#this is downright gorgeous holy fuck

[raitonsfw]

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: | 1 | Gojo wanted to make you a mommy more than anything in the world... and he was fucking determined. | 2 | You couldn't even begin to fathom the feeling of Gojo's blindfold shielding you from existence, his hand tracing up your spine and you knew he wasn't going to make this easy for you.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader... | 1 | breeding kink, husband!gojo, positions (doggy style, missionary, over his shoulders), many creampies, dirty talk, praising, begging, slight fingering, body worship, p in v intercourse (obvi), rough sex, feral!gojo, talks of having his children, petnames (mama, babe) lord i have sinned cuz this downright filthy... | 2 | blindfolded reader, bondage, doggy style, fingering, p in v intercourse, dirty talk, teasing, cockdrunk!reader, rough sex, praising, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, good girl), mentions of riding and switching positions.

a/n: | 1 | i was posessed writing this one, i swear- wc: 600ish. | 2 | i think i'll make this thirst a staple, think we need to see more of reader wearing his blindfold... wc: 600ish. v-day list | m.list

thirst count: 2

divider credit: @hitobaby & @firefly-graphics

| 1 |

“So good for me… yeah that’s it, mama.” Gojo praised, patting the side of your leg with oomph as you whimpered out his name. He had your legs high in the air, over the mounds of his broad shoulders and you could barely see straight, the entirety of your brain mush as he drilled into you– his cock ramming up against your cervix every time he managed a deep thrust. 

Which was every time, mind you.

Gojo had you in so many positions already; doggy had by far been the best for you, your moans muffled by the sheets you were thrown against and you arched your back through every thrust. It was heaven sent, you felt as his hands groped at your thighs, your waist, your ass. But he was indecisive– that fucker, and he wanted to see your face as he shot his third load into you so he flipped you over. His other two had dripped out of you and he cursed under his breath when he noticed, his fingers trying to plug it back up into you. 

“Fuck…! –got my dick in a chokehold babe...” He groaned out, his voice breaking at the end of it and you tilted your head back into the feather of the pillows beneath you. He was being absolutely ruthless with you and you couldn’t help but clench around him every time he plunged into you roughly– it made him feral, his bright eyes wide with desire.

“Your body’s so fucking perfect–” He breathed out as your hips started to meet with his own, his eyes rolling back slightly and his love laced words slipped off his tongue with ease. Your breasts bounced prettily on your chest and your back had arched back up towards him, your tummy poking out slightly– which fed his urges. “Need you carrying my kid… Gotta see how sexy you’d look– how fucking gorgeous…”

Your mind short circuited, practically screaming out for him to breed you because, holy fuck that’s all you ever wanted in your lifetime– a kid, his kid. You wanted nothing more than to carry his child, a bond so strong no one would ever threaten to break it and you cried out in ecstasy as he glided his tongue against yours. He swallowed your pleads, rutting into you with pure purpose now and all you wanted him to do was fill you up– again and again and–

“God yes– you wanna have my children, hm…?” Gojo teased in between thrusts, your body trembling as your orgasm crept up your spine. “Can’t get it out of your head huh, with your pussy squeezing me like a vice– shit…! I’ll make you a mama if you ask nicely.”

“Please, Satoru..! Need it–” You babbled, too worked up to care about anything else– you needed his cum painting your cervix white, nothing could sway you out of this now as you yearned out his name over and over. 

“That’s right, beg for it.” 

And you did, with utmost obedience. Your vision became fuzzy, tiny bursts of color surrounding it as you felt your release harrowing through your body. Gojo’s thrusts faltered, stalled within you and a deep groan filled your ear as he pressed down onto you– trying to bury himself inside of you as he came. He held you against him with his moans panting out against your neck as he lazily rolled his hips into you, fucking his cum as deep as it could go. 

“T-Think I’ll stay inside you for a while..wouldn’t want this batch dripping out of you too.” He muttered into your skin as he caught his breath, planting kisses down towards your collarbone. A broad hand laid against your tummy as you reveled in his touch, relaxing into the feeling of being close and full– so full still it made you shiver with anticipation because…

“Think she’ll take after her momma?” 

| 2 |

You wished you had the dexterity of his six eyes; you couldn’t see shit through his blindfold as you zeroed in on the shifting behind you against the bed.

Gojo had you pinned, your wrists tied delicately together as your as tilted up against his pelvis. His hands ran down your thighs, spreading them apart with a simple motion and you could already feel the cold air against your exposed cunt. It wasn’t the best position for you– you wanted to see Gojo, you longed for his beauty inside and out. But at the same time, this thrilled you immensely. 

The thought of his blindfold holding you hostage and maybe one of his old ones tied against your wrist – you couldn’t tell – but it was intoxicating to say the least. That he’d go to the lengths of letting you wear it, letting you wear something so sacred to him, to the abundance of his entirety. At that moment, you felt his fingers swipe through your arousal and you whined out in frustration. 

“Patience, baby. Don’t gotta wait too long– I got you.” Gojo hummed, plunging two fingers in simultaneously and you keened into it. “Arch some more for me– let me see that pretty pussy, hm?”

And you did the best you could, fucking yourself back on his fingers in the process; you were pleased with yourself when you heard his breath hitch behind you. And the precious sound of his clothes shuffling around his knees. God, you were so drunk for his cock– your entire cunt was dripping for it, messing the sides of your thighs. 

You whined out again, not realizing how close he was to you. You jumped slightly at the sound of his voice against the shell of your ear. “You’re not very patient. Here, this feel better?” Gojo pressed the crown of his cock against your entrance and a sharp gasp fell from your lips, mixing with his own groan. “Ah– Of course it does... Ass up, sweetheart.”

His hands gripped the sides of your waist, positioning himself at just the right angle to fuck into you. Gojo didn’t give you a chance to breathe, to even slide yourself wider on the bed to take him– he just fucking sunk right in with no remorse and hoped you wouldn’t break underneath him. As he stretched you out, you couldn’t help but moan out his name and clench around him as he bottomed out. 

“That’s it, princess. Go on, take my cock.” He huffed out, thrusting into you roughly and you laxed from the pleasure that coursed through your pussy as his cock dragged deliciously against the warmth of your walls. He filled you up so nicely in this position and it took everything in him to not just manhandle you– to not just straight up hold you against him and rut into you. 

You could hear nothing but his harsh pants and the wet squelching of your cunt being abused and it fucking turned you on more than it should’ve– his blindfold brought so much more of your other senses that it nearly drove you wild each time his hips snapped into you. His hands roamed each and every crevice of your skin as he leaned over you, pressing his chest flush with your back. 

“Such a good girl… sucks you can’t see me, huh? Betcha reallly want to.” Gojo panted in your ear, kissing behind it with a quiet groan overtaking him when you inadvertently squeezed around him– his voice just caught you so off guard, your senses totally obscured and you couldn’t help it. 

“Next time, we can switch– you’ll ride me while I’m tied up, yeah? I’ll even close my eyes for you, level the playing field a bit…”

[fleurrreads]

pretty little rich girl

pairings: benny cross x fem!reader

warnings: some unwanted comments, bit of angst, happy ending(?)

author's note: based on this request! honestly don't know how i feel about this one, i might write more for them in the future.

Benny has seen many girls in his lifetime, but none of them have downright turned his world upside down. Until he met you. It was supposed to be just another night at the bar, until you walked in. All pretty in a little dress, pearls around your neck. You look expensive. Benny's eyes follow you until you sit down, probably with a friend. He steps closer to eavesdrop on the conversation.

You sit down with a huff, "Where did ya bring me, Kathy? Ya hang out 'round here?" You look around wildly at the bikers crowding the little bar. Kathy laughs. "Don't worry, darlin'. They won't do anythin to make you uncomfortable or somethin'. They're good people." Kathy finishes, looking over your shoulder, spotting Benny standing a few metres away. She smirks, "Okay listen, I'm gonna go get us some drinks, you want a pop? I'll get ya a pop." Kathy rambles, before walking off to the bar, leaving you alone. You look around warily, the bikers closest to you looking at each other, then at you, and then laughing among themselves. You look down, fiddling with your fingers. 'Hurry up Kathy' you thought to yourself, and a split second later someone sits down in Kathy's chair. But it's not Kathy.

You look up, seeing the prettiest blue eyes and you nearly gulp. Holy shit you think as you let your eyes travel the stranger up and down. He's gorgeous. The stranger looks in a daze, as he crosses his arms over his chest, muscles on full display. Before you say anything, he speaks and you think you could melt right there.

"I'm Benny." he says, his face nearly in a pout. You nearly laugh, the situation being so unorthodox. "I'm y/n. And you're sittin' on my friend's seat." you say, making him throw his hands up in feigned innocence. "Really? I didn't know. My bad, darlin'." He says in a husky voice, his eyes never leaving you.

You smile, "Yeah, but listen I gotta get home, so it was nice meetin' ya, but i gotta get goin'." You stand up, not bothering to look for Kathy, you'd call her later. Unbeknownst to you Benny gets up and follows you outside. As you make your way to the door you hear whistles and calls, making your stomach turn. One comment made you stop in your tracks. "Look at this pretty little rich girl, playin' where she doesn't belong." one of the bikers said, and you frowned.

Yes, you were from a wealthy family, but that doesn't make you just a rich girl. You have ambitions, you have dreams. You can be something other than a rich girl too.

You shake your head, pushing past people as fast as you can, trying to calm the tears that are threatening to spill. As soon as you get outside you take a cigarette from your bag, and sigh. "For fuck sakes. Where's my damn lighter." you grumble, emotions on high. Benny walks up to you, lighter in hand. Without saying anything he brings the light to your face, to your cigarette. "Thanks" you mumble, taking a drag.

You just want to go home. The past hour you've been here has probably taken three years off your lifespan. You sigh, kicking around a rock with your polished shoes. You would be able to enjoy this life, the freedom that comes along with it, if it weren't for people and their stupid comments. You'd finally find a place where you belong. Because it certainly wasn't with the rich kids. They always thought you were weird for having dreams like moving to a farm and building a life for yourself. Or moving to California to surf and working at a surf shop. That's why that guy in the bar's comment frustrated you. If you didn't belong at home, and you didn't belong here, then where do you belong? Benny clears his throat, you jump, forgetting that was there.

"Y'know, they didn't mean it like that. What they said back there. They 'just never seen a girl like you in our bar." he says, as if reading your mind. You scoff, taking another drag from your cigarette. "Yeah whatever, I don't really care. Probably won't see 'em again anyway. But you have a good evenin', Benny. It was delightful meetin' ya." You stomp out your cigarette, walking to the bus stop.

Benny offers you a ride home, because of course the busses don't run at 2am anymore. So you give him your address. As Benny takes a turn into your street you think of how vastly you differ from him. Him in his dirty leather jacket, his hair unwashed for probably a while, and his grease stained shirt underneath with his leather boots. To you, a girl polished by her parents to embody elegance, even though you were far from it. A white dress, pearls probably worth more than his bike, shoes polished and your hair neatly in a bow. A doll. A doll standing on a dangerous cliff, ready to jump down to whatever world Benny was involved in.

Benny pulls up to your house, and he takes a moment to study your house. A double story house, white picket fence, gorgeous porch running around the house. You were rich. He hears you sigh as you get off the bike, and he blurts out a question. "You wanna go to a meetin' with me tomorrow?" He looks at you, pretty dress now stained from sitting so close to him on the bike. He quite likes it. Him tainting your pretty little life. He can sense that you might like it too. You smile, "Yeah, why not. I don't have anythin' goin' on anyway." you nod, making your way to the white picket fence surrounding your house. You look back at him, his eyes sparkling with something you've never seen before.

"Well goodnight, Benny." you wave, making your way to your door.

"Goodnight, princess." Benny hums, leaning against his bike. Yeah he likes you, a lot. He's not going to let you slip out of his fingers. He's already obsessed with you. His princess.

Six weeks later, you married him.

reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! ★

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Javier's Peña's bulge

Bulge-by-pants analysis: the greatest hits

There's just too much of this bulge to be contained to one post, so there will be one more to come. With so much content to play with, I thought long and hard on how to approach this and landed here. Cos we all appreciate a tight trouser, don't we?

Dark grey jeans: This is one of his best pairs and he wears it several times in season 2. But this scene with the holy trinity, his bulge really pops - even compared to the stiff competition from his partners.

Grey dress pants: Even lurking, half-blurred in the background, the bulge makes its presence felt. These pants are cut so well, it's giving me Dave York bulge vibes.

Khaki dress pants: This is a looser suit that doesn't quite cradle his bulge the way the grey pants do. But with his ridiculous manspreading (is it really necessary, Javier?), you can clearly see the weight of his bulge pressing against the seams.

Mid-blue straight-leg jeans: Look, I know I'm not supposed to but this is the outfit Javi wears for the insanely hot scene where he kicks down Maritza's door and throws a chair. Violence is bad guys, but these jeans are downright sinful - the way they gently cup that gorgeous bulge, and look at that side bulge action - I am unwell. Thank you Maddie @imaswellkid for ID'ing this scene for me ❤️

True blue looser cut jeans: I love this look. I'm distraught that we don't see that jacket again (I don't think we do anyway), and those jeans? They're looser than what he usually wears by some distance but even so the bulge still takes glorious centre stage.

Dark wash jeans: I believe we see these jeans quite a lot. It's more subtle than the lighter washes, but you can't miss that hulking bulge between those legs.

