#maybe i just like how he looks in leather

[snoopychris]

chatterbox

in which... nerd!matt gets drunk for the first time.

you so desperately wished you could have a drink right now. even just a single white claw. oh the downside of being the designated driver. the music around you is blasting louder than you anticipated, people keep bumping into you like you’re invisible, and you feel like your friends are all having more fun than you.  all negatives of being sober. oh well. at least you still had matt… well he was somewhere around here.

you’re mid conversation with somebody when nate grabs onto your shoulder, pulling you from every other thought. his eyes are full of fear and he’s shaking as if he’s scared of you. you swallow in fear, worried about his next words. “nathan…” you whisper, only being met with mumbles. you finally get him to speak up, groaning when he reveals his big secret. 

“i only did two shots with him i didn’t know he’d get like this! how was i supposed to know?” he questions, leading you towards matt in the kitchen. luckily, he’s not alone. chris is gripping onto his wrists making sure he’s able to stay upright. you giggle slightly at the sight, making your way over to your intoxicated boyfriend. his glasses are sitting in his pocket, a sight that’s rare to see. his eyes are wide and his face is red. he is completely out of it. 

“oh my god, sweetie hi.” he mumbles, gripping onto your hand and tugging you close. his breath doesn’t smell too much like alcohol, but you know the two shots he had must be more than he’s used to. you grab onto his shoulders in place of chris, groaning when he and nate sneak away back to the party. your boyfriend, your responsibility.

“hey nerd. y’feeling okay? what’d you have?” you whisper, helping him keep his standing position. matt shrugs as he looks around the counter, picking up a bottle of everclear and handing it to you. your face churns in disgust. there’s no way he willingly drank this stuff. you chuckle as you drag him away from the kitchen, making your way to your car. one of the only perks is that you can make an irish goodbye whenever. the parties at nate’s house anyway. chris can spend the night if he needs to. 

matt stumbles his way out with you, taking a seat in the passengers side. he lays his head backwards on the headrest, squeezing his eyes shut. he pouts his lip like a toddler being pulled out of a toy store. “where are we goin” he pouts, his lip still out. you shrug as you begin driving, making sure to roll the window down to help him sober up. 

“i dunno… can’t believe you’re drunk off two shots of everclear… well like i can but. jesus.” you smile, gripping onto his hand. he squeezes back gently, but he thinks he’s being really aggressive. he mumbles out an apology, earning a head shake from you. the only place you can manage to drive is the beach. his beach. the same beach he would always go when he felt alone. the same beach you went to before you were dating. his face brightens at the sight and he manages to make his way out of the car. 

it’s snowing out- just barely though. just enough for the snow to be visible to the naked eye but not enough to stick to the floor. you follow close after him, wrapping your leather jacket around your torso. he runs towards the sand, sitting down on a random spot. he winces when it’s colder than he expects, the temperature only enhanced by his drunken state. you stand in front of him, dropping to your knees. he almost gets excited but he knows you wouldn’t. instead, he just cups your face with one of his palms. 

“you’re so beautiful… hey do you ever think about how maybe my favorite pokémon is somebody’s least favorite? or how some pokémon don’t have like annnyyyy merchandise made for them because they’re just not profitable. it makes me so sad for those guys. like not everybody can be pikachu you know? and sweetie oh my god don’t even get me started on the merch that nintendo makes because… it’s crazy!” he begins to mumble on when it all sort of clicks for you. matthew sturniolo is a talkative drunk. not a quiet one like chris. not an impulsive one like nick. not a cuddly one like you. talkative. you nod at his words, almost as if you’re asking for more. against all odds, matt looks straight into your eyes and smiles. 

“well cause like… they market off everything cute right? they’re targeting cutie patooties like you with all the animal crossing stuff.” he states, touching your nose with his fingertip when he speaks. you scrunch your face at the feeling, snowflakes gathering on the top of your head. “you are so cute. like i can’t wait for you to move out to california with me.” he mumbles. your face drops slightly at his words but you shrug it off. it’s the alcohol talking. you purse your lips, waiting for more drunk babbles from your boyfriend. “oh my god right so the nintendo marketing scheme-”

a/n: welcome back, nerd!matt. im so scared of myself with this au sometimes chat. like i get to my computer and im like oooo todays the day and then i cant bring myself to do it.

tags: @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbrat @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @yuppocarzy @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @ayesha-eroticaa @bluessturniolo @courta13 @sturns-mermaid @ivysturnss @slutformatt17 @emely9274 @princessesgarden @marrykisskilled @cykss @oopsiedaisydeer @13hoax @jetaimevous @allylovescody @urfavvt4ylor

[itsnesss]

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 | minho (xo,kitty) × fem!reader

summary | during a nighttime walk, playful banter with minho turns into heartfelt confessions and a romantic kiss under the stars

warnings | fluff, romance, kissing

word count | 2.0 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The KISS campus is quiet tonight. The lights of the main building flicker softly, and a cool breeze rustles through the trees. After weeks of studying and school activities, Min-ho—the most arrogant yet intriguing guy on campus—had suggested taking a nighttime walk. You’re still not sure if it was because of your blatant insistence that he wasn’t as perfect as he thought he was or if he just wanted to prove you wrong.

"So, what makes you think I’m not perfect?" he asks, a mischievous grin on his face.

Min-ho walks beside you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his black leather jacket. He’s so comfortable in his own skin it’s almost intimidating. You can’t help but notice how the streetlights accentuate the perfection of his features, but you’re not about to tell him that. That would only inflate his ego even more.

"For starters, your ego already takes up all the space on this sidewalk," you reply, turning to look at him with a defiant smile.

"Oh, come on. Is that the best you’ve got?" he teases, pretending to be offended as he stops in front of you. His gaze is intense, but the playful glint in his eyes softens the moment.

You cross your arms, feigning disinterest.

"Besides, you always act like the world revolves around you."

"Doesn’t it?" he quips quickly, raising an eyebrow.

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling. Min-ho has this infuriating ability to annoy you and make you laugh at the same time. It’s frustrating yet addictive.

As you continue walking, he shifts the conversation. He starts talking about his family, about how he misses certain things from home despite his seemingly perfect life in Seoul. It’s a side of him you rarely see, and you’re surprised at how honest he’s being.

"I didn’t know you had a vulnerable side," you say softly, more to yourself than to him.

"I don’t show it to just anyone," he admits, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

Your heart skips a small beat. You know that behind all that popular-guy bravado, there’s so much more to him than he lets on.

"Why me?" you ask without thinking, stopping under a tree where the lights barely reach.

Min-ho also stops, turning to face you. His expression shifts, becoming more serious.

"I don’t know. Maybe because you don’t try to impress me. You’re just yourself, and that’s… refreshing."

For a moment, you’re speechless. You feel warmth rising to your cheeks but manage to keep your composure.

"That sounds pretty cliché, don’t you think?" you tease, trying to lighten the mood.

"Maybe, but it’s true," he says with a soft smile.

The silence that follows isn’t awkward. It’s as if both of you are processing what just happened, though neither of you says it out loud.

"Do you want to go to the lookout point?" Min-ho suggests suddenly, nodding toward a path that disappears into the trees.

You nod, following him without a second thought.

The lookout point is empty when you arrive. From there, you can see the lights of Seoul sparkling in the distance. It’s a peaceful place, perfect for thinking and talking without interruptions.

"It’s beautiful," you murmur, leaning on the railing as you take in the view.

"It is," Min-ho replies, but when you turn your head, you realize he’s not looking at the lights; he’s looking at you.

Your heart races, but you don’t look away.

"You should stop doing that," you say, trying to sound confident.

"Doing what?" he asks, leaning in slightly closer.

"Looking at me like…" you trail off, unable to find the right words.

"Like what?" he presses, his voice lower, softer.

You feel the distance between you shrinking. It’s as if the world around you has paused.

"Like you want to kiss me," you confess in a whisper.

Min-ho smiles—that smile that always annoyed you but now feels different, more genuine.

"And what if I do?" he asks, his face only inches from yours.

Your breath catches for a moment. You know you could step back, break the moment, but you don’t.

"Then stop talking and do it," you reply before you can stop yourself.

Min-ho doesn’t need to be told twice. He closes the space between you, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that’s soft at first, almost as if he’s testing the waters. But when he realizes you’re not pulling away, that you’re kissing him back, the kiss deepens, filled with emotion.

It’s as if all the walls that had existed between you disappear in that instant. The arrogant guy and the girl who always challenged him finally find themselves on the same page.

When you pull apart, both of you are breathless. Min-ho looks at you, his smile wider than ever.

"Does that answer your question?" he asks, clearly enjoying the moment.

"Maybe," you say, trying to sound nonchalant, though the blush on your cheeks gives you away.

"You’re impossible," he says, laughing as he leans in to kiss you again.

And for the first time in a long time, everything feels exactly as it should.

[damnfeelings09]

Bad Romance - Shadow's version

A.N: This one for you! @bookdragon247 I hope it does live up to what you expected! Had a lot of fun *and blush* writting this one.

