#tying cherry stems

[strnilolover]

.✦ ── He Can Do It With His Mouth ── ✦.

little blurb of matt tying a cherry stem with his mouth. it’s a little suggestive but nothing serious

there were all these little things matt would do with his mouth that you somehow always found hot. no matter what he did — opening bottles, bitting his lip. hell even the way his mouth moved when he spoke did numbers to you. then again, most of the things matt did somehow always turned you on — innocent actions or not.

currently you were sat on the counter, legs dangling off the edge. A bowl of fresh cherries rested beside you, and you absentmindedly plucked one after another, popping them into your mouth with a soft smile. You were lost in thought, savoring the burst of sweet-tart juice, occasionally dropping the empty stems into a small pile beside you.

Matt leaned against the counter opposite, scrolling through his phone, a relaxed air about him as the two of you enjoyed the quiet company. He looked up now and then, catching glimpses of your concentrated expression and the way your lips wrapped around each cherry. You didn’t notice the way his gaze lingered or the sly smile that slowly tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Y’know,” he suddenly spoke, breaking the silence, “there’s a little trick with those.” His voice held a teasing lilt that instantly pulled you out of your thoughts.

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “What do you mean?” you asked, glancing down at the stems and back at him, completely unaware of what he was hinting at.

Without saying another word, Matt straightened up and walked over, closing the distance between you in a few easy strides. He didn’t ask permission as he reached out and gently took a fresh stem from your fingers, his fingertips brushing lightly against your skin. You swallowed, your breath catching in your throat as he held your gaze, that playful glint never leaving his eyes.

He raised the stem to his lips, and you watched in complete fascination as he slipped it into his mouth. His eyes never left yours, and you felt your face heat up as he closed his lips around the stem, his jaw moving in subtle motions. There was something almost hypnotic about it, your pulse quickening.

Within seconds, Matt opened his mouth and revealed the cherry stem tied neatly into a knot, a small smirk spreading across his lips. Your mouth fell open in disbelief, the action making heat pool in your lower stomach.

“Easy,” he chuckled, dropping the knotted stem into your hand. “Just a little trick.”

You blinked, trying to find words, but all that came out was a soft breathy laugh. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

Matt leaned in a fraction closer, his smirk growing as he reached out to gently close your fingers around the tied stem. His voice dropped slightly, turning smooth and almost challenging. “There’s a lot I can do with my mouth.”

Your cheeks burned, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his, that familiar blue now holding a teasing spark that made your stomach flip. The moment was charged, his proximity overwhelming, and you knew he was waiting for a reaction.

You shook your head, smiling despite yourself, muttering, “Show off.” But the heat between you was undeniable, and the playful smirk on his face told you he knew exactly the effect he had on you.

Matt just laughed, stepping back casually, but you couldn’t stop thinking about that cherry stem and the way his lips had moved around it, effortlessly tying it into a knot. It was a small thing—silly, even—but somehow, in that simple moment, he’d managed to leave you completely flustered.

And he knew it.

© strnilolover

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

If you are going to resurrect your ancient son

You have to make the sex top notch

That is the only acceptable mayo to me

[lelianaslefthand]

when your troublemaking protege is back after being put in timeout for fucking up big but you're not allowed to show genuine emotion or blatant favoritism as if you havent been noticeably crashing out over them not being there for the past year

[thesixtyin69]

Well then gorgeous, we’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for. I aim to please and I do know where to aim. 👅

@thesixtyin69 , @313-248-317-87 , @android-detective-51

Guys, idk know who you are, but today you took over my dash, and I fucking love it.

[pipers-art]

i did this with my mouth alone

[jackals-ships]

okay prelim attempts @ arcane jackal in a vaguely arcane Style,,,it's like 9am and now Sleepy Time so ill finish and fiddle l8r

[danwithouttheplan]

I put a stapled packet of documents in my mouth and after a big swallow and a few seconds of movement I stick out my tongue with the staple bent perfectly into a paperclip.

[flowers-that-sing]

*accidentally joins a polycule*

[hongcherry]

pretty please (just this once) || c.sc

Seungcheol comes to visit you while you're working on a photo shoot; however, he ends up staying after you ask him for a favor.

🍒 Pairing: businessWorker!Seungcheol x fashionDesigner!Reader (f) 🍒 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Fluff, slice of life; Non-idol au, Pretty Please couple 🍒 Warnings: Suggestive content and allusions to sexual activities 🍒 Word Count: 4.1k 🍒 Timeline: This takes place before "love me," but you don't need to read that prior to this. 🍒 Author’s Note: Happy (almost) weekend! As planned, here's another installment of the Pretty Please universe ♥️ I'm excited to publish the next one! Spoiler: It's a two-parter 😉

pretty please masterpost | seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

this blog is 18+. minors do not interact. plz & ty! (ageless/minors/blanks blogs will be blocked)

“He did what?”

Your hands still and eyes narrow at Yumi, irritation quickly growing upon hearing the bad news.

“Apparently, he accidentally double-booked himself,” Yumi explains as calmly as she can.

Your eyes roll before you can stop them, hands dropping from the garnet you were working on.

Prior to booking your model, you had triple-checked both your schedules to ensure they aligned. Now, hearing that he canceled an hour before the shoot, has steam shooting out your ears.

Sure, you can reschedule, but you have already rented the space and have a deadline to meet for the photos. Additionally, you can no longer trust your old model to show up anymore.

“Of course he did,” you scoff and grab your phone. You’re not sure what you are going to do with it, but you grab it on instinct. Maybe subconsciously you think you can call in another model, but you doubt it due to the short time frame.

Sensing your thoughts, Yumi says, “Maybe there’s still someone available.”

Huffing, you throw your hands in the air in exasperation.

“Fine. Let’s try,” you say and unlock your phone to begin trying to get another model.

Not a second later, the door to the dressing room opens.

“Hey, ba—What’s wrong?”

Seungcheol slows his steps when he sees the tell-tale sign of distress on your face.

“What are you doing here?” you wonder, voice gentler but still on edge.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he replies, lifting up a bag of what you suspect are yummy goodies.

Your heart does a little flip despite you wanting it to. You had never considered yourself a hopeless romantic, but the small gesture tugs on your emotions.

“Thanks, it’s just—” You begin to say but a poke on your arm stops you. You glance at Yumi, whose eyes are flicking between you and Seungcheol. You can tell there’s an idea brewing in her head.

“What about him?” she whispers, but there’s no other sound in the room to cover her voice.

“What about him?” you repeat.

“He can be our solution!”

Your eyes widen slightly in realization, then you’re shaking your head.

“He doesn’t have experience,” you explain.

Yumi frowns. “At this point, we just need a good face. And look at him,” she pauses to gesture to Seungcheol. He stands with his head slightly cocked in confusion.

“He’s perfect.”

Your lips purse as you take in your boyfriend. There’s no doubt that he’s handsome, and his build is impressive… But what would your boss say if she sees someone unknown in the fashion world in the photos? She has a policy about not using rookies in her shoots. Though at the same time, what would she say if you didn’t get anyone at all?

You’re at an odds.

“What’s going on, Cherry?” Seungcheol questions.

You sigh for what seems like the tenth time.

“Our model quit on us last minute,” you disclose.

“You don’t have a backup?”

His question brings forth more irritation; however, that stems from self-anger than anger directed at him. You should’ve known better.

“Unfortunately, not, but,” Yumi trails off and she glances at you for approval.

It’s not like Seungcheol doesn’t have the looks, but he’s never done this before and what if he feels uncomfortable? Though, your hands are tied and you’ve already lost time.

You rub your lips together before finishing Yumi’s sentence.

“Since you’re here, would you mind stepping in?”

Seungcheol cocks an eyebrow up.

“You want me to be your model?” he asks in disbelief.

