#well this was thirsty

[writer-and-artist27]

Tumblr Short Story: "Unholy" Kisses

Summary: This is a day that never dawned, a night that never came to be. A time where a Master spoke up beyond her mortification, saying things that inevitably led to more earlier down the line.

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Note: This is probably the most “thirsty” story I’ve written in a hot minute (and that says something when I’m the ace and look at most thirst-related FGO artwork with a One Punch Man “okay” face), and I’m affectionately blaming Sebas/@exmeowstic for this due to his encouraging it. And also inspiring me with his recent commission artwork for Passing Days. Thankie, beloved friend.

Note that the following does have spoilers for the manga adaptation of Salem, as well as consist of an AU/alternate universe of Passing Days proper. Kinda like a “what if” scenario after the ending of Day 45, where specific things could’ve played out differently. With a lot more yearning and kissing mixed in. So. You’ve been forewarned. 

For a song to listen to, I recommend Kyle Landry’s 2021 piano cover of Dearly Beloved from Kingdom Hearts.

Please enjoy!

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“From what I’m aware of,” Sanson said with a face, giving Robin a look over Vy’s head, “your injuries aren’t serious enough to prevent you coming back into the troupe full-time. But I did have to apply stitches to your wounds, so at the moment, bedrest is a must, Archer.” 

“Of course,” Robin deadpanned, unable to keep the grimace off his face in spite of Vy continuing to cling to him with her arms around his neck as he patted the top of her head. “How’s Circe?”

“Working,” Sanson replied, turning back to the nightstand to start packing up his first-aid supplies. “Last I checked, there were still a few things she wanted to adjust within her workshop, so I imagine she wants to be left alone for now.” As a bottle of antiseptic went back into his duffel bag, Robin could hear the soft clink clink of the glass bumping something inside. “She was the one to bring you back here, after all.” 

No wonder the little sparrow was so worried. Robin glanced down at the brunette still hugging him with an internal sigh before returning Sanson’s gaze with a wry smile. “That explains things.” To Vy, he couldn’t help but raise his other arm to start rubbing comforting circles into her back, unable to ignore the growing wetness on his shoulder as she trembled against him. “Little sparrow,” he whispered, “I’m not going anywhere. You can let go now.”

To both his and Sanson’s surprise, Vy furiously shook her head, merely tightening her grip in the hug as she buried her face into his neck. “D-Don’t wanna,” is the mumbled response, sounding almost like a petulant child as she continued to have a bad case of the sniffles. “You w-worried me, you absolute dork…” 

“Vy…” 

“Which I understand your feelings, Master, all too well in fact,” Sanson put in, softer this time as he reached out to rest a hand against Vy’s shoulder, “but your clinging to him may make it harder for his stitches to stay in place. Is it alright if you could let him go now?”

By that point, Robin’s not sure whether to glare at Sanson or not as a soft “Ugu” tickles his neck, but Vy still loosens her grip on him as she pulls back from the hug. It didn’t stop him from feeling a nugget of guilt start to weigh down his stomach once he takes in the look on her face, and Sanson seems to notice it too, because he withdraws his hand in half the time it takes for Vy to sit back in her chair at Robin’s bedside, long brown hair shading her eyes. Tears still tellingly glisten from her cheeks and at Robin’s shoulder where she was crying, and the little sparrow proceeds to shakily reach into one of her pockets on her Standard Chaldean uniform. With another sniffle (not muffled this time), she pulls out a microfiber cloth, taking off her glasses to start wiping at the lenses with the small thing. “‘M… ‘m sorry,” comes out in a shaky wisp of a voice, hints of another sob climbing up her throat as she swallows thickly. “I… I…” 

“Vy,” Robin said softly, giving Sanson his own look before the Assassin could open his goddamn mouth again, “it’s okay.” 

Mid-wipe of her glasses, a few droplets fall onto the lenses past her fingers as Vy’s shoulders shake. “N-No, no, Robin, it’s not… it’s not…” A noise caught between a sob and a high-pitched wail then leaves her mouth, echoing in the room enough to make Sanson freeze in place as she shook her head. “It’s not okay, it’s just not…” 

Oh no, Robin thinks.

