#minty-bubblegum

[simpingseafood]

bites you

[simpingseafood]

You broke my tsum-tsum

HOWLS AT THE MOON EXPLODES MICROWAVES MYSELF CRJES SCRATCHES AT MY ASYLUM DOORS THROWS SHIT BREAKS MY JAW KISSES TGEM HUGS THEM CUDDLES THEM BITE BITE BITE NIBBLE GNAW SLURPS THE SKIN FROM TGEIR SHOULDER SOBBING GLEEFULLY MY EARS BLEED MY GUTS REARRANGE THEMSELVES I PUNCH THEIR STUPID CUTE FACE I PLACE MYSELF IN THEIR MAILBOX AND JUMPSCARE THEM I EAT THEIR FINGER GRAAAH AWOOOOO MEOW MEOW MEOW BARK BARK

[lemoocado]

color wheel challenge! 🌈

[nextgenfoals]

what a cute blog idea! hope you don't get swamped with requests too fast - i'd like to suggest either a Pinkie Pie/Rainbow Dash kid, or if whoever takes this happens to prefer background ponies, Minty Bubblegum/Sweet Biscuit! <3

Bring back nextgen kids that are main 6+background best friends >:]

[cosmicriff]

LyraBon family (headcanon/au)

[sentabeartospace]

[mylittlestims]

Minty Bubblegum Stimboard!!

(X) (X) (X)

(X) (X) (X)

(X) (X) (X)

[tomatoderby]

I finally made an entry for furbruary as hosted by bailie.waters.tattoos on Instagram! This is my entry for day 10 (late as hell I know): sweet. I came up with the furby name Minty Fresh Sins of the Flesh like a month ago and wanted an opportunity to draw a long furby that would conceivably have that for a name, and this challenge gave me the opportunity.

Is mint chocolate your favourite ice cream flavour? If not, what is your favourite flavour instead?

Reblogs and likes are welcome, but no reposting please.

[wheucto]

why are most adult toothpastes mint-flavored? literally what is the purpose. where's the variety? what about the people who can't stand mint?

[prideplus]

[impala-dreamer]

Go On and Beg

A Supernatural Story

~Dean Winchester has got quite a mouth on him, and he knows just what do to drive you insane...~

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

3,033 Words

Warnings: NSFW, Dean's Slutty Lips, Oral, Multiple Orgasms, Smutty Smutty Smut. | Originally posted to Patreon July 2023

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

It just wasn’t fair. He had been teasing you all day with those plump, sexy lips, driving you nearly insane.

For some reason, he needed to steal a lollipop from the bank during witness questioning, sneaking a red sucker into his sports coat pocket while you were talking to the bank manager. He sucked that thing for a good half hour while driving around town, his left elbow on the window, his hand casually on the steering wheel. His eyes were only half on the road, the rest of the time checking on you, watching how your gaze was drawn to his mouth every time he made a sucking sound, and he did it so quite often. When he finally found the paper stick inside, he crunched down on the sugar and you were thankful that the ordeal was over. There was only so much you could do to hide the fact that you were squirming in the passenger’s seat.

At lunch, the bastard asked the waitress for a straw, which he rarely did. “Real men don’t use straws”, he’d often tease, but this was a different kind of teasing. He was listening while you rambled on over theories of the case, but his ultimate attention was trying to grab yours. So many times, he reached for the straw with his tongue, letting the wide muscle sneak out of his mouth and toy with the plastic tube, rolling it around a bit until you had no choice but to acknowledge the movements. Your body ached at the sight, thinking of that tongue flickering against your pussy instead of the pop-filled straw.

During a meeting with Mr. Pennacker, one of the victim’s teachers, Dean decided that trying to blow bubbles with his non-bubblegum gum was a grand idea. He slipped the white minty mess onto the tip of his tongue, pushing it between his teeth and puckering his lips. There was little hope for you then, as he cracked a tiny bubble between his teeth and smirked your way. Your panties were soaked and you wondered if the hose you wore would hold it all in.