“You have the looks,” you shrug, trying to hide the smile that wants to form when he averts his gaze shyly.

“I’m not sure,” he fades off.

“Please? Just this once? We’ll guide you,” you offer some reassurance.

Seungcheol glances at the door as if imagining himself at the setup out there. 

PDA isn’t something you favor, but since it’s only you three in the room, you decide to test your luck. You step forward and guide his face back to yours. Your thumb brushes over his cheek gently.

“You’d really be helping me out, babe,” you plead.

He still looks unsure. 

You give him a peck on the lips. “Please?”

Seungcheol’s free hand squeezes your waist.

“Fine. What do I need to do?” He sighs.

You grin and give him another kiss. His hand moves to your lower back to pull you closer. Not wanting the kiss to last too long, you pull away after three seconds.

You straighten your clothes as if wiping away your embarrassment.

Yumi watches with a mix of surprise and delight. You’re unsure of their origins, but you get the hint it’s from seeing this new side of you.

You met Yumi on your first day of work a few months ago. She’s interning at the company, learning from fellow fashion designers and event coordinators. You don’t always work with her on projects, but she was assigned to this one with you as the lead.

You weren’t sure what to think of Yumi in the beginning; however, you’ve learned to like her. She is hard-working and passionate—two things you can relate to.

After clearing your throat, you instruct, “Tell the photographer to be ready in thirty.”

Yumi lingers in the room, eyes moving between you and Seungcheol, then she leaves.

You let out a breath when the door closes.

Yumi was aware you had a partner, but she’s never seen or met Seungcheol. You guess she doesn’t need an introduction now.

“I’ll take that,” you say and grab the bag from Seungcheol’s hands. You take a peek inside and see a bowl of noodles and veggies. Your tummy growls.

“When was the last time you ate?” Seungcheol wonders.

You set the bag down and move to the clothes rack.

“It’s been a while,” you answer vaguely. “Take off your clothes.”

“Cherry, you can’t starve yours—”

“I’m not. I’ll eat soon,” you interrupt.

When you see Seungcheol studying you rather than stripping in your peripheral, you turn to him with a frown.

“Seungch—”

“I know, I need to change, but your health is important,” he scolds lightly.

“So is this photoshoot,” you reply. You take off a few pieces from the rack and transfer it to an empty one.

Seungcheol reaches out to grab your arm.

“Baby,” he calls for your attention.

You look at him.

“At least eat a little while I change,” he suggests.

“I need to get hair and makeup—”

Seungcheol leans in and shuts you up with a kiss.

Your body wants to melt into his touch, but you force yourself to stay alert. Now’s not the time.

You gently push his chest to pull away.

“Eat,” he says.

Sighing, you relent with a nod. Just the smell of the dish is making your mouth water. You know he’s right. 

You gesture to the clothes and Seungcheol nods in understanding.

Once he starts changing, you text Yumi to inform her of your outfit choice and for the hair and makeup crew to get ready. Then, you sit on the couch and open the noodle meal Seungcheol brought.

Your boyfriend, now without his shirt, smiles at you—pleased to see you doing as he said.

Your gaze meets his, and your heart skips a beat. He looks too good shirtless. It doesn’t matter that you’ve seen it before; it still has an effect on you.

Seungcheol chuckles at your reaction and removes his pants.

“Lucky you, Cherry. You get lunch and a show,” he teases.

You roll your eyes in lieu of showing you flustered.

“Change faster,” you huff after you swallow a bite.

Seungcheol grins bigger, taking the pants on the rack and stepping into one leg.

“Afraid of what’ll happen if I stay naked for too long?” he taunts.

“You’re not naked,” you mumble, eating again.

“Bet you wish I was though.” He smirks.

You send him a not-so-deadly glare. 

Unaffected by your stare, he chuckles and finishes changing. Luckily, the hair and makeup people come in a minute after he fastens the last button on his shirt.

The outfit is a plain, all-black trousers and suit jacket, but Seungcheol fits the outfit perfectly. He suits formal wear extremely well.

The hair stylist gives him a wet-haired look and the makeup artist keeps it simple.

You hurry and finish half your food so you can check on the crew in the main studio. Thankfully, they’ve finished getting ready without any hiccups.

The door to the dressing room opens and Seungcheol comes to stop beside you. He may feel out of place, but he doesn’t look like it. You stare at him a little too long before adjusting the outfit. Though, there’s not much to adjust. You’re just worrying. 

“You sure about this?” you ask.

“Ah, not really,” he answers hesitantly, “but if it helps you, then I’ll be fine.”

Three words sit on your tongue, but you can’t find the courage to say them. It’s not that you don’t believe them, but there are people in hearing range, and saying it has always felt awkward to you.

Seungcheol gives you a reassuring smile. You know he wants to kiss you by the way he keeps glancing at your lips, but you appreciate that he respects your boundaries. Especially while you’re at work.

The photographer guides him to sit on the leather armchair. Seungcheol does so stiffly.

“Try to relax and look into the lens,” they instruct. “Pretend you’re a wealthy, overly confident CEO.”

Seungcheol nods and leans against the armrest. It looks almost unnatural.

Even though there’s music playing, the sounds of the camera feel extra loud. You peer at the monitor and watch as the pictures begin to appear.

The photographer moves to different angles. Seungcheol shifts a bit as he follows the camera.

After a few more shots, the photographer tilts their head.

“Let’s try resting your chin on your hand,” they say.

Seungcheol follows, but there’s still something off. You can tell the photographer thinks so too from their slightly furrowed brows and downturned lips.

Seungcheol’s not oblivious to everyone’s reaction. He becomes more rigid and mimics everyone’s small frown.

You rub your lips together in thought. Maybe Seungcheol really wasn’t the best choice. He has the looks, but the photos are not coming across well.

“Let’s take five,” you call out, walking toward the setup and stopping at the edge of the backdrop.

“Follow me,” you tell Seungcheol and turn on your heel. You hear Seungcheol excuse himself as he stands from his chair.

You guide him back to the dressing room and find it empty.

“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol says as soon as he shuts the door. “I’m trying, but it’s weird having everyone stare at me.”

You lean against the built-in vanity counter with your hands resting on it. You stare long enough without a word for Seungcheol to apologize again.

You know you can’t blame him. It’s uncomfortable to try something new in front of strangers. However, it’s too late to try to get a model. Either you deal with the unsatisfactory photos or you try to knock some confidence in Seungcheol. You go for the latter.

“Don’t apologize,” you sigh and walk to him. “I’ll ask them to leave.”

“It’s fine,” he mumbles.

You raise your hands to his shoulders and begin massaging the knots out. His shoulders slowly begin to deflate. 

“Try to focus on something besides the camera,” you suggest.

His frown deepens. “That’s hard to do when I’m supposed to look at it.”

You take a step closer, gaze lingering on the deep v the suit jacket makes.

“Then maybe imagine it’s me,” you reply, a hand trailing down. Your fingertips graze his exposed chest.

“You?” he asks with an airy voice.

“Yeah,” you smile and trace shapes on his skin lightly. Seungcheol’s pupils begin to dilate.

“What about you?” he asks.

Your eyes flicker to his. There’s mischief in them before you speak that causes Seungcheol to hold his breath.

“Use your imagination,” you tease.

As you’re about to pull away, Seungcheol grabs your waist and flushes your body against his. His mouth captures yours, fingers slipping under your shirt to touch your bare skin.

The simple touch makes your heart thump faster against your ribcage and your knees feel weak. 

“Cheol,” you mumble against his lips, grabbing his hands. He hums and stays pressed against you.

You try to tear his hands off you, but he persists. Granted, you didn’t try too hard.

“I miss you,” he says in the kiss.

