#writings ���࣭⚝⭒

[kisses4kaia]

mdni. 18+ content. another installment of this au.

college!luke castellan doesn’t care about hickies.

of course, his frat brothers tease them relentlessly, but he does nothing to rebate the suggestions from most that they were from you. it wasn’t any secret that you and him had been fucking—casually, of course, he didn’t have time for relationships—for some time now, but it always left you a little jarred when he would be so open to the display of red bites left splayed on his neck.

“won’t they see?” you ask a bit dumbly after luke asks you to mark him through passionate kisses. rudely—your friends thought—he’d pulled you away from the dining hall with no explanation other than ‘needing you’.

“what?” he says, slightly breathless from kissing. the question had taken him aback because, had he not made it clear by now?

“won’t your friends see the… you know?” the sheepish tone in your voice elicits a deep chuckle from luke before he presses his lips against your neck, not hard enough to create hickies just yet, but not exactly gently either. “you want the truth, princess?” your eyebrows furrow a little dumbly but you nod with curiosity. “i think you love seeing ‘em on me, and you love when people know they’re from you,” he says. “and you know i don’t care if anyone sees. i know you know me better than that, don’t you, baby?” luke’s timbre is so low, so arousing and you can hardly keep the needy whimper in.

you just nod, no more doubt within you as you trail kisses down his scar, to his jaw, down to his neck and collarbone. the satisfied groans you elicit from him as you find that spot on his throat sends you in a daze almost immediately. his lips catch yours again before he flips the both of you over, settling on his knees in front of you.

luke’s mouth is everywhere, nibbing at the surface of your skin, laving his tongue over the fresh ache. his strong hands pulling your shorts and panties down in one go. “gonna mark you here,” he says, catching the plush flesh of your inner thigh between his teeth, sucking on the area and conjuring a livid stain on your skin.

he forges more and more red marks onto your skin before he finally puts his mouth on your neediest place. luke’s suctions his lips around your clit, forcing a choked gasp from you and a hand flying down onto his head. he groans against you as your back arches and your fingers tangle in his hair, tightening and tugging. he works hard, like he’s being paid to eat you out, but really, he knows he would pay to die between your thighs.

just as luke’s tongue pushes it’s way into your sopping hole, you feel that blissfully hot, white, sensation swim over and past you. your thighs are most likely suffocating luke, but he doesn’t seem to mind, or even notice really.

his tongue fucks you through your orgasm, and upon coming down from your high, luke’s head rises from your middle.

“we’re still casual, though?”

[lilacpaperbird]

in the supernatural that exists in my mind, the fact that sam and dean were created as the perfect vessels of the devil and an archangel makes them not totally human. there's a residual darkness and light inside them, respectively. sam especially so, after being fed demon's blood when he was a baby. it just comes up in tiny subtle ways so no one realizes there's something wrong with them

sam's ears always ring when he prays (he thinks it's a sign god is listening). rosaries feel peculiarly warm in his hands but he holds them tight anyway. chanting exorcisms leaves him lightheaded. he brittles any plant under his care no matter how many botanical books he reads. john jokes about how his weird drawings used to scare his preschool teachers but sam has no memory of making them. being inside devil's traps feels a bit like walking through water. he has always had a talent for making people and animals trust him, follow him - entranced like moths to a flame

dean on the other hand... there's an aura around him. he shines from within. people can feel it even if they can't put their finger on why he's just so charming. he wonders why he feels almost sleepy whenever he enters a church, he dislikes being so calm and unguarded. he unknowingly interferes with certain technology and makes it malfunction, like an overvoltage. babies love him but animals seem restless in his presence. when he's taking care of a wounded or ill person they heal a little bit faster but no one notices. reading enochian out loud gives him goosebumps. he thinks holy water tastes really good to everyone else too

[aleixis]

₊ ⊹ ๋࣭⭑ good luck charm

0.7k words

fluff probably ooc sae shidou mention !

one of the most meaningful gifts you ever gave sae were two bracelets–if you could even call them that. they were two bands–one black and one white–that could be slipped on and off easily. you wanted to give him something that was convenient for him to wear, as he was a busy soccer player.

you had your own pairs as well, also black and white. you decided to gift them the night before a decisive match between Re Al and Barcha.

