#i love a beach and i love a sunlight and i love a hot weather | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

barefoothighlander · 1 year

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call me little sunshine

-summary: you come home for summer break to find a new man has moved in next door, he’s charming and mysterious so you welcome him to the neighbourhood

-simon ‘ghost’ riley x innocent fem!reader

-warnings: mdni 18+, dark themes, slight stalker!ghost, dub con, corruption, masturbation (fem), unprotected p-in-v, fingering, creampie, dumbification kinda, size kink, dom!ghost, orgasm denial, ghost has a filthy mouth, spit play if you squint, loss of virginity, oral (fem rec), mention of alcohol, mention of scars, age gap (reader is in 20s, ghost is in 30s)

next part masterlist

a/n: this is pure smut with plot and I regret nothing, this fic contains dark themes so please be advised, also not proofread.

The air was thick, its humidity almost choking you as the sound of thick waves lapping on the beach overtook your hearing, the hot June sun welcoming you as you stepped out onto the porch. You loved being home, even if it was only for a few months, you missed the simplicity of being there, no coursework to worry about, no job weighing on your mind just cold lemonade and swimming in the ocean.

As you situate yourself on your porch, book in hand your eye is caught by the sight of a large broody man moving boxes next door, your dad hadn’t told you that anyone new was moving in, you didn’t even know the previous owners had left, shame, you really liked them, you shake him from your mind and return to your book, settling in against the soft seat cushion.

You read for a while before feeling yourself grow thirsty, moving to the kitchen of the house to find something to drink, as you look out the window above the sink you see him again, only this time he’s not wearing a shirt, it’s tucked into the band of his jeans, every sweat covered muscle gleaming in the sunlight. Your eyes linger on his form before he catches you, stopping what he was doing and giving you a polite smile, you feel your cheeks blush as you return the sentiment with a shy wave, moving out of view to set your back against the wall. Your skin was hot, you figured it had to be from the weather outside deciding to change into something a little more comfortable for the weather, returning outside in a short white dress, patterned with small bumble bees, it sat low on your chest with thin straps that tied into little knots, perfect for the warm weather.

You glance over toward your car, noticing it could use a little cleaning, grabbing a few rags and making your way over, you lean over the hood, dousing the mental in soapy water, moving around, scrubbing different spots, you stand up, legs drenched in water as you hose down the vehicle.

“You’ll have to clean mine sometime” you hear from behind you, turning your head to see him, he’s practically glowing, you have to raise a hand to the sun just to look at him, he’s close, close enough that you can make out every groove of muscle, every scar that littered his toned form, the only thing you can’t make out is the dark ink that decorated his forearm.

“My truck is pretty dirty” he says breaking your trance.

“Oh,” you laugh

“Guess that happens during a move” He gestures toward a large stack of boxes.

You stifle a laugh, “Yeah doesn’t look great”

He smiles, it’s bright and genuine, “I’m Simon” extending a large hand toward you, you smile raising your hands to show the dirty water on them as he laughs, grabbing yours, enveloping it, lightly running a thumb over the skin, the simple contact making you swallow a lump in your throat.

“Right well, I should probably go shower”

He releases your hands, looking at the wetness on his palm that had transferred, watching your dress blow slightly in the wind, threatening to give him a peek at your ass, taunting him, he clicks his tongue before returning to his own work.

The shower does little to soothe you, a growing sensation in your lower stomach as you enter your room, towel-clad body moving around to pick out comfy clothes, it was nearing nightfall, the sound of cicadas echoing outside your open window, remnants of the sunset bathing your bedroom in a warm glow, you huff a breath to yourself, resting on your bed, hips wiggling a bit trying to ease the gentle thrum between your legs, you try to distract yourself with a book but with every turn of the page you find your mind wandering to him, his broad form glowing in the sun, the gleam of his smile, his dark eyes that stared into your soul. Putting your book to the side you gently move your fingers down your body, ghosting over the hem of your panties, teasing ever so slightly before dipping below the band, gentle fingers circling over your clit. You elicit a quiet moan, not used to the sensation, you continue circling as your jaw falls slack, free hand coming to cup at your breast under your shirt, you quicken your pace, back arching off the bed as whispers of moans fall from your open lips, images of your neighbour flashing before your eyes, you imagine his fingers, rough, roaming over your skin, teasing over your sensitive bud as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten, you grip the sheets as your orgasm washes over you, whimpers of his name falling from your tongue. You lay in your bed breathless, turning over in your bed as sleep takes over your mind.

You woke early the next morning, your skin covered in a thin layer of sweat as the heat creeps in through your window, you rub your eyes and move to get dressed, you had to go into town and it was hot again today, you settled on a simple skirt and tank top, something that would let your skin breath as you packed your bag, bidding your Dad a good morning before getting into your car. Your errands took longer than expected, a harsh rain setting over the terrain as you pulled into your driveway, you catch a glimpse of Simon on his porch, a glass of whiskey in hand as he watched the rain fall, offering him a small smile before making your way to the door, digging through your bag to find your keys, panic setting in when you realized they were nowhere to be seen, you peer through the window, willing someone inside to appear and let you in, out of the pouring rain, but no one’s there. Defeated you turn your back against the wall, huffing a breath.

“Locked out?” you hear him call, standing in the safety of his covered entrance.

“Yeah, forgot my keys inside”

“Did you want to wait inside mine?” he offers

You think for a minute, “No that’s alright, I can handle a little rain” you laugh

“You’re gonna catch a cold” he states plainly

You mull it over in your mind, you really didn’t want to be standing in the rain, you nod and make your way over to him, you miss the way his eyes linger on your form, your clothes soaked, clinging to your skin, allowing him the perfect view of your breasts and ass.

“Here come inside”

The two of you step inside, you look around the room, it’s not heavily decorated but small trinkets litter the shelves, a couple plaques hung around the room.

“Wait here, I’ll get you some dry clothes”

You remain still in your spot, and he returns with a small stack of clothes.

“Bathrooms over there doll”

You smile before making your way, his eyes glued to your curves, watching the way your hips move as you walk away. You close the door, stripping your clothes before throwing on the ones he had given you, no doubt belonging to him considering the way they hung loosely on your body, your hair was drenched but there was nothing you could do about it. You return to him standing at the bar,

“Give me those” he says hand extending to the mess of wet clothes in your hand, taking them from you to throw them in the dryer.

“You can sit if you’d like” he points toward the couch across the room,

Smiling at him before making your way over, he follows, propping himself right next to you, you can feel the heat emanating from his body as he reaches an arm to rest behind your head.

“So you just moved in?” you try to make conversation

He takes a swig of his drink turning to face you, “About a week ago, it’s a nice spot”

You nod, “I grew up here, parents moved when I was 4”

“Mmm I didn’t see you when I moved in”

“I just got back from school, summer break”

“Ah, university?” he asks, innocently enough

“Yea, I’m studying history”

“Interesting stuff”

You nod in response,

“I’ve got some old books upstairs, unpublished works from people who’s names I can’t pronounce”

“Where’d you find them?” slight smile creeping onto your face

“Can’t remember, wanna check them out?”

You nod as he guides you up the stairs, leading you into a small study, a sizeable bookshelf sits in the corner, beside a large grey safe.

“What’s in the safe” you turn to face him, he’s leaning against the doorway pinning you under his stare.

“Nothing you need to worry about doll”

You blush at the nickname, he moves across the room picking out an old leather bound book and handing it to you, his fingers ghosting over yours, the contact sends chills up your spine.

“I haven’t read this one” you say shyly

“Well it’s yours anytime you want it” he says, fingers roaming up your bare arms, your eyes are locked on his, body frozen from the contact.

“Can I ask you a question?” he says, leaning down to place his lips next to your ear, his English accent suddenly thicker, his words drenched in honey, you nod, unable to think of words. “Do you like teasing me”, you quirk your eyebrow,

“Huh?”

He smiles against your neck, his hot breath making your hairs stand on end,

“The tiny dresses, the practically see through tops, bending over right in front of me”

You’re confused, “I don’t know what you’re talking about." He bites at your neck causing a small moan to fall from your lips,

“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about love”

You shake your head, “No I swear-” your words cut short at the feeling of his palms roaming under your loose top, coming to rest under the curve of your breasts, your breath hitches as you feel the pad of his thumb come to swipe over your hard nipple.

“Think you can get away with it hmm, making me hard, serving yourself up on a platter for me”

Your eyes flick to his, “I wasn’t- I didn’t mean to”

He shushes you, his hands moving down to grab at the meat of your ass as he presses his body into you, the firm contact of his length pressing against your thigh making you drop the book in your hands.

“S’alright doll, I’ll give you what you need”

You clench your eyes as you feel his hand cup your sex,

“Tsk, no panties, and you tell me you aren’t teasing”

“Th- they were wet”

“Mm so are you” He strokes two fingers through your slit, grazing your clit, forcing your head to fall forward against his shoulder as your hands grip his shirt. He teases over your clit, as you try to grind yourself onto his palm, desperate for contact.

“Needy girl” he whispers, kissing at your pulse point, he slides a finger into you, groaning at the way you clench him.

“Fuck you’re tight, gonna have to work you open for me huh” He grins a sadistic grin, peering at your scrunched face. He continues fucking you with one finger, his rough palm colliding with your clit, creating the perfect mixture of contact that has you teetering on the edge. As you’re about to tip off the edge he removes his hand, earning a whine from you, whimpering at the loss of contact, the heat still burning in your lower stomach.

“Stand up for me pretty girl”

You do as he says, feeling his arms grip under your knees, easily lifting you from the ground to plant you on the desk, kissing at your collarbone as he finds the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head. The cool air grazes your skin as goosebumps begin to form, you watch him with doe eyes as he sinks down, lips latching onto your nipple, his hand coming to toy with the other, he sucks your nipple in, biting it lightly earning a gasp from you as he moves to give the same treatment to the other. He sucks at the valley of your breasts as he moves to take off your pants, urging you to lift up a little so he can slide them off, he moves back, hands spreading your legs as he’s looking at your dripping pussy.

“Such a perfect little cunt” he says, placing soft kisses to the inside of your thighs before licking a stripe through your folds, stopping at the top to tease over your sensitive bud, you instinctively clamp your legs, he grips your thighs, spreading your legs wide allowing him to kneel directly in front of you, the sensation is too much, you’re a mess of moans and whimpers, that familiar heat boiling in your stomach as you clench around nothing, he studies your movements, detaching himself at the last second to bring you slowly back from the edge, you try to grab his head to move him back but he stands firm.

“You’ll cum when I want you to”

You whimper,

“Tell me what you want baby”

You force the words from your throat, "I want to cum”

“Use your manners”

“Please, let me cum”

He smirks, fingers pinching at your nipples, bringing his fingers back to your leaking hole, you moan at the stretch, he pumps slowly, easing you into it as he watches your face contort with pleasure before latching his lips back to your clit. He pumps his fingers into you quicker, your moans growing louder, he bites lightly at your bud at you elicit a yelp, replacing his fingers with his tongue, his thumb circling over your clit, you’re so close you could scream.

“Come on baby, cum on my tongue, taste so good” His praise dries you forward, your hands gripping his hair as your back arches, your orgasm taking over your body, a blinding white light obstructing your view as your moans fall from your open mouth.

“Good girl,” he says, moving up to kiss you harshly, “taste that baby? so sweet”

Your breath is heavy, your mind clouded from your orgasm, you feel weightless as he picks you up, laying you back against the desk.

“Wait” you manage, “I’ve never”, his smirks grows

“Aw baby, are you a virgin”

You nod sheepishly, his mind floods with a million ideas, but right now, he has to feel you. He climbs over your body stripping himself of his clothes, your eyes come into contact with his hard length, widening at the sight.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle” he coos, tip teasing at your folds, he grabs your knees, spreading you wide forcing your body against the mattress as he holds you under his weight, even if you wanted to fight back you couldn’t, body weak from his touch. He pushes in slowly, just the tip at first, watching as your eyes squeeze shut.

“Look at me, wanna watch you as my cock splits you open”

You follow his command, scared of what might happen if you didn’t, as he pushes in further, the stretch of him practically tearing you in half,

“Fuck baby not even half way and you’re squeezin me so tight”

You moan at his words as he continues to press into you inch by inch before bottoming out,

“That’s it baby, just relax”

His thrusts are shallow and slow, easing you into it as your hands cling to his shoulders, he pushes in deep as your back arches, your clit grazing against his pubic hair. He places a firm hand on your lower stomach,

“Fuck, you see that doll” You glance down at where your bodies meet, “Can practically see myself inside you”

Your body fights against the intrusion, the pain of him pressing against your cervix, you’re writhing under him but he leans down to cage you against the bed as he starts fucking into you faster. You’re breathless, careless moans slip from your mouth.

“You feel so good, don’t think I’m gonna be able to stop myself”

You moan in response and he laughs, “Only had my cock for a minute and already can’t talk, you cockdrunk baby,” he says, hand grabbing at your jaw to hold it open before leaning up to spit in your mouth,

“Swallow it” he orders, and you do, the remnants of his whiskey linger, burning your throat as he continues fucking you at a relentless pace, your muscles are weak as he moves back, gripping your thighs tight to your chest, holding you down with his weight.

“I’m gonna fill this little pussy, let everyone know you’re mine” he grunts

You shake your head, trying to tell him no but it comes out as mumbles,

“Shit I’m sorry love, just feels too good”

You claw at him but he persists, long strokes filling you as his balls slap against the skin of your ass,

“Squeezin me so tight, m’gonna cum”

Your attempts at refusal are useless as his balls tighten, pressing himself deep into you as the warm sensation floods your abused hole, fucking into you a few more times making sure you got every last drop before pulling out, he steps back to examine his work, pressing a finger into you,

“Gotta make sure it all stays in”

You groan at the intrusion, the contact making you twitch slightly, he moves beside you placing a kiss on your head,

“Did so well angel”

Your body is jello, limbs exhausted as he holds you tight to him, moving you to the bed across the hall. You don’t know when you fell asleep but you wake up and he’s gone, the remnants of his spend leaking from your sensitive cunt, as you try to get up, noticing the pile of clothes set next to the bed, you dress carefully, trying to maintain your balance and making your way down the stairs, noticing his broad form sat on one of the porch chairs, you creep your way to him, standing by his side.