You know you shouldn’t, but you lax in his arms. Despite seeing him nearly every night, you haven’t spent much time with him. It’s a busy season for you both at work and by the time you get home, both of you want to sleep.

You’ve missed his kisses and attention more than you realize.

A knock at the door jerks you away.

“Just wanted to let you know everyone’s back,” Yumi says from the other side of the door.

You clear your throat and step from Seungcheol who’s tempting you by just standing near.

“Thanks,” you reply. “We’ll be out in a moment.”

“Okay,” Yumi says.

You listen to her steps fade before looking at Seungcheol. He’s already straightened out his clothes.

“You good?” you ask.

“No, I could really use more alone time.”

You sigh. “Seungcheol.”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles. “I’m ready.”

You hum, turning to leave but stop with your hand hovering over the handle.

“Something wrong, Cherry?” Seungcheol asks behind you.

You bite your lip and spin around. You quickly lean in and give him another kiss.

“For luck,” you explain, then exit the room before he can do anything and before you cave into his touches. 

Seungcheol follows shortly after, standing a little taller and looking less awkward.

You watch as the photographer guides Seungcheol back into the chair.

“Okay, just think about the CEO thing,” they remind.

Seungcheol nods and rolls his shoulders. He’s a little stiff again at first, but after a few pictures, he loosens up.

At the start, you watch the monitor as the pictures appear, but your eyes end up gravitating toward the live shoot.

Seungcheol catches your gaze. Something stirs in your belly, and you watch as he shifts to sit lower in the chair and spreads his legs. He leans his head back slightly, keeping his eyes on yours. He really could pass as a well-known CEO. He has the looks, the aura, and the work ethic. For the briefest moments, you wonder how successful Seungcheol will be in the future.

“Oh, I love that! Let’s try moving lower, put a leg out,” the photographer instructs.

Seungcheol keeps his expression the same but does as told. He hangs one arm off the side of the chair while the other stays beside him.

“That’s great! Now, eyes on the camera,” they say.

Seungcheol tears his eyes from you to the lens. You release a silent breath you didn't know you were holding.

You can’t help your eyes trailing down his body slouched on the chair.

Seungcheol shifts once more to rest a hand on the top of his thigh. The subtle change makes your mind race with thoughts of being kneeled between his legs. You curse mentally, changing weight to your other hip and looking at the monitor again.

Though that doesn’t help.

Since he’s looking at the camera, his stare bores into yours through the screen. If you didn’t know him, you’d think he’d done this before.

“He looks good,” Yumi whispers beside you.

You turn to her, unable to hide the small pang of jealousy that bursts in your chest.

Yumi laughs and shakes her hands in the air.

“Not like that,” she says, a hint of humor to her tone. “I mean, he looks good enough to make the boss woman happy.”

“Ah. Right,” you mumble.

She smiles and nudges your shoulder, eyes on Seungcheol still posing. You move your gaze to him as well.

He’s sat up now, legs still spread but looking down at the camera. You push away the memories of seeing him in a similar position in private. 

“Though I can’t say you aren’t lucky,” Yumi adds. “He sure is handsome.”

“Yeah. He is,” you murmur. For the first time, you scan the audience, noticing how many of the people watch on with interest. 

“I think we have enough of these,” the photographer announces and turns to you.

Seungcheol stands and follows the photographer toward you.

“Great,” you say, snapping out of your thoughts and reining in your lurking jealousy. “We have enough time for a quick wardrobe change and a few more pictures.”

“Sounds good,” the photographer says.

“Come,” you instruct Seungcheol.

You get him changed and his makeup adjusted quickly. You had a few more outfit options, but with the fiasco earlier, you’ve run out of time to try them all.

You lead Seungcheol back to the set, not having much time to take a break.

You watch from the sidelines again as the photographer guides Seungcheol into different poses and expressions.

Seungcheol has gone into character, following the photographer’s instructions with as much ease as he can for an amateur. Which, to be fair, seems to be above average. You’re surprised to see him doing so well.

By the time they’re done, you only have twenty minutes left of your rented space.

The photographer gives you a flash drive with the photos and let’s you know you have a week to pick your favorite ones so they can edit them. Normally, the photographer would keep the photos and select the best ones themselves, but since this photographer works within the same company, things are a little different.

The hair and makeup team have already cleared out their stuff from the dressing room when you walk in with Seungcheol.

You sit on the couch and grab your laptop, inserting the USB drive into the slot and opening the photos.

“These turned out really good, Cheol,” you praise enthusiastically as you swipe through the photos.

Seungcheol glances up from unbuttoning his shirt. “I guess your advice worked then.”

“What advice?” you ask, distracted with studying the images.

You don’t hear Seungcheol move closer until he grabs the laptop and sets it aside. You look at him confused.

“You said to imagine the camera was you,” he replied.

Your words flood back into your brain. “O-Oh.”

He chuckles.

“I’m glad it worked,” you say, ignoring the pounding of your heart.

He raises an eyebrow. “You don’t wanna know what I was thinking about?”

“You already said me,” you reply hesitantly.

Seungcheol slowly rests his hands on the back of the couch, caging you in. You stare up at him—excited and nervous for his answer.

“You, in that sheer cherry lingerie… wearing that necklace I gave you on our first month anniversary,” he says lowly, deep voice luring you in.

Your mind races with the memory of showing him that for the first time. Warmth floods your chest and goes south recalling how many times you had cum that night. You hadn’t expected him to get so worked up at the sight, but you didn’t complain.

“You were a great inspiration,” he whispers and leans down closer. His lips hover over yours, a smirk on them.

“Kiss me like you want to,” he says.

You curse at him silently. It’s not that you don’t want to, but knowing he knows how badly you want it, makes you stay still.

“I think you want it more,” you reply.

He chuckles and slowly retracts himself. He shrugs, taking off his shirt and placing it on a hanger.

“Where should this go?” he asks.

You swallow the lump in your throat and point to the rack to the left.

He eyes you for a moment longer before setting the hanger on the rack. You know he’s amused by your loss of words.

When he starts unbuttoning his pants, you shoot up from the couch.

“I’m going to make sure everything’s okay out there,” you announce and then swiftly walk toward the door.

“Hey, now,” Seungcheol calls out, grabbing your wrist and gently spinning you into his arms. His hands rest on your hips while yours flatten against his bare, muscular chest.

“You can’t leave me, pretty girl,” he says.

“I—I think you can get dressed without me,” you reply, trying to escape his hold.

“I don’t know,” he hums. He trails his hands up your body and grabs your hands. He pushes them down to the top of his already unbuttoned pants.

“Lend me a hand?” he questions darkly.

“We can’t do anything,” you warn, worried someone will come in.

“I know,” he says with a subtle frown, “but I just… wanna be close to you for a bit.”

Your chest clutches knowing he’s feeling the same about your busy schedules. You’re surprised he’s been here for so long.

“You’re not busy?” you ask, starting to carefully push his pants down his thighs. Your hands brush against his skin, making you yearn for more.

“I had some meetings get canceled,” he explains and watches you lean down slightly to get the rest of the pants off. He steps out of them.

You pick them up and start hanging them when Seungcheol wraps his arms around you from behind. You suck in a breath when you feel his growing bulge against you.

“Sorry,” he mumbles into your neck.

You place the hanger on the rack and turn in his arms.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, finally giving in to the kiss you wanted earlier.

Seungcheol holds you tighter, making you feel him more and causing arousal to shoot downward. It’s been too long since you’ve felt him fill you. You whimper into the kiss accidentally at the mere thought.

“Fuck, you’re making this hard,” he groans while pulling away.

You giggle, dazed by his kiss. “I know.”

He chuckles and rests his forehead against yours.

“That’s not what I meant,” he mutters.

You lean in to peck his lips again.

“I know,” you repeat. “You’re making this hard too.”

