#CafeWriting

[theauthorsnetwork]

📚✨ Exploring Optimal Writing Environments: Unveiling the Best Spots for Productivity

Greetings, fellow writers! In the pursuit of literary excellence, identifying conducive writing environments is paramount. Whether you're a seasoned wordsmith or embarking on your literary journey, here are meticulously selected writing sanctuaries to stimulate your creative endeavors.

Café Chronicles ☕📝: Immerse yourself in a realm of words amid the ambient hum of coffee machines and the redolence of freshly brewed inspiration. Share your preferred local coffee establishment where words effortlessly flow with each sip.

Nature's Notebook 🌳🍃: Establish a connection with the great outdoors as you articulate your thoughts surrounded by rustling leaves and the melodious symphony of birdsong. What natural setting serves as your go-to, providing the perfect backdrop for uninhibited creativity?

Library Labyrinths 📚🧐: Lose yourself in the boundless shelves of knowledge at your community library. Share secluded corners or hidden gems where the fusion of silence and inspiration is most profound.

Urban Utopias 🏙️🚇: Thrive amidst the heartbeat of the city. Do you have a preferred urban oasis where the city's pulse harmonizes with your writing rhythm?

Home Sweet Writing Nook 🏡💻: Your personal writing sanctuary! Share insights into crafting the ultimate writing space at home, from ergonomic furniture to inspiring decor. What elements render your space uniquely conducive to creativity?

Remember to tag your favored spots and employ #WritingHaven to collectively explore new venues for literary expression. Let's foster a community where writers assist one another in discovering their ideal writing environment. Happy writing, everyone! 🚀📓

[skylarstark4826]

By the time Tsireya finally makes it back to her family’s marui after the battle, she feels like most of her energy had been extracted.

Her tears had since stopped, but the stains on her cheeks do nothing to hide her sorrow. Her hands tremble.

Tsireya had spent what felt like hours sitting next to Neteyam’s body. The boy, who had come so far in learning how to live and enjoy the life of the Metkayina, was dead.

She hadn’t been able to stop crying. She tried to wipe away the blood on his chest, and had closed his eyelids to let him rest.

Ao’nung says nothing when she stumbles into the Marui and practically collapses on her sleep mat. She knows that her father and mother will want to talk to her later—hopefully the following day, when she has had enough time to sleep—about what happened and how she was.

You disappoint me, daughter, she remembered her father saying, the words repeating in her mind. Would he be disappointed that she had gotten taken in the first place?

All she wanted was for her mother to hug her like she used to do when she was a child, her delicate fingertips tracing designs onto her back.

Tsireya doesn’t notice she has started crying again until she sniffles and coughs a bit into her arms. She curls up on her side in pain. The grief is like a knife in her chest.

She hears Ao’nung shuffle behind her, and then he’s walking over and laying down beside her. He is on his side, facing her the way they used to sleep growing up.

The moment their eyes connect, she crumbles.

She notices the way her brother flinches a bit when she surges forward to hug him, burrowing her face in his neck as she cries. But then, slowly, as though he had forgotten how to do it, his arms close around her and squeeze gently in soothing patterns.

They had begun to drift away from each other years ago—they just couldn’t seem to understand one another. Tsireya hated Ao’nung’s recklessness, and the sort of friends he kept around.

And she knew that Ao’nung resented how their parents perceived her as the perfect child: quiet, obedient, and caring.

It had become difficult to speak to one another before it devolved into arguments. They instead kept their conversations within “safe” topics, an unsaid rule between the two of them to never stray from those topics.

In fact, it had been their joint training of the children of Jake Sully that had felt like the beginning of a bridge between them. Swimming and laughing with her brother made Tsireya remember when they were young and joyful and full of energy.

They had once been nearly inseparable. As time passed, however, they were rarely seen near each other for extended periods of time.

Even when she had heard about the fight between Ao’nung and the Sully boys, she had an inkling that it was his immature friends that had once again become a bad influence to her brother.

He had always wanted so badly to escape his role as the chief’s son that he found comfort in even the most troublemaking company.

After her father had scolded her, before yelling at the rest of them, Ao’nung had looked at her with a small frown.

Are you alright? he had signed.

I will be, she had signed back.

He had frowned even deeper, and it looked like he wanted to say more, before their mother called his name and he turned to leave.

Now, he hummed a low song as she cried onto him. It was a song that their mother had sang to them as children—a song composed by her Spirit Sister, which made the grief in Tsireya’s chest even deeper.

She sobbed until her body ached, both in mourning and in delayed fear. She had been so terrified on that ship, strapped to the metal with no sight of her family, and Lo’ak and Tuk had been beside her.

In that moment, she knew that if it came to it, she would give up her life for theirs.

And yet, Neteyam had appeared like a blessing, slicing their restraints and saving her. And what seemed like minutes later, she was left to watch his deceased body on the rocks.