Dark brown pants: These pants don't look like denim to me, maybe a corduroy-ish material? I bookmarked this from one of @the-ginger-hedge-witch posts, so full credit to Ren for bringing this ridiculous bulge to my attention. I mean, it's not even an indescript bulge. You can see the actual business. That's why they had to shoot from a safe distance, any closer to the camera and we'd all simultaneously combust.

True blue boot cut jeans: Oh these fucking pants. Sent to me by @iamskyereads. This one is personal because I have a pair in the exact shade of blue. But look at this - look at the camera work, how it zeroes in on that ridiculous bulge, framed so perfectly by those strong thighs and how it's straining against the zipper.

The ultimate grey jeans: Submitted by @imaswellkid. The sheer amount of bulge in this episode is obscene. But none as obscene as this scene. A still screenshot is needed to fully appreciate the heft of the bulge sitting at the apex of those thighs. How did the camera person not pass out while filming this will forever be a mystery.

Seriously, look at it™.

I don't know about you, but I'm thirsty now and need a cold drink to calm down. More bulge to come.

Related: Frankie’s Bulge

[taradiddled]

A peek at Ada and Lucifer's life after Oz is born.

----

“So heeeeeeeere is where my erstwhile mistress has hidden herself away to!”

Adam turned her head away from where she’d been admiring the view of her and Lucifer’s house from the Hotel’s back porch. Lucifer was standing beside Adam’s rocking chair, holding a silver tray with at least three glasses of freshly squeezed lemonade. The Hellish red color of the lemonade was familiar to Adam, no longer a true oddity.

Lucifer looked down to Adam’s chest, where Little Oz snoozed, having fallen asleep almost immediately after being nursed and burped. Adam had wrapped the baby in the blanket she’d crocheted for him months ago, almost fully covering him, save for the little nubs on his head which would one day become full, proud devil horns.

”Out like a light?” The original devil asked, setting his platter down on the nearby little table. He seated himself in the space beside Adam, cozying right up to her size and resting his head against her shoulder.

Adam looked down at Oz’s little face, so smooth and soft with peace, and smiled softly herself. “He feasts on my tits, he burps onto my shoulder, and then he’s done.” She caressed the soft brown hair atop her baby’s head. “Greedy little thing,” she said a with a great deal of fondness.

Lucifer reached over to lightly tap the red circles on Oz’s cheek. The baby made a little squirm, face pinching briefly, before smoothing out with a return to sleep.

”He’s sooooooo cute,” Lucifer cooed, looking at his son with so much love and adoration in his eyes. It was practically downright goofy, to see the King of Hell so besotted, but this was the man Adam knew and loved.

She scoffed at his praise. “Of course he’s cute,” she stated, turning up her nose slightly, rubbing a hand up and down Oz’s little back. “He’s got a fucking gorgeous set of parents like us. Why wouldn’t he be the most adorable thing in existence?”

Lucifer snickered, nuzzling his face against Adam’s shoulder. “Nice of you to share the spotlight, Ada.” He sighed, red eyes again focusing upon the little Hellborn asleep on Adam’s chest. “I can’t believe he’s really here. Seems like just a week ago you were still pregnant, and crushing my hand during the delivery.”

Adam snorted. “Lucifer, that WAS a week ago. Don’t you remember?” She gestured to the scorch marks out on the ground, the half-mangled garden that lead up to her and Lucifer’s house, and the small craters in the dirt from where Exorcists had been hit hard by Lucifer’s attacks as he’d defended Charlie from the onslaught of Heaven’s Holy Army.

Adam could still pick-out the spot where she’d been crouched behind Lucifer’s protective barrier, deep into labor, with only Vaggie and her own banshee power to defend her should the barrier have fallen. It’d been, to put it plainly, a FUCKING NIGHTMARE. Luckily the battle had ended just when the baby was starting to crown, and a frazzled Dr. Vodello had finally arrived to takeover for the almost hysterically-freaked out Vaggie.

“I never did get that epidural,” Adam bitterly mused, remembering the pain she’d experienced. She’d been too deep into the birthing process for Lucifer to even use magic to alleviate the pain, too. But it’d probably been a good thing that they had stayed outside, because Adam’s banshee wail had emerged during the worst of the labor, and she probably would have destroyed Dr. Vodello’s office if they’d actually made it there in the first place.

”But you got through labor without it,” Lucifer tried to point out, smiling encouragingly. “And you didn’t even need any surgery afterwards!”

”I still destroyed about fifty flowerbeds with my wailing,” Adam grimaced. she’d planted those flowerbeds herself a couple months ago with Nifty’s help, finding that she could curb the little demon’s more violent tendencies with some garden work, though Nifty HAD stabbed at the ground when it came time to plant the seeds. Now several of those sprouts were gone, destroyed during the chaos.

Adam still needed to work on her control over her wail, but she would focus on that later, when she wasn’t still recovering from giving birth on a battlefield, and wasn’t so tired because she was up at odd hours with Lucifer, caring for their newborn son. Muriel also assisted with caring for the baby, but Adam wanted the little butler to spend more time with the Hotel’s residents, interacting with other people, and focusing on themselves for once.

That said, Adam WOULD take them up on their offer to watch Oz for the afternoon. Adam needed a nap uninterrupted from a baby’s crying, and judging by the little bags under Lucifer’s eyes, he too could use some rest. He’d taken the night-shift the night before with Oz, letting Adam sleep, before handing Oz off to her at sunrise, stating that he was going to just sit and close his eyes for a while before getting breakfast started. He’d ended up falling asleep sitting up on the bed, and Adam had tucked him in, before taking Oz through the garden path and into the Hotel, to assist Vaggie with preparing breakfast for everyone.

Oz had been mercifully calm the rest of the morning, save when Angel Dust had started watching TV, and the loud volume had made Oz quite fussy. Rather than tell Angel Dust to turn down the television, Adam had decided to take him out to the back porch to nurse him in relative privacy, sitting in the wide rocking chair Lucifer had made for her with his own two hands (and Asmodeus’s assistance).

So here they were, looking out off the back porch of the hotel Charlie and Lucifer’s and Alastor’s magic had created, facing the house that Lucifer had built for Adam with his magic. The magical wards, interwoven with Lucifer, Charlie, and Alastor’s power that made any further attacks on the property impossible to land. Or to infiltrate, should any Overlords (aside from Alastor) make any nefarious attempts.

Adam had witnessed many beautiful, magnificent structures being built from Heaven. Her descendants erecting towers and fortresses and castles and houses that had filled Adam with pride at their creativity and ingenuity. There had even been fantastic structures in Heaven, which had once awed Adam with their splendor.

But nothing could come close to the wonderful work that had gone into the Hotel and the house. Not even Lucifer’s palace, as lovely as it had been, could hope to compare with Adam’s new home.

[iloveyou8600]

last week i had the worst bec of my life… i ahvent had great luck in jersey yet… trying this new place that has great reviews and the man making my sandwich rn is downright GORGEOUS holy fuck

[azumasoroshi]

dude im being 100% fr shizaya fanfic writers were and are fucking insane

because my school banned ao3 (my fault, but that's not important), i saved a bunch of super long shizaya fics (which are PLENTIFUL for some reason, maybe because tastewithouttalent wrote so goddamn many) and have them open to entire work which allows it to stay open on my school devices without being “registered” per say

and they have been like. fucking destroying me

To Hell and Back by corteae started with “izaya and shizuo travel around the world and wacky shenanigans happen” and i was messaging my discord server like “SHIZAYA WORLD TOUR WOOOOOOO” and i was expecting wacky shenanigans and then suddenly everything went off the fucking rails in the way i LEAST expected it to happen

like maybe i wouldn’t have been so blindsided if i hadn’t skimmed through the tags so quickly but like it’s more fun that way. i hate when i actually see a ‘major character death’ tag warning because i want to be surprised

ANYWAY that was genuinely like. one of my favorite fanfiction reading experiences to date. it was like reading a whole novel with how much original stuff was in there but it was so focused on izaya and shizuo and characterized them so unexpectedly well that the original stuff never really felt out of place or forced even though it was so wild

and even though it got super dark at times it maintained this really hopeful outlook on everything and sometimes it was downright cheesy but it just WORKS for that fic and i love it because of that

and some of the challenges it made the characters go through just worked SO well for their canon characters especially post-ketsu and i gasped audibly at some of them and Ahrhghgghhfdgfd

and then the past few days i was reading this zombie apocalypse fanfiction (april 23rd by izayas) and it was like. the most depressing fanfiction reading experiences to date. i literally had a panic attack in school after i read this for a bit too long a session like holy shit it just felt so real and so heavy and hopeless

the writing was phenomenal and well-planned/foreshadowed and probably has the best shizuo AND izaya characterization that i’ve ever seen?? like i could believe things would actually happen in this way in canon. probably because their hate for each other is so intrinsic and they’re never really able to let go of that?? which is not what i expected because yes they bond and yes they care for each other but it was always in a way so that you could feel the wall between them, and even when they connect it’s only briefly, never enough to tear them away from their hatred fully

it almost feels shakespearean in how tragic it is?? everything is so character driven and all their downward spiraling is so poetic and sickening but utterly gorgeous to read. like at so many points you’re like GOD if only they had done this one small thing different, if only if only if only and it’s just htrgrhgfhgd drives me insane which is probably what izayas-san was going for lmao. esoecially at the end you can really feel the shakespeare tragedy kicking in

it’s notable that although it’s tagged shizaya and very much centers around their relationship, it’s much more an exploration of the will of human nature and their individual struggles with coping and growing from their experiences, and there’s like. no typical romance whatsoever

it’s about their sick, twisted, passionate love and whether it’s enough to save either of them or if it’ll kill both of them and just. god. i am empty after that fic i didnt cry but it feels like all the tears have been drained from my body i dont even know how to feel or how to function. i had to take a break from writing this review and it’s been a whole weekend and there’s still this weight on my chest that i cant get rid of :sob: for my sanity’s sake i sincerely doubt i could ever read it again but i honestly treasure that experience

ANYWAY READ SHIZAYA FANFICTION IT’S BUIILT DIFFERENT

[nasuversekinkmeme]

Weekly Roundup: Prompts

Tsukihime

kohaku and shiki feeding/stuffing, can be as fluffy or dark as op would like

FSN

In a moment no one rarely sees, Medea mourns over what she did to her kids. Heracles, who happened to be passing by, offers a shoulder in comfort

would taiga & jaguarman throw hands on sight tho ?

FGO

Gore, Guda offers themselves up as sacrifices to the Aztec god of their choosing leading to some very gory fun

Gudako uses Barghest's washboard abs as a literal washboard.

gudao, oberon, and castoria have a sleepover! Castoria finds out what happens when you fall asleep first. (It does not matter what happens, such as face doodling, pranking, nothing, or outright somno, ANYTHING can happen to her. can be taken seriously or in a nonsensical way)

Autistic Ritsuka who really likes the texture of Vritra’s scales

Smut, Someone fucks Hessian’s headstump.

Someone, anyone, lesbian Salieri/Amadeus, make em women and make em kiss. Hell they can do anything i need some wlw in my life

Baoban Sith (accidentally or otherwise) calls Mash "father".

Smut, Ramas pissed: no one believes his Sita is the best! It's not his fault his wife is still not being able to be summoned despite his numerous attempts! So, in order to right this wrong, he obviously has to crossdress as his beloved and give the sloppiest head to anyone that asks

Smut, tsuna has always wanted to try out somnophilia. it takes a bit of convincing but kintoki is a loving boyfriend and eventually gives in to him. does it go how tsuna imagined???

This is gonna be so obvious LMAO, but I'd love to see anyone's take on feeder!Helena and feedee!Holmes, anything along those lines!

After some time, Kriemhild has accepted that her adopted son Schmidt has started dating and invites them over for family dinner. What she didn't expect is for him to show up with two people, both of whom seem to be bad influences on her son (Sieg×AstolfoxJeanne trouphle but honestly it can be anyone)

Any fandom

due to servants like Paul Bunyan, we know that a character doesn't have to actually exist to be summonable by the holy grail. They just need to have a large body of broadly accepted myths about them. Even if the character is one people know is complete fiction, if there's enough stories about them, it is possible to summon them. Ergo, I want to see what happens in a hypothetical Holy Grail War where some dumbass summons Superman.

Smut, I am in desperate need for maid girls getting bred by other girls, which part of the nasuverse you do is your call, though I'm more familiar with the Fate side of things.

Yknow what, we need more character/reader first, idc if they're sweet or smutty or downright nasty

I wanna see the crackficiest crackfic you can dream up out of the Nasuverse. Like aim for the level of Grinch/Tony the Tiger. The less there is to back up the pairing in canon, the better. Only rule: once you pick your pairing, do it entirely seriously. It can be fucked up or wholesome, you just have to treat it seriously.

The Boys are having a bbq and kintoki is making the extra effort to make mandricardo feel included and comfortable. What kintoki doesn't realise is that he's getting a little too touchy-feely with mandy, who now has to juggle his social anxiety with his growing desire to fuck this gorgeous hunk of a himbo

Samurai Remnant

Musashi accidentally let its slip that in a past universe she met some guy called Yoshinaka and is immediately jumped by Tomoe for more info

[writteninscarlet]

🖤 ( *hauls my muse away* ) ;; @brutalage

send 🖤 and my character will answer about yours. ;; accepting

attractiveness:

repulsive / hideous / ugly / not attractive / unappealing / not unattractive / meh / no preference / ok / mildly attractive / nice looking / cute / adorable / attractive / pleasant on the eyes / good looking / hot / sexy / beautiful / gorgeous / hot damn / would tap that / perfect / godlike / holy fuck there are no words.

"If I was to lie - but what would be the point in that - I could say he isn't attractive at all. But if you were just to see him in passing then he isn't unattractive. But OVERALL ATTRACTIVENESS isn't just about looks. And as soon as he opens his mouth. Or you look further..." She couldn't hide the look on her features, and the roll of her eyes. "Truly, he might talk a good talk but most things he does is quite repulsive."

personality:

grating / irritating / frustrating / boring / confusing at best / awkward / unreasonable / psychotic / disturbing / interesting / engaging / affectionate / aggressive / ambitious / anxious / artistic / bad tempered / bossy / charismatic / appealing / unappealing / creative / courageous / dependable / unreliable / unpredictable / predictable / devious / dim / extroverted / introverted / egotistical / gregarious / fabulous / impulsive / intelligent / sympathetic / talkative / up beat / peaceful / calming / badass / flexible.

"I definitely cannot call him boring, but please know that ISN'T a compliment. There's nothing wrong with being boring now and then, certainly when compared to someone so..." She sighed, shaking her head, what words of those did sum him up best? "He is certainly unique. And incredibly frustrating. And aggressive. He's not exactly shown many appealing qualities to myself, but he seems to enjoy himself."

how likely they would have sex with them:

not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending / fuck no! / never / no way / not likely / not sure / indifferent / I’m asexual / maybe / probably / it depends / fairly likely / likely / yeah sure / yes / would tap that / hell yes / fuck yes! / wishing that could happen right now / as many times as possible / we are already having sex.

There was silence as she thought over her past relationships. And people she'd just slept with. The list was not... amazing. And she was known for bad decisions. But she wasn't about to get into bed with someone as aggravating, and rather as downright evil, as himself. "This is far from my mind."

level of friendship:

never in a million years / worst of enemies / enemies / rivals / indifferent / neutral / acquaintance / friendly toward each other / casual friends / friends / good friends / best friends / fuck buddies / bosom buddies / practically the same person / would die for them / true friends / my only friend.

"I hope it doesn't seem as though I have incredibly HIGH STANDARDS for friendship, but he does possess many qualities I would rather not associate with. And honestly, I believe most things we say to one another only aggravates the other." A pause. "No, actually, he probably says things precisely TO aggravate and annoy me." A shake of her head, a roll of her eyes. "I know they say opposites attract, but that isn't always the case."

first impression of them:

i hate them so much / i don’t like them / i don’t trust them / they annoy me / they’re weird / I’m indifferent / meh / they seem alright / they’re growing on me / truce / I think I like them / I like them / I’m not sure if I trust them / I trust them / they’re cool / they’re genuine / I think we’re going to get along / I really like them / I think I’m in love / oh fuck they’re hot / I love them.

"I don't like to make SNAP judgements." There was silence, before Wanda added, "At the same time, I don't think my opinion that they were annoying and not quite right was a wrong assessment."

current impression of them:

i hate them so much / i don’t like them / i don’t trust them / they annoy me / they’re weird / I’m indifferent / meh / they seem alright / they’re growing on me / truce / I think I like them / I like them / I’m not sure if I trust them / I trust them / they’re cool / they’re genuine / I think we’re going to get along / I really like them / I think I’m in love / oh fuck they’re hot / I love them.

"Now, a snap judgement really isn't good but that impression hasn't changed. And I think for good reason. Some people are just... Tiring. But I suppose he'll probably continue to bug me for some time. Hardly the type to disappear."

[ursulasupremacy]

Holy

Fucking

Goddess🥺🙈🥺😍😍😍😍 please just smother me in those heavenly thighs and let me worship you every single day🥺🙈🥺🥺🙈 downright gorgeous 🥺🙈😍

I love that! That’s what they deserve 🍒🤍

[365days365movies]

Musical December I: Singin’ in the Rain (1952) - Review

Well...this movie is perfect.

I know, I KNOW, this is the lazy answer, it would seem. But I mean it...this is an amazing film, and I genuinely can’t find any flaws with it. Like, seriously. I’m making this post as a formality, but there’s very little for me to say here. It’s an excellent musical, it’s an excellent film, it’s just excellent.

But OK, I’ll do a breakdown, I promise. It’s a good opportunity to test something out. See, given the fact that I’m covering musicals at the moment, it’s a good chance to change up the review scheme just a little bit. Here’re the changes:

Cast and Acting: Still basically the same, but singing talent and ability will now be included in the criteria for judgement.

Plot and Writing: This is in reference to the overarching plot, the use of music within the plot, and the writing during the spoken portions. Songwriting will be covered elsewhere.

Directing, Cinematography, and Choreography: Just what it looks like; we’re adding choreography to this category.

Production Design and Editing: We’re folding these together this time around. Why? Well...

The Songbook: Yeah, this has to be its own category, since we’re talking about musicals. Obviously, a proper songbook is also a part of writing and choreography, but this category is focused upon the quality of the songs in and of themselves. So, the songbook gets its own category.

And with that...

Check out Parts One and Two for the Recap!

Review

Cast and Acting: 10/10

God, I love these guys. Gene Kelly, Donald O’Connor, and Debbie Reynolds are, individually and together, some of the most enjoyable and charming protagonists I’ve ever seen in a musical. I genuinely love seeing them interact whenever on screen, and in any combination of the three characters. They’re genuinely perfect in terms of their interpersonal chemistry, and just a genuine delight.

And obviously, they’re not the only notable actors in the film. Millard Mitchell shines in the latter half of the film, Cyd Charisse ekes mystique in the “Broadway Montage” sequence, and Jean Hagen...holy shit, Jean Hagen. Jean Hagen is a funny and despicable villain in this movie, and I grew to love her squeaky-ass voice (which is not her real voice, of course). She’s a horrible and petty person, but I had a lot of fun watching her. I had no problems with anyone at any point, seriously.

Plot and Writing: 10/10

The plot is fantastic, and well-done. But the writing! OH, THE WRITING! For a musical film, for a member of a genre with no obligation to use spoken words to get plot and story across, the writing in this movie has no business being as funny as it is! Not only do actors like O’Connor, Kelly, and Hagen say them with such perfect timing and grace, but writers Adolph Green and Betty Comden just genuinely wrote a funny-ass movie! God, some of the lines in this movie are amazing. Any interaction between Hagen and Kelly is bound to be funny in it pure acridity. And O’Connor is just constantly funny. Just...fuck, I love this movie.

Directing, Cinematography, and Choreography: 10/10

THIS MOVIE HAS NO BUSINESS LOOKING THIS GOOD. From Gene Kelly and Stanley Donen’s amazing direction and choreography, all the way to Harold Rosson and his cinematography, the look of this movie is stellar from bottom to top. And I do mean how the film is shot and composed, to be clear. Not only are there some downright gorgeous shots, but the way that the musical numbers and dances are filmed is masterful. That is, of course, on top of the already masterful dance numbers. I will gush about Kelly and O’Connor until the day I die, and about the Cocteau-esque ballet sequence far after that point. It’s stellar. And that still isn’t including the next category!

Production Design and Editing: 10/10

Y;know, I considered giving this one a 9/10, purely on Adrienne Fazan and her editing. That’s because of the Broadway sequence, because I’d roginally thought that it was too long. But honestly, real fucking talk? It’s still a beautiful and flawless sequence! It drags a little, but I wouldn’t skip it at all! And if I were showing this film to anybody for the first time, I’d laud this entire sequence! The production design is stellar throughout the movie, but this sequence is particularly spectacular on that front. So, yeah, even the thing I like the least about the film is STILL too good for me to take a point off. Production and art design are fucking flawless.

The Songbook: 10/10

...WELL? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME, IT’S SINGIN’ IN THE RAIN, FOR CHRISSAKES

Yeah, it’s perfect! The songbook, for literally being cobbled together from older songs and movies, is executed absolutely perfectly. It’s so utterly flawless, that the songs aren’t associated with any other musical but this one! It’s a jukebox musical that broke the fucking jukebox! And during these sections, by the way, I’ll be going into my favorite song of the musical. And for this one, that’s a nearly impossible question. “Singin’ in the Rain” is obviously a timeless classic. I’m a huge sucker for “Good Mornin'” as well, and both “Fit as a Fiddle (And Ready for Love)” and “Moses Supposes” are fun as hell. But I said this was a nearly impossible question.

Holy shit, do I love this song, and this scene.

This is, without a doubt, my favorite song in the film. Not only is the song memorable and a lot of fun, but Donald O’Connor’s vocal and physical performance will never leave me. It’s genuinely one of my favorite sequences in any film, and I love it more than I could possibly express. God...God, I love this movie.

Yeah. 100%. Genuinely one of my top favorites.

Which, yeah, is crazy for the first musical of the month. How in the hell am I gonna top this? Understand, this movie is amazing. If you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend watching it at least once. I’m gonna watch it far more than that. This is one of those movies that, if it’s on, I’m watching it. It’s just unabashedly joyous and happy, and I can’t resist movies like that. Has no business being this good, but it is.

It’s moments like this that I wonder if I’m exaggerating. Maybe the emotions from the film are still lingering, and maybe time will temper my judgement. But I genuinely don’t think so. Just in case, I’ll go into the next one. Gonna be another film from the ‘50s, another film from the long list of musicals I should’ve seen by now, and another musical prominently starring a ghost singer. And finally...it’s a film that I am a little scared to watch.

Next: The King and I (1956), dir. Walter Lang

[edengarden]

Headcanons of tendou wearing a skirt/dress in his bedroom because he likes to wear it but is too embarrassed and scared to wear it in public but then his s/o walks in and he gets so scared that they'd get disgusted and wanna break up because they suddenly went silent at the sight,,,

But internally s/o's system just crashed because holy shit???? Tori is so beautiful???? The skirt frames his long legs so perfectly???? It took everything in their power to not straight up die on spot (even if they did they would die happy)

UHM? YES PLEASE?? PRETTY BOY?? god please i love this

three quarters of him thinks he looks pretty and the other quarter of him feels ashamed for thinking he looks pretty, the mental strain is huge while he stares at himself through the mirror

mans did a full 360, looked at all angles and listen, he loves it. he really does, but he knows others will NOT think the same.

but then again, he's always said 'fuck what people think', so what's the difference here?? he's so mad at himself for causing this internal dilemma

and you walk in, in the middle of his personal maelstrom, and his heart fucking stops and drops.

it's silent between you two bc A) you caught him in a really really vulnerable moment (in many senses) and he is terrified. he didn't have time to mentally prepare himself for your reaction yet, and by the way you've stopped abruptly, he has a feeling it's not gonna be pretty (nowhere near as pretty as he thinks he looks in that skirt)

and B) you caught him wearing the prettiest fucking clothes and your entire brain shut off because holy shit he looks downright gorgeous and you have no idea how to process this information without shedding a few tears. he looks like an angel and you're almost jealous of how well that skirt fits him. anyone would kill to have legs like that

in the end you raise your hands up to your chest. tori flinches at the movements. you open your mouth. he braces himself for the worst. and you go "holy mother of jesus you look so beautiful"

you think you wanted to cry?? nah nah he's the one crying. the validation was just what he needed

in the end he does a little twirl for you and asks what you think and he thrives off the non-stop praise that leaves your lips

he's never felt so beautiful and he's glad you've helped him open his eyes to his own beauty

[spiltscribbles]

Worth It

~Notes: Oof, I know I have so many prompts in my inbox and I appreciate them so much! But I wanted to write something after dinner in dedication and a gift to the lovely Remus-John-Lupin!!!!!!!<3<3<3 I love you RJ and I appreciate you and your friendship so fucking much, so this is just a strange little gift from me to you in thanks for how kind you’ve always been to me since I joined this crazy fandom, ILY and you’re my favorite slag!!!!

.-

Sirius silently reminds himself that he in fact likes Lily, he thinks she’s a total knock out and is happy that his brother is finally getting to date the girl of his dreams. He likes her damn it,! And one does not commit battery to folks that they like.

Assured that his pure irritation won’t bleed through his words, Sirius tries again in his most charming of inflections. “All I want is his number.”

“No,” she repeats, casually steadfast while poking at her salad— Not even bothering to flick her gaze up at an increasingly irate Sirius.

“Why are you being so fucking difficult!”

“Why are you still bitching about this,” she counters, finally giving him her undivided attention, even if it’s her glaring at him like she’d like to skewer Sirius on a stick.

“Hey guys, let’s chill.” James tries to mediate, laughing awkwardly between the pair of them, hand raised in concession and glasses going a bit skewed.

They promptly ignore him.

“I like him. What is so difficult to understand Evans? Aren’t you like supposed to be some brainiac or some shit?”

“It’s been like two months Black,” she says pointedly, grip on her fork tightening while her mouth curls unpleasantly. “That’s way past your ordinary infatuations, so why the hell do you still even care.”

Sirius bares his teeth, pinning her with a glower that once made an old school yard bully of Regulus’s actually piss his pants. So of course Lily doesn’t even flinch. “He’s cute.”

“You’re a dog.”

“You’re being a total ass.”

“And you’re a bastard.”

“But you love me though.”

“Just barely.”

“So you’ll give me Remus’s number?”

“Dream on.” she says with a lofty sniff and haughty flip of the hair, discarding her barely eaten lunch before swaggering over to where a group of her friends from the STEM club are sat, including Alice Flores and Dorcas Meadowes. 

“Guess you’re back to square one Pads.” James says, unhelpful as fuck, so Sirius only flips him off before snatching back his calculus homework from a pitiful looking Peter.

“Fuck this.”

.-

Sirius thinks of himself as a reasonable sort of guy.

He isn’t one for holding grudges or obsessing over perceived slights. He’s brilliant whether he’s playing linebacker on the field or taking a exam in class.

For fuck’s sake, Sirius  can be plumped down in any and all social situations without warning, and can have the room eating out the palm of his hand within the first five minutes.

In layman’s terms, he’s decent and driven and downright charismatic. Mix this all together, and well Sirius thinks he’s a pretty fantastic fucking package— if he does say so himself. He can have his pick of the lot, truly. Especially when walking down the halls flocked by his best friend turned second brother on one end and little Petey, who’s a great hype man, on the other. So its only poetic justice that the one person who’s been able to swallow up all his attention is the one person who doesn’t even give him a second glance most days.

And that’s fucking ridiculous.

This is ridiculous! He is fucking ridiculous! No, record scratch. Remus fucking Lupin is the most ridiculous part of this all!

Remus lupin with his delightfully disheveled hair the color of gold and his crooked grin that’s everything darling in the world, and his big doe eyes that sometimes flare with green specs when he’s especially passionate in class or when he’s chatting with Lily in the halls. Remus lupin who’s only just moved here to Murray Hill from a small town in southern Illinois and who toppled Sirius’s world upside-down while he was at it. 

The first time they met was completely on accident.

It was the week before classes began, and Sirius had only just come back from his family trip to their villa in Rome, and he was only meant to meet James at the coffee shop that Lily was working at now. They were suppose to head to the city and go out drinking to celebrate the start of their senior year.  Sirius was suppose to find a nice, college aged girl to fuck because he’s given up on the boring lot that infests Hogwarts these days. It was suppose to be easy and fun and he was suppose to stay stringless and unattached as ever.

But that didn’t happen.

Instead, Sirius walked into the Howling Moon  and was met by the sight of the most lovely, most gorgeous boy he’s ever met. Hand to God, it felt like one of those slow motion moments in a Romantic Comedy when the disgruntled, wayward lead first sets their eyes on that love interest— the one to out shine all others, the one  who turns everything inside out and makes it all glitter gold.

“Hey there,” Remus had grinned like the fucking sun, slipping the pen from his ear and hand poised over the cups lining the counter. “What can I get ya?”

“Oh, erm— Yeah. Just a caramel macchiato, iced.”Sirius’s ordinarily smooth baritone almost fucking cracked while ordering, and Remus’s beautiful eyes had glittered.

“Would’ve taken you for a dark roast sort of guy.” He said, and Sirius swears that it was playful and flirtatious and a little mischievous too. 

Sirius was in love.

“I’ve been known to partake in sweets, you know, if they catch my eye,” he replied, eyes lingering meaningfully up and down Remus’s slighter frame.

“What a come on,” Remus had laughed, head thrown back to show off his long neck and Sirius was so fucking gobsmacked at how it quite literally sounded like all the most splendid instruments woven together.

He had ducked his head, so unordinary bashful but so beyond pleased. “What can I say beautiful, you bring it out of me.”

“”Cute.” Remus had chuckled, cheeks going a fetching red and scribbling down the order. “Definitely one of the more interesting one liners I’ve gotten today.”

Sirius ignored the flare of jealousy over that, considering that he hasn’t gotten to even kiss him yet, and he should probably take this slow if he doesn’t want to screw it up. “Has anyone of those bastards mentioned how your eyes put the brownies on sale to shame?”

“No one as hot as you if I’m being honest,” Remus retorted, ringing him up and sinking his teeth into his plump bottom lip. And fuck, Sirius knew he was in trouble from then on.

They had talked for over half an hour about nothing at all in that tiny bistro while Remus was busy exchanging the coffee pots for a fresh batch and rearranging the baked goods, and it was amazing.

 Sirius has always been someone who couldn’t sit still, who had to be fluttering all over the place to feel like he was actually headed somewhere, like he was getting something finished. But for the first time in too long, just sitting there, still and silent and besotted while Remus chatted about his hometown and moving half way across the country and his eccentric mother— Well Sirius felt completely balanced, completely calm. He felt like just as long as Remus was their chatting with him and smiling in that beguiling way of his, that Sirius could actually breathe without pressure. Like he knew what it meant to have a center.

So of course, right when he decided that he was going to snatch him up— to ask him out on a date before anyone else from their shitty class filled with degenerates and dick heads could— Lily of all people  had swaggered in, and gave him a caustic sort of glower that plainly said, keep the fuck away.

Ordinarily Sirius would’ve completely ignored her warning, would’ve unashamedly and excitedly chased after the cutest fucking boy he’s ever laid his eyes on with an absurd sort of zeal. But he under estimated just how much sway Lily was able to cater with Remus in the few weeks they worked with one another before he had met him. So instead of starting off the year with a brand new, insanely pretty boyfriend wrapped around one arm, Sirius has just spent the past nine weeks pining like a fucking love sick loser. Like he was starring in some cheesy John Hughes movie from the damn 80s!

And this will not do, this is not all right, not okay at all.

Sirius needs to figure out a way to get close to Remus, and outside of Lily’s overbearing claws. Something that only Remus likes, that Sirius can partake in to prove himself worthy.

As he promenades down the hall towards his free period, Sirius creates a mental check list of the things he knows Remus enjoys.

Remus enjoys poetry, and Sirius knows that he’s part of the school’s award winning Forensics team. But they meet during the football practices so Sirius couldn’t even try to impress him in that arena until the spring. He also knows that Remus likes history, that he’s going to end up majoring in classics in University, but Sirius really doubts his ability to memorize the Iliad in the matter of a few hours— He’s good, but not that good.

“Jesus fuck is this hard,” he mutters nastily to himself, tugging at the ends of his dark hair before ramming straight into a display outside the southern wing of their preparatory school’s building.

He winces, not so much for the throbbing in his toes, but because of Marlene’s snappish attitude when he makes it so that the table shakes.

“Keep your head out your ass Black,” she scolds before going back to filing her nails. And Sirius is about to snipe right back at her— That is until he catches on the bright poster adorned with small rainbows and the words, GSA FOOD DRIVE spelt out in large lettering.

And oh!

“Eureka!”

“Pardon?” Marlene asks, nose wrinkled indelicately as she eyes him like he’s about to puke on her brand new Doc Martens again like last weekend. Holy shit, she should really get over it by now.

But Sirius is smart enough and tactful enough not to mention his thoughts on the matter, only smiles down at her with pure elation. “Marls, what if I said I had a brilliant idea to help our lovely GSA.”

“I’d accuse you to only doing it to try and get in Lupin’s pants since he’s our new VP.”

Sirius grapples for his chest, feigning indignant. “You pain me my old friend.”

Marlene snorts. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“That’s neither here nor there.”

“So are your chances with Lupin.”

“You’re a sick fuck McKinnon.”

“What do you want from me you gnat.”

“Let me help with the fundraiser.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll tell Lily to get Meadowes to notice you?”

Marlene glares at him now. “We’ve been fucking for like a month you prick.”

“Oh— Erm, then for some of that good old Bi unity?”

Marlene suddenly looks so very shrewd and Sirius hates how every fucking woman in his life could eat him whole for breakfast. “Absolutely not.”

“Fine, what the fuck do you want.”

“You cover Fabian’s costs for the goods  when we go to that rave for 2KBABY in January.”

“Eh, didn’t you guys use to fuck?”

“Yes. But I don’t see the connection?”

“He won’t even give you a discount on the good shit?”

“Oh he does,” she leers, blue eyes glinting wickedly in the hallway light. “But I’d rather see you pay full price for’m.”

Sirius glares down at her, and repeats himself.  “You. Are. A. Sick. Fuck.”

Marlene just lies back in her seat and returns to manicuring her nails. “Well if cheekbones isn’t worth the bother?”

“Fine,” Sirius all but growls out. “But we do this my way.”

“Scout’s honor handsome,” she absolutely beams, and Sirius reminds himself that this is all for Remus and that’s worth it at the end of the day.

.-

It’s a week later, right before Thanksgiving break hits, and Sirius is sat in front of the cafeteria, smirking at the line of mostly pink faced girls and a few others amongst their midst, who have all queued up in front of him. A dollar in each of their hands, though he does see that a few have fives and even tens or more, and he doesn’t know how to subtly tell them that all he’s promising is a quick peck of his lips, and absolutely no other groping— including of his legendary ass or admittedly perfect abs.

“You’re just really enjoying yourself, aren’t you.” James hisses besides him after the latest girl— a blonde sophomore who’s decked out in Lulu Lemon for their only non uniform day of the week— scurries off. “Just a ego trip.”

“Jealous Jamie darling?” Sirius boasts, tipping back on his chair while Marlene collects the cash from the next five in line so that they can clammer closer towards him.

“I can’t believe all of them want to kiss you,” Peter marvels, round eyes completely in aw. 

“I can’t believe you think this is how to get Remus’s attention,” Lily interjects huffily, lips set in a moody pout while perched on James’s lap to Sirius’s left.

“I bet you would’ve been in line if you weren’t dating Jamie here.” Sirius counters, smug as all get out, and laughing when all Lily deigns as a adequate response is her middle finger.

Sirius is on cloud nine. He can’t believe he didn’t think of this sooner! Remus loves all this shit, from the club to the charity. This is perfect! This basically guarantees that he’ll finally get a good smooch on him. And once their lips finally  touch, Remus will surely feel the swarm of butterflies in his gut just like in those Harleyquin romance novels his cousin Narcissa would always read with a dreamy look on her face during their various Family vacations.

“You’re not gonna get him this way.”

“He’s not gonna know what hit’m Evans,” Sirius retorts, completely self assured.

.-

One should never bet against Lily Marie Evans.

Sirius knows this now. But he still hates it with the passion of a thousand burning suns.

By the end of the lunch hour, Sirius’s earned over sixty bucks to the GSA’s fundraiser fund, and absolutely zero potential boyfriends who look like golden angels and make Sirius’s knees weak.

“I told you,” Lily says in that sing-song sort of voice that is so not appreciated right now. “Remus is not the type to kiss you in front of a huge crowd and after like a bunch of others. That’s not his style.”

Sirius is moody as all get out, and he’s irritated that he’s just wasted five dozen perfectly fine kisses on folks who aren’t Remus, so he doesn’t bother to hide his irritation when he gripes back at her, “Then tell me what the fuck is his style.”

Miraculously, that actually proved enough to get Lily to slow down her stroll, and cock her head curiously at him. “You actually care.”

“What the fuck have I been trying to tell you Evans!” He nearly shouts.

“I just thought— You know. That it was a game.”

Sirius’s face goes stoney, and he juts his chin away from her. “It’s not always a fucking game, all right. It’s not a game with him— I like him. I like Remus.”

“Oh,” Lily says very quietly, her face pulled in a thousand different directions before settling on something akin to solemn. “You should go to the music room for your free period today.”

Sirius quirks a brow at her, frowning while he asks, “Why?”

“Just trust me S,” she says, reaching over her hand to squeeze his forearm.

Sirius watches her walk off, hand in hand with James, and he feels a strange twisting to his heart when he imagines a very similar image— only with him and Remus and punctuated by plenty of kisses to the cheek, and jawline and lips too.

.-

The music room is towards the back of the school, in a separate building along with the theatre and main auditorium.

The early autumnal chill lashes against Sirius’s face while he makes the track to the room, continuously chanting to himself that he actually trusts Lily and this is gonna be worth it if there’s a merciful God up there.

Once Sirius clammers in doors, he rubs his cold hands together, and shakes out his hair. 

The first thing he hears is the soft strumming of a guitar, and finds himself in front of the music room after following its melodic toon. 

Through the window he can spot the form of Remus bent over the instrument, his thick curls getting in his eyes and his steady hands plucking a few chords as he sits cross legged atop the piano.

Sirius feels his heart lodging in his throat at the sight of him, so beautiful and perfect and warm looking in that scarlet sweater. And he knows in his bones that this is some sort of unspoken blessing that Lily’s given him, so with a deep breath, Sirius opens the door and strolls in.

Remus starts slightly, going flushed once his eyes catch on Sirius’s own.

“Oh Sirius,” he greets, the corners of his mouth tipping into a smile that doesn’t ring true. “You pulled away from the haram?”

“That’s a bit much? Calling them a haram,” Sirius says cooly, hitching up besides him and swinging his long legs. “I just did it to help you.”

“Oh— Yeah,” Remus nods. “The GSA appreciates all the help we can get.”  His words are quiet, and he’s rinsing a hand through his curls, so Sirius can tell that he’s a bit nervous. And it’s impossibly cute, but also not on. He doubts that he’ll ever get his kiss if Remus won’t even look at him in the eyes.

Gingerly, Sirius sets the pad of his pointer finger beneath Remus’s chin, lifting his gaze upwards. “Not the GSA— Though I appreciate the club’s work and your part in that.”

“Oh,” Remus says again, lips pursed and his throat pulsing when he swallows down. “Then—“

“I did it for you Remus,” Sirius repeats heatedly. “I did it because I’ve been mad for you since ever meeting you in August, and I can’t get your fucking face or name or lips or ass out of my head. And I thought that if maybe I pulled a dumb stunt like that, you would actually kiss me along with the lot of those idiots who can’t even hold a candle to you.”

“M—My ass?” Remus questions, voice going pitchy and face bright with emotion. 

Sirius laughs, booming and bombastic. “You have the best ass I’ve ever seen Remus Lupin and it’s really obscene.”

Remus shoulder checks him, looking down and then back up through his lashes at Sirius and it’s a sight Sirius wish he can keep with him for the rest of his days.