After such a hard day's work, you deserved a night of partying, and what better way than to go to the local bar for karaoke night. You found yourself with your friends Amy, Rouge, Sonic, Knuckles, and... Shadow?! It wasn’t that it bothered you to see him. Shadow was serious, quiet, sarcastic, and mostly disinterested in meeting new people, which is why it surprised you that he was there. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited to see him tho, because, maybe, just maybe, it could be that you had a tiny little crush on the hedgehog. Okay, in reality, you were completely in love with him. However, Shadow had always kept his relationship with you (if it could even be called like that) professional. You were both GUN agents, and on several occasions, you’d shared missions with the hedgehog. Every now and then, you’d greet each other in the hallways, share a small chat while waiting for your coffee, or discuss some important details about mission findings. Shadow had always been very kind, even when he was angry; he had never raised his voice at you, which your friends found strange, but for you it never seemed so important.

Shadow was wearing a leather jacket, and his signature white gloves had been replaced with mittens, like the ones bikers wear. You had never seen his hands before. His fingers were long and thin, his nails long and sharp enough to cause harm if he wanted, shining like onyx. In the middle of his hand, right between his middle and ring fingers, his fur changed from night-black to red, just like his quills. “How would it feel to be touched by those hands?” You wondered, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Ahem…” – Amy cleared her throat, catching your attention. You were thankful it was her who noticed you were lost in your thoughts and not Rouge, or she wouldn’t let you off the hook for the rest of the night.

“Well, well, look who decided to leave their cave,” Rouge said. “He probably lost another bet,” she laughed, remembering the last time Shadow had bet that Sonic couldn’t go more than 10 minutes without talking, and when he lost, he had to join them for Sonic’s birthday party.

The six of you headed to the Sing On! bar. Inside, the lights were dancing across the room, and the music filled every corner of the venue. You could still walk through the tables without any trouble, and the crowd applauded to the lemur as he sang “Too Good at Goodbyes.” Amy grabbed Sonic by the arm and pushed him toward the DJ booth, eager to sing a duet, while the four of you looked for a table. Rouge convinced Knuckles to head to the dance floor, leaving you alone. You loved your friends, but this definitely wasn’t the way to get closer to Shadow.

“Hey, Shadow. I had no idea you liked karaoke,” you said, trying to strike up a conversation. Shadow turned his face toward you, slightly tilting his head to the left in confusion.

“Not my cup of coffee. Sonic promised to leave me alone for a week, so I let him drag me here.”

“Ah… I should’ve known, Sonic can be a little intense with these things. Still, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Oh, yeah? ” he said, raising an eyebrow. "Why would you be?" His deep voice sent shivers down your spine, making you flush instantly. In the background, you could hear Amy and Sonic butchering “Don’t Stop Believin’.”

“Sure… we’re f-friends. I love spending time with you… Just like with Sonic, Amy, and Tails…” You scratched the back of your neck awkwardly, hoping someone would come and save you from the humiliation you’d just caused. “Ah… I’m going to get a drink.” You fled as fast as you could, locking yourself in the first bathroom you found. You lowered the toilet seat and sat on it. You were done for—now you’d have to change your name, dye your hair, and move to another city to avoid the humiliation you had just experienced.

You heard knocks on the door. “Honey? Is everything alright?” Rouge asked from the other side.

“I just blew my only chance in the most humiliating way. Friends? What was I thinking?” you complained, slapping your palm to your forehead.

"'kay, time to stop wallowing in your own misery?” Rouge pushed the door open, forcing you out. “Listen. You’re gorgeous, maybe as much as I am, you’re a good friend, fun, kind, and Shadow likes you. I’m sure of it, and if not, screw that jerk. Now give me back my confident friend.”

You sighed deeply and straightened your ears back into your fur. Rouge was right—you weren’t going to stay and cry, ruining everyone’s night. Amy found you in the bathroom and, when she saw your face, she quickly asked what was going on. Rouge filled her in.

“Well, Sonic told me that Shadow only agreed to come tonight because you’d be here. Plus, he kept looking around after you disappeared; I think he was looking for you.”

“No way” you raised your voice. “Sonic must be messing with you.”

“I don’t think so. Sonic likes to joke around with Shadow, not about him.”

“See? The only one who can’t see what’s going on is you. Go get your man.”

The three of you went back to the main room. This time, gathering your courage, you approached the DJ and requested a song. “Well, here goes nothing”, you thought as you took your position on the stage. Quickly, Amy and Rouge stood up from their seats, cheering you on. The audience was paying attention, and a pair of crimson eyes were watching you curiously.

“Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Caught in a bad romance Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Caught in a bad romance”

I want your ugly, I want your disease I want your everything as long as it's free I want your love Love, love, love, I want your love (hey)

As you sang, you pointed in Shadow's direction. Rouge, who was standing next to him, playfully nudging his shoulder.

“I want your drama, the touch of your hand (hey) I want your leather-studded kiss in the sand”

You sang, tracing your lower lip with your thumb, keeping your gaze fixed on Shadow. You had no idea what had gotten into you, you just knew there was no turning back. Would you regret it when the song ended? Probably, so you had to make it worth it. “To hell with this,” you thought, as you got off the stage, swaying your hips until you reached Shadow. Once you were in front of him, you grabbed his chest fur, pulling him closer to your body.

“I want your horror, I want your design 'Cause you're a criminal as long as you're mine I want your love Love, love, love, I want your love”

“I want your psycho, your vertigo shtick (hey) Want you in my rear window, baby, you're sick I want your love Love, love, love, I want your love (love, love, love) (I want your love)”

Shadow looked… nervous?. His usual carefree and cool aura had disappeared, replaced by a pink blush covering his muzzle. Never, in your wildest dreams, did you imagine that the Ultimate lifeform could blush because of you. It was new to him—just a few weeks ago, he had realized he felt… more when you were near. He could feel his heart rate change when you spoke, the slight reddish tint and the sparkle in your eyes when you shared a moment together. However, he always told himself it wasn’t true, that he was imagining things, that you were just naturally kind, because how could you fall for him, being so... well, him.

The boost of energy from having Shadow so close, and the fact that he hadn’t backed away, increased your confidence, so when you returned to the stage, you blew him a kiss. You had never seen Shadow's eyes so wide open as they were at that moment. He turned his face to the side, trying to hide, but it was then that his instincts betrayed him, and his tail began to wag happily. Shadow quickly grabbed it with his hands, trying to hide what was happening.

“No, I don't wanna be friends (oh-oh-oh, caught in a bad romance) I don't wanna be friends (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh) Want your bad romance (oh-oh-oh) Caught in a bad romance Want your bad romance”

The audience applauded, and Sonic and Knuckles cheered together, drawing attention. However, your gaze never left that figure trying to hide its emotions behind a mocking grin. Maybe it was time for Shadow to start to live and enjoy his life.

[thediaryofaghost]

; NOT MY MAN

© gif credits to @daniel-bruehl.

Simon Riley aka GHOST x READER | masterlist.

Summary. the team is back in town after a mission but seems like you would have preferred to stay there than having to face the kind of feelings you're discovering now.

word count: 1.2k.

warnings/tags: none. maybe a little bit of jealousy, but nothing serious.

author notes: my stories don't contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

pd: hi, y'all! first time writing for Ghost, no judging, please. i hope you like it.

The mission couldn’t have gone more successful, and the whole team was back in town before expected. That’s why Soap has had the great idea of throwing a small party for you all, more like a teammates’ barbecue. But now that you’re there, staring at the scene happening right in front of your eyes and holding a beer almost empty, you’re starting to figure out how to leave the place without looking like an asshole.

All your friends are having fun, while you’re about to break the glass container between your fingers just by the burning angriness emerging inside your guts. Why? Simple question, simple answer. Ghost is there, of course, keeping his face covered by the balaclava he never takes off, not even while sleeping; standing arms crossed next to the new acquisition for the team. Rhaia. A former soldier who is brand new to your world. Flirting with him. Or better said, trying to flirt with him. But even if Ghost isn’t moving an inch of his body, he’s letting her touch his bicep, play with the badges sewed in his jacket, and grab his dog tags to read the information written down in them.

Who does she think she is?

And who do you think you are?

Clicking your tongue, as you turn around, you give the beer one last sip before placing it on the table next to you. Silent and keeping your gesture deadpanned, your feet take you to the inside. You’ve had enough shit to deal with for today and you’re pretty tired to pretend you aren't… jealous? Ghost and you are nothing but teammates. On-duty. Off-duty is hard to explain. He’s your guardian during the nights in town like a protector, that’s how you like to see the situation. For a cop, he’s a stalker, and probably a psychopath too. But he has some power over you that you can’t even explain or run away from.

And now, everything you’ve thought you’ve had till this moment looks like it’s been reduced to ashes since Rhaia is part of the equation.

“ Party is downstairs. ”

A shiver runs down your spine. It doesn't matter the amount of time you two spend together, accompanied or alone, you never hear him coming. But you can't help but ignore his words, looking for the keys to your bike inside the pockets of your leather jacket, about to wear the piece of clothing and leave the house.

“ You going mute scares me more than death. ”

His voice is neutral. There’s no confusion, or angriness, or surprise in it. Those emotions fill you up at the exact moment you turn around, ready to go, by finding him closer than expected. 

“ Oh, for fuck sake! ”  You grumble, moving a palm onto your chest and closing your eyes for a second.

