#also that water looks idyllic

[childoftheriver]

Fishing

[seokgyuu]

When fertility clinics fail to give you what you want, you decide it’s time to take the matter into your own hands. And who’d be better for the job than Choi Seungcheol?

Pairing: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

Genre: Porn with a small bit of plot. 

Warnings: This work contains adult content! MDNI! This whole fic revolves around getting pregnant!! So if you’re uncomfortable, please do not read. Smut warnings under the cut!

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: Omg look, she’s back with a work!! And it’s a standalone Cheol fic??? Damn. I wanna thank the lovely @idyllic-ghost for the beautiful banner!! Have fun reading and please be a bit more patient in case you are a reader of Challenge Me. I swear there is more to come!! also big thanks to @beomcoups for reading this over and telling me it doesn't suck, lol.

Tagging: @duhnova, @yoonguurt, @highvern, @smileysuh, @cheolism @the-boy-meets-evil @ourdawnishotterthanourday @gyuswhore

“I don’t really know how to start.” You finally break the silence, sitting on the couch across from Seungcheol, your legs crossed and your hands laying in your lap. He watches as you lick over your lips, nervous eyes roaming around the room and something like a chuckle wants to creep out of his throat. He suppresses it and instead smiles.

“Me neither, don’t worry. We can take it slow if you like. Or I can finish this water and we can go upstairs,” he pauses for a second, “or stay here, whatever you prefer.”

Smut Warnings: unprotected sex (duh), creampie, dirty talk, blowjobs, face fucking, usage of the word daddy, squirting, multiple orgasms (f&m)

Choi Seungcheol has never done this before. He has never sat in the living room of a woman he barely knew with a glass of medium sparkling water in his hand and a pounding heart in his chest. If anything, this had only ever happened in his dreams. Not the medium sparkling water (mainly because he didn’t even like his water sparkled, medium or not) and perhaps with less clothing - even though that specific part was probably about to become reality. 

“Do you want something small to eat, or something?” You ask now and Cheol flinches slightly, looking up at you with his big eyes and his mouth slightly dropped.

“Oh, no, thanks!” He smiles back and takes a sip from his glass. It tastes awful but he’s not about to say that. 

Your living room is huge; two big couches the color of creme surrounded by tasteful art on the walls. A fireplace and a huge flatscreen above it, pictures of friends and family on the shelves, books from authors Cheol has never heard of. He wonders for a quick second why you would choose this route when you obviously had the funds to do it the… more professional way, but then he remembers that he is getting paid for this. In fact, he already has the insane amount in his bank account waiting to be used to pay off his student loans. 

“I don’t really know how to start.” You finally break the silence, sitting on the couch across from Seungcheol, your legs crossed and your hands laying in your lap. He watches as you lick over your lips, nervous eyes roaming around the room and something like a chuckle wants to creep out of his throat. He suppresses it and instead smiles.

“Me neither, don’t worry. We can take it slow if you like. Or I can finish this water and we can go upstairs,” he pauses for a second, “or stay here, whatever you prefer.”

You think it’s cute, the way he blushes. In a situation like this one, definitely not surprising. You’ve been thinking about this for months now: fertility clinics in your town and even outside of it weren’t working. It wasn’t the money that was the problem, but your body apparently. Or anything else. At some point one of the doctors joked that it would probably be best if you tried getting pregnant in the old fashioned way. By sleeping with someone who had a penis with functioning sperm. And whilst he had meant it as a joke, very clearly trying to uplift an incredibly sad situation (kind of distasteful, you find) you had taken it to heart and here you are now. 

A friend of yours owned a few gyms in town and Cheol was a regular turned PT in one of them. He was handsome and strong, a gentleman, healthy and in desperate need of some easy made money. Your friend had overheard him talking to one of the other PTs and even though it might not have been the most professional thing to do - she had asked him if he wanted to help out in your specific situation. You have to admit - back when she told you it felt extremely humiliating. Asking some stranger to have sex with you to, maybe (hopefully?), get you pregnant. Not to mention her being his boss - if he hadn’t reacted the way he did, he could have more than likely sued her for this. 

But he said yes. And now he's here. Many dollars richer and with an embarrassed flush on his pretty face. 

“Upstairs is probably more comfortable,” you finally respond and he nods, emptying his glass. After, he looks at you expectantly and you feel your insides growing hot. He’s everything you wished for and more. Better than who you had picked first in the fertility clinic for sure. It’s crazy, all of this, you know it, and yet you can’t help but feel like this is also the only right thing. You want a baby. Seungcheol wants to help you get one. 

Finally, you get up and he joins you, a nervous smile on his lips as you lead him to the stairs in the foyer, your legs shaking as you walk up, the sounds of his footsteps behind you echoing in your head. You’re about to lead a stranger into your bedroom. A sexy stranger that will (hopefully) father the child you’ve been wanting for over a year. Your stomach turns in excitement as well as arousal and you clear your throat as you reach the top of the stairs.

“It’s right over here,” you say, pointing at the door to your left and Seungcheol nods, eyes only temporarily leaving your frame. 

A part of him feels like he should come clean about how much he’s been looking forward to this. To sleep with you, to breed you. Ever since his boss had asked him about this, he’s been excited. It was almost as if she had known. Showing him pictures of you, telling him how much you want to have a baby. She obviously didn’t say the obvious, didn’t say that you were desperate for cum in your pussy to get you pregnant. Mainly because that would have been even more inappropriate. But Cheol knew. He still does. Knows that you’re probably dripping into your designer panties wanting nothing but his cum and his only. Fuck, he is growing harder by the second. He has to calm down, remain professional. This is supposed to be nothing but a business transaction, he is well aware. But it’s not like he chose to have an extreme breeding kink, right? 

The door to your bedroom opens and Cheol takes in the furniture and decorations only for a second before his eyes land on you again. You stand in front of your bed, your arms wrapped around yourself. 

“I- uh, I think it’s probably best if we, uhm, get ready by ourselves?” 

Cheol nods. He kind of figured there wouldn’t be much foreplay. Still, just the thought of you behind him, touching yourself… he comes to the conclusion he won’t need much handy work to be hard for you. 

“Should we take our clothes off, or…?” He asks carefully and you swallow, your eyes trying to be subtle as you check him out but he can clearly see what you’re doing. You want him to take off his clothes. You just aren’t sure if you should. It would probably make the situation easier, yes, but it would also expose you to this man that is built like a god. You bite down on your lip and swallow the lump in your throat. Then, you nod. 

With a sense of pride, Cheol moves his hands to the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head without any trouble. Your eyes are immediately glued to his toned torso - the abs, the strong shoulders, his chest. 

“Maybe we should turn off the lights.” The words escape your mouth before they reach your brain. A small smirk tugs on Cheol’s lips - you’re flustered because of him. Without a word, Cheol nods and turns off the light, sitting down onto the bed with his back turned to you. This is nerve wracking. Your face is hot and your heart is beating fast as you sit down as well. You hear him behind you. Hear the sound of his pants opening, of his hands moving to shove it down. There is no stopping the wish to see him, his beautiful body. When you hear the small sigh he lets out a few seconds later, you decide to just follow your instincts. It was you who had called him here. Backing out now would be foolish. So, you bite down on your lip and lean back slightly, your hand wandering down to your clothed core, pressing against it for just a quick moment, before you move to open your jeans as well, making quick work to get them down your legs. 

You begin to circle your clit over your panties, eyes closed and the image of Cheol right there in front of you. The smug smile, the lean muscles on his torso… you wonder what they’d feel like under your fingertips. Now, it is you who sighs softly and Seungcheol behind you groans quietly. The sound shoots through you, makes you crave to hear it even closer, right by your ear. You want him to hold you, want him to say your name as he slides into you. 

The sounds you make drive Seungcheol crazy. His big hand is wrapped around his cock, moving up and down, precum helping to make the glide easier. His whole head is filled with you and nothing but you and he has to stop himself from shooting his load right away just thinking about feeling you tightly around him. Yes, Seungcheol seriously doesn’t know how long he can go on like this without cumming. So, he slightly turns around, tongue slipping over his lips.

“I’m ready…,” his deep voice reaches your ears just when two of your fingers slide into your pussy, already longing for more. You moan, feeling another wave of heat running through your body. Nodding, you let your fingers slip out and turn around, moving fully onto the bed. You hadn’t discussed positions earlier, but you decide to get on all fours, Seungcheol slowly getting up.

He can’t see you, only your silhouette that looks ever so perfect, ass up in the air and, fuck, he thinks he won’t last long. Swallowing hard, he moves and places his hands on your hips.

“Is that alright?” He asks and you nod.

“Y-yes.”

That’s all he needs. Moving forward, his right hand grabs his erect cock, leading it to your core. God, you’re wet. No problem at all to slide into you, into your seemingly perfect pussy that begins to squeeze him right away. Seungcheol is sure there are stars dancing in front of his head already. 

His size almost takes you out. The stretch hurts deliciously and the second he is buried fully inside of you, your head drops and a moan you couldn’t suppress even if you wanted to makes Seungcheol thrust for the first time. He starts out slow but deep, trying to hold on longer by not speeding up. While the goal is obvious, he doesn’t just want to cum inside of you and leave. No, he wants to make this a good experience for both of you. So, he listens to the sounds you make to the way your pussy clenches, the way your body shoves back against him. You seem to like it deep, seem to want it harder and, fuck, if Seungcheol wasn’t so keen on still kind of keeping it professional he would push your head into your pillows and fuck you til you begged him to never stop. 

All that fills the air is the moans both of you let out as well as the sound of skin on skin, of his cock sinking into your wetness over and over again. You want to scream, want to tell him to go harder, faster. All sense of professionalism is slowly but surely leaving your body and when his big hands squeeze your hips, you finally falter. 

“H-harder, please!” You cry out and Seungcheol twitches inside of you, nodding to himself before doing as he’s asked. He leans forward, his hips hitting yours harder and faster than before, fingers digging into your skin as he groans in pleasure. 

“Fuck!” Your hands grab the sheets, knuckles white just when your first orgasm hits. Throwing your head back, crying out in nothing but pure bliss, leaving Seungcheol speechless. He can feel your climax around him, can feel you clenching, vibrating almost. He can feel just how good you squeeze him and there is no stopping his own release following right away, spurts of hot cum painting your warm walls white. He fucks both of you through your orgasms, sweat running down his face and finally pulls out, wishing the light was on so he could see his seed spilling out of you. 

You turn around, falling onto your back, your eyes closed. 

“That… wow.” You can’t find words. Mainly because you can’t even remember the last time someone fucked you this good. Seungcheol licks over his lips.

“Can I turn the light on?” He asks then and something in his voice makes chills run down your back. Your eyes fly open and you bite back down onto your lip before telling him yes. Once the light is back on, you feel another wave of lust rush over you. He’s fully naked. He’s sweaty. He’s perfect. Blonde hair sticking to his forehead, brown eyes taking in every bit of your body that’s free for him to see. Different from what you had believed you don’t feel uncomfortable. More so the opposite. His gaze on your body seems to light you on fire, making you crave more. 

“You’re beautiful.” He lets his hands fall down onto your bare thighs, slowly pushing them apart. His cock hardens again at the sight of your pussy, his cum slowly dripping out of you.. You allow yourself to check him out, seeing how his blood rushes down, how much he enjoys the view. 

“I think… I think maybe another round… would make the probability higher that it works.” Another thing you say before it registers. 

The smug smile appearing on his face now almost makes you gasp. It’s so different from the person he was downstairs, from the shy and slightly awkward man who didn’t know where to look. Now, he looks like a wild animal with its eyes set on its prey. Oh, god.

He leans forward, hands still on your thighs and your throat goes dry. His tongue licks over his bottom lip and his eyes seem to already fuck you a second time. 

“We should get this back inside, don’t you think?” It takes you by surprise when you feel his fingers on your core, when you feel him gathering his release and shove it back inside you, his thick fingers splitting you open deliciously. This time you can’t stop the gasp, your hands moving to hold onto his forearms, eyes wide and mouth dropped.

“That’s right, take all of Daddy’s cum,” his lips are right by your ear and your body is hit by an enormous wave of lust, your pussy clenching around his fingers as he keeps fucking them into you. Moans escape you and your head falls back - at least you think it does until you feel his other hand on the back of your neck holding it steady.

“Look at me,” he breathes, “look at me when I fuck my first load back into you before giving you another one.” 

You whimper as you nod, eyes watering from the desperation of wanting to cum again. Seungcheol is sure to give you as many orgasms as you can take. As many rounds as you let him have you.

His plump lips are opened as he watches you, your sweaty face, your blown pupils, your obvious need for more. Fuck, he’s a goner. Before knowing what he’s doing, he’s leaning in even more, crashing your lips together. Your eyes flutter shut immediately and you kiss him back, opening your lips to invite him inside. He groans against your mouth, his tongue sliding into your warmth, feeling yours a few seconds later. 

The kiss is heated and desperate and every vein in your body seems to be on fire. Your heart is pounding at triple speed in your chest and when Seungcheol parts for air, you’re already craving him again. You want to touch him, want him to hold you close when he’s back inside of you, when he gives you what you need, what you want. There seem to be no coherent thoughts left in your brain as he continues to kiss you with his fingers buried inside your sweet cunt. 

“Do you even know how hot you are, fuck,” he breathes against your lips now, pulling his fingers out of you to have both his hands on you the next second. He kisses you again, hungry for your touch. Hands all over you, gliding from your hips to your breasts, getting rid of the shirt you were still wearing. He wants to see all of you, lose himself in your body, wants to get high on what it feels like to know you want him just as bad as he wants you. This isn’t just about making you a mum anymore. Seungcheol wants to give you pleasure, wants to treat you the way you deserve. He saw it in your eyes earlier - saw how you want it hard and rough, heard it in your pleads for him. 

“On your knees, face me.” It’s an order you’re more than happy to follow. You bite down onto your lip and get on your knees, looking up at him. God, he looks ethereal. 

“Good girl, so, so good for me.” You shiver when he lets his fingers slide over your face, down to your mouth, sliding them in. You suck them in without having to be asked. They taste like you and him and your eyes roll back when he begins to fuck them down your throat, his free hand cradling your tits again. 

“That’s right. Fuck.” 

It’s like he is in a trance, hypnotized by the way you look with his fingers in your mouth, knowing full well his seed is still inside and will soon be joined by more. He feels like he is addicted to you already, like he just can’t get enough of you. He wants to taste you, wants to have you come on his cock over and over again.

His eyes are glued to you. You, who is sucking on his fingers so prettily, your tongue swirling around the digits and Seungcheol grows impatient. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and instead grabs his half hard cock with his slicked up fingers, jerking himself off a few times, eyes never leaving yours. 

“Open up wide for me, baby girl.” 

His cock slides through your lips and into your mouth and your eyes roll back, tongue already pressing against his thick length. The groan he lets out makes slick run down your thighs. You want him so bad, your pussy is throbbing and clenching and you feel like your head has never been this dizzy before. Nothing but arousal is in the air, the smell of you and him and what you’ve done just as hypnotizing as your eyes. 

Working forward slowly, Cheol watches as you take more and more of him down your perfect throat, his own mouth hanging low. No one has ever looked as good with his cock in their mouth. He doubts anyone ever will. He’s big, he knows he is and while he wants to be careful with you - he also wants to ruin you. Wants to see drool dripping down your chin, wants to hear you choke on his huge cock. 

“Take it all, I know you can.” He pushes further, his tip gliding down your throat and you choke, your eyes filling with tears, but there is no part of you that isn’t fully enjoying this. You want him to fuck your mouth, to be rough, harsh. Want to be used by him all while having him breed you later on. He watches you, watches the first tear and the first small pool of drool, his cock growing heavier on your tongue by the second.

“Look at you. So, so pretty. Getting Daddy’s cock hard so he can breed you again, isn’t that so nice of you?”

He does his first thrust down your throat and you choke once more, followed by a moan around his cock that makes him groan. Everything around him is a blur. There is only you and your mouth, the warmth of it, the feeling of how your throat restricts around his length, how you seem to vibrate around him. 

Getting your throat fucked certainly wasn’t on your list of probable things happening tonight. But you lose yourself in the feeling of him using you to get off. Feeling him grow harder in your mouth, spit dripping from your mouth onto your bed, his taste ever so present. God, you wanna devour him until he explodes inside of you. 

As much as he enjoys this, though, there is a reason he is here. With a last hard thrust down your excellent throat, he pulls out, watching you gain back your breath, your eyes fluttering open and looking at him with such desperate want it makes shivers run down his back. 

There is no need for words - he leans forward, pushing you over so you’re on your back, his lips catching yours in another heated kiss. His hand is around his cock, leading it to your entrance. The tip breaches you and you moan into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him even closer. Your legs almost automatically set around his waist, his cock sinking as deep into you as possible.

“Fuck,” he breathes, settling inside of you, giving him and you a second to adjust. God, he could already shoot his load. You feel perfect around him. Like you were made for him and only him. It suddenly bothers him - the fact he’s gonna get you pregnant and never see you again. The thought is scary, and he might have spiraled into something - but you have a different idea. 

Wiggling your hips, you are whining into his mouth, trying to finally get him to move. Your pussy squeezes him, begs him and Cheol is just a man after all. He does his first thrust that is quickly followed by more. Soon, both of your moans are filling the room, his lips kissing every inch of you he can reach, your heartbeat rapidly increasing. You feel like you’re in a different dimension, a dimension that only exists for you and Seungcheol and your pleasure. You arch your back, his mouth on your tits, sucking and biting them, your moans getting louder every second. 

While you don’t want it to end, you also want nothing more than for him to fill you up again. Feel him twitch and lose control because of you. Your nails dig into his muscular back just as he leans back, his dark eyes staring into yours as he fucks you harder, his hands shoving your thighs back, his movements becoming more fluid. Your eyes roll back and you sure you can feel him in your stomach, or no, you can feel him everywhere.

“Look at you, so fucking beautiful, could look at you forever.” 

You wonder if he knows what those words do to you. If he knows how hot he is, how ethereal he looks. Probably. With your mouth and eyes wide, your body in his hands and your pussy crying, begging, yearning for release, you let yourself fall. Fall down into the greatest pleasure of your life, waves and waves of it hitting you, liquid shooting out of you and onto Cheol’s cock and thighs, loud and lewd moans leaving your throat as you reach the highest height you’ve ever been.

Seungcheol’s response is the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard, his own eyes not able to stay open as he fucks into you faster and harder, so close to bursting. And when he does, when he lets go as well, when all he has to give is ready to be given - there is no stopping the wave of yet another orgasm hitting you. Spurts of white are met by your pussy squeezing him, by you crying out his name over and over while his hips crash against yours at rapid speed over and over again. 

Then, he collapses on top of you. Your legs fall into their natural position and your hands find the back of his head, stroking through his wet strands of hair. You are both panting, his chest glued to yours. Sweat and drool and other bodily fluids give the air the smell of sex and you wonder how long it’ll linger in your bedroom. You’re not sure you ever want it to leave. Or him, for that matter.

It takes a good couple of minutes before Seungcheol is able to lift his head to look at you. His eyes sparkle and you smile, one hand wandering to cup his cheek and caress it softly.

“Hi,” you whisper. He can’t help but smile back.

“Hi,” he replies quitely. 

He kisses you after. Soft and sweet. He is still buried inside of you, keeping his cum inside you, making sure it’s all right where it belongs. The thought makes him wonder. Makes him ask himself why it feels like it’s not just his seed that belongs to you. He doesn’t dare to speak what’s on his mind. Instead, he just continues to kiss you.

Unknowingly that you were just thinking the exact same thought as him. 

[defmaybe]

Bahama

KISS OF LIFE’s Won Haneul x Male Reader

1.7k words

See Also: Sticky, Not Shy

A/N: Itzy fic with a Kiss of Life title, check. Aespa fic with an Itzy title, check. So, here we are, Kiss of Life fic with an Aespa title. Also, a bit exposition heavy in the beginning lmao. Thanks for reading as always!!!

–

Small, idyllic waves crash into the golden sand. Seagulls fly above your head. People run into the water. The scent of salt permeates the air. The sun is setting in front of you, casting orange into the sky. You’d be lying to say that you don’t like this place.

Department trip, electrical engineering to be exact, would’ve been a splendid chance for you to get closer to Won Haneul, the goddess you’ve been pining over for the last few months. You fell in love with her confidence—how she’s always not letting her voice be silenced. Her leadership—how she led your group to a standing ovation from the professor last semester. Her invulnerability—how she stands up for the minority (which includes you, once).

Two problems, though. She definitely doesn’t love you back. Only occasional hello-s and hi-s in the hallway, that’s all. And this trip has been far from productive. You couldn’t get close to her for less than a meter for the last thirty-six hours, and by tomorrow, this chance would fly away as you two have to go back to your mundane university lives.

The other problem is that everyone has also been pining over her, so your chances are negative.

