#plastic beach anniversary

[p1nedew]

thing i did for plastic beach's 14th birthday

[timeangel]

happy 14th anniversary to plastic beach!!!

(I know I probably missed it but shush)

🫡

[gyuswhore]

Sit Down

anniversary event [closed]

kim mingyu x reader

prompt(s): getting aroused by the other's jealousy/obsession with them, "Could he/she/they do it like this?”, “you're sexy when you're angry”

word count: 5.1k

warnings: smut (MINORS DNI), fluff, potter!mingyu, they're married, reader discovers jealousy, oral (m.rec), penetration (unprotected!!!), kissing, breast play, clit stimulation, they're nasty as hell idk what to tell you

synopsis: It isn't your fault that you feel this way, especially as you watch her hands trace over your husband's own.

It isn't your fault that you can barely go on with your day with that cursed image replaying in your mind like a broken record.

And it certainly isn't your fault that you find yourself completely naked on your husband's lap while his clay-clad hands cannot touch you.

[a/n]: @highvern at the scene of the crime as always, we all have to thank her for her service as she betas for me and encourages my tomfoolery. enjoy this and let me know your thoughts in the rbs, comments or send me an ask!!!!!

masterlist

The grip you have on the file is proving to be detrimental to the cheap plastic covering. Not that you could blame yourself as you watch your husband through the window of his pottery studio, leaning over to help a student with her discombobulated salad bowl. 

It was a beautiful morning, the beach across from the boardwalk sparingly occupied with delighted tanners and swimmers, the low buzz of waves reaching the shore sending a calming draft across the area. Envious as you were of Mingyu and his impeccable real estate choices, especially right now as your heel clad feet ache to take a dip in the waters, you couldn’t help but feel all the more irked that this was the background the image inside the studio was sitting against. 

Through the large glass windows, Mingyu is pressing his foot over top of his very pretty student’s on the pedal to force the pottery wheel to spin, hands over her own as he guides her fingers to put pressure on the wet clay. A spiteful part of you pushes a thought in your mind, that your husband was attempting to fix a lost cause, especially when his student seemed quite insistent in her soft smiles and keeping her gaze on the fingers that cover her own, rather than actually fixing the abomination on the pottery wheel. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been standing there by the time he’s done, straightening his back to turn his attention to the other students that make their attempts at their half done projects. Mingyu catches your figure through the window and immediately breaks into a big smile, clay covered hand coming to wave at you. 

Taking it as your cue to walk into the studio, you return neither his gorgeous smile or his occupied wave as you strut through the glass doors. Your husband meets you on the other side of the open space, hands now washed clean as he leans over to place a kiss on your cheek. 

“Hey, you,” he says in greeting, hands drying on a towel. 

All you can think about is if that salad bowl girl can see you, and you thank goodness you wore your nice top today. 

“Here.” You merely push the slightly crumpled file of documents to his chest, jaw set and lips tight. 

“Oh, thanks,” he comments as he grabs the papers pushed towards him, smile dropping a little at your abrupt attitude. “Is everything alright?” 

“Hm? ‘Course,” you answer, adjust the strap of your bag. “I have to get back to work. Be careful about your paperwork next time, I can’t keep making trips across town for this.”

You bite your tongue as soon as you say it, the words tumbling out before you can help it. Can’t keep making trips across town for this? Last time you checked, you were looking for passive excuses to make the trip to your husband’s studio just to see him during the day. 

“Oh.” His brows are furrowed, the frown apparent on his face. “I–I didn’t think you’d be too busy today, you said you’d be done early so—I—nevermind. I’m sorry I pulled you out of work for this, I’ll be careful next time.”

There’s a pang in your heart as you hear him apologise, immediately mad at yourself for going on and ruining his mood. What were you annoyed at? That he was doing his job? 

Your gaze lands behind him where most of his students are occupied with their projects, but just one whose eyes dart between you and Mingyu. 

Taking a step back, you’re about to walk out before you feel him grab your wrist. “D’you wanna have dinner at the new restaurant down the pier after work? We can watch the sunset too, haven’t done that in a while.”

You want to scream yes. Of course you want to watch a beach sunset with your husband. Of course you want to eat at the restaurant you’ve been waiting eagerly for with your husband. And you aren’t entirely sure if this reaction is simply because you’ve been stressed lately, but the sticky feeling is pushing you to make your claim in some way, somehow. 

Biting back another strangely snarky reply, you make an attempt to fix your stoic face and walk back to Mingyu. Leaning up, you kiss the corner of his mouth in what you hope is slightly reassuring. 

“I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Kicking off your heels is the first thing you do once you make it back to your desk, taking no time to punch the power on button on your computer. You pull a file from the stack next to you, one that sits at the bottom, with a harder than necessary yank. Bad idea, because as you scramble to stop the pile from tipping over entirely, you can only think of other ways your day could get worse. 

Before the worst of it can hit the floor, you find a second set of hands catching the strewing papers. 

“Thanks, Han,” you say as you attempt to reorganise the documents, taking the extra ones off his hands. 

“Have the laws of physics forsaken you? Or do you just like reorganising paperwork?” Hansol asks, sipping on something from the stupid horse mug Mingyu had made for him in light of his promotion. 

Huffing, you only haphazardly stuff the files to the corner to be done with it, opening the file you need as your computer finally boots up. “Don’t you have manager stuff to do?” 

“Being a manager means I can put off doing manager stuff,” he states. “Besides, I’m taking care of my peers, can you imagine the catastrophe that could’ve been if I didn’t swoop in to save you?”

“Papers on the floor? How catastrophic indeed,” you monotone as you click away at trying to find a particular excel sheet. 

“How was Mingyu?”

Stiffening, you want to curse Hansol at reminding you of the very thing you did not want to think of right now. 

“He was fine.”

“You were back earlier than usual, thought you would’ve had lunch with him.”

That was your plan, but clearly the universe had other ways for you to go about your day. Like thinking about an overly flirty student and her all too oblivious teacher. 

“He…he had a workshop today,” you simply comment. 

“Okay, Elsa, who shoved an ice cube up your ass?” You can hear the sneer in his voice, the judgmental stare. 

Groaning loudly, you can only slam your forehead onto your desk in an all too dramatic fashion. “Can you drop it? Please?”

“Ah,” he drags. “Trouble in paradise. Understood. I will be at my desk if you want to complain about your husband like Margaret from Finance.”

Margaret from Finance. The woman who’s entire catalogue of marital issues would be solved if she and her husband simply spoke to each other once in a while. Perhaps even held hands on occasion. 

You wince as you envision yourself becoming as stuck up and miserable as that, Hansol’s harmless comparison sending you into yet another spiral. It wasn’t that serious, this was all because your brain was stressed, horny and in love. The fact that your husband looked like how he did wasn’t really helping either. 

With a little more aggression than you usually would’ve done with, you attempt to skim through the files as quickly as humanly possible, flicking through the useless filler pages to get to the ones that actually required your attention. 

You send a passive aggressive email to Hansol entailing his job to keep things precise. 

Shoving forkfuls of salad into your mouth, your mouse clicks louder than anyone else in the area, having gone back to change your cursor speed about thrice since you turned your computer on. 

Your phone dings. Closing your eyes, you count to ten before turning to look at the illuminated screen beside you. 

[Gyu <3]: did u have lunch?

[Gyu <3]: i wanted us to get sum together but u zoomed off : (((

[Gyu <3]: im done with my classes for the day. The students were asking ab you earlier when u came in heh

[Gyu <3]: cant wait to see u tonight i looooooveee u <333

God, he makes it hard to stay mad at him. 

Snapping your head back to your monitor, you close your eyes once again as you question the war in your head and chest. Why were you mad at him? There was nothing to be mad about. Did you expect him to go about his day covered in plastic wrap and a neon ‘OFF LIMITS’ sign all day? The ring on his finger was supposed to do the job just fine. 

You sigh as you force yourself to text him back something that wasn’t entirely passive aggressive. Typing and erasing, and typing again and erasing again. A smiley face to seal it into something you were not feeling, and send. 

It’s late in the afternoon by the time you’re done, the sun less blaring as it pours through the office windows. You flick the last file shut, power off your computer and spring up to your feet, immediately gathering your things. Phone, ID, keys, and the last plastic file in your hands, you stalk towards Hansol’s desk and slam the papers next to his computer. 

He nearly chokes on his pocky stick as you spit out your final notes in rapid fire, not caring if you were indecipherable in the slightest. Hansol’s eyebrows remain in the air by the time you’re done, spinning on your heels and walking straight towards the elevators. 

“See you, Monday!” you finally hear him call out and you don’t turn to return his goodbye. Something that might have given you a strike but you could threaten him to take it off all the same. 

Besides, you had somewhere to be, and the idea churning in your brain didn’t seem like it wanted to wait. 

The sun is setting by the time you get to the beach boardwalk, climbing the steps to the line of establishments that overlook the significantly more occupied shore. Everything is perfect. Warm just the right amount, the sunlight forcing everything in its path into an incandescent glow. 

What you would’ve given for a nice lie on one of the beach chairs to release an entire day’s worth of tense muscles. But alas, you trudge straight down the boardwalk and walk the way to Mingyu’s studio. When you’re nearly there, you see the glass door of the studio open from a distance, immediately recognising the part timer leaving for the day. 

You cross paths as he walks towards you in the opposite direction, lighting up as he recognises you through your work attire. 

“Oh, hi!” Chan chirps, arm raised in a half wave. 

“Hi! Clocking out?” you ask as you stop to greet him. 

“Uh—yeah, Mingyu let me go early.” He’s grinning. 

“Good to hear. You enjoy the rest of your night, alright?” 

“Yeah–uh, you too!” he stutters once again as he continues to smile wide. You think nothing of it and continue your short walk to where the studio doors were. 

Coming round, you find the large glass door and walls have been blocked out with the blinds, the blaring CLOSED sign right at the entrance. 

You stand there in front of the door like a fool, taking a deep breath, eyes closed as you gain your bearings. Grabbing the shiny handle, you push the unlocked glass open. 

The bell at the top jingles, signalling a customer, and you watch your husband sitting at one of the turntables, clearly occupied. The studio is completely empty except for him, the whirr of the spinning table coming to a halt as he turns to tell whoever came in that they were closed for the day. 

It’s revolting. He’s wearing his usual black tee, stained with months of splattered clay, his hair tousled like he’d run his hands through it before he started his project. The sun seeps in through the neglected edges of the top of the glass walls, past the blinds that cover most of them, casting him in an unbelievable light. It’s revolting, he’s done nothing and it’s making your head reel; revolting. 

“We’re—oh, you’re early!” There it is, that stupid smile he can’t help but flash at every last person he sees, directed straight at you laced with nothing but love. 

Reaching behind you, you push the metal lock on the door to click it shut, locking the both of you inside, and the rest of the beach and boardwalk out. Right after, you begin to kick off your heels. 

“I already made the reservations for an hour from now, let me change and wash up so we can go to the beach till—”

“Sit down.”

He was halfway out of his seat as he was talking, ready to leave his half done work on the turntable to leave with you. Your words come out firm, a strange tone like you were giving him a command. 

It works, and the shock has him immediately falling back into his chair. The force pushes the chair away from the turn tables, now half facing you.  

Dropping your bag, you shuck your long coat off and leave it on the floor. Eyeing his hands, they’re covered in wet clay, suspended away from his body so as to not ruin his clothes more than they already are, speckled with dried clay and paint. 

He recovers quickly, confused as he watches you fiddle with the buttons on your bottoms, rising out of his chair once again. 

“What are you—” 

“I said,'' you grunt as you finally push your bottoms down so they hit the floor. “Sit down.” 

The shift in his face makes it obvious it has clicked in his head, staring at you as you walk towards him in just your blouse as the situation escalates faster than he can keep up with. 

“Right now? Can you at least let me—”

Through his blabbering you’ve reached him and swung a leg over his lap, seating yourself on his clothed thighs as he moves his hands away, making sure not to get clay all over your blouse. 

His hands may be occupied in a different sense, but you choose to busy yours in other ways. Taking his face in your hands, you lock your mouths in an open mouthed kiss, rendering him speechless. 

Taking no time to think, nor to let him think, you push your hips down to meet his own in a deep grind, panty clad pussy making contact with the rough of his jeans right over his bulge. The feeling is so sudden, spiking throughout your system as you hear him take a sharp inhale still pressed into your mouth.

That was you. That was you getting that reaction out of him, no matter how small it was. The thought has you gripping the back of his head, fingers making home in the short strands of his hair as you let go from the kiss. 

Wasting no time, you push his head back and stick your tongue out, licking a stripe from the base of his throat right up to his jaw. He shivers beneath you, and it only muddles your mind even more. 

You can feel his bulge beneath you growing larger and larger by the second, pressing into your inner thigh as his breathing grows exponentially heavier in your ear. Locking eyes with him, you trail your other hand down to graze over the front of his shirt, pressing into the bumps and ridges that lie beneath.

Reaching his buckle, you hook your finger underneath the gap and pull at the metal. As you let go, it snaps back into place with a resounding cling! Keeping the eye contact, you drift even lower, your fingers find the growing tent in his jeans as you cup the bulge. Moving your hands in the way you know he likes it, you curb your speed to drag out the feeling for him. 

“Fuck,” you hear him curse lowly. 

It’s becoming impossible for him to keep his composure, especially to keep his hands away from your body that sits on him. He gets close, fingers brushing the white of your blouse in a moment of confusion, instant brown on the surface as his wet, clay hands ruin your shirt. 

“If you really can’t keep your hands to yourself,” you say, halting your movements on his crotch. “I guess this’ll have to go too.”

Not bothering to undo all the buttons, you tug the first couple ones unfastened and pull your blouse over your head, throwing it somewhere behind his head. Quickly, you reach behind and unclasp your bra, flinging it away in the same general area. You’re now almost entirely naked while he remains clothed head to toe. 

Your nipples harden as they meet the air in the studio, Mingyu’s eyes set on your mounds as he takes them in. 

Before he has the opportunity to do anything, you slip off of your seat in his lap, knees slamming the floors in your haste as you kneel before him. Hands flying, you tug at the buckle of his belt, undoing it despite your hurried motions. 