“I’ll…” Sanson gulps, looking more and more uncomfortable by the second as he zipped up his duffel bag, slowly backing away to grab his coat as he inched closer towards the door. “I’ll take my leave now. I… I can see I have intruded on what appears to be a private moment, so you two can hash things out, Archer,” he then adds hastily, his hand finding some kind of purchasing grip on the doorknob before throwing open the door. “Don’t push yourself, Master,” is all he leaves Vy in passing as the door closes behind him, locking in place with a very solid click, and by then, Robin is left alone with his little sparrow.

His crying, very upset little sparrow. 

Normally, Robin would’ve been pissed at Sanson leaving him to handle the work. But in this case, he couldn’t be bothered to even feel angry. 

Not with Vy still crying in front of him.

“Vy,” Robin tries softly, sitting up and scooting out of the bed some to extend an arm in her direction. “It’s not your fault I got hurt.”

“B-But I was the one who ordered you to go out there with Circe to investigate the Whateleys, Robin…” Vy shockingly clams up in response to his touch, folding her glasses in her palm to squeeze with the microfiber cloth like a gosh darn stress ball as she brings her knees up to her face. “I was the one to ask you to go out there, and you…” This time, there is a sob as she shrinks further into her own little ball. “You could’ve d-died.” 

And that’s the crux of the issue, isn’t it? Robin already knew Vy never liked seeing the people around her hurt. Heck, he knew things Sanson and the others didn’t thanks to their bond, from how she tried her best at everything, how she worked harder than anyone else just for the people she loved, even if it meant making a false image of being happy for her parents when they worried — forcing a smile for that aunt of hers who was still in the hospital for a cancer she wasn’t sure about when on a call before this whole mess of a Singularity. It didn’t make him feel any less guilty at knowing his calculated risk of a plan with Circe to face off against that fake-Lavinia ended up hurting her. Again, after what happened in SE.RA.PH too. And here he thought he was doing better at making it up to her. 

“‘M sorry,” Vy sobs before Robin could open his mouth, wiping at her eyes fiercely with her sleeve while refusing to move from her new burrow of her knees, even if it meant her tears were starting to darken part of her stockings. “‘M sorry I wasn’t… I wasn’t there for you… I—” 

“Hey.” Robin could feel his voice crack as he reached over, his hand finally finding some purchase in resting on top of her hair. “Hey, Vy. Don’t say that. That’s not it at all.” I could never blame you for a plan that went wrong. “I was the one who agreed to the plan. Besides, you did what you could, little sparrow, and it’s okay, really. Don’t clam up on me and just look at me, will you?”

Vy sniffled, but after a few more coaxing rubs of her head, she slowly peeked out past her wet stockings to meet his eye, and Robin couldn’t help the smile growing on his face as he reached over with his other arm to pull on her chair. Once the bottom half of the chair hit the mattress with a quiet thump noise, he reached out to her on instinct, ignoring his abdomen screaming at him from the bandages as his arms encircled her trembling form to pull her into him. Something small yet sharp was poking his waist, probably Vy’s glasses, but he couldn’t care less. Not right now.

“I’m still here, little sparrow,” he whispered, stroking her hair once her nose softly bumped his other, less wet shoulder. “I’m not dead yet. Just a bit mana-drained and hurt, that’s all. It’s not something we both can’t fix. So you don’t have to cry.”

Shaky hands reached up to press against his chest, a few more telling sniffles echoing into his neck as Vy slowly nodded. Then, to Robin’s surprise, she whispered, “S-So… if you got mana, you wouldn’t be as hurt right now?”

Robin blinked, pulling back some to let Vy wipe at her eyes with her sleeve as his muscles in his arms tensed. “I mean… yes?” Where are you going with this? 

Vy ducked her head, extending one arm to drop her glasses and microfiber cleaning cloth onto the nightstand where Sanson’s duffel bag once was in time with her taking a deep breath. In and out. From their closeness, Robin could feel her chest heave from the effort. “Th-Then…” her ears turned pink from what he could see past her hair as she scrubbed at her face with her other sleeve. Were her cheeks turning pink too? “What if… what if I kissed you?”

“…Uh.” It took Robin a moment too long to realize he choked on his own saliva. “What?”