–

You and Wonbin are sitting on the sand, watching the sunset together. What a sight. Both of you have been sipping your beers once every few minutes for a while now. You watch Haneul playing volleyball with her friends from afar, wearing a set of skimpy clothes you’ve been fantasizing about for the last few months. Black bra, short jeans that accentuate her ass so fucking well. You have to adjust your trunks every once in a while to hide that raging erection.

Not that it goes by without Wonbin noticing it, though.

“Fucking pervert,” he says with a giggle.

“What the fuck?” you sneer back at him, trying to deny your frenzy lust for Haneul.

“And I thought I’ve been the dirty one all this time.”

“Fuck off, man,” you curse, gauging off a laugh from Wonbin.

“You really like her that much, don’t you?”

You can only whimper back.

“Go talk to her! I’m sure she won’t mind.”

“I don’t know, man. She wouldn’t even bat an eye on me unless I’m in an accident or something.” You surrender to the hypothetical apathy of hers. How could a popular woman even come to pour an ounce of interest for you?

White screen, her in the middle, smiling, a single, large carnation blooming behind her.

Elegant.

She looks better alone than with you.

“I mean, I didn’t win Jiwoo’s heart by just looking at her from afar. Go talk to her!” Wonbin says with a chuckle, shrugging. “A simple ‘Hey’ wouldn’t hurt.”

“What if she doesn’t like me? You can’t just expect me to do that!” you reply, sighing.

“Look, it’s the only way, man. Stop putting women on the pedestal and your whole world will change,” he answers.

“Ugh, I just–” you lie down on the sand before closing your eyes. “–I can’t.”

Wonbin pats your shoulder before lying down beside you.

“Man.”

—

Your moment of peace lasts pretty long. If the weather isn’t so hot, you swear you could fall asleep right then and there. The sound of the sea fills your ear, with the images of Haneul in those shorts reeling in your mind. God, what a time.

Until you feel a cold sensation on your pants, freezing cold.

And you hear Haneul gasps.

“Shit, fuck, I–I’m sorry,” she apologizes, stuttering slightly.

Shit. She spills her watermelon frappe on the fabric. You can’t panic. Don’t fucking panic.

“O–Oh, it’s f–fine, Miss Won,” you stammer in the same fashion as hers, before realizing what you’ve just–

“Hmm?” she says, before letting out a laugh, one that’s probably out of you being a pathetic man.

Fuck.

“Miss Won?” Her laugh grows even louder.

Why not just end it all here? You sit there, frozen, until her snicker subsides.

“Oh, don’t be shy, mister,” Haneul says with a sly smile, offering you a hand to get up. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Again, I’m sorry for, well, that.”

“I–It’s fine, Haneul.” You comply with her invitation, reaching for her and getting up from the sandy floor. There goes your chance of her. It’s over. 

At least she’s still kind to you.

—

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

Haneul adeptly twists the tap, and warm water flows out of the shower head she’s holding onto your swimming trunk. It was supposed to get wet, anyway. It’s just not in the way you’ve expected it to be.

She takes you back to the villa to clean you up. Sure, you could’ve just walked into the sea for a cleanup session, but her insistence was hard to resist. So, here you are, in the bathroom together.

She smiles throughout this embarrassing act (at least for you), as if there’s something amusing to be found within washing watermelon frappe off a man’s private parts. You are in a frozen state in front of this deity, just half a meter away from you, unable to say a word aside from the high-pitched grunts from time to time, bringing out laughs from her.

Until she clears her throat.

“Can I say something?” Haneul asks, eyes darting away from you, finding comfort in other objects around the room.

“Y–Yeah, sure.”

“Um…” She blinks rapidly, only able to maintain just a split second of eye contact with you. Is she finding you repulsive?

Anticipation hangs heavy. Both of you cannot say a thing under the silence. You watch her evading your eyes.

“Nothing,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ears. “We should get going.”

It’s over.

“Yeah,” you reply, before patting the last bit of the red chunk away as she turns off the water. “Thanks, Haneul.”

It ends here—your chance with her. At least you two can still be friends.

You turn back, ready to open the do–

“Wait.”

The word holds you accountable for a hot breath longer.

She turns the tap back on. But this time, she aims for your abdomen. Water trickles down your body.

“W–Woah, what the–”

A kiss on your lips silences you.

You take in her scent of sweat mixed with an otherworldly hypnotic perfume—salty, floral. Her tongue invades your mouth with ease, sweeping the insides of your warm cavern. The shower head is pressed between your bodies; water is running down and makes her frame wet alongside you. Fireworks are everywhere; people are cheering and clapping their hands; music is playing.

Won Haneul kisses you—with tongue.

She unlatches herself off of your lips, panting for air. “F–Fuck, that was great.”

You’re at a loss for words, still processing the kiss that happened mere seconds ago.

“Kneel for me, please.”

Without a single thought, you fall to your knees. The scent of her only serves to drive you insane.

Haneul would say nothing before slowly, so, so slowly, peeling off her incredibly tight shorts, revealing black panties underneath that matched her bra.

“Like the view, baby?” she asks.

You nod without resistance.

“Good boy,” she says, before softly pushing your damp head onto her equally wet cunt from the running water. And instinctively, you stick your tongue out and lick her clothed folds like some starving whore, drawing a gasp from her.

“Fuck!” exclaims Haneul. Her grip on your head becomes tighter. The pain stings, but your determination is unwavering. Your tongue keeps its pace on the soft fabric just for her pleasure. She just cannot whine louder at your touch.

The hint of her salty taste seeps through the dark fabric, diluted by the trickling water from the shower. Her fingers run along your hair, sending you into haywire, but you need even more.

Your hands seem to have minds of their own. They slither up her soft, toned legs, up the luscious thighs. They’re so firm. Until you reach the tenderness of her ass you’ve been craving for.

“Yes!” she screams, mouth opening wide, moaning. She pushes your head against the wall. The sound of the water still rings in your ear, dribbling down from your pressed head. It mixes with her thunderous moans into a cacophony. “Y–You’re gonna make me cum.”

Her legs turn stiff. Her breaths become more erratic and frenzy. You keep your pace, you have to. Going faster will kill the momentum. You keep lapping up her juices through those skimpy black panties, tasting that salt running out of her pretty cunt. The spilling softness in your hands only drives you further into mania.

And a loud gasp is all it takes for you to see heaven.

Fuck.

Her legs cease to stand up straight. Her grip on your head loosens as she becomes a wobbly mess. A high note echoes through the bathroom. Someone must’ve heard that, but you’re not in a position to care. You’ve just had the best meal of your life that is Won Haneul’s cunt.

“Fuck, shit,” she exclaims, as she’s coming down from her high. She lets go of your head. But as if you’re magnetized to her cavern, you keep slurping up her tangy juices through the revealing garment—any of what’s left. You can just do this forev–

“A–Alright, I know I taste good, baby.” The water is still running, washing any filth of the mere minutes ago away.

It takes a lot of self-reservation to put yourself out of her cunt. That salty, mouthwatering cunt. You whine a little as you pull your head back.

She washes the dirtiness on you with the water before turning it off, hanging the head back into its place.

“Thanks,” you reply with a smile.

“C’mon, let’s go to the sea. Maybe tonight–” she slithers her hand down into your shorts, groping your length—grabbing, squeezing, stroking, all in a flash. “–I’ll give you more than my lips.

The touch alone puts you back in your place. “Y–Yes, Haneul.”

—

[hometoursandotherstuff]

If you've always wanted a castle with a dungeon, here's your chance, b/c this house has one. The idyllic looking 1922 Tudor in Portland, OR looks like a lovely country estate, and for the most part, it is. 5bds, 6ba, $3.5M.

The long entrance hall.

The house looks like a Tudor outside, but it's very castle-like on the inside. Look at the magnificent great room.

The dining room looks like it's in a castle with it's stone walls and fireplace.

Chef's kitchen has fancy carved tri-color cabinetry.

Off the kitchen is a dinette/family room combo with a lovely big fireplace.

Nicely updated powder room.

Handsome wood paneled home office.

The large primary bedroom has a door to a terrace, built-in corner shelves, and a pretty fireplace.

Love the preserved retro baths. The toilet and tub are original.

Big home theater.

I don't know what this room is, but I think it's related to the dungeon.

And, here's the dungeon. It's very well-lit and features steel doors.

You'll have to decorate it yourself.

The grounds are absolutely stunning.

There's also this lovely guest house.

Beautiful greenery and water features.

There's even a lily pond.

There are 2.99 acres of gorgeous grounds.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/1837-S-Greenwood-Rd-Portland-OR-97219/53852912_zpid/?

[zigrethsnotebook]

hey I wasn't sure if u were taking requests so I'm sorry of this is annoying. Do u think u could write a ford x witch reader who like lives in the woods and has a bunch of odd pets (snakes, frogs, small cryptids, etc) I js think it's a really cool idea lol

Have a nice night

Drink water, eat food, and feel loved ❤️

-led

I absolutely am taking requests! ^^ Thank you, and I hope you enjoy💞

In the woods somewhere

Ford x Witch!Reader

words: 1,515

tags: sfw, fluff

Now that Ford was back in Gravity Falls and everything had finally settled, he went out to explore the forests again. Stan had just chuckled and told him to better stay in one piece and be back for dinner.

Ford made sure to walk a straight line pointing away from his house. If he followed it for long enough he would eventually reach a part of the forest he had never before seen. So he did.

It took him about five and a half hours to reach that point. Out here, the forest looked... greener. He wanted to say lighter but that's not true. The sun shone the same way it did anywhere else. But the colors of the trees and plants looked more vibrant somehow.

As he walked he made sure to note down anything he hadn't seen before. While Ford was examining a plant he didn’t know a butterfly landed on it. Ford smiled and pulled out his journal, trying to get a quick sketch of the little guy in his notes.

The insect had other plans though and soon flew onward. Ford followed it with his eyes for a second before his legs decided to follow the creature until it settled again. It had such a pretty pattern on its wings, he really wanted to draw it.

His plans worked out and he got a nice drawing of the butterfly. As Ford stood and looked around for the path he'd been on, he noticed that he had strayed off of it quite a bit. Making the best of a bad situation he decided to just explore this part of the forest instead.

After a few minutes roaming aimlessly, he came upon a clearing. In the middle of that stood a little wooden house, tinier than his own, in parts overgrown with moss and vines. It wasn't abandoned though. There was smoke coming out of the chimney.

His curious nature getting the better of him, Ford decided to approach the house. As he got closer he saw some creatures scurrying around the house and away from him. They seemed very fluffy, it must have been beard cubs, he decided.

Ford carefully walked around the house, trying to see where the animals had run off to. Behind the house he found a little garden where someone had planted vegetables, as well as a little pond that buzzed with dragonflies, bees and all kinds of other insects. The sounds were rounded off with some croaks from frogs he couldn't quite locate.

It was truly idyllic. But it was also a long way from all other people. As far as Ford could tell, he was their closest neighbour. He turned back towards the house and walked back around to its front door.

Ford knocked on the door. It took a few seconds and then the door swung open, revealing a way younger-looking person than he had anticipated. For some reason Ford had assumed that he’d be greeted by some sort of witch that was way older than he was.

The person who had opened the door looked truly surprised. They hadn't been expecting any visitors today.

After a few moments of stunned silence on both ends, you realized who this man in front of you must be. "Oh, goodness! You must be the new neighbour! I am so sorry I never got around to welcoming you properly."

This caused Ford even more confusion. You smiled at him and tapped your forehead as you realized why he was irritated. "Oh, I see. Sorry about that. Why don't you come inside for a cup of tea and I will explain what's going on here?"

Ford just nodded and let you lead him inside. As Ford looked around you introduced yourself and he did the same. He found the house even more charming on the inside. It was decorated with lots of plants and a surprising amount of candles. The rooms were way better lit than he would have assumed from the outside.

It was comfortably warm and a faint smell of lavender hung in the air. While Ford was sitting down at your kitchen table you prepared some tea for the both of you. "So tell me, Ford, how did you find me?"

"I was out in the woods, exploring a part of it that I had never been to. I lost the path I was on because I was... sort of... blindly following a butterfly." He rubbed his neck sheepishly. While he spoke, he looked around your house, really taking in all the little decorations you had scattered around every surface.

You chuckled at his words. "Yes. It happens to the best of us." A few moments later you had finished the tea and brought it over to the table, sitting down in front of Ford, who looked at you with pure curiosity sparkling in his eyes. It was adorable.

"So who are you? Why did you call me your new neighbour? And what did you mean by welcome me? Aren't you a little young to remember me moving to Gravity Falls?" You smiled at him and hummed. His questions were more than justified.

"Yes. Well, actually I assume I am around the same age as you are. I inherited this little cottage from my mother about two years before the reclusive scientist moved into the forest."

You watched Ford's eyes widen as he came to understand that you were telling the truth. "I really wanted to visit you and welcome you into the neighbourhood, but I didn’t get around to it for a couple of weeks. Then, the gnomes started telling me about some mean man capturing creatures."

Ford furrowed his brows, a hint of shame bubbling up inside him. "As you can imagine, I wasn't particularly thrilled to hear that. I went out to confront you about it, but the creatures stopped me, they were worried you'd capture me as well. So instead, I just helped them from here however I could."

Ford shook his head. "I never meant to harm any of them! I only came here to study." You sighed and nodded. "Yes. I know and I believe you." He looked back up at you with an apologetic look. Then it changed into an inquisitive one. "Why would I have tried to capture you?"

You chuckled at the question. "Because I am a witch, silly!" Ford's mouth fell open. How could he not have realized this? "Did you really think I would still look this good if there wasn't at least little magic involved?" You winked at him and he blushed slightly.

You took a sip of your tea as Ford tried to sort his thoughts. Before he could get a new one out a frog jumped into his cup splashing him with liquid. You huffed. "George! You know you're not supposed to do that!" The frog just croaked at you and you countered with a stern look.

You stood and took the cup with the frog back to the sink. "I'm so sorry about him. I'll get you a new cup." Ford thanked you as he tried to wipe at the wet stains on his turtleneck. When you turned back around to him and set the new cup down, you frowned at his clothes.

"So sorry about that as well. Here, let me help you." You chanted a short spell and soon enough Ford's clothes were dry again, no stains left behind. You smiled. "Perfect. Like it never happened."

Ford was speechless as he sat back down. Nearly speechless. "So does he do that often?" You chuckled a little embarrassed. "More often than he should, definitely." Ford joined you with a chuckle.

"So does... George... live with you in this house?" You hummed in thought as you looked over at the frog relaxing in the now almost empty cup. "I always say that my doors are open to any woodland creature that wants to be here. There's only two that really take me up on that though. George over there," you pointed at the frog, "and Theresa."

Before Ford could ask who that was you moved your arm in an apparently very specific way. Ford watched as a little rose-colored snake slithered out of your sleeve and onto the table. He smiled. It was an adorable snake.

You two continued chatting for a while and when you had finished the pot of tea that stood between you, Ford remembered that Stanley had told him to be back by dinner. "You could take my bicycle. As long as you promise to bring it back."

With a smirk from you Ford blushed again. Yes, you'd be happy to see him again.

Ford took your offer and promised to bring it back tomorrow. You were in no rush to get anywhere but you didn’t tell him that. You just smiled at him as he left your house.

He was back the next day. And the day after that as well. You two quickly became closer and even the forest creatures learned to resent him less.

[sluttyminghao]

gamers do it better | c.sc x j.ww

♡ pairing: choi seungcheol x jeon wonwoo x female!reader ♡ genre: smut ♡ w.c.: 2k ♡ this fic contains: messy gamers wonwoo and cheol, mention of mutual pining/longing over years, cockwarming, blowjob, mentions of fucking/multiple rounds, degradation (whore, slut), praise, and probably other stuff I've missed ♡ a/n: the brainrot is real...anyways enjoy! thank you to @idyllic-ghost for proof reading and giving tips on how to be More Feral <3

reblogs and feedback are much appreciated!

Living with two men had seemed like a great idea initially until you moved in with them. You were constantly cleaning up after them, making sure they ate proper meals besides drinking energy drinks, and scolding them to go outside for just 10 minutes a day to enjoy the warmth of the sun.

You had lived with Seungcheol and Wonwoo for a number of years. At first, it was because you all took the same Biology class together in college and it was convenient for you to commute together at the same time, but even after your classes finished, you found yourself emotionally attached to these men and couldn't bear to part with them, and the feeling was mutual.

The last 12 months or so had been…more challenging than the last few years. There had been some longing glances from the two men, especially if you had walked around the apartment in just a sports bra and spandex shorts. The occasional graze or touch over your exposed skin had also been noted, and made your heart rate quicken, but nothing had ever been initiated.

Many nights you went into your room and your hands wandered to lower places while thinking about how they’d treat you, how they’d bend you into a pretzel and fill you with cum. But it all dissipated when you went back out to the kitchen and found plates and food littering the kitchen bench. Typical men.

It was a warm summer evening, the sun still peaking over the horizon and bathing your kitchen and living area in a golden glow that took your breath away. As you stood over the stove, contemplating your life choices over the bubbling water with noodles, you hear a sudden shout coming from one of your roommate's rooms, sparking interest.

Normally, Wonwoo is a very quiet and reserved person. He makes small talk with you if you eat a meal together, but apart from that remains either in his room gaming or leaves home before you wake and comes back after you fall asleep. Even still, he pays the bills on time and is extremely good-looking, so you can’t ask for more than that.

Turning the stove off, you place the wooden spoon down and pad to Wonwoo’s room, the door closed as per usual. You rap on the door quickly, and a small mumble of a ‘come in’ can be heard from inside, so you turn the handle and squint against the bright light emitting from his screen computer.

“Are you okay? I heard you scream.”

“Oh, I’m fine, that was Seungcheol who screamed because he’s a little bitch.”

Your eyes drift across to the fluffy-haired man sitting next to him, who's staring at Wonwoo, shocked. He shoves Wonwoo’s shoulder and rolls his eyes, before turning around to face you with an unimpressed look on his stunning features. Seungcheol was stunning in his own way; fluffy black locks he’d permed a few weeks ago, bare-faced and the sweetest smile around.

“I am not a little bitch! He purposefully gave me a jumpscare!” He pouts as you chuckle and Wonwoo follows suit, only for him to immediately switch up and jump from his spot on the bed, stalking towards you until you’ve stepped back as far as you can go, aka hitting the wall with your back.

“You think it’s funny?”

“I-” Your justification is cut off by Seungcheol dragging his fingers up your exposed arm, goosebumps raising in their path. You can feel your heart pounding against your ribcage as he places a hand next to your head, and your palms grow sweaty. He grins and beckons Wonwoo to come over, who’s been watching the interaction intently ever since Seungcheol had backed you against the wall.

Everything about this interaction is like your dreams coming to life right in front of your eyes, the only thing that would place the cherry on top of the cake would be if they actually did bend you like a pretzel and have their way with you.

You feel small as both men stand in front of you, their eyes drinking you in as if they haven't had lingering stares on you before (which they definitely have). You don’t try to stop them as they let their hands roam your figure, fingers fiddling with loose fabric before eventually pulling your clothing off piece by piece until you’re left in nothing but your white cotton underwear.

“Don’t you look so cute like this?” Seungcheol comments, his calloused fingers tracing your nipples and causing them to harden. He smirks as he watches them pebble up, not wasting any time dipping his head down to capture one between his lips, letting the bud roll over his tongue lewdly.

A moan escapes your lips, which is quickly swallowed by Wonwoo who shoves his tongue down your throat messily. Their free hands are roaming untouched parts of your body, and while there’s a nagging in the back of your mind about how you shouldn't be doing this with your roommates, there’s a louder voice yelling at you in your brain for not doing this sooner.

“Look how easily you’re giving yourself up for us, already soaking through your panties,” Wonwoo mumbles against your lips as his thick fingers glide over the cotton, the wet spot undeniable as he presses his fingers against it and watches smugly as you keen at the pleasure.

You can only gasp as Seungcheol pulls himself off your nipple and attaches himself to your neck instead, sucking a bruise into the flesh that will be purple within a couple of hours. Wonwoo glances over at his screen and curses, before heading back to his seat, leaving you and Seungcheol in a confused and lustful state.

“I didn’t realize my next game was about to start, why don’t you be a doll and come and sit on my cock? It’s aching just thinking about being sheathed inside that perfect cunt of yours.”

You feel the wet spot grow larger at his filthy words.

When you don’t move from your spot, Seungcheol takes it upon himself to drag you by your hand to where Wonwoo is sitting and readjusting his headset to prepare for his game. With a small groan, Seungcheol rips your panties off your body, mumbling something about buying you some more later, before positioning you over Wonwoo.

A low whistle escapes Wonwoo’s throat at the sight of your dripping cunt, and feels his cock straining tightly against his sweats. He can’t take it anymore and quickly shoves his sweats and boxers down to pool at his ankles, letting his cock spring up to attention. Your eyes widen at the sight, pre cum beading on the fat mushroom head, a prominent vein trailing down the shaft and his balls twitching in anticipation.