Ao’nung was brushing his fingers through her hair now, a sort of desperate tone bleeding into his words. He was not skilled in the concept of comforting a crying sister.

“Shhh…it will be alright,” he tried. “Sister please, try to breathe…”

She could feel her breaths coming quickly and unsteadily, heaving from somewhere deep within her. Try as she might she could not put into practice her own lessons on breathing.

Everything was becoming blurry and slow, and it felt like she could not breathe properly.

Memories of being tied up on the ship, handled roughly by the avatars of men who had no regard for her circulated her mind and she felt panic seep into her veins.

Strong hands wrapped beneath her knees and spine and she was being lifted, and yet she could not focus on who it was and where they were going.

“—other, Mother!” She heard a boy’s voice yell, and he sounded scared in a way she had never heard before.

“Place her here,” a voice replied, calm but concerned. “Tsireya, you must breathe deeply…”

She heard her mother’s voice as though they were underwater. Tsireya felt pressure from fingertips on her face, on the forehead and beneath the eyes.

“Daughter—“

“—happened—?”

“—crying, but she started trembling and hyperventilating—“

Tsireya felt someone push a piece of food (fruit? medicine?) into her mouth and she instinctively chewed on it. As she did so, she felt an immense tiredness flood her, her breathing slowing down and her heart rate doing the same. She felt exhausted.

She opened her eyes to see her mother, father, and brother around her. They were in the marui. They were all staring down at her with worry in their eyes, and Tsireya could not help but feel ashamed.

“I apologize,” she said, but her voice is a bit slurred from exhaustion. “I’m sorry.”

Her father leaned towards her to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, before gently kissing her forehead. Tears sprang back to her eyes, but she was much too tired to cry.

“There is absolutely nothing to be sorry for, my daughter,” he assured her.

Her mother nodded resolutely and kissed her cheek. Tsireya could see tears in her eyes and exhaustion beneath them.

“Rest now, ma Tsireya. You have gone through so much today. We will speak tomorrow.”

Tsireya hummed and shut her eyes, but they widened when a flash of the violent men came back. Their hands on her body, cruel and evil and set on destroying her home. The same hands which set fire to other Metkayina villages, and had slammed Lo’ak onto the ground.

The hands that had pulled the trigger of the gun that killed Neteyam. 

“Tsireya? What is it?” Her mother asked.

Tsireya looked to the side for a moment, and saw Ao’nung, sitting with his knees to his chest and focused entirely on her lying form.

“I am frightened…to sleep…because I may dream about being back on the ship. Or have to watch Neteyam die once again,” she whispered, shaking slightly as tears rolled down and tickled the sides of her temples.

Her parents share a look of distress, concern, and worry all wrapped up in one silent exchange. Her father moves toward his sleep mat, moving it so it lays beside Tsireya’s own, and lies down.

She moves without thinking, burrowing herself closer to his form which is pure strength and protection.

On her other side, Ao’nung lies down without speaking, and places one arm over her so the sense of safety eases her mind.

Tsireya’s mother curls up beside her mate, her head on his chest. One of her hands reaches out to run through Tsireya’s hair, the way she does when she is sick.

Tsireya no longer feels the intensity of panic running through her mind, and when she closes her eyes she does not see violence, but instead fond memories of her family—loving and being loved.

She falls asleep, listening to the calm breathing of her brother and her father on either side, and her mother’s fingertips in her hair. 

[itooaminthisepisode]

ao3 wilson whump/angst/hurt recs: Lemon Water, Chicken Water by littleguypi (works/46568596) (incomplete), Rock Bottom 'verse by fayding_fast (series/2310599), Heart-Shaped Box by Flywoman (works/201991), Like Cinnamon and Sunflower Oil by Reddish_Wolf (works/56103022), Sight Unseen by yarroway (works/5357954), pills & drinks don't mix by cafewrites (works/48364147), Aftershocks by black_cigarette (works/3988615), thumb, index, palm by PaintedVanilla (works/17745803)

anon i am kissing you on the mouth so hard right now /p thank you SO MUCH

this is going to keep me entertained for a good long while teehee.... love seeing that sad wet little freak (affectionate) put through the Horrors :)

[kingtry]

let me help

Author: cafewrites Rating: General Audiences Fandom: Monk Relationships: None Language: English Stats: 1 Chapter (Completed)

Summary:

“Something’s wrong, Monk, I just know it,” the captain looked at Adrian, who nodded in agreement. “How long has he had a boyfriend?” Adrian asked him, and the captain’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He had forgotten about the man—he assumed it had ended, that the relationship had led nowhere. So how did Adrian know about it. “A few months, if I remember correctly. Why?” Monk shook his head a few times, and a look on his face made Leland’s heart rate spike. It was a look of concern, which was a facial expression that was quite rare with Monk. “Monk. What is it.” Adrian made eye contact with the captain and pursed his lips. “Have you noticed the way he flinches when you reach up to touch your hair, or twist your toothpick?”