And how could he not when he’s kissing you heavenly and pressing up against you with his near-naked body—one that’s a sight for sore eyes.

“Let’s go on a date this weekend,” he suggests, hands rubbing your sides.

“Really?” you ask. You know people go on dates on the whim—you don’t need a reason—yet the idea of one randomly still surprises you.

“Yeah. Wanna spend time with you,” he says and kisses you shortly. “Wanna see you get all dolled up just for me.”

You smile and wrap your arms around his waist. You press your cheek against his naked chest, basking in his embrace.

“I’d like that,” you reply.

“I knew you would,” he says and hugs you tightly. He gives your head a tender kiss, letting the moment run its course.

Although you’re still weary about being so intimate in a public setting, you can’t help but get lost in the desire to feel Seungcheol. To just have him here with you.

“I guess I better get dressed,” he says after a while.

You linger for just a moment, then slowly release him. You feel cold without his heated body against yours.

“You working late tonight?” he asks while changing back into his work suit.

You begin packing the clothes in garment bags.

“Hopefully not. Just my normal hours,” you answer. “And you?”

“Unfortunately,” he sighs.

You hide your frown and zip up the bags.

“How late?” you wonder, hanging the bags from your arms and grabbing your purse.

“Not too late this time. Maybe an hour or two?” he replies.

You nod.

Seungcheol, now dressed, takes the garment bags from your arm despite your protests.

“I’ll help you load your car, then I’ll get back,” he informs.

Nodding once more, you lead him out. There’s only three people lingering around, cleaning the area. You bid them goodbye and guide Seungcheol to your car. After everything is packed, Seungcheol hovers by your side.

“I hope your boss is happy with the photos,” he says.

“She better be,” you reply. “We had a handsome man modeling.”

He grins. “Oh, yeah? You got a crush on ‘em now?”

“A big one,” you tease.

Seungcheol chuckles and kisses your cheek. He seems to want to say something but hesitates.

“I’ll see you at home. Drive safe,” he finally says.

“You too, Cheol.”

Seungcheol opens your car door and makes sure you’re in safely before shutting it. He stays on the sidewalk to watch you depart. In your rearview mirror, you see him turn and head toward his car.

You wish he wasn’t walking in the other direction and hope the day goes by fast. You just want to be in his arms again.

A/N: How could I not take the opportunity to write about Seungcheol modeling with this couple??? Do you guys think this will be the last time PrettyPlease!Seungcheol does this for Cherry? 🫣

For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

Taglist: @musingsofananxiouspotato, @christinewithluv, @lockburn-castle, @iammisstora, @maknae00, @morklee02, @kittyhui, @aeerio, @cherrylovescheol, @ellllsia, @gyuguys

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

[ghcstao3]

not only skilled in combat, ghost also has a knack for pointless talents and party tricks because they’ve just become so easy for him to learn

like spinning pens and flipping coins through his fingers, tying cherry stems with his tongue, solving rubix cubes, opening beer bottles with every method except a bottle opener, and a whole plethora of other things that he never goes out of his way to show off but will if asked

every time any of the 141 think they’ve seen it all, ghost suddenly has a new thing he learned, and they all wonder at what point does ghost run out of ideas of what skill to pick up next

[juniepops]

Tying a cherry stem with your tongue is so fucking passé. It’s beginner shit. I gnaw on plastic dice and boardgame pieces then spit out a custom painted Space Marine.

[vomitspit2]

concept with floyd leech. (expansion from the mafia universe, pre-NARC)

shit hits the fan frequently in floyd's life.

that is how it has always been. an accumulation of monkey doo-doo that is thrown into the fan blades that lead to things like cars exploding into fiery wrecks, new hues of purple bruises and red cuts on his skin, and tender cheek kisses from the grim reaper. he likes it like this. every day, he gets a little taste of death.

this time, he has taken too big of a bite.

he realizes it on the cusp of weaving in and out of death and life's doors. the epiphany settles in when the cut along the left side of his face is deep enough he can stick his tongue out of it. and, the truth of it is thrown in his face when his captors leave him -- floyd fucking leech -- in his four-walled prison with a gun, not to break himself out but rather 'if you truly won't tell us the information, here's this. we'll allow you the mercy of getting to kill yourself.'

they might as well just take out their cocks and piss on him. this is humiliating. this is beneath him. this is ... going to be the end of the line.

cheek on the grimy ground, he reflects upon that. at least every day, tasting the faint lipstick of the grim reaper under his teeth, he lived how he wanted to, did it his way as good old frank sinatra said.

floyd is humming to himself that jazz tune as he watches pinwheels of colors swirl in his vision and little fireworks of black pop in the skies of a blackout creeping up on him.

jade's gonna be pissed. azul's gonna bitch and bargain. mama's gonna cry. pop's gonna deny. you're gonna ...

you're probably gonna be fine. you and floyd don't know each other that well. you've only known each other for two months. most of that time has been spent going at it like rabbits. the pillow-talk is zilch. not really a relationship of substance where you would have any reason to grieve him.

if anything you're just gonna be sad that you're not getting your world rocked in bed ... floyd huffs a humorless laugh at that. at least the sex was great, mind-blowing chemistry from that first night and he has yet to grown bored.

floyd closes his eyes, cheek leaking an oil puddle of red, trying to conjure up a memory from over these previous two months. if he is going to finally bite the dust, he wants his thoughts to be filled with nothing but the euphoric memory of an orgasm as he bounces you on his cock. a good memory to blanket his dying mind with.

that is not what comes to floyd's mind. instead, he is remembering you sitting criss-cross in your panties, feeding your bunny oswald. floyd stands by your kitchen island, digging earwax out with his shower towel, dripping on your vinyl floor. he watches in the small visible space, bordered by your thigh and elbow, as oswald nibbles up piece after piece of kale. you don't talk to him, expecting him to leave soon.

dying on a warehouse's filthy floor, floyd watches you, entranced in his brain with this continuous motion of you handing piece after piece of kale to oswald. in his mind, the bowl never empties or loses its weight of fullness.

your back is pretty, your hair after sex is nice, your panties are a cute color, you're a real good person who deserves a boyfriend.

i kinda wanna know more about them ... the thought causes his eyes to pop open. all that he sees is a lime-green that bounces in watery waves. it surprises floyd greatly, that sudden thought that he's never had before.

he falls into the thought softly ... i wonder if they have hobbies ... when did they get a bunny ... i wonder i wonder i wonder ... he is still wondering when he puts a new piercing into his captor's chest. he wonders all the way home, wonders what’s your favorite food, do you hate a certain type of entertainment genre, are you a silver or gold jewerly-wearer? he wonders more and more questions — favorite sport; pet-peeves; any special talent like being double-jointed or tying knots in cherry stems, any stupid small things about you he yearns to learn — while azul's doctor (paid with generous hush money) stitches the hole in his face back up.

he holds all his questions until after a week later, after he has given you your second orgasm and him his first orgasm. he is pulling out, flopping on the right side of the mattress, closest to the exit like always.

you are not unnerved by this, panting and soaking in the moment, you barely even look at him.

you jump out of your skin when you feel a finger tucking a stray hair behind your ear. "what are you doing," you gasp, partly from exhaustion and partly from bewilderment.

"hey, shrimpy," your booty call starts slowly and sweetly, "ya got any hobbies?"

it is such a surprising question that you laugh ... until you realize, unnerved, that he is being serious. he is looking at you with round, puppy-dog eyes, waiting to soak in all the information you are going to give him.

you shouldn't tell him anything. information is valuable, you know that. but, there is something in his handsome face that makes you take the leap.

you can't help but be a little loose tongued as you shift onto your side, bare chest squishing on the mattress, a heartbeat pulse between your legs, and both hands sandwiched under your cheek.

