felixferitas

[felixferitas]

YELLOWJACKETS | 1.03 | 2.07 |

[felixferitas]

incredibly slow + hiatus for the foreseeable future because i'm job hunting and just got the flu / covid shot double whammy

[felixferitas]

@ourpretender @signetied

Niles vs C.C. 5/? ↳ 2x15 Kindervelt Days

[felixferitas]

contrary to joe's assumption, felix doesn't have a rod up his ass and could even acknowledge that he was quite funny. endearing, really. it's not like he's wrong either, considering felix hadn't even given him his famous tour and shown him the duvet with henry viii's spunk on it. the acknowledgement that he was just venetia's sidething surprises him however, a studded brow raising inquisitively along with the dimpled corners of his mouth. "you're ridiculous," felix tells him, shaking his head. he's well aware that actually, the circumstances in which the cattons lived were kind of ridiculous — but it was old news to felix, tawdry and gauche. the hideous fucking reubens, the twenty thousand pound tapestries and chintz, he can't be assed. felix flushes, because he hadn't actually meant to give that much away, gnawing at his bottom lip because now he's certain anything that flies out of his mouth will seem silly. especially with this background. he doesn't like being dismissed, and while felix is warming up to joe, he doesn't trust joe enough to actually confide anything of meaning to him yet. "er, yeah. forget it. my mum's kind of anal retentive about facial hair, stubble — she gets freaked out by that kind of thing. don't go walking around the place after having just gone for a swim, either, she doesn't like it when things get all wet." he blinks, thinking better of it. "but it's relaxed." a bold-faced lie if there ever was one, but felix has given joe a hard enough time as it is.

he's fairly surprised by the tonal shift — the scrutinizing aggression softening with slippery argument, the tilted grin that follows and its waning guard. but joe won't forgo good opportunity, so in between the casual warnings, he scoffs — playful and lighthearted like they deserve. "'ancestral home' — don't gotta make it sound more important than it already is! m' already waitin' to spill sum' thousand dollar wine o'er sum' rug older than the feckin' church. christ, bet i'd be charged by the hour jus' breathin' in 18th century dust or summin' if i wasn't venetia's side thing." it's ridiculous enough that he laughs himself, shaking his head silly from the surrealist lifestyle before him. in the grand scheme of things, felix is comparatively normal — as average as one can be once born with a golden spoon; pretentious in his own way, and the sort to prickle when things don't go his way, but joe won't hold that against him. (they're similar in that sense.) his eyes trace the fidget of felix's hands, an arched brow lifting with the words that mumble forth. joe idles with a tap, tap, tap against the surface. "what's she got to scrutinize? — yer' hair ain't combed right? you've — what — drank 'em dry wit' the flat whites?"

[felixferitas]

@petitsdieu sent: 📺 watch horror movies together

even though he was a vicious scaredy-cat, there was something about horror that appealed to felix. maybe because he was a hothouse flower who had little reason for fear in his own gossamer life, but he digresses. red food dye 40 colored cornsyrup that mums of today could fearmonger about on it's lonesome coupled with the universal fear that you never entirely knew your neighbors — these themes were compelling enough to overlook the curdled milk feeling he got in his stomach whenever watching gratuitously gorey scenes. stanley kubrick's adaptation of the shining is playing on the big screen in the library, hiding his face behind the peak of hara's shoulder because jack nicholson has freaked him out ever since he was a boy. in non-film roles, too. something about those menacing eyebrows. "oh, minks, i don't know if i can make it all the way through this one. why couldn't we have just fucking put on superbad? just looking at michael cera's mug makes me laugh." as opposed to the discomfort he's feeling now. if it still held hara's attention though, he'd tough it out and suffer through jack nicholson's stupid eyebrows for a while longer.

[felixferitas]

This too shall pass but like holy fuck

[felixferitas]

unfiltered and incriminating convos with @ourpretender

[felixferitas]

𝐂𝐎𝐙𝐘 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐌𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 (a collection of cozy autumn-themed prompts.)  

Send one of the following emojis for our muses to:

🎃 carve pumpkins together

🍁 go to a pumpkin patch

🍬 go trick or treating

🧛‍♂️ go to a costume party

📺 watch horror movies together

🌽 do a corn maze

🌾 go on a hayride

🍎 go apple-picking

☕ go on a coffee date

🐎 go on a horseback ride

🍄 go to a farmer's market

🌰 have a fall picnic

🥧 bake autumn treats together (pumpkin pie, cookies...)