While working that evening in the motel room, he seemed to think that chewing on his pen was a great idea, sliding the thing in and out of his mouth and puckering his lips tight around the tip. It was mesmerizing and utterly delicious the way he made love to the pen and your nipples craved the same attention, your clit throbbed in anticipation.

When he tapped the pen on his bottom teeth, you shifted in your seat, unable to take it any longer.

The chair legs scraped hard over the floor, the wood nearly fell tipped over when you sprang from your seat and lunged at him.

“Whoa!” The pen fell from his hand as he held them both up, offering a surrender that you wouldn’t allow. “What’s goin’ on?”

Furious and aroused, you grabbed a fistfull of his collar and tugged, forcing him to sit up straight and meet your gaze.

Dean smirked. “You seem pissed.”

“Oh, not pissed,” you assured him, stepping back to drag him to his feet. “Horny. Very… very fucking hot right now. And it’s all your fault.”

He stumbled forward as you stepped backwards, his shirt still clutched in your hand.

“Is that so?” Green eyes swept down your body and he reached for your hips. “And I wonder what could have made you so… turned on…”

Yanking his face down to your level, you snapped your teeth. “Don’t act like you haven’t been screwing with me all day, mister. I know your games.”

He licked his lips ridiculously slowly and your eyes dropped to them, fascinated, entranced, desperate. The fire in your soul died down and everything melted. Your hold on him eased and Dean snuck his fingers into the hem of your skirt. He knew he had you, knew what you needed, what you were dying for.

“You do, huh?”

Another swipe of tongue, a flash of teeth.

“Please…” You didn’t mean to say it, but sometimes your brain just let things slip out. Sometimes, he had control of you and that was just fine by you. “Dean…”

Pushing up on your toes, you tried to kiss him but he turned at the last second, kissing your cheek instead. You groaned and tried to move, but he had you caught between his giant hands, your face locked where he wanted. He kissed his way down your jaw and dipped his lips against your pulse, making your knees give out and your head flood with pleasure.

“Fuck!”

“Still mad?” he asked, lips pulling on your throat.

“Never…”

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you up and against him as he pulled your blouse to the side and sucked a mark on your shoulder. Your hands slid between your bodies, fingers fumbling with buttons and zippers, desperate to shed the Fed outfits and feel his burning skin against yours.

“Please-”

He laughed at your whisper and growled against your ear. “You want me?”

Your nod was insufficient and he locked his thick fingers behind your neck, jerking your face up to his.

“Say it.”

His tone washed over you and your pussy clenched at the emptiness. “I want you, Dean,” you breathed, still stuck staring at his impossibly juicy lips. “Want you so bad. Please.”

There was a rush of air, and a tumble of limbs. He tore at your clothes, stripping you down with rough fingertips and soothing kisses until you were bare but for the horrible panty hose and thin panties beneath. The elastic dug into your stomach and you moved to tear it away, but Dean grabbed your hands and shook his head.

“No. Keep them on.” His jaw twitched and his eyes fell down to the gusset between your thighs. “I like them.”

You groaned. “Really? They suck.”

His right hand slid down, fingers teased at the nude shimmer on your thigh. “Keep them on.”

You nodded absently and he fit his palm between your legs, rubbing upwards with a firm but infuriating push. It just wasn’t enough. It wasn’t fair.

“Please, Dean…” You grabbed at his shoulders, spread your legs to encourage him. “Need you so bad.”

With an evil grin, he stepped away, turning his back on you.

“But-”

Dean cleared his throat and pointed to the bed. “Lie down.”

Pouting, you did as he said, resting your head on the pillow and watching as he undressed. He took his time, but made no show of it for you, gently placing his suit pieces on the back of a chair while yours lay in a pile on the floor.

Waiting was horrible. Every inch of skin he uncovered made your pulse quicken. Each flex of back muscle had you leaking a little more. You squirmed over the blanket and bit your lip hard, waiting as patiently as you could.