“So you thought I’d want our first kiss to happen after you’ve just made out with half the school?” 

Sirius grimaces, bending down so that their lips are only inches apart. “Listen, I can be a complete dumb ass on occasion.”

“Don’t forget arrogant.”

“Okay, fair.”

“And brash too.”

“Right.”

“Also you tend—“

Sirius places a soft hand over Remus’s supple lips, glaring teasingly at the other boy, who’s grinning like the cat who’s caught the canary, his eyes teeming with laughter. 

Remus Lupin is going to be the death of  him, Sirius knows it.

“Listen Lupin, I’d like a shred of self respect here, so I can actually muster up the courage to ask you out on a proper date already.”

Remus perks at that, so Sirius moves his grasp.

 “You wanna ask me out?”

“Depends…. You wanna continue that little rant until I’m blue balled and  gutless.”

“Hmm,” Remus inches closer, setting his hand over Sirius’s on the piano. “Nah, I think I’d rather do this.”

He leans forwards and Sirius barely has enough time to gather his bearings when he feels Remus’s mouth over his own and it’s literally every starlit promise and sugar burnt secret and sunlit afternoon all rolled into one. And Sirius feels his heart thud an uneven staccato when he grabs for either end of Remus’s waistline and plunges his tongue into his own and he lets himself get lost in the overwhelming feeling of it all.

[gay-otlc]

Little Miss Perfect

Summary: Straight hair, straight A's, straight forward, straight girl

Straight hair is most beautiful. Straight A's are most successful. Straight forward is fastest. Straight girls are the most perfect. And if straight girls are the most perfect, and Biana is the most perfect, ae has to be straight. Ae doesn't get a choice.

Little miss perfect, that's me

Content warnings: Internalized homophobia, homophobia in general, cursing, mentions of abuse, mentions of eating disorders, lmk if I should add more.

Word count: 3143

(Read on AO3)

Straight hair, straight A's, straightforward Straight path, I don't cut corners

Biana Amberly Vacker is beautiful, and smart, but that's hardly a surprise. Even before ae was born, everyone knew ae would be beautiful, and smart. Ae's a Vacker, after all. Ae wakes up early to straighten aer hair and stays up late to study, so ae's tired all the time, but ae's gorgeous and ae's at the top of aer class, so does it really matter?

Ae takes life one day at a time, one step after another, because if ae slows down or turns around, everything ae's running away from might catch up with aer.

So ae doesn't do that. Biana keeps following the straight path and hopes the road ahead of aer doesn't wind too much. Make sure every step leads aer to perfection.

I make a point to be on time Head of the student council

Not only that, but Biana's on time for everything. Aer parents make sure of that, but ae probably would be even without their help- Biana likes to plan ahead. Or really, ae doesn't know for sure whether ae likes it, or if it makes ae feel trapped. But at least it saves aer the confusion and terror of an uncertain life. Whatever the reason, ae makes little notes in aer planner for all aer appointments.

And bigger notes in aer journal for the rest of aer life.

Make it through Foxfire.

Manifest an ability.

Get a respectable job.

Marry a respectable boy.

Have children.

Step four... doesn't seem so great, by which ae means downright nauseating, but that doesn't matter. What ae wants doesn't matter. And anyway, this will probably be what ae wants in the long run. Ae's just not old enough for boys yet. Plenty of time for that in the future.

Ae'll be on time for every step of aer perfect fucking life.

I don't black out at parties I jam to Paul McCartney

Biana doesn't break rules- mostly because ae's afraid of how aer father would punish aer. Either way, ae's never snuck out at night, never spent time with the classmates he said were beneath aer, never wore something he said showed too much skin, never ate more than ae was allowed to. Every single one of his rules, ae followed.

If that meant not going to Marella Redek's party because her mother was too "strange," even though everyone else was talking about how fun it would be, ae wouldn't go. Ae would just miss out. Fun.

Ae heard that at the parties, they played human music. What would that even sound like? Fitz knew- he got to go to the human world all the time, but Biana didn't. Still, after incessant begging, aer dad let aer listen to one song, by a human named Paul McCartney. It wasn't bad. Quite good, in comparison to elvin music. Still... ae wished ae could listen to more.

Of course, ae wouldn't. That would be disobeying aer dad. And ae didn't do that. She always had to be the perfect daughtaer.

If you ask me how I'm doing I'll say... Well, hmm

Lying wasn't good, of course. Ae shouldn't lie to people who asked how ae was doing.

But ae couldn't admit to being anything less than perfect.

So ae'd just mumble.

Perfect until proven otherwise.

I was adopted when I was two My parents spoiled me rotten

Okay, so Biana isn't actually adopted- but for years, ae thought ae had been. Always out of place in the perfect Vacker family, because everything comes so effortlessly to them, they're exactly what elvin society wants without any struggle at all. And ae... wasn't like that. Too loud, too argumentative, not quite ladylike enough. Not smart enough, ae needed to work harder. Not pretty enough.

Not interested in the right people.

But when ae learned to stay quiet, keep aer head down, and follow all the damn rules, aer parents seemed to like aer better. Well, Alden did. Della always appreciated aer, however quietly, slipping aer little pieces of mallowmelt behind Alden's back even when he told aer that ae had to be thinner. Whispering compliments into aer ears after Alden scolded aer so much his voice was hoarse from screaming and aers was hoarse from crying.

And when Alden was proud of aer, she would get everything ae wanted. All the pretty dresses. All the sparkles and sketchbooks and sewing kits. Trips to Atlantis or Eternalia. Anything ae wanted, to reward her for being Little Miss Perfect.

Often I ask myself, "What did I do?" To get as far as I've gotten

Some of the time- who the hell is ae kidding, it's most, if not all, of the time- Biana feels like... ae doesn't deserve aer last name, or aer popularity, or any of aer privileges in life. Mentors at Foxfire practically revere aer and aer peers bend over backwards to be liked by aer.

Ae is so fucking sick of it.

Why aer? Ae wants to scream the question at every single person who treats aer differently. Why is ae the one to get that treatment? Ae had never done anything important in aer whole fucking life, ae didn't do anything, and all this praise should go to someone far more perfect than aer.

A pretty girl walks by my locker My heart gives a flutter

Biana is, unfortunately, very well known at Foxfire, and ae thought ae knew everyone else too. But ae's never seen this girl before, because ae would know if they had. It would be impossible for past Biana to have seen this girl and not remember her.

She has dark skin, even darker than Biana's, and long dreadlocks pulled into a knot and streaked with blue. Biana thought ae was used to the beauty of elvin girls- they were all quite pretty- but this girl, holy shit, ae was not prepared to see this girl. Her flat nose and full pink lips and turquoise eyes are all so beautiful. Biana's heart pounds and flutters around her chest like it wants to fly out and meet this girl, and aer breath catches.

Maruca Chebota, as ae later learns, is perfection.

But I don't dare utter a word 'Cause that would be absurd behaviour For little miss perfect

The pretty girl continues walking, seemingly unaware that she's thrown Biana's world wobbling out of orbit. Biana wants to call out to her, to yell, to make sure she doesn't walk away and make it so that amazing high, those butterflies and awe and something ae can't even describe, seems almost like it never happened.

But there are a lot of people in the hallways, and they're already staring at aer far more intensely than what ae would describe as comfortable, ready to judge each and every thing she does. Running to catch up with a girl because she's pretty? Not normal. Not normal for any elf, but especially not aer.

Biana silently watches her turn around a corner into a different hallway and out of aer line of sight, wishing ae could have been a little less perfect. Just for one second.

Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na No, I can't risk falling off my throne

Dear Maruca,

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I've been avoiding you lately. I'm sorry I can't talk to you. You haven't done anything wrong, I promise.

It's just... you're dangerous. To my heart, my... my reputation. My throne.

That's not quite true. You're not dangerous to most people. You're just dangerous to me. Maybe you're fine, and I'm just too fragile. Too imperfect.

La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la Love is something I don't even know

Dear Maruca,

What if we did love each other? Bravely. Boldly. Unapologetically.

What if I pretended it wouldn't topple me off my throne; or pretended I didn't care?

No. That's stupid. I shouldn't sacrifice all that for love.

This isn't even love, anyway. I don't know what love is, but you aren't it.

Straight hair, straight A's, straightforward Straight girl

Straight hair is most beautiful.

Straight A's are most successful.

Straight forward is fastest.

Straight girls are the most perfect.

Little miss perfect That's me

And if straight girls are the most perfect, and Biana is the most perfect, ae has to be straight.

Ae doesn't get a choice.

One night my friend stayed over We laughed, and drank and ordered

And straight girls would like Maruca, sure, but not in the way Biana does. Not in that all consuming, heart wrenching, feels like ae's floating and falling and spiraling all at once way. Just in a... a friend way. A normal way. Because the two of them would make perfect friends, and anything other than that would end in fiery disaster.

So Biana makes friends with Maruca. Friends. They talk about their Universe class, and play splotching together in PE (Maruca wins; Biana gets distracted by her braids), and horribly bake mallowmelt together. It burns.

Maruca is... fun. It's fun to be friends with Maruca. Ae invites her over to Everglen for a sleepover- Della is overjoyed that Biana is finally making friends- and they have a fun time. Playing games and talking about useless shit and going to go bother Fitz and his friend Keefe.

It doesn't need to be anything different, Biana tells aerself, again and again. It's perfect like this. It doesn't need to change.

Something about her drew me in What? It's totally platonic

Biana can't stop staring at Maruca.

She feels like gravity, a star, and ae feels like a planet. They work perfectly together, orbiting around and around and around. If Maruca smiles, Biana's mind races to solve the mystery of how exactly that smile would taste on aer lips. It tastes good, ae thinks, though that's a stupid thought.

"What are you thinking about?" Maruca asks. "You have this goofy smile on your face, and you didn't hear the story I just told."

Biana turns bright red. Of course, ae can't say I was thinking about your lips on mine, because that would sound... weird. Ae has to keep it platonic, because they'll never be anything other than platonic, and it's not like ae wants that either. Ae swallows, and finally says "You. I'm really glad we're friends."

Platonic friends. Perfect, platonic friends.

That night was so exciting Her smirks were so enticing

"Yeah, I'm an awesome friend," Maruca says, flicking one of her intricate braids. Biana's eyes linger on it a little too long.

Ae clears aer throat and quickly deflects the conversation, still blushing. "You are. Do you want to go downstairs? It smells like something's baking."

"I would be honored to go eat some of your mom's amazing desserts, m'laedy," says Maruca, extending a hand with mock formality. Her gorgeous lips are pulled into a smirk. Biana's breath catches; ae wants to freeze this mental image for eternity. Cautiously, ae takes Maruca's hand in aers.

Skin touching. Holding hands.

It's stupid, it's a cliche, but it does feel like sparks shoot across aer skin as Maruca wraps her fingers in Biana's and starts walking downstairs. Aer stomach flips around excitedly.

Then ae crashes and burns. They are friends. Both girls. Friends don't get this excited about holding other friends' hands. Biana rips aer hand away and stuffs it in aer pocket. Maruca looks a bit offended, but Biana clenches aer jaw and looks down.

It hurts, but ae has to be perfect. No exceptions.

Hours speed by like seconds Then, what happens is iconic

Once they get over the awkwardness of that moment, they slip right back into the fun they were having before. Della's ripplefluffs disappear quickly, and the two of them go back into Biana's room to keep talking. Biana shows Maruca aer sketches- ae hasn't really shown them to anyone before, Alden thinks a Vacker should have a more noble profession than designing fashion- and Maruca tells Biana that ae should dye aer hair.

Alden is going to kill aer, but for once, ae isn't thinking of that. Della would probably say yes, but the two of them decide it would be more fun to sneak out, so they light leap to Slurps And Burps as quietly as they can, in silent giggles the whole time. Maruca decides to re-dye the blue streaks in her hair, and Biana opts for violet. They go back to Biana's room and laugh more. Biana wildly thinks this is the most fun ae's ever had.

It's perfect, even if ae isn't.

She takes a sip, I bite my lip She tells a joke, I nearly choke

Aer stomach is sore from laughing, and ae still can't stop looking at Maruca. She's so pretty, something ae could stare at forever if ae had the chance. The longer ae looks, the more ae notices little details, like the way her braids fall against her shoulders, and how she has barely visible freckles splattered across her nose, and how her hand brushes against Biana's every so often. It's warm, and smooth, and perfect.

Maruca is a masterpiece of a person.

Currently, Biana's fascination lies in how her lips curl around the straw of her lushberry juice. It’s disgusting and wrong and so thrilling as Biana imagines kissing those lips.

No. Stop thinking about that, Biana commands aerself, biting aer own lip to draw aer attention away.

"Biana? Bi? You listening?"

Ae turns red. "Yeah, sorry!"

"Alright, so I was reading about cowboys, except I read it as cowgoys because it was really late, which implies the existence of Jewish cows. So then the thought 'Bar Moo-tzvah' came into my head and I can't stop thinking about it."

Biana snorts; the joke is funny enough on its own, but the cute little smile on Maruca's face and the way her eyes light up nearly make aer choke.

“Shut the fuck up, brain, let me be the perfect Vacker,” ae muters, too quietly for Maruca to hear.

She braids my hair, I sit there Blacking out for the first time

Maruca says Biana's newly violet hair looks beautiful- ae needs to fake a coughing fit to keep from squealing- and asks to braid it. Biana nods, and lets aerself get lost in the feeling of fingers weaving through aer hair and brushing against aer head.

