#why do i keep waiting until the last minute

[stxrslutrestored]

SILENT TREATMENT

pairing; rafe cameron x sweetie reader

summary; even after your little confrontation, rafe continues to neglect you, so when he tries to give you his affections, you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, little do you know how well that may end for you

content; body worship, oral (f receiving)

authors note; re upload! part 2 of waiting for you

last night was good, you wake up feeling relieved, happy to have finally resolved your issue with rafe. you can’t wait to spend time with him today. you roll over when you feel him stir, a smile pasted on your lips, “mornin’ rafe,” you grin, hand coming up to caress his sleepy face. he looks so pretty in the mornings. 

a little smile creeps onto his lips as well, his eyes peel open and he meets your loving gaze, “hi sweetheart.” 

you move to cuddle closer to him, but to your surprise he sits up. you sit up too, but don’t follow him as he gets out of bed and grabs his clothes. 

you tilt your head in slight confusion, but you keep smiling, “where you goin’? we only just woke up.” you’re dreading the next sentence to come out of his mouth. 

he nods absently, “yeah uh.. I just—” he points to the door over his shoulder, “got some work to do.” his voice trails off, and before you know it, he’s walking out the door. 

son of a bitch. 

you sit there for a few minutes in the company of your own silence. you can’t believe it. you’d had a whole fight last night, he’d acknowledged that he was prioritising work too much, and now, at seven in the morning, with no deadline, he’s gone back to it. without paying you a single glance at that. 

you get over it, sure, you are totally over it. you spend the day with yourself, but you can’t help but be peeved the entire time. in the evening you make yourself a meal, only yourself, one portion. rafe is nowhere to be seen, so why should you cook for him?

when he comes downstairs you are on the couch watching the tv with your meal in a tray on your lap. he walks over to the kitchen where the empty pot lies still on the stove. upon opening the lid of the pot and finding nothing his face falls, “you didn’t cook for both of us?” he asks, brows furrowed as he speaks to the back of your head. 

“I didn’t know you wanted food.” you say, “been workin’ all day, didn’t even know if you were gonna come down.” you take another mouthful of your meal.

“what am I supposed to eat?” his face contorts in slight frustration. he looks like a kicked puppy. he hadn’t had to actually think about what to get for dinner for ages, you’d always taken care of it.

“I don’t know,” you put a sickly sweet twinge in your voice, “you could get takeout… or cook. do you know how to do that?” you know it’s a bit of a mean comment but god dammit you’re hurt. he’s hurt you and you will hurt him back until he realises how shitty he’s treated you. 

it continues all week. the snarky comments and disregards of each other. rafe keeps to his work and you keep to yourself. 

you both ignore it with great passion. neither of you caring to acknowledge all the feelings, knowing that when you do, it will be a turmoil that you just don’t want to face.

of course it has to happen, and in a turn of unexpected events, it’s rafe who initiates the conversation. 

you’re just getting into your night clothes when he enters the room, speaking your name. he leans against the doorframe to talk to you. “you look nice.” he says bluntly. 

you smile, but you don’t look up at him, “thankyou.” you slip your nightdress on and then stand to walk over to bed. 

he sighs and meets you before you can sit down, “uhm.. d’you wanna.. maybe do something..” he asks, it’s awkward, he barely ever has to ask, normally it just happens. his hand rests on your hip. 

you shrug, “I don’t know.. I’m pretty tired actually.” you tell him, looking up at him, and yet it’s not an intimate eye contact like it should be right before you climb into bed with him.

“come on.” he murmurs, “let’s just.. be together y’know.” he smirks tentatively, rubbing your hip now, but you don’t return his energy. 

“no. I think I’d rather just go to sleep. you can lie with me if you want.” you make to move past him but he stops you, holding you back. 

“no.” he raises his voice slightly but quickly corrects his tone. “no— no you’re- you’re ignorin’ me.” he pulls you in front of him, his head cranes down just a little bit to keep your gaze. “I know why. okay— I get it but— I- I can’t make it up to you if you don’t let me.” 

you shake your head, “I don’t know what you’re talking about rafe,” you speak so matter of factly, “I just wanna go to sleep right now.” 

“no. no.” he pushes you back, “let— lemme make it up to you.” he speaks, frowning in upset, “I can show you I- let me show you that I’m sorry okay.” 

you furrow your eyebrows, it’s not like rafe to speak like this, he’s never sorry for anything he does, he believes every action he takes has a purpose and that nobody has a right to complain about them. rafe saying sorry is basically him admitting he’s completely and utterly pussy whipped. 

you stay sceptical though, “mhm. what are you gonna do to show me rafe? fuck me? again? for the one hundredth something time in our relationship?” you raise an eyebrow.

rafe stutters, thoughts faltering as you call out the plan he thought to be impeccable. “I’m- I’m not just gonna fuck you.. okay I- I-”

“you’re what? gonna make love to me? touch my innocence? be intimate—” the agitation in your voice starts to come through, you do just want to get into bed. 

his hands come to your shoulders, but the touch is gentle, not firm or commanding like it normally is. he hesitates for a moment and then makes a decisive noise. suddenly he’s lowering all the way to his knees, hands still firm on your shoulders.

“I- I love you okay.” he looks up to you, blinking away the tears forming in his eyes. his hands pull at your nightdress, tugging it off and discarding it to the floor. his hands run down your body. 

“love this body,” he says, “love you. love you so much.” he kisses your lower tummy, maybe in an effort to hide his now falling tears. you didn’t think your silent treatment would provoke such an emotional reaction from him.

“rafe…” you frown, hand coming to the back of his head as he looks right back up to you. you think about telling him to leave it because you feel bad, but then you realise that this despair in him could get you something good, and so you decide to be selfish. “show me.” you tell him, “show me how much you love me.”

rafe’s head lowers and he begins to move down your body. he starts to place wet open mouthed kisses on every spot that his face passes and his hands follow after. he works his way all the way down until he’s kissing just above your pussy. 

“god.” he exhales, “gonna— gonna show you okay.” his hands come up to support your hips as he brings his face down again and his open mouth comes into contact with your most sensitive spot. 

you seethe a breath, legs weakening from the contact but his grip on you is strong and he keeps you upright as he begins to move his mouth. 

he kisses and sucks with ease, tongue swirling around your clit. you have to hold back surprise at the fact he’s so good at this, you’re not sure he’s ever eaten you out before. 

he lets out little murmurs and breaths that seem to send vibrations through your entire body. you have to throw your head back in pleasure, you feel so good.

rafe comes back for a breath, pulling away with a pop. his lips and chin are glistening with your wetness, he looks up to you with wide eyes and swollen lips. 

“do you believe me.” he asks breathlessly, he looks so desperate. so desperate. you take sympathy on him, his hurt puppy look, those wide sad eyes.

you nod, “I believe you. I know you love me.” you smile down at him. he lets out a breath of relief, a smile forming on his own shiny lips. 

he keeps your gaze for a moment and then he goes back down, now with a newfound energy that just makes it so much better. with his face still buried in your pussy he makes to turn you around so that you can fall back onto the bed. you realise now, that you are in for a good night.

[nino-rox]

PETER PARKER | BOYFRIEND HEADCANONS | M | GENDER NEUTRAL READER

Warnings: Sexual Themes, Mature/Explicit, Gender Neutral Reader, Tom Holland As Spider-Man, Not Proof Read

DISCLAIMER: Please be of the appropriate age ( i.e, Adult as per your country’s stipulations and regulations) before interacting with this post.

(Author’s Note: Requested by Anonymous user. My first time writing headcanons, I’ve barely even read any so I’m sorry if it’s not great ! Please request for more ! )

~What dating Parker feels like on a day to day basis

THE SKYLIGHT CATASTROPHE

One night, there’s a thud loud enough to rattle the walls, followed by an ominous silence. You know exactly what’s happened even before Peter pokes his head through the window, windswept and grinning sheepishly.“So, uh… surprise! You have a new skylight!”

You cross your arms, unimpressed. “You broke my roof again?”“Okay, technically, it was already fragile. I just… sped up the process.”

The next morning, you find him on the roof, duct tape and webs in hand, muttering to himself like he’s crafting a masterpiece.“Peter, you’re going to fall.”He waves you off without even looking up. “Relax! You’re being ridiculous. I’m Spider-Man—I won’t fall. Skylights are all the rage anyway. Just think of it as me upgrading your house for free!”

Right as he says it, his foot slips, and he stumbles forward, barely catching himself with a web against the gutter.“SEE? I caught myself!” he says triumphantly, cheeks flushed as he steadies himself.

You stare at him, appalled. “Peter, I’m not worried about you, you blithering idiot. I’m worried about my house! Fall on the road and break your head if you want, but I swear to god, if you break my house again—”

“Noted. No more house-breaking. Promise. Bob the Builder’s retired anyway,” he grins.

WEBBED LAUNDRY

You pull a ruined hoodie out of the wash—bright red, stretched beyond recognition, and sticky with web fluid. Marching into the living room, you hold it up like evidence.“Peter! Why is my hoodie fused with web glue?”

Peter looks up from the couch, cereal bowl in hand, his eyes widening. “Ohhh… yeah, about that…”

You glare, waiting.

“I, uh, might’ve had to yank my suit off super quickly after patrol last night—it was covered in webs—and I didn’t realize it stuck to your hoodie in the laundry pile.”

You narrow your eyes. “You didn’t realize?”

Peter sets the bowl down, flashing a nervous grin. “Look, web fluid is mostly water-soluble! If we wait a day, it’ll dissolve!”

You groan, holding up the ruined fabric. “It better dissolve. Or you’re buying me a new hoodie.”

Peter slides an arm around your waist, grinning. “Or… we could share this one? Exclusive Spider-Merch for my favorite person.”

THE GREAT SPIDER-MAN’S HANDYMAN FAILS

You and Peter finally move in together, which should have been exciting—except unpacking with Spider-Man is a nightmare.“Peter, where’s the box with the kitchen stuff?” you ask, arms crossed.

Peter scratches the back of his head, sheepishly pointing to a corner. “Uh… it’s webbed to the ceiling. I thought it’d save space?”

You sigh. “Okay, fine. But why is there a Spider-Tracer in the toaster?”

He grins nervously. “Security measure?”

Later, you catch him trying to web a shelf together instead of using screws.“PETER!”“What? This is structurally sound!”

THE HOODIE INCIDENT

Peter freezes when he sees you curled up in his hoodie, sleeves hanging past your hands.“You stole it again?”“Finders keepers.”

He steps closer, voice low and teasing. “Looks better on you anyway.”

Before you can respond, he tackles you onto the couch, hovering over you with a grin.“You’re not keeping it.”“Make me.”

MORNING HEATWAVE SNUGGLES

You wake up tangled in Peter’s limbs, his face buried in the crook of your neck. It’s cozy—until you realize he’s a human heater.“Peter. Let me go. I have stuff to do.”

“Five more minutes,” he murmurs, pulling you closer with ridiculous Spider-strength. “Spider-Boyfriend privilege.”

“You smell like sweat and bad decisions.”

Peter chuckles, his breath warm against your skin. “Want me to make another bad decision?” His lips brush your jaw as his voice drops, teasing. “I can make you sweaty too.”

Heat flares in your cheeks, but you manage to mutter, “You’re impossible.”

His smirk is pure trouble as he rolls you onto your back. “And you love it.”

SWINGING FOR BEGINNERS

The first time Peter suggests swinging with you, you laugh nervously. “No way. I like my life.”“It’s safe! You’ll love it—I promise.”

The moment he scoops you into his arms and leaps off the edge, you scream loud enough to wake half of Queens.“PETER, I SWEAR—”

“You’re fine!” he calls out, laughing as the wind whips past. “Just enjoy the ride!”

You bury your face in his shoulder, heart pounding. “I’m never letting go. Ever.”

Peter grins, holding you tighter. “Good. I wasn’t planning to let you go anyway.”

ROOFTOP MIDNIGHT ESCAPES

Peter swings into your room after patrol, his suit half-off, hair wild from the wind. “C’mon. Let’s go somewhere.”

Before you can finish protesting, he sweeps you into his arms like it’s the most natural thing in the world.“Peter!” you yelp, clutching his shoulders as he shoots a web and leaps into the night.“Trust me, I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his grin softening.

The wind whips past, adrenaline rushing through your veins as he swings effortlessly between buildings. When you finally land on a rooftop, he pulls you close, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’re not scared, are you?”“Not anymore,” you whisper, and his smirk grows as his lips meet yours, slow and steady, grounding you after the thrill.

POST SWING MOMENTS

After a particularly daring swing where Peter narrowly dodges a billboard, he sets you down on a rooftop, his arms still firmly wrapped around your waist.“Are you okay?” he murmurs, his voice low as his thumb brushes your cheek.“I’m fine, Peter. You can let go now.”

He doesn’t. His grip tightens, and his voice drops to a husky whisper. “You have no idea how hard it is to let you go.”

Your breath catches as his lips brush yours softly at first, then with increasing intensity. His hands slide to your lower back, pulling you closer until the world disappears around you.

“SHH, I’LL MAKE IT WORTH IT.”

Peter returns from patrol late at night, finding you half-asleep on the couch. He crouches down, brushing a kiss to your temple.“You awake?” he whispers.

You mumble something incoherent, only stirring when his lips brush yours again, this time slower, more deliberate.“Shh,” he murmurs, pinning your wrists gently above your head. His grin turns playful as he leans closer. “I’ll make it worth keeping you awake.”

Your heart races as his kisses deepen, trailing down the side of your neck. “You’re impossible,” you manage to say, though the way your breath hitches betrays you.

“And you love it,” he murmurs, his lips pressing firmly against your pulse, his smirk growing when you shiver under his touch.

SHOWER?

Peter comes home sweaty and grimy after patrol, and you shove him toward the shower. Minutes later, his head pokes out, water dripping over his shoulders as he leans lazily against the doorway.“You know… showers are more efficient with two people,” he says, his grin pure trouble.

You roll your eyes, turning back to your book. “Peter, no.”

He steps closer, letting water drip from his still-damp hair onto your shoulder as he leans down to whisper in your ear, his voice low. “You sure? I could scrub your back… or hold you against the tiles.”

Your cheeks burn, and you push him away half-heartedly, glaring. “Peter—”

He catches your wrist, pulling you to stand, his eyes locked on yours. “What?” he murmurs, tilting his head, his smirk teasing but his touch firm. “You’d look cute all wet.”

“Stop!” you squeak, swatting his chest, but he’s already laughing, pressing a kiss to your temple before finally retreating back to the bathroom.“I’ll leave the door unlocked, just in case,” he teases before disappearing behind the steam.

DATE

Peter had promised to meet you at the café after your shift. You’d been looking forward to it all day—just a simple hour with him, no superheroes, no chaos. But an emergency call from Ned about some escaped tech left you waiting alone, watching the minutes tick by.

When Peter finally arrived, his hair disheveled and guilt written all over his face, you didn’t even need to ask.“I’m so sorry,” he blurted out, his voice tinged with desperation. “There was this thing—Ned needed help—and I couldn’t just leave it—”

“It’s fine,” you said sharply, though your tone betrayed your disappointment. “I get it. You have other responsibilities.”

His shoulders slumped. “No, it’s not fine,” he muttered. “I messed up. And I know it’s not the first time.”

You sighed, softening as you saw the guilt etched across his face. “Peter…”

“I’ll make it up to you,” he said, almost pleading. “Just… give me a chance.”

Later that night, he showed up at your window with a bouquet of daisies that looked like they’d survived a tornado and a homemade playlist.“I know it’s not much,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “But these reminded me of you—bright and sweet. And I put all your favorite songs on here, so… I hope it makes up for me being a total idiot.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you took the flowers, pulling him into a tight hug. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered.

