-proof.”

Hanamaki perks up at your last comment. “Bet.”

Not a second later, you smash your lips against his, making him produce a strange noise in surprise before following your lead. Unfortunately for him, you pull back before things can escalate, and he pouts. You quickly kiss his pursed lips as an apology, then gently turn his head to look at his reflection once more. Not a stain in sight. 

“Oh, wow,” Hanamaki mumbles, squinting his eyes ever so slightly at the mirror. You giggle silently before leaving a trail of soft kisses from his jaw down his neck. Your boyfriend subconsciously tilts his head, giving you more access as he sighs from your touch. “Oh, wow.”

You giggle again, tickling his skin as one of your hands slides down his body and playfully tugs at his sweatpants’ waistband. Hanamaki’s head snaps towards you, meeting your narrowed gaze. A familiar smile grows on your painted lips, and he gulps. 

“There’s one more thing I wanna try to test this product,” you whisper like you two aren’t the only ones in your shared apartment, like you’re palming his bulge in a crowd, in front of an audience. His face explodes with heat like he’s being watched. “Mind if I give it a go? Just to be sure, of course.”

Your boyfriend’s mind draws a blank. It’s not uncommon for either of you to initiate sexual acts, though it doesn’t stop him from getting flustered whenever you make the first move. As much as he loves taking care of you, having you take control gets him feeling like a high schooler again—antsy, surely sweating as heat radiates off his body, and his thoughts reel past him as he stays stuck in his brain. The same person who put him in that spiral is the only one who can pull him out of it.

Your hand slowly glides back up his body and away from his crotch, and Hanamaki snaps out of his state. He grabs your wrist, halting your retreat, and your eyes widen at the sudden action. You’re quick to regain composure, however, and a smirk grows on your face. With your lips back on his, you lead him to your shared bed, the back of his knees hitting the side and forcing him to sit on the mattress. Neither of you pulls away from the kiss, even as you assist him in removing his sweats and boxers down to his ankles and freeing his cock. 

Much to Hanamaki’s displeasure, you break the little makeout session, dropping to your knees and settling between his thighs. You give him another look–peering up at him through your lashes with that same smirk–though you wait like he might back down. Your lover only further spreads his legs, leaning back on the bed with his hands and giving you a reassuring smile, doing his best to ignore the acrobatics in his belly. 

Knowing you, your boyfriend braced himself for your upcoming teasing, only to hiss when you took about half of his cock in your mouth. A shiver crawls up his spine, and he lets out a gurgled whine. 

You’re not wasting any time, your mouth warm and wet as you coat his shaft with your saliva. Hanamaki has to refrain from snapping his legs closed with you in between them, flexing his thighs to keep him grounded as his breathing grows shallow. The view below doesn’t help; pretty painted lips wrapped around his cock, a light sheen of drool glossing them the more of his dick they take. He’s almost embarrassed at how fast his vision grows hazy. 

The sounds are just the icing on the cake, ringing in his ears and sure to bounce around in his skull for the rest of the day. The loud slurping and gulping have him gripping the sheets, trying his best not to grab your head and force the rest of him down your throat. Not that it was necessary, what with you reaching his base in no time, the air from your nostrils fanning his trimmed pubes. Every time you pull back, a clear ring of your spit and his precum stays behind, some of it even oozing down to his balls. 

“Shit, baby,” Hanamaki drawls, throwing his head back as you bob yours faster. You moan–on purpose, no doubt–and the vibrations make his toes curl. It isn’t until he hears you gag does he realize he’s been lazily rutting into your mouth. Your nails dig into his thighs as you match his rhythm, encouraging his desperate movements. “O-Oh~”

His release is approaching a little too quickly for his liking. It’s nothing either of you isn’t used to, but it doesn’t embarrass him any less. He can only hope you’ll spare him any teasing this time, especially considering no coherent words can leave his parted lips. Just louder whimpers, a desperate gaze falling on you, and hope that you’ll get the message.

And you do, it seems. The coil in your lover’s belly snaps, his core muscles tightening as he shoots rope after rope of cum into your warm and awaiting mouth. The contractions of your throat as you swallow every drop make him quiver, and soon your touch becomes too much for him to handle. Something else you seem to be aware of, as you take your time sliding the rest of his cock out of your mouth, teasingly pulling back from his tip with a loud and wet pop.

Hanamaki has to blink a few times to steady his vision, his chest rising and falling with every heavy breath. You, on the other hand, rise from your spot as if the past couple (yes, couple) of minutes didn’t happen, making your way to the nightstand to check your phone. 

“Gotta get going,” you say, your voice somewhat hoarse. Your boyfriend doesn’t miss how you lick your lips clean before glancing at the mirror. “These stains are something else.” You face him again, offering a smile while smoothing out your dress. He couldn’t respond even if he wanted to, your nonchalance entrancing him and sending blood rushing downwards once more. After several seconds of silence, you pick up your purse by the vanity, plopping your phone inside as you exit the bedroom. “Might have to get more shades later today.”

Your tone was so casual that Hanamaki hadn’t realized what you said until he heard the entrance door shut. His gaze immediately falls to his cock, with the only evidence of your activities being the subtle shine from your spit blanketing his shaft. No colour in sight, aside from the vermillion hue of his tip, it’s like you weren’t wearing any makeup when you were sucking the life out of him.  

With his eyes rolling to the back of his head, he drops onto the mattress, his pants still bunched at his ankles and his bangs stuck to his forehead with sweat.

Oh, wow.

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify