aries: hiking up the Shenandoah mountains, shopping for the scariest halloween costume, sunflowers taurus: homecoming, dark eyeshadows, hayrides gemini: baking, sweaters, family dinners cancer: cooking thanksgiving supper, family photos, leggings with hoodies leo: vintage horror flicks, pumpkin picking, driving along country roads while the leaves are changing virgo: buying cute school supplies, windy days, combat boots libra: peacoats, college tours, starbucks scorpio: poetry, halloween candy, fireplaces sagittarius: carving jack-o-lanterns, long roadtrips to see family for holidays, darker nude lipstick capricorn: black friday shopping, braided hair, back to school aquarius: pumpkin spice, hoodies, trick-or-treating pisces: apple pie, crispy leaves, new tv show premiers sun/moon/venus + sorry if you don’t like your signs stuff
Description: Your CEO caught your attention the first day you started your new job and it seems the attraction is mutual. Too bad he’s only interested in a relationship that benefits him.
Pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Jungkook
Genre: Angst and Smut
Word Count: 23,243
A/N: Eternal thanks to my number one cheerleader and motivator, @avveh, for constantly rooting for me even when I felt like banging my head on the keyboard. Not to mention for beta reading this monster. For anyone who can’t read this on the tumblr app I suggest checking out the AO3 link or opening it on a browser/computer.
// harry and y/n take a pink bath together after a long day
Some things never fall out of routine. For example, the world never stops turning, the clocks never stop ticking, and Harry never runs out of pink baths to treat Y/N and himself with. The porcelain tub has been filled with two fizzing bath bombs, releasing the smell of a thousand roses to complement the pink hued petals Harry picked up at the store. The flicker of a few candles provide the little light needed for harry and Y/N’s evening. He finishes lighting the last one when y/n peers her head into the bathroom. A small smile rests on her face, feeling joy in her heart, and Harry’s lips on hers. He tastes like the strawberry champagne he bought earlier and Y/N thinks it’s delightful. Harry shrugs off Y/N’s tan peacoat that she wears almost everyday in the winter months. Her blouse is shed immediately after the heavy wool of her coat meets the floor. The mesh of their lips don’t waiver despite the challenges it brings to ridding themselves of their remaining clothes. Luckily, Harry had on a button down that Y/N so easily undid for him. Harry draws his lips away slowly, still brushing his bottom lip with Y/N’s. “Bath’s ready,” he mumbles. He leads Y/N to the bath, their fingertips loosely locked together. “Got some petals to put in here as well,” he informs her.
Y/N nods, slowly dipping herself into the water that has cooled just enough to make the heat tolerable. “They’re lovely, H,” she whispers. Harry hands her a glass of champagne before getting in himself. He rests his back at the opposite end of the tub, adoring Y/N as she puts her hair up in a bun so it doesn’t get all soapy. “Where did you get them from?”
“Farmer’s market,” Harry answers. “Had some real pretty daisies, too. Left those in the kitchen fo’ yeh.” He reaches a hand out for Y/N to take. Gracefully, she’s pulled to his side of the tub, her back against his chest and his arms resting over her tummy. He places a gentle kiss to her temple as she rests her arms over Harry’s, finding his hands once again hold in her own. Her fingers slot themselves in between his. The water settles from all the movement but the softest waves continue to reach up the sides, the petals floating in different directions, feeling free from the stems that once held them together.
Bathtime is always very mellow for the two of them. Words seem unnecessary, too much of an effort to mutter out when the two of them talk to strangers for a living. The soft hum of their favorite bathtime playlist and the low crackle of the wood wicks from their candles are just enough. Occasionally, Harry would tell Y/N everything she already knows like how beautiful she is or how much Harry loves her. He doesn’t mind when she doesn’t say it back because he knows how sleepy she gets while taking a bath, and when Y/N’s sleepy, words take too much energy. She just nods and kisses Harry wherever she can. She mostly kisses his collarbone or the swallows that she loves so much.
The only thing determining when it’s time to get out is when the water gets too cold and their fingers and toes resemble the raisins in the trail mix Y/N buys from Costco. Harry and Y/N live very hectic lives, often feeling like everything around them moves faster than the speed of light. it’s hard to keep up with the demands of their jobs, however it’s easy to forget the small moments that make them feel like time is on their side.
Pink water twirls down the drain, leaving the wilted petals at the bottom of the tub. Harry and Y/N have already made their way to bed, her head rising and falling on Harry’s chest as he breathes. “Ever think about what life would be like if we never met?” Y/N ponders a 1 A.M. thought.