“Lucky you think I’m cute,” he teased, kissing your temple. “I’ll do better next time. Promise.”

TRIVIA NIGHT

Ned had invited you both to trivia night, but no one warned you how competitive Peter could get. It started innocently enough, with Peter rattling off science and history facts like a human encyclopedia. But when the questions shifted to pop culture, his confidence started to falter.

“You’ve never seen Mean Girls?” you asked, incredulous.“Uh, no?” he replied, looking genuinely confused.MJ rolled her eyes. “Peter, how do you even function as a person?”“I fight bad guys!” he defended, flustered. “I don’t have time for… whatever this is!”

As the final round approached, you noticed the way Peter’s brows furrowed, his shoulders tensing like he was about to swing into battle. Leaning over, you cupped his face gently, forcing him to meet your gaze.“Peter,” you said, your voice teasing but warm, “you’re cute when you’re losing.”

His jaw dropped, and before he could protest, you kissed him in front of everyone.

Ned let out a dramatic gasp. “In public? With witnesses?!”MJ snorted. “That’s disgusting. I’m rooting for you two.”

When you pulled back, Peter’s face was a brilliant shade of red, but the grin he gave you was dazzling.“I don’t even care if I lose now,” he whispered, leaning in for another kiss. “This is so worth it.”

HANDMADE

Peter had been acting strange all week—fidgety, distracted, and overly secretive. You were starting to wonder if something was wrong when he showed up at your door with a small, carefully wrapped box and a sheepish grin.

“What’s this?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as he practically shoved it into your hands.“Just… open it,” he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Inside was a sleek black flashlight, surprisingly lightweight, with a small engraved spider emblem on the side. You turned it over in your hands, curious.

“It’s not just a flashlight,” Peter said quickly, scratching the back of his neck. “I, uh, noticed you sometimes leave the light on at night, and I thought… maybe this would help.”

Your chest tightened. He’d picked up on your fear of the dark without you ever telling him outright.

“It’s also kind of… Spider-Man-approved,” he added, gesturing nervously. “There’s a tracker inside, so I’ll always know where you are. And if you press the button three times really fast, it sends an SOS directly to me.”

You stared at him, overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of it all. “Peter…”“I just want you to feel safe,” he said softly, his brown eyes earnest. “Even when I’m not around. You’re my world, and I want you to have something to remind you that I’m always here for you.”

Your throat felt tight as you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him. “I don’t even know what to say,” you murmured against his shoulder.

“‘Thank you’ works,” he joked, though his voice was thick with emotion.

Pulling back, you met his gaze and smiled. “Thank you, Peter. I love it. And I love you.”

His face lit up, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, holding you close. “I love you too. Always.”

SPILLING

Peter had always admired how hard you worked. While he juggled Spider-Man and school, you balanced late-night shifts, studying at your rundown public school, and still somehow found time to make him feel like the center of your world. But admiration wasn’t the only thing he felt—sometimes, he felt inadequate.

On the other hand, you often wondered how you ended up with someone like Peter Parker. He was a literal superhero, acing advanced physics while you struggled with Algebra II. You worked part-time jobs just to help keep the lights on at home, and there were days when you felt like you’d drown under the weight of it all.

That tension finally bubbled over one evening. Peter swung by your place unannounced, but his usual warmth was absent. He dropped onto your couch with a sigh, his shoulders slumping.

“You okay?” you asked, sitting beside him.

He shook his head, staring at his hands. “How do you do it?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Do what?”

“Everything,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “You don’t have superpowers, or Stark tech, or a fancy school helping you out. And you’re still… incredible. You’re better at life than I am, and I’ve got every advantage.”

The words stung—not because of what he said, but because they mirrored your own insecurities.

“What are you trying to say?” you asked, your voice cracking as you braced yourself for what felt inevitable.

Peter hesitated, his jaw working as he tried to find the right words. “You deserve someone who can keep up with you. And I’m not sure I’m enough.”

Your breath hitched, and before you could stop them, tears began streaming down your cheeks. “Wait, are you saying this is over?”

“What? No!” Peter sat up straight, his hands shooting out to reach for yours. “That’s not what I meant! I’m talking about me, not you! I’m the one who’s not enough!”

“You are enough!” The words burst out of you, but the crack in your voice betrayed how deeply his statement had shaken you. “I’m the one who’s not enough, Peter. Look at you! You’re saving lives while I’m just trying to keep the lights on at home.”

Peter’s brows furrowed, guilt flooding his features. “What? No—no, don’t say that.”

“But it’s true,” you whispered, pulling your hands free and wrapping your arms around yourself. “I can barely make it through my shifts without wondering if I’m going to mess something up. And then I see you—perfect Peter Parker, superhero and genius—and I just… I feel so small.”

For a moment, there was nothing but silence between you. Then Peter moved closer, carefully placing his hands on your shoulders. “You’re not small,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “You’re the strongest person I know.”

You let out a bitter laugh, wiping your eyes. “I’m not.”

“You are,” Peter insisted, gently tilting your chin up so you’d look at him. “You don’t have powers, but you work harder than anyone I’ve ever met. You care about people. You care about me. And I…” He trailed off, his voice breaking. “I don’t always feel like I deserve that.”

Your breath caught at the raw vulnerability in his words. “You don’t have to be perfect, Peter. You don’t have to save me, or prove anything. I just want you.”

He stared at you, his eyes glistening. “I want you too,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “And I’m sorry I made you think otherwise. I just… I don’t always know how to keep up with someone like you.”

“We’re both trying to keep up,” you said quietly, leaning forward until your foreheads touched. “And that’s okay. We’ll figure it out together.”

Peter nodded, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you into his chest. “Yeah,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Together.”

The two of you sat like that for a long time, the weight of your shared insecurities fading, replaced by something stronger—a quiet, unshakable love.

SERIOUS

Peter comes home late—bruised, bleeding, and far too casual about it. You snap.“Do you like scaring me to death?”“It’s just a scratch!” he argues, dropping his mask on the couch.“Peter, you’re not invincible. What happens if one day you don’t come back?”

He pauses, guilt flickering across his face. “I can’t stop being Spider-Man.”“And I can’t stop worrying about you,” you whisper, your voice breaking.

He looks away, fiddling with his web-shooter. “I don’t want to scare you. I’m sorry.”

MAYBE NOT SO SERIOUS?

Later that night, Peter finds you sitting on the fire escape, staring out at the skyline. He hesitates before sitting beside you.“I hate fighting with you,” he says quietly. “You’re the only person who makes all of this feel worth it.”

You exhale slowly, leaning into him. “Then don’t make me feel like I’m losing you.”His arm wraps around you, his voice breaking slightly. “I’ll do everything I can to come home to you. That’s a promise.”

He presses his forehead to yours, and when his lips brush yours, it’s soft and full of unspoken apologies.

THANK YOU FOR READING ! PLEASE SEND KINKMAS REQUESTS AND PROMPTS! <3 Please Request if you’d like me to expand the headcanon into SMUT <3

[nneteyamss]

ROSES — 19. FAWK

(partly written)

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y/n walked to the park, clutching her jacket closer to her body. the december air blew into her face making her cheeks red as she buried her face further into her scarf.

“why the fuck couldn’t i have picked somewhere warm… my ass should not be put in the cold at 8 o’clock at night.” y/n mumbled to herself, already regretting leaving her warm bed. from a distance she spotted intak seated on a bench, looking at his phone. he was bundled up in a big winter jacket and a scarf wrapped around his neck. yet he had hat, letting snow fall and stick to his black hair. intak suddenly looked up hearing y/n approach and stood to greet her.

“hey… thanks for meeting with me, sorry it’s cold.” guilt instantly ran through y/n’s body because he seemed nervous.

“sorry for making you wait, i don’t know why i picked outside..”

“no it’s okay, i just got here a couple minutes before you.”

y/n simply nodded, shoving her hands in her pockets. the silence was lasted as neither of the two said anything after that.

“uhm do you want to sit? i cleared the snow off the bench.” he gestures to the bench and she nods. they sit down and another awkward silence fills the air.

“so, what did you want to talk about?” y/n turns to him, breaking the silence.

“oh right! i wanted to apologize again about the other day. i shouldn’t have kissed you without asking or so suddenly like that.”

“i appreciate and accept your apology, but why were you there?”

“i don’t know how to explain this without sounding crazy but i knew jaehyun was going to be there, and i had a weird feeling he was going to try something. i came in disguise and i approached you because i saw him walking up to you” y/n started at him with a blank stare, processing what he just said.

“so you were stalking me?”

“well no… but yes? yes to an extent!” intak fumbled over his words, not expecting that question. he thought of it more as keeping an eye out on her for a space she knew the man she so says didn’t like was going to be in. now that she said it though, it kind of seemed like stalking. “sorry” he mumbled.

“your disguise was ass by the way, you should’ve asked shota for his fake mustache” she giggled looking ahead of her. the situation was getting too serious, and she felt the need to make it more lighthearted.

“no way… he said the SAME thing. how do YOU know about the fake stache?”

“i’m the one who bought it for him of course!”

“this is like a full circle moment, what the fuck.” the two laughed together at the moment. who would’ve ever thought that shota having a fake mustache would arise in this convo. however, the laughter eventually died down and intak turned serious. he turned to y/n and grabbed her hands, which were now out of her pockets.

“listen, i need to talk about the main reason i wanted to talk. please don’t say anything until i’m done.” he was dead serious, y/n nodded and pushed down any jokes she could’ve made in the moment. “we’ve been fake dating for a couple months now. we both know the original reason this started. but y/n… i really like spending time with you, like a lot. you’re funny, gorgeous, caring, and so much more. i didn’t plan it but i thought this was just gonna be some fun side quest activity. the more time i spent with you and got to actually know you and your personality, the more i started to actually like you. i tried to fight it off because i mean this relationship wasn’t real and i’m your brothers friend, but i can’t help it. i really… really want this to be real. we get along so well, and there’s a connection. what i really called you out here for was to ask this. i really really like you, could i have the honor of being your boyfriend?”

the long speech was followed by silence. one blink, two blinks, no words. embarrassment gnaws at intak who immediately started to regret asking out of fear of her not feeling the same. yet, he didn’t say anything and let her take her time.

“intak, i didn’t know you felt that way. i feel like this is very sudden though. i need to think about this before i answer, im so sorry” intak nodded and gave her hands a squeeze before letting go. “i’ll text you, i just need to think.” she said again before standing up.

“that’s okay” he gave her a small, yet warm smile. his cheeks were red and his hair was getting damp from the snow. y/n reached forward and pulled his jacket hat onto his head.

“you should get home before you get sick… it’s cold and you don’t have a hat.” the words left her mouth quietly, but intak still heard since the night was quiet was well.

“you should get back as well”

y/n nodded and put her hands back in her pockets, “i’ll see you.” she said and began making her exit of the park and going back home, leaving intak standing in the cold. by time she got in her car and started driving away, intak made his way to his car, waving as she backed out the parking spot.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊

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taglist (closed): @cloudmrk @yyangj3lly @vehaez @mmjhh1998 @gomdoleemyson @alethea-moon @jkslvsnella @starfilledgaze @solvrse @dudekiss3r @nattan127 @nerdsungie @lovesuhng @tokitosun @dokgrayson @222brainrot @jakeshuneybby @antifrggile @cyjzzl @nctseventeensworld @bloomyroses @doughyk @lovefooi @chaerinmin @chenlesfavorite @urlocalbeaner5 @thegracerammy @lionzyon @fairyoflia @haefelt @sunflowerbebe07 @seventeeneration @apolloxxivmin @onlyhyunjin @pinklemonade34 @adorwooks @angelpiixie @jkxlvrr @hisrkive @sunghoonsgfreal @zzurao @mango-bear @bee-the-loser @callita @lttlekomori @neozon3nha @calssunflower @natokkiz @joonsprettygf

notes: lalala guess who finished finals, passed all their classes, and got back to work again this week (i need to make all the money i can over break for psyfe and 127 concerts) 🙂‍↕️

[nightplvmes]

*.⊹˚ XAVIER | lights (christmas special)

── ◜xavier x fem!reader — mini one shot 1k words ◜Xavier prepares a Christmas surprise for her with the help of his evol. — author's note | christmas specials from the rest of the LI on my profile

She sighed, looking at her empty plate of food. She looked back out the window of her apartment, noticing that the weather hadn't improved. She didn't have many plans for Christmas but she was definitely hoping to do something other than stay locked up at home… that is until a snowstorm came.

She knew the weather wouldn't be the best but she certainly didn't expect to be completely locked in. Her plans with her friends had been ruined and she felt guilty for not stopping by to see her mom.

She looked back at the TV, there was a boring Christmas movie on that was better than nothing… Until her surroundings grew dark. The power had gone out. The damn power had gone out on Christmas Eve. It was the last thing it was missing from her horrible night.

She hadn't been able to leave the house because of the storm. She hadn't been able to go see her mother and she had not been able to attend the small meeting that her friends had organized either.

It took her a couple of minutes to get out of her trance, it felt like a really bad night and there was nothing that could cheer her up anymore. She decided that the best thing to do was to spend some time on the balcony, maybe the fresh air would help her clear her head. That was when she realized that not all of the city had ended up in darkness, there were some places and buildings that still seemed to have power and a few others that didn't… unfortunately for her, her building had been one of the ones affected.

The sound of the door had taken her out of her bubble and she rubbed her eyes before getting up from the ground and walking to the front door. She thought maybe it was the building manager talking about the problem but it was the opposite…

Xavier let out a yawn and rubbed one of his eyes before looking at her with one of those small smiles he sometimes had on his face. She had learned to read his micro expressions, she felt like no one knew him like she did and it was probably true.

"Hey… what are you doing here?" She asked confused, she wasn't trying to kick him out of her house or anything but it was Christmas Eve, she thought maybe he was with… someone.

"The power went out."

She had to press her lips together to keep from laughing, of course she had noticed that and she knew Xavier wasn't trying to be sarcastic but there was so much seriousness on his face that she couldn't help but want to laugh.

"I know… Do you want to come in?" She stepped aside to let Xavier into her apartment.

He nodded and walked inside, noticing that the only light came from the open balcony doors.

She decided not to ask. Maybe Xavier had simply decided to spend Christmas at home. It didn't surprise her after he thought they were just going to get together to read on his birthday. His birthday was important, right?

"Come… the view is pretty from here." She took his hand and practically dragged him to the balcony.

When she sat back down on the floor, he didn't hesitate to imitate her, taking a seat next to her. Her eyes were fixed on the city, waiting for the power to magically come back at any moment. Meanwhile, Xavier's eyes were completely on her, as if the pretty view she was talking about was about her.

She sighed, feeling somewhat sad. She certainly didn't expect to spend Christmas like that. Although it made her feel a little more comforted to have Xavier there.

"Why are you home tonight?" She looked at him when she heard Xavier's question. She had told him two days ago that she had a meeting with her friends because she had tried to convince him to go with her.

"Didn't you see the news?" Xavier shook his head. "The storm closed the streets. I tried to leave but a policeman stopped me and forced me to go back the way I went." She sighed again remembering the disappointment she had felt when she had been told those words.

Xavier looked away. He felt sad to see her so sad, maybe his presence wasn't that much but he wanted to do something to cheer her up. She kept her gaze fixed on her hands, still feeling down. She played with her fingers and the small threads that came out of the edge of her pajamas. Until something caught her attention.

An orb of light was near her cheek. She raised her face to find the small orb floating near her face. With her brow furrowed she looked at Xavier without understanding, more small orbs came out of his hand and floated around her, a small smile formed on her face.