"yeah, i do. i like to --"

and that's how it starts.

sometimes, you think you should have kept your mouth shut.

[kurishiri]

Ikemen Villains: Vogel character card translations

translations may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties. Please reblog, not repost!

Darius Vogel

birthday: 10/14

height: 177cm

affiliation: Vogel

curse: Swan Lake • Rothbart

hobbies: finding Cursed ones, milk puzzles

skills: has a good sense of smell, has very good eyesight (as good as a falcon’s)

favorite foods: anything that looks hard to make or looks hard to obtain

least favorite foods: scones, potatoes

dislikes: taking care of living things

weapon: sword in a cane

Nica Schwartz

birthday: 03/02

height: 180cm

affiliation: Vogel

curse: Swan Lake • Odile

hobbies: reading and writing to gain knowledge, reading records of sea voyages

skills: forging handwriting, imitating writing, tying a cherry stem with his tongue

favorite foods: expensive-looking foods

least favorite foods: cheap-looking foods, jelly beans

dislikes: platonic love, any type of deep affection

weapon: gun

Ring Schwartz

birthday: 03/02

height: 180cm

affiliation: Vogel

curse: Swan Lake • Odile

hobbies: staying at the edge of his room, siesta while staring at the sky

skills: battle, classic martial arts, getting animals to like him, remembering the names of flowers

favorite foods: foods that come in a large amount

least favorite foods: jelly beans

dislikes: eating meals alone

weapon: long sword

( Darius ╱ Nika ╱ Ring ) — the cast’s first impressions — character cards

[somethingheavenknows]

gaming chair

pairing: matt sturniolo x (female) reader

genre: SMUT smut smut smut

summary: matt’s been gaming for too long, and you’ve grown impatient.

tags/content warning⚠️: swearing, lots of pet names- especially princess, daddy!matt, soft dom!matt, slight subspace! reader, mentions of body consciousness, begging (both ways 😏), praise, fingering, riding, mentions of cockwarming and oral (female receiving).

everyone asked for nasty… so here you go.

nsfw content below the cut. i’m not your mother, but either way, proceed with caution.

——————————————————————————

he had to be doing it on purpose. there was no other explanation. matt was sitting there to taunt you. his t-shirt hung from his shoulders so nice, like it was the comfiest and most stealable shirt in the world. those threadbare grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, the band of his boxers poking out like a feast for your eyes, and he sat with his legs spread wide. that spot right on his lap looked perfectly sized for you to take a seat, and you wanted to so badly.

     "are you almost done?" you squeaked from the bed. you've been watching him play video games in that irresistible state for three hours now, and you were starting to get needy. that stupid game. you wanted his attention back.

     "yeah, almost. do you need something, love?" matt replied.

     "mhm," you hummed, "jus' bored... that's all."

     matt's posture straightened right out at your tone, and he made quick work of saving his progress and exiting out of the game. his brain shuffled so quickly through the process that he nearly knocked his soda can off the desk in his frenzy. the boy swiveled around in his chair and smiled, his eyes hazing over dreamily as he took a look at you. you were snuggled up in his pillows and holding the teddy bear he'd won you at a fair some time ago so tightly, smiling back. you batted your eyelashes, knowing how he loved the way they fluttered. a little pair of sleep shorts squeezed your bottom, nothing beneath them, and you wore a big black t-shirt that he wanted nothing more than to take off.

     "come here, then. what are you waiting for?"

     you put down your teddy and crawled to the foot of the bed, swinging your legs down and hopping off. he slid down in his gaming chair for you and patted his lap, which you clambered into with ease. you felt a bit self-conscious on top of him this way.

     "m'not too heavy, right?"

     "course not, love. you're perfect. just right," he tucked a lock of silky hair behind your ear.

     the boy ran his hands up and down the sides of your body, committing the curves of your lovehandles and hips to memory. you locked your palms behind the back of his neck and twisted the tawny curls around your fingers. his hair was so soft, and growing so long. so grabbable.

     "you're so pretty, angel. such a pretty girl."

     "really?"

     "really, darling. absolutely. god, just look at you."

     he craned his neck up and you closed the gap, pressing your lips to his. he kissed you soft, and you felt your entire body fizzle like a live wire. he swiped his tongue against your bottom lip, asking you sweetly for permission, and you answered by parting your lips and letting him inside. the kiss grew heated then, his tongue tying knots with yours like you were one big cherry stem. your hands pressed flush to his chest, balling up the fabric of his shirt. the rough pads of his fingers toyed at the hem of your top with uncertainty, and then he decided to do it; he slipped his palms right under and began to run them all across your stomach and your waist, playing with the baby soft skin.

     "fuck," he groaned into your mouth, "so pretty, baby. can't get enough of you."

     "need you, matty," you mumbled, feeling yourself slipping into a familiar, cushion-like headspace already. you always melted like this when matt touched you; something about him was so all-consuming, so intoxicating, so safe, that you fell away, your awareness blurred at the edges where his lips kissed and his voice deafened. he made it so easy to let go.

     "need me, huh? want me to touch you, pretty girl?"

     "mhm."

"where, babe?"

you let out a grumble of frustration, drawing out a lengthy, "matty, come on..."

     "lost your words, huh? want me to do it all for you, princess?"

     in a beg barely above a whisper, you agreed. "please,"

     you ground into his lap, which pulled something reminiscent of a growl from matt's lips. he trapped your hips beneath his strong hands and helped you stay steady as you drew big swooping circles on him. there was a pit in your stomach, and it was trembling, climbing to a crescendo slowly as you felt the pressure of him through his pants.

     he wasted no time in pushing his hand down the front of your sleep shorts, sliding his long fingers across the skin. his fingers were just warm enough, and you shivered when his calculative touch reached the wet patch between the fabric and you. 

     "christ, already so wet for me," he teased with a smirk, that plush bottom lip pouting like some sick joke. "were you thinking about me while you sat behind me, love? watchin’ me play? thinkin' 'bout what i would do to you once i was done?"

     you nodded, letting out a soft whine as he teased your entrance with his fingers. a string of dopey "yes"s spilled over the chasm of your lips, beginning to swell from how hard you bit down.

     "what a bad girl you are," matt's voice grew dark, "thinkin' of me touching you when you're right behind me. about how good i'd feel inside you, how i can make you feel. oh, love," he sighed, like you were unredeemable, like he could never fix this part of you. he clicked his tongue condescendingly, "surprised you didn't touch yourself back there when i wasn't looking."

     "mm-mmm," you shook your head, "w-wanted to save it for you."

     "that's my girl. such a good girl, waiting for me. you deserve to feel so good, angel. gonna make you feel so good."

     there was no warning when his fingers plunged deep, curling inside of you like a hook. your moan escaped so lewdly that you flushed with shame, burying your face in his neck. he chuckled as he carefully began dancing his two strongest fingers, the middle and the ring, back and forth at a torturously slow pace; even through your shorts you could hear the noises coming from the center of your hips, and you whined. matt was in a different kind of heaven as you were dripping all over his hand.

     "fuck, baby, look at you."

     you began to work yourself on his fingers, fucking yourself with him like a toy. he hummed as you twisted around and around on his palm, and he dove for your collarbone, sucking hard on the sensitive skin and leaving sloppy kisses all across your chest.

     "feels so good, daddy," you whined into the searing skin of his cheek, and you felt the muscle bunch up in a smile.

     "there she is. my pretty baby," he cooed, eyes nearly rolling back at his nickname. he loved when you let it slip, because it always did, no matter how hard you tried to hold it back. “look how sweet you are, all worked up from my fingers. daddy can't wait much longer, princess,"

     "p-please do it."

     "words, baby, words."

