but look at the beautiful close ups

Klance Week 2017

Day 4 : Welcome Home

She kept her eyes open. She was focused looking at one object only. It was almost a hundred percent covered in blue, and there were green and brown patches spread throughout it.

Allura awed at the beauty of it. Long ago her father would take her out to outer space and she would look at her home planet, Altea, from far away. Seeing Earth from up close was a sight. She wondered how it would look like if she landed on it.

“We’re…back,” Keith exhaled. “It may not be all over but we ended Zarkon’s reign. And we’re back to Earth.”

A tear rolled down Lance’s cheek. “We’re home,” he said. He grabbed Keith’s hand and held it tight. “I can’t believe we made it.”

“Lance.”

“What?” Lance turned to Keith.

“What will you do when you get back there?”

“Um, I’ll go back to my family, of course.”

“That’s…great,” Keith smiled.

Lance looked down on the floor before he realized something. “You-you lost your family! I’m sorry Keith, I did not mean to—”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Keith nodded. “I have no idea what to do back on Earth so I guess I’ll do whatever life takes me to.”

“No Keith, it doesn’t have to be like that,” Lance said, now holding both of Keith’s hands close to his chest. “You can come with me. I will introduce you to my family.”

“But you are…different. You are bringing home a boyfriend.”

“They’ll understand about that. I don’t love them for nothing, you know? They accept me for who I am. And they’ll accept you too. My siblings will love you! Don’t forget my mother. She’ll take care of you like her own son.”

Keith giggled at that.

Lance pressed his lips to Keith’s forehead, taking in the scent of his hair still wet with sweat. But Keith saw his chance and grabbed Lance’s collar and kissed him on his lips, his hands now resting on Lance’s shoulder as Lance hugged him close, not minding the audience. Shiro smiled, Hunk distracted himself and even Pidge - the Pidge - crossed her arms and shook her head in happiness.

***

(Read while listening to Amazing Day by Coldplay for the best viewing experience XD)

The same night when they arrived on Earth, because they came back early in the morning.

Keith and Lance sat on the roof. The sky was clear and lots of stars were visible. Lance would often point out a star and mention its name and Keith would grin at his boyfriend for no real reason. He was exhausted. He could sleep forever. But he did not want to waste some good time with Lance, staying up at nine and looking at the stars from Planet Earth.

Keith cleared his throat and reached for Lance’s hand. It was something that he could hold on for a long time, forever even. He does not want to lose sight of Lance. He wants to know where he goes, what he does and who he meets. How protective.

“Your family is very nice,” Keith said. “They are friendly and warm and they accepted me well.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Lance replied. He inched closer to Keith, now shoulder to shoulder. “Would you come back to your house? Or Garrison?”

“As long as you’re with me,” Keith said. “And I’m not even joking, Lance. I’ll go if you’re with me. Like, partners in crime or something.”

“We are boyfriends, Keith,” Lance emphasized. “I can’t go calling you ‘partner’ or something.”

“So I’ll call you 'boyfriend’? Geez, that’s the best nickname someone could ever get.”

“Yeah, or 'asshole’, because you call me that all the time. In the past.”

“You called me 'dropout’!”

“Oh my, can we like, stop arguing for just a day?”

“That’s a challenge, right?”

“Challenge accepted.”

There was a pause until Lance continued. “Well, I’d go to Garrison. We can like, be normal kids again. We may be the paladins of Voltron but honestly, I won’t waste this chance. To be just a normal person without having to defend the Universe again, you know?”

“Then I’ll come with you,” Keith said. “Amd Hunk and Pidge. Matt and Shiro are graduates and they’ll be doing their own stuff at Garrison too.”

“Last time you got kicked out because of…disciplinary issues. What was it?”

“I got caught smoking. And other issues.”

“Aw, I thought there will be no secrets between paladins.”

“I thought you said you wanted to live a normal life, not defending the Universe as Voltron Paladins.”

“Still,” Lance begged.

“No way.”

They laughed at that. It was silly, it was small, but it meant a lot. They’re back on Earth. Home. Something they’ll never forget about. And Keith, he would spend his time for Lance. He kissed Lance’s cheek before whispering “I love you.” He looked into Lance’s eyes, feeling himself drifting away as he looks into Lance’s irises, bright and twinkling under the stars.

Earth. Lance McClain. No other place like home.

“I Don’t Need Your Attitude.”

I think 23 + rafael x reader would be perfect


“Mi amor, we’re going to be late!” He called from the living room.

“Beauty takes time, Rafi.”

“You’re already beautiful and you could have started getting dressed earlier, instead you laid on the bed in a towel until 5:57pm, knowing we needed to be out of here by 7:15!” You could hear him pacing. “And to top it off, you spent 10 minutes changing the type of shoes you were wearing! And 20 minutes one your–”

“I don’t need your attitude, Rafael Barba.” You snapped coming into view.