"What are you doing?" She smiled excitedly when the orbs around her began to move around her, until they gathered in front of her.

"We need light," he lied. He actually wanted to put a smile on her face and it had clearly worked. There was now a huge smile on her face as she tried to touch the small orbs of light but they just moved away from her touch.

The small orbs gathered in front of her again, forming the silhouette of a Christmas tree and then they dispersed again. The small orbs scattered in front of her again, forming small spheres this time. It was like her own little personal light show.

"Open your hands." She complied and spread her hands in front of her chest.

The orbs of light this time gathered over her hands without touching her completely. Forming small stars, it was like holding the stars in her hands in a perhaps too literal way.

The orbs scattered until they became small particles that disappeared from her sight, leaving her almost in complete darkness again. She now had a huge smile on her face and it had definitely been the highlight of her night.

"Thank you." She smiled, shifting her gaze back into her apartment. Her eyes searched for one of the clocks in her house to confirm what she had in mind: it was already past midnight. "Merry Christmas, Xavier."

"Merry Christmas," he murmured. He slid his hand out to take hers.

[writteninthebinds]

Teach Me

A Jayvik fic - part two

Word-count: 2256

Summary: Jayce teaches Viktor how to dance. Things get a little heated.

Warnings: This is pretty tame. A little nsfw dialogue at the end that alludes to part three.

Notes: I really love this. This is technically part two but you can read it on its own. You can find and read part one on my page. I didn’t put near the same amount of effort into part one, so I might even go back and update it sometime soon. I’ll create a list where you can find them all together too. It’s currently 5am, haven’t slept and I won’t be able to sleep if I don’t post this now, so I apologize if there’s mistakes lol. I’ll edit them when I wake up again. 🫶🏼 you guys.

“Oh, but there is no music,” Viktor musters with pause, like a last-minute thought. Like he didn’t fully think through asking Jayce to teach him how to dance. Here, alone, in his room for the night. Viktor stands towards the end of the large king-sized bed, navy-colored sheets with gold stitching. His cane is tucked into his side, eyes on Jayce, who’s still standing in front of the double doors leading to the balcony.

Jayce is luminated from behind. The glow of the party lanterns below casting warm shadows into the night sky and their -  Viktor’s room.

“We shouldn’t need any,” Jayce promises as he steps further in. He’s still taking in the room, the colors and warm ambient lighting, when he focuses back on Viktor. For a split second, he stands there looking unsure, doubtful or perhaps even regretful for asking Jayce.

Something akin to dedication and reverence rakes its way across Jayce’s bones. Deep in his marrow. He wants to erase any trace of unease from Viktor’s body and mind.

Taking a few long strides, Jayce moves to a small coffee table in the room. Sly smirk painted across his lips, hands already deep within his pockets, searching, he says, “You get the steps right, I give you more of these.”

Confusion clouds Viktor’s face. Eyebrow quirked, nose slightly scrunched, until he looks down. Jayce litters the tabletop with sweets. The same candy he stole earlier. Viktor’s favorite. A laugh is shoved from Viktor’s chest as handfuls are dropped. He watches in awe, in surprise. Jayce can’t tell which, though he decides right then and there that he’ll do anything to keep that look of wonder and mischief on Vik’s face.

“Jayce.”

Viktor laces his name with muted laughter and accusation, really failing to look upset in the slightest. 

“Don't. Don’t give me that. You’re lucky I didn’t grab the crystal dish they were sitting in. Would’ve been easier to carry all night. Been weighing down my pockets,” Jayce rambles.

Set ablaze from the joy on Viktor’s face, he’s moving faster again, not overthinking every move. He gets excited. Jayce knows this. His words and actions speed up, excitement bubbling in his chest. Enhanced by Viktor.

He's still going, Jayce. Still talking, still moving, until a slight breeze pours cool air down his back. It’s then Jayce pauses. His suit jacket is already halfway down his arms, resting in the crooks of his elbows. He wasn’t thinking. Why would he take off his jacket just to dance? Is it weird? Does Viktor think so?

No.

Jayce watches as Viktor stands there rolling up his own sleeves so causally. He doesn’t stop, still folding the fabric. He only looks up at Jayce when he’s been quite for a little too long. And Viktor just smiles. Easy and cool. Like a lazy creek. It soothes Jayce, like the most expensive balm one could buy.

“Alright,” Jayce explains as he shucks off his jacket the rest of the way, “the Waltz. It’s a simple box step.”

He closes the distance between them. His nerves are only settled for so long, until he comes to stand in front of Viktor. Until he realizes, they both can’t lead.

A smug smile tugs at the corner of Viktor’s mouth. He doesn’t wait for Jayce to voice what he can clearly read written on his face. Confident as always, he grabs Jayce’s hands. Hosting their right and left into the air, clasped together, and guiding Jayce’s right to his back. Viktor whispers, “You lead. I will follow.”

That stirs something within Jayce. Deep in his gut. A pit buried and nestled behind his belly button, and Viktor’s dipping his fucking fingers in.

He feels the back brace beneath Viktor’s black shirt, firm under his open palm. Jayce wants more. To feel more. He looks good in black. Fuck.

The feeling of Viktor’s hand coming to a rest on his shoulder shakes Jayce from his thoughts.

“We’re essentially mirroring one another’s steps, in the shape of a box. Each step is a corner,” Jayce describes. His hands are still on Viktor when he realizes he probably should’ve shown him the steps first, with more space between them. He steps away to demonstrate.

They walk through it slowly. One step at a time. Apart and then together again. Jayce gets lost. It might look like he’s letting Viktor work through the stumbling steps on his own, but no, he’s just lost. In Viktor.

Jayce in time relaxes. His right hand splays broader on Viktor’s back, covering so much space. His thumb trailing the line of his spine through the brace. He wants to feel skin. Their palms are slick with sweat, Viktor’s fingers tightening against his hand and shoulder with each misstep.

“Viktor,” Jayce speaks, “eyes on me.”

Instantly Viktor is there, grip still tight and honey amber eyes fixed on his face with determination. A bit of annoyance. Jayce smiles softly. He finds it endearing. Viktor’s intent to learn. Though now Viktor doesn’t respond, doesn’t return to the steps either.

A beat of silence. Then –

“How do you suppose I learn if I am not looking?” Viktor sputters, frustration etched into his features like Jayce asked him for something impossible. It only fuels Jayce’s adoration. Laughing, he pulls away gently, fingertips lingering, and walks over to the small table.

“You’ve done exceptional,” Jayce says as he swipes two pieces of chocolate. He walks back over to Viktor, unwrapping the fudge himself and holding the foil flat for Viktor to pick off of. Even more melted than before, fudge and peanut butter coat the foil, smudging their skin.

“The only exceptional thing I’ve achieved is not breaking any of your toes,” Viktor muses. Joking, but still frustrated. Viktor finishes eating, slipping his thumb into his mouth, ridding it of any left-over fudge.

Jayce finishes his own, tucking the trash into his pocket to deal with later. Busying himself, Jayce stares at Viktor’s feet, partly thinking and partly looking anywhere else that is not Viktor’s mouth. He replays the steps in his mind, imagines Viktor’s brace. Even though he can’t see it now he remembers its design, the mechanics.

While he didn’t lie to Viktor at all, he can understand the hiccups due to the brace. The small steps forward aren’t so much the issue as the side steps and going backwards. Viktor’s leg brace was built for stability. Rigid and sturdy, not for flowing movements. Counterbalancing his weight without his cane is also new.

“Take off your shoes,” Jayce declares. It stops Viktor mid sentence, going on again about Ms. Ellis and when she’ll notice the missing bowl of sweets. He stands there frozen and perplexed. Jayce doesn’t give him a chance to question.

He kicks off his own, and then drops to his knees. Jayce slips the ties of Viktor’s dress shoes loose easily, letting him hold onto his shoulder as his heels slide out.

Perhaps the chocolate has gone to Jayce’s head.

“Now what?” Viktor ask once their both standing again, facing each other, amusement and sarcasm replacing his confusion. They’re both in their socks. Feet sinking into the plush carpet, Jayce takes a step forward, and another.

“Wanted to try something. You’re gonna have to be closer this time though,” Jayce explains. He crowds into Viktor’s space. His right hand reaching forward with confidence, with the excuse that it’s for the dance. Viktor doesn’t hesitate, slipping back into the familiar stance. Until -

“Now, place your feet onto mine,” Jayce explains.

Now Viktor hesitates.

Looking up from the floor, amber eyes on hazel, Viktor says nothing. He just looks at Jayce intently. A moment passes, thick with tension. And in another moment, Viktor drops their clasped hands, grabbing Jayce’s other shoulder.

It shouldn’t be as intimate as it feels. The soft arch of his feet. A shutter shouldn’t rack its way down Jayce’s body as Viktor’s sock covered feet slide onto his.

It’s closer than Jayce thought. Both of Viktor’s hands now rest higher up Jayce’s shoulders. Instinctively, his left found Viktor’s waist, holding him steady as he found his balance and a comfortable position. Just as he settles, looking back to Jayce directly, soft music drifts in from the balcony. The party outside.

Jayce nearly forgot. The sea of people outside, mingling and some dancing themselves. Though Jayce would never trade spots with any of them. Money, power, spotlight. He’s content here. Alone with Viktor, in the sanctity of this room. A new song begins downstairs. Jayce’s cue to start moving.

He moves with a little more effort, the weight of Viktor comforting more than anything though. Gliding across the carpet Jayce starts with a formal Waltz. Poised and perfect. Long strides. He even adds in the turns. He wants Viktor to feel it, the grace of a Waltz you’d perform in front of the eyes of those downstairs.

But here, with Viktor, he shortens his steps soon. Because that is not them. He doesn’t feel the pressure to be perfect in Viktor’s arms. They’re more than fancy parties and the “right way” to dance. He wants Viktor to know he can have it all, that Jayce will show him everything, but that most of all, any way is perfect as long as it’s them. Together.

Before long, they’re simply turning softly, swaying. Moves Viktor could easily do and yet his feet never leave Jayce’s.

“Thank you,” Viktor breathes. The words are spoken lowly enough between them that Jayce barely registers it. Lost again. Jayce hums in response. He can’t do words at the moment.

Viktor’s body has drifted even closer. Jayce thinks if he takes a deep enough breath, their chests might brush together. But right now, it’s Viktor’s hands. Venturing from his shoulders to the nape of his neck, Viktor’s fingers graze against the longer strands of Jayce’s grown out hair. It sends goosebumps erupting, racing across his skin.

“What may I do for you in return? For all of this, tonight?” Viktor ask, his voice different now. Still sweet, still rich, but lower. Jayce understands right then that Viktor reminds him of syrup. His voice specifically. Aged and pure. Sticky sweet and slow. Thick and consuming.

Jayce smiles, responds, “The fudge, remember?”

“No,” Viktor muses, “something else.”

“Teach me something.”

Jayce can’t even regret it, once it’s past his lips and out of his mouth. Words thrown out like a curveball in slow motion. He meant it sincerely. Jayce taught him something, why not offer the same in return?

It came out heavy though. Flirty. Loaded with innuendo due to the slight draw of Jayce’s voice now.

“Like what?” Viktor inquires. It’s this moment Viktor’s fingers, warm and soft, fully slide into Jayce’s hair at the base of his skull. Jayce bites his tongue, and everything he wants to say back.

How to touch you. How to kiss you. How to ask for that from you. Fuck.

Jayce says nothing. He knows though. Viktor knows. Has always been able to read Jayce’s thoughts. Can read it all over his face too, and in the steel look in his eyes.

There is only a beat, soft, before Viktor’s grip tightens in his hair, ripping a gasp from Jayce.

Before he can breathe in again, Viktor’s mouth finds his. Warm. Soft. Their chest fully pressed together now. Jayce’s lungs burn for a full breath, but he doesn’t relent. Neither of them do. He only needs Viktor. To breathe him in.

His arms wrap fully around Viktor’s waist, pulling him in tighter, hands roaming his back now. Their tongues meet and that pit in Jayce’s belly turns molten. A sound Jayce doesn’t want to admit to escapes as Viktor brings a hand around to his face, nails scrapping through his bread. They break apart.

“Jayce,” Viktor rasp.

Jayce doesn’t give him a chance. Driven by need and Viktor’s wrecked tone. Knowing he made him sound like that, he dives back in, erasing the smile from Viktor’s face. Jayce licks behind his teeth, tasting champagne and chocolate, and just - Viktor.

Viktor’s nails scratch his jaw again, venturing lower. His other hand still drags through Jayce’s hair. Things become slower. Hands still roaming, squeezing, pulling. They stand still though. No longer swaying, Jayce’s feet are going numb and tingly beneath them, and he couldn’t care less.

Languid strokes of their tongues draw out more and more sounds. Jayce is distracted. Drowning and loving it. Drinking Viktor in by the lungful. It’s why he doesn’t see it coming.

Another tight grip in his hair, accompanied this time by Viktor’s other hand wrapped around his throat too, squeezing as Viktor sinks his teeth into Jayce’s bottom lip.

“I – unnf.”

Jayce groans, best he can with the way Viktor has his neck cranked back, fingers tightening around his throat.

“Tell me, Jayce. Tell me what you want to learn,” Viktor all but purrs.

He leans in, not going back to fully kissing him but licking across and into Jayce’s open mouth. Like he can’t stop himself either. Like Viktor, too, is fueled by desire, too hungry to wait for a response.

Jayce is weak. Weak when it comes to Viktor. Viktor’s wet mouth and hard touch. He sticks his own tongue out, meeting anywhere Viktor will allow him a taste. He only answers when Viktor pulls back once again.

He pants like a dog. Whines, only a little.

“Teach me how to suck cock.”

[caslyra]

And Yet, Here They Are - a wolfstar one-shot

prompt: mistletoe @wolfstarmicrofic (word count > 1,000) Read on ao3

Remus finds Grimmauld Place covered in a darkness that seems to stretch beyond perceptibility. It is expected, given the time and that other kind of darkness that seems to withstand every purge. 

Six months of living in this place haven’t dulled that unease that settled in his chest the day he followed Sirius over the threshold in late June. 

He ignores it now, lighting his wand.

Heading straight to his room is tempting, incredibly so. Days of chasing leads, of leaning into his nature to gain trust and coax information have left him bone-tired. But Dumbledore is waiting for his report and experience has taught him that sleep blurs the edges. 

A cup of tea, then. Perhaps he’ll be done in an hour’s time. Perhaps Umbridge will revoke her anti werewolf legislation and set up a support program for half humans. 

On his way to the stairs he trips, barely catching himself before falling. The last thing he - or anyone else - needs is Sirius’ mother screeching slurs in the middle of the night. Tilting his head, he looks down. He’d thought he’d stumbled over the umbrella stand (‘Is that what I think it is?’ - ‘Depends. If you think it’s a troll leg.’), but his attacker proves to be a heap of magical snow, complete with a tiny sleigh gliding on top. 

Frowning, he straightens his back and moves on. 

He’s two thirds through his second cup of tea, wishing the same could be said of the report, when a movement to his left startles him.

‘Thought I’d heard something,’ Sirius says. 

Remus refrains from pointing out how that’s impossible - Sirius doesn’t need his messed-up sleep habits thrown back at him. 

Instead, his lips curl into a small smile. A friendly face - more importantly a familiar face - at last. 

‘I’ll try keeping it down,’ says Remus drily, tapping against the parchment, which has the audacity to respond with an ear-splitting rustle. 

Sirius’ smile is barely visible from the corner of his eye, but the scrape of a chair against the floor is unmistakable. 

‘Best I make sure,’ says Sirius, sinking into a seat. 