“sae, can i give you something? it’s kind of like a good luck charm…” you asked softly. sae looked up from his book, giving you a curious look.

he hummed in response, intrigued. “mm, sure.”

you reached towards to table next to you, in your hands a small drawstring bag. “i was out a couple of days ago and bought these matching bracelets,” you said, opening the bag.

you reached in, fishing them out. “i don’t know if you’ll like them, but uh– i made sure they’d be convenient for you to wear. and um– i didn’t know if you’d like black or white, so i got you both…” you trailed off.

you handed him the bracelets, letting sae pick. he examined both the black and white pairs before answering, “we can just wear both colors?”

sae watched your eyes light up, your head nodding. he held the black and white bracelets before sliding them onto his right wrist. you tried them on as well, the material comfortable on your skin.

“thank you, dear,” he said, a small smile peeking through. “i’m sure i’ll play well tomorrow, thanks to these.”

you giggle at his response, “you always play well, sae.”

1 minute and 17 seconds left until the referee’s whistle blows, and the match is over. 1 minute and 17 seconds left to turn a tie of 3-3 to a win of 4-3. you sit on the stands, a seat close to the field, your body jittery with anticipation. Barcha is still in possession of the ball, and time is ticking down.

you can tell by the look on his face that sae is fiending for a goal. luckily enough, sae’s teammate guards the opposing player, successfully stealing the ball away. the ball is then passed to sae swiftly, and he controls the ball with skill.

sae turns, his pace quickening. with only 45 seconds left on the clock, and being close enough to the penalty box, he takes a shot, the ball forming an extraordinary arch in the air. the goal occurs at an insane angle, one only itoshi sae could pull off.

the crowd breaks into cheers, and the whistle signifing the end of the match blows moments after. sae’s teammates pile on top of him before he can push them all off, cheering for him.

sae never has celebrations for a goal, but this time, he raises his right arm and looks up at the stands to you, smiling brightly. the bracelets seem to reflect the fluorescent lights of the stadium, twinkling.

you smile back at sae and wave, your two bracelets peeking out.

bonus content !

after a long day of practice, sae’s jersey sticks to his skin uncomfortably, the stuffy atmosphere of the locker room not improving his mood. with his body drenched in sweat, all he wants is to take a shower and go home back to you. he’s quick with changing out of his jersey, pulling his shirt and sweats back on. his bracelets are on the bench behind him, resting on top of his backpack.

shidou walks into the locker room last, opening up his locker that was conveniently assigned next to sae’s. shidou glances back at the bench before asking, “yo, sae. i’ve always meant to ask, but what’s with those bracelets? they from your girl or what?”

sae replies snarkily, “piss off. it’s none of your business, roach.” he reaches behind and gently slides the bracelets back onto his wrist before slamming his locker door shut.

shidou laughs in response, “hey, no need to get all defensive! guess i was right, huh?”

sae doesn’t respond, though his ears are tinged with pink. he packs up as quickly as he can before trudging out the locker room with his backpack and gear slung over his shoulder, ignoring shidou’s obnoxious teasing.

happy birthday to the one and only itoshi sae !! i rly hope sae wasn’t too ooc ( first time writin for him !! ) & i hope the match wasn’t too boring jsjhshj,,, apparently,, Re Al and Barcha are rivaling teams, and even tho i’m a Barcha fan thru n thru, i had to make Re Al win this one </3 hehe as always thank u all for reading this far & have a great day/night !! i luv u babies ^.^

tags : @egoistars @laughingfcx

[harmonysanreads]

just a thought but smth LAUGHABLY funny is a very bitter neuvillette. since he’s in a very high position of power, his words might even be law itself atp, so imagine him as your loser bitter ex.

trying to execute this can be silly—bc who’s willing to go that far to spite someone’s ex? neuvillette probably would. bc you see: he cherished you so much. he was willing to grovel for you, disregarding his status and his character. you’ve seen it all, him breaking his cold mask. beneath it all, is just a very clingy and obsessive man. so once you left under the pretences of him being “too overbearing, it was suffocating you,” he let it go quite well. you thought he’d argue with you on it (as he would usually do) and even forbid you from leaving. but nay, you left him the next day with his head hung low and a look of defeat shadowing his face. it felt like mutual acceptance for both parts, it was hard of course, but at least you were glad neuvillette didn’t react harshly against you.