He chuckles but doesn't say a word as he grips your waist to pull you over his cock, and lets the tip slide against your clit, a garbled whine escaping your lips at the feeling. He grins and taps the head of his cock against your clit teasingly multiple times, and with each teasing pass you feel your whines grow louder and needier. In a moment of lust, you feel Wonwoo’s lips come up to nibble on your jaw, sending a variety of feelings through your body.

“W-wonu…please…need you,” your breathing is shaky and your words are slurred, the teasing from both men going to your head and sending you into a frenzy. If you didn’t cum soon you think you might just have to grab your vibrator to finish the job.

 Luckily, it doesn't come to that, and your hand comes to rest on his shoulders as he finally guides his cock into you after teasing you mercilessly, the pressure of his cock finally filling you up makes your head swim and your thighs shake.

“O-oh fuck…” your voice trails off and you feel Wonwoo twitch inside of you as he finally bottoms out, a low groan filling your ears as your cunt squeezes around him like a vice. Seungcheol is losing his mind standing next to you, his own cock straining against his basketball shorts.

As you grow accustomed to Wonwoo’s size, you rotate your hips and begin the process of bouncing up and down. When his large hand comes to rest on your hips and grip tightly, you halt all motion and bring your head up to stare into Wonwoo’s lust-filled eyes.

“I didn’t say to move, did I? I just want you to sit on my lap and be a good little slut, and maybe once I’m done with my game you'll be rewarded.” His voice is short as he refocuses his attention on the game, delving right in and becoming immersed in the content.

You whimper as you clench helplessly around his cock, your fingers digging into his flesh through his shirt as he keeps you in place, despite still playing his game. You can’t even see him but you’re sure he’s smirking even while smashing the keyboard quickly.

“In the meantime, why don’t you be a good whore for me and help me out, hm?” Seungcheol’s husky voice has grown deeper and makes you clench, causing Wonwoo to chuckle. Your eyes open and you can see Seungcheol standing in front of you, thick cock in his hand pumping slowly.

As if on instinct, you open your mouth for him to place his cock inside, and you’re immediately met with the salty taste of his precum. You moan softly and start bobbing your head to take more of him in, which has his head falling back and one of his hands entangling in your hair, tugging on the strands harshly.

The sounds filling the room are lewd; the wet sounds of your mouth bobbing quickly over Seungcheol’s cock and how your cunt is still filled with Wonwoo’s cock, the occasional clench of your pussy sending a wave of arousal flooding down his cock and creating a puddle of slick on his chair. 

“Your mouth is like heaven, sweetheart, been waiting for y-years to do this,” Seungcheol praises you as his hips stutter when you deepthroat him particularly well. The grip he has on your hair is beginning to sting, but you couldn't care less when the arousal in your abdomen is beginning to grow by the second.

“Son of a bitch!”

The loud profanity has you jerking off Seungcheol’s cock abruptly and looking at Wonwoo with concern. You can hear Seungcheol groan in annoyance and move your head back to his cock, where you teasingly take the tip into your mouth and suck lightly. 

“Ya lose your game, big shot?” Seungcheol teases Wonwoo, who quickly whips his head around to stare the older down. He removes his headset and raises the middle finger to Seungcheol, who reciprocates quickly before focusing his attention back on you.

“Like you can play any better, especially with a slut in your lap.”

The degradation has you clenching around Wonwoo’s cock and moaning around Seungcheol’s, simultaneously making them throw their heads back and groan. You grin to yourself and make the effort to grind against Wonwoo and deepthroat Seungcheol before you’re pulled off both of them and shoved onto the bed.

You don’t have any time to react as they both crawl up next to you, Seungcheol now taking position between your legs and Wonwoo stroking his cock and tapping the fat head against your lips.

“Are you gonna show us just how much of a slut you can be?”

You lick your lips and spread your legs, inviting both of them to do as they please. It’s going to be a long, long night for all three of you.

taglist: @jihoonliker, @asmigirme04, @ny0sang, @cixrosie, @nabiee-x, @rinshabitat, @weakforsvt, @lenireads, @baldi-2, @floweryjessy, @joshuawifey, @enhacolor, @nikkixpenguin, @@yourfavoritefreakyhan, @valentxi, @hanniecheesecake, @vern0nsworld, @tigermoonbiss, @jeanjacketjesus, @excommunicado-03, @asjkdk, @humankimbap, @woozarts

@eaudenana, @weird-bookworm, @toruro

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[carolmunson]

wake up slow | barista!steve harrington

entry for my fall frenzy requests this request comes in from @superblysubpar: 'there's a scenario with bookstore / library date AND a dialogue prompt that says "what are you reading?"' with steve harrington summary: it's 1990. you're on the opening shift at the bookstore you work at, only to be surprised at a newcomer claiming to be up for an interview for the open barista position in the cafe at the back. sort of put off to start, it's no surprise when things start to bloom over time, and i'm not talking about coffee grounds. tl;dr carol writes a mini romcom.

tw: minors dni, there's nothing too out of whack in this one but i still don't want minors in here. reader is a little sassy but also like, pretty normal overall.

That damn key jams every time it rains -- doesn't help that you left your umbrella at home. Doesn't help that the 'light mist' turned into a heavy downpour the closer you made it to the book store. Doesn't help that you had to park a street over because of street cleaning and had to walk a block in the rain. Now the damn key.

"Come on," you grumble, jiggling an wiggling to no avail. Insert, r-insert, slight tilt to the right, jiggle, pull out a little, turn a little left and then -- nothing. You take the key out only for it to fall to the ground with a fairy like tinkling.

"Come -- the fuck -- on," you nearly growl under your breath while your coat gets heavier and heavier with rain, hood soaking through and dripping water onto your face. You bend down to get the key with a sigh meant for people with back pain, coming back up again to see the coffee bar manager on the other side of the glass door. He chuckles, salt and pepper beared thick over his chin and cheeks. Ruddy skin beams red even in the cool grey light of the morning, 30 years a butcher who pivoted into coffee when he turned fifty and had a really good knack for it.

"Easy morning?"

"Does it look like one, Carl?" you ask, stepping in when he opens the door. He laughs again, a hearty belly laugh that might as well have transported him into a Santa suit in December. "What happened to you?" he asks, following you into the back room where you start putting your stuff in your cubby. You switch out your wet sneakers and socks for the platform loafers and knee highs in your bag. Now that the fall weathers hit, it's all corduroy and knit sweaters, circle skirts and tall socks. If you're going to be on your fifth year working at an idyllic bookstore, you might as well look the part.

"Weather app lied, street cleaning, forgot an umbrella," you shrug, "Just another manic Monday, y'know?" "I know," he nods, "Gimme one second." Carl comes back with a white paper cup and black lid that makes you smile from the inside out, "Is that what I think it is?" "Isn't it always?" he smiles, "I got it ready the second I saw you on the schedule. Caramel latte, hint of cinnamon. Since its -- ya know, fall officially, I put a little maple in there, too." "You spoil me," you sigh, taking the cup from him and letting the warmth radiate through your hands.

"I do," he nods, "But, that latte was the last of my regular milk so I need to run out and grab a few gallons before we open up. You okay to be hangin' out by yourself?"

You nod, of course you're okay to be hanging out by yourself. You take the first sip, letting the caramel flood your tongue. The maple is a good addition. You're about to tell Carl to add this to the seasonal menu but he's already out the break room door with his coat before you can. You hear the jingle of the bell and the lock of the door and eventually the silence settling into the store around you.

You start to re-organize the window display which should've been done last night but 'last night you' said that 'this morning you' could handle it. You wish you could punch last night you in the face, but this is what you get for taking an assistant manager position.

You stack the back to school reads next to your knees where you're sat on them. The dust billows when you move them, making you sneeze with each turn of your head. You rub at your eyes, realizing at that very moment that the mascara you put on this morning has now definitely smudged -- you can't even find the emotional capacity to check considering the store opens in forty five minutes. You wipe down the display shelves, letting the oak gleam under the spot lights. The color is a warm reminder of the cozy moments to come the way that they do this time of year. As you start separating the 'cozy reads' from your 'spooky reads' in the pile on the other side of your knees you hear a knocking at the door --that's not very like Carl to forget his key.

You look over your shoulder, not seeing Carl at all, and if it is, he had some kind of Seventeen Again magic happen to him in that time at the store. You stand up, wiping off your knees and straightening your skirt before getting to the door where the rapping continues against the glass. "We aren't open yet!" you call out.

"M'here for Carl!" you hear, muffled through the panes. "For the barista spot?" you yell back. The guy nods under his hood, the rain picking up in heavy sheets. You sigh, unlocking the door and letting him in. "Carl's not here, he ran out to get some more milk but um, you're welcome to wait in the break room if you want," you explain, wiping a palm over another display through the main hallway and wiping the dust off on your hip. "Thanks," he says, hood coming down to reveal a head full of thick chestnut hair. A gold ring shines on the the hand that runs through it, looks like a family crest type, right on his middle finger.

"I'm Steve," he says with a smile, hand now outstretched to take yours. You look at it and then at him, finally taking in the sight before you. Prominent straight nose, warm amber eyes, lips that definitely use chapstick regularly. He has a nice smile, the kind you read about in the romance novels in the back of the store, the kind people write about.

You take his hand and introduce yourself, he has a business major handshake and you only know that because you dated a handful of them back in college. You try to stifle a chuckle but it comes out airily out of your nose.

"Something funny?" he asks when you both let go. "No, no, sorry, I just thought of something from the other day," you shake your head, "Don't worry about it." He nods, taking off his coat and closing his umbrella following your lead to the back, "It's a cute place."

"Yeah, it's nice in the morning," you nod, "I normally close but -- doing a favor for a key holder today; so you have the pleasure of seeing the troll of the store in her natural habitat."

"What?"

"Nothing -- nevermind," you shake your head, cheeks burning with a wave of embarrassment when you look back and notice that he's genuinely very handsome. You get to the break room, pointing out the spare cubby where he can hang his coat and umbrella. He's in a sweater you swear you've seen on the Cosby Show -- dark green and patterned, a perfect combination of colors against his skin. It cuffs at the wrists, you can see a sliver of his white t-shirt underneath at the collar, a whisper of a gold chain tucked beneath it.

"Yeah um," you start, feeling your heart start to patter in your chest when he takes a seat at the table by the cabinets, "You can just wait here. I'll let Carl know when he comes back."

"Okay," he smiles, "Thanks."

You nod again, heading into the employee bathroom to collect yourself for a moment -- seeing your reflection. You forgot you had rubbed your eyes, masacra smudged in black smears nearly down to your cheeks. "I look insane," you whisper in horror, "Oh my fucking god."

You cover your face for a moment, trying to hide yourself from the embarrassment racking your chest. Definitely looking like the troll of the store, you silently scream into your palms, another dramatic whisper of, "I should just fucking kill myself."

Despite the humiliation, you know it's funny. This would happen to you. This hot guy would come in when your mascaras a mess and your hair is fucked up from the rain, when the weather is bad and your tights have a run, when your allergies are rampant from the dust. Of course he would!

You wet a paper towel and do your best to wipe off the smudges, happy to look a little less insane after a dab of tinted lip balm makes it onto your lips and cheeks.

When you re-emerge he's fiddling with his CD player and his over ear headphones, working on a knot in the wire. You go back over to the counter and take a sip of your forgotten latte.

"What do you drink?" he asks.

"Carl makes it special for me, it's not on the menu," you tell him over the black plastic top before taking another sip. He grins, a soft nod moving his hair with him -- so it's like that. "I didn't ask if it was on the menu. I asked what you drink," he says, leaning back in the chair. His eyes lingering on you sends a zip up your spine, wondering if he's giving you a once over or not.

"It's a caramel latte with maple and cinnamon," you tell him. His confidence both intruiges and enrages you, both making you want to tell him to get out but also learn more about this hot guy that wants to be a barista with a Wall Street handshake, "So why do you wanna work here?"

"Is this the start of my interview?" he laughs.

"No, I'm just wondering," you shrug.

"I'm back in school about twenty minutes away," he says, "Did it for a little when I was in high school -- coffee, I mean. Ice cream shop after that, video store after that. Went to school, took a break, back in it. My dad thinks having jobs like this builds y'know -- character and whatever."

"Jobs like this?" you ask, jaw tensing with annoyance.

"Like, y'know, jobs with the people," he tries to explain, pink building on his cheeks when he realizes he might've said something shitty, "They're not like bad jobs, that's not what I mean -- I mean like, y'know -- not suits kind of jobs. Regular shit."

"Regular shit," you nod, biting back what you wanna say. That gold crest ring should've been enough to tip you off, but your next question is the ace in the hole, "What're you back in school for?"

"Getting my MBA."

Of course.

"Nice," you lie, fake smiling into your next sip -- the latte going cold as your insides when you come to the conclusion that he's just some hot grade A asshole, "Well, good luck."

"Thanks," he calls out while you make your way back to the floor, "I really like your name, by the way! It suits you."

You try not to let that compliment change your mind.

He gets the job, but you don't see him a lot. He opens an then goes to classes at night, you close most of the time -- only catching him really in the first hour of your shift and the last hour of his. You're both too busy to be finding time to talk; him with his mid-shift clean and you with your hourly sales goals and mid-day schedule re-adjustments.

But he does wave when you come in. He calls out your name when you bustle past the coffee counter and weave through the tables to get to where you need to go. It's nice of him, you guess, but the stain of him explaining that the job he's doing is just for regular people taints it for you. Maybe he thinks you're just some menial worker bee that he only knows for now, since his daddy probably has a job lined up for him once he pays through his masters degree.

Job with a suit where the bookstore will be a distant memory for him, whereas you're on a two year track to becoming the manager and likely future owner when the owners get too old to manage it. Job with a suit where he'll pass by the store and shake his head at 'how stupid it was', a 'can you believe people work there?' head toss to a coworker while he get a coffee somewhere else. Meanwhile, it's your entire life, and so are all the stories inside.

A few weeks pass and the days get a little colder, the nights starting earlier as they go. You have an opening shift that chills your bones, hugging your wool coat tight to your body while you fiddle with the key at the door, groaning at the tinkling of it hitting the concrete again.

"Rough morning?"

You look up to the door opening, seeing a pair clean white Nike Air Force 1's singaling who it is.

"It is now," you mumble, grabbing the key and bustling inside.

"Surprised to see you here," he says, following you to the back, "You're not on the schedule." "Last minute switch up, Rochelle has a christening," you say, hanging your coat in the cubby and switching out your sneakers for platfoms again.

"Oh, nice," he grins, "So why is it a rough morning? 'Cause I'm here?"

"Sorta kinda," you shrug, "Did you alread--"

"I got sales report from yesterday on the check out desk, yes," he crosses his arms, leaning against the door frame.

"And th--"

"And the inventory report, and before you ask, yes I checked that all the milk is in stock and that we aren't low on beans. I've been here for a month, honey, I know what I'm doing," he mutters.

"Gross," you pull a face at him over your shoulder, "Don't call me honey."

He shrugs with a smirk, "Rochelle likes it."

"Can you go skulk to your caffeine den and leave me alone?" you snap, "I'm trying to open a store, here."

"Skulk, huh?"

"Too big of a word for you, Harrington?"

"You're on fire this morning," he smiles, that smile they write about.

"I kinda like it," he adds before turning out of the door and back into the warm light of the store towards the coffee bar. You swallow while you watch him leave -- I kinda like it ringing in your ears and floating down to your chest where is settles in, cozy and kind.

The reports are where he said the would be, neat and organized like he was the manager and Carl was his employee. You normally spent at least thirty minutes trying to figure out what Carl had written in chicken scratch on the forms, but Steve's sharp and elegant script was easy to read and perfectly spaced. Annoying.

Even his signature was handsome.

After you get the registers counted and ready you file the forms and mark the reports so they'll be ready for your manager when they get back in store. You check the list of what needs to be done, the chilly late October air swooping in from the cracks under the door. Your face sours while you make your way over to the coffee bar in the back, seeing Steve set up the pastry delivery in the cases on the side.

"Did you come back here to yell at me about something?" he asks, focused on the task at hand, "I got all morning."

"You didn't turn the heat on," you cross your arms, "That's like, the first thing you're supposed to do."

He scoffs quietly, shaking his head, popping back up to lean on glass of the case, "Did you read your morning report or just sit there and admire my handwriting?"

"Excuse me?" you bite back.

"Heats fucked," he shrugs, ducking back down to finishing his display, "They're sending someone to take a look at it later today."

"Whatever," you grumble, turning on your heel to go dust the front shelving and reshelf the returns from yesterday.

"Hey," he calls out, waiting for you to turn around before he continues. Your eyes catch his amber ones, sparkling with a mischief reserved for school boys who are mean to the girls they like, "You look nice today."

You look him over, sucking in your cheeks to kill the smile growing on your lips. His navy sweater hugs a bit across his chest and shoulders, giving way to billow slightly over his midsection and arms. Kahki chinos cut just at his ankles so his sneakers don't even look stupid paired with the outfit, socks just the right height to look cool and not forced. Awful.

"Yeah, you too Harrington," you agree quietly before walking away; and while you killed the smile, he was able to catch that crease in your eyes, the twitch in your shoulders. You thought that was nice, he wonders if he can make you do that again.

You head over to the back of the cafe during your break, no windows near your designated 'break chair'. It's close enough to the fireplace that it always feels like a rainy day even when it's nice outside. Now that Carl started his shift he got your drink ready to go the moment you walked over.

"Well la-di-da," Steve cocks his head when Carl walks over to greet the customer at the register, rag in his hands wiping up the pick up counter, "Expert service and you're not even gonna tip?"

"Here's a tip: leave me alone when I'm on break," you bite. Why did he have to be so handsome? Slight pink on his cheeks from the heat of the espresso and coffee machines, the lights overhead. The heat finally works again and it's almost working too well from the small bead of sweat forming above his brow. He runs a big hand through his hair again, the same way he did when you first met him. You try to ingore the way his bicep bulges in his sleeve when his arm stretches.

His tongue runs over his teeth, settling between them for a second before looking straight at you, "Good one."

"That's what you get when you read books," you say sarcastically, "You should try it sometime."

"You should teach me," he leans over the counter, resting his chin on his palm, "Bet you're a great teacher."

You bite your tongue, pulling in your lips and squinting your eyes to keep the smile from brewing a second time. You pick up your mug and sip your latte while he crosses his arms over his chest. "Nothing this time?" he asks, waiting for you second blow. You shake your head no, occupying your mouth with the rim.

"No?" He asks, you shake your head again, somehow glued to the spot under his stare. He slings the rag over his shoulder, still looking at you. "Well I don't wanna keep you standing here," he teases, offering you a wink that is so soul crushingly charming you could just die, "Enjoy your break."

You've never turned around so quickly in your entire life.

The following week you take another opening shift, happy to settle into the quiet of the cafe now that the morning rush of moms, dads, students, and aspiring writers have cleared out. The fire crackles just right, the leather warmed up to your body heat while the book sucks you in further an further. Thirty minutes pass when you hear a shift infront of you, the subtle squeak of leather being sat in with a soft crunch.

"What're you reading?"

You peer over the top of the spine to see Steve sat in the chair across from you, legs open wide while he leans his forearms on his knees. His long fingers slide together, gold ring shining in the light again to remind you of who he is and where he comes from. As handsome as he is today in his black henley and white t-shirt combo you'll never quite forget the fact that some MBA bro is perched in front of you like a puppy with nowhere to go.

"Sound out the cover, that should tell you," you boredly mumble before tucking back into the chair. His fingers peak over the spine, pushing the book down from the top. He pulls the leather chintz closer to yours with ease -- of course he does.

"Or you could tell me," he says with a softness you weren't ready to hear. Your chest gets warm again, creeping up your neck to your cheeks.

"It's Pride and Prejudice."

"S'that your favorite book or something?" he asks, elbow driving into his thigh so he can rest his chin on his fist.

"One of them," you shrug, "I always read it this time of year, kind of fits the mood of the season."

"Hm," he nods, like he's really listening, "What's it about?"

"Basically," you start, thinking of a way to describe it in two sentences or less, "It's like -- hm -- it's about two people, a love story. One guy is some super rich asshole and he's a jerk because the girl isn't as rich and him. And the girl isn't from the same social standing so she's a jerk because she already assumes that he's a super rich asshole. Like...I don't know, idiots in love who are too stubborn to love each other."

"Hm," he nods again, grin splitting his face, "Interesting."

"What's your favorite book?" you ask, wanting to wipe that smug grin right off his face. His dumb handsome face with that perfect sloped nose, and eyes that look like they're looking directly into you.

"I don't have one," he shrugs.

"You have to have one," you balk, "Like, even if it's one you read in school or something." "Hmm," he sits back up, leaning back in the chair with his hands resting just under his chest.

"You have to know how to read to run a business," you shrug.