Harry shakes his head even though Y/N can’t see his action. “No, too painful to imagine what it would be like without you.” His fingers are in their usual spot, combing through Y/N’s ridiculously soft hair. Her brows crease at Harry’s answer, she pushes her weight on him to sit up. He follows suit, leaning his weight on an elbow. “What?” He chuckles curiously, gingerly tucking strands of Y/N’s hair behind her ear. Y/N shakes her head, not sure of what to say. She always seems to come up with these existential like questions after midnight. “Do you not know how important you are to me?”
Y/N shakes her head again, “No, no of course I do. I just wonder what-”
“Hey,” Harry stops her. He kisses her lips sweetly, his nose brushing her cheek before he pulls away. “I need you like the moon needs the sun. The moon doesn’t shine if weren’t for the sun and I wouldn’t be able to do half the things I’m doing if it weren’t for you.” Y/N closes her eyes when she feels Harry’s lips on hers. “Love you, so much,” he mumbles. He lays them back down, Y/N in Harry’s arms, where she belongs. He’s strong and warm and never hold on too tightly, fearing he’ll suffocate her. Y/N wouldn’t mind, though. She’s been drowning in his love for so long, not being able to breathe from his contact wouldn’t be so bad. Sleeping without contact feels weird, anyways. It’s lonely. Especially since Harry and Y/N spend so much time apart. Sharing the bed isn’t enough. Having a king mattress is a waste, they’d be perfectly fine in a twin. Harry sets one last kiss on Y/N’s temple before letting his head drop to the pillow. Little hums vibrate against his lips as he sends him and Y/N off to a much needed slumber.
Okay guys. Here goes. I’m going to try to remember and describe as much of the experience as possible, so you can all feel a little piece of it too. This is your warning… this is going to be a long post.
Disclaimer: this review is going to be very little about the play, and very lots about how mindblowingly gorgeous and excellent Tom was in the play. If you’re not in this to hear a dissertation on that man’s thighs in his tight-ass jeans, don’t read further. I love and deeply appreciate theatre (this is the 14th play I’ve seen since moving to London 10 months ago), but this is tumblr and I’m not really here to be a theatre critic or to dissect various interpretations of Shakespeare. I’m here to drool over sexy men. It’s right there in the title.
So, to get that boring, non-thigh-centred discussion out of the way first - the play was seriously great. I enjoyed it hugely, even apart from the magic of Tom’s Hamlet (and somehow in spite of the distraction that was my brain screaming “HE’S RIGHT THERE!!!” for 3 hours straight). I saw a similarly intimate staging of Hamlet back in January, which I found… overly intense. This one was much better. I especially liked the touches of humour throughout, which helped to break up the heavier moments and moved the story along in a nice rhythm, and brought out the humanity and likability of the characters. The cast were all fantastic, and the sparseness of the stage worked well - the focus was fully on the actors and the words they were saying.
We were sat in the front row, far stage left…which was basically on the stage. The theatre is teeny, with no raised stage, which meant the actors were walking by us close enough to touch. Being that close to Tom for an extended period of time was full-on exhilarating. When he’d run by us, we’d get a waft of air and could actually smell him. I didn’t get to last time, so I breathed in deep this time…and it was absolutely delicious. I’m sure we were visibly swooning after each inhale.
(I’m really sad that only a limited number of people will get to see this, and I know there’s been much discussion over the supposed “exclusivity” of this show, but I must say, in being one of the lucky ones who got to be there, that it was magical how intimate this was. It was immersive - a unique and beautiful theatre experience. I feel incredibly grateful.)
Important things must be addressed, so: couch humping. Was SO FUNNY. It wasn’t a full-on dry humping (oh god…I just had to take several minutes to think about what that would be like. I’m back now) but rather a couple of energetic thrusts. Which was enough. This was met with laughter and tons of quietly imploding vaginas, I assume.
In this same scene (a great scene), Hamlet sits on the recently-violated couch with Polonius and laughs loudly with him. It’s rather forced (he’s putting on a show here), but also - seriously adorable. Because Tom. It gifted us with a huge Hiddles grin, which is so damn infectious (as you well know). In the third bout of this laughter, Hamlet dissolves into tears. One of the best things about Tom’s Hamlet was how perfectly and naturally he navigated the quick shifts in his mood - swinging wildly between grief, rage, lunacy, amusement, earnestness - and it all felt incredibly deft and real. Also, that man is gifted when it comes to crying. I think there were real tears in his eyes for about 75% of the performance. At one point, you could see the tears falling, illuminated by the stage lights. It was beautiful. I managed to stay seated and not run to throw myself on him and cover him in kisses, which was obviously what first instinct was telling me to do.