Finally, he was finished and he turned back to you, naked and beautiful, tanned and perfectly delicious. Your eyes fell down his body and when you saw his cock, long and half hard, curved towards his left leg, your jaw dropped and your mouth flooded with drool.

“Oh, you’re too much fun,” he joked, laughing gently at you. “Doesn’t take much to get you all worked up, does it?”

You laughed at yourself and rolled your eyes. “I guess not.”

Before you could blink, he was on the bed, crawling over you like a lion, hands and knees digging into the old mattress. The springs creaked and your muscles tensed. His lips puckered and your mind slipped away.

Dean hovered over you for a long second that seemed like forever, toying with you, enjoying the pathetic look on your face.

“Please…”

He shifted and brought a knee up to part your legs and you gasped at the pressure against your needy clit.

“Dean…”

He dipped his chin to lick at your lips, but refused a kiss, pulling back when you reached up for him.

Water welled in your eyes and annoyance rang in your voice. “Why are you doing this to me?”

He clicked his tongue and cocked his head to the side, enjoying everything about you. “Doing what?”

You groaned and pressed your fingertips up against his chest, batted your lashes up at him. “You’re being so mean to me.”

His nose grazed over yours, his breath danced across your thirty lips. “How?”

“Teasing me so bad when you know I need it.”

Dean smiled and dropped down, crushing you with his weight and setting his mouth by your ear. His confession was a whisper that sent shivers through you.

“I just love to hear you beg.”

It wasn’t fair. It was all too much. You pushed your body up, arching against him, breasts, hips, lips, every bit of you calling out to every inch of him.

“Please, Dean. Please don’t do this to me. I need you.”

The need in your tone made him growl gently and he nipped at your ear before pushing up onto his arms. “There it is,” he praised, finally giving you a proper kiss.

You moaned into his mouth, wrapped your hands around his head, scraped into his scalp, pulling him, begging him with your entire being.

He was gone too soon, but he kept his lips upon you, sliding down your body with wet, suckling kisses that drove you wild. He nibbled on your shoulder, sucked hard on each nipple, plucked a bruise onto your belly.

Every touch was like a spark of bliss, every press of his beautiful lips drawing you deeper into his game. He moved up and down, back and forth across you, kissing you everywhere but where you needed it the most.

Covered in him, you whined, thrust your hips against his chest, begging once more.

“Need it so bad, Dean. Please. Please!”

He looked up at you, green eyes bright and happy. “What do you need?” he asked, eyes on yours while he dropped a kiss to the soft flesh of your stomach.

“You…”

He pulled up and shook his head. “Be. More. Specific.”

You squirmed, unable to ask for it. It was too strange to say it out loud, you were too shy to ever ask.

Dean saw the nerves twist on your face and he helped you out a bit, slinking down and spreading your legs with his broad shoulders. “Go on, Y/N… Ask me. Beg me. Say it.”

Pushing up on your shoulders, you looked down at him, hoping the pain on your face would be enough. “Dean… I- please? Please do it…”

Again, he shook his head. “Not until you say it. You have to beg me for it.”

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.

Dean opened his mouth and pressed it against your covered pussy, breathing out a mass of hot air that penetrated the thin fabric and ignited a fire so strong that a cry caught in the back of your throat.

“Dean!”

He pressed his tongue flat against the nylon and drew his face upwards. “Say it.”

“I- I can’t-”

“You can.” He gnawed on the fabric lightly and your hips jerked. “Say. It.”

He moved his lips again and pressed his index finger against your padded slit, pushing in just enough to make your brain sizzle.

You snapped, finally breaking and begging with all you had. “Fuck! Please eat my pussy, Dean. Please! I need your mouth on me so bad. Fuck!”

Dean lifted his head and smirked. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

A desperate whimper answered him and he took pity.

Two hands on your thighs, Dean ripped the shining hose from your body, splitting it wide open. The tear echoed through your head and you melted into the pillow, rocked your hips, clawed at the sheets.

“Please!”

A second rip tugged your panties away and your cunt glistened, wet and needy, ready for him.