“You’ve been off today, are you sure everything’s alright?” Mingyu asks from, still wide eyed as he watches helplessly as you yank his jeans enough to reveal the final layer of his underwear. It doesn’t take you long to take his entire length out of there too, needing him in front of you.

“Do not ask me about my feelings when I’m trying to fuck you.”

“What on earth–shit!”

You’ve taken his now fully hard length into your hand, licking a strip from the base of his cock up to the bulbous head. The tip of your tongue teases the head ever so lightly, and Mingyu watches as his head and your tongue match in their reds. He watches the way your tongue dips into the pooling white of his precum, pushing into his slit as the tip of your tongue wiggles slightly. 

The fact that he cannot touch only heightens the effects of your teasing, clayed hands balling into fists just to feel something on his fingertips. 

Soon, your lips have wrapped around the head of cock as you let it rub against the beginnings of the inside of your soft mouth. Letting go, you take him in again, this time running your tongue over his slit, feeling his hips twitch beneath you as you continue to take him in and out, only to take him back in again. 

In one motion, you sink your mouth lower onto his dick, feeling the head of his cock run against the roof of your mouth. Mingyu hisses audibly amidst his very loud and heavy breathing. 

When you feel him hit the beginnings of your throat, you pull back, bringing your hand to curve around the base to cover what you couldn’t fit, pumping him up and down as you continue to pull his member in and out of your mouth. 

He’s moaning loud, the echoes resonating off the walls as you hear your name slip from his mouth over, and over, and over again. It only encourages you as you move down deeper, his cock touching the back of your throat in more familiarity than before. 

Everything is wet; the spit and precum turning into a shiny gleam on his cock and on the lower half of your face, the heat between your legs that makes you feel oh so empty. Clenching around nothing, you resist the urge to bring a hand down to relieve yourself. 

“Are you ovulating or something, why are you suddenly…suddenly, fucking hell I don’t know.” 

Releasing him from your mouth with a loud pop, you rear your head to look up at him, the lower half of your face covered in a wet glisten. Your hand continues to pump him as you watch his face remain contorted in pleasure.

In a daze, you don’t realise what you’re saying as you blab. “Could she do it like this?”

“What?”

“Could she do it like this?” you repeat like a mantra, needing to hear his answer. “Could she make you feel like this?”

“What are you talking about?” It’s taking Mingyu every bit of his soul to form coherent words. 

In one swift motion, you’ve hoisted yourself back on your feet, nails digging into his thighs through his pants. 

Hovering over his lap, you take his shaft once again, but this time you push your panties aside with your hand and bring it close to your heat, brushing the head of his cock over your wet folds, using him to feel the pleasure that builds. 

“God, you’re so wet,” he blabs as he throws his head back at the feeling. “I wanna touch you, fuck I need to get this clay off, I need to touch you.”

He’s brought his mouth to latch onto your nipple, evoking a loud gasp from you as feel him circle your nub with his tongue before sucking. Letting go, he sticks his tongue out as his only weapon, flicking it repeatedly as you continue to rub his wet cock over your equally wet cunt. 

Lining him up with your entrance, you sink onto his head as you let out a loud moan, feeling the tip stretch you out in the familiar way you’ve been craving all day. It’s like your brain is buffering as you recover from the bout of pleasure, barely registering that he’s continued to assault your other nipple now. 

Your free hand comes to toy with your relieved tit, twisting your spit covered nipple between your fingers as his dick pushes further and further inside you. 

Fully sheathed, you pull your husband’s face away from your breast as you bring his lips to your own, kissing him deep as you clench around his hard cock.

“Don’t. Do that,” he hisses against your lips, hands suddenly closing in your waist, so close before he realises he can’t. “‘M gonna fucking come, I’m so serious.”

The news is enlightening, especially as it encourages you to lift your hips ever so slightly, and curl back back down in an initial thrust. Again, and again, and again till you’re moving your hips at a swift pace, striking down on his length as you both moan into each other's mouths.

The feeling is electrifying, and the borderline pornographic noises your husband is making is only making it all the more easier to gush around his member, to move your hips faster as you feel the knot in your abdomen tighten and loosen. 

“You feel amazing, so fucking good,” he grunts as he mouths the column of your throat. “My baby, my darling, my wife.”

And when the burn in your thighs becomes more than just a mental battle, your hips slowing despite the mind boggling feeling and the choked sobs that come out of you, you feel Mingyu’s hips lift from the chair he’d been trapped in, pushing into you instead. 

His still dirty hands have taken hold of the top of the back legs of the chair, helping himself push off his seat to thrust into you rapidly. 

“Touch yourself, baby,” he says. “Rub your clit for me.”

Who are you to deny him, one hand on one of his broad shoulders while the other flies down to the mess that’s becoming of your cunt. Rubbing two fingers over your clit, you throw your head back in a loud moan as you feel yourself beginning to close in.

Mingyu is watching the apex of your thighs; the way your fingers work against your swollen clit, the way his dick disappears inside you, a ring of sinful white foaming at the base of his cock. He twitches inside you, a clear indication that he was also close. 

Your breasts are a sight to behold, and the scene before him is enough to make him bust entirely. Bouncing tits that he cannot touch, perfectly red, puffed pussy he cannot touch, the beautiful curves and dips of your waist and thigh, barely illuminated by the setting sun, that he cannot touch. He curses the wretched idea to make a last minute thing on the turntable before you arrived, curses the fact that he should be able to feel all of you. 

He might lose his mind, and he does when your walls clamp down on him like a trap, your moans so loud he’s sure he’ll be hearing them in his ears for weeks. 

“G–Gyu, I’m cumming,” you whimper through the pure brain fog. 

Mingyu fucks you through your orgasm, finally letting himself release his own load into you when he simply can’t take it anymore, dick spasming as he shoots white hot cum into your hole. The added slick makes it easier to slip in and out faster as his orgasm holds out far longer than it usually does, both of your hips twitching like you’d been zapped as you come down from your highs. 

It’s become near impossible to hold up your own weight, slumping against his large frame as you unclench every pinched muscle and joint. Forehead on his shoulder, you take pleasure in the afterglow, breathing in his scent with your nose pressed into the sliver of skin that reveals past his shirt. Sweat, the earthy odour of clay, and the calm familiarity of him.

“I don’t know what I did to have you acting like this,” he breathes into your ear. “But whatever it is, I need to do it more often.”

Sluggishly, you lift your head to look at him. His head is leaned back on the chair, face glowing as you stare into the eyes you fell in love with so long ago. 

“You haven’t done anything,” you sigh. “It was…stupid.”

“That’s the worst thing you could say to me right now.”

You whine, rolling your neck. “What do you want me to tell you?”

He stares. “Who do I need to thank for creating this monster?”

It was a joke, clearly, but you couldn’t help but feel the little pool of pride swell within you anyway. 

“Salad bowl girl.”

“And I’m supposed to know what that means? Do you want a salad bowl? I can make you one.”

“No. The girl in your class this morning with that god awful salad bowl,” you huff. “It looked offensive, she was too busy burning holes into you.”

“Oh no,” he whispers, eyes wide, mouth turning it the beginnings of a hysterical laugh. “My pretty little wife is jealous.”

“If you’re gonna rub it in, I'm getting off.” You try to remove yourself from his lap, slipping his now soft member out of you. 

You’re stopped when you feel the two points of his elbows locking you at the waist, pushing you down. He’s grinning like a fool. “You’re sexy when you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry—”

“Your hello was my dick in your mouth.”

“So you didn’t like it?”

“I’d fire myself in the kiln before I ever say that.” He locks his elbows harder, pulling you closer. “Besides, I think this means I’ve won.”

“Won what?”

“Like you’ve never noticed Chan looking at you like…like he’s got some puppy dog crush on you. I’ve won the battle of composure.” 

You guffaw, “What are you—stop it, he does not!”

He merely leans forward and kisses you, “I don’t blame him. My wife is the most gorgeous thing anyone could ever see.” 

Grabbing him by the elbows, you break free of his hold and get off of his lap, attempting to gather the clothes you’ve scattered across the studio. 

“Can you at least help me put my dick back inside my pants, these are my cleaner jeans!”

Snapping the elastic of your bra back on, pantied adjusted, you walk back to him. He’s looking at you with those stupid stars in his eyes and it makes it hard to focus on readjusting his jeans for him. 

Leaning down, you take in your hands his still wet cock, smothered in your spit and arousal, complete with his own release. You can’t help it when you dip further to take his head into your mouth, the groan coming from above you near automatic. 

“Oh, you’re evil.”

You grin as you wrap your mouth in a harsher suck, feeling him harden slowly, still quicker than you’d thought. Giving him a few more generous sucks, you run your tongue over his slit before moving back. 

He’s breathing heavily, leaning close as you pull his waistband up. “You know, they say you should lay down afterwards if you want to be successful. I think we might have to go again later on a real bed to do the trick.”

“You can stay horny, I’m getting dressed for some real food.” 

“I think we kinda need to be horny to do what we’re trying to do,” he lowtones, moving his face back and forth to meet your drifting eyes. 

You sigh once again, “Why can’t just getting off birth control be enough?”

“Are you not having fun?”

“I’m literally buttoning your pants for you, it was fun until now.”

Mingyu raises his hands in both surrender and pointed regard, the clay now dried and cracking over his hands and forearms. “I digress.”

 It annoys you that he’s right, so you lean in to give him a kiss as a distraction. It works. 

“It’s alright,” he smiles into your kiss. “This is the one thing I won’t mind breaking my back for.”

The giggle escapes you before you can help it, and you feel him kiss at your cheeks, placing one last one on the tip of your nose.

“Now, if my lovely wife will let me wash my hands…?”

“Go,” you chuckle.

“We should name our baby Salad Bowl in this honour.” He’s way at the handwash station by now, water running as he scrubs off all the dried up clay.

“So sad our baby will have to grow up without a father.”

 “I love you,” he yells. 

“I’ll be sure to tell our child.” 

“You’re insufferable,” he says, suddenly behind you as you pull on your blouse. Wet hands grasp your waist and you squeal at the feeling. 

“Mingyu!” 

“I love you,” he drags, spinning you around to face him. 

“I thought I was insufferable.”

Your husband groans, simply pulling you into him with his own two hands to kiss you. 

“I think we’re late for our reservation.”

“You’d better hurry then.” You eye his clay speckled shirt.

“Don’t miss me.” He turns around to find his cleaner shirt, all while you drift over to see the incomplete project still on his table.

A mug still clay-brown and half done, but one that looks suspiciously similar to your favourite one you broke last week. 

[byexbyez]

lovers of valdaro | leon kennedy x reader

PART I  |  PART II  |  PART III (finale)

pairing: leon kennedy x f!reader 

summary: Some things have changed. The months, the weather, the air that hangs between Leon and you. Yet one thing has remained constant: his desire to keep you as close as possible. 

word count: 8.2K of gratuitous smut 

warnings: 18+, smut, established relationship, pda, bickering, consensual somnophilia, groping, dry humping, unprotected p in v, fingering, prone boning, swearing, slight dom/sub undertones, pet names, an attempt at praise kink, pill as contraception, creampie, oral sex (f!receiving), marking, unintentional edging, masturbation, aftercare, no use of y/n, oh and ooc 

notes: i’m sorry to those who were expecting pt 3 to be angsty. i wanted to portray some changes and get used to writing and publishing smut. also, this can be read separately as it is almost all smut. enjoy!

➵ read on ao3.

“This man yaps a lot,” Leon says from behind you, you’re startled by his voice near your ear. His lips tickle your earshell. Like a cat’s fur standing up, your shoulders go up slightly. Renting only one sunbed –a narrow chair, really– for the two of you starts to feel like a mistake. Well, you plan to swim anyway, I’ll just sunbathe, you had said earlier, failing to account for Leon’s FOMO when you pulled out your book from your beach bag. For some reason, he was interested in anything that captured your attention as of late. 

You were looking at travel guides for you and your sister back at home when Leon saw your laptop screen. “What’s this?” he asked, adjusting the screen so he could see it better. 

“Beaches in Italy,” you answered. “My sister will be using her yearly vacation this year. I’m making  a list of places we can go if she asks.” Leon was silent and when you turned to him, already watching you intently. “What?” 

“Our anniversary is coming up.” 

You looked at the date, wondering why he brought it up. “I guess it is.” 

“How about we go? Before your sister asks, I mean,” he suggested, scratching the back of his neck. 

You straightened up on the couch. “You wanna go on a vacation with me?” 

The corners of his lips curled up. “Err, I believe I asked you first.” 

A little girl runs by your sunbed with her arms full of plastic toys, screaming with joy as she plops down to the sand. The bottoms of her tiny feet are red, probably because of how hot the sand is. She begins digging up sand with her toy shovel. 

“It’s Dostoevsky,” you say, like that would be enough clarification for Leon. His arm comes up to pinch the book up top to flip it and peek at its title, which reads “White Nights.”  Propping up your elbow on your torso to adjust both your book and your attention, you try to move as little as possible to not disturb him. He basically made you sit between his legs and lay your back on his chest, saying he would take a dip in the sea in a few minutes. 

You know he’s about to speak again when your head rises along his chest. “He’s been talking nonstop for three pages.” 

“Leon, I’m trying to focus.” 

The little girl a few feet away lets out a frustrated cry when her castle crumbles down, her little arms flap irritably, chucking the toy shovel in front of her in the process. A slightly older boy, probably her brother, comes to the rescue with a bucket full of sea water. He shows his little sister how to wet the sand for it to hold shape. The sound of waves crashing against the breakwater drowns out their shrill laughter.

“You’re squishing your boob,” Leon blurts out, takes hold of the planted elbow on your breast and lifts it in the air. 

Trying to follow the words, your head knocks on Leon’s chin. “I can’t read like this. Let go of my arm.” 

“Nuh-uh. If I let go, you’re gonna keep pressing your arm to your boob and have a nip slip.” 

“I’m not gonna have a nip slip.” 

“Whatever the correct verb for a nip slip is, it will happen.” His chin digs into the crown of your hair. “And those teenagers will remember this day forever.” 

Your eyebrows scrunch together. “What teenagers?” 