Okay…let us talk about how good he looked. IT IS GROSS, AND MAKES NO SENSE. My brain can’t compute this level of attractiveness, and I have no appropriate words to convey it. It’s even worse in real life. And truly, this is Peak Tom, look-wise. I missed probably large sections of dialogue due to thinking about his hair (I wish this was a joke). I could not stop staring at it. The curls are entrancing. It is perfection. I will cry when he gets a haircut. THIS IS THE HAIR HE WAS BORN TO HAVE. Also, THE JEANS. Holy fucking hell. I could write a Hamlet-length soliloquy about those jeans. Maybe it was because I was on the side, so I spent a good amount of time looking at the back of him, but…I have never appreciated a view more. Those jeans were, um, very tight, and I have zero complaints. I think I could actually see his thigh muscles flexing through them. I was equally entranced by his legs and thighs throughout the whole thing. My stream of consciousness went something like this: hair-legs-thighs-jaw-eyes-voice-words-legs-ass-kill-me-now…!
Yeah… his ass in those jeans. Specifically when he was moving or jumping around a lot. I leave it to your imagination.
Overall, there is truly just something about him. We have not been imagining that. His physical presence is undeniably, overwhelmingly attractive. He’s all legs and cheekbones and curls, and the way he moves is impossible to look away from. He’s so damn FIT. His body, his face, his every movement…it’s all just sex incarnate. I can’t be eloquent about it. What the fuck do you say about this. Just. Ugh. Fuck me up.
Will you look at this? GOD.
Wardrobe stuff: I love his new peacoat. It’s really nice and looks so soft, so he looks super huggable in it. I will continue to swoon over the upturned collar look on him - it works so well with his long neck and impeccable jawline. I also like how well he rocks the hoodie-and-peacoat combo. Really, is there anything that doesn’t look good on him?! Oh, and…there was no appearance, sadly, of the beloved grey boots (those boots are like a secondary celeb spotting for us by now). He was wearing dark brown boots through the whole thing. But they looked really good too no duh, so, no big loss.
Uh-oh… this post is already very long, and I have at least 26 more things to say about all of this. I’m think I’m gonna stop here for tonight and write a part two tomorrow. Coming up: tummy peeks, dancing, leather gloves and the opinions of the lady sitting next to me on Tom’s ass in those jeans (you didn’t think I was done talking about that yet, did you?)
Summary:We’re all running from something. Whether it’s a painful past, uncertain
future or murky present. One of my favorite things about theatre, is that for
an hour, maybe two – you can escape. You don’t have to be yourself, if you
don’t want to. Better yet, you can find yourself in someone else.
I’d like to address the whole “bottom/top” BS I’m seeing in this fandom and other fandoms with m/m ships, as a gay man myself. And I’m going to do it in the only way I know how.
Here’s my husband and I. We’re the same in terms of body structure, and he’s only well-shaven because his job requires it, but he loves facial hair as much as I do. I love to cook and bake (I like making things that are pretty and taste good), and he loves to grill. I stay home with our child while he’s at work, and he takes care of our child in the mornings so I can sleep. We share the chores. He likes ripped jean jackets, and I like leather jackets and peacoats. We both like masculine and feminine jewelry. I cuss up a storm, and he only does so when he’s reached his limits. He likes high heels and nail polish, and I’ve once upon time worn skirts, dresses, and make up. We both burp, fart, scratch places we shouldn’t in public. We take turns spooning each other. I take care of the bills. We’re both fiercely protective.
Who’s top and who’s bottom?
Would it anger you if I told you differently than what you answered, and that you most likely sat there and determined based on heteronormative stereotypes?
It doesn’t matter what we look like, or who we are – the bedroom is a different world. We don’t ascribe to the “who’s female and who’s male” mentality. Why does our level of masculinity or femininity determine our sex life?
Why does it seem to determine the sex lives of m/m fictional couples?
Hannibal Lecter being a bottom has nothing to do with him being an “alpha” male. It is not degrading for any man to be a bottom. ANY man. And the fact that so many people become enraged that someone writes a very masculine character as a bottom disgusts me. Men of all types like to bottom, and it’s mostly to due with pleasure.