Dean hummed happily at the sight and flicked the very tip of his tongue over your flesh.

“God! Fuck! Please, please lick my pussy, Dean!”

Hands on your hips, he pushed his way into you, spreading your sodden lips with his stubbled cheeks. The sting was worth it and you cried out blissfully as his tongue dove into your throbbing cunt.

“Yes! Jesus, fuck!”

Dean chuckled into you, and the vibrations made your eyes roll. His tongue slicked up to your clit and he pressed two long fingers deep inside.

“You taste so good,” he praised, lips staying just above your clit. “So fucking good, baby.”

Bucking your hips, you drove yourself into his mouth, done with waiting, done with begging. He got what he wanted, now it was your turn.

He pumped his hand, flicked his tongue, pulsed his lips, tugged, bit, slobbered all over you. Your head filled with mushy pleasure and you rubbed your tits, pinched your nipples, rolled your body into him. You humped his face, loving the hard bump of his nose against your flesh and the thought of coating him in your juices.

Dean hummed as he worked, getting himself off while he got you off. When he felt your body clench down, he picked up his pace, fucking deep into you until he felt the snap, the rush of warmth run down his wrist.

“So good, baby,” he praised, but kept his fingers where they were, stroking that sweet spot inside. “One more…”

The orgasm rolled over you and you dropped a hand to his head, trying to push him away. He shook his head, this time with his plump lips against your clit and you screamed out, quickly clamping your hand over your mouth.

“Fuck! Please!”

“Gonna make you cum until you can’t think straight,” he warned, voice like a raspy song. He added a third finger and you pushed down onto his hand, unconsciously taking him in deeper. “Such a needy thing…”

“Yeah.” You tugged on his ear, wiggled your hips, wanting his mouth again. “So needy. Need your mouth, Dean. Need it.”

He licked the sheen from his lips and locked eyes with you. They never left even as he sank down and took a bite of your inner thigh. They stayed with you as he kissed the crease of your leg, licked a long stroke up your clit, set his lips around your clit. He kept his gaze on your face until your eyes rolled back and you fell down against the pillow, wrecked with pleasure, thrumming with another orgasm.

“So good, baby… So good…”

Still, he wouldn’t take his fingers away.

It wasn’t fair. It was too much.

“I can’t!”

“You can.”

Dean sealed his lips around your raw clit and sucked hard, swirled his tongue, flicked it like a metronome until he felt you break again. When your juices hit his elbow, he finally relaxed, pulling his fingers from your cunt and taking a breath.

Moaning, you squirmed on the bed, needing to close your legs and curl up, hide in the blanket for a moment to come down, but Dean wouldn’t let you rest.

He knelt between your legs and grabbed your hips, tugging you down and up. Your ass rested on his thighs and you gasped as he drew his thumb through your slick.

“No, Dean, I can’t-”

His teeth snagged on the corner of his mouth and his eyes went dark. “Oh, you can.” He rubbed on your clit lightly, dragging the need back through you. “You can come as many times as I want. I told you. Gonna make you nice and stupid.”

The aching tightness appeared again and Dean picked up his pace. His gaze was focused on your face, the way you struggled to hold your breath, keep back a scream. He pressed a little harder and saw the spark behind your eyes as the pleasure snapped again.

“Fuck!”

“Knew you could do it,” he whispered, leaving your clit to wrap his right hand around his cock. He stroked himself to fullness and tapped the head on your pussy, slapping gently.

“Dean!” Your eyes went fuzzy, your mouth fell slack.

“You want this?” he asked, rutting his hips and driving the shaft through your folds, teasing mercilessly.

“I do,” you whimpered, “please-”

“You know what you have to do,” he growled. “Go on and beg.”

Dean grit his teeth and nudged the very tip of his cock at your entrance. You could feel his heartbeat through his cock and your bodies pulsed together, both stuck on the very edge of madness.

He thrust his hips just a tiny bit and your thoughts emptied like he had turned on a faucet.