"I know how to read, honey," he laughs, "I just don't have a favorite book."

"At least try," you ecourage, albiet annoyed. He taps his fingers on his diaphragm, one knee bouncing while he thinks about it. His shirt rides up just a smidge in the back, revealing a sliver of skin you didn't think you'd ever see.

"Shel Silverstein," he says finally, "Where the Sidewalk Ends."

"You didn't strike me as a poetry guy," you say, closing your book over your finger to hold your place.

"My mom went through this poetry phase -- and I'm my mother's son, so I had a poetry phase with her," he shrugs, "We wore that book out, think we had to get a second copy cause the first one was just like -- destroyed."

"Well that's...you know," you lean your head from side to side, "That's nice. It's cute."

"You'd know, right?" he smiles, that god damn smile Shel would write about in a new book. You'd bring back book burning just to throw it in the flames after it was published. He gets up, disappearing behind you for a moment and reappearing with your favorite green mug. He gingerly places it on the side table next to you.

"Compliments of the chef," he says, presenting it like a Michelin star meal.

You look at it, a perfect pour -- the cream rosetta leaf striking against the warm brown espresso. You can smell the caramel and maple already wafting off it, cinnamon sprinkled delicately on top.

"Um, thanks," you say quietly, taking the mug to your lips. He looks down at you eagerly when you take a sip, waiting for your reaction.

"Did you do something to it?" you ask before you take one.

"No I'm just -- damn, come on. I'm excited to see you try it," he sighs, "I worked hard on it."

"Fine, fine," you murmur, letting the latte flood onto your tongue. Its -- regrettably -- one of the best iterations of you've had in a while. The perfect creaminess without being too milky, enough caramel and maple without being too sweet, the espresso's bitterness cuts the sugar in just the right way to make it smooth. He knows he did it right by the way you go for a second sip without saying anything.

"I did good?" he quirks a brow.

"You did good," you nod.

"Good," he smiles, tapping the top of your chair, "'Cause Carl's putting it on the menu starting in November."

"How come?" you ask into your third sip, the steam billowing over your cheeks.

Steve lets his eyes flicker over your face slowly, offering a half shrug, "I told him to."

November brings the first pre-season snow, not that it mattered now that your favorite drink was a regular menu item now. Caramel and maple always in stock, espresso machine always on first thing in the morning.

You open twice a week now, seeing Steve more often than not. Dropping your key became less common now that he was normally at the door when you'd get there, ready to let you in.

"Another great day, right?" he'd tease.

Now that the holidays were in full swing the bookstore was busier than ever -- sales, bundles, events. You even started carrying children's coloring books and crayons in the kid's section; a whole set up just for kids to sit and color while their parent's browsed.

The stress was getting to you, constantly checking and rechecking the end of day sales versus last year, wanting to make sure everything was on a steady incline with a nice cushion for the next. It helped that the cafe seemed to be absolutely climbing in numbers since September. More and more people wanted to spend time over there, and the more time they spent the more time they looked at books or started reading. It wasn't shocking to see people checking out at the counter with a second coffee and a new book or two in hand.

You don't want it to be true, but you're sure the new barista had a play in what makes so many people stick around. You'd see the way Steve would flirt when he took orders, how he's listen to them intently, make every customer feel like they were the only person in the room.

At least that's how he'd make you feel when he caught your gaze from over the shelving, helping find books for new patrons from the college nearby. You both started to wave at each other at each passing glance, each look caught by surprise, each accidental yearning stare.

Mid-November greets you with a bitter chill, the very early morning doesn't even have the decency to greet with you the rising sun. It'll be atleast another half hour until then.

For the first time in a long time you don't drop the key, pushing into the store with ease. You waste no time turning the heat on, making sure the radiators bled a bit before hand. You rub your hands together while they settle in, putting your coat away in the cubby and switching out your shoes in the break room.

Opening on a Saturday morning isn't common for you, but it's the first event you've planned by yourself. A very simple read-along story telling with some kids from the neighborhood and their parents. You collected three solid winter time reads: The Mitten, The Snowy Day, and A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving. A solid hour of reading while the parents could peruse, or sit and watch while their kids tuned into a book instead of cartoons on Nick Jr.

Once you've given yourself the onceover for the morning you feel more confident about the upcoming next few hours. Your knit tights fit snugly over your legs, a touch sheered out with the stretch over your thighs but the pleats in your plaid maroon skirt cover that just fine, hitting just above your knees -- still covered, still sensible. Still cute enough to snag a single dad if one were to show up.

Your feet stay tucked in a pair of worn in platform mary-janes stolen from your sister's New York City closet when you went to visit her over the summer. The chunky knit sweater over the whole ensemble completes you, a spitting image of a 'caught on the street' look you saw in a Seventeen magazine that you still get delivered to you despite being well past the age group.

You thrifted the sweater with Steve in mind, it looked like something he'd wear.

Anyway.

As you set up the 'reading rug' in the cafe area you hear the familar unlocking of the door. The sun finally starting to seep in in golden shards through the panes, leaving squares of light on the wood floors and carpets below.

"Hey Carl!" you call out, "I got everything up and running for you."

You hear the keys jingle but not his smoker's cough, not his heavy steps finding their way to the cafe area. Instead you look up to see Steve with his hands on his hips, watching you struggle to move the leather chintz to the back wall as your reading chair.

"Redecorating?" he asks, looking around the cafe. Under his shearling lined aviator jacket is an open hunter green flannel you wouldn't expect to see him in, his white t-shirt underneath hugs tights to his chest and stomach. You unfortunately noticed how great of a view that is for you.

"Um," you started, looking around the room and the dissaray you seem to have made without realizing, "Why are you here?"

"Same reason your here," he says, stepping forward to shoo you away from the chair, "I'm on the payroll."

"You don't work weekends," you say, crossing your arms over your chest while he lifts the chair over the rug with a soft grunt.

"I do today," he says with a slight strain, "Where do you want this?"

"Uh," you start, "Just right in the center against the wall so everyone can see me."

"Oh, so you're reading to the kids this morning?" he laughs to himself after putting the chair down. He wipes his hands off on each other, shrugging off the jacket and holding it in one arm, "Bitter Betty is gonna entertain the young minds of Main Street?"

"Bitter Betty, huh?" you challenge, following him into the back room, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what that's supposed to mean," he shakes his head.

"I am very sweet," you tell him, a serious edge to your voice, "There are so many customer reviews saying how sweet I am."

"Sure," he nods, putting his coat away in his cubby, "I bet there are; since y'know, you're selling them something."

"I'm not just nice when I'm selling something," you say softly, arms coming protectively across your chest. A frustration bubbles in your chest while you look at him, following him back out into the cafe so you can keep getting the place ready before the families start to show up, "You think you know everything."

"I don't," he shakes his head, smiling while he checks over the machines and gets the first pot of coffee started.

"Yeah, you do. You walked in here two months ago and swear you know everything," you huff, getting the cafe back to a place of organized coziness.

"Okay," he chuckles, "Whatever you say, boss."

"You're infuriating," you mumble under your breath.

"Got that caramel latte coming right up for you, by the way," he says warmly.

Your head turns to see him watching you, he smiles, "Maybe you're a little nicer after you've had a coffee."

You smile back, unable to stop it this time.

"So that's a yes, right?" he cocks his head, fingers drumming on the counter while he watches you. That Harringtom charm pumping out at full speed.

"Y-yeah," you nod, "Whatever. You gonna go chop down a tree, Harrington? What's with the flannel?"

He looks down at his shirt and then back up at you with a soft shake of his head, "I better hurry up and get that started for you."

The kids look up at you with starry eyes, their parents smiling along with their coffees, lattes, espressos, and pastries. The Mitten was a hit and The Snowy Day is so far showing up to be a great follow up.

You take your time to really point out the pictures and adding on to the story since all three of them are pretty short. However, you're finding that kids between two and five are pretty easy to entertain if you do enough counting and make enough sound effects. Maybe you should've been a kindergarten teacher -- or maybe not. Maybe you should just keep doing book events.

You're halfway through when you show the illustrations to the group again, listening to them ooh and ahh at all the snow.

"Did um -- Miss -- did you know -- it snowed? It snowed at my house," one of the older kids announces, arm straight up in the air.

"It snowed last week, Michael, that's right," his mom pipes up, "Daddy had to shovel outside."

"Has everyone else seen snow? Raise your hand if you've seen this much snow!" you announce in your perfect parentese, watching while the older kids and parents raise their hands. The two year olds don't really get it so they just sit there and laugh.

You look up at all the hands, an enthusiastic 'Wow!' coming out of your mouth -- but you barely hear it. Behind the hands are a set of warm amber eyes looking at you from the coffee bar, soft and gentle. Enthralled even. You swallow and lick your lips quickly before smiling, catching his smile back as you look back at the book to start again.

After each couple of pages you catch each other, the pink on his cheeks rising when he looks away -- pretending to be occupied with something else. Cleaning, organizing, resetting the espresso machine. He can tell you're flustered by the way you clear your throat whenever you start to read again.

After The Snowy Day you take a ten minute break so that the parents can take their kids to the bathroom or re-up their beverages. The tip jar is full to bursting because nobody knows how to make a single mom feel like Steve Harrington does; and husbands will pay anything to get him to leave their wives alone.

You reset your chair, making sure the books you're reading are on display for purchasing on the shelving close by in your Winter Children's Bundle for a discounted price. As the ten minutes closes up you feel a soft tap on your shoulder.

"Here," you turn around to Steve with a green mug in his hands, "It's just regular coffee this time, but -- figured you could use it."

You take it body first, reaching around for the handle only to feel his fingers brush against yours at the hand of. The soft touch isn't electric like it is in the books, it's like that but better. Warm like an oven, the gooey parts of you rising in a slow bake when you see him look down and turn away -- running that same hand through his hair on his way back to the counter.

"Thanks," you say over the chatter of parents and kids coming back to sit.

"Can I have something ready for you for your break?" he asks back.

"Surprise me," you shrug, sitting back on your chintz chair and taking the final book onto your lap. The kids cheer when they see Snoopy on the cover, a well loved favorite cartoon to finish off their morning. With the crack of the spine you can already smell the sales coming once this little event is over.

You work through your break, ringing up and helping customer after customer on easily one of the busiest Saturday's you've seen in a while. It normally doesn't get busy like this at least for another couple of weeks.

The stress of working through lunch barely matters though because your event was a bigger success than you could've hoped for -- logging in the notes for Rochelle that you should probably start doing this throughout the season just for good measure.

It's starting to get dark by the time your shift ends and the store closes -- early on Saturdays at a tight 4 PM. You let your sales girl go a little early, wanting to take the time to close up the store properly since you were the one who made it such a mess this morning. As you start to put the chairs back that had been moved from the cafe to the children's section you hear him, fingers tapping on the counter.

"You didn't come by for your break," he says, "And I put a lot of effort into that drink."

"Sorry, we can't all be flirting through our shifts like you can, Harrington," you snark with a grin, flipping the last chair over onto it's accompanied table.

"You don't have to clean up the coffee part of the store," he says, coming around with another mug in hand, "That's my job, y'know."

"I know," you say, "But I kind of fucked it up this morning so -- just doing my part."

"Well, here," he says, mug outstretched in his large hand, gold ring gleaming back at you, "For doing your part, I guess."

"You guess, huh?" you laugh lazily, taking it -- he places his fingers in a way that you have no choice but to touch them. You wonder if he did it on purpose, "What do you call this one?"

"'Surprise me'," he replies in a mocking drawl, flipping the rag over his shoulder again and leaning against the counter's edge. The first sip is unfortunately one of the most even temperatured hot drinks you've put past your lips.

"You're good at this," you blurt out, almost offended.

"Well don't look so upset about it."

"I am upset about it," you nod back over the lip of the mug, taking another sip. Mocha -- something. It's like hot chocolate and espresso but better, still caramel, still cinnamon, like a hug from your past but caffienated like your present.

"Consider me surprised," you nod, licking your lips again, "It's good -- it's um -- yeah. It's really good."

"Thanks," he smirks, "A few of the mom's thought so, too."

You let out a sigh through your teeth, rolling your eyes. He expected that, taking a step forward when your gaze comes back to center. You can smell the left over wraiths of his cologne and Old Spice deodorant, count the moles on his neck adorned with his hidden gold chain, see the hair on his forearms from his rolled up sleeves.

"You know something," he says quietly, "If I didn't know any better -- I'd think you like me."

"Like you?" you balk, eyes widening, "You wish."

He clicks his tongue when you get so defensive because it just proves him right. He crosses his arms with another step forward, head cocking to the side slightly while he sizes you up. Why did his creator need to make his forearms so beefy? So perfectly sculpted that you can't look at them without losing your train of thought? Stupid.

"I don't think I have to wish, honey," he says softly, Doc Martins creaking on the wooden floors, "I think...uh, I think I must allow you to tell me how ardently you admire and like me."

Your mouth falls open, staring at him with eyes as glassy at the kids who watched you read this morning.

"You -- no -- you read it?"

"Maybe," he says, another step forward, his arms bumping against your chest.

"Maybe?" you ask back, brow quirking.

"Yeah, maybe I did," he runs a hand through his hair, falling back away from his face to show off his sturdy brow bone, watching you with admiration down the slope of his nose.

He reaches down and takes the mug out of your hand with smooth finesse, arm long enough to reach back and place it on the counter behind him. When he leans back in place he's closer than before, toe to toe, nearly nose to nose.

"Maybe I bought it the day you told me about it," he shrugs, "Maybe I thought it was pretty close to something I had goin' on with a girl I know."

"A girl you know?" you challenge. You know exactly who he means, but it might be fun to hear him say it. "Yeah, sometimes I only see her like, an hour a day. But sometimes I get to watch her read on her break, sometimes I get to close with her on Saturdays," he explains warmly, the timbre of his voice deep against the crackling of the fire in the back corner of the cafe.

"This is the only Saturday you've closed with me," you counter, head tilting up slightly, close enough that the tip of your nose brushes his.

"Who said I was talking about you, honey?" he murmurs back, mischief in his eyes that are half hidden by his eyelids. You feel a puff of his breath over your top lip, still minty fresh like he just brushed his teeth.

"We both know you're talking about me," you smirk, self satisfied while his gaze flickers to your lips and back to your eyes. He steps at an angle, making you step back so you're against the pick up counter.

"So sure of yourself," he he scoffs quietly, leaning over you and getting into your space. Each hand coming to the side of you to lean on the granite, caging you in, "I like that in a pretty girl."

"Most do," you shrug matter of factly.

"Yeah," he nods, "Think that's what I like about you."

"Maybe that's what I like about you, too," you nearly whisper out.

"Maybe?" he asks, lower lip ghosting over yours. "Mayb--"

The hand he uses to run through his hair finds itself flat over the back of yours, sliding down to over your cheek and jaw where he keeps you angled just right. He closes the millimeters between you, warm lips catching yours in a kiss that feels like passion but a power play you want to match.

Your hands find their way to his shoulders, heads moving in soft tilts when you change angles. When you find yourself sat on the edge of the counter he uses the leverage to pull you close to him, hips between the fullness of your thighs.

His tongue skates over yours when it slides into your mouth, free hand ridding up the soft material of your tights, tips of his fingers inching under the hem of your skirt in an innocent tease.

Even the way he breathes through it is sexy, leaving you with a lingering guess of what he can do when he presses his lips against your neck. Tongue flitting and striping while he nearly nips a bruise onto your skin. You let out a gentle gasp, enough to admit defeat to him -- much to your chagrin. Steve comes back up to your lips to meet you with a few final deep kisses before you break apart.

He steps back once, the deep golden light of the sun setting cracks through the panes of the back window in the cafe, adoring him in a glow that shines of his hair and eyes. The kind of glow they write about, the kind of glow you read about.

You both take deep breaths, eyes hungry for each other -- unsure if you should go for more. He lingers, coming forward again to rest his hands on your thighs.

"I didn't read it," he confesses. "Pfffft. Why am I not surprised?" you huff, exasperated.

"But! But, but, but," he argues back, pecking you feverishly, "I had to go to like, five different places to find the movie from 1980 so -- I did actually put some effort into it."

"I love that one," you say back.

"I get points for that, right?" he asks expectantly.

"Yeah, fine. You're luck you're cute," you explain, "But you do definitely have to read it, at some point. If you wanna keep making out with me in the cafe after closing."

"Oh, absolutely," he grins, hand reaching to pull you in by the back of the neck for a final searing kiss, "You'll have to teach me, remember?"

You of course start closing together every single Saturday.

masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi

[follows-the-bees]

Filmmaking analysis time!

How cinematography, blocking, and camerawork in S2 eps 6&7 show Ed's and Stede's emotions.

Since season one, red has been used to show the love for each other: the red of the silk and Stede's new red shirt in both moon scenes. We also know that purple comes out more as Ed falls in love with Stede.

So let's talk about Calypso's Birthday and Man on Fire.

The lighting during this scene is full of color, the reds, purples, and blues. Besides being classic bi lighting, it incorporates the red and purple that we know represents Ed's and Stede's love.

They are swimming in it. Yet, they aren't the same blockingwise, they aren't as close as last season, there is still stuff between them that needs to be spoken. They are standing by each other, their bodies turned inward, and a giant red flower sits bright and center between them, showing how large and full the love they have for each other is.

These purples and reds diminish when Ned Lowe crashes the party. His presence brings a screeching halt to the healing and good times the crew and particularly Ed and Stede are having. He not only crashes the party but right before Ed and Stede were about to dance. This giant wrecking ball that symbolizes Ed's pirate past brings in the harsh blue and green lighting and ups the trauma for both men. Green lighting is used to show that things are off, it is off-putting and fills the scene and audience with unease.

Gif credit

The purple lighting stays very subtle during this whole scene, but as Ned insults everyone, and brings up all of the still unspoken insecurities of the men, the blue shines more, especially on Stede as he makes his choice to have Ned walk the plank. We see immediately how that affects Stede, his trauma comes roaring back, he's shaking, and has tears in his eyes. He retreats back to his cabin.

Ed on the other hand is also experiencing trauma here. While helping out and being around Stede, he has been treading water, trying to figure out what he actually wants in life. And the embodiment of that, when he was at his lowest after S1, when he was trying to break the record has come back to taunt him and the man he loves. He chooses to check in on Stede.

This is when the lighting and camerawork change. We are now inside and the lighting is warm, glowing from candlelight. Ed has a yellow glow behind him when Stede opens the door, like he is the beacon of light in this storm of emotion and trauma that Stede is experiencing from his decision to kill Ned. To cross that boundary when with the rest of the crew he used his usual positive people management style.

Pay attention to their positions here, cause this upcoming choice makes this scene feel off. The pull into the room and the subsequently slam into the wall and kiss are flipped. Along with the quick movements in each shot, this triggers a little part of our brain that realizes something is off even if we don't know why. Read more about the mirror shot in this meta analysis.

When Ed and Stede decide to be together for the first time, to numb the traumatic pain in their desperation and love for each other the lighting is different. It turns a warming orange/yellow glow, showing the softness of the situation.

These men desperately love each other and want to be together. They both agree to this night, Stede pauses before kissing Ed, waits until Ed nods his head and gives consent then pulls Stede in.

And when Stede closes the curtains, the lighting is back to red and purple. The two colors symbolizing the love these two have for each other.

In the morning, the bright yellow lighting is back. The beautiful morning sky in the background looks serene and idyllic, but it also puts our characters in a shadowy haze in the foreground.

They are still in the warmth, the afterglow of being together. Ed gets nervous and brings Stede breakfast in bed. (A parallel to Doug and Mary). They have an intimate conversation where Ed opens up about seeing mermaid Stede while in Purgatory. They have now been intimate in all forms of the word.

But there is still something off, just like with the mirrored images. Stede is shirtless, open, feeling safe. Ed has ditched his leather clothing, his Blackbeard persona, and is now in fine clothing. And I can't confirm but the inside of the robe looks purple. But his robe is closed, which can be read as still hesitant, even if it's subconscious. And they have the same body language of all of the last episode. They are sitting apart, not touching, but still comfortable facing and leaning into each other.

And this bliss continues outside where they open up more. The lighting is bright, pretty, they are surrounded by greens and tans, glowing still. Stede tells him about the multiple letters in bottles he has written. They are opening up about things but they are still avoiding what needs to be talked about - the trauma, their different paths that seem to be emerging.

And then finally, when the fight happens, all of the uneasiness from the mirrored shot, the close but not yet close enough body language, all of these choices come crashing down just like the relationship.

The light is muted. They have spent part if not all of the day apart. So the lighting indicates that it is approaching sunset not only in time but in their relationship, the foreshadowing of Ed breaking up with Stede and leaving.

Ed has already made up his mind. He is leaving to be a fisherman. He thinks what happened the night before - and by that - the moving too fast part was a mistake. While they both love and want each other, Ed is self sabotaging - in a direct parallel of last season - thinks he has ruined Stede, spiralling and choosing like he's done in the past to completely run away from the darkness. He needs to learn that he can embrace both (all) sides of himself without losing himself.