Aer eyes close- ae doesn't know when, but the room around aer disappears and all ae can feel is fingers and this all encompassing, overwhelming love ae seems to be drowning in, blacking out everything else.

Next thing I know, I lose control I finally kiss her but oh no

Without making any conscious decision, Biana spins around, cups Maruca's face, and gently presses aer lips against hers. Their flat noses touch, eyelashes flutter against each other's cheeks, lips kissing. Kissing. It's fast, and sweet, and wonderful. Biana feels aer world aligning perfectly, like this is the way everything was meant to be, and there are fireworks shooting across aer skies.

Biana smiles against Maruca's lips.

I see a face in my window Then my brain starts to go

Everything happens at once.

Maruca yelps and pushes aer back. The door swings open, revealing a shocked Fitz. Fireworks vanish, as quickly as they came.

Biana's world shatters.

Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na No, you can't risk falling off your throne

Dear Maruca,

That kiss was amazing.

But it's too risky to do again.

I'm sorry.

La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la Love is something you don't even know

Dear Maruca,

What do I know about kissing? It's not like I have anything to compare it too, besides that one time I kissed Keefe on the cheek because I thought I was supposed to. No, because I wanted to. Because I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to kiss him and I didn't want to kiss you.

I don't know what kissing is supposed to feel like. Or what love is supposed to feel like.

It'll be better with a boy. It has to be better with a boy.

I'll know love eventually, and it won't be with you.

You shouldn't love me either.

Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na You can't risk falling off your throne

Dear Maruca,

I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you-

No.

I hate myself.

La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la Love You don't even know

Dear Maruca,

Or maybe I love you.

I don't know.

I probably don't.

Because I can't love another girl, right? I have to be misunderstanding what love means if I think I can love a girl.

I don't know love. But it can't be you.

Rewind, induce amnesia Deny the truth, that's easier

Fitz tells her what to do- pretend like it never happened. That's what Alden told him when he kissed Keefe. Biana snorts humorlessly at that; two fucked up Vacker children. But ae follows his advice. Forget about it. Pretend it never happened. Never address it with Maruca; or speak to her again, really. Pretend, pretend, pretend.

Ae's been pretending aer whole life.

Life continues on, and ae pretends to be okay. Maruca makes friends with Stina, and Biana makes friends with the new girl. Sophie Foster. Sophie is nice enough, but she's not Maruca. She can't replace Maruca. No one can fucking replace Maruca, and no one should have to- ae just fucked up aer only chance with someone that wonderful. But ae pretends Sophie is enough, pretends ae's not heartbroken.

Pretends, pretends, pretends.

Pretends to be perfect.

You're just confused, believe her When she says there's nothing there

Biana talks to Maruca once.

They both apologize in the same breath.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what happened-"

"That was weird, I'm sorry-"

"I don't like you, I was just confused."

"So was I, kissing girls was just something I thought I'd try, a bit of a phase."

"No, totally, it's not like I really like girls or anything."

"Nah, that'd be weird."

They never speak again. There's nothing between them. Biana tries to believe what Maruca told aer. Ae doesn't.

“You're just confused,” ae repeats to aerself. “You're still perfect.”

It's never worth it When you're little miss perfect

Dear Maruca,

Maybe someone else can love you. Someone who doesn't have to be little miss perfect.

[hotdamnhunnam]

Red Carpet Rogue

A/N: So happy to be writing for Charlie Himself again!!! Based on the below request, in which you are Charlie’s date on the red carpet – in spite of all the flashing lights, the fancy cars, even amidst a sea of stars… the roguishly ravishing leading man only has eyes for his sweetheart ❤️✨

Pairing: Charlie Hunnam x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, savage bossy dom!Charlie teasing you in public (on the red carpet while you pretend that you want him to stop it) Request: This delicious anon request! 😋

Word Count: ~2.2k

“You nervous? Excited?”

Charlie knows it’s a big night. His voice is cool yet heated, from where he’s seated beside you in the backseat of this long dark limo ride. Soft and quiet, as he calmly rests his palm against your thigh. You’re instantly electrified—although you’ve been together for a while, still the spark between the two of you burns bright, and you can never try to fight it. 

Your godly gorgeous boyfriend flashes you a filthy smile, as you let out a guilty sigh. Feeling his naughty fingers prying at the high slit in your stylish gown and venturing inside it.

Nervous? Excited?... “Both, a little bit,” you openly admit. “Just trying to hide it.”

“Yeah, well I’ll be busy trying to hide this,” he says, sitting back, nodding down at the crotch of his well-tailored slacks; the soft fabric does little to mask his big dick. Just the thought of him getting stiff makes you a quivering mess. “Have I told you yet how hot you look in this dress? So glamorous—but God, this high slit up the side of it—so scandalous... you know I fucking love it...”

You anxiously glance at the clock, blinking at the bright digits. Mr. Hunnam referring to his cock, like this... slaying you with his smoldering stare... fingertips invading the thigh slit, inching dangerously close to your clit... really isn’t fair.

“Charlie, we’re almost there,” you tell him though he clearly doesn’t care. “Let’s not start something we can’t finish...”

He then squeezes your upper thigh under your elegant dress, making you speechless, his every move taking you right past your limits. “Y/N, when you wear shit like this... you can’t blame me for wanting to fuck you in it.”

Holy shit. Holy shit. He releases a ravenous grunt—now he’s practically touching your cunt—he means business...

But thank goodness, you’re not the only one in this car cautioning Charlie against taking just what he wants. The driver clears his throat from the front. “Pulling up in a minute.”

“Right,” Charlie backs off, with a reluctant huff, rubbing a hand across his golden scruff. Looks through the tinted windows at the flickering cameras and long lines outside. Then looks back at you, eyes so beautifully blue, downright glowing with pride. He’s been waiting for so long to show you off, let the whole world see the woman he loves. “So you ready for tonight? Your first time in the limelight?”

To be quite honest you feel terrified, on some level. So you decide to ease your nerves by saying something playful. “Guess you’ll be popping my red carpet cherry...”

“Now don’t you dare say shit like that to me,” he replies, with a devilish look in his eyes that’s so sexy it’s scary. “My dick’s too big to hide and you know it. So don’t even try. Whereas when I say shit that hits you in the pussy... gets you dripping wet and juicy... this fancy dress of yours won’t show it. No one even has to see.”

Oh God. He’s so hot you cannot. “What—”

“You heard me,” he sadistically sneers, pressing his lips against your ear. The car stops here. “Keep that pretty mouth shut, like a good little slut. That’s right. Tonight... I’m the one who’s gonna be talking dirty.”

***************

Despite those savage words he’d just spoken... leaving your pussy explosively broken... Charlie immediately switches back to being soft and sweet—just the way that you need—in this nerve-wracking moment, kissing your forehead and squeezing your hand as the limousine door swings wide open.

Your heart’s pounding so hard you think it might burst. But your man knows just how to make sure that you feel reassured. Glancing back to remind you he loves you without words, he steps out first, looking so handsome it hurts. All decked out in impeccable effortless style and that megawatt smile. On the instant you hear the whole crowd going wild. Shouts and cheers. He’s the leading man here, the star of the premiere.

And you’re... nobody, honestly. All of a sudden your head swarms with mad insecurities. How could you ever deserve to be with such a man as Charlie? Such a beacon of beauty? He’s just dating you as a gesture of charity, surely. He’s so perfect inside and out, literally, without a doubt, and you’re so painfully fucking unworthy...

Staring out the car door into a swarming sea of celebrities, you could not possibly feel any less pretty. Any less ready, to step out and join him with dignity. No matter how many times Charlie has tried to convince you, that in his view, you’re truly perfect... in moments like this you can’t stop all your self-doubt from bubbling up to the surface.

Now that he has spent two seconds making his entrance, establishing his long-awaited presence, he leans back into the open door of the limousine. Extending his hand and beaming as he beckons his woman to finally step out on the scene.

You want to disappear, but can’t bear to do that to your man—it would be so unfair to embarrass him here—so you summon up all of the courage you can, forcing yourself to smile as you take his hand. Let him carefully help you out. Welcome you into the crowd.

Oh my God it’s so loud. And so bright. For fuck’s sake. 

Overwhelmed by the onslaught of blinding white lights, you can feel yourself shake, when you hear the black car behind you drive away in your wake, so that you have no hope of escaping the night. You bow your head and lower your eyes as you feel Charlie squeezing your hand extra tight. Wishing you could just bury yourself in his arms the whole night.

“You got this, babe,” he tenderly says, words too quiet to be caught on tape. Words for your ears alone as if no one else even exists. And it feels like that’s really the case, to be honest, as he sweetly cradles your face and then blesses the top of your head with another soft kiss. “You got this—I promise. And I got you. Know I always do.”

Charlie’s words are absolute magic. As soon as he reassures you that you have this, that everything will be all right, that you’re ready to shine in the limelight and own the damn night... then it’s suddenly true.

But Mr. Hunnam is a gentleman—has always been—so he lets you take a few moments to get in the groove, confident in your every move... before he makes you fall to pieces all over again, by pouring praises on his woman, full of such pure admiration and love... and then finally whipping out his dirty talk on you.

***************

“Baby, you’re such a natural at this,” Charlie says, with a huge fucking smile on his face, in awe of how you make your way through this place with such style and grace. Just how smoothly you navigate all of this red carpet madness.

You dismiss the compliment, carrying on all calm and nonchalant. The paparazzi have far more interest in you than in your boyfriend, through the night, and you’re just taking it in stride.

“It’s whatever. They’re all just eager to snap pictures since it’s our first time in public together,” you figure. “So it’s really just a matter of reminding myself that they only see me as a story. An accessory. All just theatrics. And I don’t need to worry about showing off my best assets. It’s obvious to everyone already that I look nothing like all these incredibly attractive A-list actresses.”

Your man lets out a laugh, suddenly gripping your arm with a strength that could break it in half. Guides you off to the side, somewhere farther away from the bright flashing lights.

To everyone else all around, his movements right now might have come off all classy and soft—but deep down, you can feel all the lust underlying his love, and it’s nasty and rough.

Pulling you near, he whispers in your ear, in that way that makes it seem you two are together alone. “Damn right you don’t,” he mutters. “You don’t look a thing like the others. Y/N, you’re a thousand times hotter. Seeing you shine under the lights? Owning the night? I’ve tried to hide it but my dick’s never been harder.”

...Is he really going to get you all hot and bothered?? You try and fail to stifle back a lustful groan; you were just coming into your own, finally getting the hang of it, comfortable on the red carpet. “Oh, stop it...”

“Don’t tell me to stop, bitch,” he snaps back, his every word striking you like an attack. Scratching your every itch. “You don’t get to say shit.”

Oh God, silently moans your inner slut... the beast in him has finally been violently awakened.

“Tell you what. As soon as we get home... I’m gonna throw you down... and fuck you in this million-dollar gown... and fill you with my cum,” he grunts, exuding such dominance, rendering you numb. Knocking you dead. “Then rip this pretty dress to shreds, ‘cause you’ll look even better naked. And you’re just gonna be a desperate, dirty little slut for me and fucking take it.”

Fucking shit. Although you’re in a hidden spot that does feel somewhat secret, you’re still very much in public, so it’s not at all appropriate that you can’t think of any damn thing other than your boyfriend’s massive fucking dick. “Ch-Charlie...”

“What do you call me?”

“... Sir,” you whimper, like a needy little girl, as he takes a few strands of your hair in his fingers, and then fucking twirls. It feels like every cell inside of you just suddenly unfurled.

“That’s right,” he snarls, pressing you up against the wall, one hand grabbing your thigh now as the other gropes your nipples through your dress, kissing you passionately for a couple seconds till you’re just a mess and seriously can’t think straight at all. “Bitch, you may own the fucking night... but I own you.”

No words have ever been so true. And God, you want him to. You want your man to fuck your brains out—pussy, ass, and mouth—make you scream loud, as he fills you up good and full, ruining you in every hole, the way he always loves to do. The way you love, too. Even more than he does, to be honest. You will always fucking want it.

And he knows it. Loves the way your body shows it. Loves the way you let him own it. “Now as much as I’d love to get back to the red carpet—show off to the whole world that this gorgeous glowing goddess is my girl, and fucking flaunt it...” his voice trails off as he eyes something in the near distance, “...I think I’d rather go rogue, for a minute. ‘Cause there’s a random surface over there that’s just been begging me to fuck you on it.”

Holy fuck. Literal fuck. He’s so hot it’s a joke, and by now you can feel the huge bulge of his stiffening cock. “G-go rogue...?” you echo the words, so damn thirsty it hurts, so aroused that you basically choke.

Then you follow his gaze, toward a large cylinder of red cloth just a few yards away. A rolled up rod of scarlet. Cast aside and thrown down, horizontal on the ground. It seems somewhat silly to say, but... is that—is that extra red carpet...? You’re not sure if it’s meant to serve some sort of purpose, or if it’s just sad useless surplus. 

Either way it is very clearly out of service.

You blink up at your man with a soft burst of laughter. Asking the question to which you already know the answer. “Um... you mean that surface?”

As if there was ever a doubt, Charlie kisses the words off your mouth, and then promptly scoops you up in his arms and carries you towards it. “Fuck yeah, it’s perfect.”

“If you say so, sir...” you murmur as he pulls you closer, wrapping your arms tight around his broad shoulders.

You have no clue yet whether he intends to roll the carpet out and lay it flat, and fuck you on the floor like that... or to keep the rolled up rod of red in its current condition, and bend you over it in some crazy position... but either way Charlie already has you wrapped around his finger in complete submission.