give it a month, not too long, until you realise that you’ve been laid off. quite harshly. you had a pretty stable job with good income. suddenly your boss sends you a letter one day out of the blue. your boss says you’ve been fired. why? you asked. didn’t say much. ok, maybe it’s time to go find another job. you do, only to end up being turned away from every single one you’ve applied to. have you been blacklisted? what did you do exactly for the entirety of fontaine to completely shun you away?

you’re low-key struggling with your income. the place you were staying at, you’re on the verge of being kicked out because you’re behind payments. you might as well flee this city altogether, but you really don’t want to give up since you’ve lived your whole life here. you keep on pursuing, finding any place willing to take you in. unsurprisingly, you’ve met a dead end. you’re teetering the edge of snapping so you wonder, has it something to do with your records? because as far as you know, you once had a good job that you got all by yourself due to you track record and lists of achievements. not a single blemish, you think, is on your track record. you were once well respected and regarded by peers and acquaintances alike, but now? you are nothing but a mere ghost to them, completely forgotten. so after much contemplation, you’re seizing to get your hands on your papers and records. were you that unqualified?

until one day, your questions were answered. there was a loud knock coming from your door. it was your last week living at your house, so when you opened the door to welcome the government officials at your doorsteps, they eyed boxes behind you. the space behind you was barren and it did not feel like a home anymore. there’s a sullen look on your face, so with a sympathetic sigh the man in front of you stated his reason for coming here. “we have a warrant out for your arrest.”

it rushes out like a wave that smothers you. a warrant? you haven’t done anything unlawful, you’re sure of it. but now as you bask in this dreadful situation, is that why your life has slowly fallen apart? there’s no way, no way that’s true. what crime did you commit? did you do something awfully criminal or something completely small that the laws of fontaine has harshly persecuted you for? fontaine has always been strict in that regard. “what for?” you ask, it sounded like you had an entire list of crimes you were hiding, yet you had a look of genuine surprise and confusion. “multiple, actually.” the man responds. ok, now this is getting really weird. he asks if you’re willing to come with them for questioning, maybe discuss about it more thoroughly, perhaps it can answer some of the questions frantically falling out of your mouth.

you come with them, under arrest currently, as they have you transported to some kind of holding room. you’re now scared shitless, wondering what possibly could you have done wrong. you’re praying to archons that this was all just a dream. you’re life was already going to shit, but now? you’ve completely reached your breaking point. all in a span of a few months where you were laid off without any explanation, blacklisted from every place apparently, and as of last week you were packing up your things to leave your home without even knowing where to go. now, you just found out you had not one, but MULTIPLE warrants. you started laughing, quite uncomfortably, at yourself the more you pondered. the echo of your lonely laughs laughed back at you as you stared across a wall as it all slowly melted into a choked sob. what were you going to do now?

before you could sit in silent reflection any longer, the door next to you creaked open. you turn to look at who it was, expecting to see an investigator or maybe even a lawyer, but your face fell the moment you saw who it was.

neuvillette. that bastard.

he enters and sits in front of you, with a proposition that makes your stomach twists and turn. he’s made your life a complete hell and now he saunters his power and hold against you, painting it as a guiding light. he said, he’d help you against your warrants. perhaps even help you reconvene your entire life that has been shattered. it sounds a little too good to be true and it was happening all to fast. your life fell apart the moment you left him. and now? you had a chance to pick it all back up. “so, what’s the catch?”

you really hated that look on his face when you asked. you only knew, you’d be trapped regardless of the choice you make wether to accept his offer or not.

(if i ever return in the future: can i be 🗽 anon?)

Just a thought???? 🗽anon THIS IS A FULL-COURSE MEAL, A BANQUET.

But what you despised more was how it made you feel, that curve of his lips was uncharacteristic— if you were being generous in your description— and malicious if you were not. It made you feel as though you were thrown into the ocean without any experience of swimming, it sent the twirling of your thoughts askew and the air stolen from your lungs.

“Why, you'll have to be mine again. No second chances, no excuses, no backing out.” Neuvillette shifts in his seat, inching just the right bit closer to your increasingly distressed form.