“Fuck me, Dean! Fuck my pussy, please! Need your cock so fucking bad, please fuck me. Please!”

A sneering smile tugged on his swollen lips and Dean gave in, sinking into your cunt with one fluid push.

Your body trembled and he shifted, setting your ass down on the bed and crawling forward to fuck you deep and hard.

The bed rocked.

The blanket rumpled.

Your scream nearly woke the neighbor.

He couldn’t move once he came, hunching over you with a stupid, empty look on his freckled face. His mouth hung open, his vision was blurred. He panted, shoulders moving fast as his heart raced in his chest.

“Holy fuck.” He was wasted and sated and somehow managed to pull out before he collapsed, leaving a slick stain between your thighs. “That was- incredible…” He drew a big hand down his face, wiping off your wetness, waking himself up.

A heavy, sleepy sigh passed through you and you rolled toward him, curling your arms beneath your head. “That- you got a good- that mouth is- fucking wowwy.”

He laughed sweetly and turned, curling in to face you. “Hey, it worked. I fucked you stupid.”

It was too funny, but he was right. It wasn’t fair. It was too perfect.

“Yeah, well…” You slapped a hand onto his cheek and smiled. “Anytime you wanna do it again, you just lemme know.”

Dean turned his face and kissed your palm. “All you have to do is ask…”

2024 Tags 

@feelmyroarrrr @caplanbuckybarnes @mariekoukie6661 @alwaystiredandconfused @zepskies

@k-slla @foxyjwls007 @shadyloveobject @cosicas-cuquis @luvr4miya

@deanwinchesterswitch @cevansdove-baby @somebrokeartstudent @peytongoose @illicithallways

Add Yourself To The List

[whspermy-name]

No won 😡😡😡😡😡😡

[minty-bubblegum]

I found this gum in my wallet that's been rhere for like 4 months taste test

[roguelov]

Bubblegum Pop

Summary: An annoying habit of yours - popping your gum - finally pushed Miguel over the edge. So, he decided to finally take action.

Word Count: ~1.7k

Reader: Gender Neutral (not specified)

Warnings: Brief heated make-out (nothing more, just a hint of spice), a little arguing, unestablished relationship

Pop.

Hunched forward - back aching slightly from the uncomfortable position - at your new desk in Miguel’s office, you blew yet again another bubble. It was the umpteenth one within the short hour. Miguel gritted his teeth, each pop grated on his ears.

Why? Why did he agree to this?

Ah, yes, your scientific background.

You had offered your assistance to try to find a more permanent way to prevent anomalies from spilling out into other universes. He was obviously reluctant at first, but before he could say no - as per usual with any help - Lyla appeared saying yes for him. Sighing, he relented. He did need help, he happened to also be very stubborn too. But, he definitely did not agree to deal with your annoying habit.

Wherever you went, and at most times of the day, a piece of gum was slotted between your teeth. You always chewed on a piece, enjoying the simple habit. You like rolling it over your tongue and throughout your mouth, savoring the always fleeting minty taste, and of course blowing bubbles. Sigmund Freud might say you have an oral fixation.

Worst of all, in Miguel’s opinion, the sweet minty aroma clung fiercely to you. One brush by and his senses were assaulted by you.

And it drove Miguel insane.

Dear god, he wanted to kiss you, knowing exactly how you would taste on his tongue. He wanted to have you pinned beneath him, writhing in pleasure. He wanted to nuzzle his nose into your neck, inhaling deeply and running his tongue over your skin. He wanted to -

Pop.

Miguel flinched.

His spiraling thoughts were viciously cut short; thankfully before he got too heated and distracted. His lips thinned. His anger wasn’t all directed solely at you, but mostly at himself for delving into such lustful thoughts. Again.

It was just easier to be angry at someone else.

Miguel peered over his shoulder, glaring a little at you. He stood at his desk on the circular platform that rested a foot off the ground, rather than raised high above towards the ceiling. He tried to keep his voice calm as he spoke, “Can you stop that?”