“The ones that are looking this way,” Leon states in a matter-of-factly tone. He’s right, a bunch of boys are in the sea, laughing among themselves by splashing water. Every now and then their heads tilt up to your direction. 

You look down on yourself to see if the swimsuit is covering you like it’s supposed to. There’s nothing wrong with it, yet that doesn’t stop you from setting the book down on your stomach. “Why are they looking here? What’s wrong with my swimsuit?” 

“It looks good on you, that’s why. Hormonal teenagers.” 

“I think it’s the position we’re in,” you mumble. Your back feels damp with sweat as you peel away from him, sitting up further away.

But Leon has other plans, he snakes his hand around your shoulder and plants his palm right on your sternum, pulling you back to him by your chest. 

“Oof,” you breathe out once you collide with his torso again. 

He taps his fingers on your breastbone as he catches the slipping book on your lap. “Here, I’ll hold it. You turn the pages.” 

“It’s too hot for this,” you groan. 

“Pardon me for doing something,” he says, sounding neither hurt nor sorry. 

“You said you’d swim,” you say, though it sounds more like a suggestion. “Want me to lather you up in sunscreen? I know you didn’t put it on back at the hotel.” 

“I mean, when you ask it like that, sure.” He’s grinning like a cheshire cat, it warms your heart that he’s pleased with himself just by managing to get under your skin. Something quite like a heartbeat, it feels intimate, an embrace out in the open. In a snap, you shake off the feeling. You’re not going to see these people again, they do not know you, just like how you don’t know the couple dipping their feet in the water while holding hands, little girl building sandcastles with her brother, young boys jumping on each other’s backs. Who would have thought being a stranger to all of it would make your yearning flesh all the more tender? 

Your wandering eyes shut in bliss when you feel it. A featherlight, barely-there kiss on the back of your neck, placed just below your hair, followed by the disappearance of your book from your sight. Leon reaches down to drop it in your bag, you wiggle away to let him search for the bottle of sunscreen. 

“Take your shirt off,” you say once you turn to face him. 

“Damn, woman. At least buy me dinner first.” 

“Can you get any cornier? You’re getting overpriced beer at best.” 

“...May your sky always be clear, may your dear smile always be bright and happy, and may you be for ever blessed for that moment of bliss and happiness which you gave to another lonely and grateful heart. Isn't such a moment sufficient for the whole of one's life–?”

Your attention snaps away from your book over a playful voice. “Hey, miss. Sorry to bother you.” Leon is standing a few steps in front of your chair, hands on his hips, most of his weight on one leg. Water drops cling to his firm chest, following a delectable path down his muscles. Some even caress his faded scars gently, a reminder that he has endured things far from gentle. His hair seems darker due to saltwater, the tips of it almost poking his eyes, by the looks of him having to shake them away from his face when he attempts to tilt his head to the side. “Are you perhaps single?” 

You purse your lips to suppress a grin. “Why are you asking?” 

“I’m interested.” 

“Oh,” you croon in mock-embarrassment. “I’m married.” You make sure to show off the gold band on your ring finger. 

He walks next to your chair. “Lucky guy. Speaking of, where is he?” His gaze lingers on your legs that are bent towards your chest, the book propped up on your knees. 

You close the book and play along. “He’s swimming.” 

“Is he a good swimmer?” 

“Yeah, his strokes are phenomenal.” 

His eyebrows shoot up. “Are we still talking about swimming?” 

You tilt your head to the side. “Why yes, is there a misunderstanding?” 

“No, no. Just making sure we’re on the same page here. Tell me more about him.” 

You gesture to the empty room on the foot of the sunchair. “Then you might want to sit here for a while. Maybe dry off?” 

“I’d love to keep you company until your husband shows up.” Leon sits sideways next to your feet, way too familiar for a ‘stranger.’ “What’s he like?”

“First of all, he looks a lot like you.” You press your lips together. This is ridiculous. “He’s also incredibly annoying.” When Leon gasps half-mockingly, you cast a sideways glance at him. “His jokes are really corny, he’s lucky I put up with them.” 

“That might hurt his feelings.” 

“Well, he’s not here.” 

He scrunches his eyebrows together, there’s a visible question mark in his blink. “My jokes are that bad?” 

“Aaand, the play is over.” You slap your knees lightly, sliding your feet towards Leon until your toes touch the side of his thigh. “We are not sharing the chair again. You’re still dripping.” 

A sluggish sigh escapes his lips. “Let me lean on you at least.” 

And before you can say no, Leon is relocating your hands from your knees, moving them by your wrists, placing your arms at your sides. He folds his own arms on top of your knees and rests his temple on them, hugging your knees to himself, looking off into the side. You could lean forward and bury your nose in his hair like this, inhale the sun and salt, let your lips linger, let him feel the ghost of a kiss for a change. Though he was always better at unprompted acts of affection, maybe because he didn’t think much of it. 

It’s peaceful—the secluded space you’ve managed to carve out for the two of you, despite the chaos of the crowded beach. It feels like a quiet world unto itself, hidden in plain sight amid a sea of distant faces, as if removed from everything around you. It’s strangely intimate. Minutes or hours pass, you can’t make out which, lost in the stillness. 

When Leon speaks, his thumb starts brushing your knee. “I can hear you think,” he murmurs, his voice low. What’s going on in that head of yours? 

“Will you tell me a truth?” you ask, almost in a whisper. 

Leon doesn’t lift his head up, lazy like a cat in the sun. Although his body reminds him to be on guard upon hearing a kid yell in the distance, his muscles twitch reflexively. “Why?” 

“For all of this to feel real.” Your eyes follow the slope of his nose, then the squished red cheek leaning on his forearm. The sunscreen you copiously put on his nose bridge couldn’t protect his skin. You can’t help but admire his long lashes, fluttering so prettily the action could make butterflies jealous. 

His answer surprises you. “I’m scared all the time.” 

“Of what?” 

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” His thumb stops moving so he can squeeze your kneecap. “I’m scared that one day you’ll want us to go our separate ways. I’m scared that I will not be able to let you go. You know I wasn’t able to do it the first time around. I dread the day you won’t want to see my face again.” 

“Leon–” 

“Sometimes I get scared that something will happen to you and I will lose you.” 

It dawns on you then. The reason why you’ve been waking up to strong arms tangled around your waist for months. 

“Leon, nothing’s going to happen to me.” 

However, he’s still going on. “If you decide you’ve had enough, just let me know, okay? Don’t just up and leave.” 

Your throat constricts itself. You don’t know what to say to that. Part of you wants to do just that: up and leave. Not the way he means but in a way to escape his hold, step aside to mull it over and come up with a humane response. The fact that he couldn’t meet your eyes while saying all that leaves your heart with a dull ache, chest too heavy to even breathe. 

He finally looks up, expression unreadable. His eyes scour your face, searching for something. “Does it feel real now?” 

You swallow on nothing as you meet his eyes. Sure, you nod. It terrifies you how real it actually feels. 

Leon thinks he’s a genius for lowering the temperature of the air-conditioning while you were in the bathroom, carrying out your night routine. No, he didn’t have any malicious intent, not at all, he was just sweating a lot even after his shower. By the time you entered the bed in your pajamas, you suspected nothing, lifted the bedcover to join him. Your skin was glowing from all the products he couldn’t wrap his head around, your lips were shining clear. For a moment, he wanted to plant his mouth to your lips and taste the vaseline. 

He was aroused, which was not surprising considering the amount of sex you two had been having. It’s become so regular that he thinks he never had this much compatibility with anyone before. Goodnight, Leon, you murmured before gracing him with the sight of your back, voice so sweet he nearly whined out of desperation. He didn’t know why he waited for your breathing to fall steady, he’s been holding you in your sleep for a while now. Every morning you wake up before him and toss his arms aside, get the day started. 

When he’s sure that you’ve fallen asleep, he makes his move, drapes an arm around your waist, pressing his bare chest to your clothed back, spooning you. He’s careful not to wake you despite the evidence of his arousal resting against your ass. Normally, he would ignore it and take care of it in the morning but you make that impossible by squirming in your sleep. A few minutes pass by and he guesses the room must feel like an icebox to you, he knows you get cold quickly. Leon thinks he’s a genius because he could just wake you up and suggest warming you up. He also thinks he’s a fool because what if you don’t wake up, with all this squirming? He could move to the side and wait for the cold to do its own thing or he could just get up and go to the bathroom to rub one out. Or he could lower his boxers, do it right here. He’s positive you wouldn’t mind, that’s how intimate you two have become.  

Before he can decide, a shiver takes over your body, a soft whimper escaping your lips. Now Leon feels bad. He’ll just get up and fix the AC to an acceptable temperature. 

You shrivel into him, searching for warmth. The arm across your waist reaches up, the entirety of his hand cupping your breast that’s pressed against the bed. His body runs hot despite the breeze in the hotel room, so he thinks this will help. Just as a quiet, needy cry from your throat travels to his burning ears, his other arm snakes beneath your body to press against your belly. He squeezes you tightly until he can feel the blood pumping through your veins, buries his nose into the crook of your neck. Inhaling deeply bestows on him your enticing scent. 

Guilt washes over him as he ruts his hips into your sleep shorts, because who becomes an animal in heat when they smell clean soap? 

Leon. Leon does. 

The smallest things have been setting him off. All of your flimsy sundresses, swaying of your hips in them, your smooth legs, the gold anklet that matches with your wedding ring, the swimsuit that makes your cleavage call his attention. You, taking his arm while walking side to side. In fact, he suppressed smothering his face into your cheek today at lunch—cuteness aggression— as he tried to eat his food in peace. You were enjoying your pasta, humming contentedly after your first bite, you smiled at him when you caught him watching you intently. Leon was never into taking pictures but at that moment, he wanted to engrave the picture of you smiling up at him lovingly into his memory for the future, remember your crinkled eyes and adorably scrunched up nose when he would miss you. He knew he would miss that moment right when it was happening, he’d be gone again for an assignment soon. 

“What?” You laughed.

“That good?” he asked, eyes pointing to your bowl of pasta. 

“Yep! Want some?” 

Leon keeps clinging until your body twitches no longer, takes deep breaths against your neck, pleased as his heat completely stills you. His hold relaxes as he becomes aware of his grip strength. He releases his clamped fingers from your breast, stroking your nipple apologetically. It will surely leave a mark on your soft skin, which you will whine about later, though he knows deep down you enjoy him being rough with you. After all, it was you who brought up that you weren’t made of glass, he didn’t need to act as if you were going to break. 

Your soft sighs soothe him to an extent, as far as the strain in his boxers allow. Fuck it, he thinks. He’s still humping your backside, cock throbbing. He’s going to wake you up. Pounce on you once you open your eyes. 

Forefinger and thumb pinching a hardening nipple, he nuzzles his face into where your neck meets your shoulder, dropping heavy kisses first, then switching to sucking your skin. If he could drown in your smell, he would. “Honey, please wake up.” 

“Hm?” He hears you, heart starting to beat even faster. “Leon?” Your first touch is on his arms, fingertips ice cold, groggy voice calling to him. 

“You awake?” he breathes in your ear. 

Feeling tickled, your shoulder rises to your ear. “Clearly,” you reply hoarsely. His thigh is glued to the back of yours, reaching back to hold it, you manage to slow his movements. His erection is fully pressed against you. “Everything okay?” 

“No.” He pants in your hair. “Need to fuck you.” 

“Leon,” you groan, face dropping fully into your pillow. “I’m too tired.” 

“Please, you don’t need to do anything.” 

“Don’t think I can even lift my leg.” 

“Then don’t. I’ll do everything. Lift your hips for a second so I can get this off?” 

“Fine,” you huff, rolling onto your stomach so his strong-willed hands can strip off your shorts along with your underwear. “We don’t have lube.” 

He drops a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll just have to prep you.” 

Ugh, so sweet. “Make it quick,” you say as he carefully sits on the backs of your thighs, his knees trapping your legs together. “How do we do this?” 

“Stay still,” he mumbles, barely audible. You grow impatient as you hear him moving in the dark, taking off his only piece of clothing. He reaches over to the bedside drawer to turn on the lamp. The blanket is scattered across the bed. You hiss sharply, eyes adjusting to the soft light. 

He holds your shoulders firmly. “What’s wrong?” 

“Why is it so cold?” 

Somehow, you can hear him grinning behind you. “The AC’s broken.” 

“Have you tried calling the reception? It’s too cold for this.” 

“I’ll warm you up,” he says as his heat hovers over you, fingers hiking up your flimsy camisole to gain access to your waist, the other hand shaking off the thin straps. He buries his nose into the back of your neck, kissing a path to your right shoulder, sharp teeth grazing skin along the way. He shifts his attention to your left shoulder, reaching down to cup your ass, pulling apart your cheeks. His fingers find your sex straight away; he’s familiar with your body. 

“You’re a bit wet for someone who’s feeling too tired,” he teases. 

You don’t bother with pleasantries. “I will leave you blue-balled for the rest of the week.” 

“Right,” he says. “Lift your head up.” 

“I just woke up, you’re asking for too much from me.” 

He nudges his nose into the back of your ear instead of answering. Kiss me, he demands, pressing his hips to your plushness. Familiar with his silent commands, you submit to his reign, craning your neck back, open mouth chasing his. 

Your mouths clash unceremoniously. It’s messy, sloven, uncoordinated, and animalistic. He finds your tongue in no time, suckling on the wet muscle all the while managing to lift your shoulders off the bed to drop your thin straps around your elbows, pulling your camisole down. Now your top sits below your naked breasts, bunched around your middle like a thick headband. Leon’s jaw moves as if he’s thirsty, drinking from your mouth unapologetically. The noises from your so-called kissing are obscene, filling the room along with the sounds of heavy breathing. Heat starts to pool in your lower belly, body slowly warming up. 

Quick as a wink, a strong hand wraps around the back of your neck, pushing you face down to the mattress. Your surprised yelp into your pillow is cut short once he pulls your hair gently, laughing next to your ear. “Don’t want you to suffocate. Try to keep your head up. Can you do that for me, honey?” 

Rolling your eyes, you bite back a remark. Resting your cheek on the pillow is all he’s going to get. After all, he did tell you that you didn’t need to do anything. Your crushed breasts feel funny, one side aching considerably more than the other, owing to him groping it roughly while you were sleeping. 