“ Where are ya’ heading at, hm? ”

“ You all are occupied with your own business and I’m tired, I just want to sleep, Ghost. ”

Raising his eyebrows as an incredulous gesture, the man tilts his head slightly, trying to figure out what’s going on inside that mind of yours. It’s not the explanation, but the fact that you have called him by his undercover name, and not just by his name like whenever the two of you are alone.

“ I'll take you home, little bird. C’mon. ”

“ You’re not coming. ” The sentence slips through your mouth before you can even think about it, watching him turn back to face you as he is ready to accompany you.

“ I am your man, of course I’m leaving with you. ” He’s now aware of what’s going on, and can’t help but drag every single word by his tongue. Demanding. With that possessive tone of voice that, in another kind of situation, would take you to your more desired fantasies later that night.

“ If my man can be touched by any woman, then… he’s not my man. ”

Oh, there it is; the attitude that rarely comes out from you, taking a step closer at the point you're breathing in the air he spells — besides the height difference. You’re challenging him with no fear, with no doubt. Looking straight into his eyes, contemplating how they darken themselves. That man is angry for real, making a huge effort to not lose his mind, the control over his body. Not with you. Maybe with a poor devil that crosses paths with him tonight. But you’re hurt. And so it’s your ego. Gho— Simon is yours. Nobody else can't touch him with that kind of intention but you, even when you don’t touch him like that; because the two of you have a non-verbal arrangement that he’s your guard dog and you don’t make any complaints.

Your heart races at the moment he takes a step back, away from you, not uttering a single word, making you feel frustrated for preventing you from seeing his face at this moment. How much would you love to burn down the balaclava he’s wearing (...).  But, at least, it seems like he has understood that you need some time alone to put down the feelings and emotions blurring your head like stormy clouds covering the sun from nowhere.

( A few hours later. )

“ What… What are you doing here? ”

Even if it was quite a surprise to find your lieutenant, fully equipped, sitting in front of your bed in the middle of the night, you didn't feel like he was a menace, nor like you were in danger. You didn't even care to ask how he had sneaked inside your house outwitting the alarm.

“ Go back to sleep, little bird. ” The murmur left his covered lips as he bent over just a little, enough to rest his arms onto his lap, getting a better view of you obeying without complaining and laying down between the sheets.

For a reason you can’t understand, you wake up with your heart racing and a thin layer of sweat covering your whole body. The survivor mode has been turned on. It wasn’t a nightmare, but a memory haunting you. The room is submerged in darkness, only illuminated by a lamppost outside, but what leaves you with no words is the empty chair in front of your eyes. Ghost is not there. And he should be.

Turning on the light, you look for your phone. No calls. No texts. Nothing. Cleaning the sweat from your forehead with a tissue, you toss away the wet sheets and walk barefoot outside of your room, touring the small flat.

“ Simon…? ”

Maybe he has gone for a glass of water or something, but you don’t receive a word back, nor a hint that he’s there. It’s only you and the silence of the night.

A sharp pinch stabs your heart. But what is that? Pain, sorrow, regret? Sadness? For a moment, you think that calling him is a good idea, disappearing as you remember what you told him earlier this evening. Has he taken that really seriously? No. That’s not typical of him. He would fight. And, for you, he would go to hell and be back before the blink of an eye, after turning off the flames that consume the place.

But then, why is the first night in almost two years he is not there, watching over you while you sleep?

Where are you, Ghost…?

feedback is appreciated and needed. please, if you have read this shot, leave a comment and / or reblog. don’t forget we do it for free to contribute to your entertainment and interactions are what make us keep writing every day.

[holyguardian]

Aerith nodded again, this time more deeply. On this she wouldn't hesitate. If there was anything, anything at all that she thought would help Roran, she would ask for it.

But then Somnus played along with her. She exhaled an amused breath, lining up her feet to solve the puzzle of how she would ruin his favourite footwear by stretching the leather around double the feet and double the legs. "Careful, I might test that." It was a non-threat. Was she curious? Of course, it was in her head. But she was also respectful too. She wouldn't break anything that belonged to someone else for her own amusement.

Her attention shifted curiously as he mentioned his surprise. For a moment she had to glance away, wearing something like a guilty smile. She really sucked at keeping her promise, huh? He thought he had seen it all, and she still kept some secrets.

Though her eyes quickly found his again. He was hesitant. Not upset whatsoever about being surprised yet again. Her head tilted a little in silent encouragement for him to go on. All she could do was blink when he asked her not to laugh at him — and she sat a little straighter, showing him that she was taking his words seriously.

Her reaction was probably a far cry from his expectations. "Oh!" she exclaimed, sounding joyful. "You answered my prayer." Her hands clapped and she smiled wide as if it were something she thanked him for. "See, I can't cast that one alone. It's... The Spell, you know?" No, no he did not know. "It's too much for one person to cast quickly, maybe if they prayed for days without rest, but..." Her hands laid out in the air, palms up, while her fingers flexed. She was grasping for how to explain. "Those voices were my ancestors. They were helping me. Lending me their strength. And... you, the way you explained your power as being a blessing, you're able to do the same thing as Cetra. Lend your strength towards a big spell. If you were gathered in a space with a group of people who all had blessed power — something that a god, or astral, or the Planet itself gave — all of you could combine strength into a... well, a very big spell. Just like Holy."

Aerith stood from her place on the window sill and breezed to her bedside. The object of her attention was nestled away and wrapped in her favourite ribbon. When she turned back around, she carried a white orb in both of her hands.

Coming to a stop in front of the Prince, she held the precious, glimmering sphere so close that he could touch it. In fact, that's what she expected him to do.

"The Cetra believe knowledge is meant to be passed down. Power too. When we pass away, it's not an end, it's a new beginning. We believe that we become one with the Lifestream, and that is how we hear the voices of those who came before us, how we ask for help to cast our big spells." Normally she wouldn't explain her belief system to someone from another kingdom, but Somnus had placed his trust in her, so she offered the same.

"I guess that means we're compatible." she suddenly mused, her gaze so much more intense up close like she was, as if she looked into the depths of his soul. "We could train together sometime. Spell-casting, specifically. Not your backflipping, leaping, run wild warrior course." It was a small tease peppered in with a genuine offer. "I can lend my power to one of your spells if you'd like."

The princess was in disarray – if one would judge her from the prim and proper protocols the courts usually followed. But so was he.

It seemed they both had not bothered with a lot of new pressing attire after the cleaning. His white toga as simple as her linen dress. Whit how she leaned by the window, having the wind softly tug at strands of her long curls, she had similarities to the drawings of beautiful goddesses and ancient myths that you could marvel at on the walls of temples.

Sitting down by the table, Somnus shook his head once to get rid of such foolish thoughts. Not the right place, not the right time. What was he even thinking at all?!

Smiling a little at how Aerith seemed to want to talk all about her littler bother, he watched her from his spot. She loved Roran, that much was clear. The little boy was lucky to have a sister like that.

“Please tell me if there is anything my family can do for your brother’s comfort.”

There was an offer on the top of his tongue. He knew magic that could… help Roran with sleep. Ironically his name was quite suiting in that case.

Her next comment made him smirk, stretching out his leg so his foot came to rest by hers, as Somnus tilted his head.

“Hm, I think not. You could fit both your feet in one of my sandals.”

She was smaller than him, thinner – not frail. But it was apparent that he was a trained warrior while she cast magic and had been relegated to an otherwise sheltered royal life.

And yet… what she had done in that cave…

“You surprised me again with your powers. What you did in those caves… I have never seen anything like it. It was like… pure light. But much more than that. And…”, for a moment he hesitated, though maybe she was the only one he could tell about this? Yes. Looking at her again with her endless green eyes, Somnus trusted her to not ridicule him for such thoughts. His hand coming up to rest against his chest, where a few hours ago he had witnessed his magic responding to her.

“I felt my own powers resonating with yours. Please don’t laugh… I saw it. It was like threads of light came from my body and sought you. For a moment I thought I heard the voices of a hundred people whispering.”

[dulcescorderitas]

hiiiii! i hope you’re doing great 🩷 i was wondering if u could write about dean and/or winchester (it could be romantic or platonically), and reader, despite being a highly skilled hunter as them, she/he/them have a extensive skincare routine 🧖🏿‍♀️ and tons of products and also has candles 🕯️ to aromatize whatever hotel room they’re staying in? maybe i’m a little biased bc it’s something i would def do lol 💅🏿 of course it’s up to u to write it or not xx

author's note: hope you like it!

the tiny hotel room buzzed with its usual chaos—sam hammering at his laptop, dean fiddling with the radio until static gave way to a gravelly classic rock station. you, meanwhile, had claimed the bed nearest the window, methodically unpacking your arsenal of serums, creams, and candles from a sleek black case. the clash of your indulgent habits with the winchesters’ bare-bones lifestyle was a contradiction you’d long since stopped noticing, but tonight, it seemed to hold their attention.

“are we setting up a séance, or did bath & body works have a blowout sale?” dean asked, smirking as he leaned in the doorway, arms crossed over his leather jacket.

sam glanced up from his laptop, raising an eyebrow but wisely staying silent.

