the moment my soul left my body

VOLTRON SEASON 4 SPOILERS AHEAD

  • episode 2 WAS a rollercoaster of emotions
  • keith fuckING LEFT TEAM VOLTRON
  • that moment when pidge thought matt was actually dead? yeah that fucking tore my soul out of my body
  • the reUNION
  • THE FLASHBACKS TO THE HOLTS LIFE BEFORE KERBEROS
  • the group hug before Keith left? im in tears
  • bROGANE HUG
  • ‘who will i make fun of?’ lance @ keith when hes about to leave
  • SHIRO CAN PILOT THE BLACK LION
  • mATT IS CRUSHING ON ALLURA LET MALLURA/ ALLURATT SAIL
  • coran does drugs
  • haggar is in fact using her altean camo abilities to make herself purple
  • string cheese people beep bop
  • allura has to play keith in the voltron coalition plays

  • LOTOR KILLED NARTI
  • AND THE OTHER GENERALS WANTED TO AVENGE NARTI TO THEY TRIED TO TURN HIM IN
  • its confirmed that haggar was spying on lotor through kova
  • THE PALADINS ALMOST STRAIGHT UP DIED IN PLANET NAXELA
  • i thought allura was gonna die when she touched that orb i sobbed
  • lance talking to allura stright on?? supporting her?? and encouraging her to try to use her magic?? and calling her the heart of voltron?? ALLURANCE IS ALIVE AND WELL
  • 'thank you lance’ 'that was all you allura’ mmmm yes my cotton candy bbs
  • KEITH WAS ABOUT TO SACRIFICE HIMSELF I ALMOST PEELED THE SKIN ON MY LEFT FOOT OFF
  • you know how that one guy that saved shiro back before going back to earth sacrifed himself? it was EXACTLY like that
  • lotor wants to talk with team voltron(maybe team up?)
  • no one died thankfully (kinda wanted someone to get injured tho,,,)
  • keith litteraly left after the first episode im going to riot
  • lotor basically saved keith when he blasted through the galra commander before keith could sacrifice himself to destroy its shield
  • MATT HOLT IS A FLIRT

ALWAYS LISTEN TO LANCE MCCLAIN WHEN HE TELLS YOU THAT YOU SHOULD GET OUT OF THERE BECAUSE IF YOU DONT YOULL END UP IN AN NEAR DEATH SITUATION

  • feel free to add more stuff hell yeah
Holding You Back (Smut)

A/N: I’m in Prague this week with a friend and I set this to upload on it’s own so hopefully it works. A little trigger warning towards the end.
Requested to write a smut about the videos of the boys playing billiard in Glasgow and using some vibes from There’s Nothing Holdin’ Me Back too.

Word count: 5,323

“I swear he’s looking at you again” Ollie grinned, smiling at me widely. He put a couple of bottles with liquor back on their place, not taking his friendly eyes of me.

“Who?” I asked, grabbing two more glasses from the counter. I poured vodka in them both first, then some red bull before putting ice in both glasses.

“The tall, dark-haired guy” he said, nodding in the direction of the billiard tables in the other end of the bar.

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So as some of you may know, I have finished acowar. Now that my mind is sufficiently ruined, I present to you this fic about the High Lord of the Winter Court and his mate.

This doesn’t really spoil anything in acowar, rather than their existence. So read if you want, acowar not necessarily needed!

This was requested by @ignite-my-love who is suffering as much as I am when it comes to this bloody book. 

***

How could this be?

Fifty years, and the wretched Amarantha was destroyed by a… mortal? A human?

Viviane’s hands shook, her breath coming out in sporadic sheer clouds as she hyperventilated. She was on the floor, her legs too unstable to carry her any longer. She would see him again, her beautiful High Lord, her love.

She was going to kick his ass. And kiss him. Not necessarily in that order.

I’ve loved you, since we were children. I will always love you, and being your friend is, and always will be, my greatest achievement. I beg of you, protect what is left, Vivane, and I will see you soon enough.

He had not seen her soon enough. Kallias had projected that to her the moment he knew there was no escaping Amarantha’s clutches, and let her protect their haven, which she tirelessly did, while he sacrificed himself to that wench. It wasn’t until he confessed his love to her that she knew the extent of her feelings for him. Her love for him was like the cauldron, and he was the sorcerer reaching far down into her, stirring her soul and wielding her being. She was utterly his, and she thought she would never be able to tell him. That was, until, Feyre Cursebreaker, former prisoner of the Spring Court, had shattered Amarantha’s deadly reign.