Autor: cafewrites Clasificación: Audiencias generales Fandom: Monk Relaciones: Ninguna Idioma: Inglés Estado: 1 Capítulo (Terminada)

Resumen:

"Algo anda mal, Monk, simplemente lo sé", el capitán miró a Adrian, quien asintió con la cabeza. "¿Cuánto hace que tiene novio?"" Adrian le preguntó, y las cejas del capitán se levantaron en sorpresa. Se había olvidado de aquel hombre: suponía que había terminado, que la relación no había llevado a ninguna parte. Entonces, ¿cómo lo sabía Adrian? "Unos meses, si no recuerdo mal. ¿Por qué?" Monk sacudió la cabeza varias veces, y una mirada en su rostro hizo que el ritmo cardíaco de Leland se disparara. Era una mirada de preocupación, que era una expresión facial que era bastante rara con Monk. "Monk. ¿Qué pasa?" Adrian hizo contacto visual con el capitán y frunció los labios. "¿Usted ha notado la manera en que él se estremece cuando usted estira la mano para tocar su pelo, o tuerce su palillo de dientes?"

Divisores de  cafekitsune

[ao3feed-kimparis]

vignettes of recognition

by cafewrites

Tom Paris has not had it easy, and his coping mechanisms have never been the best (or even good). - five times someone notices Tom Paris' scars

Words: 3418, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Star Trek: Voyager, Star Trek

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Tom Paris, The Doctor (Star Trek), Tuvok (Star Trek), B'Elanna Torres, Neelix (Star Trek), Harry Kim

Relationships: Harry Kim/Tom Paris

Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Hurt Tom Paris, Tom Paris Needs a Hug, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, First Kiss, Friendship, Developing Friendships, Tom Paris Whump, Fluff and Angst, Self-Harm, Self-Esteem Issues, Mental Health Issues, Depression, Friends to Lovers, Voyager As A Family, Whump, Recovery, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/47687212

[iboel]

Perhatian?

Bagi kaum adam, menarik perhatian lawan jenisnya bisa diamati dari sikapnya yang terlihat lebih mendominasi diantara teman-temannya, Volume bicaranya tinggi namun tetap berwibawa, postur tubuhnya tegak dan nahap mencerminkan sikapnya yang bijaksana, memberi nasihat dan saran kepada teman-temannya agar lawan jenis mengaggumi cara bicaranya. Dan terakhir, sinyalnya adalah sesekali dia akan membuat kontak mata dengan lawan jenis yang ditaksirnya.

[islascafe]

The Heaven and Hell of You

Content warnings: fem!reader, fingering, oral (fem receiving), mentions of heaven and hell, mentions of alcohol consumption, use of pet names, (angel, pretty girl,), overstim, choking, breeding kink (if you squint), SELF INDULGENT AS FUCK

Word count: 4.9 k

Genre: pwp, porn with plot, friend with benefits to lovers, fluff,

Pairing: Ken 'Draken' Ryuguji x fem!Reader

Authors note: Yo I love this man so much. I mean like so much it kills me. I did a writing prompt ask a while back and got a prompt from the lovely @portfolio-of-dreams that was only supposed to be three sentences and it literally became an entire one shot because I can't stop when this man is involved. So for your research purposes, here's exactly what I did with this prompt and thank you for the beta read too. Also big fucking shout out to @bokuroskitten, @rxmera for the beta read, you guys are the best especially for having to deal with me as I tortured over the ending the past couple of days.

Tapping your fingers on the steering wheel, you couldn’t help but lean your head back on the seat, heart pounding in your chest. Nerves and anxiety clawed at the edges of your stomach, crawling its way through you until your body felt hot. 

Start the car.  It’s so easy. Key in ignition. Turn. Drive away.

“Fuck!” You screamed, banging your hand on the steering wheel. You let out a loud huff of breath. “Fuck!”