‘Mh… best,’ Remus hums and glances sideways at Sirius, knowing Sirius will understand it for the thank you it is. He’s grateful for the company, but equally grateful Sirius isn’t trying to steer him to bed, understanding that Remus needs to do this now. 

A calm he hasn’t felt in days stretches inside him.

They don’t talk, not until Remus finishes the report with a sigh. As he pushes to his feet, Sirius follows. Five minutes, at most, now stand between him and his bed. A real bed, at last. Bending down to collect his mug, Sirius’ voice cuts through his thoughts. 

‘Remus…’ 

Remus knows that tone, although it had been a while since he last heard it. Low, laced with just a smidge of amusement, faintly suggestive. He knows nothing good ever comes of it. It’s a tone that belongs to Moony not Remus. 

Looking up, he meets Sirius’ eyes, darker than usual in the dim kitchen light.

Sirius’ gaze is too earnest for his tone, fixed on him with an intensity that feels like a strange attempt at Legilimency, or telepathy, perhaps. Remus doesn’t know. 

Remus raises his eyebrows, asking a silent question Sirius fails to answer.

‘Curse me if I’m overstepping.’ 

‘What?’ 

The word hasn’t left his mouth before Sirius’ hand finds his neck, thumb grazing his jawline and tilting his chin upward. Only inches away, Sirius’ eyes drift to Remus’ lips, then back up, as his fingertips ghost over Remus’ hairline. 

Sirius is holding his breath and Remus’ hitches. He might have guessed what’s happening, if only the why made any sense. 

But for all the haze that is filling his mind, for all the storm in Sirius’ eyes the question in them shines clear as day. 

He could pull back. Seconds tick by, offering chance after chance to stop this. He could pull back.

He doesn’t. His gaze drops to Sirius’ mouth, instead.

Sirius smiles. And leans in.

It isn’t the first time Remus has kissed someone, but it’s the first time he’s kissed someone he cares about. 

It is strange. 

There’s no fireworks, no trembling knees, no grand revelation unfolding behind closed eyes. 

But there’s something else. Something achingly familiar that shouldn’t exist, but stretches in his chest and leaves it raw with a want he’s never allowed himself to even think a bout. Not even in the darkest hours when he admits to himself that, perhaps... if things were different…

Things aren't. Different. And yet, here they are. 

Remus had thought he had made peace with never feeling like this, but the scrape of Sirius’ nails over his skin sends his emotions to war. Pinning a single coherent thought becomes impossible. He tries to pull back before he does something foolish over a simple kiss. 

Sirius grants him an inch, no more. Strong yet gentle fingers keep him close.

‘You didn’t curse me.’ Sirius murmurs, deep and low against his lips, eyes snapping open to meet Remus’. They’re almost all black now. Not a trick of light, Remus is fairly certain. 

The ache becomes unbearable. 

Sirius pulls back. 

His fingers linger for a beat, trembling slightly before his hand falls away. 

‘No.’ The word catches in Remus’ throat. It comes out rough, testimony to the fact that control is sliding away from bim. And with the distance restored, embarrassment surges up. Embarrassment at how easily a simple kiss unearthed what he’d buried. The last either of them need is him making things more complicated. Annoyed with himself and trying to push down that ridiculous want, he forces himself to meet Sirius’ gaze. But he can’t help it; he at least needs to know. ‘Why?’ 

Sirius points to the ceiling, eyes still locked on Remus’. A mistletoe drifts away from them. 

Remus’ stomach drops. He should have known, Sirius wouldn’t - not because he wanted to, he’d never-  

‘Fred and George.’ A faint grin flits over Sirius’ face, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. ‘Testing them, they say.’ 

‘I bet Molly’s thrilled,’ says Remus, grasping for safer ground. It’s no use; he can hear the embarrassment seep into his voice. 

Sirius is silent for a beat, just watching Remus like he can read every one of Remus' messy emotions, written across his uneasy smile

‘She set me up with Emmeline,’ he says slowly.  

Remus frowns. 

Sirius’ lips twitch, but his voice is even when he says, ‘Turns out, a quick peck on the cheek breaks the spell.’ It is a statement, but for some reason it sounds like a question. 

‘I…  oh.’ Remus clears his throat, thoughts swirling. ‘Then why-’ Why kiss me like you mean it?  'why would you-’ he gestures to himself, has to stop himself from touching his lips, from doing something ridiculous like hope when there's no time and place for it ‘-like this - if you could’ve just…’

‘What’d you think, Remus?’ Sirius’ shoulders tense, defiance hardening his eyes. ‘Suppose I wanted to, didn’t I?’ 

[to-the-stars8]

Home For the Holidays

Jason Todd & Dick Grayson & Tim Drake All Chapters Ao3

A/N: Just a little Christmas story for the holidays I thought I would post. I don't know if I'll finish it before Christmas or at all, but we will definitely see how it goes! Sorry if the characters are a little OOC, I just wanted to try something new--tho I did try to stick with the og characteristics as much as I could. Also, I'm kind of keeping it sort of to the original timeline, which is why it's set in the 90s.

Jason, Tim, and Dick are stuck in the middle of who-knows-where with little to no money and only five days til Christmas. Not to mention, tensions are high between them, so they have to come together to figure out a way to get home.

December 20, 1992, Reno, NV

Last Christmas was playing on the radio in the motel room as Jason took a drag off a cigarette while he watched Tim try a kickflip for the third time in a row. The plastic lawn chair he was sitting on was rocking back and forth on its feeble legs. He could hear Dick arguing with Bruce on the guest room phone inside, and it was getting heated. Eventually, the conversation ended with Dick calling Bruce a shit father and slamming the phone down. Tim must have heard it from his spot in the parking lot by the way he gave Jason a questioning look but didn’t say anything. 

A few minutes later, Dick stepped out of the room. He sucked in a fresh breath of Reno air before exhaling slowly. It was something he had been doing lately to try and calm down, but, this time, it didn’t seem to be working. 

Taking another drag of his cigarette, he offered it to Dick who declined it with a slight wave of his hand. Jason raised his eyebrows in an ‘you’re loss’ gesture before asking, “What did our dear old Dad say?”

By the sour look on Dick’s face, it hadn’t been anything good. “He’s on some mission and can’t come. He’ll try to get in contact with Alfred, but I doubt he will if it’s not urgent. He also bitched at me for not calling on a ‘secure’ line.”

Jason was all but surprised. Bruce picked and chose when he wanted to be a loving father. Flicking away the bud of his cigarette, he finally said, “This place is too expensive to stay at, even though it’s a fuckin’ dump.” 

“We’ll figure something out,” Dick said, trying to be calm. “I’d like to be home for Christmas. We should be home for the holidays.”

For some reason, that annoyed Jason and he snapped back, “And how are we gonna get there, Richard? Right now, I got thirty dollars to my name, and I would bet that thirty dollars that you got less. I doubt the kid has anything to offer other than piss-poor skateboarding skills.”

“I can hear you, asshole,” Tim shouted across the parking lot. 

Jason ignored him before saying slowly to Dick, “Just give up the Christmas idea.”

“Just because you and Bruce don’t like each other, doesn’t mean he doesn’t like us.”

Dick was sure Jason would have gotten up to hit him just by the look on his younger brother’s face. Standing suddenly, Jason glared down at Dick before turning on his heel to stalk off. Dick, feeling guilty, tried to call him back, but it was useless. With a huff, he retreated into the room. The door slammed shut behind Dick, making Tim jump. 

It had been like a cycle of arguing before coming to a truce since the end of the mission, and Tim had just started to wait until the next time they would blow up at each other. He couldn’t picture Jason keeping any kind of positive attitude of any kind, and Dick didn’t really have the sort of temper that could tolerate anything but happiness and complacency. At the end of it all, it left Tim annoyed, Jason stomping off, and Dick trying not to blow up. 

With a sigh, Tim went to do another kickflip.

[cattjull]

hii hehe,just before I request I wanted to say thaf I enjoy your fics a lot!! But do you think I could get Abby who gets home late fron partol to reader sound asleep but she’s just so needy and pent up from today patrol she can’t keep her hands to herself? It could be dom or sub doesn’t matter just need her to grind my ass

The promise.

a/n: I'm so sorry it took me forever! Also I suck at writing smut so I hope this lives up to your expectations. I'd really appreciate feedback from you!

cw: porn with barely minimum plot, somnophilia, ass humping (r!receiving), strap-on usage (a!receiving), dom!reader, sub!abby, hair pulling.

wc: 2200k.

As always, Abby had lost rock paper scissors against whoever-the-fuck it was this time. And as always, now she'd have to do the latest patrol, as you so much hated since you didn't have your pretty girl to cuddle you and help you sleep.

Now, Abby was frustratingly getting ready for patrol. As it was spring, she didn't need to put much clothes on. Easier to take off. You stared at her up and down as she took off her pajama shorts and tank top, leaving her in only her underwear. She acted so nonchalant while you were getting wetter and wetter with every single move she made, it was frustrating.

"You look so hot." You praised her, looking up at the big woman from your place on the bed. Your voice came out sultrier than ever, you were so turned on.

The look in your eyes, fiery, almost predatory, didn't go unnoticed by Abby. She carved a need in you so effortlessly it almost scared her, like you would never get tired of playing with her pink little hole. It was also one of the things she loved about you.

Abby's initial instinct when she noticed the tone in your voice was to look at the clock in your bedside table. She was already late.

"We can't, babe." She warned you as she put a grey tank top on that hugged her figure and made her biceps stand out.

"Why not? You'll be a few minutes late." You insisted with fake innocence, sitting up and already taking off your shorts.

"Last time you said that you tied me up for three hours." She retorted sternly as she finished pulling her pants up, trying to sound resentful as if she hadn't loved it. You snickered internally at the memory.

"You should learn about forgiveness." You said with a roll of your eyes as you took Abby's your oversize shirt off.

"When I get home you can fuck me." She promised you with a smile, showing her eagerness in her oh so beautiful eyes.

"But it's like... Three hours!" You complained. "I'll have to wait too much." You pouted slightly.

"Go to bed early, yeah? I'll eat you up as soon as I come back." The golden haired girl asked you gently, about to close the door behind her instead of giving up to your desires.

"No, baby, I promise I won't." You reassured fervently, even if she was asking for quite the opposite.

"I'll wake you up." She promised, as many times before.

"You're lying." You accused her, seeing right trough her lie.

Abby always told you white lies, and it was irritating at times. Telling you she'd wake you up when she came from a late patrol, saying she's not injured, lying to protect your poor heart. But it felt just annoying sometimes, so annoying you wanted to push her against the nearest surface and finger her until she forgot her own name.

"I'm not. I'll wake you up, yeah?" She insisted softly.

You wanted to make sure she woke you up this time. You sat up and walked to her, holding her hand and bringing specifically her middle and ring finger to your cunt. You moved your panties to the side and massaged yourself with her fingers, wettening quickly due to the slick that formed just by just seeing her changing clothes.

As you did that, you stared up at her, looking right into her blue eyes.

"You'll wake me up, will you?" You asked as you rubbed her fingers against your clit desperately, making you gasp.

"I..." She was at loss for words; you never failed to turn her on. "I will." She affirmed, a bit more surely this time as her voice turned breathy.

She quickly pulled her hand away from your underwear and walked out quickly before the temptation took over her and you found yourself dressing up again with annoyance.

You'd stay up, waiting for her. You'd show her.

Abby entered the house, tired from staying up for so long. Luckily she was not hurt; she didn't even face any infected or scar. It had been a quiet and unnecessary patrol, but at least she had had Manny by her side to keep her awake.

Even if in the first hour of patrol she had been eagerly thinking about coming back home and riding your thigh, or taking your fingers, or whatever you wanted her to do, she was too tired to wake you up and have sex. You could do it in the morning, like always.

That's the opinion she maintained until she opened the door to your shared room. There you were, as beautiful as a devil, sleeping like an angel. The only piece of clothing you had on was that lacy g string she loved so much, face down with a pillow between your legs. Her pillow.

All the neediness you gave her before patrol came back and crashed her down like a tsunami, drowning her in lust at the mere sight of your sleeping form as the ache between her thighs returned.

You had, indeed, did that on purpose, ensuring you fell asleep on that position.

She wouldn't wake you up, not when you looked so tired... She would be quiet, and gentle. Your ass was already up, maybe she could hump it. You had done the same with her other times and she woke up, but that was because she was a light sleeper... It wouldn't be the same for you.

As she finished reasoning, she quickly walked to the bathroom to clean her hands and came back to the bed. In a record time, she got rid of her boots and clothes, trying not to make any noise.

She jumped to the bed beside you and started rubbing slow, strong circles around her pulsating clit while she stared at your sleeping self, all quiet and pretty. It was all good until she realised she needed more.

Then she tried straddling your thigh and grinding on it. After one or two minutes, she gave up. It wasn't good enough.

She finally moved to your ass, which provided her the firmness she needed, the flesh being jiggly and perfect for her to ride, as if your ass was made for her to grind her pussy against it.

Time passed by as she grew needier and faster. Her pace slowly but surely grew rougher, her whimpers louder, and you already were soaked with her juices and she wasn't even that close to cumming.

A particularly rough grind, followed by a loud cry of your name, abruptly brought you back to lucidness. You felt Abby's weight over you, and at first you just didn't care. You fucked her when she wa asleep, she did too. No worries.

But then you remembered her promise.

The way she was using your poor sleeping body for herself, not even deigning to keep her word and wake you up to fuck you made your blood boil. How could she break such an important promise?

You waited until you felt her get weaker, her hands trembling at your sides. That's when you shifted, trying to get up and ruining her orgasm, what left Abby frozen in a mix of excitement and fear. You could be dangerous when she wasn't good or honest.

She immediately got off of you and you turned around, feeling her wetness all over your right buttcheek.

"I thought I told you to wake up." You reminded her, your voice already threatening even if you were still under the effect of sleepiness.

"Babe, you looked so peaceful sleeping..." She excused herself, her voice trembling and breathy. "I just wanted to cum." She said weakly with those doe eyes you loved, rubbing her thighs together as she tried to get back the pleasure she was feeling a few moments ago, but it was no use.

"Ass up now." You commanded, opening the drawer to take your clear strap. You quickly put it on, adjusting it, and climbed to the bed. You were still sleepy.

By the time you had finished adjusting it, Abby was already in her fours, back arched and her big, juicy ass on display just for you.

"Hmm, and now you're pretending to be a good girl." You said mischievously as you kneeled in front of her. "But I don't think you were. You promised to wake me up." You brought it up again, your voice cruel as you held the fake dick in your hand and introduced her in her mouth.

She tried to talk, but all that came out was a choked gagging. You took the strap out, wettened by her saliva in a way that made your walls clench.

"I'm so sorry. Didn't want to disturb your sleep." She gasped out, seemingly desperate for you to use your strap in her cunt and not just making her suck it.

"Too late." You retorted, and she knew from that tone in your voice that she wouldn't be treated any nicely.

"Please fuck me." She begged you, staring at you from her position.

"I was already planning on doing so." You admitted, your voice softening for a moment. "But first, suck it." You commanded, pushing your dick into her mouth roughly; she barely had time to open her mouth.

You spent around three minutes just making her suck your strap, making sure she got desperate. You didn't feel anything but an almost nonexistent brush against your clit, but the sight of her swallowing as much as she could from you almost made you feel like the silicone was a part of you, filling her mouth with precum.

Your clit pulsed so violently that you just pulled her braid back to stop her. You leaned against the headboard, still kneeling.

"Please." She pleaded almost religiously, as she should. Her blue orbs stared right into your soul, filling it with a sinful mix of compassion and lust. You would've loved to make her suck your strap and beg for you much more, but you also needed her. You yanked at her braid a little harder, earning a soft moan from her throat.