Shut the hell up and get over it.
“But I prefer…”
Listen. You can prefer certain kinks, you can prefer vanilla sex, you can prefer no penetration, or any sex of any kind (asexuals are awesome). But for god’s sake, stop fighting about tops and bottoms. It’s incredibly uncomfortable as a gay man to see these fights, and to feel such profound shame that people believe men like me or my husband would never ‘take it up the ass’ because of some stereotypical, heteronormative bullshit reasons.
Read bottom Hannibal, don’t read bottom Hannibal. Don’t read top or bottom of whatever character. I don’t care. But just STOP looking at M/M relationships through hetero/cisgender goggles!
She felt the cool metal of the cabinet drawers hit her back, his long fingers weaving through her loose blonde strands. Was it possible to die from ecstasy? If so, what a way to go. His lips trailed a path from her neck to her collar bone as she squeezed her eyes shut and wrapped her long legs around him, pulling him even tighter against her body.
Her hands moved to unbuckle the belt around his waist, but they were quickly knocked out of the moment by an obnoxiously loud banging on the door of the trailer.
“Is that your mom!?” Jughead ripped away from his sexy girlfriend and pulled his shirt back on, heading for the door.
She hadn’t witnessed the whole interaction, just the exchange of jackets and his surprised face when she called his name. Heading back into the trailer, Betty started to gather her things, leaving Jughead to speak to his new “friends”. She had to get out of here, what was she thinking? Hanging around Serpent territory after everything that had happened in the past month. Buttoning her jacket and searching for her bag she hardly registered Jughead walking towards her, she never even heard him speak her name. She jumped when he placed a hand on her shoulder
“Betty..” he started before she cut him off
“I should go. It’s late, It’s not too far from here.. I’ll walk, the fresh air will be good for me.” She moved towards the door but he quickly put his hand out to stop her
“You’re not going out there on your own, talk to me. Let’s talk about this.” He begged, his hands playing with the buttons on her jacket.
“There’s nothing to talk about, you made your decision.” She wrapped her arms around herself, it was what she did when she was bidding from someone, it made Jughead heart ache to see her hide herself from him.
“Nothing’s been decided, it’s just a stupid jacket. It doesn’t matter, you matter, we matter” he emphasized the we as she stepped back finally getting a look at him in the jacket.
Fuck. It was sexy as hell.
Obviously not the criminalistic activities tagged along with the logo but the way the jacket wrapped around his broad shoulders, his tossled black hair falling in his face, as he stared at her with wide, scared eyes. This was still Jughead, this was still the boy who had declared his love for her a mere minutes ago, the boy who had made her ache in places she didn’t know possible. He was still her Jughead, just an incredibly sexy version.
His eyes ducked to meet hers before she mumbled under her breath
The long pink peacoat hit the ground in seconds flat and before Jughead could even catch his balance, Betty was wrapped around him, her fingers tangled in his hair before running over the swirly snake emblazed on his back.
“I want you” She growled into his ear, her hands pulling the leather from his body as they stumbled into his bedroom.
Jughead pulled back, looking into his girlfriends glazed and lust filled eyes as she pulled off her tank top , revealing the lacy pink bra he had admired a few minutes ago. As he stared down at the perfect specimen laying on her back on his old mattress, he couldn’t think of his father or the Southside or his future, all he could think of was being with Betty completely, showing their love in the most absolute way.
“Are you sure?” He asked quickly, his own shirt now laying on the floor as she gazed up at him through her eyelashes
“Never been so sure” she whispered
That was all it took for him to dive into her, lifting her by the hips and tugging her into the headboard, his jeans hanging loose on his hips while she unzipped her skirt letting him tug it all the way down his fingers tracing her long smooth legs. She whined from above him, her hands reaching for him, he dragged his palms the entire length of her body and moaned when she pressed her chest into his hands
“Right there” she let out on a breathy sigh, he glanced up to find her eyes closed as he quickly disposed of her bra, taking the time to admire her breasts before letting his inexperienced fingers wander, by the way she sighed he assumed he was doing something right. Betty could feel how excited he was digging into her thigh
“Protection, do you have it?” She asked dazed as he pulled something from the side drawer
“Never thought this would happen, dad wanted me to be prepared just in case. Never imagined it’d be with you, only dreamed it” he mumbled against her neck, grinding into her, his soft cotton boxers causing friction with the lace of her panties.