“Huh?” You glanced over at him slightly confused. The piece of gum rested on your bottom lip and teeth before your tongue swept it back into the dark corners of your mouth. “What?”

Oh, that only further irritated him; your genuine obliviousness to how annoying and frustrating your popping was to his sensitive ears. As if proving his point, you absentmindedly blew another bubble.

“That. Stop doing that,” he huffed.

You blinked, “Oh, uh, sorry.”

You quickly turned back to your screens. You felt a little embarrassed. It wasn’t intentional - it never was - and you felt somewhat guilty for upsetting him. You thought about spitting it out, but you enjoyed the minor stimulation. Then again, you supposed you should act a little more professional. Maybe, you will try to cut back.

Maybe.

Miguel eyed you for a moment. Your figure was hunched forward again. Yet, there was a new tension woven into your body, as if you were trying to shrink away. He sighed. He shouldn’t have snapped, and he should apologize. However, he didn’t. Not surprising. So, he spun around focusing back on his own work.

An hour must have passed. Another agonizing hour with no progress or improvements to show for it.

What fun.

You leaned back in your chair, looking up at the high vaulted ceiling. Crossing your arms, you let out a disappointed sigh.

One act - one simple sigh - and Miguel had to suppress a groan. He was instantly overwhelmed by the sweet mint. He dug his fingers into the edges of his desk. The desk creaked under such strength. His talons definitely made small dents as he desperately held himself back. It was all so enticing. He wanted to taste you, and his body craved you.

Oblivious to Miguel’s struggle, you allowed your thoughts to consume you. Some were important - like the multiple ideas to seal the leaking portals issue to possible new ways to improve Spider Society in general - to the completely irrelevant - such as a song stuck in your head from this morning, thoughts about what to have for dinner, to the more perverse ones about a certain hot headed spider. Thoughts about anything and everything, but not about what Miguel asked of you. No, that one thing had been quickly brushed aside and forgotten: don’t blow any more bubbles.

Your tongue was already going through the habit, a muscle memory at this point. You flattened out the surprisingly still minty gum, rolling over it a few times. Moving it around, you pressed the now stretched piece of gum to your teeth. And without a care or sparing a second thought, you blew.

The small pop was quite deafening in the silent, vast room. So much, it reverberated and echoed just a bit. Almost cartoonishly so.

You instantly flinched in your seat. You almost didn’t dare look over at him. His wrath already emanated from him in waves. Slowly peering over, more so out of curiosity, all you saw was Miguel’s back. His muscles were wrought in tight agitated nerves. You hissed through your teeth and sheepishly mumbled, “Sorry.”

Miguel exhaled loudly, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “God, can’t you do the one thing I asked of you?”

The main problem of Miguel O’Hara was that his anger was infectious. Your embarrassment, and regret, vanished instantaneously. His snide comment set a fire inside of you.

Pop.

Miguel whipped his head around. You leaned causally back in your chair with a bored expression. You cocked an eyebrow and blew another bubble in his direction.

His eyes widened, the gall of you. He stepped down from his desk area, and marched over to you. His eyes burned with a firey irritation. You should be intimidated - and admittedly you were. However, you wouldn’t outwardly show it. He grabbed the back of your swivel chair and whirled you around. He bent down. His hands landed on the armrests, caging you in and looming over you threateningly. “Spit it out.”

You popped another bubble. “No.”

A waft of mint filled his nose. He gritted his teeth. “Spit it out,” he repeated, seething in anger.

You puckered your lips. You didn’t answer. Miguel thought you had finally come to your senses at least.

Nope. He was wrong.

Your lips parted. The pale blue gum was stretched over your tongue. Pressing it to your teeth, you blew. The pop echoed louder than all the others before, or it seemed like it did. A bit of gum stuck to your lip, but you quickly licked it away.

Miguel twitched.

He reached out, grabbing your face and smushing your cheeks. His talons started to dig into your cheeks. You thought he was going to force you to spit it out. You tucked the gum in the back corner of your mouth, then glared ferociously up at him. You tried to jerk your head out of his grasp, but he kept you firmly in place.