"There's no please. If you want me then fuck yourself on me." You replied simply in an icy yet mocking tone, hoping to fullfill your own needs.

She turned around and positioned herself with her ass right against your strap. She started moving up and down, letting the tip of the silicone rub against her, making her even more wet than she was already from her previous orgasm.

She then finally let your dick slide easily inside of her, letting out a soft whimper of relief.

"You're so wet." You mocked her.

"I just missed this..." She sighed out as she started bouncing back against you, using enough force so she was hitting your clit just the way you needed it.

Her braid was right there, adorning her back, inviting you. You yanked it back, drawing out a gasp from her and seemingly motivating her to get herself off on you with more force than before. Her pace was slow, but firm. Her ass bounced and slapped against you in that way that would leave you dazzled and drooling every time.

She grew needier and needier as time passed by, becoming more desperate and unable to speed up due to the position in which she was. You noticed she was close to cumming, probably due to her own arousal rather than because of the little amount of pleasure she was receiving from you.

You noticed her legs started trembling. That's when you placed your hands in her waist and started slamming your hips against her with no mercy, not only for her but also because you needed more friction against your clit.

You felt so close now that you were the one strapping her and not her fucking herself on you since you could apply as much force as you needed for the base of the strap to rub your clit just right. Your climax was slowly approaching you, and so was Abby's.

You started thrusting faster and harder. Since the whole time you hadn't made a move, you had enough stamina to fuck her as hard as you wanted, slamming into her walls rapidly.

"Can I... Babe..." She cried out loudly, clearly affected by your pace. Your hand gripped the back of her hips tightly, moving them as you pleased against you to get that sweet relief you needed.

"Yes! Oh my god, Abby, yes!" You screamed, already cumming. A loud moan followed by a trail of curses came out of your mouth as you moved faster, riding out your orgasm.

Abby's orgasm crashed her like a wave, slow but intense enough to drown her in pleasure.

"Fuck! Yes baby there there there...." She begged until she started babbling stupidly, encouraging you to push the strap deeper and deeper inside of her pretty pussy.

You kept going and ruthing your dick into her at that same relentless pace until she started sobbing and gripping the bed sheets hard. You weren't really into overstimulation; seeing Abby uncomfortable made your heart twist and clench and want to stop working. So as soon as you noticed her orgasm had already gone, you gave her one last thrust before sliding out of her entrance and kissing her cheek.

"Eat me out as you promised and we'll go to sleep, alright?" You asked demanded her sweetly.

[kazxraval]

Kaz felt confident he knew all of Emre's grins. Many prompted a most affectionate question: what is this fucker thinking? Others started a blazing fire in him, one that sparked low and radiated all throughout. Several were meant to be kissed off Emre's face. Twisty, bittersweet ones made Kaz want to grasp a shoulder, a hand, and look away. One in particular lived rent-free in Kaz's mind (an amused disbelief with a matching shake of the head).

This grin he knew too. Allow it, calm, everything is alright. Fair enough.

Somehow, Kaz kept the back and forth with Ginger Frank. Until his gaze connected to Emre's. Later, he'd wonder how Emre counted on Kaz to not hesitate and fire the speargun. Because even as he avoided being kicked and tripped by a semi-conscious Georgie, Kaz wasn't sure himself. (Perhaps it wasn't as much of a mystery as Kaz thought too.)

Sounds were muffled below the fast beat of his own heart, an enraged drum beat in his ears. Should he be worried more over how loud and rapid his heart raced, or by the silent squeeze of the trigger?

As soon as his hands touched Emre, ambient noise returned to pummel him. The discordant rock-and-slam of the other boat, still lodged on whatever it had initially struck. Gurgling, gagging, twitching limbs, and the scrape of a spear tip all played into a symphony of dying men on the floor of the deck feet away from them.

Emre's remark brought on a hideous recollection. Static postcard images of Emre, a true crime scene In the blue glow of the teleporters. About as lifeless on the ground as Frank. I'm alright. And already jumping to the next step. Not a minute to spare.

"Maybe I can figure it out." How to keep this new boat afloat. A big maybe, yet no other option appeared. He paused to watch and feel the soft scratch of Emre's beard in his palm with the kiss. Then, Emre flashed knives, like teeth in all those grins he memorized.

But, Georgie. An immediate frown was his response. The entire trip, Kaz fought through war zones to reach Emre. Every time he caught up, had a square inch of peace, he was shoved into battle again. "She don't know how--" he fumed, "I'm telling you." Not the worst logic, and Kaz was still surprised she made it so far. He started to look back to the other boat, but stopped as he caught sight of the dead crewman in his peripheral. "Why do you keep making me haul her ass around?"

Emre's hand flattened to Kaz's chest. Kaz's heart still ran wild and currently pounded in his throat too. He covered the hand with his own, with fingers curled under Emre's. Silver beads of rain began to sprinkle into Emre's hair from above. No fat drops, but he kind of wish there had been. The heaviest rain was what was needed to wash all the hell away. "Don't need a brolly when it's only drizzling," with a small and tired smile. Brolly, for Emre's amusement.

The latest idea worst than the last. "You want me to just wait on the fucking bridge while you're alone down there?" Not likely. He huffed in annoyance. "If you're not back up here in five minutes, I will come get you." Emre's knuckles were covered in dirt and blood, but Kaz kissed them anyway.

Hauling Georgie over to the new boat and cutting loose from the old one certainly burned more than the pledged five minutes. The blonde was propped up in what was presumed to be Frank's old chair at the helm-- rotted, split vinyl, the swivel of the seat squealed angrily with every half circle turn. He recognized an old fish finder set up on the dash and tapped it. "Is this how they avoided the reef, when your boat ran into it?"

Georgie's eyes remained closed as her grin spread. A lower giggle registered, and she slurred in a sarcastic tone, 'You're soooo smart.'

Kaz grabbed her by the shoulders and shook. Georgie's head flopped and bobbed with little control. "I didn't want to bring you on board. He did. Least you can do is help!"

'... but you did. You didn't leave me. Guess that friend of yours knows.' Her lips smacked and eyes cracked open. She sighed in resignation and pointed to a few lights on a control panel. Georgie walked him through the steps needed to raise the anchor and re-engage the engine, while the pair sniped back and forth. Kaz turned to study Georgie. She held on by a thread somehow, battered and seriously injured. "Georgina. What's below deck. What're they carrying on the ship."

She smiled again, eyelids fluttered in a fight to stay open, flyaways from her frazzled blonde braid peeled off her sticky-blood-and-sweat covered neck. 'Find out for yourself.'

Georgie covered a thick cough with her arm and began to get the boat moving. Kaz carefully crept below deck. At the bottom he paused to listen. Silence. Where was Emre?? Furious, he began to search. One hatch in the floor led to another, lower hold. Narrow but deep, perhaps originally meant to store fishing gear.

Kaz was looking down into the space when Emre finally appeared. He motioned Em over with a wave. "I found this." Kaz swept the beam of a flashlight below. Curled up on the steel floor below was a sleeping Ali. At least Kaz hoped Ali only slept. "Fuck. They might've..." he stopped himself, edited the blunt words that were about to come out of his mouth, as Emre seemed fond of the little shit.

"Maybe they doped him up or something." Like a child given sea sickness tablets to sleep on a short ferry ride. There wasn't any sign of blood on his clothes, bandages anywhere underneath. Just that same damn tatt they noticed earlier. "I can check his pulse." Instead, Kaz turned the light directly on Ali's face. After several long moments, his features contorted, and the boy whined in annoyance. Kaz's brows tensed. "Look. He's fine, isn't he. Gotta fumigate the place to get rid of the kid."

"What else did you find down here?"

"Soon, man," Emre replied with a wicked grin, so Kaz wasn't too bothered. The man was dealing with enough; Emre certainly didn't want to add to his already long list. From getting the tar beaten out of him, to now being responsible for a woman who, from Emre's understanding, had once loomed large and starry in Kaz's youthful eyes.

Now barely spared a glance, by Kaz. How cold Kaz Raval could become. How this man, who's pretty words 'Gonna have to claim you again...' could warm Emre now, from tip to toe. Kaz was not a fickle man; at least Emre believed, about matters of his heart. What family might've lived there, now carved out with a knife. How much his young, tender heart might've bled for Georgina, now cauterized into scars Kaz wouldn't even acknowledge. How profoundly Kaz could cut people off, people he might've once tried to love.

It was unnerving for someone like Emre, who didn't know how to give up on his messy, often ruinous relationships. The both of them, responsible for now being alone (either deliberately or through circumstance)...now together. Yeah, definitely soon.

Kaz's tone as he volleyed with Ginger could easily be interpreted any which way; and Emre could imagine his stony-faced expression paired with it. A frothy, greedy little thrill in Emre, because he got to hear a different sort of Kaz, got to bask in a myriad of faceted expressions that lit up or reddened those gorgeous features. Kaz's private looks - perfect distraction to think about, as Emre's hands moved in efficient death.

Georgina to her credit (Emre thought) made some final attempt at chaos, knowing her time was ending at the hands of a very special man. A man that she remembered still, had staying power in her brain after all these years. Emre couldn't even fault her, but his instincts took over. Kaz, the wildcard, the unpredictable.

Emre heard the spear gun. Or rather, he registered the milliseconds of a terrible woosh of the spear gun; a crack-squelch of Ginger's head now punctuated by dark red and a metal tip. "Oh fuck," Emre exhaled, staring as Ginger didn't register his fate at first. (The head felt no pain? There's no pain receptors in the brain? Folktales that spun around the nightclub tables of gangsters and roadmans, weird tales). By the time he fell, Emre looked up to find Kaz hopping over the rail, long legs easily finding purchase.

A face like smooth marble, as Kaz rounded on a cringing deckhand. "Kaz wait no -" Emre started, but the whoosh-kthunk to the throat (so precise! Oh Kaz...) ended the man's life without a second thought.

"Kaz..." Emre whispered, pushing himself up to standing. Only for Kaz to turn and face him, with the most gentle of looks, large eyes turned softest brown under that rain-patter of blood-spray across Kaz's features. The most concerned fingers slid around the back of Emre's head, checking, petting. Questions asked. Emre felt like he was in a strange dream, suddenly. One where blood and violence - things he associated with hatred, necessity, cold, cruel desperation - now blended with the sweetest kindness towards him. Towards him, genuine attention meant for Emre. Him and Kaz, creating something terrifyingly new here. Did Kaz feel it too, Emre wondered.

"I'm alright, I've been through worse," he said, smirking even when Kaz's fingers brushed over the scars of a baseball bat to Emre's head, many months ago. He nodded to the throated crewman. "But we still don't got no mandem who knows how to sail this thing. Might be more below decks."

Emre nodded, gathered his thoughts. When it came to killing, violence, it was never over. Once it started, it just kept going and going and fucking going... Emre wanted to be home. Home with Kaz, clean and scrubbed after a hot, painful shower together. He shook his head to clear it.

"Right. I'll go down - I'm alright," he assured Kaz, holding Kaz's wrist. Kissing a calloused palm that smelled like steel and blood. "Better off than you, trust. Still got my little friends to help," he lifted the knives. "You cut us loose, and bring Georgina on board, yeah? We can't leave her to die, Kaz. And besides," Emre offered a better incentive, so Kaz wouldn't grumble.

"Might be she knows how to sail a boat? Seems everyone in your old city is reliant on sailing, innit. She'd be stupid to not bother learning, herself. She can get us back to the mainland - she'd be saving herself too." Feroze was as good as dead, if not already. Poor sodding bastard had no idea at the start of his day when he'd found Emre and Kaz at the finance building, that his fate would end here.

Emre pressed his hand on Kaz's chest. He could feel Kaz's heartbeat, a pounding sound that seemed to match the waves around them. Suddenly, rain started to fall. Emre looked up, shook his head. "This fucking place. Just like London, innit."

Another nod. "You take our Georgina to the bridge, I'll go below and...see what's there." Emre was thinking the same as Kaz: what kind of cargo would he find on this pirate ship? Memories flooded Emre's mind: dark cabins in port ships, sea containers full of crying, sweat and perfume, different languages... these ones would have a special tattoo on their wrists.

If they found more 'cargo', what on earth were Kaz and Emre to do with them? Emre shook his head to clear his mind again, like a dog. Questions for later. "I'll be careful, I promise. As long as you're careful too."

As Emre stepped back, he could feel the floor slick, his boots skidding slightly. Whether that was from blood or rain, Emre couldn't tell in the dark. Kaz did this. And Emre had asked him to.

Soon.

[aquagirl1978]

it's only 7 pm...that's a lovely time to start writing Kanetsugu's birthday fic.

[steviescrystals]

i’m fr gonna lose my mind :)

[classyrbf]

SHE SAID IT'S HER FIRST TIME! — NANAMI KENTO

SYNOPSIS...older bf!nanami finds out he’s your first time and he intends to make it very special

INFO...older bf!nanami x virgin fem!reader, age gap (earlier 20s, early 30s), virginity loss, consent checks, praise, nipple sucking, fingering, pussy eating, penetration, slight blood, slight crying, creampie, nanami grows kinda feral, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

Having Nanami as an older boyfriend was such a joy. The maturity, thoughtfulness, communication, love, commitment, and patience you received from him was more than you could have ever asked for. You were always so open with him, telling him everything and just being the annoying girl friend you were. But, there is one thing that you’ve kept hidden for the last six months of your relationship.

Every time things got heated between you Nanami while making out or getting handsy, you always backed out last minute telling him that you “weren’t ready” and he always understood and respected your boundaries. Though, you are ready. If you were to lose your virginity to anyone you’d want it to be your sweet loving boyfriend. But voices in the back of your head start to make you overthink, wonder if he’ll even want you anymore if you confess to him.

It isn’t until you’re here on his bed, hands tangled in his hair while kiss him slowly, passionately. His hands are roaming all over your body, still careful to be respectful. You’re pushing into him, smiling in between kisses. “Have I ever told you how much of an amazing kisser you are?” He chuckles, peppering kisses along your jawline.

A blissful sigh escapes your lips before you answer, “no.” You shake your head, his lips traveling lower down to your neck. Your bottom lip tucks between your teeth, enjoying the moment. His tongue glides along the skin of your neck, gently sucking and kissing, earning little whimpers from you as a reward. His hand grabs at your leg, hooking in over his waist as he pushes his hips into you.

Your breathing grows shallow, heart beating frantically against your ribcage. You gulp, feeling things grow more intense with each passing second before you push Nanami away. “I’m sorry, Kento, I just—”

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I understand you want to take your time with this kind of thing.” He gently grabs your hand, the pad of his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. His brows furrowed as he studies your features, eyes wandering every where else but into his. “What’s wrong, hm? You know you can talk to me,” he says in the most smooth voice, one that makes you wanna spill every secret. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. “Sweetheart?” He draws out the pet name, he knows something is on your mind.

“Ken, I feel bad for keeping this from you for so long, but,” you sigh, fidgeting with the hem of your t-shirt, “I’m a…virgin.” You finally look in his eyes, clenching your jaw. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire, ears ringing loudly it almost drowns out your heart beat.

His lips part, eyes widening at your words. Deafening silence falls upon you like a tidal wave and you feel the embarrassment rush in. “Fuck,” you whisper, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything I…I’m just gonna go.” You quickly scramble to your feet, grabbing your sweater from off of his bedroom floor. Maybe those voices in your head were right. Why would a man like Kento want anything to do with an inexperienced girl like you, compared to a woman who would know how to please him, give him a what he wants.