She rose to her feet, supporting herself on the marble columns of Kallias’ palace. He would be here soon, and when he did, he would see her standing – fighting – as she always had Before.

Because now there was a Before. It used to be Before and After the War. Now, it was Before and After Amarantha.

She looked out the wide, glassless, window. This was her home, and it would remain that way. The vast expanse of rolling white and treacherous mountains calmed her faltering breaths. She had never stopped to think about this moment - her reunion with her love. Had dwelled many time of how she was going to get here, the plans she concocted, the atrocities she committed in saving her people, but never let herself think – dream, hope, wish – about this moment.

She was still wearing the filthy pants, tunic and fur cloak she had been for the past eight days. It was spattered in blood and dirt and mud and Mother knows what else, but when she was constantly like this she didn’t see the point of washing. She thought maybe should change, to present herself nicely for Kallias, and then she snorted at the thought. That idiot could see her parading around in a pink tutu and nothing else and she still wouldn’t feel embarrassment. She was too far gone for that. She laughed lightly at the thought of Kallias’ face if he saw her gallivanting around, breasts free and lower half covered by hideous tulle. He would tell her to put some clothes on before she freezed, and she would tell him to shove his shiny shoes up his ass.

“Is something funny? It’s been a while since I’ve heard a joke.”

The voice stopped her thoughts. Stopped her breathing. Stopped her heart.

She turned her head, and there he was.

Kallias.” Her voice broke.

“Vivi-”

She didn’t let him finish, just sprinted the few paces between them and collided into him - throwing her arms around his neck, kissing him fiercely. His arms went to her waist, lifting her off the floor as he returned her embrace and kiss. Her legs went around him, and her hands tangled in his white hair.

She may have remained in the Winter Court the last fifty years, but now she was finally home.

His lips moved to her face and neck, kissing any part he could reach.

“I love you, you bloody bastard. Never leave me again or I’ll freeze your balls off and feed them to the bears.” She meant it with the upmost sincerity, but that didn’t stop her from whimpering her words.

“I’ve missed you more than the drylands miss rain, more than the stars miss night, more than-”

“I love you, Kallias. I love you.” She smashed her lips against his again, and she could taste the snow of his scent, the pine that always reminded her of him. She could taste the salt of their collective tears, and feel his heart racing as he pulled her further against him. He walked them forward, still holding up her body and soul, and pressed her against the cold wall. It was a good release, her body become so hot from his touch she wouldn’t be surprised if she left steam in her wake. His hands freely roamed under her coat, slipping above her shirt to touch her oh-so-warm skin.

“You kept me alive, Viviane.” He shuddered. “Not my body, but my resolve, my soul. Every moment was just another until I could return to you. I love you. I should’ve – I should’ve told you before but I was scared.” He rested his forehead to her, and her legs were once again holding her up.

“What’s done is done, never spend another moment of what-ifs, my love. We are here now, we can rectify this now.” She swallowed hard, her emotion tightening her throat.

He placed a sweet, barely there kiss to the skin just under her ear. She could feel his whole body trembling as he slowly got to his knees, pressing his face to her stomach. “Viviane, be my wife. Please, I’ll marry you tonight. I never want there to be another moment where I am not completely and utterly yours.”

A choked sob escaped her at the question, and he looked at her not in alarm, but in understanding.

“Not tonight,” she gasped.

He nodded, but remained on his knees in front of her. His calloused hands were around her calves now, rubbing smooth circles on the tight muscles there.

“We will not marry tonight, because you will make me your wife now. I’ll change into a dress, and you can summon a priestess, and within the hour we will be bound.”

His eyes pierced into her like she was a Goddess he had prayed to for eternity, and maybe, just maybe, she was. “A dress? You could look like a lumberjack and I’d still want you.”

“The dress isn’t for you, silly male.” She patted his head jokingly. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve worn something elegant? Far too long, is the answer, and I plan to look ravishing when I take you as my own.”

*

He had devoured her.

Worshipped her.

Made love to her.

Their souls had sung to one another as their bodies connected. And as Kallias and Viviane were at their highest state of pleasure, the bond had snapped into place, sealing them together everlasting.



If you’d like to checkout some more, you can find my masterlist here :) 

||❥ wrong number. 02.  {nsfw}

m » soonyoung

genre: yeah… u know what genre it is… rated m for my fucking soul left my body as i wrote this.

word count: 4 380

request: a follow up scenario to wrong number which is here. except this time it’s not my old horrid writing and it’s no longer over some messages over the phone ;) it’s a drive-in movie + thighs are involved. just sin.