“Better get home pretty girl, Daddy’s back,” he says nodding towards your father's car in the driveway, your throat is dry, as you walk back to your home, you feel his eyes glued to you, you feel like his prey. You step inside and are greeted by your parents asking about your day, your mind freezes,

“Are you alright honey?”

You take a minute, “Yeah just, super tired I guess, I’m gonna head upstairs” sparing them a smile before making your way to your room, you step into the shower trying to wash everything off you, the warm water soothes your body before you step out, looking at your form in the mirror, noticing a deep purple mark between your breasts, running a light hand over it. You change into pyjamas and settle into bed, your mind is tired, your body is tired, you toss and turn trying to get comfortable, cringing at the feeling of Simon's seed still spilling from you, you turn over in your bed, clenching your eyes shut hoping you were simply imagining him as once again sleep takes over your body.

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bealovesmarauders · 1 year

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paper rings // gilbert blythe

or,

the 4 times gilbert blythe fell in love with you, and the 1 time he knew he’d do it all over again

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖

gilbert blythe x fem!reader

wc: 5.7k

i like shiny things, but i’d marry you with paper rings

a/n: trying something new here! i’ve never used this format (five times // one time- i tweaked it to make it four and one since i’m exhausted) so i hope you all enjoy <3 also fair warning that this is not historically accurate. but i actually spend my summers in PEI (and have for my entire life) so i think my portrayal of the environment at least is good! also, this is rushed as per usual :)

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖

one. when he walked you home from school.

the late june air was sticky in the avonlea schoolhouse, clinging to skin, beads of sweat gathering by brows. sunlight spilled through the windows, and even billy andrews couldn’t muster enough enthusiasm to tease anyone in this heat. pinafores too heavy for this weather, the girls gathered in one corner, pretending to read the excerpt mr phillips had picked out for today, but in honesty, you were all just complaining about the summer heat.

“i can’t wait until i have my hair up,” ruby gillis sighed, casting a longing glance across the room towards the boys. “my ribbon does suit my complexion, of course- but it’s much too hot in summer to have my hair down.”

murmurs of agreement spread throughout your little group. “i tried it one time,” whispered anne dramatically, “when marilla was away. it was rather romantic, but the pins hurt a great deal.”

sitting in between jane andrews and tillie boulter, you tried not to zone out. gaze drifting across the classroom, you caught gilbert blythe’s eye from where he was sitting with the boys, and he shot you a quick smile. you gave him a shy one back, and looked away before you could blush. you’d known gilbert forever- his family was close to yours- but something had changed recently, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

mr. phillips finally dismissed the class, and in a rush of rowdiness, the boys all excused themselves from the schoolhouse, whooping and hollering about a potential skinny dip in the wild waves. in a flurry of giggles and secrets, your friends gathered their books and rushed outside (in a rather unladylike manner- but it was summer and the world was their oyster, so who cared). you knew diana was hosting a tea party over the weekend- complete with ice cream, she’d said!- but as far as you knew, there were no plans for tonight, save the beach trip the boys had talked about. trying your best to avoid the heat for as long as possible, you lingered in the coatroom, taking the time to adjust your hat into place. but you weren’t alone, and you startled as a familiar face appeared over your shoulder.

“gilbert,” you said, his name sweet on your tongue. “you’re not going to the beach with billy?”

he shook his head. “i’m not quite in the mood for that today. but i was wondering. do you want- can i- would you like some company on your walk home?”

heart in your throat, you looked at the boy you’d known your whole life. was gilbert blythe asking to walk you home? you nodded wordlessly, and his eyes immediately softened. there was a nervousness you’d never seen in him before, a cautiousness, as if he were treading on eggshells and was terrified to break them. “i- i’d love that, gilbert, thank you.” a smile slowly spread across his face, and you seemed to see him in a new light. noticing the things you hadn’t before. the softness of his dark eyes and the way they sparkled. the gentle curve of his jaw. the way he smelled like rosemary and mint soap and the blythe farm’s apple orchard, mixed with a hint of cinnamon. the way gilbert blythe was the prettiest boy you’d ever seen.

“great,” he said, finally breaking you out of your reverie. “i wouldn’t want you to get heatstroke, after all. it’d be ungentlemanly of me to let you go home without making sure you’re alright in this heat.”

your stomach erupted with butterflies, and you walked in silence with him as you left the schoolhouse. treading along the path, your footsteps settled into the same rhythm, and eventually gilbert spoke, his voice clear among the songbirds and crickets.

“how’s your family? i haven’t seen them in a fortnight.”

his tone was proper and gentlemanly, but curious and kind. you looked shyly up at him. gilbert was tall, taller than you, sturdy with broad shoulders and a grin that showed off a lopsided roguishness once in a while on his otherwise serious face. you gripped your books a little tighter, trying to focus your thoughts back to the conversation. “they’re good, thanks for asking. mother’s been wondering about you, though. she’s wanted to drop soup off for your father, but wasn’t sure if he’d appreciate it. it’s been a while since you were over, so she doesn’t know if he still likes biscuits or bone broth.”

gilbert scuffed the ground with his boot a little bit, looking down at you contemplatively. “that’s kind of her,” he said. “he’s barely been able to keep anything down, but he likes soup. i’m not sure about the biscuits, but i’d certainly like some. i wouldn’t mind some of your mother’s plum preserves either. i haven’t had much time to go into town for food lately.”

you’d noticed. there were shadows under his eyes, and he’d always been on the lanky side, but since gilbert had taken on more of the farm work you’d observed his cheeks grow more drawn. his muscles had grown, too- another result of all the wood chopping you knew he was doing- but he lacked energy, and your heart ached for the boy. cicadas chirped as you walked in unison through the path, minding the garden snakes slinking through the tall grass, and an idea sparked in your mind as you passed the field signaling close to home.

“gilbert,” you said thoughtfully, stopping in your tracks. “mother was going to make a layer cake today, with raspberry preserves and clotted cream. i’m sure it’s cooled by now. we can have a little picnic, you and i- we have lemonade at home too, that rachel lynde brought us, and father thinks it’s too tart, so he wants to get rid of it. you can bring some home for your father as well. mother wouldn’t mind, i promise- i can make us a picnic basket, and we can sit in that field.”

gilbert turned towards you, and you couldn’t quite decipher the expression on his face. “i don’t want you to pity me,” he said quietly. “much less drag your family into it.”

“no, no,” you said quickly, fearing he’d interpreted your invitation the wrong way. “just a picnic, to catch up, as friends. we haven’t talked in a while. i miss you.”

he bit his lip. you could almost see the gears turning in his head. “alright,” he said finally. “it’s almost summer, after all. i think- i think i’d like that.”

when you reached your house, your mother was more than happy to oblige, giving gilbert a big hug and fussing over how much taller he’d gotten since the last time she saw him. you cut two pieces of cake and put them on plates in the straw picnic basket along with the bottle of mrs. lynde’s infamous lemonade. your mother even let you bring the crystal glasses used for special occasions- she trusted the both of you well enough to know that you wouldn’t break them. covering up the basket with a red checkered tablecloth, you and gilbert set off again, waving goodbye to your mother and finding a spot in the field where there was a tree with enough shade to sit under. clover and goldenrod and cornstalk bloomed in the field, and the cool, sweet grass tickled the bottom of your dress. gilbert, beside you, leaned back against the tree, his broad shoulder touching yours, and spooned a large amount of cake into his mouth. it was the happiest you’d seen him in months. the thin layer of ruby jelly in between the vanilla layers coloured the cupid’s bow of your lips, and gilbert realized in that moment that he wanted very badly to take you into his arms and kiss you. but the moment was fleeting, and gilbert was left with the idea of love lingering on his mind.

that was the first time gilbert blythe realized he was falling for you.

two. when you showed up on his doorstep in the rain.

rain poured outside, streaking the windows and trickling down the roofs of avonlea’s houses. sorrow hung in the air, and black clothing had dominated the church the day prior. it was not often that avonlea had funerals, and when they were, they were a somber affair, impacting every one of its citizens. especially now. it seemed as though the whole world had watched mr. blythe’s casket descend into the soil, and now the rain was fertilizing it. perhaps flowers would bloom on top of his grave. the entirety of the little town hoped so- anything to bring comfort to the blythe’s only son.

you’d seen gilbert at the funeral, features etched with sorrow, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes. but he’d looked resigned as well- putting on a strong face for those who could not. ruby had sobbed hysterically, as had rachel lynde, and even marilla cuthbert had shed a tear. normally, you would have talked to gilbert. you’d been over the day before mr. blythe had died, bringing with you a sweater you and your mother had knit together to help keep him warm. you’d known his health was declining, but it was even more heart wrenching seeing gilbert that way- expression unmoving, body stiff as he accepted the gift. you’d only had a moment with him before mr. blythe erupted into coughs again- a second in which gilbert’s mask slipped and you truly saw the fear plaguing his mind. you’d wished you could have said something to make it all better. but you hadn’t. you couldn’t.

and now you were on his porch, clutching a package of baking soda biscuits and a small posy of forget-me-nots in your hands. you were shivering from the cold rain, and you’d gotten soaked on the way over, but it was worth it. there seemed to be barely any movement in the gray house- you couldn’t spot any candles lit inside from the windows- and you were wondering if gilbert was even here when all of a sudden the door swung open and he appeared.

his expression was unreadable, brown eyes deep with emotion and seeded in sadness. “hi,” he said. “gil,” you breathed back.

after a moment of silence, the words came back to you. “these are for you,” you said, reaching out. your hands were shaking, and whether they were from nerves or the cold, gilbert couldn’t tell. he took the flowers and the parcel from your outstretched hands, almost unsure what to do with them. “they’re biscuits,” you said, mouth dry, trying to fill the quiet. “mother’s baking soda ones. you mentioned you liked them one time, and we were out of plum preserves, but i-”

“thank you,” gilbert said, and although it sounded slightly robotic, his words felt genuine. you looked at your shoes, unsure of what to say next. your parents had always taught you to say “i’m sorry for your loss” to someone grieving, but the phrase felt too unfamiliar. “i- i’ll leave you to it, then,” you stuttered, backing away from the door and turning to go. you didn’t want to intrude- even if he was your friend. because that’s what you were, right? friends. friends visited during difficult times. friends didn’t want to hug all the sadness out of him. but gilbert’s voice cracked when he spoke next, and you turned around.

“no,” he said clumsily. the words are rushed and jumbled from his mouth, and he stumbles over the next ones too. “please. you’re freezing, and soaking wet. come in.”

up until then, you’d hoped you didn’t look that bad. your straw hat had managed to protect the top of your head, but the rest of your hair was stringy and dripping over your shoulders. your cheeks were also flushed, and even in what should have been a moment focused on his own grief, gilbert found himself worrying that you’d catch pneumonia in this weather. he hadn’t expected anyone to visit today, especially not in a rainstorm.

seeing the concern in his eyes, you realized that walking all the way home in a thunderstorm was probably not such a good idea, so you stepped in cautiously per gilbert’s invitation. the house was warm, but everything seemed dim and gray. the door you knew led to mr. blythe’s bedroom was closed, and you could see gilbert’s eyes darting towards it as well, as if he were praying you wouldn’t say anything. gilbert set down the parcel of biscuits on the kitchen table and looked around for something.

“do you have a vase?” you asked quietly. “i can fill it up with water for you. i thought the forget-me-nots would bring a little light.”

gilbert nodded, but sucked in a breath. you turned to him with a questioning look. “the vase,” he said, voice dry. “it’s in his room. mrs. lynde brought some peonies over while he was still sick, and i didn’t take them out. he’s always hated peonies- he thinks they’re too big and bold. but he would’ve loved these.”

you lightly touched the small forget me not bouquet, felt the soft petals under your fingertips. “you don’t have to use a vase,” you replied softly. “a mug will do.” gilbert stood motionless in the middle of the kitchen, and you maneuvered around him, carefully filling up the pottery with water and placing the flowers in it.

he seemed rooted to the floor, even when he focused his gaze on the posy. your glance met his, and the sorrow was evident. gilbert hadn’t cried at the funeral- you’d never seen him cry. but now tears were brimming at the corners of his soft chocolate eyes, threatening to spill over, and in a moment your body overtook your mind and you had wrapped your arms around gilbert in a hug.

for a moment you regretted it. but then he was hugging you back, clutching your arms, holding onto you as if you were his lifeline. and in a way, you were. you could feel his hot breath on the back of your neck, hear his muffled cries. due to his height, your face was nestled in the crook of gilbert’s neck, and the two of you stayed like that, intertwined, for several long moments.

when gilbert finally pulled away, he knew that for better or for worse, you would be there for him until the day he died.

three. when you exchanged christmas presents in the snow.

to be honest, you hadn’t expected gilbert to come back from the steamer, or trinidad. you’d kept in close correspondence with him, saving the letters he sent you in a special drawer in your writing desk. you memorized his handwriting- the candid tone recalling his tales- the stamps on the envelope. but it still came as a surprise when he’d arrived back.

everything had been awkward at the start, but as soon as gilbert told you all the tales of his travels, you’d slowly slipped back into your old dynamic. there was still a line the both of you were toeing, trying to test out the boundaries between platonic and whatever the two of you were. when you’d met bash, he’d given you a quick wink and told you he’d heard all about you, but other than that, you were positive gilbert just wanted to stay friends. “he can’t love me,” you’d told the avonlea girls a few days prior. “the letters didn’t mean anything, he was just lonely.” but all of them agreed, even ruby- who had been zoning in on moody spurgeon ever since gilbert had left- that there was something more in his words, that it wasn’t all in your head.

and now it was christmas. gilbert, bash, and the shirley-cuthberts had all come for dinner (you’d grown close to anne the past year, and it had taken some convincing but since your father knew matthew so well, marilla had deemed it acceptable). the dinner had been lovely- your mother had brought out all the stops for gilbert and bash- roast goose, scalloped potatoes (island ones, of course), cranberry jelly, chicken pie, spiced gingerbread. flames crackled in the fireplace, biting gusts of wind rattled the windows, and blurred glittery ornaments adorned the pine tree in the center of your living room. dinner was over now, and the adults were gathered around the table and swapping stories of old. anne was there too, heavily engaged in a discussion with bash, but the social aspect was getting to be somewhat exhausting, so you quietly slipped out the back door to have a few moments alone.

in a rather unladylike fashion, you got up and sat on the fence by your house, snowflakes tickling your nose, watching the sun slowly begin to set. hues of pink and orange tinged the sky, and you were surprised you could even see it right now- the weather suggested a cloudy sky. the sound of snow crunching came from behind you, and to your surprise, gilbert was coming towards you. he had his brown cap and his red flannel on, and he looked so cozy that you somehow wished you were cuddled up in his arms. pushing the thought away, you greeted him as he came to sit on the fence beside you.