A tap on your window startled you and you jumped. Placing a hand over your chest you tried to slow the beating of your heart. Looking at the familiar dark eyes through the window you rolled down the window. “Hey. You alright?” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the window. Dark eyes captured yours and your mouth went dry.  At a loss for words, you nod. Shit you didn’t expect him to see you.  “I texted you where’s your phone?” You look down in your passenger seat to see that sure enough, he had been texting you. You’d agreed to come over at such a late hour and he’d been worried when he hadn’t heard from you, knowing it took almost no time at all to get to his place from yours. “Sorry I was just uh… lost in thought.” “You coming up or...?” He trailed off, eyes flicking over you. Your face heated and you nodded, reaching over to grab your bag from the seat along with your phone. Rolling up your window and getting out, you lock your car, trying to ignore the way he places a hand on your waist to guide you up the steps to his apartment. His tall frame hovers over you as you make your way inside. Long deft fingers help to pull your coat off, making sure his fingertips skim over your bare skin where he finds the opportunity. You shiver a little at the contact.  You walk further into the living room as you toss your bag onto the armchair. Turning back to say something to him, he almost takes you by surprise because he’s right behind you. You hadn’t even heard him come up, his tall form leaning over yours. You tilt your head back to look at him. Just as you’re about to open your mouth to say something, he’s on you. He grabs your face, pressing his mouth to yours.  His lips are so so warm against your cool ones. You lean up on your tip toes wrapping your arms around his neck. He picks you up, hands hooked under your thighs that are wrapped so tight around his waist. You groan, the minty taste of his toothpaste and something so uniquely him dancing across your tongue. Tugging at the low bun he has his hair in, making the strands fall around his shoulders, you nip at his lower lip. He grins against your mouth, walking back towards the bedroom with you attacking his neck, trailing hot open-mouthed kisses up and down. The taste of him and the smell of his cologne have you dizzy before he even tosses you down on to the mattress.  You bounce lightly, laughing as he practically tears at your clothes, desperation written across his features. The minute his long fingers hit your thighs, snagging the edges of your underwear, you shiver but not from the cold. His fingers left a trail of fire where they touched, dancing ever so slightly upwards to push your shirt up. A small hiss leaves his teeth as the sight of a red lace bra, matching panties driving him wild. Your tanned skin looks so beautiful against the stark red of the lace that wraps perfectly around your breasts and hips. Running a hand between them, all the way down to cup your clothed heat. You whimper, pushing your hips down more, trying to get more friction. More, more, you needed so much more than his teasing touch.  “Ken.” The way you say his name is desperate. Needy. You’re begging with a single word. He rubs the pad of one finger against your clit, watching as you squirm. “Ken!” His mouth comes down to slam against yours, bruising pressure parting your lips. His tongue strokes against yours, poking and prodding, memorizing every crevice of your mouth. It’s hot and messy and he puts just a little more pressure on your cunt, swallowing the cry that follows. He pulls away, eyes glued to the string of spit that connects you two. Your eyes are half lidded, glassy with need.  “Angel.” He breathes the nickname but right now you truly look like one. Pretty red set, tan skin practically glowing against the moon light, the only contrast the tattoos that cover certain parts of your skin. Hair splayed out around your head like a halo, lips kiss swollen, legs spread wide. Hands fisted in the sheets, voice calling out his name. It’s heaven on earth for him.

For you, it’s the utmost form of heaven and hell clashing together. You’ve gone through this cycle the last six months of seeing him. You’d drop everything for him. You’d do anything for him. He’s all consuming even when you’re not with him. What started as a beautiful friendship after an afternoon run in has turned into this. Late night calls and nights spent scratching an itch that only he knows to do. You could handle that. That was heaven. The way his fingers skimmed over your skin, lighting you on fire. The way his tongue trailed wet paths of heat. The way he stretched you, split you open so beautifully it was other worldly. 

But hell. Hell came straight after in the way his laughter lit your whole world up. The way he cooed in your ear how pretty you were falling apart for him. How pretty his pussy is milking him. Hell came in the form of laughing until your sides hurt. It came in the form of crying until 2 am because of the asshole that had dumped you. It came in the form of him showing up on your doorstep with ice cream when your last falling out with your mom became too much. Hell came in the form of the way his eyes seemed to devour you in your most vulnerable moments. Hell was falling head over heels for Ken Ryuguji. Hell was not knowing what to even do about it and then spotting him on a date the previous evening and winding up underneath him the next night. 

It was almost too much the way his mouth and tongue nipped at the skin of your neck and collar bone, the mixture of pain and pleasure making you squirm. Your nails dug into his skin, your hands trailing up until they’re woven through his long black locks, tugging as he sucks his dragon into your skin. 

You roll you two over, sitting on top of him. Your hair creates a black curtain around your faces, lips locked together. It’s hard and bruising, the way you kiss him, teeth and tongues clashing together so hard that when he nicks your lip you start bleeding. You can’t bring yourself to pull away in the moment. You kiss him like you hate him. It’s a dichotomy that makes him dizzy, angry and turned on at the same time. He grinds his hips up, grabbing your hips so hard it’s bruising. He doesn’t understand what’s gone on in your head the last few seconds, but whatever it was, the shift made you so angry but so sexy he’s rock hard. You bite down on his lower lip, hard enough to that he physically jolts. Grabbing your throat in one of his large hands, you spin as he rolls himself on top of you. 

“What the fuck?” 

You’re breathing hard as he stares down, intense dark eyes cutting into you the way they always do. You suck in a deep breath before reaching and trying to shove him off. Confusion washes over his features but his hulking form doesn’t even budge. You nearly shriek in frustration. You can’t do this right now. The room is closing in on you and it’s pressing down hard. The feelings you’ve tried so hard to bury start crawling their way up from your stomach, burning as they slither up to sit at the top of your throat, wanting to spill out into the air between you two. 

“What the fuck is with you, y/n?”