Just as you were about to walk out his bedroom, you feel a tug at your arm pulling you back until you hit his broad chest. “Where are you going?” He asked, looking at you. “I never said to leave, sweetheart.” He walks you back over to the bed, taking your sweater from your hands and placing it on the back of his chair. You sit on the edge of the bed, anxiously waiting for the next words to leave his mouth. Eyes follow his every movement, watching the way he walks over to you and kneels down in front you, grabbing your hands in his. “Look at me.” And you do, eventually, meet his gaze. “What’s wrong?”

You find it hard to speak, to even get a peep out. Nerves are shot and it feels like your stomach is twisting in knots. “I just thought that—”

“That I’d be upset you’re a virgin?” He asked, putting it all out there. You nodded your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “Sweetheart,” he chuckles, flashing a smile at you, “you’re too cute for your own good.” He caresses your cheek. “No wonder you’ve been so nervous each time we’ve made out.” He licks his lips, taking a deep breath in before speaking again, “listen, we don’t have to rush into anything. You should’ve just told me, but I understand your feelings.”

You blink a couple of times, your heart rate finally drops, feeling more comfortable with the situation. It felt like a huge weight was lifted off of your shoulders, and even more importantly, you were glad Nanami took it so well. “But, I am ready.” You look away from him.

“What?” His brows furrowed, confusion written on his face.

“I’ve been ready, just been scared, nervous…I don’t know.” You shrug, your voice getting quieter with each word you say.

His hand comes up to your cheek, gently cupping it as he directs your gaze back towards him for the millionth time. “Are you asking me to be your first?” He asks in such a gentle tone, eyes carrying a look of adoration in them. Sheepishly, you nod.

“Always wanted it to be you, Ken. You’re so kind to me, and so patient,” you admit.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he coos, “I’d love nothing more than to be your first.” He kisses the top of your hand, soft lip pressing against your skin as he stares into your eyes. “We’ll go at your pace, yeah?” He smirks.

Everything in you is telling you to pounce on this man and go at it like animals with how he was treating you. It only made him a hundred more times attractive than he already was. Your lips find his as you both fall back onto the bed, resuming the make out session from minutes ago, only this time it’ll actually lead somewhere. The kisses felt more feverish, more passionate, something that’d you been craving this entire time.

“Can I take your clothes off?” He asked, placing a kiss to your jaw. “I’ll take mine off too.”

“Yeah.” You nod, feeling his hands tug at the hem of your shirt. The fabric slipped over your head, your first instinct was to cover your chest, feeling completely vulnerable in this position. His hands carefully undid your pants, pulling them down along with your panties, discarding the items of clothing on the wood floor. You covered yourself up, shutting your legs and holding your chest.

As you watched him get undressed, your eyes landed upon the obvious tent in his shorts, leaving you turned on. His body seemed liked it was carved from the gods, toned biceps, shredded six pack. He looked like he could just easily toss you around, put in whatever position he wanted. Not to mention, you could see how big he was through his boxers, your nerves starting to wrack up again as you began to wonder if it’d even fit. And once he pulled them down, your eyes widened and worry flooded your face.

Nanami let out a light laugh at the look on your face. “What’s the matter?” He asked, rubbing his hands over your thighs.

“Do you think it’ll fit? It’s just…really big, Ken.” Your eyes couldn’t help but wander. He was thick, and slightly long, which is reasonable excuse for your worry.

“It might hurt a little, sweetheart, but that’s why I need to prepare you, yeah? Make it feel good for my sweet girl. Now, don’t hide yourself from me, okay? I wanna see all of you, praise all of you.” He leaned over, kissing your lips again, trailing down further with each one. His hands replaced yours, gently groping your tits, squeezing them in his hands. “Such soft and pretty tits.” He kissed each one. “Can I suck on them? I promise you it’ll feel good.”

Once he gets your approval, he wastes no time, his lips latching onto your hard nipple, hot tongue swirling around the bud. His eyes fluttered shut, a muffled moan escaping his lips. Your hands find themselves in his hair, little pants and whimpers leaving your lips at the foreign sensation. His other hand pulls at your nipple, rolling it between his fingers as he gets lost in thought. He pulls his head up, hazy eyes staring back at you. “Doing okay, baby?” He asks.

“Yes, please keep going.” You bite down on your bottom lip, earning a smile from his as he moves over to your other nipple, tip of his tongue circling over the sensitive skin before taking it in his mouth, suckling on it. “Mmm, Ken,” you whimper, tugging at his hair.

“Feeling good?” He places kisses all over your tits, his touches so gentle. You buck your hips up towards him, grinding against him. “I’ll take that as a yes. You’re feeling needy, aren’t you, baby? Go on, you can tell me.” The flat of his tongue lays against your nipple again, slowly licking, teasing you.

You bring your hand up to your face, covering it, too embarrassed to look at him, to let him hear you. But with each flick of his tongue more whimpers spill out of you, overflowing. His warm lips press kisses to your sternum, traveling down towards your stomach, getting lower and lower until you jolt up. “What…what are you doing?” You ask, dumbly. It was clear what his intentions were with his mouth just inches away from your cunt.

“Just sit back and relax.” He caresses your side. “Open up for me, wanna get a taste,” he murmurs. He gently pushes your thighs open, scooting lower on the bed. His mouth slightly parts, eyes gravitating towards your wet cunt. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re already so wet,” he chuckles, looking up at you. He rests his head against your thighs, lips kissing your skin, worshipping you, savoring you. He plans to tease you as much as possible, he wants you ready.

You body twitches when you feel his fingers ghost over your throbbing cunt, light touches making you yearn for something you’ve never even had before. He kisses down your thighs and towards your pussy, pausing when he finally reaches. He looks up at you for approval and when you scoot your hips closer towards him with the cutest whimper, he dips his head down between your legs and presses the slowest kisses on your clit. The way you gasp makes him smirk, he wonders how you’ll sound when he uses his tongue.

Finally, you feel the flat of his hot tongue dip between your soaked folds, pushing its way up your slit and finding your clit. You sit up on your elbows, brows furrowing in pleasure as Nanami wraps your his arms around your thighs, holding your hips in place. He moans against you, pulling you closer towards him as he starves for more of your taste.

He flicks his tongue across your clit, his chin coated in your juices before he moves his tongue lower, tongue fucking you. You bite down on your plump lower lip, quietly moaning while your eyes watch his every movement, like you were studying him. His tongue slithers back to your clit, circling it before he gently sucks on it. “Hah, fuck,” you gasp, your hand instinctively reaching for his blonde locks of hair.

He lifts his head, licking his lips to not waste any drop of you. “Hey, pretty girl, can we try something?” His voice is gentle, a sense of security in it. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” The pad of his thumb rubs your clit in circles, his other hand caresses your thigh. “Wanna try fingering you while I eat this pretty pussy, get you ready for me,” he explains.

You gulp, nervously looking down at his hands. “Will it hurt as much?” You ask.

“Might hurt a little, but it’ll help. I’ll make you feel good, baby. I never wanna hurt you.” He sits up, moving closer towards you.

You nod slowly, “okay,” you meekly say. Nanami, wraps his arms around your waist, hoisting your leg around him as you both lay on your sides.

“You ready?” He asks, kissing your cheek, his fingers rubbing your slick over your entrance and back over your clit, trying to get you prepared. “Just gonna do one finger for now until you want more,” he whispers into your ear. Slowly, he slides his thick digit into your entrance and you immediately let out a pained sigh. He removes his finger, pressing another kiss to you cheek. “Take your time, baby. You’re okay. Hold on to me if it gets too much.” He continues rubbing your clit in slow circles until you give him the nod of approval to try again.

He pushes his finger past your folds, feeling your walls clench around him as he goes inch by inch. “Mmm.” Your eyes screw shut as you cling onto his broad shoulders, feeling the sting of the stretch. He finally gets it all the way through and you’re panting, clawing at his skin.

“You’re alright, sweetheart,” he reassures. “Hey, look at me,” he grabs your face in his direction, “it’s okay.” He kisses your lips as you whimper against his. “I’m gonna start moving my hand now.” You hold onto him tighter, the burn making you wince as he pulls his hand back and pushes his finger back in, slightly gaining in speed.

You can’t seem to look away from him, melting into his touch as the pain slowly turned to pleasure, feeling your body accept him just like you wanted this entire time. He presses his forehead against yours, bodies pressed up against one another as you fight back the urge to kiss him until you’re breathless. Your hips rock into his hand, following his movements. “Want more,” you whimper, nodding at him.

“Want more, pretty? Yeah?” He pecks your lips, carefully sliding his ring finger into your entrance. You whine at the stretch, taking in a deep breath when you feel his fingers curl up, repeatedly hitting your g-spot. Your cunt squelches around his fingers, sucking them in. “You’re doing such a good job,” he whispers, working fingers faster until you’re a moaning mess.

Wet kisses make their way down your neck, moving lower down to your chest as he repositions himself at the end up of the bed, fingers still curling inside you. He pushes one of your legs back, eyes intently watching the way your pussy takes his fingers so well. Without warning, the flat of his tongue presses down your swollen clit. “Oh fuck!” You gasp, gripping at the sheets below you. Your body shivers with pleasure, the sensation of his tongue and fingers sending you to cloud nine.

Your head falls back on the pillow, eyes rolling back, legs threatening to close around his head. He slurps your pussy, tongue working its way through your folds to get every last drop. He’s moaning at your taste, breathing heavily through his nose. His hand pushes your leg back farther, nearly up to your chest, as he works hard to drive that orgasm out of you. “Ah! Oh my gosh!” You cry out, clutching at his hair, pushing his head down when he sucks on your sensitive clit once more. “Ken, baby, I think—fuck!” You squeal, rocking your hips on his face. Your legs close around his head as your orgasm arrives, body quivering, and every touch is heightened. That doesn’t stop Nanami, low eyes watching how prettily your back arches off the bed, your walls squeezing his fingers. “Hah! Ah! Yes!” You moan.

Nanami finally lifts his head, chest heaving up and down as he looks at you with the most love in his eyes. “Fuck, baby, you did so good. Come here.” He rushes to plant his lips on yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His dick is throbbing, oozing pre from the tip just from watching you cum. “You alright?” He asks, petting your cheek.

“I’m okay.” You nod. “Thank you.” The sweetest smile spreads across your face, one that makes his chest fill with warmth. “But, I think I’m finally ready.” You look down towards where you two meet, only inches away from one another.

“You sure? We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I want you to be comfortable,” he says softly.

“I promise I am. Just…go slow,” anxiousness riddled your tone.

“Of course. Let me know at any time if you wanna stop.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. The nerves build in your chest, and your stomach fills with butterflies. He repositions his hips, rubbing his length through your folds, smearing his precum. He lightly groans, slowly moving up and down, nudging your clit with each thrust. Nanami notices you watching, he can see you’re still nervous. “Baby, look at me, okay. It’s gonna be fine.” He gently grabs your face, staring into your eyes before his fat tip pushes its way through your folds. Your eyebrows raise in surprise before furrowing. He goes as slow as possible before removing himself, letting you take a breather.

You spread your legs further before another attempt, wrapping your arms around his neck. He pushes into you again, inch by inch you feel the stretch, the stinging sensation making you grit your teeth. “Ah!” You bury your face in his neck, when you feel his hips finally meet with yours.

Tears fall down your cheeks, and he’s quick to kiss them away. “I know it hurts, sweetheart. Let’s stay like this for a minute.” He wipes your tears, massaging your thighs as you try to accustom to his size. “Gonna start moving now.” He pulls his hips back, his length coated in a mix of your juices and slight blood. “Oh, your bleeding baby.” He looks at you with the most empathetic expression.

“Mmmph, sorry, I’m sorry.” A wave of embarrassment washes over you as it came to mind that it was most likely on his sheets.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. It’s completely normal.” He kisses your lips as he pushes his hips against your again, the head of his cock grazing over a sweet spot deep inside you that you didn’t even know existed. “I’m so proud of you, you know that?Hah, my sweet, sweet girl—fuck,” he breathily chuckles. And now he’s moving faster, wrapping your legs around his waist, clinging onto him like you never want to let go. “So fucking tight,” he grunts.

You feel so full of him, like he was made for you. His dick dragging along your walls, his hands holding you close, wrapping around you as he whispers praises in your ear in the most sweetest voice. Your eyes roll back, nails leaving marks on his skin, your toes pointed. He’s fucking you into the mattress, but being oh so gentle about it. “It feels so good,” you mewl as he fucks you deep, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust.

“This pussy was made for me baby—oh shit—taking me so fucking well. You feel so fucking good,” he moans. He presses into you, each thrust sending your mind spiraling as shivers run down your spine, your body covered in sweat. Nanami squeezes you tightly, kissing your neck, and nibbling at the skin.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” It feels like your breath is being sucked out of you, your heart beating rapidly against your ribcage. “Gonna cum!” You cry out. “Hah—yes, yes!” He keeps the same rhythm, tip of his dick kissing your cervix before your shaking under him.

He holds you tightly, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours, staring into your eyes as you cum around his dick. Your hands cup his face, searching his eyes. “That’s my girl, let it all out,” he says. He can feel you clenching down on him, the feeling making his dick throb harder. “Always be my good girl, right baby?” He asks. And all you can do is nod, when he starts fucking you faster, almost like he’s grown feral. “It’s good that you know because I’m about to fuck you like you aren’t.” He pushes your knees to your chest, lifting your hips slightly so that he reaches the deepest parts of you. “Nngh, fuck!” He grunts.

“Ken! Oh fuck, fuck!” You squeeze your eyes shut, the bed rocking and creaking with each other his hard thrusts. A hand clasps over your mouth in a weak attempt to muffle your screams of pleasure.

“Pussy feels so good, sweetheart. Can’t get enough—fuck—I’m sorry,” he heavily pants. Strands of blonde hair cling to his forehead, eyes fixated on watching his dick disappears in and out of you, your pussy creaming around him, leaving a white ring around the base. He can feel you clenching down on him again, your nails leaving crescent marks in his forearms as you’re cumming for a third time tonight, barely able to form words. “Atta girl. Look so pretty cumming on my cock,” he smirks.

Your back arches into him, legs quivering as he thrusts grow sloppier and sloppier. “Nnngh, shit,” he moans. “Gonna make me cum—ah!” His brows furrow as he fucks you harder, a primal feeling rises in him as he thinks of cumming inside of you for the first time ever. “Baby,” he says with desperation, “baby, let me cum inside you.” A rosy red spreads across his cheeks as he stares into your eyes.

Your arms reach out to him, dragging him down for kiss, legs locking around his waist as you push him closer to you. Nanami groans into the kiss and you swallow every last one as his seed fills you up, coating your walls. He slowly fucks you, making sure to get every last drop of his cum in you before pulling out.

“Oh my god, sweetheart,” he chuckles, a glint in his eyes. You laugh with him before he rolls both of you over, you now on top of him. He caresses your cheek and you melt into his hand, a blissful sigh leaving your lips. “You did absolutely amazing.” He smiles. “You doing okay, though?” He wonders, fingertips tracing patters on the small of your back.

“Yeah,” you nod, closing your eyes shut, “I’m doing great actually.” You smile. You rest your head on his chest. “Thank you, Ken.”

“No, thank you. I’m glad that you trusted me to be your first, honestly. It means a lot to me.” He kisses the crown of your head. “You’ll always be my girl.” He continues tracing your skin.

“Really?” You ask, lifting your head to look at him. “Promise me?” You pout, batting your lashes.

“I promise.” A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, his thumb rubbing over your bottom lips before you press a kiss to it. He chuckles at the small gesture. “Let’s get in the shower, together, yeah? Maybe order some food? You deserve it.”