🍂 take a walk in the woods to look at the leaves

📖 read books while it rains outside

⛺ go camping (and tell ghost stories by the campfire)

👻 decorate the house for Halloween

[felixferitas]

felix's lips thin in annoyance, brows furrowing. joe's adamant on continuing to antagonize him, it seemed, but at least felix can be thankful he's not being disgustingly crass anymore. doubtful it'll last, but for the moment he can be appreciative. he glares at joe over his flat white, taking a sip as he braces himself for more senseless jabber. but to his dismay, joe's actually making sense. in a rare moment of clarity, felix recognizes that he might have been needlessly harsh on joe. he probably doesn't know any better, and it's not like felix had much notice about his presence at saltburn over the course of the summer, otherwise felix might've tried to clue him in on the necessary ettiquette to blend in with his family. something to help him not stick out like a sore thumb. "doesn't matter. maybe i am taking this more seriously, more personally than i ought to. but whatever, that says more about me than it does about you. you are, after all, only staying at my ancestral home." felix offers him a polite close-lipped smile. shifting tactics, opting to kill him with kindness — or at least lull joe into a false sense of security. it really was less about joe and perhaps more about felix. he always feels stressed out and overwhelmed whenever he returns from a term at oxford, when really one would think it'd be the other way around. "just forget it. and consider yourself lucky, i suppose, because if mum's not scrutinizing you she'll be focusing on me." he takes another sip of his flatwhite before setting it down, fingers absentmindedly stroking over his chin. good — his stubble hasn't grown back yet.

felix's blatant irritation is largely amusing — the bristling more entertaining than it is insulting — but the nagging (and it is nagging) strains each scoff that bubbles to the surface. one would think that without a family and without any solid shelter, that there'd be nothing and no one to pressure him; educate him with a pointed index and a stern look. venetia doesn't rise to the occasion — and although her father seems less enthused by joe's presence, even he cares little to shoulder responsibility. that felix does, is laughable. "jesus — who else is reelin' o'er this huh? yer' mom put you up to this? or this is all you?" his shoulders are propped up, roughened palms sat against the counter as he smoulders, creased brows angled in mild annoyance. "must be all you, 'cause no one else gives a shit. venetia doesn't. yer' parents don't. you really care this much 'bout — feckin' — stiff behaviour? bein' all — proper n' shit?"

[felixferitas]

felix doesn't consider himself a snob, and in fact, he pales in comparison to some of his peers at webbe. their difference in social status isn't what grates at felix, it's the lack of respect. joe may be venetia's boytoy of the summer, but he was still a fucking houseguest. if he thinks he only has to stay in venetia's good graces for things to be hunky dory, joe's sorely mistaken. "oh for fucks sake. fine, just don't turn your head." predictably, joe doesn't move when he asks and felix heaves a sigh before momentarily crowding him up against the counter to nab his ceramic mug from the cabinet, retreating afterwards. he doesn't bother closing the cabinet because he doesn't trust himself not to slam it on joe's head, especially with the incendiary comments coming out of the other boy's mouth. he busies himself with the espresso machine, gnawing at the inside of his cheek before whirling back around. "i'm not pissed you accepted the invitation, i'm pissed you accepted when you don't know how to behave yourself. this isn't a fucking inn. and i'm predicting you're only going to get worse instead of better, 'cos you seem real contrite over your actions thus far." a tired hand scrubs at his face, hairy knuckles digging into his eyesockets like he can rub his frustration alongside the sight of joe away. felix isn't sure there's a point in giving voice to further complaints. he's sure more will arise as the summer drags on. gods, he needs a vacation away from his vacation — that's never a good sign of things to come. with any luck, farleigh will be on his side and felix will have little interaction with joe going further.

venetia's brother is a right cunt. figures, that. her parents are passive about things within the family and then overt and blunt when they're addressing the outskirts — but it's rather easy to avoid them either way. they're almost relieved when joe arrives, intrigued — certainly — (the questions rush in like an interrogation or a fucking job interview) until the inquisitions give way to disinterest. venetia tells him that this is a good thing; that to be further intertwined with the dysfunction, with their cold-blooded affection, is fatal in the long run. he doesn't question it. and he's pretty good at ignoring the signs, waving off the red flags, shouldering away the judgment — save for felix. his exasperation almost wails, discomfort so palpable that it's almost funny, but when the heat boils over, joe scoffs, a lazy arm still tucked into worn out sweats. "christ, someone's got a feckin' rod up their ass." predictably, he doesn't move. "so what, yer' pissed at me for acceptin' the invitation? — i didn't force her to bring me 'ere. not my fault she likes me." a smug little sneer pulls onto his features then, right cheek lifting then with the rising irritation. "she likes me a whole lot. you've seen it 'nyway."