He was silent as he eyed you up and down.

“I take that look as, ‘Oh, mi amor, you look beautiful!’” you mocked him as you approached him in his tux.

“You do look beautiful.” He pulled you close and kissed the top of your head.

“See, this takes time.” You replied gesturing up and down your body. He just rolled his eyes and lead you out the door.

anonymous asked:

For the bullet point imagines can it be dancing with Eric at like 3 in the morning? Could you also do a Dylan one?

  • The two of you would have been up for ages, neither of you would have slept yet
  • it would be at the point of the night where you’d done all the exciting stuff like watching movies and now the two of you were chilling with some music on quietly in the background
  • You’d have made him laugh I think and he’s watching you with eyes literally filled with love
  • Then in the silence after his laughter a new song comes on and its a slow but catchy one you both really like, with a good beat and stuff
  • you would stand up and start swaying a bit, maybe closing your eyes and humming or singing alone
  • he’s still got his eyes on you, thinking about how beautiful you are
  • then you’d open your eyes and see him looking
  • “come on silly, dance with me!”
  • “You know I don’t do that…”
  • “Just one time! For me.”
  • And then you’d walk over, still dancing a little, and take both of his hands and gently pull him up.
  • still holding his hands, you’d start to sway more as it hit the chorus, singing softly
  • the rest of the world doesn’t exist anymore and it’s all dark outside and you could have been on saturn for all you knew
  • he’d kinda stiffly shuffle in time to the beat
  • “you can do better than that” you might chuckle at him
  • over the course of the song he loosens up and you end up doing a few twirls and spins while he holds your hand, and he’d say things like ‘you’re so good at dancing hahaha’ and ‘watch your feet!’
  • then the next song would come on, and the next, and they’re all just making it more and more fun
  • eventually you let go of him and really get into the music with your eyes closed and you’re moving like water and he’s just watching you again, just so happy idk
  • you’d collapse on the bed when you were done, so tired bc it’s literally almost 4 am
  • this is not very good bc it’s so hard to describe dance

(you can read this from the point of view of both boys btw I feel like they’d be pretty similar in this situation) xxx

Closing Time

Summary: Aya is incredibly tired after a long day of work, I help her close up. 

As I made my way into the salon, knowing my way there even when it was dark out. I had been there enough that the route was completely burned into my mind. Walking there almost felt subconscious at that point. Though, I never went there to buy any products or get anything done. 

Yet somehow I, a girl who rarely wore makeup, had fallen for the woman who runs the local beauty salon. There was something about the way she handled herself that made me unable to get her off my mind. Her low and sleepy voice, the way she ends so many sentences with a dreamy sigh. Those striking blue eyes, her hair that’s always so neat even when she’s in the middle of a busy day. She made me dizzy just from talking to her. 

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sana, my beautiful darling. she’s making these walls she’s learned to build up around her over the years even thicker, because of how much she’s been hurt lately. it’s too much, what she’s been through, in such a short amount of time, and you can tell just how…emotionally exhausting this has been for her. you can see it in her eyes. and she’s at a point where she can’t risk getting hurt more, so she’s closing herself off. building that though exterior. making herself look and sound though. and the saddest thing about this is that you get the feeling that she’s…given up. but can you even blame her? you can’t, not after everything that happened on may 12th. she is just so tired. 

and now, she’s not letting herself feel, because not feeling at all is much better than risking getting her heart broken again, multiple times  

Sweet Creature

Click here if you’d like to listen to the song to help set the mood. x

It was one of those days.

Harry adored his job. He really did. His work was his first love, he always said. But there were certainly days where it all got to be a little too much.

He woke up at six in the morning to be greeted by a rainy and foggy sky outside. He spent a good ten minutes gazing at the great love of his life, her hair splayed in all different directions from having forgotten to tie it up in a ponytail like she usually did. Her lips were slightly parted, and her eyes were still puffy from the night before. He exhaled a sigh at the memory of it—it was the first time they’d really fought in a little while, but it’d been a doozy. Exhaustion took it’s toll on the both of them, but they were both too stubborn to admit it. It had been over something petty that he wasn’t even angry about anymore, even though at the moment in all seemed so important. And even though they tried to never go to bed angry, their tired eyes beat out the need to make up.

He exhaled a soft sigh as he watched his love, and he could see the tension built up in her features still from last night. He didn’t want to wake her just yet, because he knew that she would not love being woken up at six in the morning if she didn’t need to get up. The two of them rarely ever got a good night’s sleep anymore, and he didn’t want to take away her rest.

He got himself out of bed and walked over to the bathroom, going about his morning routine as quietly as possible as to not wake his girls. Within half an hour he was dressed up in a pair of black jeans and one of his button-ups. Usually he wouldn’t get so dolled up to go out this early, but he had a few morning radio shows he was making a live guest appearance on and impressions mattered to him. Having decided to get breakfast on the way to work, he quickly slipped out of the house without making a sound.

The rest of the day didn’t get any better.

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Babygirl

Summary: Dan is an innocent virgin and Phil is the bad-boy who likes to make him flustered. High school Pastel!Dan and Punk!Phil AU

Genre: Smut that’s kinda kinky but mostly cute

Word count: 4,039

Kinks: Feminization, daddy kink, dirty talk, a little verbal humiliation

You can also read on AO3 here.

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His Throne [JHS]

Genre: Smut, some angst, some fluff

Word Count: 4,413

Summary: You, a maid for the royal family, have sex with the irresistible prince Jung Hoseok on his throne.

Tags: degradation, some praise, choking (kinda?), prince!Hoseok, dom!Hoseok, thigh riding

Written by: Admin Jifairy

A/N: So I figured since I just turned 18, I should challenge myself and write my first smut! It kinda totally sucks, but what can ya do?  PCs to vikttoria16.

Version: Jimin | Jungkook | Namjoon | Yoongi | Seokjin | Taehyung


You’d been working for the royal family for over a decade now. You knew every nook and cranny—every secret passage and hidden room in that palace. It was practically your home. You took care of it, constantly sweeping and dusting and mopping.

You also took care of Jung Hoseok, the spoiled prince residing in it. You always cleaned his room, washed his clothes and made his meals. But then somewhere in the mess of everything, you began taking care of him in a different way.

You always had a close friendship with the prince but that’s all it was—friendship. Until one day, two years ago, he approached you. That’s when it all began, your secret relationship with the seductive prince.

No one knew about your relationship, everyone always assumed it was purely friendship. No one ever expected the handsome prince to fall for a lowly maid like yourself, which made the relationship all the more perfect, in a sense.

At least twice a week you two would meet up for discreet, eager sex, and today was one of those days.

“Come ride me,” Hoseok demanded sternly, eyes already mentally undressing you. He sat in his gold throne with his crown sitting crookedly on his head. His robe fell around him, engulfing him in a pool of black fur.

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this was tangentially inspired by naked ambiton, is my first “fic” in approx 47593 years, is both my first ever check please fic and bitty/jack fic so here we go, also i’m always on mobile so i can’t do a read more sorry

At first, Jack is a little weird about his body.

He’s not ashamed of it, per se; it’s more that his relationship with his body is complicated. Jack works really hard. He needs his body to be strong and fast. He’s constantly naked around other people whose bodies are also strong and fast.

He just, you know, doesn’t really want people to look at him.

All Bitty does is look at him.

The first few times they have sex, it’s rushed in the dark. It’s always been a while since they’ve seen each other, Jack reasons. It’s always a lot of pent up longing and only a little time for romance. Jack likes the feeling of Bitty’s body againt his. They fit. He just doesn’t necessarily want Bitty to see it.

But Bitty’s always looking.

It’s mid-morning and Jack is trying to sleep in on a very rare day off. His curtains are a gauzy medium grey and they let in a gauzy medium light. Jack’s on his back, sheets pulled up to his navel. Bitty’s eyes are closed and his hand is tracing circles across Jack’s ribs.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Bitty murmurs, almost to himself. Jack feels his face warm. “Truly a masterpiece.”

Bitty trails his hand trails down Jack’s stomach, sliding the sheets out of the way. Jack tenses, a small thing, and Bitty’s fingers still.

“Hey, Jack,” Bitty says softly, eyes still closed. “Hey.”

Jack swallows. Says, “I, uh.” Stops.

Bitty’s fingers start moving again, slowly. He hums, waits for Jack to continue.

“I just don’t really.” Pauses. “Ah, I don’t.”

Gently, Bitty curls in a little closer to Jack, rests his forehead on Jack’s ribs.

“I don’t like the stretch marks,” Jack whispers, eyes squeezed shut. “They’re ugly”

Bitty hums again, softer this time. His fingers trip over the worst of them, right on Jack’s hips. They’re a faded silver now but Jack will always remember the angry red they were, stretched tight and deep. He tries very hard not to twitch away from Bitty’s fingers but God he wishes, fiercely that it was night again. He thinks Bitty’s eyes are open now, looking, and he wishes it was too dark to see.

“Jack,” Bitty whispers, “Honey, you’re perfect.”

Jack’s breath catches in his throat.

“You’re so perfect,” he says again. “Strong, because you need to be. You’re so strong and so capable and your body is everything but–but ugly.”

Bitty sounds almost offended on Jack’s body’s behalf and Jack can feel a small tear roll down his cheek. Both of Bitty’s hands are on him now, smoothing over Jack’s skin as he places tiny kisses across Jack’s ribs.

“You’re everything, Jack. You’re everything good in this world. No part of you is ugly.”

Jack can feel tears caught in his throat and he tries to swallow them down, drown them with big, steady gulps of air. One of Bitty’s arms is tucked under Jack’s back, the other across his stomach in a soft sideways hug. Jack snakes a hand down to hug Bitty closer to him. Takes another steadying breath.

“Now turn over so I can objectify you from a different angle.”

Jack snorts, caught a little off guard, and doesn’t let Bitty go as he flops over onto his stomach. Bitty is laughing, tangled under the mess of blankets and the heat of Jack’s body. When Bitty finally emerges, pink-faced from struggling, laughing and bright-eyed, Jack is grateful for the soft golden light filtering through the curtains.

It was with a warm hand on Castiel’s shoulder that Chuck watched his son die for the first time. Watched as the archangel shredded Cas under the weight and pull of angelic power. It was messy. It was callous.

Chuck wiped his blood-covered hands on his jeans, feeling the way the slick met rough—what was left of his son smeared on the denim.

Dean had come and gone and Chuck was left, sitting in the red-painted house, knowing that somewhere, his firstborn son was breaking free. Going to end the world.

Chuck sighed, grabbing a bottle of liquor from the counter and taking a deep swig. He could still see the glow in Castiel’s eyes. Not from grace, but from something perhaps more pure. Like a memory of the light once used to create the earth and all the creatures that inhabited it. The light that Chuck had given his creations straight from his own fingertips.

Cas, you beautiful idiot, he had thought as the room shook and he watched his son hold his ground, his last breaths rooted in a pearl of hope for the Earth. Hope placed in the small hands of two forgettable hunters fighting against the rising powers of hell.

The brave sacrifice of the brown-haired, blue eyed angel who died to save the world would likely never be told, but still, Chuck couldn’t help but think that it was the stuff that stories were made of.

It was quiet now, in the kitchen with the reminder of Cas, the man who’d ripped up the pages of destiny and spat in the face of fate. The man who’d scoured the earth in search for God with nothing but a second-hand pendant and a desire to protect.

Chuck closed his eyes, tightly. A desire to protect, he thought, his mind drifting back to the sense of wonder he’d felt when he’d first created his angels.

He sat down and poured a little drink on the floor in tribute before squeezing the bottle between his knees. And he tried not to remember that he had the power to protect, too. To protect the world from the impending apocalypse. To protect Castiel.

He didn’t. He wouldn’t. It was a promise he’d made a long time ago when, in an effort to “save,” he’d purged the earth with water. What surprised him, however, was how men continued to preach in his name, building philosophies and stamping them with heaven’s seal without care to God’s sanctions.

“Maybe my children make better Gods than me,” Chuck considered, finding himself again drawn to the two young brothers that, even now, were facing Michael and Lucifer when even their own God couldn’t.Dean and Sam were better men than their father, Chuck thought, and Cas was a better man than me.

Chuck stared at the way the room wore bits of Cas and wondered at the feelings of sentiment he felt. True, Chuck knew all of his angels, but he couldn’t find it in himself to understand why he felt the world was smaller now in the space since he’d watched Castiel die. After all, it was simply the natural order of things. He created angels like shooting stars: fiery, fierce and beautiful. And, like the meteoroids plowing through the sky, Cas had come too close to the earth, burning up inside the atmosphere.

Once, Chuck had commanded the angels to love the humans. The angels had become volatile, hardened creatures, made for duty with no one to serve. Statues of rigid perfection.

Chuck looked down at his own hands, letting his mind wander through the intricate designs of the human vessel he’d created for himself. Human flesh was so different than the fierce ether of an angel. He’d created them with the heads of beasts and great spanning wings. They were formidable, truly, they were. And yet, Chuck knew, even then, when he’d first birthed them, that humans were his most beautiful creation. They were breakable, small, and beautifully flawed. And, he’d known then, too, that he’d created mankind to save them all. To save the angels. To save himself.

It was his own last beacon of hope, that perhaps they could all become something more than the patterns of war and violence that had emanated from him and poured into his creations.

Chuck smiled as he looked at the Supernatural books, knowing he had found it. His broken children who had become more than their God, willing to die for the sake of the planet.

They had transcended him. He always knew they would. But, what had surprised him was the angel in the dirty trench coat and blue eyes, falling away from heaven’s glory for one man. One human. An angel that had such faith in and love for humanity that he’d given up everything.