“Get off me.” You speak through gritted teeth and hope that the frustrated tears in your eyes are enough to get him off you. He blinks once, and then twice more before letting go of your throat and sitting up while you spring up off the bed. Grabbing your clothes, you pull your jeans on, his eyes taking in the way they hug your every curve. 

“Hey.” He grabs your forearm as he scoots to the edge of the bed. You yank away from him, and it brings up an ugly feeling that swirls around in him. “Hey.” His next word is spoken in a voice that means business. It’s low and rough, demanding. It’s enough to still you and he grabs your hips in that same bruising grip, keeping you in place between his thighs. “Are you gonna fucking talk to me or pout like a goddamn child?”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” You stare at the ceiling with your head tipped back. You never thought you’d be confessing like this. But now that the sentence was out, all the words that had been sitting at the top of your throat every time you two got tangled up in the sheets the past six months came pouring out. “We weren’t-.” You pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes, hot, burning frustrated tears threatening to rocket down your cheeks. “I wasn’t supposed to…”

“Fall for me?” His words make you pause. But it’s the look in his eyes that makes the anger swell. The recognition of something he already knows. Anger rises in your chest, and you shove him. Hard. You push him away from you, taking a few steps back. 

“You knew? You fucking knew and you didn’t say shit?”

“What the fuck was I supposed to say?” He rises to his feet, his voice raising to match yours. “Imagine how I felt too!” He slams his hand on the dresser you’ve backed yourself into, causing you to jump. “I don’t know what to do with this!” His chest is heaving, breath coming out in angry pants. “I was dating. Having fun. No commitments, no strings attached, we were free to bail at any time.” He grabs the back of your head, hands tangling themselves in your long black strands. “But then you. Your fucking laugh, your fucking smile, your goddamn touch. The way you taste. The way you moan my fucking name.” He presses his lips to yours so hard you think your lips are going to be bruised. He pulls away and cups your face in his hands. “I don’t know how it happened. You were supposed to be just a good time, just an innocent fuck- but somewhere along the way I got greedy and wanted you to love me.” His words make you pause. 

“Excuse me?” Your voice comes out a whisper. And then you laugh. You completely break down into giggles. “I’m sorry!” 

You take a few breaths, but his frustrated face sets you off again. As your eyes connect his mouth quirks at the corners and he huffs, dropping his face into the juncture of your neck and shoulder. He gives into his own chuckles. “Are you telling me, we both felt the same way the entire time, but we were both too chicken shit to admit it?” 

You cough to cover up more laughter as you nod. His hands are on either side of you, his large form caging you in. His breath is hot and heavy on your neck. Even though the atmosphere around you two was surrounded in mirth a few seconds before, something different cackles in the air. He lifts his head, his eyes on yours. They’re intense and dark, looking straight into your soul. He reaches a hand up, tracing his thumb around your lips, dragging your lower lip down with his thumb. Reaching your tongue out, you give it the softest kitten lick, whimpering at the taste of his skin. His large, calloused hand was so so gentle as he studied you. Once again, he wove his hand through your hair, bringing your mouth to his.

The taste of him drove you wild each and every time you kissed him. His tongue licking your lips, shoving its way in to stroke yours never ceased to make your thighs press together and fire to ignite in your belly. He placed his hands on the supple flesh of your thighs, lifting you up onto the dresser. His mouth didn’t disconnect from yours, tongue and teeth clashing as you two pressed harder against each other, each one of you trying to control the kiss in your own way. You whimpered as he finally pulled away from you, your eyes half lidded and lips puffy and red. Leaning back against the mirror that was on top of the dresser you groaned and tipped your head back as he began to trail his lips down your neck. Tracing his way over each of your collar bones, teeth nipping in all the sensitive areas, his tongue snaking out afterwards to soothe the sting of each time his canines sunk into your flesh. Goosebumps broke out in his wake, your chest beginning to heave as the fire inside of you grew and grew.

He trailed his fingers down your side and over the waist band of your jeans, popping the button open. He lifted his mouth from your skin, leaning his forehead against yours as he dragged your zipper down. His movements were slow and deliberate, the sound of your jeans unzipping tooth by tooth making your squirm underneath him in anticipation. Lifting your hips, a loud gasp left your lungs as he stripped you of your jeans and underwear in one go. He knelt in front of you, your cheeks flaming at the glazed overlook in his eyes. 

Your heart almost stopped as he spread your thighs, his fingers softly tracing over the satin smooth skin of your inner thighs. You swallowed hard, biting down on your lower lip as settled your thighs over his shoulders. Gently he drifted his lips from your ankle to the apex of your thighs, repeating the process on the other leg. You were practically whimpering by the end of it, hips bucking up, trying to find some relief to the fire that burned inside of you. It felt like time dragged on until he finally obliged, his tongue licking a long flat stripe up your slit until the ball of his piercing hit your oversensitive clit. 