“enjoying the night so far?”

“quite,” gilbert replied. there was a sparkle in his eyes that danced, one that had been noticeably absent since his father died. you suspected it had something to do with bash’s uncle-like presence, and maybe anne’s too- it was well rumored that he’d fancied her for a while when they’d first met. gilbert looked off into the sunset, puffs of his breath materializing in the cold air, and you shivered involuntarily. he offered you his wool mittens wordlessly, and you gratefully put them on, although they were too big for you.

“oh,” you said, remembering something. he turned towards you, watching you intently as you pulled out a small package from your coat pocket. it was wrapped in festive paper, and you’d written his name on it in swooping calligraphy.

“for me?” gilbert asked. he carefully unfurled the wrapping paper to reveal a small leather bound book embossed with “the complete illustrated medical dictionary (pocket edition)” on the front. “i’ve had it since you left,” you said, breath catching in your throat. “i kept it for you. all this time.”

genuine joy shone in gilbert’s eyes. he flipped through the pages delightedly, marveling at the drawings inside. “thank you,” he grinned. “i actually have something for you too.”

breathlessly, you awaited your gift, snowflakes fluttering down and landing on you. they decorated your hair and its festive ribbon for one fleeting moment before melting, and you swore there was nothing as beautiful as this moment, exchanging gifts with gilbert in the snow, watching the sunset sweep across the dove-gray sky. finally, gilbert found what he was looking for in his pocket, and produced a tiny box.

“it doesn’t look like much,” he warned, “but i found it on my travels. i was waiting to give it to you. i wanted it to be the perfect moment.”

carefully opening the small box, you gasped as the lid revealed a necklace with a pendant. a small silver locket shaped like a heart, the kind one could put a photograph in. “gilbert,” you breathed. “this is- this is beautiful.”

and it was. the locket lay on a delicate chain, and it was engraved intricately, with elaborate designs. your mittened hands fumbled to take it out of the box and inspect it more, but gilbert took it from you with a small smile. “let me help you,” he murmured, and made to fasten it on you. you stood still, hyper aware of how close gilbert’s hands were to your face. his fingers brushed against the back of your neck, securing the necklace, and you caught yourself from flinching. you didn’t know what to say, except for thank you, so you repeated yourself again.

“a thing of beauty is a joy forever,” gilbert quoted, somewhat uncharacteristically. “keats,” he added after a moment, referencing the poet he’d read the phrase from. “i wanted you to have something to remember me by.”

“to remember you by?” you laughed. “what, are you going on the steamer again?”

he could tell the thought sobered you, so he shook his head, shrugging. “no. i just think…you’re a wonderful girl. the loveliest in avonlea.”

“i think you’re wonderful too,” you said shyly, which was about as many words as you could manage right now. the loveliest girl in avonlea? goodness.

the sun had almost set by now, and the sky was turning dark- a good cover for hiding the red tint spreading across your face. “we should go back inside,” you said hurriedly, and the two of you made your way over to the door. you stopped before opening it, basking in the glow of the oil lamp on the porch.

“gilbert, i-”

overcome by sudden anxiety, you handed back his warm mittens. “thank you,” you said, the words lingering on your tongue. “for everything.”

quickly, so fast you almost missed it, gilbert leaned down, brushed a stray wisp of hair away, and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “merry christmas,” he said simply. and then, the two of you went back inside, as if nothing had happened at all.

as soon as you entered, bash noticed the locket and smirked. gilbert shot him a warning look, lest he say anything. the two of you immersed yourself in separate conversations- you with anne, him with marilla and your mother, while matthew silently observed your father and bash discuss politics. but you kept stealing glances at each other as if you were speaking a secret language that only the two of you knew, and each time it filled you with comfort.

it was a cold christmas, but you felt the warmest you had been in a while– and, as luck would have it, so did gilbert.

four. when you climbed a tree.

and so summer rolled around again, fading into august. university loomed on the horizon. childhood was over- gone were the days of butterflies, bumblebees, and scraped knees. yet you could pretend, and so you did.

the soft salt breeze tickled your face, sending a pleasant feeling down your spine. you were with gilbert- on his farm, in the orchard. it was just the two of you- most of avonlea were in charlottetown for the island county fair, granting you the opportunity to do whatever you wanted, since no one was around to see.

so you took advantage of that. no more were the stolen glances, the sneaking around, your only physical touch with gilbert being brushed hands- and even then you’d both deemed it risky. neither of you wanted word to get around yet. sure, there had been rumors and some of your best friends knew (only the ones you were sure wouldn’t spread anything around). but here, now, the world was your oyster. and the two of you soaked it up blissfully.

you were lying on the grass with your head in gilbert’s lap, weaving a flower crown as he read a book- an old poetry collection ms stacy had lent him. the clouds were glorious fluffy shapes in the blue sky, and you pointed them out to gilbert every once in a while. your fingers deftly twined the daisies and their stems, finally tying them all together in a knot, creating a perfect circlet, and setting it teasingly on gilbert’s dark hair.

he smirked, leaving it on. “made it for me?”

“a pretty crown for a pretty boy,” you replied, smiling from your position in his lap. he was solid, sturdy, his hand resting securely on your waist. you felt safe with your body close to his, arms and legs intertwined. and he was pretty- “the prettiest boy in avonlea,” you said, mimicking his words to you from last christmas. he laughed and set the book down, taking the flower crown off and resting it gently on your hair. “it suits you,” gilbert said softly, and he was right.

the two of you stayed like that for a while, absorbing each other’s presence. you charted the rare freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose as if they were constellations, tracing them with the tip of your finger. it tickled him, and he smiled down at you. he finally returned to his book- “i want to read you something”- and blissfully, you obliged, settling down to listen.

“i almost wish we were butterflies and lived but three summer days- three such days with you i could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain,” gilbert read from the poetry collection in his lap, a break from the constant medical anatomy books he was usually seen carrying around. you recognized the fragment of poetry- “keats,” you said, “just like what you said to me last winter. when you gave me the necklace.”

a smile tugged at gilbert’s lips, and you pulled out the locket from under the neckline of your dress to show him. “i’ll never take it off,” you promised him, right then and there. “it’s like a little piece of you with me, all the time.”

“you better not,” he teased. “cost me a fortune, that one. even more than all of those romance books i’m always secretly buying you in town.”

you sat up and shoved him jokingly, tousling his dark curls to purposely peeve him. gilbert’s hair wasn’t tidy all that often, but he’d let it slip once that he always tried to make it look nice for you. struck by a sudden flash of inspiration, you jumped up. “let’s go pick some apples.”

the blythe orchard was infamous for their strawberry apples, the only place in avonlea where they were available. contrary to popular belief, this was simply a variant of apple, and not a strawberry hybrid. all too happy to appease you, gilbert took your hand and led you to the best tree on the land. most of the other boughs were still blooming with apple blossoms, but this tree was different.

he pointed to a low-hanging branch, one blessed with red fruit. “my father always picked the first apple on this tree in august,” he told you, tone contemplative and wistful. “he said this was the tree he kissed my mother under for the first time. he thought if the first apple of the season was picked here, at this tree, it brought the harvest luck.”

nostalgia flickered in gilbert’s eyes, and you knew he was missing his father more than usual. “let’s do it, then,” you said, finding your voice, fingers delicately intertwined with his- giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “we’ll each pick one. in honor of him. a new tradition.”

the words you’d spoken may have been simplistic, but to gilbert they meant the world. without his father, it had been so incredibly difficult at first to do anything- carry on old traditions, much less creating new ones. but here you were, by his side, looking up at him with adoring eyes, and giving him the opportunity to heal and grow. gilbert knew he could never put into words how much it truly meant to him.

you let him go first, watching him scamper up the tree like a squirrel. he seemed a boy again, plucking an apple from the highest bough and descending nimbly. when you started climbing, you found your footing easily, but doubt wracked your mind- imagine the horrors if mrs. lynde and her posse heard about this, climbing trees like a chimpanzee! - and so you opted for a lower branch, reaching it deftly. you reached for an apple and held it high victoriously. some hint of pride shone in gilbert’s eyes.

“to making new traditions,” he said- a toast with the notable absence of glasses brimming with champagne. “to making new traditions,” you repeated, and in that moment, you in the tree and him on the ground, you swore you could see hints of a future- one with new traditions and old traditions, little feet running around and everything in between. today was flawless.

and it would’ve been perfect, except for the sound of the branch cracking under your weight. you weren’t too high up in the tree, but inevitably, you landed on the ground, a crumpled heap of petticoats and ribbons, crying out softly upon impact.

you’d never seen gilbert this way, in ‘doctor mode’, simply put. he was immediately beside you, voice laced with concern, checking you over for scrapes and bruises. you were fine, mostly- just a little shaken up and scared, save for the red-hot throbbing in your wrist. the pain didn’t exactly warrant crying, but you weren’t used to the funny feeling, and tears welled in your waterline anyways. gilbert, telling you to take deep breaths, helped you sit up.

he’d noticed straightaway the way you held you wrist, cradling it slightly away from your body, and murmuring words of comfort, he started prodding your knuckles, gently examining the swollen area. you winced, but it wasn’t too bad. “i don’t think it’s broken,” gilbert said finally, deeming it a sprain after careful inspection. “but let’s get you back home. i have some bandages- i’ll wrap it just in case.”

tears threatened to spill over again as the two of you walked from the orchard to his home. gilbert noticed, and stopped. “hey,” he said softly. “it’s okay. i’ll make you some herbal tea. that should help with the pain a bit.”

“it’s not that,” you made out, a small pout forming on your lips. “we were having such a wonderful day, gil, and i ruined it all. i’m sorry.”

“whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said, his brow furrowing. “you didn’t ruin anything. you got hurt, it happens. and we have the rest of the afternoon to be together- i’ll tell you what, how about once we get back to the farmhouse, we’ll make the most of it, okay? we can still have some fun.”

a wobbly smile formed on your lips, and you nodded. gilbert cupped your face gently, and looked into your eyes. “i love you,” he said, voice nervous but firm. “just let me take care of you.”

your heart caught in your throat. he’d never said that before. contrary to the rumors, he hadn’t even kissed you properly yet. “i love you too,” you whispered, voice hoarse. and before you could think about it too much, you went up on your tiptoes and pressed a small kiss to gilbert’s lips.

they were soft and sweet and filled with promise and hope, and he leaned into it, your bodies closer than they’d ever been. his hands ghosted the small of your back, your hips, your shoulders, and it felt like home. when you finally pulled apart, there was a twinkle in his eye you’d never seen before. a twinkle of something called joy.

when you got back to the farmhouse, he finally settled you on the couch, comfortably sipping a cup of tea and trying wholeheartedly to braid your hair. he’d always wanted to learn, and since you were currently unable to do it yourself, he deemed it the perfect opportunity. it made you laugh- his fingers, usually nimble and clever, were clumsy in your locks, and the braid you ended up with was slightly sloppy, but filled with adoration. a realization fluttered through your mind, and set its claws into your future. you loved gilbert- gilbert loved you- and though you wouldn’t say it out loud, at least not for several years, he would make a wonderful husband.

five. when you said “i do”.

the spring skies were blue today- flowers were blooming- grass was green. “a lovely day for a wedding,” mrs. lynde had told marilla that morning, and all of avonlea agreed.

you were walking down the aisle in a few minutes, getting ready in reverence. a delicate white veil lay on your hair, the one passed down through your family for almost a century. the lace dress fit you perfectly, intricate embroidery accentuating your waist. your mother’s simple pearl earrings adorned your ears, glowing in the morning light. in your hands were a bouquet- a single spray of forget-me-nots, periwinkle blue, an ode to gilbert’s father, who had loved them so. and at the same time, a tribute to your past together, that awful rainy day after the funeral filled with grief and tears and emotion, yet what had brought you closer together. something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. all was well. you were ready.

the springtime realm of gilbert’s yard was immersed in devotion. petals decorated the grass down the aisle. your dearest friends and family observed, and the wedding itself passed in the blink of an eye. there was not a dry eye during the vows, and gilbert’s words were even more poetic than you had ever hoped. he promised to love you- to care for you- in sickness and in health, to be your rock. it was not the fanciest wedding- there were no messes of tulle and satin and roses- but it was yours, and you couldn’t be happier.

you were husband and wife. the dawn had come anew. and that night, when gilbert fell asleep watching you breathe, finding solace in the rise and fall of your chest, he knew without a doubt that he would do it all over again.

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permanentswaps · 7 days

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Rings in Rio

Marcelo’s POV:

Under the scorching sun of Rio de Janeiro, I found myself captivated by the pulsating energy of the city. My husband Valentin and I had been dreaming of this vacation for months, longing to escape Brasilia and just hang out by the beach.

As we walked along the ocean, the gentle breeze carried the scent of salt and sunscreen. I held Valentin's hand tight, savoring the warmth of his touch against my skin. I couldn't help but feel thankful to be sharing this moment with someone as amazing as him.

You see, I came out later in life – about a decade ago – when I was in my 40s. It hadn't been an easy journey. But meeting Valentin changed everything. We first crossed paths about five years ago – he was a vibrant 27-year-old then. I still remember the day we met like it was yesterday. I was attending a gallery opening, feeling out of place among the younger crowd, when our eyes met across the room.

Valentin approached me with a smile that lit up his face, his confidence and charm drawing me in immediately. We struck up a conversation that flowed effortlessly, as if we had known each other for years. He was unlike anyone I had ever met – bold, unapologetically himself, and utterly captivating. And from that moment on, we were inseparable.

I'll never forget the day he proposed to me, his eyes shining with excitement as he got down on one knee against the backdrop of a rushing river.