“...Of course, of course! Why didn't I think it sooner? This was all your doing, you were behind it all! You—” it took all your willpower to not take advantage of the distance and commit something that'd actually earn you a cell in Fontaine's jail, hand settling on jabbing a finger at the judge's chest to rid your rage even in the slight.

You're unsure of what your visage has contorted to, your restless eyes search his for a reflection, blurred emotions stare back at you. Your body trembles as the dots connect, a touch of silk transferred across your whole palm as it fists against his ribbon. For a moment, you vacillate between who to be angry at ; him, the corrupt world or you. If the universe had at least sent a sign a month prior, your litany of curses could've been directed at the culprit instead of your fate.

“I should've known you were up to something when you didn't retaliate, when you just let me go like that, I should've...I..”

At this instance, vehement words threaten to spill from your lips as well but a fraction of what remains of your sanity makes you hold your tongue as the gravity of your situation settles in, only a croaked why escaping past your throat. It must've been pitiful, because Neuvillette's smirk falters and straightens into a thin line. One gloved hand takes a tentative hold of your wrist still clinging to his clothes and you hate how familiar his touch feels.

“Do you wish to know why?”

The offer entices your head to rise again, you take a shaky inhale and the Chief Justice proceeds according to the cue.

“Because I love you.”

One of the lamps illuminating the room flickers off, that little sound bounces off of the walls and fills the deathly quiet momentarily. Fury turns to confusion and then disbelief. Your fingers slacken and this time, his hand tightens around your wrist.

“You're insane.”

Neuvillette's head tilts in inquisition, a wordless encouragement for you to continue.

“You abused your power, had me fired and blacklisted from all the working environments of Fontaine, soiled my reputation and attached false crimes to my name.. because you love me?”

Your free arm reaches for the judge's collar and yanks him closer, a grunt escapes him but he makes no further move and it unsettles you. For such an offensive action, you'd expected a nasty glare at the very least ; while that would've been scary, it'd still make more sense than the neutral expression on his fair face.

“Yes, is this not what is common? You told me yourself that you do everything within your power to hold onto the person you love.” his nonchalant answer has you let go of the fabric hastily, backing away as though you were faced with an alien instead of a man. Neuvillette never relinquishes his hold but a sigh does escape him at your behavior, a somewhat normal reaction at last.

“I once praised your stubbornness as your biggest strength but do you not see that at this moment, it's your greatest weakness? It's holding you back from rewinding everything.” the judge leans in and you lean away til your back hits the seat, he pins you by your wrist.

“I promise all will be resolved, no one in the entirety of this nation will utter a word about this, everyone will behave as though nothing happened, that this was just a tiny lovers' quarrel. All you have to do is say yes.” Neuvillette's white locks tickle your skin, his voice turns hushed in utmost secrecy and his breath fans the heat blossoming across your neck.

You want to push him away, you want to recoil from his proximity and you want the earth to split open and swallow you whole. His free hand takes your chin and forces you to face the tempest brewing in his eyes, the intensity pushes you to break and to comply — you don't want to comply or to say yes. Because you know what happens if you do, it's the exact suggestion he'd whispered before your engagement but it was different then. Back then, you'd known you could back out and that's why you'd been worriless. You could deny him now as per your sheer pertinacity as well, but Neuvillette makes it clear that all that'd do is making the path to the inevitable more painful.

After all, the waves never offer consolation to the ruined sand-castle, they only wait until they can destroy it again.

[sturnina]

Jealousy

Chris Sturniolo x Fem!reader

— tags;; mentions of a physical fight & injury, injury tending, fighting, pet name (baby), no use of yn, toxic habits (overprotectiveness)

— wc;; 1282

— author‘s note;; my take on overprotectiveness since i hate the „touch her and you die“ trope, hope you enjoy <3

He did it again.

You don‘t know how to feel as you silently drive home, Chris in the passenger seat, seemingly oblivious to the storm raging in your mind.

He did it again. He hit a guy just because he looked at you weirdly.

Don‘t get me wrong, you love his protective side. It is hot, honestly. The way he always makes sure everyone knows you‘re his girl, the way his arm sneaks around your waist at parties, the way he gets rid of other boys trying to flirt with you.

But this… this wasn‘t protective, this was violent. He hit a guy, for the second time this week. The second time in four days.

Yes, the guy was rude and obnoxious. Yes, you felt uncomfortable around him. Yes, you were relieved when Chris came to your help after the guy wouldn‘t listen to your No’s.