Stede tries to save it. Responds to Ed saying "this can be whatever we want it to be." But then things escalate, things aren't explained. Stede doesn't realize what the fish means to Ed, and saying he lied about the quality of the fish is Ed's view of them, "they are the fish."

They need to talk, about what they want, their diverting paths, finding common ground, and learn how to be in this relationship.

They believe the exact opposite of the truth. Ed thinks he's ruined Stede and that Stede won't love him if he's not Blackbeard (the chin convo!) And Stede thinks he isn't good enough for Ed (and everyone, that is why he goes a little crazy when people recognize him - in a direct parallel to Ed during the dinner party in 1x5.) And Ed doesn't love his softness.

All the lighting reaffirms just how much these two love each other, but the blocking, mirrored camerawork, and fast movements show the underlying unresolved tension that has been building up and ultimately leads to this rift.

[red40overdose]

hey baaabe, can you maybe write tae or jimin falling for oc whos also an idol but they cant really show it to anyone? 🥹

A/N: I will write Tae with a proper secret relationship but for now I present to you……

IDYLLIC

IDOL!JIMIN X IDOL!GN!READER

Synopsis: Jimin has a rule. A code if you will. Under no circumstances will he ever date another idol. He's lived by it for many years. Not once has he ever been close to breaking it. Until he met you that is.

W/C: 2.2k

WARNING: Jimin struggling with his feelings slight angst

REQUESTS: OPEN

It wasn't ideal. In an industry like Jimins you don't have time for relationships. A lot of the time you don't even have the mental energy. There was too much to work around.

You don't want to date a fan. They already have a version of you built up in their head. One that would quickly prove itself untrue.

If you do manage to find someone who doesn't know who you are that too can become a disaster. Paparazzi lurk behind every corner. The whole relationship is forced into secrecy. It could ruin your career, it could ruin your partner's life. It isn't good for a relationship. Most people need more. They want to go out on dates. They want normalcy, not to be hidden deep in a closet like dirty laundry.

There were other idols… one look at an idol of the opposite sex and the media would be pumping out articles about a secret love affair. Every week someone would come up to Jimin asking about an idol he hadn't even spoken to.

That was only part of it. Companies would clash. Some companies would push a narrative to try and profit off it.

In the Idol industry, two idols dating was taboo. Some sort of curse that ran rampant through the industry. People would talk behind their backs. Send sympathetic looks to the poor souls that fell victim to it. It was hard as an idol not to fall for another. Idols ended up being around other idols quite a bit. People have needs and when you're surrounded by attractive people it's hard not to go seeking comfort.

Another idol would know what you're going through. They could understand things regular people never could.

But it always ended badly. The media loved it. It was a drama that kept people clicking. So the cameras kept flashing.

So Jimin did the sensible thing. He swore off dating. Of course, every now and then he would find himself in someone's bed. But it never was more than that.

He would risk his and his members career on a scandal. Jimin knew he wouldn't be able to balance a relationship and everything else like Namjoon does. He would slip up when he knew he would. It was easier to just not even try. It was better this way.

For a long time it worked. Jimin managed. He wasn't tempted. He was good.

Until you waltzed into his life. It was at a photoshoot. You were also set to get photographed by the same photographer.

Your shot was before his. As luck would have it, Jimin had arrived early and the staff invited him back.

He had seen you before. Your face was plastered over posters and billboards all across Seoul. None of it could compare to you in real life. None of them, not even the best photos that got the front page of magazines, came close to capturing all of you.

Jimin couldn't tear his eyes away from you as you posed. Your eyes strayed from the camera and settled on him for one brief flickering moment and that's all it took for Jimin to know he was a goner.

Then as if you hadn't even seen him at all your eyes settled back on the camera. Jimin hightailed it out of there and into the break room.

Water. He needed water. That's it, he was probably just dehydrated. Jin was always getting on his case about drinking more water. Something to drink and he would be just fine.

He had just cracked open the bottle and was about to take a sip when he heard you.

“Hey it's Jimin right?”

Slowly almost like a scene out of a movie Jimin turned. Only a few feet behind him there you were. Still in all the glam required for the photoshoot, obviously you had just finished. Jimin swallowed dryly, wishing he had drunk the water already. His tongue was sticking to the rook of his mouth. He managed one shaky nod.

“I'm Y/N.”

“I know.” Great, he had finally managed to say something and he sounded like an asshole.

You took it in stride, or maybe you just hadn't noticed

“Sorry for making you wait. Had some wardrobe issues so we went a little over time,” You said sheepishly.

Then as if it was the most natural thing in the world you reached around him and grabbed one of the water bottles on the counter.

Instantly your scent surrounded Jimin. His breath hitched before he settled on just holding his breath. This close he could see the rise and fall of your chest with each breath. He could see the smallest crease in your eye makeup, probably from laughing.

You leaned back like nothing had happened at all. Like you hadn't just thrown Jimin's code and way of life out the window. You hadn't noticed a thing at all.

Jimin's photo shoot didn't go as well as they usually did. His mind was elsewhere, his poses a little sloppy as he tried to listen to the staff. But everything just felt like static noise.

Ever since then you seemed to be everywhere. Or maybe Jimin was just now noticing your presence.

You were at every party. Every formal event. Always dressed exquisitely. Always looking perfect. Always distracting him.

The rest of his members took notice. They would cast each other looks every time Jimin's eyes strayed back to you.

Jimin tried his hardest not to think of you. To cast every thought of you from his mind. He would turn off the T.V if you came on screen. He would turn off his phone every time you were trending.

Yet everywhere he went. You were there. When he got seated next to you in a fashion stone all he could do was sit stone still. He listened to you gush about the pieces with your friend and it just made everything ten times worse.

Occasionally you would turn to Jimin and try to make small talk. Everytime you two were in the vicinity of him you tried to talk to him. Maybe you were just being polite but Jimin couldn't help but relish in it.

It was so unnatural for him. Jimin was used to making others flustered, not the other way around. He just had that effect, yet this time all of it was turned around on him.

All of it came to its peak on New Year's eve. Hoseok had insisted on throwing a party. Only certain people were invited. Mostly other Idols the group trusted and some personal friends.

You made an appearance. Something Jungkook who had made the guest list failed to mention.

You were beautifully done up and hanging off the arm of one of your friends. The two of you looked so comfortable together. You fit into that spot so perfectly Jimin started to wonder if the two of you were dating.

The thought made him so uncomfortable that he had to turn away. Jimin just missed the look Jungkook gave him.

Jimin poured himself a drink, the first one of the night.

“You alright man?” Jungkook asked.

“Yeah why?” Jimin took a sip and winced at the sharp taste of alcohol and way to sweet juice. Damn Taehyung and his strange drink concoctions.

“I dunno. Lately you've seemed…” Jungkook paused, not sure how to put it, “Strange. You know you can talk to me right? Any of us?”

He wanted to. So badly. He wanted to ramble endlessly about you. How you always managed to look so perfect. How you helped the staff that one time you spilt a drink. How you always kept a calm composure when something clearly ticked you off. How he thought about you every waking hour.

But he couldn't. They all knew about his code. How he felt about dating, especially dating another idol.

Jimin was afraid that he would agree. They would tell him it wasn't a good idea. Not worth the trouble. And then he wouldn't. Because he respected the options of his members, even if it killed him inside.

Yet he was also afraid they would tell him to stop being stupid. To go for it. That even if it ends horribly at least he had you. Even if it was for a little bit. If they held that opinion… Jimin didn't know what he would do.

So he settled on “I'm fine, just stressed about this next album.”

Jimin could tell Jungkook didn't buy it. Not even for a second. Not wanting to be questioned, Jimin slinked off to go find Jin and to avoid you.

He managed well. Jin was in the kitchen over seeing Taehyung's new drink ideas.

You were easy to avoid. Jimin could easily spot your form in the crowd. Pick out your laugh in the cacophony of voices.

Halfway through the party Namjoon came and found him, “Hey Min can you go grab the bottle of tequila I left out on the balcony? My hands are kind of full.”

Namjoon gestured with an arm full of coats. Jimin didn't even notice that most of the coats were the groups, which had already been started away in their respective closets.

“Oh so it's a tequila kind of party?” Jimin said with a smirk before he pushed himself away from the counter.

He worked his way through the crowd before he reached the glass doors leading out to the balcony. Jimin spotted the bottle, sitting on the patio table. He slipped out to quickly grab it.

But what he failed to notice was you, arms crossed and leaning over the balcony. Gazing up at the stars.

Jimin noticed you only a split second before you turned around.

“Oh hey Jimin,” you greeted. It was too late now for him to scamper back into the party.

“Hey. What are you doing out here?”

“Oh you know. Just needed a break from the party.”

Jimin hummed in acknowledgement.

“Care to join me?” You turned back around to look at the night sky once more.

“Well Namjoon asked me to-” Jimin looked over his shoulder back at the glass doors. What he saw cut his sentence short.

Yoongi was staring at him with a devious little smirk. When their eyes met Yoongi reached forward and turned the lock on the door.

God damn him. Jimin gestured widely at Yoongi, willing him to unlock the door. It's not like he could yell out and demand him to. Not with you standing there.

With a cheeky smile and wave Yoongi slinked off into the crowd. Leaving Jimin stranded on the patio with you.

“Do I bother you?” You asked.

Jimin swung back around so quickly he almost gave himself whiplash. You hadn't turned back around but there was a noticeable tension in your shoulders.

“What?” Jimin said bewildered, “No? What makes you say that?”

“It just seems like you've made it your life mission to avoid me.”

Jimin was starting to wish he had accepted the third drink Tae tried to shove into his hands. He could really use the extra liquid courage right now.

Damnit. Jimin thought to himself. Get it together. You're a grown man. Jimin Park.

Jimin breathed out a deep breath and came to rest against the railing with you. His eyes focused on the cityscape in front of you two. He couldn't trust himself to look directly at you. He might jump onto you and never let you go.

“I don't…. Dislike you.”

“Well it sure seems like you do.” You said quietly.

Jimins heart panged. This wasn't what he wanted.

“I'm sorry…”

“Listen. I know we don't know each other. And we don't have to. Let's just be civil? It's hard in this industry.”

No no no. This is NOT what he wanted. Not how he planned this to be. Jimin didn't want to be civil, he wanted to be yours.

“I want to… know you.”

“You don't have to spare my feelings Jimin.”

Jimins head whipped around. You still hadn't looked at him. Your jaw was clenched and your bottom lip was quivering as if you were about to cry.

“I'm not! I'm really not, Y/N I-” Jimin took a deep breathe “I like you. I really do.”

You were silent.

“I don't date…” Jimin said after a moment.

“Oh….Jimin…I really think I like you too… But I don't do hookups.” You said slowly.

“That's not what I meant… I mean usually I don't date. But I can't stop thinking about you. You make me want to throw that rule away and never look back.”

There were some cheers from the party. Then the countdown started.

You turned to face Jimin head on. Your eyes met his for the first time since he came out to the patio.

“Three!”

Jimin swallowed and his eyes flickered down to your lips.

“Two!”

“Jimin. Will you kiss me?”

“One!”

He pressed his lips to yours as cheers echoed out from the party.

[bloglophop]

“Beating the heat”

Kuzan x fem afab reader

A little trade with @skullfacedlady

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ❄️་༘࿐

Content: NSFW/MDNI, cockwarming, face sitting, size difference, established relationship, smut and fluff, beach sex, unprotected sex, coming together

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ❄️་༘࿐

Even the shade of your beach umbrella had done little to lessen the heat from the scorching sun up above.

Since he travelled quite a bit, Kuzan knew a lot of places across the Grand Line to avoid, but he also knew some such as this beach, where it was quiet, private, idyllic and clean. Just the two of you, surrounded by miles and miles of sand and sea.

You had no idea how long you’d been like this. Sweat dripped down your back, your front cooled by your boyfriend as you relaxed flat against Kuzan’s chest, practically lying down on top of him. His eyes were closed behind his sunglasses, and with all the still and quiet between you, one could have easily mistaken him for being asleep, if it weren’t for the way his thumbs were slowly rubbing circles over your hips.

If it weren’t for the occasional shift of his hips as he adjusted his cock, sunk practically up to the hilt into your pussy.

The world had dimmed into a hazy, comfortable blur. Kuzan’s powers were keeping you nice and cool, the only heat coming from the arousal that was knotted in your gut and the slick that was dripping out from between your thighs. He hadn’t even bothered to take his swim trunks off, just haphazardly shimmied them halfway down before guiding you onto his cock, getting you as close to him as physically possible.

Kuzan was a big man. It wasn’t exactly easy to fit him, but he was never impatient with you. He liked to sit you in his lap, liked to use his fingers first, stretching you out, drinking in your breathy moans and shudders as you ground yourself down against his touches, your hands impatiently wandering down to palm him through his clothing. Sometimes he’d allow it, other times, like today, he’d still your movements by effortlessly holding your wrist in place, kissing your jaw with a firm but gentle “Wait.”

Now as you lay there, feeling the comfortable stretch of his cock inside you, it was starting to feel like all you’d been doing was waiting. Not that it didn’t feel good- it felt amazing, the position and his touches sending languid waves of pleasure through your body, but as you blinked away the sleepy lull that had come over you from cockwarming him for so long, you were starting to need a little more.

Testing the waters by shifting your hips, you then began to slowly pull yourself up and down, gasping softly as your body adjusted to the new movement, feeling the way his cock throbbed inside you at the stimulation.

“Had enough?” Kuzan lifted his head. You didn’t need to see his eyes to know he was studying you from behind his sunglasses.

“Need more,” You huffed, swallowing thickly as you sank yourself down onto his cock again. Staying still and sitting with it inside you was one thing, riding him was another. You were lucky Kuzan wasn’t a particularly rough or spirited guy when it came to sex, because even now you could feel the press of his thick cock against your stomach and it made you shudder, your head completely clearing up from your previous tiredness as you slid your hips up and down.

Your movements encouraged a soft, low sigh from Kuzan as he dropped his head back against the comfortable beach towel you were on. You gazed at him, wetting your lips before speaking.

“…should I stop?” Your voice came out a little more strained than you meant it to. You were clearheaded now and desperate for some action, you couldn’t take another hour of small touches and gentle kisses.

“Nah.” Kuzan responded.

You had to fight not to get a little cross at his flippant reply, instead choosing to get playful, pressing a kiss and then a small nip to the crook of his neck before pulling back to look at him.

“Nah?” You repeated, quirking a brow at him.

“Nah. Just working myself up to do this.” Kuzan placed his hands on your hips, and in one swift movement lifted you all the way off his cock, bringing you to hover just inches above his face with your legs spread apart. The sudden loss of his stretch inside you had you gasping, your chest squeezing as you fought to regain composure, gazing down at his languid, hungry expression.

“This okay, sweetheart?” Kuzan inclined his head ever so slightly, a relaxed smile on his face.

“Yes-“ You nodded hurriedly, resisting the urge to push your hips down towards him. “Please.”

Kuzan didn’t hesitate, lowering you down close enough that you could feel his breath, hot against your soaked entrance, before licking a slow stripe up from your hole to your clit. You gasped, a shiver of relief and of need running through you, every subsequent lick of his making you keen softly. Glancing down at Kuzan you saw his eyes closed, brows furrowed softly in concentration as each slow movement somehow left you feeling more and more worked up than before he started touching you.

“Kuzan-“ You groaned, begin to squirm a little in his grip. “C’mon, stop- stop being such a tease…”

“Hm?” Kuzan raised his head from between your thighs, gazing up at you through his lashes. “Thought this was what you wanted?” The sound of his voice, so low and playful, sent heat pooling straight to your gut.

“I need more-“ You were aware of how strained your voice sounded. “Please, Kuzan, just- more, please.”

Kuzan pressed a kiss to your thigh, and you could feel him smiling against your skin.

“No need to beg for it.” He murmured. “Alright. Come here.”

Kuzan finally lowered you to sit all the way on his face, causing you to emit a soft whimper at the sudden proximity of his mouth to your soaked pussy. You could feel his tongue working between your folds, licking and sucking at your clit before turning his attention back to your hole.

“Ah- oh, gods-“ You gasped, your hands moving to dig into his hair, finding purchase so you didn’t topple or keel over in pleasure. “Feels good- ah- so good-“

Kuzan hummed in appreciation, the vibrations only further adding to the bodily pleasure you felt as he ate you out. His movements were slow, sloppy, languidly using his tongue on you, tasting your delicious moans and strangled whimpers. Your stomach began to feel tight and hot, grinding down against his tongue, pressing his face between your thighs as you approached your climax. Kuzan continued steadily, listening to your telltale gasps, rubbing his thumbs in circles against your hips as you got closer and closer.

“Oh, oh fuck-“ you stammered out, but before you could complete your sentence or your orgasm, Kuzan had lifted you up again, hovering you over his face, denying you his touch where you needed it the most.

“Kuzan- what-“ Your throat tightened up, staring down at him in disbelief and anger and sheer need as he held your shaking body effortlessly above him. Kuzan gazed up at you, a small smile playing on his lips as he ran his tongue over them, cleaning off the mess you’d made on his mouth.

“I was so close-“ You felt hot irritation welling up in your chest, humiliation at being denied for no good reason.

“Yeah, I know.” Kuzan interrupted, clicking his tongue. “So am I.”

In a swift movement he rolled over, pinning you with your back flat against the beach towel, his hands either side of your shoulders as you felt his rock hard cock brushing up against the inside of your thigh. Your breath escaped you momentarily as you gazed up at him, meeting his lidded gaze, eyes swimming with lust as they roamed across your body.

“Gonna make you cum with me, okay?” Kuzan bent down, pressing a kiss to your flushed cheek, then lowering to press a kiss to your neck.

“Okay” You breathed, unable to hold back the small whimper that escaped your throat as you felt his tip pressing up against you.

“You’re alright” Kuzan murmured, pressing a few more reassuring kisses to your warm skin, his cold lips acting as a soothing balm. “You were taking it just fine earlier. Gonna go slow.” He glanced down, then back up to meet your gaze.

“Spread yourself open for me?” He nodded at you. Though you huffed at his laziness, the blatant and somewhat vulgar request had you flushing as you reached a hand down, using two fingers to hold yourself open as a guide.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Kuzan grinned, and with that, you felt him sliding into you, his cock stretching out your aching hole, perfectly filling you with the size you’d gotten from acting as his little lap toy just previously.

That didn’t mean it wasn’t overwhelming, though. His size still took your breath away, making you wrap your arms around his neck as he sheathed himself inside of you. You heard his quiet groan at the way you squeezed so perfectly around his sensitive cock, his gaze filled with heady arousal.

“That’s it…” Kuzan huffed, feeling your scrabble to wrap your legs around him, bringing him in even closer, feeling that same heat in your gut return as he began to move at a steady, lax pace.

“Ah-“ You let out a quiet whimper, feeling him get deep enough to press against your abdomen before pulling back and fucking into you all over again at a languid, sloppy pace. “It’s so deep-“ you breathed, looking up at him, your arms tightening around his neck.

“Too deep?” Kuzan murmured, his cock twitching with arousal at the sight of you stretching to accommodate him, struggling just enough with his size to toe the line between overwhelm and perfection.

“No, no,” You shook your head. “It’s so good, please don’t stop, I’m so close, god…”

“That’s my girl.” Kuzan hummed appreciatively. “Come on. You can do it.”

Whether you could or couldn’t, you were so close there was hardly any thought in the matter now, just desperate need as he began to chase down his own orgasm whilst bringing you closer to yours.

Kuzan sank himself into you over and over, his hips slowly beginning to stutter, movements finally slipping from relaxed to purposeful as he fucked you, exchanging kisses between ragged pants and gasps.

“I’m-“ You couldn’t help it, the orgasm that had been sneaking up on you for so long was finally right there and you were overcome with desperation. Digging your nails into Kuzan’s back, you buried your face into the crook of his neck. “I’m so close, I’m so, so close” you practically sobbed, falling apart at his slow ministrations. All it took was Kuzan shifting his position, angling his hips a little steeper, his cock thrusting up against that perfect spot, and you were gone. Clawing against him, clinging to him, you squeezed your eyes shut as you moaned out a stuttered version of his name, feeling the way he continued to thrust into you through it.

Kuzan’s pupils were dilated to full as he watched you come, his usual sleepy expression sparking with rampant desire at your sweet noises and the way your pretty face contorted as you cried out for him. This in combination with the way your orgasm had you contracting, squeezing and milking his cock so perfectly, and Kuzan was gone.

“Fuck-“ He gripped your hips, grunting raggedly and pulling you as close as possible as he emptied himself inside of you.

“Kuzan- Kuzan-!” You were gasping, your head swimming with pleasure as you grappled with taking his orgasm whilst still coming down from your own. Your head flopped back against the beach towel, watching the way Kuzan’s lips fell open to emit gruff, breathless noises at the feeling of you around his thick, sensitive cock.