“I can’t believe you fucking did that, [Y/N].”

A wide smile skittered across your lips, from corner to corner, pulling taunt and pushing upward the apples of your cheeks. Despite the moment being one you weren’t necessarily proud to share; it wasn’t enough for you to evade telling your best friend, the girl who was responsible for thrusting you into this mess. You’d met up for coffee before class started, and whilst Mina was occupied with dumping in one too many sugar packets into her mug, you preluded the conversation by bringing up Soonyoung’s number, the number you accidentally sent a very explicit text to.

You told Mina she shouldn’t bring that coffee anywhere near her lips as you described the story, yet she ignored you and inevitably payed the price as you whisper-shouted one of his messages across the table. Something along the lines of riding his thigh, ruining your body into an irreparable state, feeling how your legs tremble over his shoulders. You watched as she hastily slapped a napkin to her mouth, soaking up the hot coffee that spilt from her lips and just about stained her pretty eggshell blouse. Stop drinking it if you choke after everything I say, you chipped, it only gets worse. Though you couldn’t stand behind that last statement with a pure heart, especially when things were far from terrible the night you and Soonyoung had been pleasuring yourselves to the other’s texts.

“It wasn’t just me! Soonyoung was there too, ya know!” You replied to Mina’s flustered words, keeping pace with her as you exited the coffee shop. She tucked a curl of ash purple hair behind her ear, shooting you a look surprisingly scant with her features being so dainty and porcelain like.

“If you think about it, it’s your fault because you entered his number in my phone.”

Mina’s brows pinched together. “Maybe you should check who you’re texting, especially when you’re calling him hot and talking about how badly you want his hands on yo—,”

“Okay!” You balked with a prickling glow devouring your cheeks, “It was my fault too.” Together you arrived at the stop light, surveiling the opposite pole and waiting for that tiny walking man symbol to start twinkling. Mina was in a quarrel with her own thoughts, still baffled by coincidence that Soonyoung, her dance teacher, happened to be the same student you walked in on with another girl at the frat party. She couldn’t deny he was complete eye candy, though his ludic behaviour often times spurned her interest, especially when his best friend Seokmin was sprinkled into the mix.

“I guess I should also mention,” You huffed, pebbles strewn along the asphalt as the symbol finally flickered, “That he invited me to that drive in movie on Friday,” You gulped, ”

And I’m going.”

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catwithagun  asked:

Klangst fic request?: Lance has a dairy, and he doesn't want any of the team to know that he does. He used it as a coping mechanism, of having strong homesick feelings. he writes all about how he misses his family, and how he wished he could see them. Some day, Keith ends up secretly reading it, and Lance catches him. Keith didn't know lance felt that sad at times, and instead of being angry he just cries, and cries, and Keith comforts him. (Sorry if thats alot)