She watched as he pulled the condom on, and slowly pulled the lace away, staring intently at something she was certain he had never seen before. Her eyes took in all of him, once he finished he looked up at her with unsure eyes
“I love you Jughead Jones, no matter what you are, who you become. I love you” she encouraged, wrapping her legs around his waist and bringing him inside of her. She winced at the pain, it hurt more than she expected, but hearing the deep guttural groan of her normally composed boyfriend, eased the ache a bit.
“I love you. God I love you” he moaned into her neck, pulling in and out of her excruciatingly slow. It al happened so fast she wasn’t even sure when she had hit her high, only coming down from it just in time to see Jugheads eyes roll back and his shoulders shake. He slumped beside her, dragging her into his side and peppering kisses to her hair
“Thankyou, I love you. That was.. did I hurt you? Was it awful..” he trailed off suddenly stiffening as he tried to pull away.
Betty shook her head quickly, pulling him back down and nuzzling against his bare chest
“It was perfect. Absolutely perfect” she whispered and smiled when she felt him sigh in relief.
“Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it. I won’t join the serpents, I’ll… I’ll figure something else out” his hands played with her sweaty strands.
Betty sighed softly
“You do what you have to do. I meant what I said, I love you Jughead, no matter what you are, I’m going to love you.” She turned her cheek to look at him and went breathless at the intense look of love in his eyes.
“Besides” she continued, a teasing smirk on her face “we’ll finally be the real Romeo and Juliet you’re always talking about” she giggled.
Jughead rolled his eyes, pulling the covers tighter around the couple
“Except no one dies, alright?.”
Betty yawned, slowly closing her eyes
“Deal” she whispered before both the love sick teens fell into their dreams.
Description: Sehun is the worst, everyone loves him, well except you. You won’t fall for his fake face that he feeds all your colleagues. Until you both come to an understanding.
A/N: Apparently I’ve had this sitting in my google drive completed already. I guess I’ll just upload it for luls. This was totally inspired by one ok rock’s song ‘bedroom warfare’. Sehun fit the profile pretty well tbh. You guys wanted smut, you have smut. Bad smut.
Summary: An ideal fourth date in February? Simple. A cup of coffee and maybe a confession or two that Chris has been keeping from you for long enough. He couldn’t wait another moment to tell you that he saw as the stars aligning for him; the moment he met you.
“Because! Come on, what’s the worst that could happen?”
“I give you something that you’re allergic to and you die on my account and your fans stampede to my house and then they kill me too.”
“You’re quite creative…”
You shrugged and looked down at your dirty boots, “Some would call me cynical.” Chris smiled and just shook his head laughing quietly to himself. “Well, cynically creative it is then.”
A small smile on your face. He just grins down at you then looks up at the menu.“Okay, well I’m only allergic to two things; Shrimp, and Cats. So if you find a shrimp cocktail on the Starbucks menu, I suggest you divert to another food.” A giggle flew out of your mouth, making the two dimples on the apples of your cheeks strike Chris’s eye. He looked in your direction as you stared up at the menu above the Barista when he saw the beauty next to him chuckling at his allergies. Chris looked at you, with a spark in his eyes, “What!”
“Shrimp? Really? Interesting…”
“Oh, well Ms. Perfect, what allergies do you have?”
“I’m allergic to men who wear t0o much Axe body spray.” Chris bellowed out a laugh and didn’t receive a wink of attention from anyone inside the cramped Starbucks.
It was a busy Monday morning in Manhattan, people didn’t have time to glare at the happy couple on a weird ‘eight in the morning on Monday’ date.
Slinging his arm over your shoulder, Chris brought you closer as soon as you two finally reached the register. Suddenly it felt a hundred degrees hotter in here than it did a second ago.
When you ordered for Chris you decided to get him an Americano iced, with milk and one sugar. Adding a cake pop to your order, much to Chris’s amusement. He knew that you’d steal it from him later.
“I’ll have a Venti, Iced Caramel Macchiato with skim milk, and one slice of lemon bread to go, please.”
Your mouth must’ve hit the dirty Starbuck’s floor once he finished his order. You looked at Chris and saw he was amused by your expression when he glanced down at you, out of the corner of his eye.
“How the hell did you know that was what I liked?”
“Babe, we’ve gone on three dates and I’ve known you for what, a year now? If it’s mid-spring, and you aren’t wearing a jacket it’s an Iced Caramel Macchiato with skim milk, but you hate the thickness of regular milk, and lemon bread because it’s fucking awesome. No matter how much hate lemon bread gets, you’d defend it to your last dying breath.”