Vy inhaled sharply. “I-I said… what if I kissed you?” She then raised her head to meet his gaze, and Robin knew he wasn’t mistaking the bright rosy hue of her cheeks as the color spread to her nose. Embarrassment and familiar hardy determination shined in her red-rimmed eyes, all the more clear without her glasses as she stared at him. “I-I heard from Da Vinci a while back how mages could transfer mana through the… the exchange of fluids,” she stammered, shaking her head but still scooting closer to him, her fingers bumping his. “A-And said fluids could be anything from blood to saliva to…”  Robin could then do nothing but watch as Vy covered her reddening face with both hands, shaking her head vigorously as she bit out, “Sexual fluids, and, and I thought saliva would be the safer option!” 

…She went there. She really went there. 

“Little sparrow,” left Robin in a voice he briefly couldn’t recognize as his own, “you don’t have to do that. Assassin stitched me up and bedrest is already on my agenda.”

“B-But!” Vy peeked at him through the cracks in her fingers, her brown eyes pleading now. Ack. “You’re still hurt, Robin…!” 

“That doesn’t make it permanent, little sparrow,” he says, and goddammit, now he’s blushing too. “You don’t have to push yourself for me.”

“But it’s you!” Vy blurts out next, making any protests on his tongue crumble away once her hands fall to her lap and make fistfuls of her skirt. “I-I know, I know kissing without consent is considered sexual harassment, but it’s still you, you’re still hurt, and…” Vy shuts her eyes tight, enough for a stray tear to form in one corner (from her previous crying, no doubt) and slowly trickle down her red cheeks as he watches. “I don’t want to lose you, Big Robin. Even if I… I’ve never kissed someone ever, I’d rather kiss you if it meant not losing you. If it meant letting you live.” 

Now what could he possibly say to that? To his little sparrow, with her shaking shoulders and fidgeting hands, basically offering herself to him on a metaphorical silver platter?

Robin exhaled a breath he didn’t need, feeling sweat start to form on the back of his neck as he considered. Da Vinci, Arturia, Achilles, and some of the other Servants back home definitely would have his head in the end if things went wrong (and really, what could be more wrong than what was going on now?), but, at a time like this— 

“Okay,” he relented weakly. “Let’s do it.” 

“…Huh?”

“Hey.” Robin reached over to take one of Vy’s hands in his to squeeze, unable to hide the weak grin forming on his face as he met her eyes. “It’s not sexual harassment if I consent to it, right?”

“Um,” Vy blinks, her cheeks turning redder by the minute. “Yes? I-I mean, I think so?”

How did I fall in love with such a clumsy little sparrow like you? A traitorous part of him thinks. Outwardly, he chuckles, tugging on her hand so that she’s leaning into him now. Her hands are pressing against his chest as his other hand slowly cups her cheek. “Then let me take the lead this time,” leaves him in a huff of a breath, unable to hide the delight starting to bubble up in his throat at the sight of Vy’s eyes reflecting his image alone in time with her cheeks turning rosier with his slow closing of the distance. “You’re shaking too much, Vy.” 

“I-I’m sorry…” But Vy still leans into his palm, her cute pink lips parting some as her eyelashes fluttered at him. “I know I said what I said, but I-I really don’t have any experience with this…”

“Then close your eyes, little sparrow,” he whispers, his thumb rubbing at the corner of her eye where that one tear once was, wiping at it with all the care a ghost of a man like him could give. “I’ve got you.” An inch away from doing the deed, he finishes with a faint, “Stop me with a Command Seal if you ever feel uncomfortable.”

Vy still lets out a sound close to a whimper once his lips gently press against hers, but she doesn’t clam up like before. If anything, she tenses up just a bit, frozen as he moves his mouth against hers, but her hands aren’t pushing him away. To his surprise, they’re trembling against his chest, weakly clutching at some of his bandages and even the chain to his silver necklace around his neck for some kind of relief (or maybe to cling to him?) to match her timid demeanor. It’s a mild kiss, not nearly enough to exchange saliva like she probably intended to, especially considering it’s just a light press of mouths to begin with, but it’s soft and faintly sweet. In all honesty, Robin wanted the gesture to last for a single moment — not too long so that Vy could regain her composure, but when pulling back and looking at her red face, something inside him somehow snapped. 