Chuck bowed his head to his chest. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t get involved. And yet, he could still hear Castiel’s prayers in the back of his head—months of the angel’s voice crying for an absent God to step in and save his children.

And Chuck knew what he had to do. Though it wasn’t much in the grand scheme of things—a small gesture, really. But significant nonetheless.

Slowly, he leaned down to the floor, touching a spot of red with his finger. He watched as the bits of Cas responded, finding their way back to the whole. It was a fascinating process, to see the parts of Cas’s vessel come together, gathering, binding, creating arms, legs, a face. Until, suddenly, he was staring at the calm features of Cas’s body, laying down with his eyes closed, as if he could be asleep.

Then, with a breath, Chuck pulled light from the skies, infusing grace and soul and power to recreate Castiel’s true form, creating a sacred space inside the simple kitchen of Chuck’s home. It felt wrong, in a way, to bring so much of his God self back to the place where he had gone to leave it all behind. And yet, it also felt right. To put something back together again after such a long time of watching things fall apart.

And, finally, it was done as he gingerly placed Castiel back inside the man laying on the ground. He watched as the vessel’s chest hitched with the first breath of life, and smiled when he looked at the body he’d created just for Cas. For the angel who wanted so badly to love humans. In a way, now he could be one. He thought Cas would like that he’d made him look like Jimmy. That maybe he’d find it easier if he could look in the mirror and see the man whose face had first chosen to be so autonomous and free from heaven.

Cas’s eyes were still closed, and Chuck knew he couldn’t let him wake up here. He couldn’t face his son. Not now. Still, he was surprised to find himself kneeling on the floor of the kitchen, running his hands through the soft parts of Castiel’s hair, his thoughts, surprisingly far away from the ending of the rest of the world. Instead, he placed a kiss on top of Cas’s head, sending him to a beautiful forest, by a stream to wake up.

And then the kitchen was empty again, the clock on the wall ticking loudly, and the stain from the spilled alcohol shining on the floor.

Chuck contemplated what he’d done. Wondered at his own need to break every rule that had bound him for centuries and heal one lowly angel when he’d let hundreds of others die.

But, he thought he already knew the answer. Where Chuck had made humans in a deliberate effort at salvation, one lowly angel had been a surprise. A miracle. And, as Chuck sat back in his chair, he smiled as he admitted it to himself: it turned out that maybe it wasn’t just the humans that were there to save. It turned out that maybe, just maybe, a forgettable, self-sacrificing angel with blue eyes and too much heart could be the one to redeem them all.

It’s A Comfort Thing

Author: @sincerelystiles
Pairing: Dylan x Reader
Word Count: 3,738

Warnings: nsfw aT ALL THIS IS SO SINFUL I’M NOT EVEN SORRY 

A/N: i was gonna keep this fluffy, but we all know it’s pretty impossible for me to not write sin for dylan, so here you go!! also i apologise for how dirty this got. fUCK. and thanks to my bby @sabrinas-wolves for helping me with this and the puthey… and this is dylan pov

listen to this


Originally posted by arkhamcutie


my baby: text me when you’re on your way home so i can start dinner xo

dyl pickle: will do xx

I shove my phone back into my pocket with a smile and rub my hands together eagerly. It had been five months since I’d been home, which also meant five long, agonisingly lonely months since I last saw Y/N. Admittedly, I’d much rather be home with her right now, either fucking the shit out of her, or holding her close to my chest as I wash her hair in the bath tub. She always loved corny shit like that. But unfortunately, I wasn’t. I was in my dressing room, waiting with T-Pose to be interviewed with Ellen DeGeneres.

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A Little Closer

Author: @sebastianstandoffish

Pairing: Reader (She/Her) x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Sequel to A Personal Connection 

Word Count: 4k+

Category: SMUT DIRTY SMUT

Warnings: Cursing (per usual), pretty explicit smut (18+ you guys c’mon)

A/N: I’m so so sorry this took so long! I was struggling between pulling this one out of a very reluctant brain and writing some other stuff, but I hope you like it all the same!


After 72 years of ice and abstinence, Bucky worried his skills in the bedroom might’ve been a little rusty.

When (Y/N) had challenged him to just about the sexiest competition in the history of everything, he’d been absolutely floored. He’d thought about that girl for months: what he’d do to her, what he’d let her do to him (it was a little obsessive if he was honest with himself.) So, as she’d looked at him with darkened eyes and a wicked smile on her lips, he should’ve felt ecstatic, ready to haul her ashes right then and there. Instead, he’d floundered, blurting out the name of a diner a few blocks from the Tower and insisting they go right then.

Two weeks and the best six dates of his entire, excessively long life later, he was preparing to finally take the next step.