Leon lets out a low chuckle and continues his undeterred path from your jaw to your neck, nipping at skin, leaving a stinging sensation behind. His knees make room for your squirming legs, a perfect chance for him to dip his hand between your thighs, a slight part of your legs to accommodate his fingers on your cunt. Rubbing your lower lips, he slicks his fingers with your wetness. 

Your breath hitches when two pads of fingers make contact with your clit, drawing tight circles. “That feel good?” His voice is muffled by your skin. 

You groan a noise of confirmation as he puts more pressure on his fingertips, quickening his movements on your now soaked pussy. His thumb catches at your entrance, maybe accidentally, and you can’t hold yourself back from pursuing that pleasure, back arching so your hips could sway up, chasing his touch. Thankfully, he is quick to place his thumb back, swiping back and forth. The double stimulation on your opening and clit creates enough lubrication for him to slide right in. 

Your eagerness doesn’t go unnoticed by Leon, the feel of his teeth on your earlobe is a wary appreciation. “Too tired, huh? Look at you.” He means your hips in the air, quivering right in front of his view. “Lemme help you relax.” 

You think he’ll finally thrust himself in, however, you’re taken by surprise when he works two fingers into you, the stretch unexpected, but appreciated nonetheless. He shoves your hips back down into the mattress, arm across the small of your back to keep you steady against the bed. “Don’t be disappointed. I need to open you up first,” he speaks into your temple, nose pressed to the tail of your eyebrow. He starts moving his fingers in and out. “Don’t want you to hurt.” 

He grabs a handful of your ass to pull apart while working your cunt open with his fingers. Your whole body feels electrified each time he strokes the velvety walls of your pussy, throat humming with need. 

“Leon…” you moan, wanting to arch into him. Your desperate hand slides under your belly to touch your clit. “Enough.” 

But that’s not what you want to tell him. You want to tell him this is not enough, he needs to be inside you right now or you will start to wail, turn over and jump his bones. This is quite the opposite from where everything started, with you worked up and fussy in his hands, unable to speak properly. 

You feel him watching his own hand between your legs, ears perked up for the sounds coming from where you are gushing, shallowing his thrusts once he feels your fingers join in. “Enough? You don’t want to come first?” 

“S’cold,” you cry out. “Fuck me already.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, honey,” he coos at you, pulling his soaked digits out of you, head rising to meet with your parted lips. The arm around your waist slides up, fingers gently digging into your scalp to hold you in place as he kisses you, using the fingers he just pulled out of you to slick up his cock. He moans into your mouth before pulling away. 

“You have me. Ready?” 

You nod into the pillow. 

As he presses his swollen tip into you, he watches the back of your head tip back with a shiver, your neck exposed for him to reach and grab. Instead, he wraps his arm around your neck in a gentle headlock, helping you rest your cheek on his bicep, the movement helping him slip further inside you. 

Hot, bullish breaths burrow into your neck when he is buried to the hilt, balls pressed against your clit and fingers that are spreading yourself. 

“Fuck, you smell so good,” he whispers, his torso meeting your back. 

He presses his entire weight down onto you and it is glorious, being trapped between him and the mattress, surrounded by his body heat with no room to flee. Not that you even consider it. Though your wrist, strained under the weight, digs into your pelvis as he begins to thrust feverishly. “Oh, fuck,” he grunts. 

Your mouth opens to let him know of the awkward position your arm is in but you only manage to moan wantonly. He takes it as a cue to snap his hips faster. 

“Wait, Leon—my wrist.” 

He stops completely, lifting his hips slightly for you to pull your arm out from underneath, dropping a kiss in your hair as an apology. “Fuck, sorry. Forgot your hand was there. Are you good? Am I too heavy?” 

Your hands fist around the sheets to brace yourself. He did not pull himself fully out of you, you just want him to fill you to the brim again. Even though you don’t know if you can come like this. “No, I’m good. Let’s continue.” 

As your wish comes true, his hips pick up a frenzied pace, the bed starts to shake. You don’t know how he manages it, you’re immobilized under him, high on the pleasurable feeling. Your poor nipples are chafing against the sheets with all the movement. The noises escaping your lips are embarrassingly loud, mingling with the creaky springs of the hotel bed. He doesn’t hold back either, sucking love-bites wherever his mouth can reach, moaning against your spit-lacquered skin. Palms sliding under your shoulders to hold you even closer, he squeezes you to himself while letting his weight push you hard into the mattress. 

It’s as if he wants to open up his chest and tuck you beneath his ribs, or crawl beneath your skin from behind, until you both become one. 

His pace falters, you squeak as he bottoms out, walls pulsing around him. He must have been desperately horny, for he is spitting out delirious things in your ear. “Fuck, fuck, fuck— you look so cute. You always do.” 

“Huh?” 

Rather than addressing your confusion, he leans in your face. One hand cups your jaw, guiding your face to his, squishing your cheeks together until your lips are puckered, ready for him to attack, though it’s a pleasant assault of kisses. “You’re so—” Kiss. “Soft.” Kiss. “It makes me crazy.” Kiss. “And you always smell so good.” Kiss. 

“Leon, what’s gotten into you—mmph!” 

He doesn’t care about what you have to say about his raving state; instead, he crashes his lips to yours for a longer, deeper kiss. His strong arm hugs your neck again, cradling you to himself. You swallow his animalistic groan when your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling on the tresses while trying to squirm. His hair has gotten so long; a luxury of taking time off work. 

His hips start to grind, precise snaps eliciting small sounds out of both of you, his cock massaging your innermost crevices. 

“You’re like an angel,” he whispers in your mouth, panting wildly. “You feel like heaven. God, I love you. I can’t believe—shit, I’m close. I’m gonna come. Tell me where to come.” 

If he wasn’t literally in your face, you might have missed it—that sacred, dangerous word slipping past his lips as if it was an everyday occurrence. 

It didn’t even register at first, partly because it happened so quickly and partly because it made you clamp down on him with an intense ripple of pleasure, causing him to grunt. 

Losing all strength in your muscles, you sag against his arm on the pillow, neck too numb to keep your head up, feet plopping down with a pat. When did you lift your feet up? 

Like a snap of a thread, his demeanor changes instantly. Concerned, he brushes your hair away from your face hastily. “Baby, did you just come?” 

A sound resembling “yes” is murmured into your pillow, your whole body feeling prickly upon the fondness in his voice, spasming uncontrollably. He’s still inside you, reaching incredibly deep, hip bones digging into the meat of your ass, caging you in his warmth. 

“Didn’t even need me to touch your clit,” he says. There’s that smugness in his tone, like he didn’t just rock your whole world. 

Feeling fuzzy around the edges, you remember his need to have a release, and words rush out without much thought, “Inside. Come inside.” 

The faint rhythm of his hips turn sloppy upon hearing you. He’s gasping, “Are you sure?” 

“Yes, I’m on the pill.” 

“Fuck. Thank you, baby.” 

His face finds home in your neck again. It’s not long before you feel the thick trickle of warmth filling you up. Coming to his senses, his arms loosen around you, waiting for his breathing to turn to normal. 

You can sleep like this, you think. With him literally in your skin, smothered under his delectable weight. It’s calming. 

Eventually, he pulls out and rolls over on his back, the absence of his weight feels oddly sad. He turns his neck towards you. “That was… something else. How are you feeling?” 

You stretch your arms, sliding them under your pillow. “Like I’ve just run a marathon. And I didn’t even move much.” 

“Now that you’re properly tired, you’re gonna sleep like a log.” He chuckles, throwing an arm on his forehead. 

You slide a hand between your legs, knitting your eyebrows, reconsidering. “We need to clean up first.” 

“Right,” he sighs. “I promised you I wouldn’t make you move, didn’t I? Wait here.”

Before you can say anything, he gets up from the bed, picks up his underwear from the ground and heads to the bathroom. You don’t move in case the viscid fluids threaten to leak onto the bed. He comes back with a few rolled-up toilet papers and a damp towel, with his underwear on. He sits on the edge of the bed next to you. 

You spread your legs as he holds up the rolled-up toilet papers to your dripping entrance. “Push it out.” 

You squeeze out the mixture of you and him. Your cheeks flare up, not because of embarrassment. But because of something else. Him instructing you with a raspy voice shouldn’t get you fired up, your limbs are still weak from the earth-shattering orgasm he pulled out of you, but your body reacts on its own volition. 

“I didn’t know you were on the pill,” he continues as he wipes down your sweat with the towel. 

“A recent development,” you say, eyes heavy with sleepiness. “Started it a while ago, I meant to tell you.” 

“That’s fine.” He cleans up the residue between your thighs lastly. The pressure of his touch is so careful, in case you’re overstimulated. “Honestly, I think I found out about it in the best way.” 

A small chuckle from you eases his heart. The image of you lying naked on your belly, your head turned to the side with bleary eyes is like a painting to him. He leans down and places a gentle kiss between your shoulder blades. 

“Can I wake you up in the morning?” he mutters into your skin before hoisting your camisole to its place on your shoulders. 

You understand his implication. “Yeah, but no sooner than eight or I’ll be super cranky.” 

“We’ll miss breakfast.” 

“Breakfast or sex. The choice is yours.” 

“Room service it is.” 

Eventually, he finds your panties and shorts under the blankets, lifts them up over your hips, and finishes dressing you.

You give him a smile, fingers resting on your lips as you ponder. “I have something to ask you.”

“I know,” he replies, too quickly. He’s aware of the things he’s just said. “I know you want to talk about it. But I feel awful for disturbing your sleep. You’re tired. We can talk all you want in the morning. Just know that I meant it.” 

“C’mere,” you whisper, rolling onto your side to reach out to him.

This time, it’s Leon who seeks warmth, succumbing to the balmy caress of your hand as you pull him in.

The kiss is too soft, too fragile, and he wants it to linger forever. 

He’s offended when you pull away abruptly. But that feeling is short-lived as you turn your head away to sneeze twice. “Bless you,” he says. 

Deep down inside, remembering he changed the settings of the AC, he rolls his eyes at himself. He gets up and turns it off, throwing the soiled toilet papers in the trash on his way. “I’ll call the reception the first thing tomorrow.” 

Leon is insatiable. 

The first things he notices when he opens his crusty eyes is his morning wood and the deep red hues scattered across the back of your neck in front of his face. Wiping the sleep from his eyes with one hand—the other arm trapped under your neck—he presses himself to your backside. A repeat of what started everything. 

He retracts after letting out a low growl into your hair, only to roll you on your back by your shoulders. You’re still asleep, muscles all soft and pliant under his maneuvering. So pretty, he thinks. The tiny flutter of your eyelashes casts soft, quivering shadows on the apples of your cheeks as warm sunlight streams into the room through a narrow gap in the curtains. Hovering over you between your legs, he cups your face, thumbs caressing the dainty shadows. His breaths fan your face as a gentle nudge to your slumber. 

“Baby…” he croaks, voice all ragged from hours of disuse over the night. 

Even in your sleep you seek out his touch, nuzzling your face into his palm, rousing something carnal in him. His lips get to work on your throat briskly, sucking the delicate skin, humming against it. 

He feels the vibrations of the mellow sound your throat gives out against his lips and continues the path down to your clavicle, leaving ruddy blemishes behind. Rubbing up and down on your thighs, his palms curve behind the backs of your knees, bending them to spread your legs completely open against the bed. He presses his hard-on to your center. 

Your cunt must be sore, he’ll kiss it better. 

He mouths at the tops of your breasts, palms fondling them up in his face. “I’ll take care of you,” he whispers, though you’re too drowsy to hear. 

His head slips down the blanket, your cover slides down your body as it gets caught on his broad back, opening an airway for him. 

He starts littering kisses on the inside of your thigh, beginning from your knee and continuing the path up to your groin, pulling back each time his nose touches the verge of your panties. He looks up expectantly to see you stir. Because once he sees you awake, he’ll devour you. 

You are stirring, head lolling in an attempt to turn on your side. Leon’s hands quickly clamp down on your thighs, “Nuh-uh.” He denies you, keeping your hips still. His mouth switches to your other thigh, repeating his ministrations. 

His teeth graze the edge of your underwear. Your leg twitches under his touch, which further encourages his sudden urge. 

Blunt teeth sink into the soft, supple flesh of your inner thigh. 

That seems to wake you up as your head jerks, hand flying to his hair between your legs under the blanket. “Ow.” 

“Morning.” His tongue darts out to soothe the dull ache. 

With heavy eyelids, you crane your neck to assess the situation. His lips are slick and plump from all the kissing and biting. “Mhm. Good morning.” Yawning, you cover your mouth with the back of your hand, the other one cards through Leon’s hair lazily. As your grip tightens, you drop your head back to the pillow to blink away the haziness. 

The sounds of his lips smacking against your skin are accompanied by the fan noises filling the room. You realize you’re no longer sweating like you were through the night, when the broken air-conditioning left you sweltering—or would have had you freezing if it were actually running. You’re confused. “AC’s working again?” 

You feel him smiling against your thigh. “Yeah. Called the reception and everything.” 

“What was wrong with it?” 

“I’m literally in between your legs and that’s what you wanna know? Like, right now?” He nuzzles your underwear, placing a kiss on your clothed center to stress his frustration, which you reply with a startled whimper. 

“First, I risked frostbite and then sweated like it was hell. Of fucking course I wanna know the reason of my suffering.” 

“You didn’t suffer,” he says in a jeering tone, fingers hooking under your panties to peel them off. He’s quick to get rid of that obstructive piece of fabric. “I’d say I took pretty good care of you.” 

You roll your eyes dramatically. “Yeah, yeah—world’s best husband or whatever, keeps waking me up because he’s horny.” 

“Hey, you said breakfast or pussy and I made my choice.” 

He licks a path up from your entrance to your clit, your hips jump. He grips your thighs and slings them over his shoulders. 

“I did not say that.” Words slurred, your eyes close upon the honeyed sensation. 

“Something along those lines,” he mumbles, lips brushing against the sensitive little bud of nerves. 