How many people can honestly say they’ve had sex on the red carpet—literally? Surely not many. If any. But after tonight, it’ll be you and Charlie. And that’s super hot, honestly.

Fuck, you love him so much it’s a joke. You will never get over just how much you love your red carpet rogue.

And he loves you too. He’s got you. Just as Charlie had promised—you got this—the night has gone exactly as you wanted. After how nervously you’d started, your man had been all reassuring and softhearted, empowering you to truly shine on the red carpet... 

Now even better yet, he’s gonna fuck you on it.

***************

... Continued in this sequel fic!

Hope you enjoyed this, and would love to hear if you did! 🤗❤️

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[tenthgrove]

SorLato Week- Day 1

(A/N: Unfortunately this may be my only entry for SorLato week, going for the first time NSFW prompt. I tried to write for the other days but never got around to it. I may try to get another prompt done later on in the week but no guarantees. In the meantime, enjoy this total smut)

NSFW 18+

The small French town, somewhere in the vicinity of the Italian Border, does not have much of a night life. It’s population is old and, even at this early time of night, largely asleep.

A notable exception to this rule, is the two young men who roam the empty street of the shopping quarter hand in hand. It should be noted however, that neither of these men are aware that they are in a small French town somewhere in the vicinity of the Italian Border, because neither of them were awake for a majority of the bus journey they picked at random to get here. Well and truly, these young men are lost.

“Sorbet, where the hell are we?” one of them asks, looking up at his companion, whose breath becomes mist in the autumn air.

“To be perfectly honest Gelato I haven’t the faintest clue. Though I will say that the French sound a lot more French-like here than they did where we were this morning, so I gather we were travelling away from the border.”

“Figures,” Gelato responds. He wavers on his feet, though how likely it is he would have fallen over entirely were it not for his boyfriend’s grip is hard to tell. “Sorbet, I’m tired,” he complains.

“I can tell,” Sorbet notes, glancing at his watch. “I suppose it is time we found a place for the night. How about we find a hotel for a change? We certainly have the money for it.”

Gelato clicks his tongue.

“Who knew handing down a beat-down would pay so well?”

“I did, Gelato,” Sorbet smirks. “It was my job for over a year, remember?”

The pair spot the flickering lights of a small, unbranded hotel at the end of the street. They start towards it eagerly.

“Think they’ll want ID?” Gelato asks.

“Probably not. The unbranded ones don’t usually.”

“Fuck yes, an actual bed!” rejoices Gelato. Sorbet squeezes his hand in acknowledgment and smiles.

It is exactly 5 minutes later that the lovers find themselves alone in a rather dire looking reception, sans even the young receptionist, who has gone into the backroom to look for a room to give them.

“I beg your pardon,” she begins, returning to the pair. “But all we have left tonight are couples’ rooms. Would-”

“We don’t mind!” Gelato interrupts her a little too eagerly. She takes a good look at Sorbet, a good look at Gelato, and it seems to click for her. She puts a key on the desk.

“Alright then, 20 euros please.”

“Thanks. We won’t be staying for breakfast,” Sorbet informs her, sliding over the money. “And if anyone calls, we’re not here.”

“Noted, enjoy your stay,” the receptionist says. Gelato waves her goodbye and the couple depart for their rooms.

It is roughly another 10 minutes after that, that Sorbet finds himself sitting alone on the bed as Gelato tries his luck with the shower. This is followed, quite predictively, with the sound of screaming.

“There’s no hot water!” Gelato screeches. Sorbet chuckles lightly.

“I did warn you this was hardly a 5 star hotel, darling.”

“Sorbet I’m cold!” Gelato whines.

“Then come back to me darling. Let me warm you up.”

Gelato wastes no time in hurrying back out the bathroom, clad in nothing but his underwear, and throwing himself at his boyfriend.

“My poor darling,” Sorbet tuts, rubbing his arm soothingly. He presses a kiss to his Sorbet’s temple and laughs, teasingly.

“You’re so mean to me,” Gelato complains. Sorbet isn’t fooled. He sees the blond’s little smile.

“Oh, I’m downright evil, aren’t I?”

Gelato’s eyes suddenly go a bit wide. He perks up, settling his hands on Sorbet’s shoulders as he straddles his lap.

“Sorbet, you evil, malicious thing? When are you going to have sex with me?” he asks.

Sorbet coughs.

“Sex?”

“I’m just wondering, is all. This isn’t the first time you’ve held me like this, and to be perfectly honest it kind of makes me sad it never goes anywhere,” Gelato teases, touching his nose against Sorbet’s.

“I suppose the opportunity never presented itself, did it?” Sorbet comments. He’s trying to play it calmly, but Gelato can see how flustered he is. “D-does this turn you on?”

“Maybe. Is this an opportunity?”

Sorbet looks at the man in his arms. The beautiful, gorgeous creature he’s crossed a country with for the last month and a half, whose life he would lay his own down for in a heartbeat. He looks at the soft, blemished skin, the bare chest he’s touched so many times but never done more with, the messy, curled hair he strokes whenever his anxieties hit him. Sorbet comes to a decision.

“I don’t see why it can’t be.”

Gelato makes a little noise of excitement and dives in, pressing merciless kisses all over Sorbet’s lips. Sorbet does his best to keep up, but deep down he knows he doesn’t stand a chance. Not when his boyfriend is this eager to claim him.

“Fuck, you’re eager aren’t you?”

“How can I not be?” Gelato giggles. He pulls back with an air-headed smile. “So,” he begins. “What do we actually do?”

“We follow our instincts, I suppose,” Sorbet answers him, giving his hips a little squeeze.

“Yeah, okay. But you do actually know what to do, right?” Gelato checks.

“I know what I’ve heard, I’ll say that much.”

Gelato looks at him with shock.

“But- I’m not your first boyfriend right? There were others?”

“There were, but I never slept with any of them,” Sorbet admits. “I felt too… vulnerable, with them.”

“Oh,” Gelato enunciates. “So if you haven’t done if before, and I haven’t done it before… how do we figure this out?” he asks.

“Well, as I said before, I suppose we just go with what our instincts tell us,” Sorbet suggests, pecking him reassuringly on the nose. As Gelato watches, he unbuttons his shirt and slips it off, leaning in again to kiss him once more. His hand drifts to the inner part of Gelato’s thigh. “How about I start with touching you? Down here, I mean?”

“That would be fine by me,” Gelato answers breathlessly.

Sorbet slips a hand past the elastic of Gelato’s underwear and paws gently at what he finds. Taking hold, he begins to stroke it gently.

Gelato’s sex drive didn’t suddenly jump into existence when he met Sorbet. He’s touched himself before and liked it, but that doesn’t change the fact it feels so much sweeter when Sorbet does it for him. Already, he’s biting back the urge to moan.

“Does it feel good?” Sorbet checks.

“Mm. Can I- return the favour?”

“By all means.”

Gelato eagerly fumbles with Sorbet’s zipper and undoes his pants and underwear. Sorbet isn’t quite, hard yet, but he’s getting there. Regardless, Gelato thinks he can help him along. He takes hold of the thick shaft and strokes it roughly. He knows this isn’t exactly a competition, but he wants to win regardless.

“Fuck, just like that,” Sorbet praises him. “That’s just perfect.”

“My brain is telling me to put it in my mouth, should I do it?”

“If you want to, go ahead,” Sorbet permits. “Just watch your teeth and don’t push yourself, or you will retch.”

“I know what to do,” Gelato tuts, getting down on his elbows. “You wouldn’t believe some of the shit you overhear working in a bar.”

“Is that so?” Sorbet smirks. “Well, by all means enjoy yourself then.”

Gelato wastes no time. He sticks the tip into his mouth and starts to lick roughly, closing his lips around the first couple inches off the shaft as he uses his hands to keep the rest occupied. He mildly regrets that this position doesn’t allow Sorbet to get him off as well, but he’s too turned on by his current activities to care for the time being. Gelato swallows about another inch, so that the tip presses against the upper far edge of his mouth. He isn’t quite brave enough to push it any further, but Sorbet seems happy enough, so he’ll settle for this.

Gelato licks and sucks at Sorbet’s cock until his tongue starts to go numb. He starts to wonder how much longer this is meant to last, until Sorbet places a hand on his cheek to stop him.

“I don’t imagine you’d enjoy it very much if I shot down your throat just yet, so how about we save that for another time?”

Gelato pulls himself off, gulping strongly to try and return some feeling of normalcy to his mouth.

“Yeah that’s probably for the best,” Gelato agrees. “So what next? We fuck for real?”

“I suppose so. Would you rather top of bottom?” Sorbet offers him.

“Do what now?”

“Fuck or get fucked.”

“Uhh, get fucked. Having you inside me sounds hot as hell,” Gelato decides.

“Alright, I’m good with that. I’d think I’d prefer to top, so it works well,” Sorbet accepts. He pauses. He suddenly curses as though having realised something. “We don’t have lube. We can’t have sex without lube.”

“Sure we can!” Gelato insists.

“Gel, you will bleed, and you will cry, and you will hate me. We aren’t having sex without lube.”

“Fine,” Gelato concedes. “I’ll see what’s in the bathroom.”

Gelato disappears into the side room and Sorbet hears the sound of rummaging. Something makes him pause.

"Holy fuck I found some!"

"Really?" Sorbet asks.

"Yeah, there's a bottle in the bin, they must have forgotten to change it. There's still some inside!" Gelato affirms. Sorbet chuckles.

"I would normally be concerned about the hygienic implications of that, but fortunately for you I am very horny. We'll give it a shot."

“Right, let’s try this,” Gelato mutters excitedly, returning to the bedroom. Sorbet takes the cue to wriggle out of his pants. He takes Gelato’s hand as he sits beside him.

“So, how do you want to do this?”

“Not sure. But I want to kiss you lots.”

“In my lap then?” Sorbet suggests. “It’s probably best if you control the pace anyway.”

“Sounds good to me,” Gelato says, straddling Sorbet’s hips once more. He pours the lubricant awkwardly onto them both. He grabs both of Sorbet’s hands, and pauses.

“I’ll admit… I’m kind of nervous,” he confesses.

“You’ll be fine, just don’t push yourself,” Sorbet assures him. “But if you need to stop at any time, just say so. I’ll understand.”

“Okay. ‘Love you,” Gelato mutters.

“I love you too,” Sorbet smiles. They both lean forward. They kiss, and Gelato allows himself to sink down.

There’s an immediate tension in Gelato’s body the moment Sorbet enters him. He lets out a little noise of shock, or maybe pain, before settling his head on Sorbet’s shoulder. His boyfriend pets him reassuringly.

“Gel, are you alright?” Sorbet checks. Gelato nods. “Does it hurt?” Another nod. “We can stop if you want. We can always try again another day.”

“No,” Gelato insists, meeting his eyes again. “I can do this. I want to do this,” he promises. “I just- can’t move.”

“I can take over, if you’d like,” Sorbet offers. Gelato nods. “Alright, I’m just going to lie you down gently,” Sorbet explains, before putting an arm around Gelato’s back and carefully laying him down on the mattress, positioning himself over him. “There, shall I try moving now?”

“Please.”

Sorbet begins to gently thrust the first few inches of himself back and forth inside Gelato, the blond grunting slightly as he adjusts to the stretch. After the first few movements, his body relaxes, and all other signs of pain disappear. He eyes Sorbet with a look of relief.

“How does it feel?” Sorbet asks.

“Kind of neutral, now? Doesn’t hurt any more but it doesn’t really feel strongly in any other way? If that makes sense? Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise! It’s important you’re honest with me. It might not feel good yet because I’m not very deep in. I think the spot I’m looking for is further up. Mind if I try and find it?” Sorbet offers. Gelato is quick to accept. Sorbet slowly pushes the rest of his length through Gelato’s entrance and the blond feels the difference at once. He moans, stretching his legs and rolling back his head as he grips Sorbet’s hands for dear life.

“Oh god, you’ve found it. Right there, just keep doing that,” he pleads. Sorbet just can’t help but chuckle.

“Anything you say, darling.”

The next few minutes go by in a whirlwind of bliss. Gelato quickly gives up on any hint of dignity as he moans without care, and even Sorbet feels his grip on control start to fade. They start to forget that there’s anyone else in the world except themselves, and each other.

It occurs to Sorbet he probably can’t hold it much longer without cumming. Eager not to leave Gelato unfinished, he starts to rapidly pump Gelato’s cock to spur on his climax. A moment later and they’re both spent, lying in a breathless heap on top of each other as Gelato feels his insides becoming filled.

Sorbet kisses Gelato on the forehead, then climbs off of him. Excusing himself, he heads into the bathroom for a drink. He hears his lover calling to him.

“Sorbet, my legs aren’t working!”

“Just stay there my love,” Sorbet says mirthfully. “I’ll clean you with a towel, and you can wash properly in the morning.” He returns to his side with the promised item. “Hey, you did wonderful,” he assures him. He leans in close as though to kiss him again, but Gelato gets their first and nips his lip.

“You know what you’ve done now, don’t you,” Gelato smiles.

“Oh? you’ll have to tell me.”

“I’m going to need that every night now, otherwise I’ll be unbearably needy.”

Sorbet tuts.

“However will I survive?”

Their lips meet once more.

[jlalafics]

Ok so you just wrote me a gorgeous drabble and here I am wanting more, bc you’re just too good. On my way to the gym this morning I almost crashed my car bc I saw sexy construction workers and was wondering if sometime in the future you would maybe consider ConstructionWorker!Peeta? Maybe Katniss almost crashed her car staring at that ass? Lol sorry for being so needy... 😘

I hope you enjoy @mrspeetamellark, trying to think up a story title and story cover concept right now because I’m liking this Everlark so much.