A loud moan left your mouth and he reached up to grab your hips to keep you from moving, diving into you like you were his last meal. It was lewd and loud, the sound of him licking and sucking up everything you gave him. Small mewls and whimpers fell from your lips as his tongue swirled around, the cord in your stomach getting tighter and tighter with each swipe of his tongue, the cool metal of his piercing offsetting the warmth of his mouth. You were wound so tight that when he finally slid two thick fingers inside of you and pulled your clit back into his mouth, the cord finally snapped, causing you to release all over him. Your mouth dropped open, the only word coming from you was his name over and over again. He continued to move his fingers, helping you ride out your high until you were limp, your thighs twitching on his shoulders.  

Looking down, you caught his eyes, his head leaned against your left thigh as he peered up at you. You whimpered as his fingers continued their slow pace inside of you, the metal of the rings he usually wore stretched you out, your walls continuing to suck him in despite how sensitive you were. “Pussy’s so hungry for me pretty girl.” Another whimper left your mouth as he placed a hot open-mouthed kiss on your inner thigh, his teeth sinking into the skin. You squealed as he started to suck harshly before he soothed the skin with his tongue, leaving a large purple bruise on your thigh. Your hips bucked again, and he added a third finger. “Gonna leave my mark all over these gorgeous thighs of yours.” “Ken please.” Your voice was desperate and needy, almost akin to a whine. You could feel your walls fluttering around his fingers, clenching again as the same chord started to tighten in your stomach. “Kenny, ‘s too sensitive, please.” 

He shook his head as he turned his attention to your right thigh. “You can take it can’t you baby?” Another swipe of his tongue and the way he scissored his fingers inside of you had your mind going hazy. 

“Ken. I- I can’t.” Your voice is shaky, unsure of whether you can take much more of his teasing because you have such a burning need.

“Oh, but you can baby. I know you can. Don’t wanna take you with no prep angel.” He stands but keeps his fingers working inside of you. Reaching down, he grabs the back of your neck, pulling you up and slamming his mouth down on yours. The new angle has you gasping, your nails digging into his shoulders as he curls his fingers to touch that sweet spot that no one else can reach. “Yeah, that’s it isn’t it baby?”

His deep baritone vibrates through his chest, low and rough as he watches you start to come apart on his fingers. You’re mewling, arching against him so your chest is pressed against his. He captures your lips again, sucking your lower lip in between his teeth, tugging on it. His tongue strokes yours, and the taste of yourself dances across your tongue. A groan leaves your throat and you subconsciously spread your thighs a little wider, his palm grinding against your clit. He pushes harder and pulls away from your mouth, looking down to watch your release drip down his fingers as your second orgasm of the night hits you. You’re practically trembling as he lifts you, turning so you’re back on the mattress. 

He swears he’s never seen something as beautiful as you. You’re fully on display for him, hair splayed out like a dark halo around you, lips kiss swollen and red, neck and chest peppered with the nips he’d given your skin. Your needy hole clenches around nothing, begging to be filled. Taking the fingers that had been inside of you, he slides them in between your lips, watching as you immediately begin to suck on them and lick them clean. You’d never admitted it to before, but he always picked up on your oral fixation, and he always made sure to put it to good use. A small keen leaves your throat, your tongue laving at the essence you’d left behind. He sucks in a breath of air through his teeth. 

Reaching between you two, he rubs the head of his cock through your folds watching with rapt attention as your flower open for him, the smallest of whimpers coming out from you as he bumps your clit. Finally, when he feels like he’s wet enough, he slides the tip inside of you, a groan leaving him as he watches the way you suck him. It’s greedy and so utterly enthralling the way your dripping cunt sucks him in. Inch by inch your pussy swallows him in. Finally, he hits some resistance as he always done. He rocks his hips back and forth, trying to get you to loosen up a little more. “’S fuckin’ tight angel.”

Your eyes are rolling back in your head, the feeling of him stretching you open making you feel so full, and you know he’s not even all the way in yet. He pushes down on your tongue, coming at you as tears start to clump on your bottom lashes. “Relax baby.” He swirls the pad of his thumb on your clit. “Angel breathe.” 

You take a deep breath, and he continues to swirl his thumb on you, watching as you start to suck on his fingers harder as he rocks even deeper inside of you. He lifts one of your thighs higher up your side and he’s all the way in, a loud moan leaving the both of you. He pulls his fingers from your mouth, eyes locked on the drool that drips down your chin. It’s practically falling off his fingers, leaving a messy trail down your chest. He pulls your breasts out of your bra, using his spit covered fingers to tweak your nipples until they pebble under neath his touch. You’re shuddering underneath him. 

You don’t even feel the next one coming, but when he presses his palm down on the bulge that had formed in your stomach, you lose it. You scream as white-hot pleasure rocks through every cell in your body. Your toes curl and tears race down your cheeks. You’re clenching down on him with everything you have, nails scratching deep red lines down his back. You’re gasping for air as you rock in time with him, all the air having left your lungs. You cum and cum and cum, and it seems like there’s no end to the euphoria that having him stuff you full brings you. You’re so busy with your own release you don’t even realize that he’s fallen over the edge with you. He doesn’t stop, fucking his load back into you. 