[felixferitas]

felix is sure that with the way they left things, precarious and open ended, that oliver thinks felix was happy to be rid of him for a while. that was more or less true in the immediate aftermath, but felix ended up mourning their friendship, the loss of something that was probably nothing more than a farce to begin with. it was funny how oliver had managed to alter his brain chemistry the same as any drug, could manage to have felix excusing the most irrational of behavior — be it oliver's or his own. entertaining the thought of accepting oliver back into the fold of his life was just as harmful, as fucking reckless and as stupid as one can get. felix is cognizant of this. especially because oliver turned out to be so much more than what he seemed. addiction was a slippery slope. felix rolls his eyes, throwing his head back against the mirror with a light 'thunk' that sounds more painful than it actually is, regarding oliver with a petulant little look. "christ, you're so fucking morose. anyone would think you were the one who'd gone several rounds with the staff at a rehab centre." his delivery needed work, but he thinks the meat and potatoes of what felix is saying rings true. he had more reason to be sullenly doing lines in a bathroom than oliver, unless this was the manifestation of remorse that he wasn't privy to. the only way he could make it through the day, perhaps. he clears his throat, heat rising to his cheeks as he rubs the knots out of his neck, gaze flitting from the powder white of the lines to the icy blue of oliver's eyes. temptation begets temptation. "ready to laugh about it, yeah. ready to move on," felix follows up, gnawing at the swell of his bottom lip. that was the thing about grief, however big or small — you couldn't sit in a pristine room untouched by time licking your wounds indefinitely. the genuine compliments bring even more of a flush to his cheeks, the air between them prickling with awkwardness because felix isn't sure how to receive it. especially if it's to be believed that oliver loves him. compliments between mates weren't anything to sweat, but they weren't even that anymore, were they? he hums, going back and forth on whether or not he should dignify oliver's question with a response. felix hops down from his lofty perch, gently elbowing oliver out of the way as he bends down to plug one nostril to snort the line, sniffing as he straightens back up and holds oliver gaze with a beatific dimpled grin. "i was." that was only a years worth of progress down the tubes. he barks a laugh, disbelieving, even though he was the one who'd made that impulsive decision. maybe now he might see some recognizable human emotion on oliver's face, some contrition. "just like breaking a fast, isn't it?" this was going to hit him like a mac truck after giving his liver so many vacation days.

one year of arguable distance sounds short on paper, but at nineteen, at twenty, at twenty-one, it really isn't. it's three-hundred-and-sixty-five days of barely-there conversation, of stewing, of fixating on the what-ifs and the unwinnable circumstances placed before him, of new plans amidst old plans, of daydreaming, of thinking and feeling and dying and dying and dying and dying again. oliver smokes a lot in these months, the shoulders across his wardrobe trailing with them the scent of nicotine and ash, but — if he's capable of it — in between the claustrophobic swirl of heavy need, there is on occasion, an unexpected calm. limbs outstretched, floating on the surface of still water; his weightless body in the midst of a jump; almost flying, almost soaring. comfort underneath the mania, perhaps. and this particular feeling is exacerbated when oliver is high — he learns this on accident, after gnawing the nail along his thumb until it aches. a new habit, an addiction not too dissimilar to the one he still possesses, something like love, like lust, like need. (it seems poetic either way, to gorge on something inherently connected to felix, and juggle it playful, after utilizing its name and reputation to kill off the people in his head. his fictional father goes first, his fictional mother caught up in its cycle. now oliver himself, real and solid.) together, both sources feed into him like a drip. even the bitterness of annabel's sympathy and felix's bark brings him a sense of familiarity. he smacks his lips. "are you?" oliver's attention drops to the jump of felix's knee, tired eyes however big and wide zeroing in on restless habit. he makes it harder than it should, makes the reunion more complicated, more sadistic, but the obsessive tendencies linger. the influence felix has had on him lies in plain sight, oliver remade and brand new. "...you look good. genuinely. better than ever." he coughs into his forearm, then turns to peer down at a neat, glaring line. hesitating. the effect felix has on him is worse than the coke. oliver swallows around nothing, peeking up and over to lively brown eyes. "...you're clean?" (though he knows the answer, he asks anyway.)