But Chris‘s punch, it wasn‘t protective. It was violent, brutal, merciless. And of course, the guy hit him back, right on his cheek.

When you glance to your right, you can see the dark patch forming on your boyfriend‘s cheekbone.

You arrive home — your house, not the triplets‘ —, and you go to fetch the first aid kit immediately after entering through the front door. Chris trails in behind you, unbothered by his split lip and bruised cheek.

He just sits down at the kitchen table, knowing you will take care of him. Expecting you to.

You take an ice pack out of the refrigerator and settle down next to Chris, all in complete silence. You can‘t bear to hear his voice now, or your own. You‘re afraid it might give your thoughts away. And your eyes, your eyes will surely betray you, so you keep them focused on the ice, the bruise, your hand, anything but Chris‘s eyes. That he is looking at you constantly isn‘t helping.

But eventually, he picks up on your uncharacteristically silent behaviour.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Everything alright?”

You swallow thickly, knowing your voice will give in the second you try to speak. So you remain silent. For exactly three seconds, dabbing a cotton pad at his split lip, before Chris speaks again.

“That dick won‘t bother you anymore.”

Of course, he thinks that‘s the problem. Of course.

“That‘s not what I‘m worried about,” you mutter, stoically keeping your eyes on his injuries.

“You‘re worried about me? Oh, baby, you know I can take care of myself,“ Chris says warmly.

“That’s not… I am worried about you, Chris. You need to stop this. But-”

“Baby, you know I won‘t,“ he mutters, slowly tilting your chin up with the hand that isn‘t holding the ice pack. “Those pricks deserve it.“

“Besides the fact that no one deserves to get beat up, that‘s not what I mean,“ you say, pulling away from him. “You need to stop or you‘ll end up in serious trouble.“

“I won‘t,“ he says softly. “I promise. I just want to teach them a lesson-”

“You‘re not listening to me, Chris!”

“What are you talking about, of course I‘m listening to you,“ he says, his brows furrowing.

“No you‘re not,“ you scoff. “I see the way you look at the guys you‘re going to hit. I‘m not blind. I can see that you want it.“

“Of course I want it,“ Chris says, laying a hand on your arm. “I need to protect my girl-”

“That‘s not what I mean, and we both know it,“ you snap, quickly closing your mouth and taking a deep breath. “I am just an excuse. Don‘t deny it!“

He already opened his mouth but closes it again, worry and confusion clouding his gaze. “Baby-”

“No. Listen to me,“ you interrupt him, trying to keep your tone calm. “You like the confrontation, don‘t you? The adrenaline? But you can‘t see… You don‘t see the way it‘s hurting me.“

Chris‘s expression falters for a moment. “I don‘t- what are you- what do you mean? I don‘t understand…“ he stutters.

“No, you don‘t,“ you say softly, pulling your arm out of his grip and standing up to bring more distance between you.

He really doesn‘t. He doesn‘t understand the way your heart clenches every time a guy even just glances at you in public. He doesn’t understand the way your thoughts start racing even when someone is just walking in your direction. He doesn‘t understand the way you‘re terrified of talking to anyone while out with him — out of fear to trigger his jealousy.

The air feels thick as you look at his expression, his desperate eyes, the bruise on his cheek and his still-bleeding lip.

“Explain it to me,“ he says, “please, what am I doing wrong?“

“You don‘t see the way you‘re hurting me, hurting everyone around you,“ you whisper, your voice just as thick now. The words feel like they‘re stuck in your throat and you have to force yourself to speak them. „I hate seeing people hurt, especially you. I hate seeing you get hurt, and knowing- knowing that it‘s because of me.“

“That‘s not true, baby, I‘m-”

“Please, Chris,“ you whisper, tears collecting in your eyes, “Please let me finish. I hate avoiding to go- to go out in public with you just because I can‘t… I can‘t trust you not to lash out at someone, I hate b-being scared every time someone looks at me or talks to me, I- I just… I hate seeing you angry, I hate seeing you violent, I hate seeing you like that… And yet you- you keep doing it, n-no matter how o-often I ask you to stop…“ Your throat is clogged, your breaths are laboured, your eyes are watering, and you physically can‘t speak anymore, the words having drained out of your head. But there is one sentence left, one you‘re terrified to even think.