So cute… 

A soft “Wah!” is then muffled between them as Robin leaned up to press his lips to Vy’s again, and this time, he swallows the noise in its entirety as he opens his mouth to trace her own with his tongue. She shivers even through the palm he has on her cheek, shyly opening her mouth after he rubs a coaxing line into her back with his other hand, and then her tongue carefully touches his. It’s just as shy when it comes to moving around, but Robin can’t help the smile he has going on mid-kiss because his taste buds finally get a taste of what he’s been dreaming about. 

Sweet. Just like maple syrup. Did Mata Hari make pancakes for Vy’s breakfast? 

Vy lets out another noise as he continues the kiss, something along the lines of a surprised “Ah!” this time. Her grip on his bandages and necklace weakens as she goes on to melt into his arms, the energy seemingly leaving her body as she leans into him. Her fingertips gently brush the skin along his collarbone a second later, making his heart jump when it didn’t need to, and so he can’t help the hand he has on her back moving to her waist to pull her down with him to the bed. Once his head hits the pillows behind him, he can feel her long brown hair tickle his cheeks as energy surged through his veins, the kiss barely stopping for breath because he finally got a taste and it’s not enough. 

My little sparrow… 

“B-Big Robin…” Vy squeaks (something along the lines of an embarrassed “Fwah—!”) once he pulls back and then his lips inevitably find hers again, interrupting her attempt at a sentence as the palm on her cheek moved, cupping the back of her head to keep her close for as long as he could savor it. Her weight doesn’t feel heavy against his abdomen as electricity tickles the back of his brain, his bandages for once not screaming at him as she leans against them, her chest pressing against his to the point he could feel how soft it was. Her tongue is pliant as he tugs at it with his own, the heat of her cheeks starting to warm his with the closeness as he tilted his head the other way. It’s not even a question of whether saliva is being exchanged anymore — every passing second has more mana running through his arteries and Vy is still kissing him back. 

It takes Vy letting out another whimper for a shred of Robin’s common sense to come back, but it doesn’t last long once he breaks the kiss (was it the third? Or the fourth?) to take in the shininess of her lips and the bright red rosiness of her cheeks. 

This little sparrow of mine… 

Robin doesn’t realize he’s hastily unbuttoning the collar of Vy’s Standard Chaldean uniform until Vy’s eyes are wide open and she’s squeaking again, but he doesn’t regret pushing her hair back and pressing his lips to the column of her exposed neck where he could feel her pulse, nipping there some with his teeth to encourage more noises out of her throat. A little “Nn” here, an embarrassed “Ah!” there. They made up such a unique little song, just for him. It all sounded so cute, so irresistible, he really couldn’t help it. Plus Sanson locked the door, so he could do that much.

Despite his True Name, Robin Hood was still a petty bowman who could fall to the charms of a lovely young lady. And the young lady in his arms, Vy — it was still his little sparrow. His and his alone. 

A small red mark lingers on Vy’s skin once Robin’s given her neck enough attention through so many trails of kisses, and looking up revealed Vy staring at him with wide and teary eyes past her curtain of brown hair. “Th… that wasn’t part of what Da Vinci told me,” she whispered, but the tiny smile and the little bit of embarrassed joy leaking through their bond reveals she’s not averse to it either. “But um… Robin?”

Robin grinned, moistening his lips with a swipe of his tongue. “Yeah?” 

“Uh.” Vy blushes, her hands still pressing against his bandaged chest and collarbone. “Could you… could you kiss me again? O-On the lips, I mean? You still look hurt…”

What an excuse. I can’t even feel the stitches anymore.

With a chuckle, Robin sat up on the bed to take Vy into his lap, retracting the hand he had on her head to rest it against her chin, his thumb unable to help itself from tracing her bottom lip. It was a little swollen compared to before, but it was still so soft and pink and cute. “Be careful with those words, little sparrow. You’ll be eaten up by the big bad wolf at this rate…” 

“N-Not if it’s you, Big Robin…” she insists, but she still closes her eyes and leans into his touch as he ducks his head to kiss her again. “I-I think I’d only want you anyways…” 

Well, damn. Robin already knew if Abby walked in, the scene he’d be making with his Ringmaster would probably look “unholy.” But at this point, with Vy shivering in his arms and being oh so receptive to a former bandit taking her first kiss and then some, he couldn’t find himself caring much. The atmosphere was growing hotter, the air was getting stickier, and Vy was tasting sweeter. 