His confidence was magnetic, a trait I wished I possessed. We exchanged vows two years ago, surrounded by friends and family who celebrated our love with us.

But despite the happiness we shared, there were moments when envy crept in. Seeing Valentin so carefree and liberated reminded me of the youth I never had, the years spent hiding my true self from the world. But even in those moments of insecurity, Valentin's love was a constant source of comfort.

As we walked along the beach, we stumbled upon a run down ring kiosk. Intrigued by the display of colorful trinkets, Valentin tugged at my hand excitedly.

"Look at how cool these are, babe," he said, his eyes lighting up. I couldn't help but chuckle at his enthusiasm.

"Ah, you have a nice eye," the shopkeeper remarked, his gaze lingering on the rings in Valentin's outstretched hand. "These ones are actually quite special – they're enchanted."

Valentin's eyes sparkled with excitement as he turned to me. "Did you hear that, Marcelo? Enchanted rings! How cool is that?"

I raised an eyebrow skeptically, exchanging a glance with Valentin. "Enchanted, huh? What kind of enchantment?" I asked.

The shopkeeper chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Well, you see, these rings have the power to grant the wearer's deepest desires," he explained, his voice low and mysterious. "They can bring love, luck, and even transformation."

Valentin's grin widened, his fingers tracing the intricate patterns etched into the surface of the rings. "That sounds incredible," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "What do you think, Marcelo? Should we get a pair?"

And as I watched him try on one of the rings, the metal glinting in the sunlight, I couldn't help but think about how hot they looked on him.

I hesitated for a moment, but as I looked into Valentin's eyes, I felt a surge of warmth wash over me. "Why not?" I said with a smile, reaching out to take his hand. "It could be fun."

After paying for the rings, the shopkeeper handed us a small book which he said explained the rings’ power.

---

Later that night, back in the comfort of our hotel room, we eagerly opened the small book the shopkeeper had given us. Its weathered pages revealed ancient symbols and cryptic instructions, which seemed more like a page out of a fantasy novel than anything grounded in reality.

"It says here that if we trade the rings – which we've been wearing all day – it will swap us into the other's body," Valentin exclaimed, his eyes alight with excitement as he scanned the text.

I couldn't help but arch an eyebrow skeptically. The idea seemed far-fetched, to say the least. But the thought of slipping into Valentin's skin, of experiencing life from his perspective, was undeniably enticing.

"Wait, we should totally try this, babe," he urged, his enthusiasm infectious.

I hesitated, unsure of what to make of it all. "I don't know, Valentin," I replied, trying to downplay my own excitement. "It's probably just some silly myth."

But Valentin was undeterred. With a confident smirk, he reached for the rings, his fingers brushing against mine. As we exchanged them, a strange sensation washed over me, like a surge of electricity pulsing through my veins.

Before I could react, I felt myself being pulled, as if my very soul was being forced out of my body and into his. The world spun around me, colors swirling into a dizzying blur, until finally, everything came to a halt.

As I blinked away the disorientation, I found myself staring at my old body – now inhabited by Valentin's spirit. My heart fluttered with a mixture of excitement and trepidation, unsure of what this newfound experience would bring.

But amidst the confusion, there was something else stirring within me – a primal, raw desire that I couldn't ignore. Seeing my old body through Valentin's eyes, I couldn't help but feel a surge of attraction towards it. The familiar contours and features that I had grown accustomed to suddenly seemed incredibly alluring.

Valentin, on the other hand, wasted no time in admiring his new form. He approached the mirror with a confident stride, his movements fluid and graceful. As he stood before the mirror, I watched him subtly flex his muscles, the faint ripple of strength beneath his skin, and run his fingers along his jawline, his touch gentle yet possessive.

With a nod towards the door, he turned to me. "Well Valentin, what do you say we go hit the town?" he suggested, his eyes twinkling with anticipation.

---

Valentin’s POV:

As Marcelo and I strolled along the sun-drenched beaches of Rio, his hand tightly clasped in mine, I was overcome with gratitude for the man by my side. Marcelo wasn't just my husband; he was my anchor, my sanctuary amidst life's tumultuous waves.

We first met five years ago, an encounter that forever changed my life for the better. Marcelo's presence was like a beacon of warmth and wisdom. Despite the age gap between us, he welcomed me into his heart with a kindness and understanding I had never felt before.

Marcelo often complained about his age, lamenting the passing years and the toll they took on his body. But to me, he was perfect. With his salt-and-pepper hair and chiseled features, he had a timeless charm that I found irresistible. Marcelo took impeccable care of his body, maintaining a level of fitness and vitality that men half his age would envy.

However, while Marcelo exuded a quiet strength and maturity that commanded respect, beneath the surface lay a well of insecurities and doubts. There were moments when his gaze lingered on younger men, a wistful longing flickering in his eyes. When that happened, all I wanted to do was infuse him with the confidence and self-assurance he truly deserved.

That's why when we stumbled upon the rings, I was so happy. The prospect of swapping bodies with Marcelo, even temporarily, could give him the chance to see himself like I saw him – strong, resilient, and sexy as hell.

Exchanging the rings, I couldn't suppress a thrill of excitement. Marcelo's body certainly didn't disappoint; his rugged features and well-defined muscles radiated an undeniable magnetism that was impossible to ignore. I couldn't help but admire the way my new face looked in the mirror, the sharp contours and strong jawline making even Marcelo in my body flustered.

---

We made the decision to remain swapped for the duration of our vacation, and I must admit, I was thoroughly enjoying the experience.

The change in people’s perception was undeniable. While I had always been accustomed to the occasional flirtatious glance and admiring looks when I inhabited my former body – I'll admit, I was quite the catch – the response now was on a whole other level.

Hotel concierges greeted me with deference and respect, always calling me sir. And waitstaff at restaurants fell over themselves to attend to my every need, no doubt aware that I was the one who would be footing the bill.

The intimacy we shared that week was also nothing short of extraordinary. Marcelo's enthusiasm and skill in the bedroom were unmatched, and he was an expert in pleasuring his former body, leaving me breathless and craving more.

He had always been a power bottom, and even in my former body, he wanted to keep it that way. Railing my former body, I was consumed by arousal, the sensation of my cock buried deep within him sending waves of pleasure radiating through every fiber of my being.

But it wasn't just the physical pleasure that fueled my desire; it was the profound sense of control and dominance that I felt, commanding Marcelo's massive body with an authority that bordered on exhilarating.

---

Two nights before our departure, with the gentle glow of moonlight casting a soft sheen over our hotel room, I found myself poring over the pages of the book once more. My fingers traced the intricate patterns etched into the pages, searching for answers, for a solution.

And then, there it was – nestled within the text like a hidden gem waiting to be discovered:

"After transformation, should one be without the rings during the climax of sexual intercourse, the transformation shall be forever sealed."

I glanced over at Marcelo, sleeping peacefully beside me, his features softened in the gentle glow of moonlight. He looked so content, so at peace in my body, unaware of the decision that weighed heavily on my mind. And yet, as I gazed upon him, a sense of clarity washed over me. I reached out and gently brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, before leaning over and kissing it, saying “I love you”.

As I put the book down, a surge of determination swept through me. This was it – my chance to make our swap permanent.

---

Marcelo’s POV:

Laying in bed on our last night in Rio, the cool breeze from the open windows danced across my skin, carrying with it the scent of the sea. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness at the thought of leaving this vibrant city behind. But at the same time, I couldn't deny that I had enjoyed every moment of our vacation, relishing the opportunity to experience life from Valentin's perspective.

Being in Valentin's body had been nothing short of exhilarating. I felt a newfound sense of youthfulness coursing through my veins, an energy and vitality that I hadn't experienced in years. And the sex – well, let's just say it was beyond amazing. Valentin knew exactly how to work my body, his confidence and expertise leaving me breathless and wanting more.

But amidst the excitement and the pleasure, a question that had been gnawing at the back of my mind. A few days ago, I stumbled upon a passage in the book that would seal me in this body forever. I hadn't told Valentin about it, but the temptation to make our swap permanent was undeniable. It wasn’t fair, but the thought of returning to my old body – to the limitations and insecurities that came with it – filled me with dread.

---

Fiddling with the ring between my fingers, I carefully placed it in the bedside drawer. Just then, the bathroom door swung open, and Valentin emerged, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm halo around him. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he padded towards the bed, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Hey there, handsome," he purred, his voice sending a shiver down my spine. As he slipped under the covers beside me, I couldn't help but marvel at the effortless charm and confidence that radiated from him. I smiled in response, my heart fluttering at the sight of him.

Pressing me down onto the bed and entwining his fingers with mine, Valentin’s strength and dominance overwhelmed me. With each thrust, I lost myself in the raw intensity of our connection. But amidst the haze of pleasure, a realization dawned upon me – Valentin wasn't wearing his ring either.

The revelation sent a jolt of electricity coursing through my veins. Could it be possible he wanted this too? Valentin's lips found their way to my neck, planting tender kisses along my skin. "I love this body so much," he murmured against my skin, his breath warm against my neck. "I don't think I can ever go back."

My heart swelled with a mixture of love and desire, knowing that he cherished my body as much as I cherished his. Smiling softly, I ran my bare hands down his back. "I took off the ring too, babe," I whispered. "I want your body now and forever."

A playful smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he met my gaze, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. Without a word, he quickened the pace, driving us both to the brink of ecstasy once more.

As the intensity of our passion peaked, I surrendered myself fully to the moment, losing myself in the raw, unbridled pleasure. With a primal roar, he released his load into me, our souls locking in our new bodies.

Basking in the afterglow, I felt a profound sense of fulfillment wash over me. With Valentin's strong hand tracing lazy patterns across my bare chest, I couldn't help but smile, knowing that this, right here, was all I could have ever asked for.

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where-dreamers-go · 9 months

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"Summertime" Leon S Kennedy x Reader -- Part One

(A/N: A Lifeguard AU where the only umbrella is for the blocking sun’s rays and rain.

Isn’t this pretty random of you, Erica? Well, yes, but I had decided to rewatch Aquamarine during Mermay and WHAM—idea! I actually haven’t finished rewatching the movie because of Leon.

Warnings: Mentions of a minor scrape on the skin.