And Chris is just standing there, the words burning in his mind, on his skin, digging into his flesh while he tries not to rush to hug you because he knows, he knows it wouldn‘t help. And then he feels the tears running down his face, and the pain ripping through his chest. You don‘t trust him. You can‘t trust him, you said it yourself. You‘re scared of him.

Fists clenching at his sides, he lets that sink in. Everything he‘s done for you, everything he thought he‘s done for you, crumbles under the heavy weight of reality, the realisation that he‘s been hurting you all along.

He steps forward, raises his arms, and sees the way you cross your arms. A shielding gesture. Chris thinks he can hear his heart finally shatter at that, after slowly cracking over the entire conversation.

There are no words he can use to explain himself. He knows he should apologise. But how do you apologise after terrifying your girl over and over again without even noticing? What words are there to express the mixture of frustration, fear, and self-hatred he‘s feeling against himself?

Chris drops his arms to his sides.

He turns around, and leaves.

And you are left alone. The front door slams closed, but you don‘t even flinch. Your mind is full, and so are your eyes, your ears, everything is clogged with memories, everything is breaking inside you, but you are relieved.

You are relieved, because how could you bear his overwhelming presence any longer, with one last question, one last sentence burning on your mind, a question you can‘t ignore but also can‘t speak, not in front of him?

How can you be sure he will never lash out at you? How can you be sure that you will never be on the receiving end of his fist?

masterlist

[stella-soulaan]

[sirenedeslily]

the way this app went from having the sweetest people to now having some of the meanest ppl is crazy like y’all are really mean

[lightshcwer]

open to: all, 21+ plot: based on this post but lea is terrified skeptical as hell and is pretty much just indulging your muse. character: azalea palmer ⚬ twenty-eight, questioning, self-employed artist, touch-averse @indiestarter

an abandoned, possibly haunted building wasn't where azalea had intended to spend her night, but it seemed like fate had other plans for her. she tried to go with the flow for once instead of being bossy and look where that had landed her! she managed to get talked into following along. hell, it could be funny, she thought at the time. but when she heard distinct knocking close by, she regretted it sorely. "ooookaaaaay, so, unless this is some sort of elaborate prank you're pulling on me, i believe this-", she pointed in the vague direction of the knocking, "is our cue to leave. i've watched too many horror movies to not know what happens if we decide to stick around and ignore this clear warning!" her tone was playful, but there was a distinctive gleam of unease in her eyes. she rose from where she'd been sitting and gathered her things; she had no intentions of even giving your muse a chance to convince her again. in fact, she was done listening to them for a while, she'd just decided. that is, if they both managed to make it out of here alive.

[goodomensfangirl72]

𓆩⚝𓆪 Thoughts I had this morning 𓆩⚝𓆪

I LOVE THIS LITTLE GOOBER SO MUCH (I just started watching Villainous 3 hours ago)

[shinichirosgirl]

peace and calm

felt like writing for shinichiro again

It was one of those late October days when the colours flare up once more before they finally fade away - one of those days when you think you can feel a last memory of summer, even though sweaters and corduroy pants have long since populated the streets.

Far from all turbulences of the city, at the shore, the wind was rougher. Invisible fingers pulling at the strands of your hair, ruining every attempt to keep your [frisur] in check. In a calm rhythm wave clashed against land, always taking something with them into the broad sea. Occasionally a car passed by, but none of them would ever stop in a secluded place like this. The idyllic peace was never interrupted so you were alone with the rush of the sea in your ears, the prickled of the last sunrays of the day on your skin and your thoughts in your mind.    

You were used to this, willingly allowed you to be surrounded by peacefulness and nothing alike. What you were not used to was the faint smell of cigarettes which tickled your nose, a sensation unfitting for this setting. Drawn by curiosity your head turned to the side, away from the scenery towards a young boy. Not much further away leaned his frame against his bike. Contrary to the never resting waves and the moving leaves he stood tall and proud, his eyes closed.

Another lone soul seeking for a moment of quiet peace, you figured. This place was your favorite spot but not once did you spot other people. What brought him here? You wondered.

Suddenly he opened his eyes and his black orbs met yours. Abashed your head whipped to the side too fast. Your gaze starred holes into the ocean in a weakly attempt to hide that you had been starring a bit too long.  