“I just don’t understand why this generation has no respect for lemon bread. It’s disgraceful!” Smiling down at you, he rests his head on top of yours as you two wait for your orders to be filled in the sea of busy Bostonian’s.
“So, what does your daily horoscope say today…” He peaked over and smiled, leaning back so people couldn’t get a good look at his face. He didn’t want to be recognized on your date, he wanted it to be just you two.
“What does it say?”
“Well, Miss. Aquarius, you are having a five-star day- and hey! So am I, the Gentle and Genuinely Handsome Gemini, if I may add.” Rolling your eyes, you put your hand on your hip, rolling your hand forward for him to continue. “It says; Wait for opportunities to come your way. You are waiting for a sign but you will not receive one unless you shoot for your goals. You are going to cross paths with…” He pauses for a second and smiles, leaning back as he looks at you. “What? I’m gonna cross paths with what?”
“The love of your life.” He says quietly.
You stopped for a second, and don’t even care when your name is rung out, “Order for Steve and order for James.”
Your eyes are wide, even while Chris moves to grab both your orders, “It says that?” Chris nodded, bringing you the lemon bread and iced drink.
“Well, what does your’s say?”
Chris sighed in content, pulling the door to the streets of Pant Suits and Cabbie’s yelling at one another. As the harsh winter air hit your faces, the breeze takes your hair back. Brushing the curly strands off of your shoulders that we’re covered in a simple black peacoat. “It said, ‘Gemini, you have already met your one and only. Don’t let them walk away without telling them how you feel or it will haunt you. You’ll regret it the moment they turn away into another lover’s arms.’”
Smiling down at you while you two start the short walk back to his apartment, Chris couldn’t help but a breath escapes him at the side of your perfect, pinched pink cheeks and puckered lips from being chapped from the vicious blowing winds. “Well do you think your horoscope is true?”
“Hell yeah…” Chris answered you coolly, although a wave of anxiety hit him when he paused for a second before shooting a glance at you and quietly repeating you back your question, “Do you?”
You don’t need to look up from your lemon bread to know he’s watching you, you could just feel the love of his eyes bearing deep into your heart, making it pump blood faster every time those blue eyes were looking in your direction. With a small sip of your drink to let the bread go down easily, you reply confidently to Chris, not even skipping a step. “Fuck yeah.”
Smiling at you no longer feels like enough for him, so letting all fucks fly into the wind, he stood in front of you and bent down to land an impassioned kiss on your stinging lips that now just felt numb. Numb with a bee’s sting of love.
Chris was kissing you at the traffic light, not bothering to worry whether the world was watching or not. When the walkers started across the street, your lips parted from each other and Chris guided you along, letting you lean on him as a bit of support. Still in shock of the electricity that now coursed through your veins bled straight into your heart. Your brain was a haze by the moment you two just shared with a thousand other people on the corner of Village Street.
Together, you walk silently now, no longer feeling the need to fill the silence. The sky was blue and the sun had risen high above you two. Feeling his hand reach yours, you hooked your fingers with his and felt them grasp stronger, intertwining his fingers with yours. Chris was clutching onto you as if he was gonna lose you in the bustling crowd. Suddenly it felt like your safety came before his own on the bustling streets.
After a while, when you finally reached his apartment, you two sat down and relax for a second with Dodger begging to play fetch with his favorite toy, a rubber turtle that didn’t bounce that bad but let Dodger get in a bit of a good exercise until you’d take him down to Berrington Park.
Chris suddenly gives you the look of the joker, with a wide grin that could almost appear as sinister. He was too cute to be sinister, though. You took a bite of the lemon bread that was barely left. You had one, maybe two bites before it’d be done. Scarfing it down in what you knew would be very unflattering paparazzi photos soon.
“You made those horoscopes up, didn’t you?” Smirking, Chris nods, taking an unauthorized sip of your macchiato. Not that you cared or anything.
“What did yours really say, Chris?”
“It said…I’d fall in love with a lemon head.” Smacking him on the arm, you giggle before surprising him and bringing him forward with your hand on the back of his head.
“Your such a clown sometimes, Christopher.”
“Some call it more sarcastic or dry.”
A soft smile fell onto your lips as you press them barely to Chris’s. He felt like a feather now laid on his lips. Setting the two drinks on the coffee table, you just barely mumbled into his kiss as those large, beautiful, slightly chapped lips brought you in, “The Sarcastically Dry Comedian it is then.”