Word Count: 1,350 words)

~~~

Every summer for the past few years was spent at the same beach club. The same comfortable atmosphere, friendly owner’s of the beach club, and water-loving regulars. Not to forget the salty air, good food, and a lifeguard that you would trust with your life.

Thankfully.

The bonus? The lifeguard was gorgeous. Not to forget smart and caring. People either ignored him, gave him side-eyes, or swooned at the mere sway of his shiny hair. Some considered him a popular attraction. So serious with his job, however with an interesting sense of humor. If you ever got it out of him. That was Leon Kennedy.

Your friend laughed no matter how funny Leon’s jokes were. They were definitely a fan.

Stepping onto the hot sand, you spotted your friend’s beach umbrella.

You sighed.

Of course they would, you thought.

They had planted the umbrella a few paces away from the Lifeguard tower. Directly in Leon’s line of sight.

You readjusted the tote bag on your shoulder. Calm breaths came easier as long as you kept moving to your destination. If you needed to say anything, you’d keep it short. A simple ‘hi’ went a long way.

You got this. Just walk.

As you entered Leon’s peripheral vision, he turned his head in your direction.

No one and no thing escaped his attention.

“Hey.” Leon gave a small wave from his seat.

“Hey,” you replied automatically. “How’s the weather up there?”

“Sunny and partly cloudy.”

“Nice.”

Movement stole your attention away from the man. Your friend was making quick hand gestures from underneath the umbrella.

What?

Resisting the urge to reach inside your tote and toss a water bottle at them, you simply made your way to the towels.

“Are you dehydrated already?” You asked.

“No.” Your friend leaned close. “Did you see his smile? He totally smiled at you.”

Slipping out of your shoes, you sat down.

“You saw it, didn’t you?”

“I was a little distracted by my choice in small talk.” You shrugged off your bag. “I hate small talk. It’s uncomfortable and weird. Not the good weird.”

“He could be still looking at you from behind those sunglasses.” They hummed mischievously and rummaged through the tote bag.

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “Don’t put thoughts in my head.”

“He does have a good view.”

You scoffed, covering your laugh. “You’re adding to those thoughts—not the fun ones. Ones where I’m too aware of what I’m doing and how I look.” You grabbed a bottle of water. “I came to enjoy the scenery.”

“Didn’t we all?” They wiggled their eyebrows before tearing into a bag of snacks.

* *

Passing time by indulging in your curiosities had you by the shoreline. Soft warm bubbles of the water tickled your skin with each wave.

I have to get up earlier for this, you thought. Or wait until low tide.

You were looking for small treasures in the sand. Shark teeth, unique shells, shiny rocks, and the like. Usually you always brought the shells back to the water. That was still your plan.

But plans could be sidelined.

Pain erupted on your shoulder with such a force you fell over.

“Ah.”

Crap.

A volleyball bounced across the shore.

Seriously? You thought and looked down. Right on the shells. Of course.

“I’m sorry!” A tanned beachgoer apologized as their friend went after the ball.

“Yeah. Uh. It was an accident.” You brushed off your hands, treasures scattered the ground.

They nodded and walked off awkwardly.

Movement off to the side caught your attention.

Leon had ran over quickly, the sunlight accentuating his defined arms.

“Hey, are you hurt?” He asked, kneeling down.

“I’m fine.”

You stood up and his gazed dropped to your knees.

“That’s not my definition of fine.”

You cringed.

There were scrapes on your knee. Thankfully, not both of them. Some how.

“Come on, let’s go take care of that,” Leon said softly.

He walked you back to your towel to sit before he jogged to the lifeguard tower and fetched the first aid kit.

“He’s in action,” your friend cheered from close by.

You waved them off.

Chill. He has ears you know, you thought. Not that your friend could hear you.

“Does it hurt anywhere?” He questioned and opened the kit as he approached.

“Just stings.”

“Alright.” He knelt beside you. “I’ll just need to clean it up to prevent any infections, okay?”

“Okay.”

You were surprised you could hear Leon clearly over the beating of your heart.

How different and alarmingly surprising did your day turn out? It went from your friend teasing to collecting small shark teeth to Leon treating your knee?

What was the universe trying to tell you?

“There.” Leon had finished putting a bandage on your knee. “May I check your shoulder? You took quite a hit.”

“Yeah.” You took a peek at it. “It’s gonna be sore later.”

“Probably.” He poked, prodded, and checked your arm’s mobility.

Just breathe. He’s checking you’re fine, you thought. And is really gentle. Very close.

“Any pain?”

“Nope. Just a little tender.”

Leon nodded.

“Well, putting some ice on it will ease any discomfort. If it’s more than sore tomorrow, come and let me know.”

“Okay.” You smiled. “Thank you.”

“No problem. Just watch out for flying objects.” He then added, “If I’m going to spend time with you, I’d rather you not be hurt.”

Your eyes widened.

With a wide half-smile, Leon stood up. He left the first aid kit by the tower before he went off towards the people playing volleyball.

A high-pitched squeal from your friend sealed the memory in your brain forever.

* *

Meanwhile, back in the room. All was excited and communicated.

What else was there to do when getting refreshed? Definitely talking about Leon Kennedy, at least.

“The volleyball of destiny brought him to you,” your friend exclaimed from in front of the mirror.

“Volleyball of destiny?” You repeated, leaning against the wall. “If it’s from destiny, why is it choosing now and not the other summers we’ve been here?”

“Don’t question destiny. Just say, ‘thank you’ and go with it.”

“Thank you, destiny…for not knocking me out.”

You kept in your laugh.

“I think you mean: thank you for blessing me with the closeness of Leon Kennedy.”

“Yes, thank you.” You chuckled. “And thank you, universe, for Leon Kennedy.”

Your friend clapped dramatically.

“Finally! Something exciting’s happening.”

“Hey now,” you held up your hands. “I’m not going to be accident prone, okay? I’m an adult not a kid dodging sports at P.E. everyday.”

They turned around from the sink area.

“Look, just…at least talk to Leon more. Real sentences.”

“I’ll do my best—at being me. No promises on…no fake sentences?”

“Alright, fine. Let’s go. I’m ready for more!” They announced and lead the way out of the room.

Remaining in the air conditioning or finding shade was a well-tuned skill. Something needed around noon.

You and your friend were grabbing a bite to eat inside for lunch. Enjoying the air conditioning full-heartedly.

Thankfully, you both arrived fast enough from your room to get a table. The beach club could get pretty busy.

The two of you were absorbing the atmosphere in silence as others moved about the large room with chatter. Chairs skidding across the flooring. Kids cried for their lost fries. It was definitely summertime.

Glancing around, your eyes spotted Leon. Relaxed and tall, Leon.

In a blink of an eye, he caught your gaze.

The second you were about to avert all eye contact—he smiled.

Turning away with a smile of your own, you awaited your friend’s commentary. The wait wasn’t long. They seemed to see everything.

“If you two keep smiling at each other like that, I’m going to revert to writing fanfiction.”

“What?”

“The past two summers,” they explained, “I really thought one of you would make a move. I’m invested and impatient.”

“Chill. I’m not gonna implode without him.”

“The universe said differently today. Wait until tomorrow.”

You blinked. “That was ominous.”

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful.

coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

Leon Scott Kennedy Tags: @

**Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.**

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil leon #leon kennedy #leon kennedy lifeguard au #lifeguard! leon s kennedy #lifeguard au #where dreamers go

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helloheyhihowdyheya · 1 year

Text

Home in Time

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x gn!reader

Masterlist

Summary: Bradley comes home early on the first snowfall of the year.

Word count: ~1.5k

Warnings: Some suggestiveness, tiny bit of language. Lots of fluff

A/N: Thank you for being patient with me during Nanowrimo. Glad to have this written and finished finally as just a little blurb. Hope I did Rooster’s character right. I love this soft boy. Thank you as always for reading, and I’d love to hear your thoughts!

The air stood still under cascades of snowflakes running across the white landscape of your driveway. The sky moved in one mass, covered by a layer of clouds. You were bundled up in a warm coat, boots, hat and all for the first real snowfall of the year — just to make the journey out to go grocery shopping. You didn’t mind the weather and its cold softness, though you did spend a bit longer near the hot food section in the store than necessary before coming back home.

You’d gotten used to the slowly growing chill and wind of the fall days, often appreciative of the noise to fill your empty house. Bradley had been gone on a mission for months now, much longer than others as of late. You missed his warmth as autumn drifted into winter, wishing he was here to watch the fluffy flakes fall through the sky.

You barely heard much about his mission during late-night calls with him. Though it was top secret, you were certain he would’ve slipped a detail here or there on accident if you got him flustered enough.

But both of you preferred talking about other things in those times between dusk and dawn. You let him ask you about your day and talk about your frustrating coworker or recipe you couldn’t seem to get just right, knowing it would help take his mind off things he didn’t want to think about. And you asked him about the good parts of his days, mostly consisting of the beach and the other pilots.

Your mind went to him now as it usually did, even while pushing the car door closed with your hip. You walked to the door, your arms full of all the groceries, refusing to take another trip in this chill.

As the garage door creaked shut, your feet slipping off your boots with teetering steps, your ears picked up more sound than just your own movements filling the air. In those brief seconds, the noise felt almost foreign, yet nostalgic at the same time.

An old, familiar rock song floated toward you, the sound of metal clanging, bubbling, and soft humming joining the mix. Your face broke into an ear-splitting smile as you tried setting the bags down in the gentlest way while every muscle vibrated, screaming at you to run forward. Once free of the groceries, your legs moved quickly, slipping across the floor in your long socks, around the corner, and into the kitchen.

Your eyes blinked a few times, not quite believing the sight in front of you. In front of the stove stood Bradley, clad in a thick sweater. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed in front of his wide chest, next to a large pot.

The second he opened up his arms, you ran toward him, crashing your body against his. Your fingers hooked around each other at his back. Your muscles began to shake from squeezing so hard, but they relished in the weight of his hands around you. A heavy sigh escaped your mouth, your head pressing into him and shutting your eyes.

In a laughing sigh, Bradley said, “God, I missed you, honey.” He pulled back, bringing his hands up to your face. His fingers brushed against your hat, sending melting snowflakes to the ground.

Your gaze connected with his, the tiny bit of sunlight available drifting in from the kitchen window making his eyes bright, his face soft. His hands came to your jaw, thumbs brushing against your cheekbones. You had so many questions and things to say as tears threatened to spill, but as he leaned forward, none of it mattered as much. Not when his lips pressed against yours, his body radiating heat onto you in rolling waves.

Pulling away, he pressed his forehead against yours. You could feel slight stubble along his cheek, though refused to look away even as the tears pricked at the edges of your eyes.

“When did you get back?” you whispered, afraid saying anything too loud would break this dream in front of you.

“An hour ago,” he breathed out, the air passing down your skin. “Got to go home early and wanted to surprise you.”

You giggled against him, a smile spreading across your face.“Well you certainly achieved that, Rooster,” you said, giving him a fake salute.

Your laughing only increased as he rolled his eyes. “I can’t say I missed your humor, sweetheart. And I got enough of Rooster out west, so none of that from you too. Or else,” he said. But at your teasing expression, eyebrow raised high, he brought a hand down to slap your ass.

His only response to your yelp was his smile turning to a smirk before speaking again. “Now, I wanted to surprise you with dinner, but I ran out of broth, so you might be the only one having it,” he told you, reaching a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck.

Thought you immediately missed his warmth, you walked backward with a small grin. A few seconds later, you brought a box of broth from your groceries, throwing it to Bradley.

He caught it easily, his face much brighter than before. “You know me so well.”

Laughing, you said, “And I didn’t even know you were coming.”

“Oh, no, that’s for later,” he told you, giving you a wink before turning back to dinner. You removed your coat and hat, tossing them somewhere to be remembered when less important things were happening.

As he added the broth and sprinkled in various spices, you came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso and pressing your face into his back.

Setting the spoon aside, Bradley let it simmer, turning around and wrapping his arms back around you. For a few minutes, the two of you just stood there, rocking back and forth as he hummed along to whatever song it had changed to.

Then, wrapping one of his hands along your hip and the other engulfing yours, he pulled back with that soft smile. He moved both of your bodies in a slow dance around the kitchen, keeping his chest close to yours the entire time, as if an inch between you would be too much.

He spun you out in a dramatic twirl, bringing you back in and dropping you into a dip, making a contagious smile break out across your face and giggles bubble up out of your mouth. He pulled you back to him, your bodies only a breath apart, when you whispered, “I see you haven’t lost your touch, lover boy.”

He began to say some sort of cheesy line about the only thing he lost was your touch on his… but you pressed your mouth against him, a smile on your lips. His face felt so warm as your palms cupped his cheeks, your hands never wanting to leave him in case he’d disappear again. They still stayed once the timer went off, a whimper barely registering in the back of your throat at the loss as he pulled back.

You moved to his arms, feeling the muscle under his flannel while he finished the soup. He made no comment or sign of annoyance to your holding as he ladled the soup into bowls, only a content look on his face. The two of you moved together to the table, one hand entwined with his the entire time while the other held the spoon.

You let out a groan after tasting, muttering, “Bradley, you come home early and cook me delicious soup? How did I get so lucky?” With a grin, your words hinted at joking, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be too sarcastic at a statement so true.

His thumb rubbed back and forth along the backs of your fingers. “I made the soup because I’m so lucky. Tryin’ to keep you here, ‘cause I have no idea how I got you in the first place,” he said, his mustache curving up with his smile.

Bringing your hand to his mouth, he kissed your knuckles one by one, resting his cheek on it and closing his eyes. They only opened once you whispered, the honeyed colors of his irises humming. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” he said, tilting his head. “Though I’d be more glad if you were on the couch picking out a movie while I made us hot chocolate.” Oh, he knew the way to your heart on this snowy day.

He laughed at the small gasp and beaming smile coming from you, grabbing both the bowls to set in the sink. Bradley could wash them later, but it wasn’t just any day he could watch the way you wrapped blankets around yourself while giggling, making him the happiest man alive.

You set up some movie you’d both seen a million times, though still loving the recite the best liens. It was funny, nostalgic, and brought a comfort you hadn’t quite felt in a bit, but most of your attention was on Bradley as you laid on his chest. You still laughed at all the right places and took sips of hot chocolate in between scenes. Yet, feeling his breaths rise and fall, his hand resting against your back, the snow drifting to the ground outside all felt more important than anything in that moment.

He was back. He was holding you. He was here.

@reidslovely

#my heart #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick #top gun #rooster top gun #rooster x reader #fluff

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aaaaafro · 1 year

Text

Taste - BOL4 - Jiyoung x M! Reader. (+18)

tw: exhibitionism?, public sex, beach sex, heavily unedited, not proofread (lol you know me)

Took a small inspiration from this song

I know it's not a twice fic but who cares my adhd didn't act up and was able to do this in one sitting and also stan BOL4 coz not only she's talented but also hot AF, nah but seriously you should check BOL4 out.