Thanks for the prompt, doll! <3

_____

“Yes, move that meeting to the afternoon,” Katniss told her sister. “Snow wants to meet about the Gilmore divorce proceedings.”

“Got it,” Prim replied from the speakers of the car. “Where are you?”

“Just turning onto our block,” she informed her. “It looks like they’re finally renovating the building next to the office…”

Katniss’ eyes were suddenly drawn to a figure standing out against the rest of the men gathered at the site. He was leaning against one of the wood slats that surrounded the property, blond and broad wearing a fitted white t-shirt.

Suddenly, his eyes drew up to meet hers.

Azure blue greeted her own steel ones, the man’s mouth widening into a smile, his expression warm and sweet.

Before morphing into panic—

“Holy fuck!”

Katniss swerved just in time to avoid a squirrel crossing the street and just barely maneuvering her car from crashing into a tree. She managed to save face, making the turn into her office’s parking garage and then into her assigned space.

“Are you alright?” Prim called out. “For a moment there, I thought I lost you.”

Katniss turned off the engine, taking in a calming breath.

“I’m fine. I’ll be up in a minute,” she responded before hanging up.

This is what she got for even looking at a man. It was a sign from the gods telling her to focus on work and not on her lack of a social life.

Too bad, though. The man was awfully cute.

++++++

“Peeta!” Turning, Peeta found Finnick—one of the other construction workers and his childhood friend—heading towards him. “Your dad said that we could take our lunches now.”

“Fine with me,” Peeta agreed, pulling off his construction helmet and tucking it under his arm.

The two headed down the street, grabbing some sandwiches from a nearby deli before heading back.

“So,” Finnick began, as they sat down at the tables set-up in front on the construction site. “I saw that your lady almost damn near crashed into a tree this morning.”

“She isn’t my lady,” Peeta muttered, unwrapping his sandwich to avoid his friend’s teasing eyes. “She’s just a beautiful woman who I happen to admire—who would never look at someone like me.”

“She did notice!” his friend exclaimed. “That close call happened because she was looking at you. Maybe you should go over to her office building and introduce yourself, ask if she’s okay—”

“No, no, no…” Peeta shook his head. “She’s high class and I am…me.”

“Peeta—” Finnick looked to him in concern. “You are a good guy. Stop being so hard on yourself. Just because one woman couldn’t look past your circumstances, doesn’t mean they all will.” His friend’s sea-green eyes darted behind him. “In fact, I’m going to help you out—”

Sticking his middle and index fingers into his mouth, Finnick let out a loud whistle.

“What are you doing?” Peeta asked in confusion.

His friend ignored him, looking behind Peeta and pointing at him.

Then, he was being yanked by the forearm from his seat and being slammed against one of the wood slats of their construction site.

Up close, her eyes were smoky and full of fire—because she was pissed.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” she demanded. “I am not the kind of woman who needs to get whistled at to feel like she’s hot. In fact, it’s downright demeaning! If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was introduce yourself like a normal person—”

“Wait!” She stepped back, but her grip on the front of Peeta’s shirt didn’t let up. “I never whistled at you. It was my friend; the idiot with the red hair who is currently trying to skulk back into our construction site, so you won’t manhandle him like you’re doing to me.”

The woman turned just in time to see Finnick guiltily rush into the construction site.

She immediately released her grasp, her olive complexion flushing scarlet.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” The woman let out a nervous laugh. “It’s just been a hell of a day so far. I almost crashed my car this morning—” Her grey eyes widened. “It’s you!”

He held out his hand to her. “Peeta Mellark.”

She took it and Peeta let his thumb brush against her rich skin. “Katniss Everdeen.”

“Now that we’ve officially met,” he started. “Are you okay? It was a close call this morning.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “It’s just been so busy with meetings and I have to go grab lunch—”

“Split my sandwich with me,” he offered. Peeta nodded at the still wrapped sandwich on the now empty table. “Or I’m pretty sure there are few birds that would be happy to take your half.”

Katniss flushed. “You sure?”

“I insist.” He led her towards the table, pulling out a chair for her. After sitting, he pulled one of the wrapped pieces out and handed it to her. “Turkey and provolone, no tomatoes.”

“That is my exact order at Sae’s Deli!” Katniss said as she unwrapped her half.

Peeta grinned. “It’s where I got it.”

“So—” She placed her sandwich down and turned to him. Peeta examined her, perfect posture, a heart-shaped face, and smooth shoulder-length waves greeted his appreciative eyes. “—why did your friend whistle at me?”

Peeta let out a breath.

“The first time I came by to examine this construction site, you came to your office,” he explained. “You were wearing a red romper and your hair was in a braid. You were about the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Ever since, I guess I just looked out for you. Finnick just happened to notice and thought he could help things along…”

Peeta waited for her to recoil or grimace. It sounded pathetic, the way he always made sure to look out for her black BMW in the mornings. However, to him, it was just not a good day if he didn’t see her lovely face, even if it was just through her car window.

“Did you want to have dinner?”

He turned to her, his jaw dropping. “What?”

Katniss blushed, her eyes going to her lap.

“I think you’re cute and I almost crashed my car looking at you,” she revealed slowly. “And it seems like a sign that we should look into whatever this is. Also—” Her eyes met his, glowing brightly. “No one has ever called me beautiful.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he said softly. “I would love to have dinner with you. You have to let me pay, though.”

“Is that some sort of manly-man bullshit?” she retorted with a grin.

“No, my mother would kill me if she found out that I didn’t pay on the first date,” Peeta explained. “She’d think that it would be a horrible start to our epic love story.”

“I like your mom already,” Katniss told him. “How’s six sound?”

“Perfect.”

“Katniss!”

They turned to find a pretty blonde and a dark-haired woman with a squared gaze approaching.

“My sister and one of my associates,” Katniss told him. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small case and taking out a business card. “My cell number is on it—text me when you can, and we can go over details for tonight.”

“Sure,” he replied in a daze.

Taking her sandwich—they both had foregone eating—Katniss stood, but not before pressing a kiss to his cheek and giving him a breathtaking smile.

“I’m looking forward to tonight.”

+++++++

Over texts, Katniss and Peeta decided to meet at an Italian restaurant close to her apartment.

“I can’t believe you asked that guy out!” Johanna, her roommate and one of the other lawyers in the firm, said from her seat on Katniss’ bed. “You, who won’t even agree to coffee when any other man offers, asked a construction worker out to dinner.”

“He’s not just a construction worker,” Katniss protested. “He’s Peeta Mellark, a guy who I think is really nice and easy to talk to—”

“And let’s not forget the ass,” came a shout from Prim, who was searching in Katniss’ walk-in closet. “Don’t act like you weren’t looking at it when he got up to go back to work, Katniss.” Prim stepped into her bedroom, holding a deep-purple dress with a v-neckline and three-quarter sleeves. “I knew you tried to hide my birthday present! Put this on so he can rip it off you.”

Katniss scowled at her. “Who taught you to talk like that?”

“You did,” Prim retorted with a cheeky grin. “Now, go and get ready. I’ll lay out some underthings for you.”

Katniss headed towards her bathroom.

“Prim, I’m not sure how long it’s been since anyone’s been down there,” Johanna quipped. “You might want to pick something that covers that jungle.”

“I’m on it,” her sister replied as Katniss was about to close the door. “Tonight, we’re just emphasizing her boobs.”

“Good luck with that,” her friend retorted.

++++++

Their dinner was going surprisingly well.

Katniss hadn’t been on a date for almost a year and she had worried over the thought as she walked over to the restaurant

That was until she saw him.

Peeta cleaned up nicely, meeting her in a dark green sweater, fitted jeans, and brown oxfords. In his hand was a single pink peony, which he held out to her after kissing her cheek in greeting.

They both settled at their table, ordering quickly (eggplant parmigiana for her and lasagna for him) before falling right into easy conversation.

Peeta’s family owned the construction company that he worked for though, he was the only family member who worked onsite besides his father. Peeta’s mother worked at the home office as the company’s administrator. He had two brothers, one of which owned his own bakery business and ran it with his wife who had been his high school sweetheart.

“I think you’d like Delly,” he told her. “She’s very down-to-earth which works out perfectly because Rye is all sorts of insane. He’s the kind of guy who will wake up in the middle of the night to make the perfect chocolate cake. Luckily enough, Delly is the kind of girl who will stay up and write out everything he’s done because he’s forgotten by morning.”

“And, your other brother?”

“Runs a small hotel upstate. It’s the perfect place for Christmas,” Peeta said. “Andy and his partner Gale turned the place into one of the top hotels to experience wintertime. It does help that they both have a great sense of style.”

“So, your brother is—”

“Gay as the day is long as he would put it.” Peeta grinned. “He and Gale have been together forever. They’re one of the most stable couples I know.” He met her eyes. “How about you?”

“I grew up about an hour out of the city. My parents were high school sweethearts, married right out of high school. Had me about a year after their wedding and four years after me, Prim was born.”

Katniss stopped for a moment, taking a long sip. This part was always the hardest to explain.

“My father passed away when I was six and Prim was two,” she continued. “My mom brought us here to the city to stay with my Uncle Haymitch while she got back on her feet and find a job. We woke up the next day after arriving at his place and she was gone.”

“Oh God, Katniss—” Peeta reached over, covering her hand with his. “—I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t feel sorry for us. It was probably the best thing she could have done for us,” Katniss told him, her voice still a little thick. She gave him a wet smile. “Feel bad for my Uncle—single guy in his prime having to take on two young girls. Did you know when I got my period, he bought five different types of pads? I know, too much information—”

“I like learning about you, Katniss,” he told her. “Every little bit I’ve learned, I like.”

“I feel the same way.”

It was true. Everything she learned about man before her had only compounded the growing feelings inside her. Peeta was breath of fresh air in her staid routine and every bit of time with him made her feel like she was slowly coming back to life.

Peeta squeezed her hand, she didn’t realize their hands were still pressed together—but she didn’t mind it.

“Go on,” he urged with an eager smile. “Tell me more.”

“When I was in sixth grade, my uncle came for a parent-teacher conference and met my teacher, Effie Trinket. A year later, he married her. She’s great, got me through those tough girl years. She and my Uncle are disgustingly in love.” She snorted, taking a long sip of water. “That’s my odd little family.”

“Have you heard from your mom?” Peeta asked curiously.

Katniss shook her head.

“I don’t have a real desire to. I’m not mad at her anymore, but I can’t say I’d be thrilled to see her again. Prim doesn’t even remember her. She calls Uncle Haymitch and Aunt Effie Mom and Dad.” She sat back, giving him an embarrassed smile. “That was more unloading than I intended for a first date.”

“Honestly, I’ve been watching you for a while,” Peeta revealed. “Finnick is sick to death of hearing me talk about the gorgeous brunette next door. That’s why he whistled at you; it was to save his ears from my own insecurities when it came to you.” His face had gone red. “I know you’re some big-time lawyer and I’m just some guy—”

Katniss shook her head. “You’re not just some guy.”

Peeta grinned. “I hope not.”

After he paid for dinner, they decided to walk to her apartment since it was a warm night.

As they strolled down the block, his hand brushed against hers before carefully grasping her fingers. Katniss took the initiative, entwining their fingers together, and Peeta turned to her, lifting her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles.

She felt the heat rise up her body, her center twisting at the feel of his rough lips to her skin. She had to wonder how those lips would feel against the rest of her body, specifically between her thighs.

It had been a long time since she had sex.

“Nice place,” Peeta said as they approached the luxury apartment complex. “I know the company that worked on them, Beetee Latier is a smart guy and I’m willing to bet that this place is very up-to-date when it comes to virtual assistance.”

“I’ve never tried it, but Johanna has said that she can tell the apartment when it’s too cold,” Katniss told him offhandedly. “And it raises the temperature according to what is comfortable.” They stop outside the entrance and she turned to him. “Thanks for dinner and the conversation.”

“Thank you for giving me a chance,” Peeta replied.

His hand reached, cupping her cheek and his thumb brush against the edge of her bottom lip before dropping to his side. Katniss felt every nerve pulsate at his touch and she had desperately fought the urge to take his thumb into her mouth to taste him.

She wanted to ask him to come up, but her need to not seem so desperate dampened her longing.

Reaching into her purse, Katniss took out her keys, giving him a shy smile. She quickly kissed him on the cheek.

“Good night, Peeta.”

His hand reached to a tendril of her hair, caressing it with his fingers as if he were trying to memorize the feel of it between them.

When Peeta met her eyes, her breath caught at the desire in his darkened blues. “Good night, Katniss.”

“Fuck it—”

Katniss snapped, her keys dropping to the ground in a loud clink, as her arms wrapped around his neck and she pulled his mouth against hers. Peeta gasped in surprise before catching himself and circling his arms around her waist to pull her close.

He tasted delicious, her tongue surrounding his as she feasted on him. Her hand reached to grasp at his hair and the moan that tumbled from his mouth cause the fire inside her to flare. She had never wanted anything or anyone as much as she wanted the feel of him against her.

His lips slid off hers, pressing to her neck, his tongue sampling her.

“What are you doing to me, Katniss Everdeen?” he asked breathlessly, the intensity of his question sending shivers through her skin.

Katniss met his eyes, her chest heaving as she felt the rapid beat of her heart.

“I’m taking you upstairs.”

 So, there’s going to be a 2nd part to this. I’m having too much fun.

Yeah, I’ve been shipping Gale with the eldest brother since TWC.