“keep it up,” you deadpanned, lighting a lavender candle with a practiced flick of your lighter. “i can always start charging you both for the free aromatherapy.”

the soft glow spilled across the scratched furniture and faded wallpaper, the soothing scent instantly cutting through the motel musk. dean’s smirk lingered, though his nose wrinkled faintly when you spritzed rose water over your face.

“you’re telling me you haul this crap around on every hunt?” he asked, waving at the array of tiny jars and bottles now lined up on the nightstand.

“it’s called self-care, dean,” you replied without missing a beat. “you should try it sometime. your skin looks like it’s fighting for its life.”

“she’s not wrong,” sam chimed in, earning a glare from his brother. “and for the record, the room already smells better.”

“traitor,” dean muttered, but his eyes drifted back to the candle, then the jade roller you’d just pulled out. “what the hell is that thing?”

“a jade roller,” you said, voice deliberately sweet. “it helps with lymphatic drainage.”

“sounds fake,” he grumbled, though his gaze didn’t waver.

you took your time, smoothing a honey-oat cleansing balm over your skin with deliberate, indulgent motions. sam watched with barely-concealed interest, while dean lounged on the bed’s edge, boots off but still visibly torn between curiosity and skepticism.

“so what, all this actually works?” dean asked, the words reluctant but edged with intrigue.

“why? you want to try?” you baited, not looking up.

“hell no,” he said immediately, but his resolve was already cracking. sam, ever the voice of reason, set his laptop aside.

“i mean, it wouldn’t hurt, right? maybe we wouldn’t look like we’ve been living out of a car for a decade.”

dean groaned, but he didn’t argue when you tossed a washcloth at him. “fine,” you said, grinning as sam caught the second one. “sit your asses down, and let me show you how it’s done.”

sam caved first, obediently following your instructions as you handed him a bottle of cleanser. dean stayed where he was, arms crossed, until you pointedly ignored him in favor of complimenting sam’s technique.

“all right, fine,” he huffed, shuffling over. “hit me with your witch potions or whatever. but if i break out, you’re paying for it.”

“deal,” you said, fighting back a laugh as you handed him the balm. “start with this. rub it in—don’t forget your neck.”

watching dean winchester awkwardly smear product across his face was a moment you’d treasure forever. sam, already mid-toner, stifled a laugh. “you’re doing great, dean.”

“shut up,” dean muttered, his tone lacking any real heat. the faint twitch of a smile betrayed him.

by the time you broke out the sheet masks, all three of you were seated on the beds, faces glistening under the candlelight. the room smelled like lavender and chamomile, its usual harshness replaced with warmth and calm. dean grumbled about how “fucking weird” the mask felt, but he didn’t take it off. sam, predictably, leaned into the experience, asking questions about ingredients until dean threw a pillow at him.

“admit it,” you teased, leaning back with a smug grin. “you feel better.”

neither of them answered, but the way dean’s shoulders relaxed and sam’s lips curved into a rare, soft smile told you everything you needed to know.

taglist: @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis

[gumii-bearr]

can’t stop thinking about sub!alt!megumi who is all big and scary outside but the second his girlfriend gets him into their bed, hes a whimpering, pouty mess who’s just desperate to come :( poor little baby doesn’t know he’s gotta behave if he wants to come!

he’d love being tied up or maybe wearing a collar and a leash >.< so cute and whiny!

YEEEAASSHDDHHDHDHD AAAHHH MEEEEEOOOWWWW—

PLEASSSSEEEE

he’s your big scary dog privilege boyfriend in boyfriend, all covered in tattoos and piercings and he’s got gauges and he’s so intimidating to everyone except for you.

cus you know what a whimpering mess he is when he’s underneath you.

you like how pretty his arm muscles and his abs look when you’ve got his hands tied behind his back and you’re straddling his lap with those pretty pink panties with the little bows and a matching bra that presses your pretty tits together.

and he’s just a whimpering mess cus you’re edging the fuck out of him.

your little hand wrapped around his big and hard cock and it looks so red and so painful.

“mm, please— please, baby”

“you’ve been such a good boy, gumi”

and he’s got a little leather collar on (HELLOOO????) and his face is flushed so pretty and pink and he’s covered in a thin layer of sweat.

and you jerk him off a little faster, loving the way his abs tense and his arms squirm and his legs shake and then—

you pull your hand away, watching his cock jump and slap against his abdomen and there’s nothing he can do but throw his head back and pant his cute cock leaking and so so red.

then you get on top, pressing his tip to your soaked little hole cus he’s a good boy and he deserves a reward.

“m’gonna cum on your cock, okay, gumi?”

“mhm, mhm— please”

you pause, holding his chin and forcing him to look at you, revelling in the look of his messy hair and his fucked out eyes despite the fact that he hasn’t cum once.

“don’t cum unless i say, can you do that for me, baby?”

“uh-huh, yes, yes, i c-can”

“good boy”

[letmelickyoureyeballs]

Yummy Yummy Eye

Finally indulged in my fantasy of licking Silco's mutated eye and decided to write a reader insert fic of it.

Not beta read, and can also be found on AO3 here.

Word Count: 2.6k

Relationships: Silco x You, Silco x GN!Reader

Tags: Eye Sex, Eye Licking, No Smut/Sex, But heavily suggestive, Some Fluff, Shimmer, Inappropriate Use of Shimmer, I guess?, Trust, Biting kink, Only mentioned though, Established Relationship, Teasing, Suggestive Themes

Summary: You’ve been dying to lick Silco’s mutated eye since the first time you both met.

A couple of months later and after some slight conversation with him, it looks like you’ll finally get your wish, and it'll help ease that itch inside you that desires the unknown.

You couldn’t stop staring at his eye. The brilliant orange and black that it was. You just needed to do this. To curb the itch that just wouldn’t go away.

Just one little lick. One little taste and it’ll all be good.

Gods you were salivating at the thought. This desire had been hounding you since the moment you had met Silco in all his intimidating glory.

A chance encounter when you decided to drink at The Last Drop and found yourself entranced by the striking man smoking a cigar in the far dark corner of the bar. What hooked you first though was his glowing orange and black eye that seemed to be staring through you. You weren’t one to waste an opportunity and had decided to join him at his table.

With a little talking and some exchange of ideals, you both hit it off fairly well. 

Now months later found you both in an intense relationship of power and trust, with you currently sitting on his office’s couch, watching him read over reports at his desk. His damaged eye occasionally flickered a brighter shade of orange when something piqued his interest.

The Shimmer has to add some flavor. Hmm, fruity perhaps? No, no maybe salty with some spice? Would he even let me try?

A deep sigh brought you out of your musings, and you glanced up to see Silco staring at you with a hint of amusement and annoyed curiosity.

“As much as I generally love your undivided attention, I am trying to work at the moment. I can see that you’re thinking about something, so please, spit it out already.”

While the words were a bit sharp, you knew intrigue was overtaking the displeasure of being interrupted while working.

You glanced down at your hands, fiddling with a book you had given up reading a while ago, as you tried to stay nonchalant. Silco would instantly know if you tried to lie or avoid the question, so there was no use in bothering to bypass it. Besides this relationship was deeply built on trust and loyalty, and you weren’t about to forsake that. With a small hum and shrug of your shoulders, you replied almost boredly, “Just curious about your eye.”

Silco put down his pen and leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking softly in the otherwise quiet room. Whatever annoyance he had before melted away as deep curiosity took place with a slight gleam and flash of orange in his eye.

“You already know how it came to look this way, and the burdens that came along with it.” A slight tilt of his head as he stared at you questioningly. “What more can be ascertained from it?”

Usually, you had no qualms about what you asked about. Both of you had been open books with each other once the relationship was officially founded. It wouldn’t even be that outrageous of an inquiry compared to past conversations.

But this…felt different. Felt personal in the way that it could be too weird. That Silco may finally deny a request from you. Granted he had also encouraged any weird fantasies either of you had. Zaun knows you were both a little fucked up in the head, especially being from the Undercity. Vanilla was a foreign concept to either of you.

Yet licking the reminder of why he had become a Chem-Baron? The reminder of the life he had lost? The one noticeable physical weakness that he had? That felt too close to prying open an old wound.

But you knew this conversation would come up sooner or later. You weren’t exactly subtle when it came to your fascination with his eye. He knew how much it riled you up. How much you loved it when it glowed that deep possessive orange that occasionally flickered red. How you stroked the skin around it with an almost worshipping fervor.

Yeah, you’re honestly surprised he never questioned you about it sooner. But it seems now it’s time to own up to the fantasy that’s been looping through your mind.

Putting the now-shut book you were holding on the table next to you, you looked up, focusing on the eye that haunted and possessed you with such desires. With as much honesty and longing as you could muster you finally let it spill out.

“I just really want to taste it. You have no idea how much I’ve been dying to lick your eye, Silco. It’s like an itch that’s festering into an open wound the longer I think about it.”

With that, you waited with bated breath to see what the most powerful Chem-Baron in the Undercity would think about someone licking his fucking eye.

For a few agonizing seconds, Silco made no comment, as if he hadn’t heard your question at all, but if the increasing glow of his eye was any indication, he definitely found your question very affecting.

You still held your breath in anticipation, trying to convey that you meant the question truthfully and weren’t messing with him. The more his eye glowed the hungrier you became, and the stronger that inner itch gnawed at you. 