His hand drifts from your chest to your throat, gripping it a little hard. Your orgasm is never ending at this point. When he tightens his hand around your neck, you come apart again, your next release is splashing over his abdomen. It’s everywhere, running down your legs and pooling beneath you. You don’t even have in you to scream anymore, the smallest whimpers falling from your lips.

Finally, finally he relents, slowing down and easing up the pressure on your neck. You’re shuddering and your thighs are trembling. You’re gasping for air as he smooths his hands down your thighs. He leans forwards, brushing your hair back and swiping his thumbs over your cheeks. His touch is soothing to your overheated body. Ken presses his lips to your forehead, leaving small kisses all over your face until he reaches your lips. The kiss is soft, sweet and gentle. He pours his all into the kiss, heartbeat crashing into yours as he pushes every ounce of love that he has into your plump mouth. 

Just when you think it’s over, when you think he’s done and given you his all, he slides right back in you with such abruptness it knocks the air right back out of your lungs. There’s a grumble that comes from deep in his chest and you can feel every ridge, every vein of his thick cock as he continues to move in and out of you. The buildup is slower this time. He’s moving so softly, sensually. It’s passion and heat, his touch so demanding against your heated skin it feels like it’s starting to burn brilliant red trails wherever his hands drift over you.

“Kenny, I can’t please.” Your voice is raw and hoarse, scratchy from how much you’ve cried out and called for him. 

“Just one more angel. You can do one more f’ me, can’t you?” His hips snapped forwards, a long shaky whine leaving your lips. Your hands sink into his hair as his big hands wrap themselves around the back of your plush thighs. You trembled as his hips kept snapping into you. You can feel yourself shaking your head as he continues pumping into you. He lifts your hips just a hair more and the next thing you know, the head off his cock is bumping and kissing your cervix on every stroke now. You can’t tell what’s up, what’s down, where he ends, and you begin. 

The way he clings to you, the way his pelvis bumps your overly sensitive and tired clit is driving you closer and closer to the edge again. “Look at me angel.” You can barely register his words. It’s all a haze of never-ending ecstasy, the both of you so entangled in each other it’s dizzying. Your eyes connect, the intense love and fascination with his wrapping around your heart and squeezing, settling deep into your veins. His roughly grunted cry of your name and another hard snap of his hips is all it takes. The crashing wave of your release slams over you for the final time and you both let go together, loud grunts falling from his lips and cries of “Kenny, fuck, Kenny,” from yours. 

It's all hazy from there, you’re half passed out by the time he slides out of you, not even awake enough to stand for a shower. The most he gets out of you is forcing you to use the restroom before you slump against him. He sighs, helping you back to bed. The last thing you remember is the feeling of his fingers tracing up and down your spine as you give in to the exhaustion that’s settled in your bones.

There’s nothing but resounding silence that greets you in the morning. You roll over and wake shivering, cold and groggy in familiar grey sheets. The spot next to you is empty and you shoot up as realization hits you. You’d confessed your feelings. You’d confessed your feelings. Panic starts to make its way up your chest. Of course, you woke up alone. You were fooling yourself to think that you two could be something more than what it was. Practically scrambling out of bed, you’re left looking for the overnight bag you brought with you. Yanking on Ken’s discarded shirt on the floor, you make your way back out to the living room.

You’re struggling to swallow past this feeling of disappointment that’s settled over you. Locating your bag on the loveseat in the living room your head snaps up as the door opens. Kenny walks in, dressed in sweatpants and a simple black tee. He raises an eyebrow at your frozen and wide-eyed form. Lifting a bag of breakfast food and another with a drink holder, he watches as relief floods your features. “I brought breakfast. Hungry?”

You’re still at a loss for words but you nod, following behind him as he walks to the kitchen. He surprises you when he turns around after setting the food down, lifting you up on the counter. He stands beside you as you kick your legs back and forth, still trying to think of something to say. 

“You looked relieved as hell to see me sweetheart. Got somethin’ on your mind?”

He has a smooth easy way of talking when he asks, and it reminds you of the night that started it all. The late hour of being the last two standing at a house party your friend Hina had dragged you to after a disastrous break up. You’d been part of this friend group for years and you knew their mannerisms pretty well at this point, so it was no surprise to you that Draken was the one to find you sitting out on the balcony on your own. You’d both sat on the ground, legs stretched as you two passed a bottle back and forth. He’d asked the same gruff question then, a few sips in when you’d finally gotten a second to breathe. “Got somethin’ on your mind angel?” You’d poured your heart out that night about how you were feeling less than. How you’d begun to feel like you’d never be good enough or attractive enough for anyone. He’d dragged you inside and to his bedroom, proving in every way he could that night that you were so dead wrong in your assumptions. 