Maybe it was how much he’d grown to like (Y/N) and the fear that he would disappoint her, or how much time had passed since the last time he’d knocked a girl’s socks off, but he was freaking out. He felt like such a baby, whining and not doing backflips up and down the hallway at the opportunity to have sex with such a beautiful, kind girl.

He was probably going to hurl as soon as her saw her.

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—Morning After, touken headcanon/fic  ƸӜƷ

Summary: the morning after, chapter 125. Mini fic/headcanon.

Again, another mini fic/headcanon! you can read the rest of my headcanons/mini fics here, I hope you guys enjoy this ♡ let’s cry together because this is real and canon :’)



His scars tell a story.

Touka reads it with her fingers, nails softly outlining the marks tracing the shape of his bare shoulder, fingertips floating just above his skin and her touch feels so tender, so ethereal… almost as if she wasn’t touching him at all. His wounds tell a story she has learned to memorize over the years, the story of a boy with a broken heart trying to find someone willing to mend it. She can find herself on his marks as well, fingers tracing the spot she had bitten many years ago, she can read their story on his skin just by touching him, she can remember, and feel, and love… it’s all there, right in front of her.

The morning sunlight feels like golden rain caressing his features, and her hand suddenly stops when it reaches his lips, softly parted and breathing life. Her fingertip caresses his lower lip, his chin, the rosy tone of his cheekbones… Touka can’t help but smile a little, heart fluttering furiously.

“Kaneki,” she whispers.

He stays the same, with his arm under her head and the other weekly wrapped around her waist, keeping her close to him. She smiles softly, head popping up on one hand as she leans closer to his face, lips brushing his cheeks.

“Kaneki,” she repeats, her breath tickling his skin.

His eyebrows frown a little, babbling.

“Mmrphh…”

“Wake up,” she mutters, spreading kisses across his face, ending at the corner of his lips.

He grimaces again, readjusting the grip of his arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

“W-Why…”

Touka sighs, going back to her old position and landing her gaze to the only window inside that building.

“Because,” she says, resting her head against his arm. “It’s already morning. We have to go back.”

He nods, lazily, but doesn’t make an attempt to get up or even open his eyes. He stays like that, breathing slowly, and Touka doesn’t think she has ever seen something as peaceful as this. Her hand reaches out to touch his hair, brushing it slightly, his lips drawing out a sluggish smile that makes her heart stop.

“Kaneki.”

His eyes open drowsily, smiling at her, and Touka can’t help but smile back, her face burning and not because of the sun brightening the walls. Kaneki takes her hand, holding it against his cheek, letting out a deep sigh.

“Just one more minute.”

She lets him stay like this for a while until her back starts to sore and she has to sit on the floor, stretching her neck and arms, making a disgusted face. Damn floor. Her hands reach out for her shirt, undoing the buttons, and her eyes flicker when she feels Kaneki’s fingers touch her back, tracing a small pattern on her skin. So he is awake, after all. Touka takes a deep breath, trying to concentrate on what she’s doing, not being truly able to hold back the feelings that curse through her body whenever he touches her. Is it… always this way? Will it always be like this? Not that she complains, of course, but still—

“Don’t you feel uncomfortable?” she asks, putting her shirt on as she peers down at him, he has his eyes open. He’s staring at her back like she’s some kind of nude goddess. She tries to remain calm. “The floor isn’t particularly warm, you know.”

She adjusts her sleeves, leaving the shirt open, and suddenly Kaneki’s body raises from the ground. He settles by her side, yawning, and leans to rest his head against her legs in a fetal position.

“Now I’m fine,” he says, closing his eyes again. “But you are right. We should… uh, get a bed. N-Next time, I mean.”

“Next time?”

He bites back a mischevious smile, cheeks burning brighter than the sun.

Touka stares at him in silence, she can’t breathe properly yet, probably she never will, but she smiles at knowing that she’s the only one who gets to see him this way. Smiling, sleepy, drowsily resting his head against her thighs to find warmth, wrapping an arm around her leg, desperate for the slightest of her touches.

The only one.

She’s the only one.

Touka’s hands dance through his hair, trembling softly, and she can spot a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his lips. They’re so close, so close, and there’s nothing around them that can tear her away from him. Not anymore, not unless she allows it. And she won’t. Not now, not ever.

“Kaneki…”

“Mmmh?”

The fact that he isn’t looking at her makes the whole situation less embarrassing. It makes her brave, somehow, to ask.

“Was that—“ she begins, a bit unsure. “Was that your first kiss?”

He sighs in response, eyes still closed.

“No. I’ve been practicing on random strangers for a while now,” he grins, wild hair spread all across her legs, lips smiling at the stupid joke. “Yes. That was my first kiss.”

Her heart pounds, sending shivers down her spine.