You would describe the itch as a yearning for the unknown. When you saw a carrot you knew the experience you would have eating it. You knew the feeling of it crunching between your teeth. The natural sweetness that enveloped your taste buds (or bitterness depending on if it was grown down here) but you knew what it would feel and taste like before you even put it into your mouth.

Silco’s eye (and many other past tastings) were unknown. You had no idea what the taste or texture would be like, and it ate you up inside wanting to try it. Sure you could theorize it to past things you’ve had the fortune of trying, but that still didn’t appease the innate itch to try the unknown. Yes, you knew that tears were salty, but tasting tears didn’t equate to licking an entire eye in your mind. And with the Shimmer that Silco injected into his eye, you knew it had to add some flavor.

I wonder if it tastes different depending on when it’s glowing or not?

You could feel yourself becoming frenzied at the idea. Nails bit into your pant legs where you were gripping your thighs, muscles tensed, but to lunge forward and forcibly try a taste or to run away you didn’t know.

Finally, Silco reacted, with a hum and a slight uptilt of his lips, eye still flaring brightly, he walked over and joined you on the couch. Sitting down with the gracefulness of a predator he turned towards you and patted his lap encouragingly. 

You didn’t hesitate to slide onto it, facing him as he rested his hands on your thighs. You weren’t one to waste an opportunity after all, and it seemed like Silco was more than attentive to your desire.

You placed your hands on his shoulder, one of them scratching through the hairs at the back of his neck. Focusing on his face you saw him deeply looking at you, no, looking through you.

He chuckled softly in the dimly lit room, “I knew you were only interested in me for my eye. So all that desire I saw was just so you could lick it? My my I knew you were fascinated, but this wasn’t something I predicted. And an itch that feels like an open wound you say? We don’t want that now, do we?” Throughout this he had started rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs, causing you to relax into him more and release some of the tension you had still been holding.

You knew he wasn’t poking fun at you, and after he finished speaking you saw that besides the inherent interest still present in his expression, he now seemed to have a spark of his own desires showing as well. His eyes raked hungrily over your face, stopping occasionally at your mouth.

Composing your thoughts, you looked into his good eye and felt yourself curl in pleasure at the acceptance he was giving you. With some confidence from seeing your desire reflected back, you smiled softly and murmured, “You know I love you for all of you.” You paused and smirked, “But your eye is definitely a captivating sight, and the thing that garnered my initial interest in you when we first met.”

Silco feigned a wounded look, “And here I thought it was my rogue charm and wit that had captivated you.”

You snorted a laugh, “Those too, but there’s just something so delicious about your eye.” You gazed longingly at it, licking over your lips and teeth. 

He watched amused. “I thought you said you wanted to lick it, not eat it.”

You rolled your eyes in mock offense. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t go that far. As much as I enjoy feeling you on my teeth, I don’t desire to bite your eye.”

He looked fondly at you. “How reassuring. But you still haven’t said why the urge to lick my eye feels like an open wound.”

You shrugged, “It’s like I’ve mentioned to you before when I’ve eaten something I shouldn’t have. I can’t control it. I see something that may taste interesting and I get an intense desire to follow through on it. The longer I try to avoid it, the more it eats away at my thoughts until I can only think about trying it.” You had explained this before a few times when Silco had caught you eating stuff you really shouldn’t have, so even though it still scared him at times, he knew you were being truthful, and nodded to show he understood.

Tilting his head in thought he replied carefully, “So I’m to assume you’ve been wanting to lick my eye since the first time we met? That’s an awfully long time then. In fact, the longest I’ve ever seen you try to avoid trying something was a few days, and that was with Sevika forcibly holding you back. How have you managed this long with my eye?”

Again you shrugged like it was the most obvious answer, “For the exact reason that it’s your eye. It’s not some random thing I found lying around, and I didn’t want to possibly make you uncomfortable. We both have our boundaries and I associated your eye as part of one.”

Silco appeared to accept that answer, again giving a slight nod, but it still seemed he couldn’t help but prod a little. “I’ve let you touch it before.”

Now you were the one looking at him amused, and with a sarcastic tone responded, “Touching is quite different from straight up licking it, Silco.”

He smiled all sharp teeth. “Perhaps, but it’s just a different kind of touch, is it not?” His smile grew wider, going a little feral as his eye pulsed eagerly, “And one that I’m not opposed to either. You know me. There’s very little that I would say no to you too.” His grip on your thighs tightened before loosening slightly, showing his interest but allowing you an out if needed.

You were not about to back out now. Months of craving even the smallest touch of your tongue to his eye built up in a tidal wave inside you. Tightening your hold on the back of his neck and shoulder you leaned forward, further encouraged by Silco who had moved one of his hands behind your head, guiding you closer.

You tensed back up in anticipation, tunnel-visioned on his eye. Nothing would be able to stop this moment now, you were in too deep and had to soothe that pulsing itch inside you that threatened to claw its way out.

With no other encouragement needed, you leaned the rest of the way in, but stopped mere millimeters away, breath ghosting over your long-coveted prize. Silco’s eye was flaring so bright it was almost blinding. Instead of diving in as you assumed Silco thought you would, you lightly kissed his eye, softly uttering a thank you, before slowly dragging the entire length of your tongue along it, savoring the moment and its smooth texture.

Silco’s hands tightened painfully when you sighed in pleasure, shivering in his embrace as you experienced what it must feel like to taste ambrosia from the gods.

As you had expected, Silco’s eye tasted divine.

Unsurprisingly it was salty but not overwhelmingly so, but quite unexpected was just how mouth-watering the Shimmer had enhanced it. A slight metal tang was quickly overpowered by a natural sweetness far exceeding anything you’ve ever tried. The closest thing you could think of in that moment was the one time you had licked off the pollen from a dandelion you’d found, but this was more intense than that. More potent due to the nature of Shimmer.

With one lick you felt like you were floating on ecstasy. This had far exceeded anything you could have theorized and the itch inside you quieted to a content purr. It didn't die away fully, and while that should have been a concern as it generally left after finally trying something, you knew that the desire to taste Silco’s eye would never truly go away now that you’d indulged in it. 

Pulling back slightly and glancing down at Silco with half-lidded eyes, you noticed him breathing heavily, a flush covering his face as he looked at you with more love and desire than you knew what to do with.

With a rasp, he snarled at you. “Did I say you could stop?”

With a huff and a slight shudder you finally dove in like you knew you both wanted. Lapping at his eye with no amount of finesse you moaned greedily. Each stroke of your tongue brought in that sweet sinful flavor, causing you to float higher and higher in euphoria.

By the time you had had your fill, you were both panting and shivering in satisfaction. It looked as if Silco had enjoyed that experience as much as you had.

With a content sigh and a lick of your lips you leaned back, feeling drugged. “That was so fucking good, Silco. Thank you, though I feel that this may not be a one-time thing.”

Silco leaned back resting his head on the couch, his eye fading to a low glow. His grip on you had loosed a bit and he pulled you down to lie on his chest, words still a little breathless, “I was thinking the same.” He chuckled warmly and caressed your neck and back. “It seems we both enjoyed that more than we thought we would, and from the looks of it, I’m guessing you’re feeling the effects of Shimmer, hmm?”

You grunted softly as his warmth enveloped you. It did seem that you had enacted a bit of Shimmer just from licking his eye, and as the floaty feeling fully consumed you, a wave of tiredness also fell over you. But he wanted a verbal answer, so with a slight mumble you agreed before pressing yourself closer to him and relaxing your whole body.

He took the hint. Both of you felt the drained after-effects of the moment. The lead-up plus the final climax in events left you both feeling sated and content to just rest there.

Grabbing a blanket from nearby, Silco maneuvered you both to lie along the couch with you still resting over him. He draped the blanket over you both before pressing a lingering kiss to your head.

Before you fully drifted off into a nice post-eye-licking nap, you heard Silco whisper a quiet ‘I love you’ as a hand continued to stroke your back.

[broidobe]

𝔰𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔲𝔪𝔟

requested!

☾a shy and skeptical bill bailey (pre-fame axl rose) finds unexpected kindness and connection when a girl sits with him in the cafeteria, sharing her lunch and breaking through his guarded exterior.☽

☾warnings: mentions of bullying, social isolation, and mild language☽

⁎⁺˳✧༚guns and roses masterlist

the hum of the school cafeteria buzzed like a hive, full of voices overlapping, laughter spilling from crowded tables, and the occasional scrape of plastic trays against formica. among the chaos, one table sat starkly empty, save for one figure hunched over his lunch.

bill bailey sat with his shoulders rounded and his red hair curtaining his face. he picked at a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, occasionally glancing up through his bangs to check if anyone was watching. his old leather jacket, a little too big for his wiry frame, creaked softly as he moved.

you noticed him from your spot a few tables away. while the rest of the cafeteria seemed animated—friends gossiping, couples sharing fries—bill’s loneliness stood out like a sore thumb. he always sat alone. you’d seen him get shoved into lockers a few times, heard the names people threw his way: “freak,” “redneck,” and worse.

today, though, something made you stand. grabbing your lunch tray, you wove through the tables and made your way toward him.

he looked up as you approached, his green eyes wide with suspicion. “uh… what do you want?” he asked, his voice quiet but sharp enough to put up a barrier.

you smiled gently and set your tray down across from him. “just thought i’d sit with you. is that okay?”

his gaze darted to the other tables, where a few kids had started whispering and pointing. he huffed and looked back down at his sandwich. “you don’t have to. i’m fine by myself.”