He leaned in. His crimson eyes burned brightly. You expected more heated words, calling you such things like childish or immature. Hell, for a brief second, you expected him to reach inside of your mouth. But, he surprised you.

His lips collided with yours.

You inhaled sharply, eyes going wide.

Yet, he did not falter.

Oh, he had you now, and he was ready to devour you. He wanted you. His teeth - his fangs - grazed over your bottom lip. You shivered, and piece by piece you leaned more and more into the kiss. Your resolve, and confusion, melted away. Your eyes fluttered close, thoroughly enjoying this strange turn of events.

Why? Why was this happening … why do I care? Enjoy it.

His hand moved and wrapped around the back of your neck. Tugging on the edges of your hair, he tipped your head back further. He deepened the kiss. His tongue skimmed by, begging for entrance. You happily, almost too eagerly, obliged. Humming pleased, his tongue slipped inside and swirled around. You reached out, bunching up the front of his suit. A moan rumbled in the back of your throat.

And he swallowed it up.

Fuck.

His tongue explored, tasted, and continuously drew out such desires. Your thoughts seized, and your skin ignited with passion. His lips were the gasoline to a small kindling fire inside of you. You were set ablaze. Your heart pounded in your ears, nearly drowning out the sensual noises of him attacking your lips. Your body burned hotter and hotter with each passing second. You were aching for him. To be fair, you always did. But, you never thought the day would come. And you never expected for him to make the first move.

It was too much, and somehow not enough.

Unfortunately, this bizzare dream ended. He pulled away, breaking the kiss. You whined very faintly.

Why? Why did it have to end?

Opening your eyes, you saw a thin trail of spit connecting to his lips from yours. He easily wiped it away with his tongue. You shivered. His eyes shone with such amusement. He greatly enjoyed the effect he had on you. You were breathing heavily, gasping for air. Your whole body slouched forward, drooped with the desire he brought out.

Why? What -

Miguel then smirked mischievously. Ever so slowly, he parted his lips, revealing a piece of gum nestled between his front teeth. You blinked, a jolt ran down your spine. No. Your tongue searched your mouth. Oh yes indeed, that was your gum.

Your eyes widened.

He turned his head, spitting it out in the nearby waste bin.

“Next time,” he began and bent back down to your level. His eyes dropped to your swollen, abused lips. Smirking, he teasingly wiped the corner of your mouth with his thumb. He gently held your chin, tipping it up. Leaning in, he whispered to your lips, “Listen.”

Your mouth just hung agape in stunned silence.

“Now, get back to work.” He let his fingers trail along your jaw, before heading back to his desk.

He was utterly satisfied with the outcome, and pleased to think he made his point perfectly clear. You, on the other hand, made a mental note to always carry a pack of gum on you at all times from now on.

A point was made, just not one Miguel had hoped.

[elodieunderglass]

Mad Spring - sour gummies, you feral little goblin. Tangfastics. Airheads. Sour Patch Kids. Like High Summer, you choose fruit-flavored gummy sweets, but you pick ones coated in Pain Sugar. It isn’t enough to just get sugar: you’re chasing a different Sensory Experience (TM) than the rest. And that’s great.

Warm Spring - white chocolate, ruby chocolate, pastel mint drops, cotton candy, bubblegum. Marshmallows. Sweet, creamy, usually pastel. You have no particular objection to floral tastes like lavender and rose. You may be able to appreciate Turkish Delight.

Midsummer - tropical fruits: chewy and slightly creamy in pastel colors. Starburst/Opal Fruit, Creamsicles/Solero. Maoam strips. Cream sodas. Skittles, despite being jewel-toned, are in this season. Coconut and pineapple flavors go here. Also the home of chalky-type sweets like Love Hearts/candy hearts, smarties (usa) and You may be also able to appreciate Turkish Delight.

High Summer - Gummy bears and chewy, jellyish, jammy, gummy, springy in bright jewel tones. Gummy worms and jelly snakes, jelly babies, jelly beans, Haribo. Clearer and gummier than Midsummer.