And hey. Even a bowman like him could take some pleasure in tangling his fingers up in his little sparrow’s brown hair to pull her closer for more breath. More of her taste, more of her tongue, more of her lips when he never got such a delight out of them before. It honestly made him wonder why he didn’t kiss her sooner, because nothing in his time alive really compared to this. His old policy of “no strings attached” be damned — it weighed nothing compared to feeling his own Maid Marian melt against him, making noises only he could hear thanks to his actions. 

“R-Robin…” Vy’s hands tug at his necklace this time. “Th-The others might come in later if we’re not careful…”

With another press of his lips to hers, Robin shrugged. “That’s what my cloak is for, isn’t it?”

“M-Muuu…” Her tongue still weakly reaches out to intertwine with his once he dives back in. “D-Dork…” 

“Love you too.” 

“Muu—ah!” And oh, Robin liked the sound of that one. He should nip at her neck more often.

In yet another kiss, Robin absently decided to bandage up Vy’s neck later so that no one would ask questions. Those marks were his and his alone, and no one else had to know. That was that.

Knowing his little sparrow, she wouldn’t mind talking it out. Probably. 

[pangur-and-grim]

this was original plan after I broke my leg into three pieces, but the person I was texting yelled at me until I went to the hospital

[mmmairon]

Please. I don’t want to hurt you.

Inspired by @wyvernne ’s vampluc

[buggachat]

Also my AMENATH COMIC GOT MARKED MATURE LMAO??????

[thirstygothamcitizen]

love the headcanon that despite being tall as shit, Jon weighs practically nothing

[canisalbus]

For how much Machete is described by others as off-putting, he really is a beautiful dog. Does Vasco ever tell him so? That his eyes make him look earnest, his fur the most comforting shade of white like cream, the way his ears catch light like stained glass? If someone doesn't tell him so, he'd forever think he was ugliest duckling

I think Vasco definitely tries, sincerely and often, but Machete is very reluctant to accept compliments and positive feedback. Especially if it's about something as personal and innate as his looks.

[chevvy-yates]

[NC_RES]-31102049-EUR-GER scharfenberg_g_portraits_043_1_CCR_HB_JP_HB.file ///core:_ryder_von_scharfenberg.file\\\

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⚠️ READ: Please do not repost/reupload any of my art here or to any other platform, or I will be forced to do anything to get it annihilated.

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[do-what-you-want-with-me]

BRETT DALTON as Mark Trent Found 1.06 “Missing While Addicted”

[brewed-pangolin]

I’m making it canon that Soap was actually raised in a big fucking family and I mean big, from my understanding there’s a good size Catholic community in Scotland, also was raised by two parents who are absolutely in love with each other and thus enters you. Soap makes it his damn mission to not only knock you up if you are a person with a uterus but he’s got the biggest breeding kink I’ve ever seen and just the thought of this fucking beefy man, absolutely destroying you just to create, what’s in his head, a perfect little family ughhhhh makes me sweat and cry and puke and drool!

I agree with the first part 💯! And I'm going to do a bit of a self plug here.

My fic First Flight of the Scottish Hawk breaks down the dynamics of the MacTavish household.

He has two sisters, three brothers, and two parents who absolutely adore him.

I won't lie, I could gush so much about this. I have a special place in my heart for this fic. But I don't want to bore anyone with that.

From here we move onto the baby making factory that is John 'Soap' MacTavish.

Just a bit of NSFW under the cut...

--

Once you and Johnny decide it's time to add to your own family, you'll be hard pressed to have a moment of peace to yourself.

Man's on you like clockwork. The menace even has an app that follows your cycle. Knows exactly when you're most fertile and will bury himself so many times into your aching cunt that you'll be nothing by a babbling mess by the end.

He desires nothing more than to see you heavy with his child. Watching as your overly plump belly moves with the next generation of his family name. And he'll put as many mini MacTavish's in you as you so let him.

--

Now, I'm going to go onto the side of the spectrum because I am of this ideal. And I know I'm not the only one who stands here.

Johnny is a man who has nothing but respect for his lover. He may have a breeding kink like no other, but if the one he loves does not desire to have children, then he's still game.

Adoption is always an option. And it doesn't always have to be children.

You want to raise a family of Scottish deranged huskies. He's in.

Maybe become the resident cat household that welcomes all those felines who were cast away and forgotten by previous families? Soap's got two cat condos in his Amazon cart and ready to purchase an overpriced cat tree.