“Mine too,” her voice comes lower than usual, almost as if she’s speaking to herself, but Kaneki is not deaf to her words anymore, and he listens, every single one of them.

He smiles softly. He’s been smiling since he woke up and she suspects he will keep doing it for a while. His hand takes hers, their fingers intertwine, he keeps pretending a fake sleep and Touka allows him to stay this way a bit more, Touka and Kaneki are silent for a long while, listening to the wind, feeling their throbbing hearts through the connection of their fingers, feeling each other even with their eyes closed.

It’s not that their bodies are naked or that he’s resting against her legs, but the moment is filled with an intimacy that Touka knows she has never shared with Kaneki before. She keeps stroking his hair, fingers humming a soft lullaby against his skin. He’s awake, he’s alive between her arms, he’s alive when she leans her lips against his and brushes them slightly, when her hands rest against his chest, burning his skin; he’s alive when he sits up, staring at her mesmerizing beauty, her shirt open and poorly covering her nudity, the fabric sliding off her shoulder, exposing her collarbone and everything else that he considers being more than perfect. He holds his breath, unable to breathe, his hand reaches out to her messy morning hair, making it look even crazier. She giggles, trying to stop him, but he leans against her lips and Touka feels like this kiss will last forever.

She lets him, even if they are in a hurry and they should probably be leaving this building by now… Touka lets him, closing her eyes, offering him all that she has, all that she is. Kaneki kisses her, not caring about time or anything else as his lips travel down her neck, hands getting rid of her shirt.

Touka sighs, arms enveloping his neck once more, her heart allowing him to do whatever the hell he wants with her.

They have this.

They have each other.

They have enough.

Pretty

You and him had been friends for years.

Your mothers were best friends throughout high school and college, so naturally you were around each other from birth. You’d seen each other through the good and bad. You were inseparable. He was your best friend, your first kiss (at 12 years old, you both just wanted to see what it felt like and decided to use each other), your other half. Him and you. You and him. That’s the way it always was.

You were often teased by other friends about your closeness with him. Constantly affectionate with one another; kissing cheeks or hugging waists. You never questioned it. He was familiar, comfortable. That’s the way it always was.

He was always a magnetic, it came naturally to him. People just gravitated towards him. He was consistently pulled to you instead. You watched as your crowd of friends cheered him on while he chugged a beer. He glanced around and met your eyes, seeing you sitting at the bar with a full drink. Excusing himself from the crowd, he made his way over to you.

“Oi, love! Wut’re ya doing? Supposed to be getting drunk with me, yeh?”

He’s grinning at you with his perfectly straight smile, eyes cloudy from alcohol while still bright just from their natural color. He was beautiful and that was never lost on you, often having moments of just admiring his beauty. This being one of those times.

You laugh at him. “Don’t think anymore can get as drunk as you are right now. How many in are you?”

“Not even drunk yet, love. I’ve only had 2 beers. I plan to have many, many more and I plan to have them with you.” Raising his hand to catch the bartender’s attention, he ordered another beer for himself. “What’s with ya tonight anyway? You a’right?”

Truthfully, you were just exhausted. Only tagging along on this night out because you couldn’t resist him and his persistent begging. You longed for your sweet, soft cotton bedsheets and 3 fluffy pillows.

“I’m fine. Just tired. Not all of us have massive energy like you.” you reply to him.

He laughs. “Not massive energy, just tryin’ to drink away my problems and what not”

The bartender sits his beer down in front of him. Muttering a thank you, he turns towards me more, “Care to join me?”

You look at him with confusion. What problems could he possibly have? You decide to ignore his comment, you catching the bartender’s attention this time. “Martini, please.”

He smiles at you once again, proud of himself for enticing you to down drinks with him. “There’s ma girl!” he says.

An hour later, it’s past 1AM, and you were both far from sober. Standing outside the bar, holding onto each other for support, you tried to catch a cab home.

“Stooooooop!” He yells at a passing taxi. Far too loud but far too drunk to care. “Neva’ gonna stop for us, love.”

“Wanna just walk? I mean, my apartment is like 3 blocks from here.” You say. You’ve never been one to wait and the cold night air wasn’t helping the waiting situation.

“Sure, let’s gooooooo!” He yells again, grabbing onto your shoulder for leverage.

Him staying in your apartment was never a weird thing. He slept there often, almost more than he did as his own apartment. He even his own side of your bed.

Stumbling into the door, he throws his shoes off by the coffee tables and dives onto the couch. You chuckle at him and heads towards the kitchen for two bottled waters.

“Here drink this, you’ll need it in the morning.” handing him the bottle. He looks up at you with red, squinty eyes and says “What an angel you are.”

You roll your eyes, opening your own bottle to down the cold liquid. “What can I say?”