Autumn Night - darker and more complex sweetness, often including an element of burning or alcohol, or another challenge. Cherry cordials, marzipan, champagne truffles. Also home of burnt-sugar tastes: maple candy, bonfire toffee, candy corn. Also home of matcha; red liquorice; red bean paste. When people bring you sweets from other countries, they’ll choose unusual local delicacies. You almost certainly were fascinated as a kid by lollipops at the science museum sold with real bugs in them.

Autumn Salt - peanut butter and peanut brittle, salted caramel, toffee, butterscotch. Toffee popcorn, Reese’s Peanut Butter cups, Snickers, Daim. If nobody has any nuts, you’ll choose chocolate with nuts, crisp or crunch over other things. Sweet just isn’t enough.

Winter Spice - herbal, spicy and medicinal sweets, usually hard old-fashioned sweets. Red-hots, burning cinnamon, chilli - eucalyptus, root beer, menthol; sarsaparilla. Hard candy, generally: old fashioned ‘boiled sweets,’ things that look gorgeous in glass jars. Parma violets. Fisherman’s Friends. You’re the only person who would eat a gingerbread house after decorating it. You’re also possibly a ghost, or used to be a Mad Spring. It’s also about the SENSATION.

Midwinter - dark black Licorice. Salty? Sweet? saltlakrids? Allsorts? Australian? You might like other things too, but when your loved ones are in another country, they go to the licorice aisle and get you the weirdest local variant they can find.

Long Winter - true chocolate, basic chocolate stuff: M&Ms. Dairy Milk. Hershey’s Kiss. But also home of fudgy tastes and sugar-on-sugar in a long slow sauce. Marshmallow, Handmade fudge, Phish Food ice cream.

Cool Winter - naturally, the homebase of minty tastes. peppermint wheels, York’s Peppermint Patties, After Eights. Also orange - chocolate orange - and, oddly, pixie sticks/sherbet and other sweet things that involve eating simple flavored sugar.

[haruhar-u]

well better than the alternative

reupload Vil & Reader

taglist(again I don’t fully remember it from the other blog so if you don’t want to be tagged lmk) : @xen-blank @cheezy-moon @silvers-numberonefan @krenenbaker @edith-is-apparently-a-cat @minty-bubblegum

You gently applied the polysporin to the cotton swap. You were surprised that the Vil Schoenheit himself asked you to help him after his overblot. You were even more surprised he let anyone see him like this. His skin was sickly pale, his hair was greasy and he hadn't done his skincare routine for days. You still shudder when you think about that forsaken day. You were just the manager for NRC during the VDC yet, you got dragged into another overblot. “Try not to flinch.” You lean over to his bedside to attempt to clean the wounds he sustained. 

You notice his muscles tense up as you apply the rubbing alcohol covered swab to his cheek. “Hurts? Well..That's better than the alternative of you being dead.”

“Do you think you could play along with me? Would that be alright with you?” He asks you. Well, this was a side of Vil you don’t often get to see. It also wasn’t one you were used to. Vil’s usually confident, a caregiver, strict yet he still cares. In a good way. Overblot recovery seems painful based on what you saw with well, the other 4. 

“Play along?” You tilt your head confused. 

“To the media…This never happened. Or else my career is done for.” You can tell he felt guilty about what happened with Neige too. The blonde let out a sigh, “Sweet potato, could you tell me what's wrong with me? I should’ve kept my cool. I shouldn’t have-”

“Vil, envy’s a bitch to deal with. I’m not condoning your actions, however.. As far as the media knows you’re just sick with a bad cold right now. ” You reassure him, while reorganizing the get well soon cards and mementos sent from the rest of Pomefiore + the scarabia vice and housewarden on the bed side table.

Then he mutters something that catches you off guard, “Could you tell me if I’m still pretty?” But when you’re about to answer you notice he’s asleep now. He looks so peaceful. Almost like a sleeping kitten. Best not wake him. He deserves it