[targaryenluvs]

DELICATE

pairings: dark!coriolanus snow x innocent!wife!reader

warnings: erm we’re back at it with another dark corio! possessiveness, literal murder, threats, vulgarity, nc touching -dumbification/babying, emotional manipulation and vulnerability, sexual undertones and thoughts, ownership?? NOT PROOFREAD

summary: coriolanus had to marry. lucky for him one of the most eligible girls of the capitol was up for grabs. only problem? he hoped his cold exterior would keep her away but nothing broke her sweet spirit. what happens when he finds himself being drawn to her light? and how far was he willing to go to keep it untainted and all to himself?

word count: 2.09k words

a/n: i swear i can only think of dark ideas for him because he is practically crayz - i loved this concept tho so enjoyyyy - annoyed i can’t find any post-lucy gifs snd i’ve already used the other one help me plz

taglist: @sleepydang @aspieundercover @darktrashsoulbear @3lliesrifle @rafeysbafey @zejjef @themorriganisamonster @cryfordemie @winterblu2 @earthangel-111 @taylarxse @alexameliamg @katastrophic04 @jjggdfvvy @joshwifeyslaymamaballs @10ava01 @kis9na @princessdaella @princessloveweird @prettybiching @justacaliforniandreamer @bxtchopolis @witchafterz @har-rison-s

PART TWO

coriolanus wanted nothing more than a relaxing night. he’d been at a campaign meeting for about four hours and he’d gotten absolutely nothing out of it.

he was in the right mind to fire them all and work it himself but he knew he couldn’t. all he wanted was to go home, have a bath drawn for him, eat dinner with you and go to sleep.

coriolanus had seen a number of weird things in his life but nothing was weirder than seeing you, hanging up the laundry to dry. you’d stopped him in his tracks but hadn’t yet noticed his presence as you hummed to yourself and went about your business. after staring in confusion for a few minutes he cleared his throat, “y/n. what are you doing?” you turned towards him with a smile, “it’s christmas! so i sent the staff home for the rest of the day so they could be with their families. don’t worry i had them prepare your bath, dinner and everything else. there were some things left to do so i thought, why not do them myself? i cleaned my room and yours, ironed the previous batch of laundry and placed them away, dusted the library and i was hanging up the laundry until you showed!” you beamed as you continued to hang the clothing.

coriolanus took a seat on one of the lawn chairs as you continued. he decided to watch you, to make sure you were okay. because who on earth wants to do laundry? that was the very reason you had so many servants. but here you were.

“you can head inside corio, no need to wait for me!” you said sweetly. coriolanus was a strong man, always rational. but god when you spoke so sweetly to him- no. “there’s no need, i’ll wait till you’re done.”

the sun was hanging low as the last rays illuminated the dining room. you’d set out candles, flowers and other pieces on the table. back home you loved setting the table, until your father would reprimand you for doing something you didn’t need to. what will people say if my daughter is acting as a servant?

but right now you felt at ease.

you had a good life. good friends which were rare to find in the capitol. good family and a good husband. he was proper, took care of you in every way, even if he didn’t love you, you were grateful to be married to someone you liked. admired. you’d heard whispers of corio’s childhood, his depleted resources and poor upbringing. but you couldn’t care less. he was more of a man than anyone you knew. and he was extremely pretty, your parents would’ve probably married you off to whomever they thought would help with social standings so this match? a lifeline.

coriolanus kept himself in check. he was up for presidency, his name and wealth restored and he was respected and feared. you were a diamond in the rough. whilst all the other girls in the capitol were, special, to say the least, you weren’t like them. first of all, he could tolerate you. like you even. you were exceptionally smart, well-read and spoken, respectful of those worthy but even those beneath you. you were kind, not the fake kind of the capitol. kind to everyone, helping everyone however you could.

and to him it was more than perfect. someone kind would be easy to have, easy to be married to. he knew from the second he saw you as marriage material that you’d never endanger those around you. you cared, enough to put your happiness to the back of the line. you’d be easy to control. after the wedding he expected you to be clingy, desperate for his love and affection. as any girl would from their husband, but you kept your distance. you didn’t push yourself on him, you did your duty. you did what was required and more. but you always listened, listened to him.

so he assumed you’d be easy to be married to, but he was always in awe of you. your sweet smiles every time you passed eachother in the halls, in the morning at breakfast and at night for dinner. always catering to him.

“what should i wear?” “you can choose.” “you tell me.” “it’s your choice.” and god did it inflate his ego. you were always asking about him, how his day was, what he did, who he saw etc. but it wasn’t just small talk, you were always listening. absorbing his words like a sponge, wide eyes, head nodding along dumbly. he loved it. and over the year he found himself, caring, on the inside at least.

every time you’d go out there were hungry eyes consuming you. your face, body everything. and he wanted to personally pluck out each eyeball and feed it to their families. so again, overtime, he’d shield you, protect you. his sweet wife who knew nothing of what the others wanted to do to her. a hand on your back, an arm around your waist, a peck on your forehead and his large red coat around you. all for show right?

he wanted to puke.

the smell of cabbage wafted to his nose and he was oh so close to putting this fist through the wall. who on earth-

you were humming, again. “corio!” your voice was music to his ears, corio, no one said it to him anymore. not even tigris. but he only liked, only wanted it to come from you. “dinner is served, some of your favourites are here. i asked tigris what you use to eat as a kid. ooh, you never told me you liked cabbage, me too! guess that’s another thing we have in common.” you beamed as you walked over with a bottle of wine, “tell me when to stop.”

he eyed you up the entire time. trying to catch a fleck of disgust whilst you ate, andddd, nothing. you weren’t lying, you actually liked it. he swallowed his own fear and began to eat.

“mm, i was wondering what you wanted me to wear tonight? i’d like to match corio, if that’s okay with you.” corio smiled slightly, “i would like to match. i have something i would like you to wear tonight sweetheart.” your eyes darted forwards as the word fell, sweetheart.

you couldn’t help the smile that came to your face, he only used terms like that in public. and based on his reaction afterwards, of which there was none, it meant that he probably didn’t even realise. or he did, you could never read him.

the red dress did things to coriolanus. the idea of you in it has his head spinning, but to actually see you in it? he wanted to throw you onto his bed and never let you out.

but to you it looked as if he was studying the dress rather than looking at you in it. “you look good.” you grinned, “thank you corio! i love your suit, you look very handsome.” you straightened his suit as he looked over your shoulder, your back was bare. “do you have a throw?” you quickly nodded and picked it up from the dresser. “good.” you already got a million stares in ordinary clothing, tonight was going to test his patience and anger.

the gala was gorgeous. for once there wasn’t ugly statues and weird color matches. a clean and pristine white hall, chandeliers, gold accents.

your heels clicked on the floor as coriolanus held his arm for you. “your hand please.” corio stared, waiting for your further explanation. “when we link arms your arm is too high for me. i end up with my arm at my neck.” you laughed as he lent his hand, which you gladly took.

stares and compliments at every corner of the room, everyone was looking at you two. the future president and first lady of panem. a match made in the capitol. you and coriolanus made the rounds, talking to present sponsors, potential sponsors and other candidates, much to coriolanus’s distaste. after a while you realised you were sort of just standing there, so you excused yourself for a drink and a closer view of the band.

“you look, ravishing.” charles operman. a sight which no one wanted to see, but to you he was just an ex-peer of the academy. “charles! thank you, corio picked it out for me.” you’d missed the way his jaw clenched at the mention of your husband, but you were to engrossed by the angelic singer and band. “you know, i always thought we’d end up together.”

the abruptness of his sentence had you choking on your drink, “excuse me, i’m married charles. i’m sorry if you thought that we would be together, i see you as a friend. i’d hate to lose a friend.” you smiled as he got uncomfortably closer and leaned into your ear, hand on your bare back.

coriolanus’s grip on his cup was tightening as he listened to lucky drone on and on. he wanted to see the life leave charles’s eyes, maybe his head would make as a nice present for you. “excuse me.” he nodded his head as he placed his cup on a passing waiters tray. you were helpless, and he was here to help you.

his breath was hot in your ear and you could smell the liquor on him as he was grabbed from you. “coriolanus, sir.” charles mocked salute as coriolanus stared at him, maybe he thought if he stared long enough hed burn into the floor. coriolanus rarely smiled, but this one was unsettling to say the least.

“if you ever put your hands on my wife, look at her, speak to her. it will be the last time you do so. i might just call in a favor with dr gaul, i hear your fond of snakes?” charles’s eyes widened, he hated snakes. he couldn’t even watch the 10th hunger games, the second he saw the snakes he ran to the bathroom and hurled.

“when i become president, you better keep yourself in line. it’d be horrible to see your family in the games no?” charles took a step back, “you can’t do that, i’m capitol.” coriolanus drew back,

“you won’t be for long.”

you couldn’t believe your eyes, of course he’d protect you but, threatening? he’d never do it right? the shutters of cameras had you reaching for corio, “can we leave my love?” coriolanus turned to you, “of course sweetheart.”

he’d stayed up for a long time. a smile came to his face when he remembered the sound of charles’s neck snapping. the door creaking open revealed a disheveled you, “corio? are you awake?” he sat up as you released a breath.

“what is it y/n?” you took a shy step forward, “i uhm, i can’t stop thinking about charles. he scared me, i didn’t know what to do corio. i-” you couldn’t stop the tears from falling as coriolanus swiftly got out of bed, helping you into his bed. “i- can i sleep here tonight? please?”

this was definitely not how he first expected to have you in his bed, but how could he say no to you? your hair in its braid, messy and lose, puffy eyes and tear stained face. he wished he’d first seen you cry underneath him but he’d take what he could get. what he didn’t expect was for him to like this, the scene of you crying, needing him. he was the one who could help you, console you, coddle you.

coriolanus nodded as he moved back to the bed, tucking himself and you in softy, caressing your hair and kissing your forehead. god he’d held out for so long, denied himself and his feelings but having you in his arms was all he could ever want, but the idea of being in you flooded his head.

would you cry like this? would you shout and scream? did you like it soft and sweet? he couldn’t be soft and sweet, he’d savour the moment but he loved the idea of unravelling you, he’d be the only one to see you like this, him being the only one to make it happen.

you curled into his chest, like a baby. your soft cries and whimpers went straight to his crotch and soon enough you were asleep.

his sweetheart, his delicate little wife.

corios hand slipped downwards and into your pants, he promised himself he just wanted to feel but god you made it difficult. he saved you tonight, didn’t he deserve a reward? didn’t matter if you detested he had you where he liked. so he slowly rolled over and placed you on the bed.

your eyes fluttered at the change of placement but he couldn’t care less. he was done waiting.

you squirmed underneath him in your sleep but his worries faded away.

[alexthetrashyracoon]

Simon grinned at himself through the mirror like a stupid teenager in the changing room as Price, god bless this man and his father figure behavior, tugged on his tie to keep it straight and clean.

Wedding Day had come. His wedding day had come.

“Mate, you must be shakin’ with excitement to marry the pretty face.” Gaz grinned from his spot on the couch, all three of them dressed in their best attire. Even Soap hadn’t complained once about wearing a tie.

Simon’s mind wandered to you in the other room, he hadn’t seen you since last night, tradition, that’s what they called it.

He hoped you were having a blast, because you had to spend so many days and nights over the wedding plans that he had to get you to the hospital once after you broke down from exhaustion.

“Anyone ever thought big bad ol’ Ghost gets married?” Soap teased as he rummaged through the drawers at the desk. What exactly was he searching? Simon didn’t know or maybe he was too happy to question his best friend’s motives for now, they usually end in chaos and today was meant no chaos.

“I always believed Simon would find the one true love one day.” Price nodded and patted Simon’s chest, telling him he was done with the tie.

“Liar.” Gaz laughed and shook his head. “If you want to know who always believed in you, Lieutenant, that’s me. Ol’ Captain and MacTavish over here said you would die a virgin. We got a bet running for a while.”

Simon wasn’t even surprised or mad, maybe tomorrow, or the week after. But tonight he wanted to be on Cloud Nine and looking through the pink tinted glasses of love. Tonight he would say ‘yes’ to the person he loved the most, the one that kept him alive and sane and put up with his antics.

“I’m getting married.” He smiled at himself in the mirror.

“You’re getting married, son.” Price looked at him, through the mirror, a proud smile hidden under the beard.

A minute later his phone rang, your name and picture on the screen.

“Yes? Everything alright, darling?” Simon asked and looked at Price, worry flashing behind his brown eyes.

“I’m scared, Simon. I… I know this will sound crazy and you probably think I’m mad. But… I wanna run away.” You say, followed by a shaky breath. “But at the same time I don’t wanna run away but stay and marry you. Does it make sense?”

Simon relaxed immediately, you were nervous, as you should be. Just like him.

“How about this then, darling, we run away together until you know what you want.” He grinned and picked up his suit jacket.

Soap and Gaz were gasping at him.

“Let’s run away together and if you still feel like running, we blew off this party. And if not, we come back, say yes to each other tonight and live our happily ever after.”

Gaz asked if he was insane. Soap was looking between Simon and Price, who simply had the time of his life while opening the door for Simon to leave.

“Are you sure… do you… I mean…?” You started to ramble and mutter under your breath.

“Darling… For you I would go through hell and back. I am not complete without you anymore. There was a time before you, sure. But there will be no time after you. Together.” Simon spoke gently and could see through the phone who your cheeks turned pink and tears pricked your eyes. “I’ll be out in two minutes, don’t let me wait.”

(Spoiler, in the end Simon and you got married surrounded by friends and family. Price lost a bet to Laswell because they both know you two and knew you would pull such a stunt. Soap had gained a few more grey hairs than necessary and Gaz was pretty sure this was some kind of punishment, why else would you two pull something like that.)

[salemlunaa]

☀︎ YOU’RE NOT BEING PRODUCTIVE, YOU’RE LAZY AND AFRAID ☀︎

And this will cost you a lot of time that could be spent with your desires…

You have all the information, why aren’t you applying. You tell me you have been in this community for 6 months, a year, 2 years+, but how many of those days you’ve spent in this community have you actually applied, how many of those nights did you actually apply and don’t just fall asleep after 5 seconds.

And i know why you’re lazy, it’s because you’re scared, you’re scared of inducing process, whether it be success or failure. You make yourself busy with scripts and subliminals, “i’ll script this really cool thing first”, “i’ll scroll a little on tumblr first” “lemme just look at the success story hashtag before i do it, it really motivates me” You try and distract your self, you delude yourself into thinking you’re being productive but really you don’t want to, if you wanted to you wouldn’t be here and I will ALWAYS stand by that. You put it off until the last minute and then when it “doesn’t work” you run back to tumblr acting like you actually did anything.

a really good analogy from @archsariel333 - “you buy the pens, the notebook, you plan for the book you’re going to write but, you never write it”

“let me just add this one thing to the plan”, “let me look at inspo for book covers and art styles for illustration”, “let me go to my book writers group on tumblr and see if they have anymore advice for me even tho i know how to write a fucking book”

I know it’s comforting and validating to be in the “waiting period”, the period of anticipation. You want to go shopping for a vacation, pack your suitcase, look at reviews on social media, plan the pics you’re going to take, but getting on the actual plane can be scary, you ask yourself “what if they deny my boarding pass”, “what if i fail to make it on time”, “what if im not eligible to fly for whatever reason”, you don’t want to leave your comforting circumstances and even the trip itself scares you just a little, so you cope by buying all the vacation outfits in the world, saving inspo pics into a pinterest board, looking at vlogs of other people going to that place. You can’t bring yourself to get on the fucking plane.

You need to apply, and properly, 2024 is almost over, the amount of weeks we have left isn’t even in the double digits anymore, I don’t want you to make it to the end of this DECADE still keeping the tumblr “foryou” page company, watching people coming and going feeling paralysed as people who came here later than you pass you by. I know the feeling sucks but whose fault is that?