You kick the blanket off his back so he doesn’t suffocate under the heat. The slight temperature change makes your hips jerk up to his face, his morning stubble scratches the insides of your thighs deliciously. He drapes an arm across your abdomen to keep you steady. His other arm tugs on the thigh slung over his shoulder, only slightly, to make room for his head. 

Two fingers brush your slit, spreading apart slowly to gain access to your most sensitive parts. It’s still a little tender and swollen that when his hot breath fans across the sensitive flesh, your legs try to shut instinctively. His hold grows stronger to remind you not to squash his head. He licks a broad swipe up your slit and looks up at you through his long lashes. 

You can’t help but moan. He looks so pretty like this. 

Leaning forward, he places a kiss directly on your clitoris, the soft smack sound sends a hot burn to your ears. 

He parts his lips to suck your sensitive clit into his mouth, your back arches as you gasp. His plump lips pull on the taut flesh, making you writhe against the sheets. Now aware of your fist that was bunching the sheets this whole time, you let go to join it with your other hand in his hair.  

He’s always liked your hands in his hair, petting it, tugging at it, pulling it to steer him to where you need him most, he loves it all. He moans as you make a mess of his soft tresses, sending jolts of vibrations up your body. 

Relaxing his tight jaw with a wet pop, he quickly drops a kiss to the juncture of your thigh and begins to lap up your dripping mound like a starved man. 

“Leon!” Your back arches again, hands buried in his hair pressing his face firmly between your legs. You’re not sure if he can even breathe with your thighs caging him. You don’t care, he’ll tap you if he wants to take a breather. 

Blindly, the hand that keeps your slit open slides up to your chest, to push between the valley of your breasts. You clutch your palm on the back of his hand, fingers slotting between his. He squeezes his hand once. I’m alright, it means. He keeps your intertwined hands there. 

His face burrows deeper into your slick, thrusting his tongue into your hole in and out. Nose pressed against your clit, he hums contentedly and starts wiggling his head, sending a wave of pleasure through your body. 

The gasps that fall from your lips fuel him, he drags his tongue back up to your sensitive bud, flicking up and down with only one goal in his mind. 

Up and down. Suck. Up and down. Suck. 

“Too much, ‘s too much!” You repeat with a shaky voice. But you are insatiable too, with the way you guide his hand to your tit, encouraging him to squeeze tight. 

“I know, baby, I know. Just tell me when,” he rasps, trying to keep up with your bucking hips. Groping your breast under your pressing palm, he can’t quite reach to your shoulder to lower the straps of your top, though his fingers find your taut nipple through the fabric and start to draw circles around the pebbled peak. 

His stubble burns your thighs so good it only drives you more crazy. Your droopy eyes lock with his determined ones, mouth hanging open in a silent moan, hand brushing away the hair on his forehead. 

He tightens his tongue and places the tip of it right on your sensitive clit, wriggling the wet muscle in a snake-like fashion, and listens to your moans. Each roll of his tongue is a sweet torment, delivering sparks of pleasure to your quivering body. 

“That’s not—ah!—that’s not fair.” 

His mouth never leaving your pussy, he hums questioningly. “Mm?” The short syllable vibrates through your core, making you fussier. 

What’s not fair? His hips grinding into the mattress? The hand that previously held you down now slipping under his boxers to rub his slick, swollen tip? Fairness is not even the last thing on his mind right now. He’s too drunk on your essence, happily suffocated between your legs, unaware of the fast pace his hand picks up on his cock. He’s fully pumping himself. 

You also know you’re not making any sense. A hot blush warms your chest, travels up your neck to your ears, a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin. Your body is screaming for release, of course you don’t have any idea what you are blabbering about. 

Feeling your clit pulse beneath his tongue, he waits to hear your staccato breathing, waits for the tumble of unintelligible words to fall on his ears. 

“Leon, I’m… I’m—ah, fuck!” 

Just before the intense wave of pleasure comes crashing down on you, he tears his mouth away from you, panting for oxygen. 

“No, please,” you cry out. “Don’t be mean.” 

Not wanting to deny you stimulation, he gets to work on your tit and gives it a firm squeeze for good measure before returning his fingers to your aching nipple. He toys with it, flicking, pressing down, pinching through fabric. You whine softly through it all, trying to wrap your trembling legs tighter around his head so he could return to what he was doing before. 

“Please, I was about to come…” 

“I know, honey, I’m sorry. I needed to breathe.” He plucks at your nipple, rolling it before returning to your sex. 

This time he alternates between kitten licks and soft kisses on your clit, meant to be soothing. It feels as if he’s grazing a feather on your oversensitive, swelled up nerves. It’s so ticklish that your hips jump to chase after the phantom itch. 

That’s all it takes for the overwhelming waves of pleasure to come crashing down on you. The coil in your belly snaps. Eager as ever, he presses his open and panting mouth against your cunt, moaning against the spasming flesh. Cleaning up the remnants of your climax is only a poor excuse for his lips to linger. He presses a kiss to your thigh before pulling away from between your legs, the slick coating his mouth and chin leaves your skin damp. 

Taking a deep breath, he rises to sit on his knees between your thighs. Your legs drop from his shoulders. Pride fills his chest once he eyes up the litter of love-bites on your flushed skin. His doing. The rapid rise and fall of your chest. Also his doing. 

Through a fucked-out smile, you say, “What? What’s so funny?” 

Unaware that he’s cheesing, he shakes his head. “Nothing, honey. You look so pretty.” 

“I feel nasty, though.” 

He shuts you up with a kiss, making you taste yourself on his tongue. 

“Mm… How about you?” you mumble into the kiss while ruffling his soft hair. 

His hips are grinding against his hand in a faint rhythm, palm stroking up and down slowly. He huffs. “Keep spreading your legs and it won’t take long.” 

Discerning the questioning raise of your brow, he swipes a thumb at the corner of your lip. “I’m not gonna put it in. I know you’re sensitive, baby. Trust me. Please?” 

You wiggle a bit to open your legs further, trying to find a comfortable spot on the bed because the way he kept pinning you has you feeling sores on your butt. “Yeah, okay.” 

Lining himself up against your slit, he hovers his cock above your puffy cunt and keeps stroking. He groans and bucks into his hand, head falling backwards. You whimper and bunch the sheets in your fists. He looks so hot. His hair is chaotically messy, lips swollen and slick, hand working desperately on his cock. Your pussy flutters at the sight. 

Eyes zeroing in on your center, he says, “Show me. Hold yourself open.” 

You reach down and spread yourself for him, shamelessly displaying what he wants. Your hole clenches down on nothing upon the little stretch, pulling another groan out of him. 

He’s grinning, head tilted to the side. “Fuck, that’s it. Like what you see, huh?” 

You nod fast, staring at the movement between your legs. It’s captivating. 

Feeling devious, you lift your hips slightly to touch your pulsing clit to his red tip, directly to his precum-coated slit. Like a featherlight kiss. It sends a pleasurable shock through your entire body, you plop down on the bed again. 

“Oh shit—you…” His expression tells you he’s very close.

Gripping your thigh, he jerks himself to completion against your twitching pussy. Thick spurts of cum coat your center and belly, your thighs get to have their fair share, too. 

A breathless laugh escapes him, like he can’t quite believe what just happened. His gaze softens, as though clearing a daze. “I’m sorry. Let me carry you to the bathroom.”

A quiet shift lingers in the air. 

He’s so silent while massaging shampoo into your hair, cocooned by your arms around his waist, water cascading over his back. His lips are set in a straight line, eyes roaming your face and coming back to meet your gaze every once in a while. 

You and him, in that sacred, safe haven again. 

I can hear you think. He wills you to speak without saying the words. 

“You don’t need to be scared.” 

His hands pause in your hair. Of what? 

“The things you said at the beach yesterday… You don’t need to be scared, Leon. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you,” you continue. 

He pulls you closer, cups the back of your neck and rests your head on his shoulder. I love you. 

“And I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing your face. I miss it terribly when you’re away.” You nudge his neck with your nose. 

He closes his eyes. I love you. 

“Tell me a truth?” you whisper, watching the slow up and down of his Adam’s apple. 

The urge to draw you even closer to himself is too strong. Come, live inside my skin—I’m yours, anyway. Instead, he opens his heavy-lidded eyes, locking his gaze with yours. 

“I love you.” 

With a slow and languid kiss, he seals his lips to yours, weaving your souls together in that tranquil, infinite moment. 

“At times I think of human relationships as something soft like sand or water, and by pouring them into particular vessels we give them shape.”

― Sally Rooney, Beautiful World, Where Are You

[kitteyduck]

I’m very late to plastic beach 15th anniversary,,, I’m working on something rn LOL but for now have some old pb drawings I made last year

[robinsno1lesbian]

I want Robin to teach the reader how to use a strap in the WORST way. Experienced Robin teaching us how to put it on and take her apart? Please 🥵

𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞! ᯓᡣ𐭩

- r.b. x reader

summary: robin teaches reader how to use the strap on her! (1.4k)

warnings: SMUT!! (mdni), strap-on sex (robin receiving), finger sucking, use of pet names (baby, good girl), established relationship, not a warning but i literally finished this at the beach and did not beta read so….anyway, let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: i started writing this forever ago (like…last year??) & figured i’d make it a part of my summer fanfics! find my summer fic masterlist here & feel free to send your own requests! <3

experienced robin who helps you put on the strap for the first time. you’re all shy about it, unsure of where to put your hands, but she’s being so gentle and patient with you. she kisses the buckles of the harness, whispering words of encouragement to you as she secures them in place.

“such a pretty girl”, “just look at you”, “so beautiful and all for me hm?”. she taps her index finger against the different parts, explaining how they are supposed to sit against your body, how they will fit inside hers.

you wish to hide your face in her soft, soothing pillows against your back. but robin shedding her clothes right in front of you is too good of a sight to see.

“still okay?” she breathes once she’s straddling your thighs, open mouth ghosting along your jaw slowly. the plastic cock is resting against her belly like this, flush against her freckled skin.

you nod, “yes”, and even with both eyes closed you can sense the soft smile that curls up her lips when she hears your approval.

“good” robin hums as she places a featherlight kiss to the side of your neck. the gesture draws another shuddered breath from you. “open up, baby”

you blink against the warm light that floods your vision when you open your eyes. she’s holding out her fingers, head tilted slightly. you know what she wants immediately.

obediently, you part your lips for the girl on top of you. robin runs her hands through your hair, soothing you with a proud hum when you take her fingers into your mouth and feel them press down on your tongue.

“that’s it” she coos. they feel good against you, a firm pressure at the pack of your throat. robin makes sure they’re nice and wet before she withdraws them. she brings the saliva stained digits down, all the way down, until she wraps them around the silicone that’s strapped to your body. the side of her nose brushes yours playfully whilst she pumps her fist along the length of the toy, using your spit to lube it up. she presses a quick kiss to your lips, smiling against your mouth sweetly, before she removes her hand from around the silicone shaft and sits up on her knees.

“i’m gonna-“ she reaches around the strap and lines it up with her entrance. you haven’t felt it yourself yet, but given her confidence, you’re almost certain she’s soaked. “…sit now. okay?”

“mhm” you nearly whimper through tight lips.

“good girl” she says, lowering her body onto the toy. the words morph into a satisfying sigh as they fall from her lips. robin’s lashes flutter and her jaw goes slack when she takes the toy in as far as it’ll go, until her body sits flush against yours. she remains silent for a second, adjusting to the new sensation, before she looks down at you. she smiles breathlessly, then, and cups your face in her hands.

she wiggles her hips from left to right slightly, trying to find the perfect angle on top of you. all you can do is watch, stunned by the mere sight above you. the only thing she’s wearing is the necklace you gave her as an anniversary gift: a delicate silver chain with a charm dangling from it. the first letter of your name, right between robin’s breasts. claiming her as yours.

her arm, dusted in freckles like the rest of her, comes down to rest her palm against the headboard behind you. you’re still unsure where to put your own hands; too many places to choose from, a seemingly endless amount of skin exposed to you just like that.

“you’re so pretty” you finally manage and run your hands up her side. robin shivers. she runs her free hand over your rosy cheeks, letting you adjust to the new situation as well.

“mhm” robin murmurs. “okay? can i move baby?”

“more than okay” you manage, your voice cracking weakly.

“here” she offers and guides your hands to her hips. “hold me like this and-“

she lifts herself up, just to drop her weight back down onto the strap on, your thighs nestling against hers.

“oh” robin moans. her head falls back and her eyes close when the toy strokes against her g-spot. your hands instinctively tighten against her hips. you want to guide her, watch her as she bounces on it, chasing her own pleasure.

she arches her back and raises her hips, thrusting down on you again and again until she’s built a steady rhythm.

“yes, yes, yes” she chants every time her skin slaps against yours. “oh my god, y/n, baby, that’s so good”

with your confidence (as well as your arousal) growing from the praise, you hold onto her hips and shyly lift your own body to fuck the toy into her deeper. robin moans, loud, when to find the exact angle that seems to do it for her. her pussy throbs and you’re almost certain you can feel her arousal against yourself each time her weight drops.

in the heat of the moment the two of you are creating, robin’s mouth still manages to find yours. it’s all tongue and teeth, her hand grabbing your cheeks and pulling your lips apart with her thumb.

“i love you” she moans and you can only watch in fascination when her pretty, blue eyes roll back in pleasure. her bangs are stuck to the sweat on her forehead and her chest rises and falls rapidly. she’s mesmerizing like this. she always is, really, but this might be your new favorite sight to see. “i love you, i love you, i love you”

you’re panting too, even though robin’s the one doing most of the work; riding you so prettily. you can hear it each time the strap sinks back inside her, her cunt squelching with her arousal.

“i love you too”

“fuck” robin moans, her voice even raspier than usual. “fuck baby this is so good”

your own cunt is pulsing, aching to be touched, to get any sort of relief after watching your girlfriend lose it like that for the very first time. you’re pretty sure it’ll leave a stain on her sheets; you can already feel it leaking from your body.

“you’re doing s’good” robin praises, grunting in both exhaustion and pleasure above you. “making me feel so good baby- shit-“

you can sense her pace faltering: her hips stutter and her thighs tremble, a sign that she’s getting closer to her release. you know this won’t do it yet though.

carefully, you put your fingers between her thighs. a gasp falls from your lips when you feel her wetness smeared all over her inner thighs.