“well, i’ve got an extra apple,” you said, pulling it from your tray and rolling it across the table toward him. “figured you might want it.”

bill stared at the apple like it might bite him. “why are you being nice to me?”

you shrugged. “because i want to be. do i need a reason?”

he squinted at you, as if trying to decide whether you were messing with him. when he didn’t immediately shove the apple back, you smiled and unwrapped your sandwich.

the silence stretched for a moment before you spoke again. “so, do you like pb&j, or is it just survival food?”

he blinked, caught off guard by the casual question. “uh, i guess i like it. cheap and easy, y’know?”

you nodded, taking a bite of your sandwich. “can’t argue with that. but if you had to pick your favorite food, what would it be?”

bill hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his sandwich. “i dunno… maybe spaghetti. my mom used to make it a lot.”

“that’s a good choice,” you said, smiling. “i make a pretty mean spaghetti, too. secret ingredient: a pinch of cinnamon in the sauce.”

“cinnamon?” he asked, his eyebrows lifting. “that’s… weird.”

“it’s good, i promise!” you laughed. “i’ll make it for you sometime, and you’ll see.”

bill’s face softened at the idea, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “maybe.”

as the two of you talked, the tension in his shoulders eased. he opened up bit by bit, telling you about the music he liked—bands like led zeppelin and queen—and how he wanted to learn piano but didn’t have one at home. you shared your own favorite bands, and before long, you were laughing together over the ridiculous outfits freddie mercury used to wear on stage.

when the lunch period was nearly over, bill leaned back in his chair, his sandwich mostly eaten and the apple now resting in his hand. “you’re not like the others,” he said, his tone quieter now, almost shy.

you tilted your head. “is that a good thing?”

“yeah,” he said after a moment, a genuine smile breaking across his face. “it is.”

the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, and you stood to gather your tray. “see you tomorrow?” you asked, hopeful.

bill nodded, the apple still in his hand. “yeah. thanks… for sitting with me.”

you flashed him a smile. “anytime, bill.”

as you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance back. he was still sitting there, turning the apple over in his hands with a small, thoughtful smile on his face. for the first time in a long time, he didn’t look quite so alone.

[rosylix143]

sweet as sugar | l. felix

pairing: lee felix x fem!reader

genre: fluff, suggestive

synopsis: your boyfriend is coming over to pick you up for a date, and you baked cookies—well at least you tried your best.

cw: MDNI, established relationship, felix is such a tease (woof woof grrrrr), he calls reader a “good girl" and "sweet girl," light grinding, he is very touchy lmao (let me know if i’m missing anything)

wc: 2627

———————————・❥・———————————

The kitchen was a mess. Your frilly pink apron was covered in flour, the ingredients were still scattered all over the kitchen island, and you were just placing another tray of cookie dough in the oven because your first batch got burnt to a crisp. You told yourself to not dwell on your first failure of the day and move on to cleaning up the kitchen. You quickly threw away all of the scraps into the trash, put all the leftover ingredients in their respective places, and wiped down the kitchen island clean. While cleaning and sanitizing the kitchen, your phone suddenly vibrated in your jean pocket. You jolted a little and grabbed your phone to check what it could be. Your eyes widened at the ringing alarm, and you were rushing to get everything all nice and clean as the clock continued to tick.

Fuck, I have fifteen minutes. This is what I get for waking up late.

The kitchen was now clean, but the only thing you now have left to deal with was the tray of burnt cookies. Oh how you hated looking at them. The sight brought tears to your eyes a little. You wanted to throw them out, but you also hated the idea of just wasting food. Maybe the burntness added some special flavor. You would never know. Before you were reaching to grab one of the burnt cookies, your phone buzzed again. You opened your phone once more, and all you got was one singular text. It was the kind of text you typically loved receiving, but only this time, it sent you to another frenzy.

Lixie: i’m on my way, angel baby. see you soon <3

Oh fuck, he’s on his way. You quickly snatched your apron off, and immediately rushed to your bedroom to change into your clothes for the evening: a simple and cute off-the-shoulder baby blue minidress with white knit stockings, a white ribbon to put your hair up in a half ponytail, and of course a pair of baby blue ballet styled shoes. You planned this whole outfit for weeks but couldn’t figure out the right time for it. Well, this was the day for it. After putting on the outfit, you rushed back to the kitchen to check on the new batch of cookies in the oven. The oven started to ring, and that was your queue to take the cookies out. You put on your pink oven mitts, opened the oven, and gradually took the tray out. However, as you were doing so, your doorbell rang.

Felix!!

You quickly put the hot tray and oven mitts down on the kitchen island, closed the oven, and approached your front door—all while trying to stay as composed as possible. You opened the door, and in front of you was your boyfriend standing in the most lethal outfit he could ever put together. First of all, that damn black turtleneck, which fitted him like a glove. You could even see the little sliver of his skin if you looked down at his waist. He was also wearing a pair of black jeans to go with his shirt, and black leather dress boots. He looked like he just walked out of a VIP event or a business meeting or whatever thing rich people do in their free time. Second of all, his sandy blonde hair looked so soft and fluffy that you just wanted to play with it all day until your heart’s content. And finally, his hands were of course occupied with a large bouquet of your favorite flowers, which made you swoon all over again.

“Hey, Handsome,” you giggled.

Felix couldn’t help but chuckle too. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking in how utterly adorable you looked in your outfit. The way the dress fitted on you, along with the cute stockings made you an enticing sight. Not to mention, all the baby blue: his favorite color, no doubt

“Hey, Gorgeous,” he leaned in and gave you a kiss on the cheek before handing you the bouquet. “I got these for you.”

“Awww you shouldn’t have,” you took the bouquet in your hands and sniffed it, already entranced by the strong floral scent. “Mmmm it smells wonderful.”

“So does your house,” Felix walked in through the door, already hungry from the smell of freshly bake cookies. “Did you make cookies?”

“Yep, I made some. I just took them out of the oven, so they’re still a little hot.”

Felix nodded and walked to the kitchen, while you went to your living room to put the bouquet in the empty glass vase that was on your coffee table. You realized that you forgot to get water for the flowers, so you went back to the kitchen to get a cup of water. Once you entered the kitchen, you saw Felix enjoying the cookies you made—the burnt ones. Your heart stopped, realizing that you totally forgot to take care of the burnt cookies.

“Felix! Why are you eating the burnt ones?!”

“I didn’t know you were a talented baker, Baby,” he teased, wiping the black crumbs off his lips.

“Oh shut up,” you retorted, walking up to kitchen island and pushing the burnt cookies aside. You then grabbed the tray of perfectly baked cookies and put it in front of Felix. “Why have those when you could have these instead?”

You put your hands on your hips and gave your boyfriend a sassy expression. Felix laughed a little, loving how your pouty lips looked. He grabbed one perfectly baked cookie from the tray and took a bite. His heart immediately melted at the first bite, and his eyes rolled back in pleasure, shamelessly moaning. You couldn’t help but laugh at his honest reaction, all while your cheeks were heating up with that pink glow. He chewed on it softly, intending to savor the warm, delicious, and gooey chocolate taste. There was even a hint of saltiness, which was perfect to his taste.

“Mmm, these do taste delicious,” Felix said before pulling you in by the waist and kissing your temple. “You outdid yourself, Pumpkin.”

“Really?” you blush and nuzzle into his side. Your nose was then hit with a puff of his spicy and sweet cologne. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered, and you couldn’t help but get an extra sniff, already making your legs and feel weak.

“Yeah, but the burnt ones are tasty too.”

“You’re lyyyyiiiinnnngggg,” you whined, your voice a little muffled by the fabric of his turtleneck. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“No, Honey, I’m being for real.”

Felix grabbed a burnt cookie and gently pushed it through your lips. Your eyes widened, and you were immediately hit with the hot taste of charcoal and no sweetness. The burnt cookie was so crunchy that it disintegrated in your mouth. Your tongue felt so sandy and dry, and you immediately rushed to the sink to pour yourself a glass of water. Felix laughed, as you took a breather from drinking in so much cold water to wash out the awful, ashy taste.

“See, I told you it wouldn’t taste bad,” Felix chuckled.

“It was awful,” you coughed, “That thing felt like chewing on a burning cigar.”

“At least you did better the second time. The non-burnt cookies really are tasty.”

“You mean it?”

“Of course, Angel,” Felix pulled you closer to his body and held you tight. Your cheeks reddened once more, as his arms wrapped around you. His cologne was once again overwhelming your nose, making you feel a little lightheaded. Not to mention, you could feel his abs through his tight black turtleneck, igniting the temptation to just touch him. “And even if they were burnt, I’d still eat it. I love anything my good girl makes.”

His lips were right against your ear, his hands landed on your waist—tightly grabbing you—and his deep whispers sent shivers up and down your spine. You blushed even more. Your cheeks might as well be a second heater. It wasn’t helping that you could feel his hands slide down your thighs—his fingertips sneaking a little up under your dress.