"Hot."

It's neither the weather nor the sand on your feet. It's your girlfriend as she finally returns from her stroll along the shoreline. Draped in a tight-fitting blue bikini you couldn't help but admire her curves in all the right places.

Her perfect chest down to her toned abs and legs, like you said curves in all the right places, even in her lips as she gives you that smirk or almost like a grin as she approached your cottage, you clapped finally having time to spend with one another.

"You could've joined me." She said in a disappointed tone.

"Yeah but it's too hot." Your response earned you an unimpressed snarl.

"Come here darling." There she goes using your weakness.

Since the two of you started dating Jiyoung had made it clear that she's not a big fan of PDAs but there's always room for endearments however this 'darling' call doesn't exactly translate to an endearment.

Especially whenever she uses it, the two of you always end up being spent for the rest of the night, but today's different considering you're currently outside.

Even though there's little to no people present in the vicinity, it's still risky yet here she is gliding her index finger on your forearm.

"Are you sure, darling?" As if the answer wasn't obvious she pounced on you like a lion taking both your legs in between hers.

Her face levels with yours as she removes her bucket hat revealing her semi-golden locks that shine under direct sunlight.

It was then you see a flushed expression from Jiyoung that you remember how you've always talked about your weird fantasies and she had always mentioned public sex.

So stupid for you to forget but now's not the time for regrets specially when her slim figure slides down in front of you.

Using your feet as cushions for her knees she levels her head to your pelvis. With a quick scout of the area you gave her a subtle nod but you can feel that even if there's actually someone that will see you there's no stopping her.

Quickly fishing out your rod she gave it a few strokes before licking the tip. Your head recoils upwards as her tongue did a number on your member, your toes are even curling at each licks.

All of a sudden you're on the verge of moaning as she took your now hardened length in her mouth, the tip hitting the back of her throat, your hand then rest on the back of her head giving it a push even deeper causing Jiyoung to gag as drips of her spit dampens your shorts.

You gave the area another scout only to see the waves of the ocean, the sway of the palm trees but no signs of danger. With that said your focus is now fixed on your girlfriend's bobbing head watching your length disappear in her mouth with the help of your hand pushing her down, you can feel your balls tightening with every insert.

Her eyes are currently tearing up from all of the choking she's going through but you know her very well. The two of you have shared the bed countless times and almost every time she always loves being roughed up.

So, rough it is. As you place your other hand to get a better handle on her head. Using your strength to push her head down even more her nose almost bending on your abdomen she gags but you didn't let go, instead letting her hold the position for almost half a minute before finally letting her breathe.

"A-ahhh f-fuck–[cough] darling. You taste amazing" Her protesting voice was in contrast with her face that's overwritten with lusts.

"Come here." You called finally letting her get up.

You can see a wet spot forming on her core as she's now the one scanning the area, though her eyes widened when she saw a couple of people from almost 5 cottages away from yours.

"Why didn't you tell me?!" She furiously asked delivering a stinging slap on your shoulder.

"Then I would've ruined the mood." You replied before pulling her towards you

Turning her around as her back is now facing you. You couldn't help but smile as you admire her beautiful backside.

A yelp from Jiyoung fails to alert the other group as you sat her down your lap nestling your length between her clothed buns.

You took a quick peek at the back only to see the other group was too busy with their own lives before giving a smug smile to Jiyoung.

Pulling her shorts aside reveals her glistening snatch, Jiyoung covers her mouth to somehow muffle her moans as you brush your head on her entrance lubing it up for a smoother entry knowing that her core has always been tight despite the countless intercourse you've had.

"Unnnghhh–.” A moan escapes her lips as she fails to cover her mouth.

You honestly couldn't help but admire your girlfriend's courage as she just starts bouncing on your cock not totally giving a single fuck if there's a group of people that can totally see the two of you doing this sinful act in public.

Her bounces gradually becoming more and more aggressive but thankfully leaving your clothes helps lessen the noise knowing that you'd be discovered if it was flesh to flesh.

"F–fuck darling!" An airy sound came from Jiyoung scared you as you look back to see that there's no sign of the other group noticing you.

However you're not going to let it go that easily, as you took the liberty of silencing Jiyoung. You're honestly near your limit either it's your girlfriend's tight snatch or just the added thrill of being caught.

You grab a hold of Jiyoung's neck and started to just go ballistic, pulling her aggressively down your rod. Feeling your balls tighten you let go of your hold on her neck and place both of your hands on her hips.

"D–darling." You called signalling your climax before unloading your seed in your girlfriend's core.

With Jiyoung's hot pant, you took a last glance towards the group and saw one of the giirls giving you a thumbs up. Jiyoung saw this as well as the two of you looks at each other before smiling.

"I love you darling." She then place a kiss on your cheek.

"I love you more darling." You replied.

The next thing you know she's reaching towards her freshly fucked core fishing for your seed. Getting a fingerful she took it in her mouth before giving you a wink.

"Tastes good... What'cha say we continue this in our room?" Without another word you swept Jiyoung off her sandy feet carrying her towards your suite.

#BOL4 #ahn ji young #Jiyoung smut #BOL4 SMUT #male reader

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godsofhumanity · 4 months

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I'm the anon who asked about Asgard & Vanaheim visuals, and I love the answer! I also want visuals about...Jotunheim, Alfheim, Svartalfheim/Nidavellir!

on it, boss 🫡👍

JOTUNHEIM

ok. Jotunheim is home to the jotuns (giants). we know a couple of famous jotuns: Gerdr (Freyr's wife), Þjazi (who attempts to get Idunn out of Asgard and make the gods start to age), and Skadi (Þjazi's daughter, Njord's wife).

from these, i feel the need to mention Gerdr and Skadi particularly, and they give us some clues about the kind of environment that Jotunheim is.

Gerdr is spotted looking lovely in her father's fields by Freyr. so, i imagine her in the sunlight, on a grassy knoll-- it's a nice, warm, sunshine-y day.

Skadi, on the other hand, is depicted as a kind of ice-warrior queen as she and Njord often argue about the weather- Njord being more of a beach boy himself and Skadi preferring colder weather.

so, what i think is this: Jotunheim experiences a harsh, icy winter, but a lovely, mild summer. it's never terribly hot. it's just like... autumn weather at the max.

i also think that it is particularly icy at the borders of Jotunheim, but as you go inwards, the ice sort-of recedes, and there's just a little bit of snow here and there, but there's plenty of grass as well.

i think the weather also reflects the type of giant-- the borders are home to the more vicious of the Jotuns, more peaceful Jotuns are inwards.

so like. at the borders, i think you get scenery more like this:

but more inwards, you get something like with a bit more snow:

Jotunheim feels like a very mountainous place. very rocky.

fashion is more like tunics inwards, but at the borders, it's furs and armor, and leather.

there isn't really anything like fancy jewellery... it's stone, and bones, and teeth, etc. it's all very makeshift. i don't see the Jotuns as a people caring too much for very shiny things like gems and diamonds and gold. they care for that stuff in as much as they can sell it to buy more valuable things like land and armor and weapons.

colour palette is something like this with a bit more blue perhaps.

ALFHEIM

since Alfheim is the home of the light elves, i think it ought to have a lot of water and glass and crystals to reflect off light such that the world is always bright and illuminated.

but where i wrote that Vanaheim was very "jewel-centric" and had a lot of gold and silver in-laid, i like the idea of Alfheim being a more "natural" Alfheim. so there's lots of white wood and natural spaces.

i think the Elves must live amongst the trees where light from both the Sun and the Moon stills seeps through the forest and illuminates it.

there would be a lot of structures like these, where the pillars are simply trunks of trees:

i think above ground, there are a lot of rivers like the image on the left, and lots of healthy, overgrown foliage. but beneath the ground, illumination might come from crystals like the image on the right:

the image on the left still is pretty dark, so try to imagine that with like. lighter colours.

as you can see, there isn't much diamonds and jewels, or even too much gold. it's mostly just natural.

the colour palette would be something like:

weather in Alfheim is cool, i think. it doesn't snow there, but it's not impossibly hot. it's just cool. you don't need furs, just long tunics.

also, search up "fantasy moon kingdom" for more ideas on Alfheim palaces :)

SVARTALFHEIM / NIDAVELLIR

home of the dark elves (aka dwarves).

okay, so i think realm is a mix of stone and forestry.

there would be a lot of mines since the dwarves are builders and i think they would need to be mining for their materials.

these mines would be dark, but there would be a few crystals and fires to light up the place here and there:

there might also be a village within the mine:

but there are dark elves who do live above the surface. and i think on top of the surface, there is a lot of forestry and maybe even some swamps:

i hate to be unoriginal, but honestly the way they did the Dwarven kingdom in the Hobbit was pretty freaking perfect to me-- i love the rock statues coming out of the mountain-face:

so yeah, lots of stone, and rock. but i also think a lot of metal, and a fair few gems and precious stones also!!

colour palette is obviously very green and brown:

weather i think can be very humid. it doesn't snow. but in the caves, it is very very cold. so i think there are a lot of cloaks for those underground, but also thinner tunics for those working above ground.

#oughh this wasn't as good as Asgard and Vanaheim but i hope you like :)#anon #anonymous #asks #hc

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yuriko-mukami · 10 months

Note

Fox on the Beach

Ruki had just finished spreading a blanket on the sand of the beach. Relaxed, he sat down on it and pulled the basket closer. First he unpacked a few books and placed them next to him. Then he grabbed the sunscreen and smiled at Yuriko.

"Have you put on sunscreen yet? You know how important protection from the sun is, right?"

The vampire became a bit more serious and muttered to himself.

"It is already unreasonable for you not to wear a sun hat. We really should have gone to buy one before."

Boring his blue-gray eyes into Yuriko's, Ruki hoped he had not ruined the good mood with his murmur now.

"I only mean well..."

Clearing his throat, he straightened up a bit and held the sunscreen in front of his wife's eyes. He gave her a loving smile.

"If you have not put on sunscreen yet, I would be happy to do it for you."

Fox on the Beach — RP Event

Yuriko stretched, gazing around the beach. There were so many people, much more than on their honeymoon… but of course, it was still daytime. Back then, they had visited the beach during the night.

The heat and light radiated from the sand, making Yuriko squint her eyes slightly. Even though the weather was a bit too hot for her liking, she was happy to be here. There hadn’t been too many opportunities to spend time like this, so normally without any worries over school or other things. The time for just the two of them.

Then, Ruki’s words reached Yuriko’s ears. She turned around, shading her eyes with her hand as she squirmed in place.

“...umh… I… well… I didn’t…” So rarely, Yuriko had been outside in the sunlight in the past almost year and a half, that some things simply slipped from her mind these days. “I… of course, I know. I just… forgot.”

Trying to smile, Yuriko gazed at her husband. She could hear what he was muttering. Yes, they had talked about the hat, but then there had been so many other things occupying Yuriko’s mind, and the hat, too, had been forgotten.

Ruki was swaying a sunscreen bottle. At least, that part was easy to fix.

Beaming, Yuriko scooted closer. “Yes, please, can you put it on me~? That… that would make me very happy.”

#fox on the beach event #ruki mukami #yuriko mukami #rukiko #interactions #godless verse #ruki mukami dl

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maddiem4-writes · 7 months

Text

Lime Slushie

I told y'all I'd write a sequel to that last piece, and yes, it's hornier. In fact, from a literary standpoint, I probably should have broken this into multiple chapters, but I didn't, because I wanted to keep my promise about this being the smut chapter. You're welcome :D

Place yourself in a verdant field, with the distant sounds of children climbing on a playground, a handful of ultimate frisbee players being a little too competitive about it, and the distant sounds of traffic, all seemingly muted by the quiet hum of life itself growing at its calm and everlasting pace. Time stretches on a day like this, but it never thins. There's shade under the trees, for those who want it. Vendors hawking various snacks. And in one particular patch of grass, bathed in sunlight...

A gnat buzzed in my ear, and I shooed it away lazily, drowsy in the sun. God, how I loved the sun. To think I'd ever seriously considered giving it up… the idea felt absurd to me now. The cheap beach towel under me, ratty as it objectively was, felt luxurious pressed between my tan skin and the freshly mowed lawn of La Vista Park. Late spring felt like my birthright, and I soaked it in with the casual entitlement of a queen.

There are certain emotions you eventually give yourself license to, when you get old enough to let go of the bullshit. Certain kinds of confidence, an unwillingness to live by anyone else's standards. My airbrushed purple bikini was starting to look a bit out of date these days, and my body wasn't perfectly trim like a magazine model - but nobody stealing glances at me seemed to be bothered, and neither was I. It wasn't so bad to look younger than I was. Let them look, and let them blush. I didn't mind.

I was laying there like a reptile when I heard him. Even still, there are moments where I think the footsteps are his - my eyes opened a little quicker than I would have liked. But it was just… some guy. Some guy who was clearly attempting to summon a lot of borrowed courage from any generous god or demon willing to oblige. I gave him something that bordered on a smirk. I leaned forward, and broke the ice directly.

"I don't bite, you know. Missed my window for it." I gave him a sweet smile, a generous tableau of canines and incisors.

He sputtered nervously, disposable paper cup shaking in his hand, and the straw shaking even harder. For a moment, anyways. He regained his composure well, and earned a tick more of my attention by doing so. Not just prey, this one. Interesting.

"I was wondering if, maybe, you'd like a slushie from the cart over there. The piña colada's really good. Like…", he struggled visibly with his words, "really really good."

I reached down and picked up a half-empty cup of my own. "Oh, I've got it covered." I took a sip of the bright green slush. "Lime flavor. That's pretty good too."

"Ooh!" he leaned down to examine it. "I didn't see that flavor on the sign."

I winked. "It's my favorite. Reminds me of home. Doesn't taste like actual limes though, it's the artificial, candy kind of lime. When it's sour enough, it makes your mouth water, so it's extra refreshing, you know?" I took another sip, drawing the cup back from his prying eyes, and savored the sensation washing over my tongue. "That's the good shit."

"I'll make a note of that. Especially since summer's just about here. Which… you're definitely dressed for." He blushed a little. Cutie.

"Who am I to argue with the weather? It's a hot day, I might as well dress for it. Life's too short - or, maybe too long - to worry what people think." I leaned forward a little, looked him in the eye. "If anything, I think they like it. If they allow themselves to admit it, that is."

He blushed even redder, but didn't look away. He looked me up and down, like he'd granted himself some permission to do so. "I… I'll admit it, yeah."

I held out my hand to shake. "That makes you more honest than most men I meet. And still polite, in a world where it seems like every guy is just one or the other. Congratulations on riding the line, Mr. ….?"

He seemed to shake out of a trance, a little bit. "Shaw!" He reached out with his slushie-holding hand, caught himself, swapped it to the other hand, and tried again with his now-icy right hand one more time. "Alan Shaw. Pleased to meet you."

I took his hand lightly, and shook. "Elizabeth. Just Elizabeth."