“It’s nice here, right?”, a deep voice startled you and made you jump. You heard him chuckle and a breathy “sorry” was heard as he sat down next to you. A polite distance between you. His cigarette fell to the ground and with enough pressure from his foot the little glimmer died. When did he went over to you?

When he opened his mouth to speak you were about to interrupt him, tried to keep the silence for a moment longer but with his first words his voice lured you away from your thoughts and put you on a journey to the unknown.

At the start your mind didn't register his words, instead fell your gaze onto his features. Brighter than the sun was his sheepish smile, his eyes were darker than the night, but it wasn’t uncomfortable or scary. With the sun going down he talked you through the night into a world lit up by moon and stars and for the first time, you thought, you understood what the words peace and calm truly meant.

likes and reblogs appreciated ♡

[scnderlands]

I hate that it feels so hard to write smut now, idk why it’s just I never know how to write or describe it anymore 😭

[kisses4kaia]

he shouldn’t like it this much.

that’s all patrick is thinking as art’s warm, unsure mouth works its way onto his painfully hard cock. your voice coos in art’s reddened ear, manicured hand tugging and swirling his blonde curls. you’re guiding him, teaching him how to open up his throat and take all 8 inches of patrick.

art’s tongue slides over patrick’s weeping tip, causing the brunette to squirm and nearly growl. you see patrick’s hand twitch on the chair’s wooden arm, and he hears you ask something out of earshot to the blonde boy. he’s hesitant for a moment before he nods, letting you peel patrick’s calloused hand off of the arm and place in on art’s head. naturally—instinctively—patrick’s hand twists and pulls on the golden tresses.

“go ahead and lick from the base to the top, yeah, good. he likes that, angel,” you’re scratching the nape of art’s neck with one hand and patrick’s muscly thigh with the other, both parties being grateful for the extra stimulation.

he shouldn’t like it this much. he shouldn’t be this close to cumming. this is wrong, and he knows it. he has tashi and you have art and this is all wrong; but the taboo of it all just makes him hotter and hotter hotter—and now he’s cumming down arts throat without warning.

he doesn’t even realize how far and hard he’s slammed his friends head down onto him, choked gasps and pleads weaving with his squirming thighs and your nipping on his chest and neck. patrick only realizes what he’s done when his best friend looks prettier than he’s ever looked with tears in his eyes and his cum dribbling from his pink lips. he wanted to push him onto his chest and make him sob, let you watch, if you wanted—tashi, too.

he shook the thoughts away as he wiped the spend from art’s lip and stuck it into his own mouth, making eye contact with you.

and when it’s all over, your praises don’t ever end, only after you’ve all bathed and patrick’s been dropped off back home to an unsuspecting tashi and art falls asleep on your chest do you let your voice go out.

you think you’ll invite your favorite brunette lady next time, for you felt rather lonely with your two boys.

[lilacpaperbird]

When John came back from a two-day hunt, he caught a glimpse of fresh scratches on Dean’s back while he was changing shirts — and he cuffed him on the side of the head. He had ordered Dean to stay with Sammy and not to step foot outside their motel room unless strictly necessary. John wasn't born yesterday; he knew what those scratches meant. And he got it, he had been eighteen too once. But wanting to fool around with some girl wasn't reason enough to disobey a direct order. Especially not this one, not now

John didn't mince his words, bone-tired disappointment shading his voice. Dean endured the scolding without offering a single word in his defense, frozen in place, looking at him like he had forgotten how to breathe

Behind John’s back, Sam quietly buried his shaky hands into the pockets of his hoodie — as if one single glance at them would reveal to his father the sin they carried

[aleixis]

— ᗩᑫᑌᗩᖇIᑎᑌᗰ ₊˚.༄

0.6k words

fluff   request   probably ooc rin   googled shark facts >:3   

when it comes to dates, rin prefers nice dinners at a restaurant or movies at home, not crowded areas. but you are you. you are his girlfriend, and anything you want to do, he’s willing to try once. but when you bring up how your friend gifted you two tickets to a local aquarium, and that it would be a waste to not go, rin hesitates.

though he could have told you to regift them, he knew that would disappoint you. he saw the amounts of shark and other marine merchandise in your room. hell, your room was themed like it was under the sea, and so was everything you owned. so, rin holds his tongue and smiles, agreeing that it would be a great idea. rin would much, much rather not walk around a fish exhibit with crowds upon crowds and running children squealing.

but, when he sees the sparkle of joy in your eye when you recognize a marine animal, the smile on your face widening as you excitedly list facts about the animal, rin can't help but feel warm inside.