     "fuck me, please. right here in the chair. right in your chair, daddy, please."

     that was all he needed you to say. he pulled his fingers out and lifted you up so he could shimmy his sweatpants down just enough. if your eyes were open, you’d have gasped at his size, but they were screwed shut so tightly as the emptiness in your stomach begged to be filled again. tauntingly, he dipped his fingers back inside you and coated them with the taste of you, pressing them on your tongue like a treat before using the leftovers to slick himself. then, he grabbed your hips and lined himself up, and he helped you lower yourself down. and like the good girl he promised you were, you took him all the way.

     "so tight, princess," he moaned, "so fucking tight, oh my god- can't believe you sat back there and thought about me fucking you. should've spoke up, love, i needed you so bad. i was thinking about it too."

     he guided you back and forth and you followed his rhythm, riding him slow and deep. you felt like you might fall apart on him, unravel like a teddy with a loose stitch.

     "thought about fucking you until your eyes rolled back, y’know. about takin’ you with my headset on, so all my friends could hear you moaning for me, screamin’ my name. thought about your tight little pussy the entire time- fuck, angel, you feel so good- faster, princess, please,”

     you followed orders, and your moans turned into faint whispers of screams. he kissed all over your chest and neck as you called out for him, your hands buried in his hair and tugging so hard it made his eyes roll.

     "fuck! faster, princess, faster! you're gonna make me cum, angel, please!" he whined, burrowing in your chest and heaving his hot breath across your skin. you twisted and turned as fast as you could handle, addicted to the fullness, how he felt like such a perfect fit. "baby, please! please, please, please!" he babbled, all high and desperate. it turned you on so much that he couldn't help but beg you to make him cum.

     "fuck, mat- i- oh, daddy,” your head lolled, and you struggled to keep your pace. matt’s strong palms stitched to your sides, giving you some much needed encouragement. feeling the heat in your stomach burning like fire, you croaked, “m'gonna... god, i’m...!"

     "cum for me, princess. cum all over me. jesus christ, you’re… fuck, that’s it, angel, don’t stop. keep fucking going.”

     it only took a few more snaps of your hips until you crumbled. and in a way, it was sort of like having an exorcism. you twitched and trembled against his body, almost watching yourself from afar as your entire body buzzed, pulsated; you tugged his hair so hard you feared ripping some out. you rode him even longer, through the sensitivity, because it was all too good to stop. the boy came only moments after you did, and there was so much of it you felt it running, dripping everywhere in a mess. you moaned wildly into his neck, imprinting toothy love bites behind his ear, and he sat there and took it, nipping and praising you.

     "good girl. that's my good fucking girl. came so hard for daddy, princess, my pretty girl," he cooed, "can't believe you sat there... so cute how bad you need me inside of you all the time."

     you kissed him hard, your teeth clashing and your hands all over his body as you sat on his cock, keeping him warm. he patted your bottom and smiled strangely, like he had a new plan. he told you, "i'll help you get up, love. want you to lay down for me." 

     "hmm?" you asked, fighting through the haze in your head.

     "oh, m’gonna eat you, princess. lay back for me, love, and i'll do all the work. want you to cum all over my face this time,” he muttered, catching your swollen bottom lip between his teeth and tugging just gently enough to allow butterflies to crawl up your spine. “who do you love, hm? who, baby?”

“you, daddy,” you whispered, seeing stars.

“mhm. that’s right. and daddy loves you. now, lay down.”

[blues824]

Can I have headcanons about how Malleus would react when he tried ice cream cake (a combination of both his favorite and least favorite foods), fried ice cream and gelato for the first time, especially during his birthday? Bonus points if he compared ice cream and gelato and tasted both of them just to see which one he likes better.

Gender-neutral reader.

Malleus Draconia

When you invited him to Ramshackle so he could taste-test a few different things for his birthday, he was very excited to do so. You said that you had ice cream, and he loved both of those things: his Child of Man, and ice cream. He actually wasn’t patient enough to go there normally, and actually teleported to your dorm in pure excitement.

However, the ice cream came in a plot twist: it was in different forms!

The first thing you had him try was ice cream cake. It was a bit hard to get him to agree to try it, as he didn’t like cake, but you promised that he only needed to have a small slice and that he needed to try all three layers. He decided that it wasn’t a full cake, and thus he had no need to worry. Plus, you were holding the fork up to his mouth, so if he was being fed by his beloved, it wouldn’t be so bad.

He actually quite enjoyed it. It was a two-layered chocolate cake with ice cream for the filling, and he actually wanted another bite. After all, it wasn’t eating a whole cake if you were sharing it with your beloved. However, his feelings kind of soured when he learned that you had baked the cake with Trey Clover. You’ll have to excuse him: his draconic instincts make him a bit… possessive.

Anyways, the next thing to try was fried ice cream. At first it didn’t make sense, but you told him how exactly you did it and it started to click for him. However, since he had the first bite of the ice cream cake, he deemed it your turn to have the first bite of the fried ice cream, so you did. It was definitely very sweet but also very crunchy, and you held the fork to his mouth again and he took a bite.

Malleus ended up liking it better than the ice cream cake, mainly because it was topped with whipped cream and a cherry. He did that thing where he took the cherry stem and tied it in his mouth, making you a bit flustered. He told you that growing up in isolation had him learning many different tricks, and tying cherry stems with his tongue was one of them.

Up next was what looked like normal ice cream. You said it was called gelato, and he made a note to research about it later. Anyways, it was thicker than the ice cream his retainers would get at Sam’s shop. You held a spoonful up to him, and he took a bite. Bro immediately fell in love with the gelato. It was his favorite that he tried that day.

You found the look of joy on his face absolutely adorable as he gently took the spoon from you and scooped up some, and brought it to your lips this time. You took a bite, and you accidentally bit into it. You shivered and when he asked what was wrong you told him that your teeth were sensitive to the cold (so are mine lol) and you bit into the frozen dessert. He let out a laugh before continuing to dig in.

You then asked if he liked gelato or ice cream better, and he declared that gelato was his favorite over ordinary ice cream. He asked, like a very happy little boy rather than the future king of Briar Valley, if he could have some more and you nodded your head with a smile. You then told him that it would be at his birthday party that you were planning for him, and he grew even more excited.

[jadeshifting]

— 100 SCRIPTING IDEAS.

TODAY’S ISSUE: ROAD TRIPS

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　

(can you tell that i’ve been watching a lot of supernatural and that a lottttt of my lovely brain matter is made up of dreamy thoughts of 1967 chevy impalas? anyways.) here’s a list of 100 road trip-related things to include in your script, blending safety precautions with vivid, romanticized gestures to ensure your trip is the ride-or-die experience

BAREFOOT ON THE BLACKTOP . you kick off your shoes at an empty overlook, dancing barefoot on the sun-warmed pavement to music from the car—your laughter carried by the wind like a love song in itself

BLANKETED BACKSEAT . you turn the backseat into a cozy nest of blankets and cushy pillows for stargazing out the sunroof, or sneaky naps on peaceful stretches of empty road

BREAKDOWN IMMUNITY . the car never breaks down, runs out of gas, or overheats—smooth sailing guaranteed

BREEZE ON DEMAND . every time you roll the windows down, the breeze sweeps through your hair in the most cinematic way, always giving you your effortlessly windswept moment

CACTUS ADOPTION . you pull over at one of those random desert gift shops, buy a tiny cactus, and name it something dumb like Spike. now you have a plant baby for the rest of your time on the road (always room for more company)

CAMPSITE WITH A VIEW . campsites you stop at are free, with stunning starry skies, a gentle breeze, and no mosquitoes

CANDIDS . your lover or other travel companions appreciate you in all your windblown, on-the-road charm, and take plenty of perfectly cinematic pics to reflect that (you’ll never run out of “this was your mom when she was younger” pics from this trip)