Oooohhhh heckle yeah. The langst and klangst give me life (but also kill me???) Hope you like it!!!
~~~~~
It was a journal, dammit. Not a diary, alright? At least, that’s what Lance would tell his siblings. He always carried it around with him, although he never really used it. That was until he was suddenly in space. His mama had given it to him before he went off to the Garrison, but now he wrote in it all the time. It made him feel closer to them in a way. Unlike your typical diary (it’s a JOURNAL!!), Lance wouldn’t write in it everyday or how his day was. No, he would spill out all his emotions and insecurities. He would write when the homesickness became too much to bear, write when he couldn’t ignore the little voice in the back of his telling him he wasn’t good enough. He kept it hidden from the his team; he didn’t want them to see all the pain he was hiding. He didn’t want them to view him as weak. So, he kept it between him and the worn pages.
~~~~~
Keith was in Lance’s room, looking for his jacket that he left the night before. While Keith was looking on his desk, he came a across a slim book with a leather cover. He ran his fingers over it, curiosity overcoming him. He picked it up and quickly recognized Lance’s loopy handwriting. He noted that at the top of every page was a date. “Is this..a diary?” Keith knew he shouldn’t be going through Lance’s things, especially something this personal, but his curiosity got the better of him. He flipped to a random page, one that was dated a few days ago.
*July 20, 2047*
“Hello, good-lookin’! And I mean me, not you journal. Anyways, nothing much happened today. We mainly just trained today. I wasn’t really paying attention though. It was going good at first, but then Keith put his mullet in a ponytail, and in that moment, I’m pretty sure my soul left my body. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him.”
Keith blushed at that, lightly chuckling and shaking his head.
“And Keith was amazing. As always. He’s good at everything. Almost perfect even. …unlike me. Whenever I watched Keith do something amazing or incredible, I can’t help be a proud boyfriend, but it also kills me inside. He could do better than me. I mess things up, don’t know when stop talking, and a pretty crummy Paladin. And I’m just waiting for the day that Keith finds that out, and when he does, he’ll find someone better than me. Heck, the same goes for the others. They deserve a Blue Paladin who’s serious and a total flying ninja badass. I’m just…average at best.”
Keith furrowed his brow as he read the words, letting his fingers trace over the words. He noticed that as Lance wrote, he writing became shaky and wet spots dotted the page.
“It’s days like this where I miss home the most. Mama would hug me and tell me everything was going to be okay. My siblings would pick at me for crying. Back home, I didn’t have to try to impress anyone. They were all satisfied with me being me. Not some defender of the universe. Just Lance. But now…just Lance isn’t enough. I’m not enough. I wonder how long until the team finds that out.”
Keith intakes a sharp breath, eyes filled with disbelief. Is this what Lance truly thinks about himself? “K-Keith?”
Keith whips his head around, finding Lance staring between him and the journal in his hands. “Lance! Um, I was just-it’s not what it looks-uh…Lance?” Keith drifted off as he watched as Lance just stared at the book, unmoving. Keith held his breath, waiting for Lance to say something. To his horror instead, Lance began to cry. Tears quickly streaming down his face as he slowly moved his gaze from the journal to Keith. Lance chocked on his breath, letting out a small “I’m sorry.” before curling his hands into fists and pressing them to his eyes.
Keith let the book fall from his hand, hitting the ground with a soft thud. He rushed over to Lance, taking him in his arms and holding him close. “Lance, oh god, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s okay, it’ll all be okay.” He held him tighter as Lance wrapped his arms around his neck. “Nobody thinks that about you, alright? You’re the best Paladin for this team, and nobody would even think that you weren’t enough. You are enough, more than enough, and we will all tell you that.”

Keith pulled back, cupping Lance’s face with his hands, using his thumbs to brush away his tears. “And as for me, there’s nobody else who I would be willing to spend the rest of my life with. I can officially say that there is no one in the entire galaxy that I would rather be with than you.”
Lance chuckled softly at that, wiping his nose on his sleeve and smiling softly at him. Keith gave him a small smile back. “Now there’s the Lance I know and love. Let’s get you clean up and get something to eat, yeah?” Lance blushed slightly and nodded, slipping his fingers through Keith’s. They both headed toward the kitchen when Lance stopped him. “Thank you Keith. For everything. But I just have one question.” Keith tilted his head to the side, slightly raising one eyebrow. “Where’s your jacket?” “Oh quiznak!”

You used to take pictures of me so that you could ‘capture me in moments forever’,
At the time I thought it was sweet,
You’d take pictures of me with my body draped across your own, bare skin pressed to yours, asleep,
You had saved copies of me eating breakfast or drinking coffee that I didn’t even really like just so I could stay awake,
You had pictures of me doing normal things in every day life,
There’s a saying that each picture taken captures part of your soul,
When you left I started to believe it was true,
Now here I am six years later, more myself than ever,
I think maybe you captured my soul in those pictures, but only the parts of me I didn’t need anymore,
You captured the bits of me I was finished with,
Now I’m a stronger, better, more wholesome me.
—  ARH // I’ll always appreciate photography
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.:commonly known as josh’s drumline,, also referred to as the moment my soul left my body n’ I saw god himself play drums:. 👽💀@joshuadun @twentyonepilots @tylerrjoseph (at Alexandra Palace)

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“I Want You”--Imagine #15

Anonymous asked: Request for an imagine where he gets is angry/upset and you are the only one that can really calm him down, maybe someone has to come get you from class or whatever and you calm him and everything. thanks :)

A/N: Did this from C/n’s POV. Hope you don’t mind. Sorry that this one was so long. I couldn’t help myself. ;) If you guys want a part 2 to this I would love to write one. Just let me know!!! :)) Keep dreaming!~Logan

C/f/n: Crush’s friend’s name


C/n’s POV

“Come on, boys! Get your heads in the game!” I heard Coach yell at us from the side of the court. “C/n, stop fooling around! You think we’re gonna win a game if you keep missing the net?”