[felixferitas]

her remark about it having been too long hadn't escaped his notice, but credited to his temperament or his upbringing felix thought it'd be better not to broach the subject. despite his fickle nature and oscillating fancying of her and annabel, his intention isn't to hurt her. in felix's mind, they're having fun, and he doesn't want to make a fool of himself by making assumptions — doesn't dare hope that india wants more from him than what he's currently providing. but he daydreams about the far-off future all the same, a reality where india is lady of the house and free to decorate the estate with chintz or even more hideous fucking rubens, to which felix doesn't complain because he's so far gone on her. they are still so very young, and they've all the time in the world to figure it out, to figure each other out.

this earns an amused grin and shake of his head, endeared that india even bothers to ask. it might as well be a rhetorical question. "you know damn well it's not. hell would have to freeze over before i come banging 'round your door for coke money. was thinking more along the lines of taking you home for the night," he supplies, on the off-chance his interest hadn't been obvious enough — just being in india's proximity was enough to have him sporting a half-chub more often than not. even if felix wasn't a man of means, he thinks he'd still find the concept of india asking to pay for her share of the drugs unconscionable, a conflicting value system considering his bohemian lifestyle. he barks a laugh, eyes curving up into fond crescents as he leans in to place a playful kiss to the soft dip of her chin. "i hate to be the one to tell you this, but you're jumping from one pervert to the next if you mean to make me your dealer," felix drawls, studded brow raising, the lighthearted humor on his face leaving as soon as she repositions his hands lower on her body, replaced with palpable hunger.

all blood rushes south, leaving him dizzy and wanting, groping the outside of her thighs as his fingertips trace the elastic of her panties. he's discombobulated and subdued by the weight of his arousal, but felix is thrown further off-kilter by her question. his mouth goes dry. "i don't. not with every tom, dick, and harry at least," he murmurs, and although felix has a follow-up statement, a name and a face in mind, he's reluctant to voice it. would india feel insulted if he said there was a distinction, feel like even more of a possession? the thought of oliver between her thighs instead of him doesn't repulse him or curdle the contents of his stomach the way it would with other men. "i don't know. i feel that if i must share you, sharing you with someone i trust would breed less resentment. if you're giving me a choice." he-who-must-not-be-named would likely be watching this interaction if he had a say in the matter, but felix isn't even certain that's what she's asking, and if the moment is ruined, he's hoping someone will inform his dick. his fingers slide under the elastic to tug them further down her legs, palms grabbing her glutes to set her down on the lid of the toilet before he drops to his knees, his gaze dark and mouth audacious. "are you? giving me a choice?" india has her methods of getting her way, undoubtedly, but felix has his as well and with every tease of his lips, ghosts of kisses alongside the soft skin of her thighs he makes this known. he licks the seam of his lips before burying his face between the part of her thighs, hands settling on the dip of her waist to hold her steady as his tongue drags along her folds. felix prides himself on being a magnanimous gentleman in public but in private with all pretense to the wayside, he's unabashed in his pursuit to reduce india to a puddle of baser needs, jaw straining with effort as he slurps on her clit.