CANDY STAYS SOLID . it never melts, even if it’s left in the car on scorching days

CAR CHARCUTERIE . you pack a fancy charcuterie board for snacking on the go—because road trip food doesn’t always have to be basic or dripping in grease

CAR ROOF . you lay on the roof of the car—middle of the night to admire the crystal-clear stars out on the dark roads, or middle of the day to find ridiculous shapes in the billowing clouds

CAR WASH . you have to stop at least once to rinse off the car, and to show off how good you look when you accidentally get sprayed with the hose (bonus points if it turns into an all-out washer frenzy and everyone ends up soaked)

CHERRY STEMS . make pit stops for cherry slushies, though you have to challenge your lover to a knot-tying contest with the stems (loser owes the winner, duh)

CHILLED DRINKS . your cooler ensures you can always crack open icy bottles of soda, sparkling waters, and chilled juice

COFFEE KEEPER . your lover hands you their still-warm mug from the roadside cafe, trusting you to hold it steady as they drive, fingers brushing every time they reach over for a sip—shared warmth lingering like a secret between you

COFFEE STOPS . gas station coffee actually tastes like a barista brewed it (not like a troll spat in it)

COMPLIMENTARY PRIZES . your stays at hotels and motels include complimentary snacks, crisp sodas and drinks for the road, and little bars of soap that you can take with you (you’ll never use them, but they’re good souvenirs)

CORNFIELD CONFESSIONS . you’re bound to find yourself on a random country road lined with cornfields—you stop, take a slow walk through the fields, and whisper secrets to your companion, or maybe just for the corn stalks to hear. they’ll keep them for you

CROISSANT STOPS . hunt for bakeries in between the greasy diners and roadside attractions, savor flaky pastries and share buttery kisses with your lover

DASHBOARD POLAROIDS . take snapshots and tuck them into the dashboard—like an evolving scrapbook of your route

DASHBOARD STARRY NIGHTS . park at a quiet overlook, the kind that sits atop a twinkling town—lean back against the dashboard, and watch the stars flicker like they’re putting on a show just for you, fall asleep in the car overnight and know that you’re safe

DIVE BAR CRAWL . find the dimmest, shadiest dive bar on your route to have a cheeseburger at, and ignore whatever sticky stain is on the table because you’re so immersed in winning the game of pool afterwards

DREAMY HITCHHIKERS . you meet fascinating characters with wild stories at each pit stop, the kind of people that keep you chattering about them until you meet another—you have countless stories by the time your trip is done, even if they aren’t your own

DRIVE-IN DREAMING . pull up to a small-town drive-in theater, snuggle under a blanket barely big enough for the two of you, and enjoy whatever grainy film they’re showing (including the little cluster of mosquitos drawn to the projection)

EARBUD ENTANGLEMENT . when the radio cuts out in the middle of nowhere, untangle those wired earbuds—hopefully your worst challenge so far—then share them, one earbud each, and lean your head on their shoulder until the radio recovers

FARM STANDS . roadside farm stand litter the parts of your route that traverse through the old back country, you snag a warm blackberry pie and a bottle of freezing lemonade, and devour it with sticky fingers while the sun sets behind the hills

FAST FOOD INSURANCE . drive-throughs have no lines and mess up zero orders (imagine the time you’d lose having to walk all the way inside, faint)

FIREWORKS FROM THE FREEWAY . somewhere along the stretch of road, you catch fireworks bursting far off on the horizon; you both roll down the windows, laughter mingling with the breeze, turning a moment of chance into unplanned exhilaration

FIZZY CHEERS . keep a champagne, a sparkling water, or at least a soda pop on hand that you can shake up—at least once you’ll have to pop a bottle and toast to the scenery or your adventures

FLAT-FREE TIRES . no popped tires, ever, no matter the terrain or debris

FOOD TRUCK CRAWL . dedicate at least a day to eating at every food truck you find along the way—you never know what gems you’ll find roadside

FOREVER PHONE SIGNAL . even in the middle of nowhere or heading up to the peaks of the mountains, your phone bars stay strong

GAS STATION GOURMAND . you comb through aisles of offbeat snacks with reverence—spicy chips, sugared sodas, neon candies—and present your finds to your lover who’s pumping gas, their smile your prize

GAS STATION LUXE . at all the rest stops, the bathrooms are shockingly clean and smell like cooling mint and lavender

GHOST TALES . you’re bound to drive through some creepy areas late at night, make up some tales to scare the shit out of eachother—maybe it’ll lighten the mood (or make it worse, shrug)

GINGHAM DAYDREAMS . spot a cute country diner with red gingham curtains and grab coffee swirled with cream and sugar inside while you plan your imaginary life as locals

GOLDEN HOUR . your lover catches you staring at them while they drive, golden-hour light spilling across their face, and with a smirk they say, “What?”—but you only laugh softly, pressing your forehead to the window, the only answer the quickened beat of your heart

GRIMY GLAMOUR . with the angelic outfits you must have planned for your trip, it shouldn’t be difficult to turn a grimy rest stop into a photo op that’s inspired—bonus points if you take pictures by the gas pump when you don’t even pump your own gas (if you do, why isn’t your lover doing it for you, hm?)

HIDDEN GEM GAS STATIONS . you stumble across plenty of gas stations with charming shops, delicious snacks, and most importantly: clean bathrooms

INTERIOR LIGHTS . customizable mood lighting inside the car—cozy purples and night sky blues for evening drives, electric neon pinks and yellows for when it’s hyper late at night

LATE NIGHT PASTRIES . in a sleepy town, you and your companions wander into a 24-hour bakery, the scent of freshly baked croissants wrapping around you like a warm hug—sitting side by side on a bench outside, nibbling on buttery treats, the world still and waiting for tomorrow

LIGHTER FLICK FABLES . use an old-school lighter (of your own, or borrowed from the gruff gas station attendant) to roast mini marshmallows at a pitstop and tell stupid, terrifically creepy campfire stories with tired grins

LIKE A DJ BOOTH . the car has an absolutely killer sound system that you can fully trust to provide arguably the most crucial facet of your trip (what’s the point of anything without a cinematic soundtrack?)

LOCAL LOVE . the locals always give you great tips on where to eat, visit, or explore whenever you’re visiting (no one gives you the evil eye for being out of town)

LOST & LOVING IT . you take a wrong turn on purpose, just to stumble on a scenic route or some unexpected roadside attraction that’s unbelievably weird but just perfect enough to feel like fate

LOVE-LOCKED . find a bridge to leave a love lock with your initials on it—the proof of your trip is eternal, and your love with the person you took it with

LUXURY IS A MINDSET . rundown motels can be the peak of your trip with the beaten-up quilts wrapping around you and whoever you’re snuggling, the carpeting under your sore feet, and the buzz of the cheap TV playing some grainy film you’d see at your grandmother’s house

LYRICAL GENIUSES . your road trip companions know the words to the songs on your playlist (so you actually have someone to sing along with)

MAIN STREET MAGIC . wander down the Main Street of a tiny town, hold hands while you browse antique stores and the little local coffee shop like you’re building a storybook life, even just for a few hours

MAP-MARKED MEMORY . with an old paper map sprawled across your lap, you mark the stops with little hearts—here’s where you kissed by the river, here’s where you found the world’s best pie, here’s where the day felt endless and perfect

MIDNIGHT MILKSHAKES . a 24-hour diner on the edge of nowhere becomes a sacred stop, the two of you sharing a single strawberry milkshake, pink foam bubbling against your lips as your knees bump beneath the table

MIDNIGHT SWIMMING . stop at a lake under the stars (if there’s no lakes, there’s always local pools to be broken into), go for a dip in the middle of the night, hold on tight to your lover (even if you’re not scared)