“–and, rin! did you know that sharks actually feel like sandpaper?” you tell rin, your eyes glittery. rin hums in response and smiles, letting you go back to your rambling. you gaze at the penguins one last time before grabbing onto rin's hand and dragging walking with him towards the next exhibit.

as you two reach the next exhibit, you smile with giddiness.

"look, rin!! they have a touch tank set up– we can pet lemon sharks!" you run over to the tank, waving rin towards you. rin smiles, your excitement infecting him as well. you and rin listen to the aquarium worker's instructions carefully before settling your hands into the cold water, fingertips brushing against the rough skin of the lemon shark. you smile with giddiness, snapping some pictures that you'd post later.

"they do feel like sandpaper," rin offhandedly remarks. you turn your head towards rin, your eyes lighting up.

"how'd you know that!"

rin mumbles under his breath, "you told me just now, remember?"

you smile to yourself– you always knew rin would be listening to you, even if it didn't seem like he was.

the employee informed you, as well as the other children at the touch tank that their time was up, and to enjoy the rest of their day. rin handed you a paper towel from a dispenser nearby to dry your hands before enclosing them in his.

"where should we go next?" he asked. "there's a shark section nearby, do you wanna go there?"

you smile up at rin and swing your arm. "yeah! let's go!!"

rin holds your hand in his as he walks with you to the shark exhibits, stopping in front of the main tank and display of the aquarium. in the tank were multiple species of fish and other marine life, but the most eye-catching was the whale shark. your grip on rin's hand tightened, your smile widening.

"oh my god, rin! it's a whale shark! i didn't know they had them in here, look! it's so cool, right? look at the patterns on it's back, it's so pretty!" you exclaim excitedly, the familiar spark in your eyes reappearing.

rin feels a warmth in his chest blooming ever so slightly. he looks up in the same direction you are and remarks, "yeah, it is pretty."

you giggle at his response, like you always do. his gaze shifts from the swimming whale shark down to you, still admiring the shark.

"i think you're more prettier, though.”

bonus content !

"hey rin, where'd you get that keychain from?" charles asks innocently, pointing toward rin's sports bag. a small shark-shaped charm hung from his sports bag's zipper, staring back in all it's cute glory. rin scowls in response, snatching the bag from charles' view. unfortunately, he was one step too late.

"huh? keychain??"

"i bet it's matching with your girlfriend– you never have cutesy things."

"i wanna see! i wanna see!"

choruses of voices flooded the PXG locker rooms, all too invested in rin's keychain. he slams his locker and storms out, his face hot.

"shut it, you lukewarm bastards!"

tysm for the request nonnie hope u enjoyed this !! if u think the bonus part is too similar to the bonus part for my sae fic you'd be correct !!! i wanted to include a keychain part so that's why ^_^;; thank u for ur time reading and make sure to reblog comment & follow 4 more bangers :3 !! luv u all mwa <33

taglist : @why2277 @koffeekat @skullvgirl

[harmonysanreads]

The "darling being able to see Sunday's high-Fe social mask and avoids it" is so funny.

Because Sunday probably ends up thinking that you will be someone who he doesn't have to pretend around, he can be more free around you because you can see through him. I can even see the attraction being platonic at first before turning into something darker.

But because you can see through him, you know that there's something dangerous about him under that ethereal, beautiful appearance. There's no way you're getting yourself involved with that. Sunday simply wants someone he can be real around :')

But you keep on running away from him :')

-💅

[blkhcrt]

I'm not the biggest fan of the fact, rio did not interact with nicky, at least not until the time she'd given him ran out. I just don't like it. I can understand why she might have kept her distance, to give agatha all the time she could with her son without rio being there as a constant reminder of what is to come (though I'm sure that was always in the back of her mind. it just might have been easier without seeing rio.)

no..I want rio there..in nicky's life. he is her son as well. so rio was there with nicky as he grew. enjoying the time they had with him.