she melts into their kiss with ease, every ounce of tension leaving her when he dips her head back. she wants to moan and she almost does, her body heating the second his tongue comes into play. it's been too long. india has already alluded to such in their earlier conversation however, so she stays quiet. neediness was the ultimate turn-off, but didn't he feel it too? the overwhelming urge to consume one another. to commit forbidden acts in public places. didn't he ever just miss.... her? she attempts to ignore the dizzying effects of their kiss when they pull apart. to pretend his mere presence didn't alter her brain chemistry or send her hormones spiralling after just one intimate interaction. perhaps the cocaine will help, or at least, take the edge off her frustration. like many times before, she succeeds in stifling her sighs, composing herself as though she hadn't been waiting for this moment all evening. felix produces the drug and she smiles up at him, starry eyed prior to the rush of adrenaline. he holds the key to her nose and she sniffs, eyes closing over to absorb the hit. it's a small amount, but it suffices, working to sober her from the light haziness of the prosecco. she waits patiently on him to take some of his own and put it away, leaning back against the stall, where she raises her thigh to his hip. "i've got money back at my dorm, if it's cash you're after?" india answers his question with a smirk, guiding her high heeled jimmy choo to rub playfully up his calf. "pretty sure my dealer's a pervert so i've been looking elsewhere." not that coke was her priority by any means. she just didn't tend to cope very well with the high levels of pressure without it. her gaze is soon brought back to his eyes, delicious pools of dark brown, both his hands gently holding her face as though she's something precious. for felix, she would be anything he asked. mould herself to fit whatever ideal he desired. under his gaze, she feels microscopic in nature, as though he's studying her. did he like what was underneath the surface? what resided beneath all of the beauty? would he ever care to delve deeper? "what if i don't like sharing?" it's a question that she's been running from, a question that passes from her lips without warning. one she doesn't intend to ask until it's already too late. his palms are comforting, fingertips grazing her temple, as she reaches for them. "do you ---" gently, she removes fee's hands from her face, repositioning one of them below her dress, to the stretch of skin where her thigh is still raised upon his hip. "do you like sharing me?" there's a part of her that's afraid to know the answer and a greater part of her that's worried she's ruining the moment. her mind is racing, her heart pounding even faster, but all she can think about is his weight against her. she's a little breathless, hands massaging his chest, smoothing over the ralph lauren shirt he's wearing. what is it you really want? her breath is hot on his lips, arousal pulsing at her core because if the roles were reversed, she'd tell him that he's all she ever fucking wants.

[felixferitas]

cont.

felix is walking the straight and narrow now, straight-edge and straighter than he's ever been, if you asked him. which isn't entirely true, because the temptation to succumb to his impulses are always there. he tries to shut those thoughts out, replace them with something wholesome and productive to fill that void when all felix wants to do is forget what happened. with sun beaming down on them, bare skin skimming against thistles in the field and several rivetting games of tennis, it felt like nothing bad could go wrong that summer. aside from falling asleep in the sun and getting more of a scalding tan than expected, maybe. the fact that felix almost had the lights shut on him forever feels surreal, to say the least, and nobody really knows how to talk to him anymore. they walk on eggshells, handle him with kid-gloves because they assume felix made an attempt of some sort. which is why it's jarring and puzzling to see oliver still using, rubbing cocaine into pink healthy gums. felix is concerned, to put it mildly. he's never had much social grace or awareness to begin with, so felix can't really fault him for that when there's plenty of other things to fault him for. one small push, one suggestion from oliver and felix thinks he'd relapse in a heartbeat. he clears his throat, using his gangly limbs to hop up on the bathroom counter to laze about there, a watchful gaze settling over oliver and the lines of cocaine. "no, she didn't. still doesn't. but she said she'd quit drinking, if it'd help with my recovery." an out of character selfless offer from annabel, but felix had persuaded her out of it, because she should live her life without concern for felix's demons. it was a kind offer but felix is pretty sure his demon is 5"8' and speaks with a scouse accent, hiding his wickedness with a veneer of meekness. a wolf pretending to be a lost little lamb. "you look well. are you ready to laugh about it now?" felix asks with a coy tilt of his head, bouncing his legs restlessly. his fingers twitch, jonesing for a cigarette -- another habit that took months to quit.

[felixferitas]

killing myself tomorrow btw ...

[felixferitas]

SCENES FROM A MARRIAGE | 🫦 LUST Felix & Oliver · Saltburn (2023) dir. Emerald Fennell