"You don't have a last name?"

"Oh, I do." I grinned at him. "I have it, and I love it, and I'm fiercely protective of it. That's why I keep it all to myself." I realized we'd stopped shaking, and I was still holding his hand. The gentle dappled shadow of the sugar maple leaves swayed over us and back again. He felt so alive, and I felt alive with him.

"Elizabeth, No Last Name Given. Alright." He seemed uncertain, but intrigued. "How about a phone number?"

I laughed. "Nothing in service. You got a phone, though?"

"Yes?"

"Good. Help me up." He lifted me to my feet by my hand. I was unsteady for a moment, I felt like I'd softened in the sunlight, all rubbery-legged. I shook it off, and held my other hand out. "Phone?"

He handed it to me hesitantly. "Who are you calling?"

I didn't look up at him, focusing on the screen. "Nobody. I need to check something, real quick, while I have the chance…" These days everyone's phone was pretty fancy and different from each other, which is not an ideal combination if you're always borrowing phones, but I figured out how to do a web search. I frowned.

He stared at me. "What?"

I shrugged. "Nothing."

He popped his head over before I could stop him. "Wait, what? You a sports fan?"

"Me? I couldn't care less. But my best friend is."

He scratched his head. "Eagles, huh? I don't exactly follow sports myself. I had no idea they were taking off this year. Your friend, are they from Philly?"

I handed back the phone, screen privacy now entirely pointless. "Originally."

He looked at the screen himself. "They must be real excited. A shot at winning the Super Bowl, huh? That's gotta be a huge deal for them."

I pursed my lips and stared off into space. "Couldn't be bigger, honestly."

He finally looked up. "Shit. Sorry. I feel like I just invaded something personal."

I held my arm and looked down. "A bit, yeah. But you can make it up to me."

He stuffed the phone in the pocket of his shorts. "Anything! You name it. I really didn't mean to step in your private life or anything like that."

I looked up a little, at the markings just visible at the edges of his sleeves. "Anything, huh?" My mind raced, and I answered recklessly. "Then take me home with you."

"…what?"

"Not tonight. Not some scheduled date night you'll never show up to. Take me home now, or nothing." I had to look like I wasn't concentrating. Beach towel. Lime slushie. Hold in position. It was no wonder to me now why I'd felt a magnetism to this man. The risk and the reward were both astronomical, and I was going to chance it. If I was very lucky, this Alan guy would think with his dick. If not…

"N- now?" Come on. "Literally right now?" Yes. Just say yes. "With me?" You're the one, pal.

I shrugged and started rolling up my towel, putting it under my arm. "It's a one-time offer. If you're not interested, that's fine…" I was cursing profusely in my head. "But I'm heading home either way. So better make up your mind fast. I'm a busy woman, not lacking in options."

I think I saw him sweating. The towel wasn't so hard to maintain while I was touching it. I gave him a few seconds to look me over, and picked a direction for "home" in case I needed to take the bluff further. I slurped down the rest of my slushie, and began walking to the nearby trash bin. "Last chance," I said, tossing the empty cup in.

He looked around, debating with himself. "Fuck it. My place isn't fancy, but it isn't far either. Come on." He wasn't even parked far away. Cheap little beige sedan. Perfect.

The buildings passed by out the window, familiar to me by now after a long residence. I watched them go by, then turned to smile at my driver, who was stealing glances at my body. I winked, pulled down my top briefly, and told him: "that's all you get until we get there. Don't crash."

He grinned and saluted me. "Yes, ma'am!" And then turned his attention to the road just in time to slam on the brakes for a red light. God, I couldn't wait to see him naked.

His apartment was a basement with outdoor steps. It smelled damp and earthy, with a bit of fresh grass poking through the mud of the "lawn" that had long since become a walkway to the concrete stairs. There's a musty smell that all basements have, that got stronger as we walked down, and while I didn't mind it, it made me very glad I hadn't died in a basement.

He fiddled with the keys, until they jangled the lock open, and he rushed inside. Good boy. I walked in, and couldn't help but grin. I'd come to the right place, and it was obvious by the… decor. The books left open, the posters with sharpie corrections. I shut the door quietly behind me.

He was frantically trying to clean the place at the last second, apologizing for the mess, and I put my hand on his shoulder. He looked up, and I guided him to standing face to face with me, my finger on his lips. "It's alright. I like the mess. Leave it be."

His breath caught. "Okay."

I leaned in and I kissed him, tongue snaking around his, exploring him. His hands, somewhere between the roughness of a gardener and the softness of a scholar, started tentatively at my hips, then up my torso along the sides, then touching my breasts. Every second he was more urgent, or confident, or both. I reveled in it.

He broke free to breathe. "You taste like lime," he said, almost second-guessing his senses.

"And you taste like piña colada." He had scruffy brown hair, a little too long and shaggy, and I brushed it away as I caressed his face. "You were right. It's really, really good."

He gasped, and worked his fingers under my bikini top, grasping and groping, massaging my nipples. I began to unbuckle his belt with my hands. I soon had it free, and I broke off from kissing him again, and got on my knees for him. I prayed a thank you for the knockoff Persian rug beneath us, softer than the concrete below it, and slid his shorts down.

He was already hard, and I hadn't even done my due diligence of stroking him through the fabric. I knew I'd make up for that in a moment. At least from the waist down, his body was on display for me, and I liked what I saw. He was thin, and his cock was an average length and girth, but his legs had some tone to them, and the scratches on them… yes. I gave him one last look, and I think I must have been adorable, looking him in the eyes as I slid my tongue from his scrotum, up the shaft, all the way to the tip. He shuddered and leaned back against the bookcase behind him as I slid my lips down the length of him. He was salty and delicious.

And by god did I make it worth his while, and mine. I felt him on my whole tongue every time I got all the way down to the base. Up, down, up, down, feeling his fingers entwine in my hair. Hearing his sweet moans. I stopped halfway down, and worked him with my tongue inside my mouth, and I felt him grab a shelf of the bookcase to avoid crumpling to the floor. Emboldened, I pursed my lips for stiffness, so he wouldn't feel my teeth, and I sucked hard, and began bobbing my head like that. I wouldn't have cared if I made him cum then and there. I was lost in it.

His grip tightened on my head, and I knew what was coming next. I reminded myself that the need to breathe was an illusion for me. I couldn't get deader, at least, not this way. Fellatio is always an act of service, but it can seamlessly switch back and forth who's in control, and that's the beauty of it. Alan took control, and started forcing my head down onto him, fucking my face in its pretty little hole. I let myself go limp, even gag. I let him have his way with me. I became an object for his desire. If I'd been alive, I might have stopped him, but by now I'd had some practice pushing my limits.

When he finally pulled me off of him, I had tears running down my face, and a river of spit running out of my mouth and down my chin, with little threads still connecting to the sloppy drench of saliva on his penis. And I was smiling. I was proud. I looked up at him, messy and beaming. My voice was a bit hoarse and wet as I told him: "You can fuck me now, if you want."

He wanted.

He picked me up, hands under my armpits, and threw me against the bed so that I tripped and fell backwards onto it. He towered over me, with that look in his eyes. Knowing he was doing something wrong, something I wanted, something he could barely admit to wanting himself. I should have known he'd be rough with me. He peeled his shirt off, and I gasped. He truly was exactly what I was looking for.

I untied my top and threw it off, and was working off my bikini bottom when he put his hand on my chest and pushed me flat down on the bed. It was only when I went limp for him again that he took the hand back off, and used both hands to slide my panties off of me. He caught me by surprise by burying his face in my pussy, and I put a hand over my mouth to catch my own scream as his tongue slid inside me. His nose was rubbing my clit, and I used my other hand to grip his cotton sheets - a few weeks overdue for washing, and rich with the smell of him - writhing as he tortured me with pleasure.

He just kept going deeper, and then he started using his fingers… he crooked them upwards, finding that spot on the roof, and he stroked along the ridges. He moved his mouth to suck gently on my clit while he fingerfucked me. My body felt like it was on fire, and I moaned loudly. I was helpless to him.

Time seemed to stretch, I don't know how long he did that to me, but it was heaven. But when he stopped, he wiped his face on his arm, like he'd just finished up at a drinking fountain. He scooted me back on the bed. I looked up at him, feeling almost dizzy, so hungry for him to be inside me. He teased my clit with his cock once…. twice…. and then slid all the way in.

He'd lulled me back into a false sense of security with that detour into oral. His lust was greedy and aggressive, and he fucked me like he was trying to fuck the life out of me. I stared up into his eyes, my own glassing over, my brain being rattled into a submissive haze. He held me by the shoulders and drilled himself into me over and over and over again. At one point, he grabbed one of my breasts and fondled it, but the other kept bouncing with the power of his thrusts.

His breathing became harder, more jagged. I tried to nod, but my head was already being shaken up and down too much for it to be noticeable. He was going to cum inside me, and I wanted that so bad. Not for any plan, or ulterior motive. Just for me. Just to feel him do it. He fucked me harder, faster, pushing himself. I felt overstimulated and beyond the reach of reality. He took me for his own. It felt like a flood inside my pussy. I wasn't surprised that he was pent-up, but jesus. It lubricated him further as he kept fucking me, until his muscles spasmed with the roll of the orgasm, and he collapsed onto me, his weight cementing me under him, his cock plugging me full of his seed and preventing a single drop from escaping.

The sudden ending set me off in another orgasm, and I wished I'd been counting, but I'd got lost in the whirlwind of it all. I shook under him, and wrapped my legs around him, holding him even tighter. As close as a person can be. The thought flitted briefly in my head that maybe, just maybe, I'd underestimated my own loneliness. I didn't allow that thought to stay long. I just held him inside me.

We stayed like that for a long time. Interlocked, intersected, whole in a way we couldn't have been individually. We rested like that. When he finally pulled out of me, I lost control of my muscles again for a moment, shivering with stimulation. He rolled over next to me, wrapped his arms around me, and held me from the side. I looked over at him.

He couldn't look me in the eye, even as he held tight to me for comfort. When he finally spoke up, he said, in a simple statement of fact: "they don't sell lime flavor at the cart."

I shook my head. "No." And after a pause: "You've been carving runes in your skin, haven't you?"

He sighed and nodded.

I smiled. "I can show you the memory if you like. And you tell me what you're up to. Just… get dressed first."

He sat up, looking out a thin and pale-blue window of his basement home. "You say that like we both haven't made some huge mistake."

I put my hand on his shoulder blade. It lived up to its name on a thin guy like him, angular and defined. "We haven't. Or at least, I don't think we have. I think we've laid the groundwork to a very mutually beneficial partnership."

"Oh yeah?" he said sarcastically, pulling on a pair of jeans that had been crumpled at the foot of the bed. "Not getting any results in the Ghost4Sorceror section of Craigslist?" But there was a bit of playfulness in the tone. That's how I really knew. Got 'em. I knew you couldn't say no.

"Don't be an ass, hear me out. You tell me your thing, I'll tell you mine. We help each other. Friends with extensive benefits, what's not to love?" My towel and bikini had disappeared… probably an hour ago. My concentration had been elsewhere. I stood up, closed my eyes, and remembered:

SUMMER DAY. AUGUST. LATE 80'S. I WAS WAITING IN LINE AT THE BANK. I WAS WEARING A-

I opened my eyes, dressed in a red skirt and frilly orange top. The outfit had made me feel like a marigold flower, and made enough of an impression that I could remember it clearly, down to the shiny black heels. I felt fresh and clean.

Alan blinked. "That's fucking spooky."

I shrugged. "I'm a spook. And, well, you did just fuck me."

He wrestled his way into an uncooperative graphic tee, boasting a faded and pockmarked Led Zeppelin logo. "True and true. And for the record, I have no problem with spookiness. Obviously. I'm just trying to figure out which kink I've gotten myself into - interspecies, or necrophilia."

I waggled my finger in front of him. "Nuh-uh. Monsterfucker."

He stared at the ceiling in thought. "I can live with being a monsterfucker. Ah, crap, shoes…."

I laughed and offered my hand. "Don't need 'em! But… hold on.'"

He stared at me warily. "Why? Is it like, I'm gonna fall down the vortex of space and time, or fly across the city, or…"

I grabbed his hand. "No, dumbass, it just doesn't work if you let go." I closed my eyes and called up the same memory I had hours ago, when I was settling in at the park this morning.

JULY 4, 1982. SYRACUSE, NEW YORK. I WAS ELEVEN YEARS OLD AND MY DAD TOOK ME TO-

#maddiem4 #writing #elizabeth maroney

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kanayatherainbowdrinker · 9 months

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for that ask game: kanaya maryam (obviously) and jake english <3

grimAuxiliatrix [GA] began trolling diamondringsandGutterbones [DG] GA: The Closest Green Item To Me Well Id State My Blood But I Suppose Thats Not An Item GA: ... GA: Either My Black Razer Kraken Kitty Headset With Jade And Teal Coloring For The Lights My Ornate Flowery Bedding With Hummingbirds An Evergreen Tree Or Jade Dress GA: Because Youre So Cool Ill Answer The Other One For Me About My Most Loved Articles Of Clothing GA: My Favorite Hat Is A Sangria Bowler Hat With A Gold Stemmed Rose With Black Petals And Jade Peacock Feathers Attached GA: My Newly Acquired Green Tinted Prescription Glasses Quite Similar To Toastiedrawz Depiction Of Me GA: My Favorite Mask Has Evergreen Trees GA: My Favorite Eyepatch Has A Null Symbol On It GA: My Favorite Jacket A White Blazer GA: My Favorite Bra Teal Laced Geometrics GA: My Favorite Swim Top Teal Mermaid GA: My Favorite Collar Is Teal Trimmed Jade Leather With Black Spikes And Heart Lock GA: My Favorite Wings Are Galaxy Butterfly With Deep Purples GA: My Favorite Gloves Three Quarter Arm Neon Red Latex GA: My Favorite Top Is Ivory Turtle Neck Crop Top With Bosom Window GA: My Favorite Dress Low V Cut Deep Shimmery Jade With Full Back Zipper But Huge Back Windows From Back Of Shoulders To Top Of Hips And Short Hemmed GA: My Favorite Skirt Geometric Design Blood Red Ankle Length With Pockets Just Missing The Pearls To Be Identical To My Usual Skirt GA: My Favorite Heels Are Hot Pink Six Inchers With Toe And Ankle Strap Only GA: My Favorite Socks Are My Thigh High Jade And Teal Tentacle Socks On Purple Background GA: I Only Own One Merfolk Tail But Its An Orange Similar To Tiger Moths With Plum Purple Tips GA: ... GA: I Simply Love Fashion No One Asks About It So This Was Lovely Getting A Chance To Share Some Of My Ostentatious And Extravagant Pieces GA: ... GA: Okay Lets Describe My Greatest Adventure GA: Two Birthdays Ago I Visited The Pacific Ocean For The First Time In My Life GA: A Solo Camping Trip At An Official Park I Stayed In A Cabin For Two Nights Exploring There For Three Days GA: It Was Halloween Weekend Exceptionally Moderate And Clear Weather GA: Freshest Air Ive Ever Experienced Before GA: So Much Sunlight GA: Plenty Of Mushrooms Pretty Scraggly Trees GA: Exceptionally Windy Beach Flat As Could Be Gorgeous Dunes To Walk Over A Deafening Silence GA: The First Night I Was Overcome By Horror Terrors As Per Usual GA: I Walked To The Beach At Four In The Morning Feeling Smaller Than Ive Ever Felt Beneath The Expansive Clear Night Sky Waves Sparkling Like Silver Realizing Im Safe Alone Exploring This Universe Understanding It Gave Existence To Something As Small As Me So I Can Simply Enjoy It Because I Matter To Myself And It Was The First Time In My Life I Felt Whole GA: Made Myself Good Food Successfully Made My First Campfire By Myself The Second Night Set Up Halloween Decorations Swam In The Pacific And Listened To The Birds And Breeze And Waves Soaking Up The Sun And Being Content With Existing Gaining A Hope To Share That With Someone Someday grimAuxiliatrix [GA] ceased trolling diamondringsandGutterbones [DG]