How about a farm with a family of goats, cows, a miniature horse, and a donkey? He's already signed the mortgage for a plot of land nestled in the country.

The point is that Johnny loves who he loves. Whether they want a family of mini MacTavish's or to run a sanctuary that puts the local zoo to shame.

Johnny boy will stick with you thick and thin. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

[comfortzonelol]

The only time I look tall pt. 2 (눈‸눈)

[braceletofteeth]

1x01 || 1x04

[hyunpic]

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Prompt:

“PSA: Girls who wear Skechers don’t give BJs”

Have some high school Everlark, Anon. They’re seniors in this, so 18 or about to turn 18 years old. RATED M.

***

Peeta smirks slightly at the ridiculous graffiti on the bathroom wall. What, he wonders, does a girl’s choice of footwear have to do with her willingness to go down on a guy?

He digs a sharpie from his book bag and uncaps it before scrawling a response.

Or maybe you’re just an asshole no one would blow anyway.

He finishes and washes his hands, adjusting his bag on his shoulder as he makes his way towards his locker.

“What’s so funny?”

He glances up and blinks at Katniss Everdeen. Momentarily speechless at the sight of her, cheeks flushed and braid slightly disheveled.

“What?” he asks and she motions towards his face.

“You were smiling. That cute little smile you get when you’re amused.”

“Cute little smile?” he teases, his mouth stretching wider into a real smile. “You think my smile is cute?”

“Shut up, Peeta. It’s been six months,” Katniss mutters with a roll of her eyes.

“And what? I can’t still be in awe that the Katniss Everdeen not only actually agreed to date me but also thinks my smile is cute?”

“I’m dating you strictly for the cheese buns and the guaranteed prom date,” she retorts as she places a hand on his shoulder for balance. She works off one of her character shoes.

“I’ll take it.” He holds still for her and nods towards her feet. “Show choir practice ran late?”

“Trinket’s got a bur up her butt about the performance this weekend. You know how she gets.”

“Girls. You cannot hold back. Each movement must maximize the fabulousness of the routine!” He mimics and Katniss snorts slightly.

“I just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible,” she explains why she didn’t change her shoes before leaving the choir room.

“I’ll rub your feet later,” Peeta promises quietly. Katniss’s expression softens and her eyes dart around the hall before she leans in and presses a quick peck to his lips.

“And there’s another reason why I’m dating you.”

“Don’t get too excited,” he says. “I may ask you to reciprocate tonight. My calves are still burning.”

“Coach still pushing you guys hard over that bullshit second place last week?” He nods and glances down as she tugs on her sneakers. Sketchers.

His lips quirk and she freezes with her left shoe only partially on her foot.

“There it is again. That smile.”

“It’s nothing. Dumb graffiti on the bathroom wall.”

“Oh?” Her eyebrow lifts and Peeta sighs, knowing he won’t get away with distracting her again. He leans in close to whisper in her ear, even though it’s over an hour since school let out and they’re probably the only ones left in the halls.

“It says ‘PSA: Girls who wear Sketchers don’t give BJ’s.’” Katniss makes an indignant noise and Peeta chuckles lightly as he returns to his locker, finishing swapping out what he needs to finish his homework tonight. “Told you it was dumb.”

“And clearly wrong,” she says, sounding almost offended.

He shuts his locker and turns to her, amused now by how pissed off she looks. “Come on, Katniss. It’s probably just some butt hurt Nice Guy whining because no one would blow him anyway, Sketchers or not.”

“Then why were you smiling?” Katniss demands and realization of what she must be thinking about smacks him in the face. He steers her towards the doors, out into the parking lot where his beat up hand me down car is parked.

“Because I wrote something to that effect in response,” he tells her.

“Oh.” She says, but she still can’t quite meet his eyes. “So the other day, when I couldn’t… you know…”

They’ve reached his car and Peeta maneuvers them so that she’s backed up against it. He leans in close, nuzzling beneath her ear and lacing their fingers together at their sides.

“I don’t care, Katniss. How I feel about you isn’t dependent on whether or not you do something like that.”

“But… you want it,” she says softly.

“Of course I want it,” he whispers. “If it happens, I’m gonna love every second of it. But if it never happens, that won’t change the way I feel about you. Okay?”