“holy shit”

“touch me baby” she urges. “so close. be a good girl and touch me”

you swallow and rub your index and middle finger in slow circles around her stiff clit, matching the pace of her body against your own. robin whines and lets her forehead fall against yours. she’s no longer bouncing on your strap, just rutting back against it in short, desperate thrusts while chasing her release.

“gonna cum baby” she moans. “you’re gonna make me cum. you’re gonna make me cum!”

you nod, it’s all you can do in your trance like state, and press your fingers against her clit so she can grind her hips against them however she wants.

“baby baby baby” she babbles breathlessly, her head tilting backwards. “fuck- fuck s’good- i’m gonna- i’m cumming”

robin comes with a shout of your name, her eyes pinched shut tightly. you feel her release gush around the strap and over your thighs but you can’t be bothered to turn your gaze away. she’s beautiful when she cums, yet you’ve never seen her quite like this: with her hair clinging to her face -contorted in pleasure- and her thighs trembling around yours when her hips still eventually. robin keeps grinding against the cock, dragging her clit against your fingers while the pleasure washes over her.

finally, she drops her weight against you, and you wrap your arms around her warm, shaking body.

“fuck y/n” she mumbles against the crook of your neck. you can feel the pebbled skin of her nipples press against your body.

“earth to robin” you chuckle, huffing out a gentle chuckle.

“i’m good” the other girl assures you, her lips pressing the softest of kisses against your skin right where her mouth rests against your shoulder. “so good baby. was that okay?”

“okay?” you repeat, almost in disbelief. “baby that was-“ you stammer, trying to find the words to articulate just how ‘okay’ it was.

robin chuckles and you feel the vibrations of the noise against your chest.

“come here” she murmurs, lifting herself up to meet your lips halfway.

[angryplebianart]

Happy birthday Plastic Beach!! This will (hopefully) not be my only art for the anniversary, but I figured I would get this out quick before I went to bed 😁🩵💚

[anon-agent]

15 years 15 years 15 years

Plastic Beach birthday has arrived! I love this album, and just phase in general, and I truly think we'll never get anything like it again.

Listening to Plastic Beach fills me with both comfort and dread 10/10

This also marks my 1 year anniversary of drawing Gorillaz! Hoping to continue drawing them for many years to come!!

[happinessismusic]

On Feb. 5, the country superstar kicked off his Las Vegas residency show at Caesars Palace’s Colosseum, and he wasted no time, coming on stage to "Pour Me a Drink," his song with Post Malone.

“This is a big deal for me. This is the first night of my very first residency anywhere. It just happens to be at Caesars. That’s pretty cool,” he told the crowd of 4,300.

“I’ve been coming to Las Vegas for a long, long time, so I know what my job is here tonight. I know what we’re all doing here," added Shelton. "We’re here to make memories that we’re going to pretend like we don’t remember, and my job tonight is to provide a soundtrack for your trip to Las Vegas.”

The 90-minute show was classic Shelton, as he rattled off hit after hit from his deep catalog, sipped booze from a plastic black cup on stage and often bantered with the crowd. During one moment, he noticed a fan’s custom-made t-shirt that said: "Still not a Swiftie. I’m a Sheltie.”

“That’s gonna be a YouTube moment. That’s gonna be on social media,” he said after reading the shirt’s message out loud. “Taylor Swift’s gonna have me killed.”

Still, Shelton brought the crowd alive while energetically playing newer songs, such as "Texas," but he also thrilled the crowd with classics, such as "Austin," "Some Beach" and "Home." He also delved into several duets with his wife, Gwen Stefani, who harmonized with her husband in a prerecorded video on an oversized screen behind him.

“This is too much fun to be work,” he said later in the show. “There’s some kind of added pressure when you do Las Vegas, like everybody is waiting for the trapeze people or some dancers to come down.”

By the end of the evening, Shelton was flying high from his no-frills, all-substance concert, telling the crowd it was a night he’ll “never forget.”

While the six-show run is a long time coming, Shelton recently joked that he has to use the word “residency” delicately around Stefani, who had a three-year residency show in Vegas from 2018 to 2021. In total, she performed her Just a Girl show 57 times.

“Gwen actually says I’m not allowed to call that a residency because it’s only six shows,” he told the crowd after recently celebrating the one-year anniversary of his Ole Red bar, which sits kitty-corner from Caesars Palace. “I don’t want to wear out my welcome.”

Shelton takes the Vegas stage again Feb. 7, 8, 12, 14 and 15.

[oopsallgoalies]

Snitches Get Stitches: Chapter 10

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: Jake Seresin, golden boy of the NHL and Captain of the Dallas Stars makes headlines when he unexpectedly signs with newly-formed San Diego Dogfighters. When your future seems at the verge of crashing down, you receive the opportunity of a lifetime to become the team physician for the Dogfighters. You never expected to be working directly with your favorite hockey player. Jake has a secret and you have a job to do. Will he be able to trust you enough to help and will you be able to trust him with your heart?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, violence, sports violence, medical stuff, blood probably, angst, fluff, (eventual) smut, forbidden romance, sexual harassment, suggestive language, medical inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: This is a repost of my completed series, Snitches Get Stitches. It was originally posted in October-November 2023, and was lost when my blog was deleted.

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

You’ve spent the last two weeks out of work. You’d called Maverick the morning after your accident, explaining your situation and he’d appointed Jake to keep an eye on you since if you wouldn’t be there to work with him there was little reason for him to come into work. He said he’d explain your situation to Cyclone and you couldn’t help but worry even though no one but Zam and Javy knew you were recovering in Jake’s house, in his bed. The first couple of days had made you lightly stir-crazy as Jake insisted on you getting complete rest, and while you were content to spend the day curled up in bed with your boyfriend, the logical part of your brain was panicking. Jake compromised by bringing a mat from his home gym into the bedroom and performing stretches under your watchful eye. By the end of the first week, you were up and moving around again, and the cuddling extended to the living room, Jake getting creative with at-home dates for the two of you. From homemade pizza and a movie to evening strolls along the beach behind the house with Pudding, the two of you were making the absolute most of your time together. After the incident in the bathroom, however, Jake had been keeping his distance sexually. You both knew “strenuous physical activity” was off the table until you were fully healed so the two of you had agreed to pump the brakes for the time being and take things slow. Not that you didn’t spend every night curled in the safety of his arms, but some sacrifices had to be made. Jake had teasingly marked the Sunday before the two-week anniversary of your accident on his calendar as “D-Day” with a winky face since you’d be returning to work the day after. You’d teased him endlessly for his childishness but a part of you was just as excited as he was. Keeping your hands off him wasn’t easy when you spent every minute of every day with him and you hadn’t helped by escalating things in the bathroom that day.

Now D-Day was tomorrow and you were making some final preparations that Jake was blissfully ignorant of. The two of you had continued physical therapy at home and Jake’s knee was healing well. So well that he was out right now walking the dogs all by himself while you and Zam were sprawled across from each other on the couch while she filled you in on all the goings on at work. She’d stopped by your apartment on her way here to pick you up some things you’d asked for.

“You got everything?” You ask as you sort through the bag as quickly as you can, glancing at the front door to make sure Jake isn’t back yet. You don’t want to ruin the surprise. Zam grins conspiratorially.

“Well almost all of it, let’s just say I took some creative liberties with the last item.” You raise an eyebrow before you feel your fingers brush plastic wrap at the bottom of the bag and you pull out the mysterious package, your breath catching as you realize what it is and you look up at Zam in surprise.

“They arrived?!” She nods, squealing in excitement as you tear into the plastic wrap and unfurl the fabric inside. The jersey is predominantly olive green with gray sleeves and golden accents with the Dogfighters logo in the center. You turn it around to see the golden number 86 on the back and SERESIN emblazoned above it. “Oh Zam, it’s perfect!” You squeal as you hug the fabric to your chest, burying your cheek against it.

“Remember, that’s his official one, okay? He has to wear that at games so don’t do anything TOO freaky with it.” You roll your eyes, cheeks flushing slightly. “The first round of official merch should be coming in next week, so I’ll make sure to set aside one for you if you tell me what size you want.”

“You say that like you haven’t already checked the one in my closet and have the size memorized.”

She shrugs. “Just giving you a chance to speak now or forever hold your peace.” You shake your head just as you hear the creak of the front door and fold the jersey as quickly as you can before burying it back in the duffel bag, pulling the zipper shut just as a chorus of happy barks greet your ears. Pudding and Roxie bound over to you as Jake hangs up the leashes and takes off his shoes. “Who’s this?” Zam exclaims as a dachshund rounds the couch and attempts to climb the couch as Pudding nudges her nose under the smaller dog’s butt, boosting her onto the couch before climbing up and throwing herself across your lap. You laugh as you shower her in pets while Zam gives attention to the jealous brown bundle she’s scooped into her lap.

“That’s Roxie,” Jake explains as he rounds the couch, placing a kiss on your cheek as he squeezes in next to you. “She’s Javy’s little girl.”

“WHAT?” Zam is shocked as she pauses her cuddling of Roxie who takes massive offense to the gesture and nips at Zam’s hand impatiently. “Javy Machado, puck slut extraordinaire, is a doggy daddy?” You burst out laughing at her reaction as Jake nods solemnly. “How come I’ve never heard anything about this before? I did my research and it’s VERY thorough.”

You roll your eyes at that. “He keeps her super private because he doesn’t want her to tarnish his playboy reputation. At least that’s what he says.” You shrug.

“So where is he tonight, then?” Zam asks as she resumes petting Roxie.

It's Jake’s turn to roll his eyes. “He’s spending the weekend in Cabo with some girls he met at a bar on Wednesday.”

“He’s in CABO? He has work on Monday, he knows this right?” Zam exclaims, eyes wide with shock. Jake nods.

“He wanted one last offseason hurrah before the season starts.”

“So you’re watching his dog?”

“Actually, he watches her whenever Javy hooks up with someone.” You clarify and Zam groans, rolling her eyes.

“Is this poor girl EVER at home?” Jake chuckles at that. Zam pauses for a moment, and you can see the gears turning in her head before she looks up at the two of you, light twinkling in her eyes. “Actually! She might be the key to fixing Javy’s reputation!” Jake raises an eyebrow and she continues. “There’s nothing the media loves more than a big guy and his small dog! Do you think he’d bring her to the arena sometime? Maybe to a game?” Jake shakes his head, sighing.

“He doesn’t even keep her at home when he has girls over, I doubt he’d bring her anywhere where there’ll be press.” Zam groans.

“Well maybe we can convince him, and by we I mean you. You owe me one since I’m covering for the two of you.” Jake grimaces but nods.

“I’ll try but I can’t promise anything. Believe me, I want Javy to grow up as much as you do but he’s set in his ways. Not to mention he’s still pissed at me for not saying anything about my knee… or Bugs.” He runs his finger down your arm. Zam gives him a sad smile.

“He’ll forgive you soon enough, just give him time.” She glances at her phone and sighs. “Okay lovebirds, I’m gonna head out. I’ll see you both on Monday, yeah?” She carefully moves Roxie out of her lap before standing and stretching. Jake gets up to walk her out while you’re trapped under Pudding. Roxie climbs over Pudding to lie on top of the pile and when Jake comes back he chuckles at the sight of you buried under the two dogs. He pulls his phone out and snaps a picture as you smile up at him.

“Look at my girls.” He coos and you blush, still getting used to his blatant sweetness. You stretch a hand out to him.

“Come join the cuddle puddle,” he takes it and you pull him back to his spot on the couch and he lifts Pudding’s back legs to slide underneath. You lean your head on his shoulder and he presses a kiss to your head gently before the four of you drift off into an afternoon nap.

***

The next morning you lean over Jake’s sleeping face watching his eyelashes flutter against his cheeks. “Happy D-Day, Jake.” You whisper softly, leaning in to press a featherlight kiss against his cheek and it shifts under your lips as Jake smiles.

“Mornin’, sweet girl.” He opens one green eye and gazes at you with a look full of pure adoration. “How’re you feeling?” You giggle, leaning our cheek on his shoulder so you’re face to face.

“Absolutely perfect.” You lean forward to press a kiss to his lips and he returns it enthusiastically, groaning softly against your mouth as he pushes up, rolling you underneath him as you squeal in delight. “Jake!”

“Mhm?” He hums, making no move to deepen the kisses, content to place pecks of varying length against your lips between your giggles. You reach up to cup his cheeks, his beard scratching against your palms, holding him to you as you pull away just far enough to lean your forehead against his. “Hi,” his voice is still gravelly with sleep as his emerald eyes keep yours locked with his, a magnetic attraction that you can’t look away from.

“Hi,” the smile you’re trying to hide bursts forth and spreads across your face, and Jake returns it with one of his own. Your thumbs stroke into the divots formed by his dimples deepening into his cheeks as yours heat under his gaze. He leans in to kiss the tip of your nose, grin widening in delight as you scrunch it up in response, another giggle escaping your lips.

“As much as I’d love to celebrate by keeping you in my bed all day,” you whimper in response and he brushes his nose against yours. “I have other plans for today.” You pout up at him playfully and he nips at your lips, causing you to giggle again. “Take your time getting ready, I’m gonna get started in breakfast.” You groan as he rolls off of you, climbing out of bed and you bite your lip at the sight of him, framed in the stray sunbeams that creep in through the gap in the curtains. The muscles of his bare back roll as he stretches and his sleep pants are slung low on his hips.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to take a rain check on those plans?” He turns to glance at you over his shoulder, smirking at where you’re propped up on one elbow, worrying your bottom lip, and smiling up at him. He chuckles, turning fully and placing his hands on his hips, giving you a look of mock exasperation.

“C’mon pretty girl, it’s our last day of vacation, let me treat you like the queen you are.” Your cheeks heat as you let your head fall back slightly as you look at him dreamily.

“You always treat me like a queen.” He walks back over and leans over the bed to kiss you slowly.