“Mm…” Kuzan hummed, gazing down at you. “That’s my sweetheart.” He leaned down, his body resting on top of yours, capturing your lips in a deep, cool kiss. You could still taste yourself on his tongue, and the notion made you squeeze involuntarily around him.

“Still need more?” Kuzan chuckled, pulling away to study you.

“No, no,” You breathed, reaching up to press your cheek to his. He was making himself cooler on purpose now, helping both of you beat the heat of the sun and the activity you’d just been doing together.

“Want me to keep it inside you?” Kuzan asked, a small smile playing on his lips. He knew exactly what you liked.

“Yeah.” You nodded, pulling at him to lie further down and cuddle you.

“Sure.” Kuzan submitted to your touches, getting comfortable as he lay practically draped over you, doing his best not to suffocate you under his weight. “Suits me.”

“You’re so flippant, honestly” You laughed, a small tone of chiding in your voice.

“What?” Kuzan shrugged. “I think it’d suit anyone to have their cock buried in your pretty hole whilst they take a nap.”

He paused, studying the way your cheeks got all heated at his words, before smiling as he leaned in to your ear to whisper

“Gonna fuck you again when I wake up, okay, sweetheart?”

You almost groaned. You had no idea how you were supposed to wait that long to have him again, but you agreed by giving him another deep, loving kiss.

“Okay.”

“That’s my girl.”

[lindsey-laufeyson]

Distractions- Chapter 15

Distractions Masterlist

Pairing: Reader x FWB!Tom Hiddleston

Series Warnings: SMUT, fluff, angst, friends with benefits

A/N: I told myself I would post this chapter before the new year and I just barely made it! This is one of my favorite chapters I’ve written so far, so I really really hope you like it!

Hawaii was quickly turning out to be one of your favorite places in the world, and it wasn’t just the idyllic weather or the gorgeous scenery. It was the culture. Everyone there was always so kind and happy. You learned that “Aloha” was not just the word for hello and goodbye. It was a way of life. It meant generosity, kindness, and love. And it was palpable everywhere you went. 

You were having the time of your life. Yes, you were having copious amounts of sex, obviously, but you also went whale watching, hiking through the rainforest, kayaking, shopping at a local market, and visited famous film locations for movies like Jurassic Park, Pearl Harbor, and, of course, the first film Tom shot in Hawaii, Kong: Skull Island, where Tom excitedly showed you around like a proud little puppy. It was really quite adorable.

When the two of you weren’t off on an adventure or fucking each other’s brains out, you were relaxing in the lounge or by the private pool and hot tub that you were pleasantly surprised to find out came with the house. One day you were laying out on a sun lounger, reading a book while sneaking glances at Tom who was doing laps in the pool. He looked so sexy when he was all wet. 

When he finished his laps, Tom stepped out of the water and toweled off, his sopping trunks leaving hardly anything to the imagination. “Are you ever actually going to get in the water, or are you just going to lay there teasing me?”

“I’m perfectly content laying in the sun with my book, thank you,” you told him matter of factly. “And I’m not teasing you.”

“Oh but you are, darling. You’re basking in the sun in your bikini with a book. You should know by now that’s enough to drive me mad.”

“That sounds like a you-problem, Tommy boy.”

Tossing the towel to the side, he laid on his stomach between your legs on the lounge chair, propping himself up on his forearms which rested on either side of your waist. Then he plucked your book from your hands and set it on the side table.

“Oi! I was still reading that!” you protested.

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow as he looked up at you, his head just above your chest. “Because if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were only using the book to try to hide your staring.”

“Good thing you know better then.” You ran your fingers through his wet locks. 

He gave you his best over-the-top puppy dog eyes. “Come on, Sweets. Come swimming with me.”

“Do you really want to wait all the time it will take for me to redo my hair and makeup before dinner tonight?”

“That’s what this is about? Not wanting to ruin your hair and makeup?” There was a bit of laughter in his voice.

“Have you completely forgotten how we met?”

“You’re getting in the pool.”

“I’m really not.”

All of a sudden he shot up and grabbed you, causing you to scream as he hoisted you over his shoulder. 

“Thomas William Hiddleston! Don’t you dare!” you yelled, kicking your legs and giggling uncontrollably. You let out another scream as he ran and jumped into the water with you. When you both resurfaced, you splashed him in the face. “You little shit!”

He wiped the water out of his eyes and then shot you a warning look. “Oh, darling. I don’t think you want to start that.”

“You started it when you forced me into the bloody pool!” you challenged, splashing him in the face again. 

“Very well.” He stretched out his long arm and used the entire length of it to send a tsunami of pool water at you. 

You attempted to dodge it, but you weren’t fast enough, and when you tried to splash him back he simply sent another wave at you, rendering your tiny splashes completely useless. 

“This… Is… Not… Fair!” you shouted between splashes. 

He didn’t let up. “What was that, darling? I can’t hear you with all the splashing!”

You flashed him your middle finger, making him laugh, and then you decided to try a different strategy. You quickly turned and made your way to the pool stairs to get out of the water.

“You’re not giving up already, are you?” Tom teased. You didn’t answer him, but calmly walked to the side of the pool closest to him, and then suddenly did a cannonball jump right next to him. “Shit!”

“HA!” you mocked him as soon as you came back up. He was nowhere to be found, however, which could only mean one thing. “Fuck.”

Suddenly you felt him grab your legs, and the next thing you knew you were being lifted out of the water and swiftly flipped over his shoulder, sending you crashing right back into the water. When you resurfaced you expected to be immediately assaulted by more splashes to the face, but after you wiped the water from your eyes, you looked at Tom to see him smirking and biting his lip, like he had a cheeky little secret.

“Am I missing something?” you asked, confused. 

“Funny you should say that…” He was attempting to hold back a laugh and you realized he kept looking at your chest. When you looked down, you saw that you’d lost your top.

“Thomas!” you shrieked, instantly covering your exposed breasts with your hands. 

He couldn’t contain his laughter any longer. “I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but I have seen them before, you know.”

“You did this on purpose!” You attempted to sound cross with him, but you couldn’t help but start to giggle as well.

“I swear to you I didn’t!” he defended. “I’m just incredibly lucky apparently!”

“Oh shut it,” you told him, still giggling and attempting to splash him again. 

“Do you really want to start that again?”

You rolled your eyes at him and then looked around. “Where is my top anyway?” You looked at Tom who looked behind you, then back at you, before suddenly diving toward your bikini top.

“No, no, no, no, no!” You dove for it too, but you weren’t fast enough. Tom snatched it just before you could and when you tried to take it from him, he held it up as high as he could. At first you attempted to jump up to reach it, but you soon stopped and shot him a disapproving look. “I know what you're doing.”

He shrugged. “What can I say? I love to watch your tits bounce.”

You shook your head at him. “You know what? Keep the top,” you told him with a smirk, and without another word you exited the pool and headed toward the hot tub. Once you were chest deep in the hot, bubbling water, you looked back at Tom, removed your bikini bottoms, and dropped them over the side of the jacuzzi. 

He bit his lip and shook his head, then quickly got out of the pool and rushed inside. You were puzzled by this at first until not a minute later he came back out with a little foil wrapper in his hand and then climbed in the hot tub, removing his trucks immediately..

“Not so fast, Tommy boy,” you said. “You think I’m going to reward you for your behavior just now?”

He raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. “Well I can’t imagine anything involving your naked body would be a punishment.”

“I came in here because I am going to get myself off using one of these jets.”

His eyes lit up. “Ooh, naughty girl.”

“And while I will let you watch, you are not allowed to touch me or yourself.”

His face fell and his eyebrows knitted together, looking as if all of his Christmas presents had been taken away. “Please tell me you're joking.”

You simply shook your head at him, a self-satisfied look upon your face as you turned around in your seat and got up on your knees, bracing yourself with your elbows on the edge of the hot tub and a jet pointed right between your legs. From where Tom was seated, you knew he’d only be able to see your back and maybe some glimpses of your ass which was partially obscured by the bubbles, but he’d still be able to see your hips grinding, and he’d certainly be able to hear you. It was the perfect amount to tease him, and the perfect way to get back at him.

As soon as the jet hit your pussy, you began to moan. Yes, you were putting on a show for him, but by no means did you have to fake it. The powerful stream of water felt so fucking good against your clit and through your folds. You started slowly rolling your hips, but it wasn’t long before you picked up speed, bucking against the current to chase your fast approaching climax. 

“Oh, Sweets, you have no idea how fucking sexy you are,” Tom’s gruff voice came from behind you. “It’s borderline cruel, what you’re doing to me right now.”

“But you’re being such a good boy for me,” you praised him, a bit out of breath. You were so close.

“But are you sure you want to cum around nothing, when I could so easily fill that void for you?”

“Fucking hell,” you groaned. His words only brought you closer, until your orgasm suddenly hit you. “Oh god!” You quickly lifted your rear out of the water so he could watch you spasm and clench. 

Apparently that was all Tom could take. With a low growl, he stood up and grabbed your hips, leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Permission to fill this pretty little cunt?” As he said this, you felt his fingers stroke your sensitive pussy. 

“Please!” you whined, completely losing your will to keep punishing him. As soon as the word left your mouth he pushed his hard cock inside you. The sneaky bastard must have known you’d give in, because he already had the condom on, not that you were complaining at that point.

You’d barely finished your first orgasm before Tom was fucking you toward your second, gripping your hips tightly as he thrusted in and out of you. It was a good thing there were no neighbors, because the two of you moaning and groaning combined with the sound of the water splashing and sloshing around you was anything but quiet, and certainly more than enough to vividly illustrate what the two of you were doing.

As you felt yourself about to cum again, you held on to the edge of the jacuzzi for dear life while Tom pounded into you even harder. His cock was hitting you in a spot that was making you see stars until finally you reached your second climax. Crying out in ecstasy, you pushed your hips back against his thrusts, encouraging him to cum with you, and that he did. 

“Fuck, Y/n,” he groaned, fucking you through your simultaneous orgasms until he finally fell forward, his hands bracing himself on either side of you. You felt his wet abs against your back, expanding and contracting with every heavy breath. Then he kissed your shoulder and stood back up so he could remove the condom, tie it off, and toss it on the ground to pick up later. “And to think, you didn’t want to get wet,” he said, sitting back down.

“Oh hush, you,” you told him playfully, standing up and combing your hair back with your fingers before attempting to wipe away the makeup that you feared had streaked down below your eyes. 

“Will you stop?” He put his hands on your hips and pulled you toward him, smiling up at you. “You do realize it is physically impossible for you to look anything less than gorgeous, right?”

You put your knees on either side of him and your hands on his shoulders. “Flatterer.”

“Exhibitionist,” he retorted.

You ran your fingers through the wet curls on the top of his head as you looked down at him. “You loved it.”

“It was agonizing.”

“Good.” You winked at him, and then he pulled you down onto his lap and kissed you.

…

On your last night in Hawaii Tom insisted on cooking you a fancy dinner. You protested, of course, telling him that you would be perfectly content just to order in again, but you knew that there was no changing his mind once he was set on something. 

While he cooked, you did your hair and makeup and got dressed. You had decided to wear a dress you had just gotten at a local shop in town. It was a white, flowy maxi dress, covered in various tropical plants, with a plunging neckline, low back, and a slit up to the top of your thigh. To accompany the dress, you curled your hair and pinned up one side with a flower clip. 

Tom had told you that you’d be eating outside on the dining set under the pergola by the pool. When you stepped out onto the pool deck, you saw Tom pouring two glasses of wine at the table set for two, underneath warm string lights. He was wearing dark blue trousers and a matching suit jacket tailored perfectly to his slim figure. Underneath his jacket was a crisp white dress shirt with the top three buttons undone, in true Tom fashion, giving you just a peek of his chest hair. 

“Hey, stud,” you greeted him. 

He set the wine bottle down and turned with a smile, but as soon as he saw you, his smile dropped to a gape. “Hi,” he said, examining you from head to toe as you walked toward him. You were surprised at how caught off guard he had seemed, like he’d never seen you dressed up before or something. “You look…”

“Like a typical tourist in Hawaii?” you joked, putting your arms out and striking a pose.

“Beautiful,” he finished, gazing softly at you as he stepped towards you and placed his hands on your waist. The compliment made heat creep up to your face and you glanced at the ground. 

“Well, you look like a snack and a half.” You smiled playfully up at him. “Speaking of which, what’s on the menu tonight?”

“You mean to tell me you didn’t sneak a peek at what was on the stove on your way out here?”

“Okay yes, but that was a flawless segue, was it not?” 

He laughed. “Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll go fetch our dinner.”

“Or I could just help you,” you suggested.

“Sit.”

You rolled your eyes as you dropped down in the chair. 

“Good girl,” he praised you with a wink before walking back into the house. He knew full well that those two words always went straight through your ears and down to your core, adding kindle to an ember that was constantly glowing when he was around. 

Tom had made his ‘famous’ (his words) spaghetti bolognese, and though you had to be extra cautious eating it given your white dress, it was delicious. Even more delicious, however, was the sticky toffee pudding he’d made for dessert. After you finished eating, you attempted to take the dishes, but Tom beat you to it, telling you he’d be right back and not to go anywhere. 

After he disappeared in the house, you grabbed your wine glass and moved to sit on the edge of the pool, hiking your dress up so you could dip your feet in. You tipped your head back and looked up at the night sky. The stars were so clear and bright, and the light, warm breeze felt so good on your skin. You’d give anything to stay here, but you had a plane to catch in the morning. No use in worrying about that now though. You wanted to enjoy what little time you had left while you had it.

With your head back and your eyes closed, you listened to the soft music Tom had playing, accompanied by the sounds of the island. After a few moments, you heard the sound of the patio door sliding open and shut, and then footsteps approaching behind you. 

“Hawaii suits you,” Tom said as he sat down on the ground to your left, facing you with one leg bent behind you so he could rest his arm on his knee. He’d left his suit jacket inside and rolled his sleeves up past his elbows.

You smiled, but kept your eyes closed. “Hawaii suits everyone. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s quite an agreeable little place.”

“Not everyone’s as gorgeous as the islands themselves, darling.” He leaned in and whispered in your ear. “Maybe even more.”

You opened your eyes and looked at him with your brow furrowed. “Don’t make me vomit up your delicious dinner, Hiddleston.”

He let his head fall forward as he laughed. “Are you enjoying your last night here?”

“You’ve outdone yourself, Tommy boy,” you said. “Why you would waste all this effort on me and not save it for a real date is beyond me.”

Tom paused for a moment as his smile faded and he looked down at the ground. “I hate it when you do that.”

“Do what?”

When he looked back up, you could tell he was genuinely frustrated with you. “Act like you don’t deserve my attention.”

You diverted your gaze to the glimmering surface of the pool. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Isn’t it?” He tilted his head into your line of sight to get you to look at him. Once you did, he gently brushed your hair off of your shoulder, the tip of his middle finger lightly brushing across your skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake. “I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”

You gave a half-hearted smile. “And what do you see when you look at me?”

“Would you believe me even if I told you?”

“Try me.”

Letting out a nervous little chuckle, he briefly looked out at the dark landscape before turning back to you. “I see a beautiful, talented, and kind hearted woman,” he began, lightly grazing the back of his index finger up and down your spine. Feeling self-conscious, you looked down at your feet swaying beneath the surface of the water while he continued. “Who has been taught she has to earn her worth, when in reality she deserves the world just for her existence alone.”

You looked back up at him to find him looking at you with an intensity you hadn’t seen from him before. It wasn’t lustful, but rather a different sort of longing that almost had a hint of sadness behind it, and once his gaze met your own, it pulled you in. Suddenly, you couldn’t hear the island sounds, couldn’t feel the cool water lapping at your shins, or smell the chlorine emanating from the pool. Slowly, hesitantly, you both leaned toward each other, only ever breaking eye contact to glance at the other’s lips, and then stopped a hair’s breadth away from one another. You stayed like that for a moment, feeling his breath mix with your own as he brought his hand up to delicately cradle your face. Finally, his lips met yours with the most gentle caress, before pulling back once again. You responded in kind with a kiss just as tender, but increasing in depth, only parting when you finally remembered to breathe. When you slowly opened your eyes, you were in a haze. Tom’s eyelids fluttered open as he swallowed hard.

“You’re right, I don’t believe you,” you joked. You both laughed as his head fell forward onto your shoulder. When your laughter subsided, you could hear a cover of the song “Chasing Cars,” by Jessy Hayden playing softly over the speakers. 

“Dance with me,” Tom whispered, placing a kiss on your shoulder and looking up at you with his baby blues. 

“Do I have a choice?” you teased him.

“Not really, no.” He gave you a little smirk before standing up and offering you his hand. 

You lifted your feet from the water to the concrete and took his hand, allowing him to help you stand and lead you to an open area of the patio. With your fingers intertwined, he held your hand close to his chest while his other hand slid around your waist to the small of your back. Meanwhile, you brought your free hand to the nape of his neck and he leaned his head down, his nose lightly brushing against your cheek, as you began swaying side to side to the music. You closed your eyes, enjoying the smell of his cologne and the sound of his voice singing the lyrics just barely above a whisper. 

You had no idea how long you’d been dancing by the time the playlist ended and the music stopped, but you hardly noticed. Tom had begun placing sweet and slow kisses down your neck. You hummed contentedly before finally finding the ability to speak again. “Hey, Tommy,” you cooed softly in his ear.  

“Yes, sweetheart?” he replied between kisses.

You took his face in your hands and kissed him softly. When your lips parted, you took his hands in yours and took a few steps backward, biting your lip and smiling at him. Then, with a wink, you turned around and led him to the bedroom. 

On the way there, Tom removed his shoes and socks, and once in the bedroom, you stopped at the end of the bed. You turned around and began unbuttoning his shirt while he resumed kissing your neck. It wasn’t rushed or frantic like usual, it was slow and deliberate. Soon after his shirt hit the ground, so did his trousers and boxers. Then, with one pull of a string, your dress followed. 

Tom lowered himself to his knees in front of you and slowly pulled down your lace panties. After you stepped out of them, he ran his hands up your legs, stopping at your hips. You watched him intently as he began placing light kisses on each little mark he’d left on your body throughout the week. First the fingerprint bruises on your thighs and hips, then the bite marks and hickeys on your breasts and collar bone, following the map of his own creation back up your neck until finally reaching your waiting lips. 

“I could kiss you all night,” he quietly mused.

“You’ll have no arguments here,” you replied with a smile as your hands made their way up to cup his face, returning his kiss with increasing passion. In response, he picked you up with your legs wrapped around his hips and laid you down gently on the bed, barely parting his lips from yours in the process. At the same time that his tongue entered your mouth, you felt his large hand begin to fondle and massage your breast, your hardened nipple rubbing against his soft palm. You hummed with pleasure, pushing your chest further into his touch, to which he responded by rolling the sensitive nub between his fingers. Letting out a little whimper, you bucked your hips. 

Tom knew exactly what you needed. He slid his hand down your stomach and started stroking your wet folds. You moaned into his mouth as he dipped the tips of his index and middle fingers into your entrance and spread the wetness that had pooled there to your needy clit, gently rubbing it in a slow, circular motion. At the same time, he released your lips from his so he could suck on the most sensitive spot on your neck. Your breathing became more labored as your pleasure built slowly and steadily. It felt amazing, but you needed more.

“Fuck, Tom, I need you,” you pleaded. 

He lifted his head and gazed earnestly down at you. “Baby, you have no idea.” 

After quickly putting on a condom, Tom grabbed your hand, your fingers lacing together, and pressed his forehead to yours as he pushed inside you. Melodic sighs escaped both of your throats with every measured thrust, reveling in the physical connection as if you hadn’t done it hundreds of times before. Every so often he’d kiss you again, sometimes just barely brushing his lips over yours, and it felt just as electric as it had by the pool. You had no idea why tonight felt different, felt emotional, but it was almost overwhelming. As you came closer to your release, your moans mixed with his like tea and honey, getting sweeter and sweeter until you both came undone, wordless praises falling from your lips.

Tom’s head fell into the crook of your neck, panting against your damp skin while you stroked his hair. You laid like that for a while, Tom occasionally placing a kiss to your neck between his heavy breaths, until he reluctantly pulled out of you and tossed the condom in the bin. When he laid back down, you rested your head and hand on his chest and draped your leg over his hips while he absentmindedly ran his fingers through your hair. 

“Hey, Tommy?” you said after a few moments of laying in comfortable silence. 

“Yeah, baby?” he replied sweetly.

“If I could see myself through your eyes…” you began thoughtfully. “...Would I end up wanking in front of the mirror all the time?”

Tom’s chest shook underneath you as he burst out laughing. “Probably,” he managed to reply. 

You looked up at him and began laughing too. 

…

The rest of the night was filled with more laughing, cuddling, kissing, and incredible sex. Neither of you fell asleep until the wee hours of the morning, and it was all too soon that your alarm woke you up. 