“Feeeeelllliiiixxxxxx,” you whined again, squirming in his touch. “Don’t tease meeeee.”

Felix laughed and kissed your neck tenderly, sniffing your very fragrant and sweet perfume, immediately recognizing the scent.

“You’re wearing the perfume I bought you,” he said, “Mmm…You smell so sweet with it. Sweet like sugar.”

Felix kissed your neck more, and you melt into his touch, letting his hands wander on your skin and do whatever they pleased. You couldn’t help it yourself when you teasingly rolled your hips back up against Felix’s front, coaxing a deep groan out of him. You giggled, but it was cut off when he gripped your hips tighter and pulled you closer. You hitched a breath, and Felix pinned you against the counter. You were facing the sink, while Felix was behind you, holding all the power of the world in his hands.

“Felix—”

“You look so pretty today, Y/N…” Felix whispered in your ear, his voice so deep and husky. “My sweet girl always looks pretty for me, yes? That cute dress is very tempting.”

Your breath was coming out in small pants, and your face was probably redder than a rose. Felix still held you tight and nibbled on your ear, as he gently rubbed the growing tent in his pants up against your ass. You whined and arched your back against his chest. The butterflies in your stomach were fluttering faster, making all the heat rush and pool down to your core. You were on the verge of dropping your panties right there in the kitchen. However, you remembered that you wanted to go through with the original plan for the date first before doing anything else.

“Felix, wait,” you started.

“What’s wrong?” Felix pulled away slightly and stopped his movements—his hands still on your hips.

You turned around and faced him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You looked deep into his pretty chocolate eyes, and gently ran your fingers through the back of his sandy blonde hair, tugging it a little.

“We have a movie to watch, remember?”

A small smile formed on Felix’s lips, and he leaned in to kiss your plush lips.

“How could I forget?” he asked, “What movie are we watching again?”

Felix stepped away from you to give you space, for you were moving to gather all the good cookies and put them in the cookie jar and throwing away the burnt ones.

“Beauty and the Beast,” you answered, as you grabbed a bag you prepared—full of other movie snacks and drinks—and put the cookie jar in the bag. “They’re showing it at the drive-in theater.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Felix smiled warmly at you, ready to watch his favorite movie with his favorite person.

You left the bag on the kitchen island to grab a small measuring cup, filled it with water, and walked to the living room to finally water the new bouquet of flowers. You grabbed your purse from the couch and then went back to the kitchen to grab the snack bag. You looked up at your boyfriend with fond eyes.

“Ready to go, Hon?” you smiled.

Felix looked at you back with loving eyes, and went in for a sweet kiss on your lips.

“Of course, I am,” he said softly.

With triumph, you excitedly rushed to exit your house and get in the passenger’s seat of Felix’s car. Felix couldn’t help but laugh fondly, loving how excited you are to spend the evening with him. He closed the door behind him, making sure to lock it with the spare key you handed him. Felix then got in the driver's seat of his car and started the engine.

“Is it the same theater we went to last time?” he asked.

“Yep,” you replied.

Felix nodded, and he buckled his belt, as did you. He pulled away from the driveway, and he started the drive to the theater. You laid back in your seat like a passenger princess, and you were beginning to snack on the cookies you made. Felix looked over at you, and he couldn’t help but put his hand on your thigh. You blushed as he squeezed your soft flesh. Drives with him were always like this. The city lights were sparkling and shining so bright, your favorite songs were in the background, and your boyfriend was holding onto you while you looked through your window.

Your stomach growled a bit, and there was some pain too. You remembered that you got so caught up with baking the cookies that you forgot to actually eat something. You reached down to your feet and grabbed the cookie jar from the snack bag and took one cookie. You snacked on the cookie you grabbed, and Felix snuck a glance at you enjoying your little treat. A few minutes later, you both finally arrived at the drive-in theater. Felix parked the car in front of a very large screen, and he turned on the radio for the movie. You then pulled out more snacks for you both to enjoy, along with some soda.

“Tonight’s gonna be fun,” you said as you unbuckled your seatbelt.

Felix also unbuckled his belt, and he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around your shoulder.

“Mmhmm….” he agreed, immediately nuzzling into your neck, kissing it softly. Your face glowed pink, and you couldn’t help but squirm from the ticklish feeling. “I love you so much.”

“Love you too, Honey,” you ran your hand through his sandy blonde hair, taking in a moment to feel his softness, but you immediately bursted into laughter when his hand started touching your lower stomach, his fingers dancing. “Felix!! That tickles!!”

“Sorry, Angel Baby, I couldn’t help myself.”

The movie was about to start, and the two of you got even more comfortable in your car seats. You handed Felix a soda bottle, and you grabbed one for yourself. Felix took his bottle and started to sip on it, while you started snacking on the chips.

“Can I have one, Y/N?” he asked.

“Okay,” you nodded.

You handed Felix the cookie jar, and Felix happily grabbed another cookie for himself. He placed a kiss on your temple, inhaling the scent of your lovely floral shampoo. He then opened his mouth wide and took the sweet treat into his mouth. He hummed in satisfaction, falling in love with the warm, sweet, and chocolatey taste all over again.

“Hmmm…what’s the secret ingredient, Pumpkin? How are your cookies better than mine?”

“I used the same recipe, Honey,” you replied.

“My recipe?”

You only nodded, and Felix was shocked by your answer. The same recipe, yet different tastes. Perhaps there really was some magic touch that you had, or maybe the cookies tasted better because it was you who made them.

“You think they’re better?” you asked, your heart fluttering with warm excitement.

“Yes, they’re way better. Even when they’re burnt.”

“Feeellliiiixxxx.”

“It’s true, Honey, it’s true.”

The movie finally began, and you focused your attention on the movie, while Felix had most of his attention on you. He wanted to pay attention to the movie and let you enjoy it yourself, but he just couldn’t help it. He was addicted to you. You were just too good and too sweet to simply ignore. Felix nuzzled his head into your neck once more, inhaling the sweetness of your perfume. God, he loved that scent. It was the scent of flowers and wine. The sweetest you could ever be. But nothing could ever compare to the sweetness of you—sweeter than sugar.

———————————・❥・———————————

a/n: i don’t know if i like this one as much as my last felix fic but oh well lol. comment down your thoughts and reblog if you liked it <3

masterlist | taglist

[grey-lark]

So Steve having a different car in the the pics I saw filled me with a lot of feelings, both a really fun reason and a terribly sad one. This is the sad one! I might also upload this to AO3 once I edit when it's not 6AM, but I hope you enjoy?

The Bimmer doesn’t’ make sense in an apocalyptic situation.

Steve knows this.

As the Upside Down claws it’s way into this universe, tendrils carving pathways across the town, a luxury car just doesn’t make sense.

Steve is well aware.

Hell, Steve is even more aware of this fact because he’s stationed at the high school. Hauling supplies and survivors requires space. It doesn’t require comfort and a smooth transmission. It doesn’t require leather worn by multiple people launching themselves in with reckless abandon, or a back seat that’s somehow always sticky because of soda-stained hands.

It doesn’t require what Steve can offer.

Loch Nora has been seemingly unaffected by the upside down. Steve would say it was the wealthy’s one last jab against the town if he hadn’t seen so many of his former neighbors huddling in the high school. It seems no matter how rich you are, no one can avoid the hunger - the desperation that comes from being completely cut off from the rest of the world.

Steve lets the engine idle in the drive way of his old house. The intact windows gleam with a promise he’d be willing to brave if he didn’t know for a fact how the twisted vines covered the bottom floor of the house. Pressing his head against the steering wheel, he lets the out a shuttering sigh, feeling how the Bimmer purrs, seemingly in time, below him.

“I know, baby” he laments, running a hand across her dashboard before he steals himself and twists the key in his hand. She shutters down, his own shaky breath following.

It feels right, Steve thinks, to leave her here. To leave her in the remnants of a life he used to live. He slides her keys into the visor, in case there is some one who needs her. Someone who can justify loving her, in a way Steve simply can’t.

There’s a truck waiting for him.

Something practical and light blue; such a far cry from his maroon baby. It makes sense, he knows. He knows that a truck will help him in this new, harsh, world they live in. Knows it will be easier to ferry survivors back to the school and supplies to where they need to go. But he can’t help but look at the Bimmer, now silent in front of his old house, and remember how she safely - impossibly - carried five (sometimes six!) children to the mall regardless of seatbelt laws. How she dutifully shuffled Robin to and from school back when they thought their biggest concerns were whether a girl liked them or not. He can hear Bowie and Queen still playing from her speakers and his breath falters, gasping, as he could swear it’s not just in his head.

Maybe somewhere, there are quarters still rattling around, waiting for Dustin to pry them from her carpet, not knowing the arcade has been swallowed for months. Maybe now there’s even the tail end of a blunt under one of front seats, safely kept after Robin dropped it, laughing too hard to hold on to the last few puffs. Maybe, if Steve presses himself against her side hard enough, all the stains – all the memories – will seep into him and leave the Bimmer a little less haunted.

It doesn’t work, of course.  Even after he opens his eyes, after he peels himself from her metal chaises with a shuddering breath, she’s still standing there, same as she ever was. His childhood home too, stands there as it ever has.