[felixferitas]

a boyish, gap-toothed grin appears on his face when she swats his arm, his eyes curving up into amused crescents. it hadn't been his intention to make light of something she was passionate about, but felix did like to pull pigtails and play a game of cat and mouse when he was attracted to someone. the chase was half of the fun. "no, it just comes naturally to me, i'm afraid," felix quips back, studded brow raising along with his lips. their playful flirtation brings heat to his cheeks, heart skipping a few beats. india was so fun to be around, sassy and charismatic. he found her very different from annabel, who was clingy, possessive, and snobbish. or if india was in fact possessive, she'd been careful not to let felix see that side of her yet. "yeah? i'd love for you to read to me. might actually help my attention span," he murmurs. felix typically liked to call the shots, but for some indiscernible reason he didn't mind having india boss him around. it was kind of hot, if he was being honest. so he does as asked and waits an inconspicuous amount of time before getting up to follow her to the bathroom to slip into their designated stall. if anyone happened to notice felix catton enter the ladies restroom, it's doubtful anything will be said nor done about it. his lofty name aside, they were just overwhelmed college students blowing off steam. from one of the most prestigious universities in the world, no less. felix feels they're entitled to. when he opens the unlatched stall door, his breath leaves him for a moment because she looks effortlessly stunning, as always. felix smiles into the kiss when she tells him she missed him, one large palm resting at the pinch of her waist while the other threads fingers into her dark locks of hair. he sucks at the swell of her bottom lip, tilting her head back for easier access as his tongue traces the seam of her lips, a fervid exploration. india tastes like prosecco and felix probably has lipstick on his teeth but he couldn't give a rats ass about that right now, not with india right in front of him, spontaneous and fun and accepting. he grins, pulling out a white ziploc baggie with the coke along with a key for her to snort it off of. "and how do you plan on doing that?" felix asks, tone sultry and suggestive as he opens the bag to place some of the powder on the key, raising it to her nose like a true gentleman. "but don't sweat it, you know i like to share." he was supporting his cousin's cocaine habit as well, after all. felix waits for her to take her bump before pouring a little more powder on the key and blocking one nostril to inhale it. it enters his bloodstream fairly fast, and afterwards he pockets the paraphernalia, cupping india's face in his hands to lose himself in those doe eyes of hers -- pupils more blown than ever. was it purely the cocaine, or arousal?

the swat to the arm arrives not when he comments on her chest, but when he jokingly critiques her choice of literature. india took reading seriously. to the brunette, it was a form of self care and a gateway to pleasure. her studies required a ridiculous amount of concentration, so whenever she had the chance to take a break from it all, the fantasy genre was often the perfect companion to get lost in. "have you made it your personal mission to be an arse to me today or!?" she can't help the laughter that follows after playfully scolding him. neither of them held any real contempt in their taunts. it was all for fun. just like the rest of their relationship. a bloody tease. "if you must know, i'm reading stardust by neil gaiman." in india's opinion, his storytelling was far superior to j.k. rowling's. "and if it's a compelling plot you're after, i'll let you borrow it when i'm done. i might even read some of it to you next time you find yourself falling into my bed."

[ sms: fee <3 ] yes pls. wait 2 mins before u follow x

after the text is sent, she stands up from her position at the table and heads towards the ladies toilets. it's not the first time that they've done this, but it is the first time in a long while that she's suggested it. the last cubicle on the left is the one india usually reserves for their rendezvous. be it for taking drugs or sharing other private moments, it's the place felix knows to look for her. she waits quietly for him to enter, slipping inside and leaving the latch unlocked 'til he arrives. there's no doubt that it's reckless behaviour, but she took no greater pleasure in anything else. hiding away, escaping with felix, partaking in forbidden acts was almost as addictive as the cocaine. applying a fresh layer of lipstick, she swipes the matte red across her lower lip and puckers it onto her top. fingertips then ruffle through her long locks, brushing out the waves of her loose curls. you say jump.... his sentiments echo as she applies a quick spritz of eau de toilette to her cleavage and soon, he's in front of her, sneaking into the confined space. i say how high. she wonders if he truly means it. if he wants to be here as much as she wants him to. a selfish thought for a selfish girl.

soft hands reach out to him regardless, fingers curling around his neck to gently pull him closer. "i missed you, by the way." india confesses, opting for transparency in spite of their collective teasing torments. brown eyes gaze up at him with unabashed adoration. a nervous laugh passes and then, black lashes flutter close while she stretches up to kiss him. she doesn't fully know what the status of his relationship with annabel is. if they're together or not. at this moment, she doesn't care either. perhaps that makes her an awful person and a terrible friend. so be it. the kiss is exactly what she needs it to be. tender, warm, erotic yet innocent in nature. a subtle kind of foreplay considering they're both about to misbehave. pulling back, her hand rests against his cheek where gentle strokes are applied to his jaw. "you're also a fucking lifesaver. i'm running low but i'll pay you back, promise."