You reached over and turned it off. 

“Absolutely not,” you heard Tom mumble as he pulled you close, your back flush against his chest. 

“What?” you asked with a grin.

“You aren’t leaving,” he grumbled into your hair.

You stroked his arm that was wrapped tightly around your waist. “As much as I wish that were true, I have to get back to work.” 

He growled. “How long do we have?”

“I have to leave for the airport in two hours.”

“So an hour to sleep and an hour to have as much sex as possible?”

You giggled. “‘Fraid not, Tommy boy. I still have to pack and then I thought maybe we could have some breakfast and coffee together before I leave.”

“I think we can make that happen,” he said as he leaned over you and kissed you. “How do you feel about me riding with you to the airport?”

You looked at him skeptically. “You’d spend an hour in the car just for an extra thirty minutes with me?”

“Is that alright?”

“More than alright, darling,” you told him with a grin as you rolled onto your back, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply.

After a generous amount of snogging, you stopped abruptly. “I should check in for my flight!”

“Should I be concerned that that’s what you were thinking about just now?” he teased you.

You reached for your phone, only to find it had died since your alarm went off. Afterall, you’d been a bit too distracted the night before to remember to charge it. “Shit.” You turned back to Tom. “Can I use your phone to check in?”

“Of course, love.” He grabbed his phone from his nightstand, unlocked it, and handed it to you. “I will get started on breakfast.” And with a kiss to your cheek, he got up, pulled on his boxers, and headed to the kitchen. 

Though you were sad to be leaving, you couldn’t stop smiling as you logged in to your British Airways account. Something felt different, and even though you couldn’t quite place it, it had you walking on air. 

You were just finishing checking into your flight when a notification popped up on the top of Tom’s screen. It was a text from Evelyn Dawson, and without thinking, you clicked on it. 

Your smile instantly disappeared. You felt like someone had kicked you in the stomach. Of course. How could you forget? This was the arrangement afterall. You were both free to sleep with other people, and why wouldn’t he sleep with his stunning costar? 

You cursed yourself when tears began to blur your vision. You felt incredibly stupid for reacting this way when he’d done nothing wrong, and for expecting anything different. This is what you both wanted: fun with no strings. No getting attached. 

You couldn’t let Tom see you like this. After marking the message from Evelyn as unread, you called Koa to come pick you up. Then you plugged your own phone in to get as much charge as you could while you quickly packed, trying your hardest to focus on what you were doing in order to prevent more tears. Once you had everything, you made your way out to the entryway. 

“Wow, that was quick,” Tom said as he cooked some delicious smelling eggs. It was too bad you wouldn’t be able to sit and enjoy them. 

You stayed in the entryway, looking out the window for Koa. You wanted to avoid looking at Tom as much as possible. “Yeah, well, I guess the Honolulu airport is quite busy this time of year,” you explained sheepishly. “So I thought I should head out now.”

You heard the stove click off and a moment later, Tom appeared from around the corner. “What? Darling, I’ve just made breakfast.” He chuckled slightly, but you could tell he was concerned.

“I know, I’m sorry.” You gave him a brief apologetic look before looking down at your fidgeting fingers. “I just– erm– I really don’t want to miss my flight, and Koa will be here any minute.”

“Okay, yeah, just give me a minute to get dressed and then–”

“That’s okay,” you interrupted. “Stay and eat. You shouldn’t let the food go to waste, and I’m probably just going to sleep in the car anyway.”

“Is everything alright?” He stepped toward you and went to put his hand on your waist, but you bent down and picked up your suitcase before he could. 

“I’m fine,” you tried to convince him as much as you were trying to convince yourself. “It’s just time to get back to reality.”

Tom’s brow furrowed. “And which part of this exactly wasn’t real?”

As if on cue, Koa pulled up to the house.

“I’m sorry, Tom. I—”

“Don’t worry about it, Y/n,” he said, sounding defeated. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

And with that, you hugged him and left as quickly as you could before he could see you tear up again.

Taglist: @chronicallybubbly, @the-princess-of-loki, @princess-ofthe-pages, @darcylikesloki, @kikster606, @foxherder, @simone818283, @newtomofgods, @christinebloodwrittings, @tom-hlover

[p-artsypants]

The Pale Rider (1) The Curse of Berk

The Isle of Berk is cursed. Like, extremely cursed. It has been for generations. The extent of the curse has been forgotten over time, but no descendants of the original village are able to leave the island, lest they suffer a gruesome fate.

Three years ago, the Blacksmith invited the Pale Rider to town. He’s a creature that’s haunted the forest and childhood campfire stories for centuries. Now, he arrives every day at noon. One day, Astrid Hofferson decides to be brave and talk to him. He’s actually really nice…for an eldritch abomination.

A Beauty and the Beast AU.

Ao3

Astrid had grown up on the isle of Berk. Born and raised on its cursed soil. She knew the best trees for climbing, she knew every name in the five hundred or so people that roamed the village. She swam its waters, explored its caves. She knew not to eat the dark purple berries on the thorny vines, and she knew not to make fire from black wood. She knew it was bad luck to wander into the bonefield, and that only people with a death wish went out at night. She knew that the trade ships that came in refused to stay more than one night on their soil, and that no ‘blood of the island’ was able to leave the isle’s waters.

And she knew not to approach the Pale Rider. 

Life on Berk was not really all that different from life on any other island or village. There were a few things to get used to, but all things considered, life was fine. 

Almost idyllic. 

They had farms, they had a baker, a blacksmith/butcher/dentist, a tailor, and a medicine woman. There was a large field of wildflowers. And the cliffs that overlooked the ocean offered beautiful views.

What was odd was that they didn’t have a mayor, or chief, or any kind of ruler. There was Oswald the Agreeable, the richest man in town, who had the money to sway most decisions, but he wasn’t looked at for leadership. 

And the land was cursed. Oh, extremely cursed.

The extent of the curse was not fully known. It had long been set into the island for many generations. The inciting event had wiped out a large amount of the population, that included the witnesses. 

Thus the boneyard and the forbidden, crumbling castle on the mountain. 

Besides a few stray quirks of the island, the main effect of the curse was that no one born of the descents of the original village was able to leave. The curse feasted upon the life of its inhabitants and leaving the waters a few miles out would find one drained of energy before they perished. 

That’s how her father died. 

A fisherman, out alone on his vessel, just trying to go out a little farther to look for a better spot. The medicine woman stated that he had succumbed to the curse before he could even turn around. That was, of course, several days after he hadn’t come back and his ship finally floated back. 

So if you weren’t the adventurous or vacationing type, it wasn’t that big of a deal. 

Oh right, there was also the Pale Rider. 

When she was a child, stories of the Rider would instill fear into the children of the village. He was responsible for the missing livestock, for the trails of blood, and piles of bones. It was only a matter of time before his hunger would turn to those who he cornered in dark alleys at night. 

Things changed a few years ago. Whereas the Rider had only ever been talked about, and stood as an urban legend of the town, he was still a mystery. Parents made up what he looked like, how he acted, what he wanted. There was occasionally a sighting. Someone would come ranting and raving in the village square that they saw the Rider running across the ocean or some other flight of fancy. Others still swore they heard the whinny of his horse. Although when asked to describe it, they ended up mimicking the sound of a bear or a mountain lion. 

It all started with Bucket. He was another fisherman, and had a lightning bolt strike him on the head one day, causing a delay in thought process. He wore a bucket on his head to protect his soft skull, hence the name ‘Bucket’. Casually, one night at the Great Hall, he stated that he had caught someone trying to steal from the fish barrels.

“Who was it, Bucket?” Asked Mulch, his fishing partner.

“I don’t know. Didn’t ask his name.” 

“Well, what did he look like?” 

“Oh…tall fella. Recon 7 feet tall. Had a long black cloak, a deer skull on his head, oh! And when I yelled at him, he flew away on a horse!” 

There was a moment of silence as everyone thought that through. 

“Do ya think it was the Pale Rider?”  

“Oh, I bet it was! Didn’t say a word though!” 

Apparently, that was all it took for one man. The village Blacksmith/butcher/dentist, an eccentric man named Gobber, gifted with a backbone made of steel, decided he had enough. He called everyone together in the village square and announced, “I have invited the Pale Rider to come to my shop tomorrow, and he accepted.” 

Horrified murmurings fell over the crowd. 

“You did what?” 

“Aye! You heard me! I got tired of the creature snagging my chickens! Pickin’ them off one by one…terrified them out of laying eggs! The last time he took one, I nearly caught him in the act. I yelled ‘well at least pay for the bugger!’ and he threw a gold coin at me.” 

“…so you invited him into the village?” 

“Yes!” Gobber exclaimed. “But you’re looking at it all wrong. I invited him to come and run his errands like a normal person, instead of him stealing like a horrible raccoon!” 

“He’s no horrible raccoon! He’s worse! He’s a demon!” 

“An abomination!” 

“The curse that walks!” 

“Death incarnate!” 

“Now now,” a voice called out among the crowd. This belonged to Dagur, son of the richest man in town, Oswald. As the richest family, the Berserker clan had some power, and opinions. “I’m sure Gobber didn’t mean any harm in inviting…an eldritch monster into our sweet little village.” 

“It’s jus’ as much his village as everyone else’s! He’s been here longer than all of us. A little goodwill won’t hurt nobody.” 

“You better hope it won’t, old man.” Dagur poked him in the chest. “Or I’ll make sure you suffer.” 

Astrid remembered the day the Pale Rider came to town for the first time. She was only 14, still a child. Her father was still alive. That day was sunny with big pillowy clouds. Many folks would claim that he arrived on a gray, rainy day, but that simply wasn’t true. It was sunny, and lovely. 

The caws of ravens preceded him. A flock of five swooping in. Then a horn from the watchtower alerted an intruder. 

The black shadow appeared at the edge of town, opposite to Gobber’s forge, at the gates. People screamed and ran inside, while others coward in alleyways, terrified but curious to see what would happen. 

Astrid had been pulled into her house by her father, but still peered out the door to watch. 

The Pale Rider made his way through town, the clacking of horse hoofs and the calls of the ravens the only thing to show life in the village. 

He was not what she was expecting, but much worse. His horse, if you could call it that, was a black beast with leathery wings. It had tusks and fangs and its hooves morphed into talons. Its eyes glowed an acid green and it breathed fire from its nostrils. Its shape was unnatural. The neck looked like it was made of only bone, and its joints were spindly and narrow. 

The Rider himself was tall, too tall. His neck was elongated, as were his black and blue fingers. He wore an animal skull mask over his face, but his own violent eyes still burned with visible green flames through the sockets. He had antlers like an elk, and wore a long, draping black cloak that fell open just enough to reveal his chest. 

His heart was on fire inside of him, and the flame illuminated it through the skin, only obscured by the form of his rib cage. 

Astrid’s home wasn’t too far from Gobber’s shop, and she slipped out to watch the Rider arrive. 

Gobber waited for him, hands on his hips and smiling. “There you are! I wondered if ya’d show. And ah, sorry ‘bout the cold reception! I told the other folks that you were comin’ and well, maybe one day they’ll come around.” 

The Rider didn’t respond. 

“Right, so come on in…” Gobber beckoned him into the forge. 

The Rider ducked his head, entering the forge, horse and all. His antlers scraped against the doorframe. 

He stayed for about an hour. Then, just as he came, he left. Silent, slowly, just rode down the hill and out of town, leaving everyone behind to deal with the aftermath. 

That was three years ago. Every day since then, without fail, the Pale Rider would arrive at noon. For the first year, the guard sounded the horn at his approach. But after a while, he went unannounced. 

People still halted in the streets and let their conversations go silent. They watched him go, no longer terrified, but cautious. 

No one said it, but everyone agreed one day he’d snap and kill them all. 

Not Astrid though. She had come to see the Rider as a part of village life. Just as the rooster signifies dawn, so does the Rider declare noon. 

Each day, he went to the blacksmith’s shop, taking his horse in with him. Some days he left with a paper package, and some days he left empty handed. 

One night at the Great Hall, the topic of the Rider was broached. 

“I’m telling ya Gobber, inviting that thing here everyday is wrong! Simply wrong!” Said the farmer, Sven. 

“Oh?” Asked Gobber. “How so?” 

“How so?! Are you daft, man? Can’t you see the terror you have caused this town? We were happier when the boogie man was a rare sight! Now we have to see him every day!” 

“And?” Asked Gobber, pointing an accusing finger at him. “He’s a wee spooky, yeah, but what else has he done? Hmm? Lose anymore livestock since he started comin’ round?” 

Sven screwed up his lips, but didn’t answer. 

“Gobber,” a woman asked. “What does the Rider do when he comes to your shop? I think if you can answer that, we’d all feel a bit better.” 

Gobber then noticed how many people were interested in hearing this information, as they turned to look and listen. 

He held up his hands. “Alright, I’ll only talk about it once, because it’s not my place to divulge the lad’s business.” 

Astrid took particular note of the word ‘lad’. The Rider was several centuries old by now, but Gobber spoke as if he were a boy. 

“He’s just…well, doing business! Somedays, he gets some cuts of meat. I’ve re-shoed his horse a few times. First time was a doozy, I’ll tell you that!” 

“That horse wears shoes?” Astrid found herself asking. 

“Aye lass! He’s very particular about it! Brought me this fancy black metal to use! Never told me what it was…” 

“And?” Someone else asked. “What else?” 

“Oh not much, really. He’s real quiet, doesn’t talk much. Not at all if he can help it. But I think he’s lonely.” 

Lonely? Astrid wondered. Did a creature like that actually have feelings? 

That was a rather cruel thought, considering the Rider had been completely harmless for years now. 

“Yes,” Gobber continued. “Some days, he lets his horse out back to graze and then just sits and keeps me company. I’ve even taught him a thing or two about smithin’. ‘E seems to like it.” 

Sven scoffed. “Teaching the devil how to make weapons? You’re daft! Daft I say!” 

“Oh like his horse couldn’t kill a bear with a single swipe!” Gobber waved him off. “He has a talent for it too. I think at one point, he may have had some skills! But…whatever happened to make him this way, it’s stolen life and memories from him.” 

“He used to be someone?” Astrid asked, horrified. 

Gobber shrugged. “At least I think so. That, or he just popped out of the ground one day, like a very scary tulip.” 

Gobber had to have such a unique perspective on the Rider to describe him as a ‘Tulip’. 

Astrid decided she also didn’t want to live in fear. Her life had been a hard one, personally. Her childhood wasn’t so bad, but after the death of her father, it seemed like the blows kept coming. 

If she could have the peace of mind that this monster was nothing like the childhood stories, that was one less thing to worry about. 

Near noon the next day, Astrid went over to Gobber’s shop. 

He seemed somewhat surprised to see her there. “Astrid? Uh…how can I help you, lass? Are you here to pick something up for ye mum?” 

“I would like two pounds of stew beef, please.” 

“‘A course. It’ll take me a moment to cut that up. But I’ll have it all ready for you if ya want ta come back later.” 

Astrid frowned. “But can I not just wait here?” 

“Sure,” he chuckled. “But the Rider will be here any moment.” 

“So?” She crossed her arms. “He can wait his turn.” 

Gobber barked a loud laugh and wiped a tear from his eye. “Oh that’s a good one. He’d love to hear that! Nothing says ‘part of the village’ like having to wait yer turn at the shops, eh?” 

The telltale shush fell over the village from outside, and Astrid heard the caws of several ravens. Goosebumps raised on her flesh, and she started shaking, but she refused to leave. 

“This’ll be interestin’…” Gobber said darkly, a little grin on his face. 

The clack of horse hooves outside told her all she needed to know. She had but a few seconds to dart out the back now. 

But no, she was determined to see this through. 

The Rider bowed, entering the little shop, before raising up to his full height. He was even more terrifying close up. His black cloak almost seemed to emit smoke. 

His horse sniffed her, embers flying out its nose. 

Astrid stood still, petrified, and unmoving as two sets of acid green eyes stared at her. 

Gobber cut the tension with a razor sharp knife. “Afternoon lad! What can I do for you today?” 

The Rider whipped his gaze back to Gobber, silent for a moment. Then he dismounted his horse. 

He was still tall. Maybe two feet taller than her. But he was thin and gangly. He leaned to one side, and Astrid could now see that he only had one leg. One side wore greaves made of a dark metal, while the other leg was made of twisted black wood. 

Once off, the horse walked past her, leisurely making its way to the back pen, and snacking on grass. 

Astrid only now noticed the singed spots of grass out there, as the grass smoldered under the horses hooves. 

The Rider just stood there, not saying a thing, but staring at her. 

“Well lass, guess I’ll get that beef cut for you,” said Gobber. “You’ll have to wait, Rider. She’s ahead of you in line!” He laughed. 

Astrid swallowed hard, and then raised her hand to the apparition. “Hello, I’m Astrid Hofferson,” she spoke, perhaps louder than intended. But her voice trembled mightily. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

The Rider tilted his head, then looked down at her hand. 

“Ohhh,” said Gobber. 

“What?” Astrid panicked. “Should I not have offered to shake his hand?” 

Before she could change her mind, fingers as cold as ice wrapped around her hand and squeezed. She looked down, searing the image into her mind. His hands were dark gray and shiny, like they were covered in graphite, and then slowly turned dark blue down at his fingertips. His nails were long, black, and pointed, almost like claws. He squeezed, sending a ripple of tingling energy up her arm. 

“You…” he spoke, his voice deep and gravelly, like it hadn’t been used in years. But there was a nasally quality that threw her off. Almost made him sound more human. “...are not afraid of me?” 

Oh she was. She was a hair away from crying, but she just smiled back and said, “should I be?” 

He shook his head. 

A wave of relief went through her as she sighed.

“At least,” he added. “Not now.” Then he released her hand. 

The hair on the back of her head raised, but she did her best to just appear calm, cool, and collected. 

The Rider turned to Gobber. “I will wait.” 

“Alrighty! I’ll be right back with that beef! It’s in the cold storage,” he threw a thumb over his shoulder and headed into the back. 

Astrid wanted to protest and ask him to wait and help the Rider first. She desperately didn’t want to be alone with him! 

But words stilled on her lips and Gobber was gone. 

Silence stretched between them as Astrid awkwardly raised her arms to hug herself. “Uh…” She began. “I never got your name.” 

He was quiet, and Astrid thought he wouldn’t answer, but ultimately he said, “I don’t remember it. Rider is fine.” 

Her heart flipped, a pang of another emotion than fear finally making itself known. “You don’t remember your name?” 

He shook his head. “Or many things. A result of…” he raised his hands, then gestured to himself. 

“Are you cursed?” 

He glanced her way, and though she couldn’t see his expression, she could feel his eyes boring into her, like she had asked a really stupid question. “Yes.” 

“Ah.” She cleared her throat. “Do you…remember your horse’s name?” 

“Toothless,” he said easily, no hesitation.

Astrid looked out to the pen, studying the horse. The only horse she had seen with more teeth than could fit in its mouth. “Oh, it’s an ironic name, right?” 

He bowed his head, thinking. “When I met him…he…could retract them.” 

“So he’s also cursed? Package deal sort of thing?” 

“Yes.” 

“I see…” she gnawed on her lip. “He seems pretty well trained.” 

“Yes.” 

Now it was getting awkward. She had questions for him, but wasn’t sure if this meeting was the proper place to ask them. Maybe she could come back, gain some confidence, lull him into a sense of friendship and security like Gobber had. 

“Here we are!” Gobber announced, slab of beef in hand. He wrapped it up in paper, and rang it up. “One silver piece please.” 

“Gobber, you’re undercharging me,” she stated, with a frown. 

“Maybe a little, but I know money is tight for you an’ yur mum. It’s no big deal.” 

Her face heated. “We’re getting by just fine, Gobber. The floral business is doing well.” 

Gobber sighed. “Fine, two silver pieces.” 

As she took out her coin purse, the ice gray hand deposited two silver coins on the counter. 

Astrid whipped her head to look at him. “You…you really don’t need to do that. I’d really prefer not to be in debt to people.” 

“I owe you,” he stated firmly. “For your kindness.” 

Astrid felt that lurch in her chest again. “You don’t owe me for that. Certainly not two silver pieces.” 

“Please,” he said softly, almost a lilt. “Let me.” 

Who was Astrid to deny the Pale Rider of anything? “I suppose…thank you.” 

He hummed, scooting the coins towards Gobber. 

“Oh a lad paying for a lass’s groceries? How sweet!” 

Astrid didn’t know how to express the very clear doubt she had about this ‘lad’. It was fair that the Rider had good intentions, but making any sort of romantic insinuation about it was just plain unfair. And wrong. 

Astrid took the package and backed away from the counter, allowing the Rider room. But she didn’t leave. Not yet. 

“And for you, Rider? What’ll it be?” 

“Chicken. Alive.” 

Gobber swallowed. “A…live chicken? Well, sure. Egg layer?” 