She’s still biting her lip, but she nods and lets Peeta open the car door for her.

“Come on. Let’s get you home so we can take care of your feet.”

She climbs in and he makes his way around the car to do the same. They’re mostly quiet on the drive to her place, but when he parks in her driveway, he can’t resist leaning over to kiss her once. Just a quick little one because he knows how she feels about people seeing them. Mainly her neighbors, in this case.

“Besides,” he murmurs when they separate, “how am I gonna complain about it when you changed your mind because… what was it you said?”

He knows he’s got a shit eating grin on his face now, and Katniss is blushing and scowling at him.

“You know exactly what I said. And that smile is not cute,” she huffs, motioning towards him. But he still can’t wipe it off his face as she clambers from the car and he follows her.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget what happened when they’d gotten a little hot and heavy, tucked away in a dark corner of her backyard while her parents were working late and Prim was sleeping over at a friend’s. The sudden drop of his stomach when she tugged his shorts down and his cock bobbed up only for a dark scowl to take over her face. And Peeta started to panic that there was something off putting about his dick. Maybe he hadn’t washed well enough after practice and smelled a bit funky? He was about to suggest they try something else, about to call it off himself when she’d blurted out one of the biggest ego strokes she’s ever given him.

“How am I supposed to fit all of this in my mouth? Unhinge my jaw?”

Not that she’d never seen him before, but he supposed she’d never given much thought to sucking his dick until that moment. Her perturbation had put a rather abrupt halt to their making out, but Peeta sure as shit wasn’t gonna complain about it.

Her words had spawned an entirely new string of fantasies that had driven his frantic shower time masturbations for almost a week since it happened. Katniss getting him off with her mouth, without putting his cock in her mouth at all. Other than maybe just the tip.

Inside her house, Katniss calls out to make sure Prim’s already made it safely home on the bus, bringing him out of his memories and back to the present.

“I’m here!” Prim shouts back and Katniss double checks the notes in the kitchen so she knows when to get dinner started for her parents.

Peeta stands beside her and helps where he can. When they reach a point where Katniss can take a break, she takes his hand and leads him to her bedroom. Technically, her parents have a rule against Katniss having any boys in her room, especially when they’re not here. His palms sweat a little with nerves, that they might get caught, but this isn’t the first time they’ve broken the rules. And Prim’s already shown she won’t tattle on them.

He’s expecting her to sit on the bed and take her shoes off, but instead she locks the door and shoves Peeta back on the bed. A second time to get him to lay on his back.

“Foot massage?” he asks dumbly as she climbs on top of him, hovering over him on all fours. But then her mouth is on his and he gives up on talking. Resting his hands lightly on her hips, he follows her lead with the kisses. She’s being aggressive today and he shudders when she bites down on his bottom lip. Whimpers into her mouth when her hand slides down his body and starts palming him through his sweatpants.

“Katniss,” he whispers when she lifts her head and slides her hand back out of his pants. “Come here. I wanna taste you.”

He moves to push her hips up his body so she’s sitting on his face, but Katniss shakes her head. And then his throat constricts and dries out completely as she turns herself around, still on all fours, so her knees are on either side of his chest.

“Katniss what are you—?” He tries to ask as she shoves his sweat pants down his thighs. He obediently lifts his hips to help, hissing and gripping her thighs as she wraps one hand around his cock to pull him out of his shorts.

“I’m proving that asshole graffiti wrong,” she murmurs and Peeta’s eyes roll back in his head as her lips slide warm and wet over his tip. When he turns his head to moan into her pillow, his eyes land on her shoes, still on her feet. Her Sketchers. He’s staring at them a few minutes later when he warns her that he’s about to come. And he’s still staring at them when he resurfaces from the haze of his release, a slow smile spreading over his mouth.

[seukorei]

shirtless chuuya sketches i did for my friend ..

[smallest-moon]

i love them <3

[blockmenobsessedperson]

I’m still stuck in the Desert guys. 😔😔 I’m actually slightly proud of this one for once though! I also made one that looks like a Watcher and a Vex’s arm to match these two but that one kinda looks like doo doo so I’m not gonna post it here.

(Grian on the left Scar on the right. The two bracelets on Grian’s arm are from Scar(the green one) and Taurtis(the blue one). Scar, of course, has a red bracelet with Grian’s feather.)