Suddenly he sits up, looking at you with the tiniest smile. “You look pretty.” reaching over to touch your cheek, “H’ve yeh always been this pretty?” his words slurring together.

You laugh. “Well, I have always had this face.” Without thinking, you lean into his touch. His hand moving more towards the nape of your neck. “Pretty much stuck with it.”

“It’s a nice face, I quite like it.” He trails his other hand down the bridge of your nose. “Like ya lips too. Always ‘ave.” His fingertips running over your cupid’s bow.

You stare at him, observing his actions. “Is that so?”

“D’ya remember when we were 12 and we kissed each other in my room?” He lets out a snort, “Tried to be sneaky because our mothers were just downstairs.”

You remember the memory quite well, it being one of your favorites. You were both so nervous but he did everything he could to make your nerves go away, cracking a joke before it happened to make you laugh. “I remember…”

“Don’t have to be sneaky now, do we?” His fingers now running along the length of your collarbone. Touching you so lightly, you could barely feel it. “We can kiss all we want, can’t we?”

“You are so drunk.” nervously laughing, you pull his hands away from your neck. “Don’t even know what you’re saying”

“I know exactly what i’m saying, love.” He now replaces his hands with his lips. The feeling of them, igniting something in you you’ve never felt before. “Know exactly what i’m thinking too.”

Scared of what his answer may be, you cautiously ask, “What are you thinking?”

Looking you dead on in the eyes, he answers with, “Thinking of how i’d love to make you cum, love.”

Choking on noise in your throat, you look away from his eyes. What is happening? What is going on right now?, you think. This can’t be happening.

You quickly realize that it is in fact happening when he grabs you by the nape of your neck once again and lightly brushes his soft lips against yours. “Let me kiss ya, please…..been dying to all night long.”

Had he really? Your best friend had been thinking about kissing you all night long?

You simply nod your head and his smooth lips are against yours in no time. His lips moving slow, taking his time. You move your hands into his soft hair, tugging a bit as he deepens the kiss.

“So pretty, love…..so, so pretty.” He says after pulling back for air. “Gonna let me kiss you all over? Make you feel good? Make you feel pretty?” His hands running across your chest in a silent plea for permission.

“God, yes. Yes. Make me feel pretty.” He moves his lips to your neck, while his hands lower to your belt buckle. Unraveling it from your belt loops, he pops the front button open, slipping his warm fingers into the band of your underwear.

“So wet already, ‘aven’t even touched ya yet.” You barely have time to be embarrassed before you feel his fingers on your most intimate place. Your best friend. With his fingers in your jeans.

“Don’t tease me, please.” You whine, desperate for him to touch you more. He grants your request, slipping a finger in, pumping slowly enough that you feel the ridges in his middle finger.

You moan. “Thought you were gonna kiss me?” He looks at you with a smug smile, adding another finger as he replies, “Where do ya want me to kiss? Tell me.”

Known for being teasing in general, you don’t know why you didn’t think he would enjoy being a tease in the bedroom. “You know where I want you to kiss me.”

He kisses your cheek. “Here?” He moves to kiss your lips. “Or here?” Moving down to your stomach, “Oh, I know. Right here?”

Bucking your hips towards his mouth, he places a kiss on your clothed center. Earning a moan, he looks up from between your thighs, “That’s the spot, innit?”

“Yessss” you moan, unable to hold it in. “Kiss me there, please.”

“Anything for you.” he says, pulling your dark jeans from your legs, your underwear long with it. He places your foot on his shoulder, kissing the inside of you thigh.

He takes a light lick at first, making you clench. The tip of his tongue giving attention to your sensitive folds, before lowering his head and attached his lips to your nub.

“Shiiiit” you moan once more, giving up at holding them in at this point. “That feels so good.”

He adds his finger back into the mix. Your muscles clenching at the feeling of such pleasure. You were close and he had barely started.

“You taste so good, wanna stay down here for days.” You meet his eyes, and you remind yourself to take a mental image of this moment for future references. He looks beautiful, he looks comfortable, he looks at home between your two thighs.

His finger speeding up, and his mouth attaching to your most sensitive area. You feel the familiar burn in your stomach approaching. “Fuck i’m gonna c-cum, oh my god.”

Sucking even harder against you, he spurs you on, “Come on, give it to me. Cum for me, beautiful.”

You eyes roll back in your head, your ears suddenly going deaf. You can’t hear him, all you can feel is the hard wave of your ecstasy crashing over you.

You feel him pet your forehead as you wind down from your high. Feeling his sweet kisses against your cheek. “Was I pretty?” you ask, grinning lightly.

“Fucking beautiful when you cum, love.” He says, grinning back. “So fucking pretty.”