“Then let me treat you like a goddess.” He whispers against your mouth as he pulls away. You reach for him but he escapes your grasp, stopping at the doorway to blow you a kiss as he disappears to the kitchen. You groan, flopping back into bed. A part of you wants to savor every second of your last day of privacy before the two of you have to go back to work tomorrow and pretend that you haven’t spent every second of the last two weeks wrapped around each other. The other part of you wants to coax Jake back to bed and spend the rest of the day forgetting that time exists outside your little bubble while the two of you get drunk off the desperacy you’ve been holding back for the last two weeks. But if Jake has plans, you don’t want to get in the way of them.

***

You freshen up but don’t change quite yet, waiting for Jake to clue you in to what the appropriate attire for his plans entails. You pad into the kitchen to see Pudding sitting at Jake’s feet as he slips her a breakfast sausage and you pause for a moment, just soaking in the domesticity. You pull out your phone, snapping a photo for later before sneaking up behind Jake and snaking your arms around his bare waist, leaning your cheek against the muscles of his back. “Hi,” you whisper against his warm skin and you feel the answering chuckle reverberating through his chest.

“Hi,” he whispers back, and you peek around his body just in time to see him scooping bacon and more sausages onto a plate next to a heaping plate of eggs.

“So what are these plans you have for today?” You ask as you detach yourself from Jake and start getting out plates and setting places for the two of you at the counter. Jake brings over the plates piled with breakfast food and you start serving the two of you. It feels comfortable, and routine because it is. Every morning for the last few weeks, it’s been the two of you and Pudding and it’s become your new normal. Since moving to San Diego you’ve spent more time in Jake’s kitchen than your own, and now you’d spent the past two weeks living here full-time and a small part of you wonders what it would be like to stay this way forever. Jake hasn’t asked you to leave but he also hasn’t asked you to stay. What happens after today has been one big question mark. Sure you’re going back to work but now you’re dating your number one patient and directly breaking your oath as a doctor as well as your contract. You and Jake have agreed to make things work but that’s been easy when you’re playing house in your little suburban bubble. Tomorrow will bring new challenges, but as Jake comes around the counter to sit next to you, dropping a kiss on the crown of your head, you know that no matter what changes, Jake won’t leave you. He’s promised as much over and over. If you go, I go. His words replay in your mind every day and while the sensible part of your brain knows he shouldn’t be so willing to throw his career away for you, the fact that he seems so ready to brings you peace when you feel like spiraling. You’ll figure things out together.

“So I was thinking,” Jake says as he starts loading up his plate. “We could pack food and have a beach day, and watch the sunset.”

“That sounds perfect.” You lean your head against his shoulder as you start eating. Jake slides your matcha latte across the counter to you. Ever since you told him you don’t drink coffee, he’s been making one for you every morning.

***

After breakfast, the two of you put together sandwiches and pack up lunch for the day. It’s a beautiful day for a picnic and you’re thankful for the relative privacy of the beach behind Jake’s house. The waves lap along the shore as you dig your toes into the damp sand, letting it cool you while the San Diego sun beats down on your face. Jake’s setting up the blanket and Pudding dashes straight for the water. “Pudding wait!” You shout, running after her without a second thought and just as your hand closes around her collar a wave smashes straight into the two of you, soaking you head to toe instantly.

Thankfully, holding onto Pudding keeps you from getting knocked over but you’re spluttering as the water recedes. Pudding is shaking her fur, getting water everywhere as Jake’s hand closes around your arm gently, turning you to him. You’re sure you look like a drowned rat as you rub salt water out of your eyes with your free hand.

“You okay, sweet girl?” His green eyes match the ocean around you and they’re full of concern as he takes in your bedraggled state. You nod, spitting out salt water and taking his hand in yours. Your lips curl into a playful smirk as his eyebrow raises in question just as you yank him in front of you as another wave hits. You watch him gasp in surprise as the wave drenches him and you squeal with laughter. Pudding, never one to be left out, is jumping all over Jake and now the three of you are soaked to the bone.

Jake gives you a look that sends shivers down your spine. You’ve only ever seen it when he’s on the ice. You’ve picked a fight you can’t win. You help, running backward through the surf, doing your best to kick up enough water to slow him down. Unfortunately, even with his bad knee, Jake has the athleticism of a hockey player and he’s catching up to you, quickly. Finally, you decide to stand your ground and as Jake approaches you start kicking up a frenzy of water in an attempt to defend from Jake’s advances but he pushes right through towards you. Just as he’s about to reach where you’re grinning at him, another wave hits and this time you don’t have anything to hang onto. You go tumbling at the force of the water hitting you, gasping in shock. Water fills your mouth and nose and you’re spluttering as you struggle to regain your footing until a pair of strong arms wrap around your middle and you’re clambering up Jake’s torso as he pulls you close. He’s walking out of the surf now, the lightheartedness of your chase gone for the moment, overshadowed by his concern for your safety. Once the water is just lapping at his tanned ankles he stops, rubbing your back to coax your head out of where it’s tucked into the salt-kissed skin of his neck. “Bunny, you good?” You nod into him, pressing a soft kiss to the skin there, nosing at it gently. “Need to hear your voice, baby.” He says as he keeps rubbing soothing circles.

“I’m okay, Jake.” Your voice sounds raw from the salt water you swallowed and you cough up some. Jake pats your back as he gently puts you down. His eyes search your face, worriedly, and you’re sure you look a mess, the salt water making your eyes red and irritated. You reach a hand up to cup his cheek and he turns to press a kiss against the skin of your palm. “I’m always safe with you, Jake.” You whisper and you see emotions swimming in his eyes that you’re sure are mirrored in your own. And when he kisses you, you don’t mind the taste of salt in your mouth so much.

Jake leads you back to the blanket and you shiver, sitting down on the corner, trying not to soak the fabric beneath you. He unbuttons his soaked white button-down immediately, shrugging it off and stripping off his black undershirt, handing it to you and you take it. “Jake, you really don’t have to.” You say, examining the soaked black fabric that’s already heavy in your hands. He gives you a curious look.

“As much as I’m enjoying the view, Bunny, I don’t really feel like sharing.” You’re confused until he nods at your soaked sundress and you glance down, realizing that the thin white material has soaked through, revealing the black cotton set you’re wearing underneath. Gasping, you pull Jake’s undershirt over your head to cover yourself to the best of your ability, shivering as the damp fabric sticks to your bare skin. Jake sits down next to you, pulling you against the warm skin of his chest that’s exposed by his open shirt. You snuggle into his embrace as he digs into the bag you lugged down from the house.

There’s a strawberry placed against your lips and you take a bite appreciatively, humming with pleasure at the sweet taste before Jake polishes it off. Pudding is still racing around in the water, chasing something the two of you can’t see. This right here is your special piece of paradise and for the first time in weeks, you’re not worried about how long it’ll be before it slips through your fingers.

[underground-stars]

🏴‍☠️ to celebrate the 15th anniversary of Plastic Beach, here is a visualiser / menu intro concept I edit a time ago for a possible Gorillaz game inspired by the franchise Five Nights at Freddy's by Scott Cawthon, starring one of the iconic characters beside the main four: Cyborg Noodle 🏝️⚡️🎸 I'm not a game dev, only a enjoyer from FNAF & others indie productions. but you can feel free to try something abt this! hope you all like! please, consider subcribe on my channel🪼

[darkmagyk]

Neighbor au and birthday, pretty please?

It was 12:27 on August 18th, and Percy had been asleep for 2 hours. He was dreaming of the beach, and of pretty blonde curls blowing in the sea breeze.

tap tap tap

A sound interrupted his peaceful sleep. And he groaned, feeling the beach, and the girl, slipped away.

“Wha..,” Opening his eyes slightly and looking towards his window.

Maybe the girl didn’t slip away. Because standing on his fire escape, tapping on his window, is his three floors upstairs neighbor, Annabeth Chase.

He wondered if his mom or Frederick had figured out, they’d been sneaking up and down the fire escape since they were 12. They must have, right? They had never called them on it.

And at this point, it was a little bit beyond their power to complain.

“Hi,” He said, opening the window. She offered him a kiss before climbing in. And then he presented him with a little cardboard box with the name of the bakery around the corner on it.

“Happy 18th Birthday.” She said, he opened the box, and handed her one of the two plastic forks inside.

“Thanks, Wise Girl.” He said. And then kissed a bit of blue frosting off of her lips.

“So, finally, you’re an adult.” She said, “What do you want to do as a grown up.”

“Spend my time with my beautiful girlfriend.” He said.

“That’s your only adulthood goal?”

“Eventually, I’d like to be my beautiful girlfriend’s trophy husband.” He said, “But you know I’m not the one with a life plan I’ve had since I was 5, not like you.”

She kissed him again, and then took another bite of cake.

“Want to know the first step in my life plan?” She asked.

He frowned, he thought he did know it, “Go to Harvard this fall?”

“That’s step 2,” She said, “Step 1 is, as an anniversary present, my boyfriend should become trophy husband.”

“Do you mean…”

“We’ve got an appointment at 8 am in Niagara.” She said. “Get dressed, we have a wedding to get to.”

[archived-junkissed]

sunkissed

member — husband!jun x reader genre — fluff word count — 2.8k synopsis — this year for your anniversary, jun takes you on a trip down memory lane through the flowers of your past. warnings — the time skips between past & present, reader wears a dress at the end, some kissing, very brief cheol & seokmin cameos. nothing too extreme but they're a gross adorable happy married couple notes — this is for @svthub's secret garden collab! this fic is very special to me for many reasons but mostly because it's based on a little beach town where we used to go when i was growing up and i have so many fond memories of that experience (and also because i love jun hehe). i hope you enjoy :)

one reblog = one bouquet of flowers from jun 💐

“jun, can you at least tell me where we’re going?”

he shakes his head, a grin across his face. “nope! it’s a surprise.”

you frown and cross your arms, sitting down on the bed. “well, how am i supposed to know what to pack, then, if i don’t know where we’re going?”

jun pauses, his brow furrowed. “oh. yeah.” suddenly he pulls out his phone, studying the screen carefully, and you can’t help but laugh at him. 

“what are you doing now?” you ask.

he looks up at you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “checking the weather,” he says. “it’s supposed to be nice and warm but the weather app says it’ll be windy, so pack a jacket.” he pauses, thinking. “maybe more than one jacket.”

you stand and walk over to your closet, pulling out two hangers: a long brown coat, and a thin cardigan. “which one?”

his face lights up and he laughs, pointing to the coat. “that one, for sure.”

“excuse me, do you need some help?”

ice cold drops of rain pour down around you as you stand underneath the overhang in front of the grocery store, cursing yourself for not checking the weather more thoroughly before you went out today. it had been a deceptively sunny day earlier, but during the rainy spring season you never know when the weather will flip on a dime and the skies open up like they have today. your outfit had been perfect for the sunshine, but now it’s nowhere near enough to protect you from the rain.

at the sound of a voice you turn and see a tall man coming out of the store behind you, a plastic thank-you bag sticking out from under his arm. “do you live far?” he asks. “you can borrow my umbrella, if you want.”

you start to tell him no, you’re fine thanks, but you pause when you study his face a little closer, realizing you recognize him. “you look familiar… do i know you?”

he nods his head a little in response. “aren’t you seungcheol’s friend? i’ve seen you at his parties sometimes— you were at new year’s, right?”

you give him a nod, relaxing a little now that you know he’s friendly, but you’re still surprised when he says your name. “yep, that’s me,” you say with a polite laugh. “but i’m sorry, i don’t remember your name.”

“don’t worry about it,” he grins. “i’m junhui, by the way, but my friends call me jun. you can call me jun.” 

you stick out your hand, and he shakes it enthusiastically. “well, it’s very nice to officially meet you, jun,” you smile. 

“so, about that umbrella,” he says.

“oh, no, i’m alright,” you say, waving him off. “i’m not far away. just working up the courage to sprint back home,” you say with a laugh.

“let me give you a ride,” he says. “a little bit shorter of a sprint for you, at least? i live at the apartments a couple blocks down, it’s not out of my way.”

“i’ll be fine,” you say, shaking your head as a gust of wind nearly knocks you over. “but it’s very kind of you to offer.”

he frowns a little. “well, i can’t in good conscience let you go running around in the rain without an umbrella or anything,” he says, thinking. he shifts his bag of groceries to his other arm and starts shrugging off his coat. “here, take my jacket. your outfit would get all ruined in the rain.”

you want to tell him no again, but the rain continues to pour around you, and your shoes are already soaked in water. and his coat does look pretty warm… 

“okay, fine,” you say finally, accepting the clothing from him and slipping your arms into the sleeves as he tosses it around your shoulders. “but how do i get it back to you?”

“are you going to cheol’s housewarming party next weekend?” he asks, and you nod. “you can give it to me then.”

“alright. i’ll take good care of it for you,” you say with a smile, and he grins in response.

“i’m really sorry, i’ve gotta rush off to a meeting,” he says, checking his watch. “but it was nice meeting you, and i hope we see each other again soon!”

he gives you a little wave, then dashes off into the rain, holding his plastic bag over his head to protect himself. you pull the hood of his coat up over your head, feeling a little guilty for leaving him without a jacket; but he had offered, and you would see him again anyway. you’d have to figure out a way to repay him next time you saw him.

“now will you tell me where we’re going?”

the warm morning breeze brushes against your cheeks as you roll the windows down, resting your elbow out of the car. you lean your head back against the headrest and sigh, glancing over at jun in the driver’s seat. the wind blows his hair around in his face, a tousled flurry of brown against his tan skin.

you still have no idea where you’re headed for your anniversary trip, and it looks like jun has no intention of letting you know anytime soon. but that thought couldn’t be farther from your mind as you watch jun drive, buzzing in his seat with how excited he is to reveal his plans.

“nope,” he says, and you whine in response. “but you’ll see soon enough.” he grins at you and reaches across the seat to rest his hand on your leg, and you rest your hand on top of his, tilting your head against the seat to look out the window.

as he drives along the road, the city gets less and less dense until you’re out on a long back road, nothing but green fields and tall grass as far as the eye can see. eventually jun pulls off onto a dirt path and stops the car in a tiny parking lot. a small wooden sign announces the name of the park, along with a note that reminds visitors to pick up their trash. 

he pulls the keys out of the ignition and turns to you, grinning. you smile back at him, waiting for him to say something. “is this your big surprise… ?”

he laughs, leaning over the center console to kiss your cheek before opening his door. “no. this is just lunch.”

he gets out of the car and pops open the trunk, pulling out a small cooler and a blanket before shutting it again. he holds out his hand to you, motioning for you to follow him, and when you take his hand he squeezes a little, turning back to smile at you before leading you over to a shady spot in the grass.

he spreads the picnic blanket out and you start to open the cooler to help him set up, but he swats your hand away playfully. “let me do it,” he pouts, and you can’t ever say no to him, especially when he’s gone through such lengths to plan all this, so you let him continue on with what he’s doing.

he pulls out a bottle of sparkling apple juice and two plastic champagne flutes, handing one to you so he can pour yours out first, before pouring his own and setting the bottle down.