They make quite the picture. The large green house and the sleek maroon car and the boy with the styled hair.

All so put together.

All falling apart.

But it’s okay. There’s a truck waiting for him. It’s practical and light blue. The kids have already climbed into it’s back; figuring out their seating arrangements before Steve even had time to yell at them about the safety issues of riding back there. Max will sit up front in the cabin with him, no matter how much she complains – Vecna assured that. But even she smiles when she hears the hoots and hollers of The Party in the back, howling their freedom in defiance to an ever reddening sky.

Steve’s finger brush the taillight of the Bimmer, before running through his own hair. He sees the house he grew up in; the streets that were his home. He sees his car, his baby, shining like she did when he first saw her. He leaves her, a useless car parked outside an empty home.

His car.

Parked outside his home.

There is a truck waiting for him.

[wormoftoji]

The way that I’m frothing at the mouth over Degrees of Lewdity is actually insane. It’s driving me bonkers that I can’t talk to any of my friends about it 😩 reader has a pussy but no pronouns are used

Also, this turned out so much longer that I thought it would, I just really love Eden. Anyway, definitely a Dead Dove warning, but if you’re into DoL, it’s nothing out of the ordinary

You were exactly what Eden had been searching for. A cute little thing with a pretty neck that looked even prettier with the thick leather collar locked around your neck. The way you cry and thrash just excites him more, and maybe he’s a little tough with you at the start, but can you blame him? You’re just so cute when you’re fucked stupid.

It is a little annoying when you try to escape though. When you squirm and try to loosen your binds while he pretends to sleep next to you. He’s tired but he lets you struggle for now, he knows you’ll come around once he starts training you for real. It’s easy to fall asleep after that, the slightest smile making his lips quirk up as he drifts off to thoughts of you as the eager little housewife he knows you’ll become.

Eden likes waking up next to you, even though it’s obvious you only get a few hours of exhaustion induced rest. It’s an addictive sight to watch you as the morning sun filters in from the window, high lighting the curves and dips of your form. All the bruises and bite marks littering your skin. He eyes the ones he knows aren’t from him and he hates them. It makes his heart ache to be gentle with you, but he refrains. He knows he has to be harsh in his trading before he can reward you.

Training you takes a long time. Eden knew it would, you’re stubborn and fight like a bat out of hell and as annoying as it is, he’s endeared by it. He loves hearing your threats and demands melt into pleading whimpers as he stretches your hold open on his thick cock. He doesn’t know if there’s any better feeling then making you cum with his dick pressed all the way into you, burying load after load into your womb. God, he can’t wait until you get pregnant.

Little by little, Eden watches as your mind begins to fracture, your control slipping as he molds you. You make his favorite breakfast easily now, mend his clothes, and you don’t scream anymore. You keep that cabin clean, manage his books, tend to the weeds in the garden and even plant some things of your own. And so he rewards you.

Eden makes a loathed trip into town, sells a handful of forage, and makes his way to bustling shopping center. The crowd disgusts him and the noise irritates him but he pushes on. He stops at a boutique, drawn in by a simple gingham dress. He gets you a few pairs of plain panties too, even though he prefers you without them. He indulges in himself too and buys a few new books to read to you. And a recipe book because frankly, you only know how to make one meal well.

When he returns home, he finds you waiting for him. The yard looks nicer than ever and he knows the inside of the cabin is spotless. It brings a smile to his face when he sees you sitting in the pour h and the gaze that had been absently staring into the distance slides to him. He watches your eyebrows furrow as he hands you the bag and instructs you to put it on. He lets you do it in the bathroom, lips twitching into a frown when he hears a stifled sob. It pisses him off. But that anger quickly dissipates when you step out of the bathroom wearing the dress. You make the prettiest sight he’s every seen and for the first time in months since he brought you home, there a tiny smile on your lips.

Eden knows then that’s he’s succeeded. You’re his pretty little housewife, obedient and reliant on him, and oh so sweet. Now he just needs to fill you up with his babies and it’ll be the fairytale kind of life he craves.

[popcornforone]

… Which Ignites

Day twenty of the Seasons of Life Drabble Challenge

A Javier Peña Fic

MASTERLIST

Suprise!!!

If you were here a couple of hours ago you will have seen I’ve already published something for today, a poem. But as I was writing the poem full of Javiers angst, I was like what would the reader truly see, what would be their heavenly view… so here we are. An actual fic.

Synopsis:- You stumble upon a heavenly sight at the gym.

Word count:- 450

No real warning until the last sentence, a bit of injury detail & pining & ogling, but nothing much more.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this, it won’t be happening again but I’m glad the poem made me write an actual fic. & I had to publish them both for you today. Cheers @berryispunk & @lady-bess for allowing me to do 2 for the price of one today. @fanfictionoverload for all the prompts.

Normal service will be back tomorrow. Click here for the poem

The gym smelled like leather & sweat, the faint clang of weights & the hum of the air conditioning filling the otherwise quiet space. You had come to escape your demons, hoping to find solace in the rhythmic pounding across the treadmill. But then you saw him.

Javier Peña.

He stood in the corner, illuminated by a dim beam of light that somehow made him seem like a sculpted god. His eyes burned with focus as he taped his hands, knuckles already raw from hours on the bag. You paused as you got to the machine, breath hitched, mesmerised by him.

& then it began.

The first punch landed with a crack that echoed across the gym. You flinch but couldn’t look away. His movements were fluid, each jab, each hook, calculated, a controlled fury channeled into every strike. The heavy bag swung wildly, as if it were trying to escape the force of his blows.

It wasn’t just the strength that held you captive, there was plenty of that. It was the rhythm, the quiet poetry in his movements. He fought as if the bag represented every mistake, every regret, every shadowed figure in his past that he couldn’t let go.

You watched as sweat darkened his pale pink t-shirt, clinging to his chest & shoulders. His hair glistening, damp & a mess, but he didn’t pause. The only thing that mattered was the next punch, direct & strong.

For a moment, you forgot yourself entirely, lost in the scene unfolding before your eyes. It felt intimate. There was no audience here, no applause waiting for him at the end. This was just Peña & his fight. But you are the audience secretly enjoying each second .

He paused briefly, rolling his neck with a grimace, & he caught you staring. Your heart thudding like a drum in your chest. His dark eyes met yours, unreadable, but something flickered there, amusement, maybe, or a quiet acknowledgment of your admiration. You wished you could look away but you just couldn’t Instead, you tilt your head, blush, a hesitant smile.

He nodded, just once, before returning to the bag. The connection was fleeting, but it felt significant, like a bridge built between two lonely souls in a world that often demanded too much.

As you left the gym after your work out, the echoes of his punches still resonated in your mind, along with a single thought:

There’s something heavenly about watching a man fight not for glory, but for himself.

Whereas Javier mind is thinking of something else:

Who was she, this heavenly Angel, & how can I get her handcuffed to my bed post?

[97luvs]

he’s so gorgeous.

[mechazushi]

So, this isn't so much an "Incorrect Quotes"...

So much as an "I have a vision, but I'm not an artist so I have to settle for writing it out and hope someone understands what I'm picturing."

For starters, ya'll know about the artist trend of putting your OC's or favorite characters in a specific dress...

ya know... this one⬇

Yeah, just...ALL of Division Three. And I mean all + Narumi. Here how it sounds in my head. (Its more of a comic? It's just mostly dialogue than anything and they're just standing in a line talking to each other.) {And keep in mind....THEY ARE ALL WEARING THE DRESS AS THEY SAY THIS. ITS 90% OF THE JOKE}

Mina: When I said I was nervous about my first promotional modeling gig for Vogue, That didn't mean it was an open invitation to come out here and.... "Support me".

Kafka: Come on. This can't be any more embarrassing than that time you caught me in the sexy lingerie I was wearing for my high school prank.

Hoshina: *In air, eyes glowing woke spartan style, mid assassin strike aimed at Kafka with a training sword, ALSO IN THE DRESS* pics or it didn't happen-

Reno: Look. We're here, we showed up in the dress, can we leave now? I'm getting cold in places I don't want to be cold.

Iharu: Aww, come on! You look dashing! Few more pics! *Somehow managed to convince the photographer to take the shot of them*

Haruichi: The fact that you're filling this out better than me is disturbing.

Aoi:*Trying not to let his blush show* Are the lights getting to you because you're talking bullshit.

Minase: Oh my God! KIKORU!!!! You look amazing!!!

Kikoru:*embarrassed* Minassseee.... I-I'm with Reno. Can we change into our work jumpers now?

Hakua: Hey, can I take this one home? Makin' me feel hella confident right now. *Starts a gun show in front of a mirror.*

Narumi: *In front of the same mirror Hakua is in, serving cunt and taking selfies* Honestly, ya'll should just put me on the cover instead of Mina cuz' I'm pulling this off way better than her in the moment.

I also like to imagine that instead of Mina on the cover... It's Kafka in Kaiju form in the dress. The glowing abs would absolutely be visible as well....

[todayisafridaynight]

getting wigs for characters with the same hair color as myself make me feel like the biggest dumbass around but youd have me fucked thinking im burdening myself with daigos 2000's emo cut just for a weekend