He cleared his throat bringing you back to the present. “Look. I’m not good at this feelings shit. Can’t even pretend to be smooth and act like I know what to say when it comes to gettin’ the girl. But what I can tell you is I’m here for you. In every way. I already told you last night, I selfishly, I greedily want you to love me. But when you’re ready. I’m all in.” 

Obsidian eyes connect with yours and you can see. You can see every emotion that swirls behind them, confirming what your heart knew all along. Grabbing an iced coffee from his grip you look down at it, the dripping cold water gathered on the sides of the cup running over your fingertips. Iced vanilla with almond milk. Your favorite, with the cute little cat sticker letting you know he’d gone as far as to even get it from your favorite shop on the other side of town.

“Hey Kenny?” 

He looks up from the bag he’s currently pulling food out of. “Yeah angel?”

“You wanna go out sometime?”

Taglist: @bxnten, @sano-obsessed, @sugusshi, @suyaboo-ya, @kisakiapologist, @brownsugarmoonie, @shibuyawardnetwork, @seagoddesslove, @wakasasucker, @ryuugot, @mitsuyas-plaything

[xoxomint]

Throwback to my long weekend with #rantaukids and being a KL kid again for five days 🌚 _ #jjalesupoxpenohpegikl #dderakhari2 #cafewriting #catchingklitegerms #yoloamirite https://www.instagram.com/p/B52ZuJYpsBvH4Xae6LI4VbBrKI6SAk5bAeRqIQ0/?igshid=vwyqi1ofuw0p

[writingpains2019]

Today I’m cafe hopping, since we have the next few days off of work. Early afternoon was dedicated to writing and reading. This afternoon it’s all about editing. - - - #cafe #heartshaped #amediting #novelist #writersofinstagram #writer #writerscommunity #writerslife #cafewriting #authorsofinstagram #author #authorlife #mocha #cafemocha #writingincafes #romancestory #romancenovel #fictionwriter https://www.instagram.com/p/BtftqnvB6h6/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=11gs13ij5vqbl

[shrestharoy]

• Throwback to this Cafe`• . Being stuck inside home and working is good but I still miss being outside, taking a small walk and visiting a nearby small cafe` which does not grab much attention. I like such cafe`s where you wouldn't call the crowd promising yet the crowd is exceptionally on its own. Good country music, some writings you may do in there and sipping a cup of strong brewed coffee. Your day has been made. On such days, I feel so good, so content within myself. I long for those days now. Under such a crisis that we all have been going through, I do understand that it's better to be safe inside than going out. But, you miss a few things, you know. I can't help it. Such cafe`s are the special ones, I think. This cafe` is one of them. As we have always known, that you can't judge a book by it's cover; this cafe` has its own essence. And the ambience is amazing. I can sit there in my own corner, read, write and enjoy the delicious food. The cafe` is spacious and you would be completely at ease of you play snooker. Usually, the Friday's you get to listen to the live music and not to mention, the day I visited I found an adorable dog too! That dog kept on greeting each one to enter the cafe` and get himself a nice pat on the back. Trust me, that's the best feeling ever. As the quarantine gets over, I am gonna take my time and visit this cafe` soon. . . . . . #excerpts #writings #thethingsaboutcafes #cafestories #throwbackofacafe #cafemoments #cafestagram #cafestyle #graffitiart #cafevibes #cafefood #cafeteller #cafeinterior #cafetour #notanad #cafegram #cafelover #cafedesign #cafewritings #girlwiththereddoorwrites #girlwiththereddoor (at Cafe 147) https://www.instagram.com/p/B-U7u9iHvnON8JiM1Bqp5bkHD1ZxyaR-9q_Auo0/?igshid=z4ptlwk5bto8

[ao3feed-kimparis]

shuttle and heart malfunctions

by cafewrites

The last thing he hears before the shuttle slams into the trees is Tom Paris’ panicked screams. Then, he blacks out.

Or: It takes a shuttle crash and Tom getting very hurt for a much awaited kiss. I don't really know where I was going with this but Tom whump is so good.

Words: 1437, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Star Trek, Star Trek: Voyager

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Harry Kim, Tom Paris

Relationships: Harry Kim/Tom Paris

Additional Tags: Blood and Injury, Injury, Major Character Injury, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Mutual Pining

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/47547202

[caithesra-blog]

Excerpt from my story "Cafe Writing". Read the full story here: https://www.wattpad.com/story/138278302-café-writing or here: patreon.com/caithesraulvar #writeratwork #shortstory #cafewriting #writinglife #shortfiction #freefiction #wattpad #patreonwriter #patreoncreator #patreoncreative #foliateoakliterarymagazine #literaryfiction #freestory #writinginacafe #liverpoolwriting #humourous #beginningofstory #readforfree #happyending #patreondebut (at Bistensee)

[bazmorris-blog]

And now a little post-lunch composition in the @codeandquill #traveler notebook. #Paris #CafeWriting #Hemingway (at Tour Eiffel)