“Whichever has the most personality.” 

Astrid’s skin crawled. What was that supposed to mean? 

“Why don’t we go look at them, and you can choose?” He pointed outside, where the horse was grazing. 

The Rider listed to the side and walked with a shambling gait towards the back door. 

Astrid tiptoed after, just watching with a bit of horror and a lot of curiosity. 

Gobber gave the Rider a handful of chicken feed and stepped back. 

In turn, the Rider sprinkled the feed at his feet, and waited. 

One lone chicken was either brave enough or stupid enough to approach the Rider and started feasting. 

He watched it for a moment, then stated, “That one will do.” 

“Alright, I can get a box for her? Or if you want to just carry her by the feet—“ 

The Rider scooped the chicken up with both hands, awkwardly, like he had never held a chicken before. He tucked the bird under his arm and beckoned his horse over. 

Then he shoved the chicken in his saddle bag, rather roughly, with a flurry of feathers cascading down around him. 

“How much?” The Rider then asked. 

“Oh, five silver, please.” 

The Rider deposited the coin in the man’s hand, and then began to lead his horse back inside. 

Astrid scrambled back, standing in the corner, and pretending not to have watched. 

He led Toothless through the forge, nodding his head at her as he passed. Then he mounted up once outside, and departed.  

Astrid rushed to the counter. “What is he doing with that chicken?!” She asked, horrified. 

“Lass, I can’t begin to know.” 

“Is he going to torture it or something? Why did he want one with a personality?! That’s so creepy!” 

“Maybe he likes fresh eggs in the morning. I know I do.” 

“Gobber! You know damn well that’s not what he wants.” 

Gobber shrugged. “I don’t pretend to know what he’s up to.” 

“But you know him better than anyone!” 

“Aye, but that’s not saying much. In three years, I’ve only learned scant little things about him. I didn’t know the name of his horse! I was never brave enough to ask him!” 

“Really?” 

“Of course! I thought for certain the name was going to be something so ancient that it made your ears bleed when he spoke. But Toothless? Never saw one coming.” 

Astrid went to the front door and peaked out, wondering if she’d catch a glimpse of the Rider retreating. 

But he was gone. Just as he came, he was gone.

[heartcereql]

𝘃𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗼 𝗴𝗮𝗺𝗲𝘀

☆ neteyam sully x reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒- the four times neteyam knew he was head over heels and the one time he confessed it. 

𝐂𝐖- tooth rotting fluff, sappiest shit ever, kinda corny if u squint but they’re so parents, none overall. 

𝐀/𝐍 - oh no what’s happening to me i’m actually active?????!!!  also i had a bit of trouble posting this one so lmk if there are any mistakes x

I.

the skies were in peaceful and unbothered calm. warm breeze caressed neteyam’s skin as he made his way through the forest, to the pond. to you. birds chirming in the background; it all confered the setting an idyllic ambience.

it didn’t take him long to finally reach the hypnotising, crystal-like waters of the pond. and there you stood, surrounded by sun rays and beautifully decorated branches. every thought he carried seemed to dissolve, as it always did.

watching you get undressed of your ornaments, only to dive into the water moments later, he realised that, with you, he was able to live in the moment. other worries ceased importance when you leaned in for a big kiss, wrapping his favourite perfume, your own, around him. you were enhacing in all ways possible. 

he walked away from the hiding of branches, his figure becoming visible to you.

your face light up with his sight, a truthful and ebullient smile, calling out his name.

II.

he knew you were around his pod; however, he did not expect the scene he’d encounter as he approached his home. 

you were sat on the ground, knees bent. tuktirey, his youngest sister, was sitting in the same position before you. besides the two of you laid a collection of wildflowers, jewels and beads. some of those he had previously seen on you. your hands were occupied combing tuk’s hair, tangling flowers into her braids and adorning some other braids with beads. while you ornamented her hair, you were entertaining tuk with stories, which went from tales to some of your experiences. 

your face was relaxed, the softest of smiles settling on your lips, eyes looking at the younger na’vi with kindness. tuk’s smile was way wider, due to the constant laughter. truth be told, she admired you and loved spending time in your presence. 

“and there you go!” you finally exclaimed, accomodating the last details. 

tuk turned her body to you, excitement washing all over her. 

“you look so pretty” you smiled at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

she returned the smile, giving you a big hug. “ ‘m gonna go show mama!” she grinned before sprinting to find neytiri. 

once she was gone, neteyam approached you. 

“hey” you stood up to greet him with a kiss to his cheek. “your sister is the absolute cutest”

“she is. you know, you didn’t have to do this. you could’ve just, i don’t know, done something else. something fun” he said.

“this is my idea of fun” you shrugged, smile never abandoning your lips. 

“and i adore you for that”

III.

his chin rested on your shoulder, embracing you with his arms from behind. one of his hands was laced with yours, caressing the back of your hand. 

your eyes were locked with his in the reflection that the abandoned ship shot back. a lovesick smile adorning your and his features. 

“i love us” 

the words slipped off your mouth so casually they surprised neteyam. but he wasn’t complaining. he was eager to hear more, to listen to the mellifluous sound of your voice. 

“what?” he asked in pure and bening confusion.

“i love us. i love you and me together” you elaborated, turning to face him. “i love how we fit each other.”

he tuck a loose strand of hair behing your ear. but his touch still lingered against your cheek. 

“heaven is truly a place on pandora with you, y/n” he softly said. “better than i ever even knew”

you planted a kiss to his cheek before dozing off into the forest again, motioning for him to follow. 

IV.

you couldn’t really recall how it had started. it didn’t really matter, though. the point was you both were laughing. laughing so wholeheartedly much. your laughs laced together melodically, although you were almost out of breath.

your cheeks hurt from all the grinning. your tummy hurt, too, that’s how hard and pure the laugh was. you couldn’t even open your eyes. 

“i-” you broke into laughter again. “i can’t stop!”

you threw you head back, resting it against his shoulder. but it didn’t last long, for he was laughing so much. the whole scene only made you laugh even harder. 

that same day, later on, you’d realise you could have stayed in that moment forever. worries dissolved, no tasks to fulfill, just him and you, enjoying such a mundane yet satisfying activity as laughing, living in your very own bubble. 

as for neteyam, well, he was a goner as soon as he heard you giggle. it sounded so- addicting? yes, perhaps that was the word. the only thing he was sure about was that he never wanted to stop hearing you laugh. 

V.

“y/n!”

you turned to greet him with a warming smile, one that never seemed to leave your face whenever he was around. 

“listen, i’ve ... i’ve been meaning to tell you something” he started, face suddenly flushed. 

you immeadiatly frowned. confused and, yes, slightly afraid. those words didn’t usually announce good news. 

“is everything okay?” you asked carefully. 

“yeah, totally” he flashed you a smile, before avoiding your gaze once again. “it’s just i’ve been feeling different lately. i, well i don’t know how to word it, but, the world suddenly was more beautiful. life’s been refreshing. i felt like doing really pointless things, but doing them made me happy. and i found someone to do them with. i found someone who sees me. i found someone worth living this world with and for.”

your heart swelled with happiness. you didn’t consider yourself to be able to elaborate a worthy response. there was a glint in your eyes that made you even more ethereal now. 

“well that might have been the most beautiful thing i’ve heard in my entire existance” you cracked a smile. “you truly are one of a kind”

he stepped closer to you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“i can’t promise you forever, y/n. but i can promise you now, and everything i am”

you allowed yourself to avert your eyes to his lips for a fraction of second, before darting your orbs back at his. you couldn’t ask for more.

“you make my life better for just being in it.” you finally said, voice quiet. “and i can’t promise you forever either, because forever wouldn’t be enough”

he gifted you a smile, one you had grown to adore, to need even. 

“kiss me” you whispered, not able to hold in your yearning anymore. 

“all for you”

and then his lips were on yours, not for the first time, certainly not for the last time, but fervently, exploring in a way they had never before, saying unspoken words that translated that feeling you wanted the other so desperately to know but were afraid speaking wouldn’t be enough. feelings that would accompany you forever.

© heartcereql, 2023 || thank you for reading ! 𓆩 ♱ 𓆪

[hearts4hughes]

caught | jack hughes

lake house summers au

a/n: this took me forever to write for no reason at all. is it narcissistic that i’m falling in love with my own au? probably but idrc. enjoy!

tags: @sweetestdesire @hughesluv @michaelrikas @spideyy @longlivehughes

it had been two weeks since the ‘confession’ between you and jack. also meaning, it had been two weeks of trying to keep your relationship a secret together. it wasn’t some ‘forbidden love’ that no one could know about. it was simply just a beautiful secret that binds you together. the thrill of keeping your relationship a secret adds an extra layer of excitement, intensifying the bond you share.

every stolen glance, every brush of your fingertips sends sparks coursing through your veins. but as much as you long to shout your love from the rooftops, you both understand the necessity of keeping it hidden.

you navigate the treacherous territory of keeping your relationship a secret with care and precision. your friends and family remain blissfully unaware of the love that blossoms between you and jack.

the sun dances upon the calm waters, and laughter echoes through the air as you all gather on the deck, soaking up the idyllic surroundings. you and Jack exchange knowing glances- as well as interesting texts.

as the afternoon unfolds, games and laughter fill the air. the tension between you both grows with every stolen touch and meaningful glance, yearning for a moment when you can freely express your love.

“y/n, can you go grab me some beer?” trevor asked, laying sprawled out across the pool chair. “thank you,” he answered himself before you even got the chance to open your mouth. usually, you would’ve argued with him. telling him you weren’t his maid and that he’s a grown man who can do things himself; however, this sparked a chance for you and jack to get some alone time.

your gaze quickly found jack’s. he read you like a book, figuring out exactly what you were thinking without you articulating it. huffing, you got up and began making your way to the kitchen.

“i’ll help you.” jack suggested and shot to his feet. he sent you a quick wink as his back was fully turned to everyone else. he almost even wrapped his hand around your waist but stopped himself before he did.

“it’s only one beer, i think she’s fine-”

“shut up trevor, he’s just trying to be nice!” you snapped, causing trevor to scrunch his nose in annoyance and stick his tongue out at you. you flipped him off in response.

as soon as you get into the privacy of the kitchen, jack grabs your waist, pushing you against the counter, and bringing you into a passionate kiss. the moment, filled with tenderness and affection, catches you off guard, and a spontaneous giggle escapes your lips.

you break away from the kiss, a smile dancing on your face as you look into jack’s eyes. his expression is a perfect mix of curiosity and amusement, mirroring your own joy. the world around you fades into the background as you revel in the moment.

"what’s so funny, babe?" jack asks, a playful glint in his eyes. his hands move from lower back to your upper thighs, lifting you up to sit on the counter.

blushing, you find your words, your voice holding a certain playfulness. "you’re so eager, rowdy," you tease, your gaze locked with his.

with the roll of his eyes, he stifles out a laugh, “do not call me that ever again, and of course i’m eager! it’s fucking torture sitting next to you outside and not being able to hold and kiss you.”

“you are a simp, jack hughes.” your smile deepens, your hand reaching up to cup his face. you lean in for another kiss, a sweet and lingering connection. the touch of jack’s lips against yours is like a thousand fireworks exploding, filling you with a sense of bliss and contentment. it’s in these stolen moments of tenderness that you realize how fortunate you are to have each other.

"jesus, what’s taking you guys so long? are you making the beer from scratch?" luke stands at the entrance of the kitchen, his eyes widening in surprise. “oh, shit…” time slows to a crawl as shock washes over you, freezing you in place.

panic floods your senses as you scramble for a response, desperately searching for words to salvage the situation. instinctively, you shove jack away. he stumbles back, mouth hanging agape as luke’s eyes flicker between you and jack.

luke’s gaze shifts between the two of you, his brows furrowed with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. “were you just making out?” his voice carries a hint of disbelief as he tries to make sense of the scene unfolding before him.

“no!” you blurt out.

“yeah,” jack replies at the exact same time.

you and jack turn to look at each other in a synchronized motion. luke twists his head in confusion, “huh?” you both are just as confused as him.

you find your voice, finally, and in an attempt to explain. "jack and i are dating,” you pause to take a deep breath, “we have been for a few weeks but you’re the only person who knows.” the weight of secrecy begins to lift, replaced by a sense of newfound trust. you and jack exchange a glance, silently acknowledging the unexpected turn of events.

luke’s eyes widen further, his surprise transforming into a mix of realization and understanding. he takes a step closer, a wide smile gracing his lips. "haha i was right! i knew there was something going on between you too!” he exclaims, a glimmer of warmth in his eyes.

“i’m sorry, what?” jack asks, completely dumbfounded. “there was no way you knew.” he scoffs.

luke quirks an eyebrow, “i mean you two weren’t exactly being discreet about it. the winks, the weird looks, you two were obviously hiding something.” were you and jack really being that obvious? looking back at it, you definitely were.

“well shit,” your voice is laced with slight defeat. “who knew lukey had a love radar.” he stifles out a laugh in response.

as the three of you stand in the kitchen, the air buzzing with a newfound sense of camaraderie, you feel a deep gratitude for the unanticipated moment. it was seriously getting hard for you to keep your relationship a secret from everyone. at least one other person knew about it.

“so can i tell everyone that i was right? i’ve got money to collect.” he asks, his eyes lighting up. it might’ve been shallow to bet on his older brother’s relationship but who cares? a little extra cash couldn’t hurt.

“no!” you and jack respond in unison. he rolls his eyes, “but i bet a lot of money!” he whines like a child- reminding you that he was the youngest brother.

“i don’t give a shit about money, if you tell anyone, i’ll smother you in your sleep.” jack retorts. luke holds his hands up in defense before disappearing back outside.

this was going to be a fun summer.

[svthub]

svthub's secret garden: a spring collab

This spring, love is in the air! Take a stroll through our garden and discover our secret world of colorful blooms. Who knows who you might run into...

This collab will contain a combination of SFW and NSFW works. See each individual fic for tags and warnings.

Join the Secret Garden taglist!

peony: one trick peony • @wongyuseokie [NSFW] fluff/angst • csc x female reader

synopsis: choi seungcheol could only do one type of floral arrangement, and the rest he’d pawn off to you, granted he got a ton of orders, but he would always take the orders for arrangements that he could never do. this time he went too far. he took an ‘only peonies’ arrangement–a painfully delicate flower–and took an order for a wedding, and with your luck, you’re the only two florists available that weekend.

tulip: my destiny • @wonuhour [SFW] fluff/romance/angst • yjh x female reader

synopsis: when he first met you he didn't think anything of it but he felt drawn to you. When you two started to spend time with each other he fell in love with you. So he takes you to the tulip garden, hoping you felt the same for him, since this is the place you two met each other for the first time.

dandelion: whichever blooms first • @strawberryya [SFW] fluff/hints of angst • hjs x gn reader

synopsis: a dandelion is resilient, it can weather any storm, and at the end of its life it will even grant wishes to whoever sees its worth as something more than a simple garden weed. your relationship with joshua is the same, you hope, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to make a wish that your love will last a lifetime anyways.

rhododendron: sunkissed • @junkissed [SFW] fluff • husband!wjh x wife!reader

synopsis: this year for your anniversary, jun takes you on a trip down memory lane through the flowers of your past together.

carnation: be sweet • @heartkyeom [NSFW] angst/smut • prince!ksy x princess!reader

synopsis: with your country’s finances in trouble, an arranged marriage with a fellow royal is the only viable solution. yet, kwon soonyoung is not a good person, a good prince, and he is certainly not meant to be someone’s husband

foxglove: by line • @wonwussy [NSFW] smut/drama • jww x female reader

synopsis: you know the hotshot ceo is up to no good, and with the interview that can make your career, you’re finally going to have proof.

lily of the valley: valley of broken dreams (and lilies) • @duhnova [SFW] angst/fluff • ljh x female reader

synopsis: you met jihoon when you were both young and dumb — a promise you two made to become big in the music industry laid shattered years later when you lost your ability to sing, and now you have to live in the shadow of your boyfriend while you struggle to come to terms with your broken dreams.

orchid: he was sunshine, i was midnight rain • @dkakapizzaboy [NSFW] fluff/angst/smut • lsm x female reader

synopsis: he was sunshine and roses and you were orchids and moonlight. two very different people in the same industry. he was loved and you were feared, he was a warm cup of tea on a cold day and you were a bucket of ice cold water. what would happen if two highly sought after, up and coming sustainable fashion brands decided to work together on an exclusive, once in a lifetime collaboration?

zinnia: everlasting love • @sluttyminghao [NSFW] fluff/smut • kmg x female reader

synopsis: mingyu wants you to know how much he loves you after dropping hints for years, and takes you on a date you'll never forge, and maybe you'll also figure out you love him too.

lavender: and we meet again • @idyllic-ghost [SFW] fluff/angst/romance • xmh x reader

synopsis: there is something familiar about that house on the hill, even though you swear that you have never seen it before. but you’re drawn to the lavender fields and the oceanview - and the lonesome looking man you see sitting on the porch. when you approach him there is something in his eyes that you cannot understand - a knowing, a deep feeling. the question is, will you ever have enough time to figure out what that look means?

hyacinth: how flowers bloom • @cheolism [NSFW] fantasy/smut • bsk x reader

synopsis: every year, you and the god of spring meet at the edge of the clearing to perform the ceremony that decides if winter will endure or if spring will prevail, repeating the ceremony weekly until spring finally wins. after you won the last five weeks, keeping the world under your icy spell, seungkwan decides to use alternative tactics to dominate you and bring spring back.

trillium: trillium • @beahae [NSFW] fluff/smut • hvc x female reader

synopsis: vernon is flying in to see his girlfriend. oh shit, that’s… you. being away from him since it happened a few months ago makes it hard for it to feel real, especially after two years of what you both convinced yourself was a purely platonic friendship. now that he’s here in the flesh, you are determined to make it feel real. and very non-platonic.

forget-me-nots: promise ring • @lovelyhan [NSFW] fantasy/fluff/a pinch of angst/smut • lc x reader

synopsis: no one would've guessed that the daughter of the town’s royal mage has a soft spot for the clumsiest fire elemental in the entire realm. but when the crown prince suddenly asks for your hand in marriage, you're forced to consider how you feel about a certain lee jung chan a lot more seriously.

[eden-3000]

Bathtub-Talks

married! Loki x reader

A/N: This is my first oneshot here on tumbr, feel free to leave requests and konstructive criticism. Now have fun.

Genderneutral reader, husband Loki, fluff, domestic, slightest hints at smut, not really tho, mentions of food

You lie relaxed in the bathtub and enjoy the warm water that envelops your body; this peace is far too rare in your house.

The almost idyllic moment is interrupted by a knock on the door. You roll your eyes with a deep sigh. "What is it?" you ask loudly.

"Is a husband not allowed to check on his beloved?" He smiles, as he enters.

"Not when the beloved is bathing and the husband is supposed to take care of the food," you reply and tilt your head back to look at him. "It´s in the oven right now, so there´s not much I can do," Loki explains professionally and sits down on the edge of the bathtub.

A week ago you let him cook for the first time because before that he didn't even know how to make fried eggs. Now he somehow turned into a gourmet, which you honestly find quite entertaining.

"What is it going to be this time?" you ask curiously, to which he just grins and answers: "A surprise."

"And you honestly don't want to tell me." "Otherwise it wouldn't be a surprise anymore." "Don't you think I could somehow get the secret out of you?" you smile seductively and sit up a little.

He tries to remain stubborn "Fairly certain." Nevertheless, you see the doubt in his eyes, notice how he swallows, and feel his warm gaze glide over your body. "I think I can," you whisper before you kiss him.

You notice how his resistance wanes, but he remains silent. After far too short a time, you pull away from him again but stay close enough so that your breath brushes his lips. "There's no more until you tell me what you've cooked." you breathe quietly.

"You're playing a very nasty game, darling," Loki growles, but doesn't give you the answer you're hoping for. "I learned from the best," you reply softly. His gaze wanders back and forth between your eyes and your mouth but stops at the latter. "There's lamb with fried potatoes," he murmurs briefly, whereupon you are satisfied and your lips unite again.

When you separate after an eternity in which you have flooded half the bathroom, you lean back again. "And? Was it worth it to tell me your little secret?" you ask. "Hm... That remains to be determined," he replies, for which he receives a stern look.

"You don't want to deny my achievements, do you?" "I only deny your achievements so that they don't go to your head, darling." Loki grins and lets a hand slide through the lukewarm water.

"And how are you going to prevent that?", you ask, slightly tilting your head. "I see, I´ll have to take very rough measures to handle you", he smirks, mischief glittering in his eyes. "I can hardly wait."

 Loki is about to give you a possibly very improper answer when a pungent scent hits your nose. "Did you turn the stove down?" you ask more seriously. He looks at you confused. "I think so..." "Because it smells like you didn´t." 

Now the Ase also seems to get the smell. He quickly jumps up and disappears into the kitchen, cursing.