MIRROR SCRIBBLES . keep a dry-erase marker handy so you can leave little notes on the windows (or so you can scribble things like “graduation trip, cashapp $10” on the back windshield)

MORNING MISSIONS . your breakfast stops consist of stacks of pancakes at roadside diners, all the syrup you can imagine, and steaming coffee enjoyed in cozy booths to prepare you for the day ahead

MUSIC GENIE . your playlist seems to curate itself without any help—every song feels like it was perfectly destined for your current stretch of road

NAPKIN NOTES . leave a little love note on a pie-stained napkin from a roadside diner and tuck it into your lover’s bag for them to find later—old-school romance at its finest

NECK MASSAGES . as the road drags on, you massage your lover’s neck so they don’t get stiff from driving, your fingers working their skin gently while they give you that “you’re too good to me” look out of the corner of their eye

NEVER-LOST GPS . your navigation system always finds the quickest, safest, and most scenic routes—you never get turned around

OCEAN OVERLOOK . you pull off the winding road to a quiet bluff, where the sea stretches endlessly below—your lover resting their head on your shoulder as the two of you sit on the hood of the car, wrapped in a shared blanket, breathing in salt-kissed air and listening to waves crash

OLD-SCHOOL . give a paper map a shot—there’s something charming about a crinkled map that you can’t quite tell up from down on

OVERNIGHT OASIS . you spend at least one night at a kitschy roadside motel, hang string lights in the room, and earn bonus points if you and your lover pretend it’s your honeymoon suite

OVERNIGHT TALKS . you have the kind of nights driving through to morning, and you stay awake to keep the driver company—you have the kind of talks that flow into deep questions and love over sleepy giggles on the dark road

OWL VISION . crystal-clear visibility on dark roads and during rainstorms

PASSENGER PRINCESS PERKS . your lover is more than happy to handle the wheel while you lounge, snack, and play the part of DJ—being spoiled is half the fun, no?

PEN PALS . you buy postcards and write cute little messages to send home, so you have a stack of them to return to

PETROL . at a quiet gas station, the scent of petrol lingers sweetly in the summer heat while you lean lazily against the car, your lover watching you with an affection so soft it feels like a whispered secret

PHOTO BOOTH HOPPING . you and your lover stop at every roadside diner or shop with a photo booth, you take enough snapshots to fill an album with proof of your love on the road

PICNIC PERFECT . the rest stops you visit have finely manicured picnic areas, where you can actually sit on picnic benches to enjoy your five-dollar food

PINNED POLAROID . a gas station break turns cinematic when your friend snaps a Polaroid of you mid-sip of Coke—your blurry smile and sunlit hair forever pinned to the car’s dashboard

POP THE QUESTION . buy ring pops at a rest stop and exchange them with your lover like they’re three-carat diamonds—it’s the thought that counts

POWER NAPS . snuggling in the backseat to nap feels almost too cozy, you sink into the seat cushions dreamily and sleep tight

PROSE PIXIE . your lover lets you entertain them while they drive by reading your favorite novel out loud to them—soothed by the sound of your voice, while you get to enjoy your favorite narrative all the same

QUIET DRIVE . you get moments of silence, holding hands with your lover while they drive, lulled by nothing but the hum of the car and your own breathing

RAINBOW SIGHTINGS . driving through the rain isn’t for nothing, since rainbows appear after all of them

RAIN-SWEPT . s summer storm sends rain cascading down the windshield like liquid silver; you park in an empty lot, the car becoming your refuge, as you both sit there hand in hand, surrounded by the rhythm of the world outside

ROADSIDE GOURMET . the best greasy-spoon diners and taco trucks appear on your route (somehow exactly when you’re hungry, hm)

ROADSIDE REVELATIONS . long, quiet stretches of road are the place to share your deepest, darkest secrets and confessions with your travel companions—trust grows with the miles

ROCKY BEACH . pull off at a hidden rocky beach, skip stones, and collect driftwood tokens to stash in the trunk as souvenirs—the best kind of beach is the kind with no sand, you’ll want to remember it forever

ROOT BEER FLOATS . you park at a vintage soda fountain, sip on a giant root beer float under the beating sun with two straws, and argue playfully over who gets the last sip

SELF-CLEANING INTERIOR . no crumbs, stains, or sticky messes—ever

SHARED SHERBET. an orange sherbet cone sits precariously in their grip as you lean over to steal a bite, lips brushing their knuckles for a half-second too long—sweetness lingering long after the ice cream melts

SNACK HOLDERS . the cupholders manage to fit anything you need, from your morning coffee cups to family-sized chip bags

SNACK SMUGGLER . your best friend hands you a crinkling bag of gummy worms they stashed like contraband, grinning as they remind you why road trips taste better when snacks are sneakily passed between seats

STARGAZING . you pull over under a sky so clear the stars feel close enough to touch, sprawling on the car hood side by side—hands brushing as you name the constellations you know and make up stories for the ones you don’t

STORM STOPS . you find quaint inns or diners when rain hits, making bad weather feel romantic, rather than inconvenient

STRETCH ROOM . the car always feels just roomy enough for everyone, without you having to lug some massive RV down the highway

SUNRISES . make sure you wake up early enough to watch the sunrise together, the way the pinks and golds light up the windshield, and whisper to eachother while the world is still waking up

SUNVISOR ANGEL . reapply your lipstick in the sun visor mirror, and smirk a little bit because you know they’re sneaking a glance at you longingly

SUGAR STOP . your lover buys you a pack of your favorite candy, unprompted at a gas station—a quiet indulgence shared between kisses sticky with sweetness and the crinkle of wrappers in the cup holder

SUNDAE FUN . you pull into a sun-drenched diner with chrome stools and checkered floors, where your lover orders the tallest ice cream sundae on the menu—two spoons, one glass, and a cascade of whipped cream that melts faster than you can catch it, leaving you both giggling through shared bites, the sweetness lingering long after the last cherry is gone

TIRE BLOWOUT . but only so you have an excuse to watch your lover change a tire, and give them a little bit of motivation to hurry up and get back in the car

TOUCHY DRIVER . your lover can’t keep their hands off of you while driving, holding your hand and stroking it with their thumb gently, placing a steady hand on your knee or your thigh, and leaning over to steal kisses (though they should probably keep their eyes on the road)

TRAVEL TOKENS . gather little keepsakes—pressed pennies, matchbooks, postcards, or receipts with dumb doodles on the back, so you can keep them all together and remember even the tiniest details from your trip

TRUCKER GLITZ . one of the places you stop for gas must have tacky trucker hats you can get to match, bonus points if they’re bedazzled

TUCKED AWAY NAPS . borrow your lover’s worn-out charcoal gray sweatshirt, curl up with it as a pillow against the window and pretend the hum of the road is a lullaby

TWILIGHT FIREFLIES . fireflies appear in the evening, adding an unexpectedly moody and intimate glow to your rest stops

VINTAGE MOTEL . you stumble upon a roadside relic bathed in neon glow, its sign flickering like a heartbeat from another era—inside, you and your lover collapse onto a creaky bedspread patterned with faded roses, sharing laughter that echoes off chipped walls and stories whispered under the hum of a buzzing fluorescent light

WEATHER WHISPERER . the weather seems to very conveniently adjust to be perfect for driving and sightseeing

WILDFLOWERS . you collect the wildflowers at the pit stops and along the cracked blacktop of gas stations, because the prettiest flowers always seem to thrive outside of gardens

WINDCHIME FIND . you spot a rusted roadside antique shop and stumble upon a delicate windchime, its soft notes singing into the afternoon as you mull over hanging it on the rearview mirror—a gentle soundtrack for the miles ahead

WORLD’S LARGEST EVERYTHING . make a pact to stop at every “world’s largest” attraction on the way to your destination (i’m partial to the world’s largest peanut. sue me)

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