I want you to scrap the amount you’ve been here. Since you’re the operant power right? I don’t care how many weeks, months, years you’ve been here, scrap it, you’re going to start afresh and you’re going to actually apply, when you have the time, you’re not going to go back to your notes app, notion or pinterest to script some more, you’re going to apply.

A lot of you have the knowledge that majority of the world doesn’t and time on your hands, do you know how powerful and extremely fortunate you are, to have time AND knowledge? i don’t think alot of you understand how much of a privilege that is you are unstoppable yet you stop yourself out of fear that you will “fail” to tap into the void and let yourself down. You are so privileged to know what you know and to have the time to apply it, so do it, your not gonna scroll on tiktok for a few more minutes or shove a million subliminals down your throat to “prep yourself” you’re just going to take a breath and do it. Induce pure consciousness, and if you fall asleep scrap that assumption and do it again.

Look at your life right now, do you honestly like it, do you like envying others for having what you can have at the snap of your fingers. Do you like the life you are living?

I want you to tell yourself that you will not be the reason for your own demise. you will NOT be the reason that it’s 2026,27,28 and so on and you don’t have what you want.

please just go and apply, i don’t even know you guys and it hurts watching you kill time when you could’ve had everything a day ago, an hour ago heck even 5 minutes ago.

apply apply apply, don’t let this feeling be the reason you “fail” 💋🍑

[bloatedandalone04]

TikTok Trends

➪the one where drew is a little clueless in regards to your love for tiktok, and even more confused every time he finds himself thrown into another trend.

Warnings: fluff, swearing, drew being confused for 90% of this, mentions of smut, size difference, slightly younger reader (3 year age gap), there was going to be smut, but i am saving it for another fic.

Word Count: 3.2k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Drew was laying on the king sized bed he shared with you, his sweatpant covered legs crossed as he lounged back on both his pillows and one of yours. His phone was in one of his hands, his thumb scrolling through the latest game results he missed last night when he was too busy fucking you into this very bed. 

He was oblivious to the way you were rummaging around in the dresser, though his eyes would occasionally flicker over to you as he scrolled. Tonight was date night, and he knew you would take a lot longer to get ready than he would, so he was staying in his sweats and hoodie until you were ready since he’d just throw something on and then be out the door within the same minute. You were being awfully quiet, and Drew was also oblivious to the way you had propped your phone up behind a picture frame, just out of view.

Drew’s free hand ran through his hair, his recent haircut making his scalp feel a little itchy, but he wasn’t complaining, because this haircut was what had you begging him to fuck you every night this week, so clearly it was working for you. 

“Hey, babe,” he murmured, not looking up from his phone. “Where do you want to go tonight? Anywhere you want, I don’t care, I just want to know if I should call in beforehand.”

You bit your lip as you adjusted your phone, your eyes shining with mischief as you moved away from the dresser. “I’m not sure,” you answered as you walked into the closet and grabbed the dark blue dress you were planning on wearing tonight. “Haven’t really thought about it.”

You had to hide your smile as you walked back into the bedroom and set the dress down on the bed next to Drew’s legs, and you had to ignore just how sexy he looked right now as you glanced over at your phone. 

Drew had never been one to be very active on social media in the two years you’ve been with him, so you knew for a fact that he would have no clue what you were about to spring on him. 

Reaching for the hem of your shirt, you bunched the material in your fingers before pausing, “Hey, baby,” you laughed, poking his knee as you swayed a bit on your feet. When Drew just let out a grunt, you continued, “Can you leave for a few minutes while I get dressed? I’ll be quick.”

You watched as Drew’s eyes flickered all over his phone’s screen before he hummed, moving to sit up. Just as his legs swung over the side of the bed, he seemed to have finally fully processed your words, because his eyes narrowed before he looked over at you. “Wait, what?” 

A laugh threatened to escape your mouth, but you managed to compose yourself before he could realize this was yet another trend he was currently being forced into. “Can you, like, get out for a sec? I need to get ready for tonight,” you asked again, gesturing to your shirt and sweats. 

One of his brows raised and he glanced down at your current outfit before looking over at your dress. “Uh, why?” he asked, sounding so genuinely confused, you almost cackled. “We live together, baby. I’ve seen you naked, like…a million times now.” 

You covered your mouth and crossed your arm over your chest as you tried to keep this going for as long as you could. “Just…please?”

Drew’s brows furrowed as he locked then set his phone down on the bed beside him, his fingers brushing against your thigh. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, reaching for your hand. His voice was so deep but so sweet right now, you felt yourself caving in already. “Tell me, baby.”

“It’s nothing,” you say, but your voice sounded unconvincing even to you. “I just don’t want you in here while I get changed.”

Drew narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the pillows once again, clearly making no move to get up and leave. “Babe, come on,” he mumbled, giving you a pointed look as you tried to keep up the act for a little longer, but he was the actor, not you. “We’ve lived together for half a year now. I’ve seen you take off clothes in front of me more times than I can count. What’s so different now?”

You had a sneaking suspicion that he was catching on, and you knew the act was pretty much up. Still, you tried to go for a little longer, “There’s no difference…” you trailed off, then saw the look of realization flash in his pretty blue eyes. 

“Oh, I get it,” he muttered, a smirk tugging at his mouth as he looked up at you. “This is another TikTok thing, isn’t it?” 

You furrowed your brows and shook your head, but he had caught you. “No,”

Drew grunted and nodded his head, “Uh huh, where’s your phone?” he asked, glancing around the bedroom as you tried to think of a way to salvage your prank. 

“It’s not a TikTok thing-”

“Come on, where is it?” he cut you off, his tone light and relieved as he now knew that nothing was wrong and this was just him falling for another trend going around on an app he didn’t even have installed. 

With a huff, you nodded towards the dresser, and Drew shifted a bit so he could see your well-hidden phone behind the picture frame. 

“I fucking knew it,” he laughed, rubbing his hands over his face as he leaned back again. “Why do I keep falling for these things?”

“Because you’re old and refuse to use social media,” you mumbled, reaching for your phone and ending the video. 

He scoffed from behind you, reaching over to wrap his hand around one of your thighs. “I’m only three years older than you, brat,” he muttered, pulling you towards him. “I’m not nearly old enough for you to call me that.” 

“Three and a half,” you hummed, your attention quickly slipping from your phone as you let him turn you around and pull you to stand in between his legs. Your free hand caressed his jaw, his stubble pricking your fingertips as you gazed down at him, “Can’t forget the half.”

Drew hummed, leaning in to press his face against the front of your shirt. “Mm, right,” he rasped, leaning back on the bed and pulling you with him so you are straddling his waist. “Can’t forget the half.”

You dropped your phone onto the bed next to his, both devices quickly being forgotten about as you braced your hands flat on the sheets on either side of his head, your lips finding his in a deep kiss that quickly turned into something a lot more heated. 

-

“You’re not doing it right,” you whined, pushing your boyfriend away from you as you walked towards your phone to restart the recording. 

After finding a trend that would actually involve Drew participating in it, you decided to give him a break from all the prank trends you pull on him and asked if he wanted to try this couple trend you saw all over your for you page. Surprisingly enough, he agreed to. You assumed he was probably tired of falling for the pranks all the time, so this way he could be fully aware of what was happening. 

With that being said, even though he was an amazing actor, he fucking sucked at following directions. 

“What do you mean I’m not doing it right?” he asked, holding his arms out as he watched you set your phone back up against the TV stand. “I’m picking you up, am I not? Is that not what I’m supposed to do here?”

You rolled your eyes and bit back a laugh as you stood back up straight and moved towards him. “No, you’re supposed to flip me upside down,” you said, “Did you even watch the video I sent you?” 

“I watch all the videos you send me,” he mumbled, glancing over at your phone before stepping closer to you. “Just tell me what to do, okay?”

You grinned and moved to stand in front of him, and you reached behind you to take Drew’s wrists in your hands. “Just hold me here,” you instructed, placing his big hands on your hips as you both faced the camera. “Then lift me and turn me upside down.” 

“That’s it?” he asked, giving your hips a teasing squeeze as he dipped his head down and pressed a firm kiss to your temple. “What if I drop you?”

You look over your shoulder at him and raise your brow, “Well, don’t,”

Drew laughed, the deep sound rumbling against your back as you looked at your phone. “Alright, ready?” he asked, and you nodded. Drew bent his knees slightly, ensuring he had a good grip on you, before he straightened back up again and easily lifted you off the ground. 

That was the easy part though, but after a few seconds, he managed to turn you upside down so your legs were by his shoulders and your head was by his knees. “Yay, baby!” you squealed, holding onto his arms tightly as he dangled you above the floor. 

Drew let out another deep laugh as he held you securely in place, his arms wrapped protectively around your waist. “Is this it?” 

“Yes,” you answer, helplessly swaying in his hold as you look at your phone from your upside down angle. “I hope it turned out well. I don’t want to do this again.”

“Why not?” Drew asked, locking his arms around your thighs as he swayed you even more, making another quiet squeal leave your lips. “Now that I know what to do, this is easy.” 

Your grip tightened on his arms as you held on for dear life, a soft whine escaping your mouth. “Drew,”

He laughed and stilled before managing to guide your legs down until you were upright again. “Alright,” he grinned, steadying you with his hands on your waist. “Are we good?”

You nodded and leaned into his touch for a few seconds before moving away to grab your phone. After ending the video, you clicked on it to make sure it came out okay, and as you did so, Drew came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“How’d it turn out?” he murmured, resting his chin on your shoulder as he glanced down at your phone as well. 

“Good,” you answered, playing the video and watching with a dumb smile on your face as your boyfriend effortlessly picked you up and managed to do the trend rather successfully. Turning your head, you pressed a quick kiss to his chin, “Thank you.”

Drew hummed, kissing you properly as his hands splayed across your belly. “‘Course,” he mumbled, kissing you again before looking back down at your phone. “You look so small, baby. Send that to me.”

You grinned and nodded as he stepped away from you and towards the doorway. “You could see it on my TikTok if you actually had the app,” you pointed out as you sat down on the couch. 

“Not happening,” he called over his shoulder before giving you a teasing smirk and leaving the room. 

As you watched the video again and matched it up with the song it would go with, you bit down on your lip, because Drew looked really hot in it, and it was extremely obvious how fit and strong he is since he lifted you up with ease. 

You could only imagine all the comments you’d get, and all of them would be girls thirsting over your boyfriend. 

-

The ‘calling your boyfriend friend names’ prank was all that was currently on your for you page on your TikTok, and you knew after watching the first one that you were going to do it to Drew. 

Your poor, unsuspecting boy who was really never safe as long as you had access to the app, or any app for that matter, because he was just too easy.

Drew was laying back on the bed, one arm propped behind his head as he browsed through various movies on Netflix, his gaze fixated on the TV that was mounted on the wall above the dresser. 

He looked so focused as he tried to find something to watch, and you knew he was looking for something that you would like since you and he had very different tastes when it came to movies. You almost felt bad for what you were about to do. 

Almost. 

“Dude, just pick a movie already,” you laughed from your spot on your side of the bed, discreetly angling your phone to capture his entire upper body without making it look obvious. 

Drew’s head turned in your direction, one of his brows raising as his thumb paused on the remote. “I’m trying to,” he muttered, squinting his eyes at you, “Dude.”

You held in your snort and shook your head, looking back up at the TV. “I don’t care what we watch, man,” you mumbled and felt him shift next to you, but you kept your eyes locked on the screen. “Just pick something.”

The remote was set down on the bed between your body and his, and when you glanced up at him, he was softly glaring at you, “I will, once you call me by my actual name instead of dude or man,” 

You actually laughed, but this one fit in well, “Okay, Drew,”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he groaned, moving towards you and dropping his head to your chest. He presses his face against your cleavage as you reach over and prop your phone up on the nightstand. “Call me what you always call me.”

You grinned as you draped your arms around his shoulders. “Aw, buddy,” 

Drew’s head had never snapped up faster than it did when you said that. “Why are you calling me that?” he asked, placing his hands flat against the bed on either side of your hips as he pushed himself back up so he was kneeling beside your still reclined form. “Baby, what’s going on?”

You pressed your lips together as you reached up and cradled his pretty face in your hands. “Nothing,” you answered, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. 

Drew gave you a skeptical look before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. His big hands found your hips as he deepened it, his tongue brushing against yours, and you returned his kiss like you always do. “Are you sure?” he murmured against your mouth, and you knew your knees would’ve buckled if you were standing up from how deep and sexy his voice is. 

But you couldn’t think about that right now, and you realized you would have to edit that intense kiss out of the video so TikTok didn’t flag you, which would suck. “I’m sure,” you confirmed, then fucked with him further, “Everything’s all good, pal.”

Drew gave you a look of disbelief as he pulled away and sat back on his knees again. “Pal? Did you seriously just call me pal?” he gaped at you, his brows drawn together in confusion and something that looked a lot like betrayal. “Babe, what the fuck did I do? I know you’re mad at me, you keep calling me all these random names. Tell me what I did.”

You laughed and shook your head, pushing yourself up so you were sitting in front of him. “You didn’t do anything, Drew,” you assured him, but could tell that your words had very little effect on him. “I promise.”

His eyes narrowed as he glared at you, moving back to his original spot on his side of the bed. “Then stop calling me dude or pal,” he muttered, picking the remote back up and lifting his arm so you could cuddle against his side. 

You actually did snort this time as you crawled over to him, “Okay, bro,” you mumbled as you slid under his arm, but as soon as the name left your lips, Drew was standing up from the bed and looking down at you with his hands on his hips. 

“Bro? Bro?” he echoed, “No, something is definitely wrong here. What is happening right now, Y/n? Are you breaking up with me or something?”

You let out a loud laugh as you rolled onto your side. “No,” you answered, shaking your head as you looked up at him. “I’m not breaking up with you, Drew. Why would I do that?”

He sounded a bit desperate now as he braced one knee on the edge of the bed and asked, “Then why are you calling me dude and bro and pal? You’ve never called me those names before,” he rambled, “That’s what you call a friend, baby, not your boyfriend.”

“I know,” you said, propping yourself up on your elbows as you looked up at him, and after getting another look at his handsome, yet so obviously confused face, you caved. “That’s what the prank is, babe. I call you names I’d call a friend.”

Drew’s brows furrowed, then he was looking around the bed for your phone, and when he glanced at the nightstand, he let out a loud groan. “Oh for fucks sake,” he grunted, rubbing his hands over his face as you laughed and moved to retrieve your phone. “I thought we were breaking up or something. Why do I keep falling for this shit?” 

You shrugged, “I don’t know. Guys are just so easy,” you answered, “And unless you cheat on me or something, I’m never breaking up with you.”

Drew dropped his hands to his sides as he joined you back on the bed. “And I’m never cheating on you,” he rasped, straddling your thighs as he placed his hands on your waist. “But how many more times are you going to do this to me? This one was fucked up.”

You laughed as you ended the recording, then gasped when you felt how hot his skin was. “Drew,” you say with wide eyes, “You’re, like…sweating.”

“I know I am,” he said, his fingers pushing up your shirt as his hands ran along the skin of your stomach. “I told you, I thought you were breaking up with me. I was panicking.” 

You smiled up at him, letting him take your phone from you and toss it onto the end of the bed. “I would never,” you promised, and Drew wrapped his fingers around your wrists, guiding your hands up to rest on his chest as he gazed down at you with an intense stare. 

“Good,” he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against yours, and it was clear that the hunt for a movie to watch was now postponed. His eyes were even darker when he pulled away, his nose bumping gently against yours. “I love you.”

You whimpered quietly as you slid your hands up into his hair. “I love you too,” 

Then he was pressing himself against you completely, and soon enough, you were sweating too.