“we’ll have the real stuff once we get to the hotel,” he says with a grin, holding up his glass to clink with yours.

“oh, so we’re staying at a hotel?” you say, raising your eyebrows at him as you take a sip.

he scowls. “you’re not getting any info out of me until we get there, so don’t even try!”

you laugh, laying down on your side on the blanket, and he pulls out paper-wrapped sandwiches from the cooler. he looks at them both and then hands you yours, with your name printed in careful but messy lettering and little hearts drawn around it in sharpie.

it’s so cute you almost don’t want to ruin it by opening it, and you look at it fondly for such a long time that by the time you finally start to unwrap it, jun is already halfway done with his. you call his name, holding back a laugh when he looks up from his sandwich with mustard smeared on one corner of his mouth and up his cheek. “what?” he asks, mouth full.

“nothing,” you giggle, reaching over to wipe the mustard off his face with your thumb before wiping your hand with a napkin. “i just love you.”

“number 36, two ham and swiss for jun?”

the barista calls out the order, and jun jumps out of his seat to go grab the food. despite being the middle of the day, there isn’t much of a lunch crowd in the cafe this afternoon. 

after seeing jun again at your friend seungcheol’s get-together, you’d really hit it off, and you’d casually offered to get lunch with him sometime. and as luck would have it, your schedules lined up so that you both had a free afternoon the very next day. jun had recommended the cafe down the street owned by his friend seokmin, raving on and on about his chocolate chip muffins, and you’d been convinced. 

he comes back to the table a second later holding a little wood tray with two sandwiches, carefully handing you yours before sitting down again. 

not only does the sandwich end up being great, but the company you’re with ends up being the best part of the lunch. getting to know jun is more fun than you’ve ever had, and when you look down to check your watch and realize that you’ll be late to work if you stay any longer, you’re honestly disappointed it has to end here.

“do you wanna go out again sometime?” jun asks nervously as you both stand up. “maybe… dinner or something, next time?”

“yeah.” pushing your chair in, you give him a bright smile. “i would really like that. dinner sounds great.”

he grins, and you can almost see his cheeks flush a little as he follows you out of the cafe. walking back to your car parked next to his on the sidewalk, he tells you all about the new recipes he’s been wanting to try and how he can’t wait to show you his favorites, already eager to cook you dinner.

being around him feels like you’ve known each other for years, and in that moment you realize this lunch is only a first date with jun. he’s already making plans for a second, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world. 

he helps you into your car and gives you a wave before walking away to get into his own. and long after his car has pulled away and you’re still sitting in the parking lot, you can’t help but smile, thinking about how wonderful today has been and how much you’re looking forward to seeing him again.

“we’re here, baby, are you awake?”

jun’s soft voice pulls you out of your nap and you blink slowly, sitting up and massaging the kink in your neck from sleeping against the window. you had wanted to stay awake to see where jun was taking you, but with the excitement from packing you hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, and the feeling of warm sunshine on your face and the rolling of the car had put you right to sleep.

rubbing your eyes, you stare out the window to see what he’s talking about, but it only takes you a few seconds to immediately recognize where you are. “jun!” you gasp, looking over at him, and he beams back at you with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen.

“surprise,” he giggles, watching your giddy reaction as he drives along the familiar coastal highway. it’s the same little town you spent your honeymoon with him years ago, that you’ve always said you’d wanted to visit again but between both of your busy lives you haven’t had the chance to.

you roll down the window, sticking your head out of the car and inhaling the fresh, salty sea air.

jun pulls into the hotel parking lot: a little inn that, by the looks of it, hasn’t changed much since the last time you were here. you hop out and come around to meet jun at the other side of the car and he gives you a kiss on the cheek as he stands up, shutting the car door and taking your hand to lead you to the front office to check in.

when you pull open the door, the front desk is decorated just like how you remember it. paintings of ocean scenes hang on the walls, and driftwood and seashells sit atop every antique wooden table. you walk across the room to pick up a magazine off one of the tables, flipping through it to see advertisements for local restaurants, wine tastings, and local art shows.

you’re so invested reading an article about the owner of the inn, that you don’t notice how jun lowers his voice talking to the man at the front desk, whispering and nodding quickly before he hands the room keys to your husband. he grins and shakes the man’s hand before calling your name, and you turn around and grab his hand again, ready to go see your room.

jun hands you the keys and lets you lead the way, tugging him after you. muscle memory comes back to you as your feet carry you up the stairs to the same room you’d stayed in so long ago. he follows after you, unable to hide the smile on his face as he sees your excitement. it’s not often you get to go on vacation together, and he’s determined to make sure this anniversary is one you won’t forget.

outside the room you unlock the door, but when you see what’s inside you nearly drop everything you’re holding. the entire room is covered in flowers, with pink rhododendrons and pretty white blooms in vases on every table and rose petals scattered across the bed. by the mini refrigerator there’s a bottle of champagne resting in a bucket of ice, a little note attached with a bow around the neck of the bottle.

you turn around and jun is right behind you, beaming like a little kid that’s just been told they can have dessert before dinner as he watches your reaction. it had cost him a lot to get the owner to do all this extra stuff, but when jun had talked to him on the phone he was more than happy to help him plan it all out for such a special occasion.

you throw your arms around him and he giggles, walking you backwards into the room. the luggage in the open car trunk is long forgotten as his lips press against yours, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

“are you ready?”

jun asks from the driver’s seat as you sit beside him in the car. your dress bunches up around you as you turn to look at him, pushing the fabric out of the way so you can lean across the cupholders to kiss him, the first of many kisses today and over the years that will come.

he smiles against your lips before pulling away to start the car, and you look out your passenger side window one more time. all of your friends and family stand outside the car, waving and cheering and holding bouquets of bright pink rhododendrons.

jun twists around to look behind him at the rear window, where the words “just married” are written in chalk marker, as he reverses out of the parking lot.

once everyone is out of sight, you begin to relax into your seat, kicking off the shoes that have been hurting your feet all night. you’re leaving before any of your guests are, having stayed at the reception just long enough to cut the cake and have your first dance, so it’s still early enough in the evening to have some time to yourselves

“where are we going?” you ask, reclining the seat a little with a sigh as you gaze out the window. the stars are beginning to come out, little twinkling lights in the sky, and you smile as you think about today, finally a moment to relax and reflect on everything.

your new husband grins and shakes his head, sliding one hand across the seat to intertwine his fingers with yours. “nope. it’s a surprise.”

> taglist | @foxdaisy @tinkerbell460 @seokmins @just-here-to-read-01 @blizzardfluffykpop @ny0sang @matilde111 @noniestars @noraehey @squiishymeow @pearlygraysky @baekhyunstruly @tenn87 @blowfishish @raevyng @aceofvernons @odetoyeonjun @dkakapizzaboy @enhacolor @highkey-fangirling @baldi-2 @onlymingyus @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @potatofrieswithketchup @wonuziex @stariightjoyy @strawberri-uyu @tigermoonbiss @diving1ntoyou @emmmm127 @hybe02z @sstarrysshit @g00dtimenotlongtim3 @yourfavoritefreakyhan @fr0g-filez @chocolatekdramakpopfreak @synthetickitsune @jvkeslvr @fairybinie @aestheticallea

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[kitteyduck]

My very late drawing for plastic beach’s 15th anniversary lelel

[theabsolutegorillaznerd]

Happy 15th anniversary to Plastic Beach! Wanted to practice a fully painted piece for the occasion

[werewolfnightwalker]

Mermay

A cute, fluffy drabble of Merman!Keigo and Touya.

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Touya's flipflops slapped wetly on the rocks as he hopped across them, keeping his balance despite the slick, algae-coated surfaces. His siblings were back on the shore with their mom, building sandcastles, but he had something more important to do.

Adjusting the bucket hat on his head as it nearly fell off, he made it to the last rock and knelt down, peering into the water. "Keigo? Are you here?" He called hopefully.

There was a pause, before a glittering, ruby tail emerged and 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 the surface, spraying water at him. Touya laughed, throwing an arm up to shield himself. Bubbly laughter echoed him from below, before Keigo's head breached the surface of the water. He grinned up at Touya, his vicious fangs gleaming like pearls. "Hi, Touya!"

"Hey." Touya giggled, bracing his hands on the rock as he leaned out, over the water. Keigo rose to meet him, and Touya tasted salt water when their lips met.

He pulled back after a few seconds, to see Keigo's earfins fluttering happily. He reached out, running his finger over the edge of one, and Keigo tipped his head into his hand with a low croon. His own webbed hand came up to hold Touya's against his cheek, the crimson scales that dusted his cheeks like freckles scraping against his palm.

Touya's heart made a funny leap at the motion, heat rising in his cheeks that had nothing to do with the summer sun. Ever sine he met Keigo- after the merman had rescued Shoto from nearly drowning the year before- he'd been helplessly in love with the beautiful creature.

He'd come back at 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 once a week since then to see him, even braving the waters in winter. It had taken months to get Keigo to trust that he meant no harm, that he didn't want to catch him or steal his scales or anything of the sort. Longer still for him to work up the courage to confess, but now he was glad he did.

You know what today is?" He asked, stroking his thumb across Keigo's cheek.

"The twentieth day of summer?" Keigo murmured.

"Yeah, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 the anniversary of the day we met." Touya told him proudly.

"Is it?" Keigo opened his eyes and blinked at him, his irises like a pair of golden suns.

"Yes! Like I could forget the day I met you." Touya smiled. Keigo huffed, looking away; he couldn't blush, being coldblooded, but Touya knew when he was being shy. He sat back, digging in the satchel at his side, and pulled out a sandwich bag, in which were a pair of taiyaki- handmade by Touya himself.

"I brought these to celebrate." He held the bag out to show him.

Keigo cocked his head at the treats, eyeing them critically. "Those are some odd looking fish."

"They're pastries." Touya corrected, "They just look like fish." He pulled the bag open and retrieved one, holding out. "Try it, I filled them with chocolate."

"Chocolate." Keigo echoed as he took the treat, eternally amused by human words. Touya sat back and watched him sniff the taiyaki, before delivering a swift bite to the back of the head, as he did when he ate actual fish. He tore a large bite off, the chocolate filling smearing on his lip as he chewed. Touya saw the way his eyes lit up from the flavor, before he was devouring the cakey treat. "Delicious!" He declared, licking the crumbs and chocolate smears off his claws.

He looked up at Touya, before his eyes zeroed in on the other snack. Touya had meant for that one to be for himself, but he pulled it out of the bag and gave that one to Keigo, too.

He made sure to tuck the plastic bag back into his satchel; the last time he'd let an arrant piece of plastic fall in the water, Keigo had gotten so mad at him he'd threatened to never speak to him again. Touya had spent the rest of the day picking up trash along the beach to earn his forgiveness.

Now, as Keigo gobbled up the second snack, Touya sat down properly on the stone and let his feet dangle in the water. As soon as he was done with the snack, Keigo swam up to him, rubbing his cheek affectionately against Touya's shin.

"Happy anniversary, Keigo." Touya chuckled, reaching down and running a hand through Keigo's hair.

"Anni-ver-sary." Keigo echoed the word slowly, like he was testing how it felt in his mouth. He pulled away, peering up at Touya. His secondary eyelids blinked, even as his eyes stayed open, before he grinned. "If today is such a special day, then I will get something for you, too!" He declared.

Before Touya could speak, he turned and dove back into the water, vanishing under the waves with a flick of his tail. The young boy blinked, bewildered, but patiently waited for him to come back, curious to see what Keigo would bring him.

After a few minutes, Keigo reemerged, swimming up to the rock and thrusting his hand at Touya proudly.

"Here. You shared your delicacy fish with me, it's only fair that I return the favor. This is a special treat for mermaids- we only eat them during courting rituals or hatching ceremonies."

Touya looked down at his hand, and his stomach dropped; clutched in Keigo's claws was a sea slug, one with vibrant, pink and red colors.

Touya… did not like fish. It was a texture thing, more than anything, but the mere thought of even 𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪 made him gag.

"I eat it?" He echoed, dismayed.

"Yes! Traditionally, you swallow it whole." Keigo beamed. Touya's heart flipped over in his chest; his merman looked so enthusiastic about sharing this part of his culture, he didn't have the courage to let him down.

Swallowing his pride and no small amount of bile, he took the slug from Keigo's hand. At least it was dead; he thought he might puke if he had to eat a live one.

It was cold and slimy in his palm, and he hoped his reluctance came across as hesitation rather than disgust. Keigo gazed up at him with anticipation shining in his beautiful eyes, his hand coming to rest on Touya's foot.

Touya took a breath, counted to three in his head, and threw the slug back in into his mouth. Immediately, he gagged on the texture, the flavor, the smell- he felt vomit creep up his throat, but he swallowed both it and the slug before it could leave him. He nearly puked, anyways, as he 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 the slug hit his stomach, and only just managed to keep it down. He took several slow breaths, blinking tears out of his eyes.

"Well?" Keigo asked after a pause, his tail swishing through the water. Touya looked down at him, at the excited look on his face, and forced a smile.

"Delicious." He promised him, smacking his lips before he added, "Kind of salty, though."

That made Keigo laugh. "Of course it was! It's a sea slug, silly!"

Touya laughed weakly, and after a moment, Keigo pulled himself up onto the stone to sit beside him, and leaned over to kiss his cheek. "Thank you, my sea star." He crooned.

"You're welcome, Kei. I love you." He nuzzled his nose against Keigo's, causing the merman to flap all of his fins happily.

"I love you, too. Happy anni-ver-sary."

//End.

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