#A Pyre For My Auspicious Passion #Kanaya Maryam #When I Consider Vriskas Cerulean Blood #Sylph Soars On Wings Of Moth #A Certain Madness Im Afflicted By #I Feel As Though This Conversation Has Utterly Outmaneuvered My Constructive Involvement #Rainbow Drinkers And Flora Basking Beneath The Blistering Alternian Sun As One #Mcfussyfangs Zeal For Designing Fanciful Fabrics

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catgirlforkaeya · 2 years

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beachy day

kaeya x gn!reader

synopsis: your boyfriend surprises you with a trip to your favorite beach, how do you two spend the first day?

word count: 887

fluff (LOTS of fluff) + modern au

warnings: all lowercase + not proofread + very teeny tiny suggestive part

a/n: i am finally at the beach whebajaha :D i go here almost every year for my birthday (the 19th) and my little gnat brain was like “what would it be like of kaeya was here 🤔” and then i went on a whole writing spree— hope you guys enjoy!!!! if you want pls send more beach vacation with kaeya headcanons into my inbox i crave them

• kaeya would set up the whole vacation as a surprise for you. you’d been feeling stressed lately and he saw how much pressure you’ve been under so him being the amazing boyfriend that he is decided to plan a trip to your favorite beach :((

• he refused to tell you about where you were going, but you quickly caught on when you noticed the direction you two were headed towards

• literally fought tooth and nail to get a nice room for you two. ocean view, luxurious king sized bed, fancy tub and shower big enough for the two of you, you name it he somehow got it

• you had no words when you walked into the hotel room and saw all of the stuff your boyfriend managed to get. all you could do was throw your arms around him while whispering small thank yous

• the next morning when you woke up it honestly felt like a dream. the mattress felt like you two were sleeping on a cloud, kaeya’s arms around you feeling like warm rays of sun on your skin

• you two went to all of your favorite attractions in the beach town, each special place would spark a memory between you two

• your personal favorite places was the christmas shop and a seafood restaurant

• kaeya’s favorite places changed often, but he loves the ice cream shop that you two went on one of your anniversaries

• after your little adventure around the town you two decided it was time to actually go to the beach

• kaeya insists that you let him put sunscreen on you, even though you’re perfectly capable of doing it yourself. he doesn’t want your gorgeous body that he loves oh so much to get damaged!

• you also put some sunscreen on him, carefully moving your hands over his body whilst quietly admiring the faint scars

• once you actually get down on the beach you two decide to just relax in the sand for a little bit. the weather wasn’t too awfully hot today so sitting under an umbrella in the shade would be nice

• finally when everything was set up, you laid down next to kaeya on the towels you two had set down. he snuck an arm around your waist, pulling you a bit closer. you ended up resting your head in his chest as you two just sat there in silence enjoying the time together

the sounds of waves crashing and seagulls screeching were the only sounds you could hear right now. you’d tuned everything else out, only focusing on kaeya. the slow rise and fall of his chest was slowly making you sleepy, but you’d hate to fall asleep on a beach.

you shifted your gaze, looking up at your boyfriend. he had one arm behind his head, eyes resting with a peaceful expression on his face. he looked absolutely heavenly right now. he always looks good but just something about him right now— you couldn’t tell if it was the way small drops of sunlight shone through the umbrella and reflected off of his sepia colored skin, or it it was the way his blue locks spread out into the sun and contrasted against the pale sand. he was gorgeous.

“kaeya?” you spoke softly, not sure if he was actually asleep or not.

he slowly opened his eyes, looking down at you with a hum. “yes love?”

“thank you for this trip,” you began, a small smile coming onto your face, “i really needed a break and wasn’t expecting to get one this year due to work— so thank you. just spending some time with you is enough of a vacation for me.”

a wide grin grew on kaeya’s face as you talked to him, his dimples barely being visible. hearing you say all of that made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. just knowing that he was able to make you escape from life for a little bit was an accomplishment.

“you don’t need to thank me hun,” he gently brushed your hair out of your face, playing with a few loose strands. “i simply noticed the love of my life was struggling so i decided to help out. seeing you happy is my top priority.”

your heart melted at his words. you couldn’t even form a response, so you just placed a gentle kiss to his lips. if you two weren’t in public right now he’d probably deepen the kiss, pull you to straddle him so he could show how massive his love for you is. he could always do that once you got back to the hotel room though.

“i love you so much,” kaeya whispered gently in between kisses.

“i love you more,” you responded, pulling away from the kiss for some air.

“not possible,” he smiled once again, placing a small boop on your nose, causing you to let out a faint giggle that only he could hear.

“now—“ kaeya began, adjusting so that he was leaning back onto his elbows. “wanna hit the water? those waves are the perfect height for surfing and i’d love to finally teach you~”

your eyes lit up with joy— you’d been wanting to learn how to surf for ages. kaeya has always offered to teach you but it’s never the right conditions for surfing.

“i’d love to.”

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opalimagines · 2 years

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Request: Since there seems to be demand for Shade smut, can you do 🏠 with Shade? Maybe the reader convinces Shade to spend the day in the sun, which is not his ideal weather, so he convinces the reader to some fun times (😏) when they get home to recover

Character: Richard Swift (The Shade)

Requested by anonymous

Reader: Neutral

Warning: smut-ish (all foreplay basically), MINORS DNI

🏠 Recovering together after a day in the sun

It was always such a wonderful feeling to step into the shower after a long day at the beach. You could finally wash off the salt and sand and crawl into bed to get some sleep. Even just lying out on the beach could be exhausting due to the sun, yet you were still grateful that Richard had taken you on a day trip away from Civic City. He hadn't expected you to ask to go to the beach, but he obliged anyway, even though he was not one who enjoyed the sand and sunlight.

As the water soaked your body, you felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around your middle, and lips pressing to the curve of your shoulder. You jumped slightly, not having the sound of the shower curtain as a warning. Damn Richard's ability to materialize out of thin air and his love of surprising you. Still, you couldn't resist leaning back into his bare chest.

"It's only me, my love," he said, a bit muffled by the kisses he left on his way along your shoulder.

"Mm, hello there." Your eyes shut and you tilted your head to give him full access to you.

Finally, Richard was kissing your neck, lingering on the sensitive spots he knew so well. His hands wandered your wet skin, fingertips grazing along your chest and stomach, making you shiver even in the hot water. "I've been thinking of this all day," he whispered, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

You reached back to thread your fingers in his hair and let out a soft sigh. "Why didn't you say something?"

His attention was on your neck once again, and he let his right hand go lower on your belly, teasing you as his left hand rolled your nipple. "You were enjoying yourself. I had no intention of interrupting that."

A slightly louder noise escaped when he gave the little nub a gentle tug. You needed more, but you knew he wasn't going to go where you wanted him quite yet. He wanted to have his fun first, to make you needier before he traveled below your waist. "Yes, I was enjoying myself, but I would've had no problem coming right back home with you."

His nose grazed the line of your jaw, his low voice making you ache even more. "No matter. We're here now..."

You turned in his embrace and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him on the lips. His hands moved to your ass and pulled you closer, allowing you to feel his desire even more clearly than before. And you desired him too, to feel him inside of you like you had so many times.

Richard smirked, reaching out and grabbing your body wash. "Now, why don't we get you all cleaned up?"

#richard swift imagine #richard swift x reader #dc comics imagine #dc imagine #dc x reader #stargirl imagine #stargirl x reader #my fics**#summer

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lustastarte · 1 year

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♠of love and sex | giomis♠

genre: smut

mista convinces don giorno to take a vacation

published: 2020

written by request

Knock knock.

"Yes?" The blonde received no answer. "Come i-"

"Mr. Giovanna~," a sculpted man sang, suddenly behind Giorno.

"Mista. For the last fucking time. I can and will put a bullet between your eyes if you don't stop doing that every time you feel the need to talk to me."

The brunette mocked him. "No you won't. I'm the only one that runs your errands without mistakes."

Giorno sighed, rubbing his thumb and index finger just above his brow, moving them apart, extending his hand before rubbing it over his forehead and loosely tied up hair. "What do you even want?"

"I feel like you could use a break," the older began massaging his counterpart's shoulders.

The blonde scoffed, taking a long sip of his hot, dark beverage. "A break? I run the mafia, Guido. If I take a break, this whole thing crumbles. Besides, I can't go anywhere without my body guard, and I don't want to overwork anyone."

Mista tilted his head, a puzzled look spreading across his face and shining out of his eyes. "Giorno. I am a 24/7 body guard. I live with you as your full time body guard."

"... You live with me because we're engaged, you absolute deadshit."

Mista giggled, running his hand through Giorno's hair. He strolled over, thick wooden soles clicking on the pristine marble floor and sat down on the younger man's desk.

"Come onnn," the older whined. "You need a break... Please? Just for like three days."

Giorno stayed silent, thinking about the problems that would arise from him leaving for just a few hours, not to mention days.

"Fine," he answered defeatedly after a full five minutes of sitting silently, ignoring Mista's eyes.

Giorno's golden blonde hair whipped behind him as he basked in the sunlight and cool breeze generated by the speed of Mista's stolen convertible. Taking a deep breath, he surveyed his surroundings. The beach seemed to go on for miles, salty waves kissing the sand, driftwood and seaweed docked just above the tide as decoration. Directly across the highway stood a rickety, wooden, top-heavy dock house, a weather-beaten, mini cabin of pure, disintegrating mid-eighteenth century raised up on bowed, waterlogged, rotting supports for the purpose of enabling elderly ladies in tea dresses and floppy hats with ribbons to sit out on good afternoons to watch the sailboats tutting along the horizon at their work - a setting rendered completely imagined and unreal by the thick, suffocating saline air surrounding the coast. Waves repetitively crashed over the warm, sunbaked sand, spreading it's webbed foam like the edge of a nightgown. The costal wind blew in bitter gusts, temporarily sending chills down the blonde's neck. The salty, fishy air lay heavily on his tongue and aggressively filled his nostrils. A golden comforter outlining the shimmering, tropical teal sea, creating a picture perfect image. The large, blazing sun was perched high in the sky, shining like Elijah's fiery chariot to heaven. The sun beat down on the calm ocean as another, chilly gust of wind forced itself past Giorno. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the faint taste of salt on the breeze that was complimented by the godly, ambrosial aroma of the flowers growing around the rolling dunes of sand.

The seaside cottage has mortar walls like cold set oatmeal, painted canary yellow with window frames of birch and shutters of grey. Inside is the gentle whirr of the overhead ceiling fan, chairs relaxed in the sunlight outside. The old windows are mullioned, overlooking the garden of flowers and towering palm trees. The rickety little building hunkered low on the coastal moor like a child in a heated round of hide-and-seek trying to keep from being caught. The cottage looked as if it was straight out of a fairytale with a happy ending or a picture book for little kids. It was rusty, old, and quite dusty from the outside, but rather welcoming inside. The whole house was made of birch and mortar. A tiny stove, two small wooden chairs, a circular table, a full sized bed, and that was it. Quaint and calming. Succulents, tropical flowers, and so much more flora. A wrought iron gate with paint chipping and flaking off was the door to the property, leading onto a narrow sandy path with small shells and pebbles. There was a tiny tide pool with barnacles, starfish, urchins, sand crabs, tropical fish, anemone, algae, seagrass, and a few seagulls. The dune grass was green and yellow, scorched and toasted by the sun in the balmy Italian summers.

"See? Are you happy you took this break now?" Mista opened the door to the cottage, breathing in a briny mix of cypress, blood lily, hibiscus, and African violet. He dropped their luggage on the creaky birch floor, sending a cloud of sand into the air.

"Not yet. It's pretty, but I kind of have a really important job to do."

"Awww, Gio-Gio, come on," Mista whined, pulling the other man into his chest. "You know you like it here~"

The blonde's face began to heat up, but he tried to keep a poker face. Mista connected their lips softly, smirking as he ran his hands down Giorno's sides. Giorno shuttered, leaning into Mista's chest. What was this feeling? He felt as though he needed to throw up, but instead of stomach acid, he wanted to throw up his entire heart. Heat pooled in his abdomen.

He was all logic, feigned, cool detachment until Mista touched his skin. Then, something primitive, something carnal not only stirred in him, but completely took over his thinking. The rest of the dull, drab world became an unimportant blur that was quickly banished into the far, compartmentalized recesses of his subconscious mind. The only thing that mattered to him was being touched even more by Mista, kissing his slightly chapped lips, surrounded by scratchy stubble, feeling his large, warm hands on his stomach, trailing to his legs. Mista tried to be gentle with Giorno's clothing, not having the slightest desire to replace a $10,000 suit, but it was so hard. Giorno tried to keep his breathing steady, but soon began panting, not quite sure if out of nervousness or arousal.

With the front door closed and locked, every former falsification falls. The façade the mob boss and his guard show the world instantaneously melts away and all Mista wants is to fuck every drop of life out of Giorno. Every kiss he gives has a raw intensity as he glides his tongue down the blonde's body - Giorno's breathing fast, but his heart rate's much faster. Before they know how it happened, the two are naked, skin moving softly and desperately together, like the finest of Mulberry silk. Giorno groans as he feels Mista's hand enter from below, one finger moving against his most sensitive parts, their tongues entwined in an aggressively passionate kiss. Then Mista has three fingers inside, changing Giorno's heavy, desperate breathing with every thrust, taking pleasure in hearing his moans, which were so perfectly timed to his body. All at once, he stops and kisses from Giorno's neck to his stomach, his greedy hands light; then, he's licking and using his fingers all at once, watching the blonde's reaction, feeling and laughing at how his spindly legs move, watching his body writhe with each brush against the deepest parts of him.

"I'm gonna make you beg for this, you know that?"

Giorno whined in response, unable to form anything intelligible.

In seconds, he's on Giorno again, fucking him hard, just long enough to intoxicate his mind before stopping completely.

"Please- Please- Guido, I-"

"You what?" Mista smirked at the blonde, tugging on his hair as he pushes just his head in. Giorno cried out in misery, needing to feel his fiancé inside him. "Hmm?"

"I need you! I need you to- to fuck me sen-senseless! Please," he wailed, never before having this feeling.

That was all it took for Mista to give in, holding nothing back as he slammed into the blonde. Mista's hands pinned Giorno to the bed, hair coming undone and toes curled. He left every part of the younger man untouched and as quick as the two started screaming, crying out for one another in the heat of the moment, it was over. Giorno arched his back, almost drooling out of pure pleasure, and Mista pounded into him, biting his neck and squeezing the headboard with one hand. The blonde screamed out, digging his short, manicured nails into the older man's tan back. Mista's thrusts slowed and he gently kissed Giorno's soft lips.

"Oh- Oh my god..."

"Was that a good first time?"

"I- Honestly, I think it's the best," Giorno giggled, panting and still shaking from pleasure.

"Happy you took the vacation now?"

"Oh, definitely."

#giomis #giorno x mista #jjba #jjba fanfic #fanfiction #smut

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