Sometimes, I hated practice. I mean, don’t get me wrong, basketball was a sport that brought me lots of joy. But Coach wasn’t exactly someone who went easy on you if you were having a bad day. And I had a lot of those. 

Not that I was particularly in a bad mood a lot of days, but I was hard on myself a lot. So, it didn’t help when Coach nagged me about the things I already knew I was having a hard time with. Sometimes, during practice or even a game, it became extremely hard for me to hold in the anger and frustration that I felt towards myself. No one seemed to understand why my eyes would get red and watery during a game, even though I tried telling C/f/n that I got so mad at myself I felt like crying. I thought he’d understand but when he messed up he wasn’t affected by it, so he didn’t understand the anger that bubbled up inside me when I made a mistake, no matter how great or small. 

I flung the ball towards the net the way I’d learned to do it, but instead of making a whooshing sound, it banged against the backboard and fell to the floor with a mocking echo. 

We were practicing free-throws, and the rational part of me knew my team wasn’t paying attention to how badly I was doing, but I couldn’t calm down. The mounting frustration was gaining momentum inside of me. 

As I was waiting for C/f/n to finish his turn at free-throws, Coach marched over to me. He pulled me away from the rest of the boys.

“C/n, what the hell’s going on with you, huh?” He demanded.

“I’m sorry, Coach, I guess my concentration is a little off. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night thanks to studying for exams,” I explained, pleading with my eyes that he’d let me off easy. 

“Well, I understand that studying can take a long time. But we’re not worrying about that right now. When you’re on the court, you’re supposed to be one-hundred percent focused on the game. I’m not seeing that from you. I need that from you, c/n, okay?” 

I nodded, feeling myself start to lose control of my emotions. He slapped me on the back, signalling me to get back to practicing. 

I thought I could get myself to do better. But throw after throw was either a little too much to the left, or too much to the right. My anger was now coursing through my veins. 

“You’ll get it, man, don’t worry,” C/f/n encouraged. 

“Fuck this,” I mumbled, throwing my ball to the side, not caring where it landed. 

“Get back on the court, young man!” I heard Coach yell after me as I stormed away, eyes watering from anger and disappointment in myself.

Fuck him. Fuck this. Fuck me. 

I slammed my way into the locker room, sitting on one of the wooden benches. Tearing off my shirt, I slammed my fist down onto the hard wood in anger. What was wrong with me, why couldn’t I get anything right? My breathing was shallow, my eyes threatening to water my cheeks with tears. Roughly, I rubbed at them, and took pleasure in the sting it left. Hunched over, I gave in. My body shook from the sobs that escaped my mouth. 

“God, I hate this. Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I croaked out, rocking back and forth, eyes squeezed shut. 

That’s when I felt a pair of arms wrap around me from the back, followed by soft lips caressing my neck. I knew those lips, those gentle hands that wrapped around my bare, quaking body. 

“Shh, c/n,” she whispered to me, her hot breath warming the back of my neck. 

I stopped my rocking, and turned to face her. 

“What are you doing here,” I rasped, my throat hoarse from trying to contain my loud sobs. 

“C/f/n got me from class. Told me you were having a rough day,” She said, stepping over the low bench and crouching between my legs. 

Those sweet e/c eyes penetrated my soul when I looked down into them. It unsettled me but in a good way. She saw me for who I was when she looked at me. She saw past all the walls that I built up. My walls weren’t strong enough to resist her gentle ways. She never judged me. We were best friends, but sometimes, the way she held me and comforted me made me feel like she was trying to tell me something she was too scared to say out loud through her actions. The same thing I was too much of a coward to say to her.

The soft pads of her fingertips glided over my temples, and rested on my jaw as she propped her elbows on my knees. 

“Practice was just–I–” I almost started crying again but she ran her thumb over my bottom lip. 

The gesture felt so impossibly good, I almost forgot my frustration. Almost.

“Hey, hey. Shhh. Take a deep breath, okay?” She crooned, stroking my cheeks, brushing away the tears that had fallen before she came. 

I took a deep, shaky breath and immediately felt a lot better. 

“Now, tell me why you got so angry at yourself?” She pushed gently, concern clear in her shining eyes. 

The fact that she understood immediately that I was angry at myself and not the actual thing I was doing made me want to wrap her in my arms. Not that this was the first time she calmed me down. In fact, she’d done it ever since one game when she had caught me sniffling in the hallway of the school we were playing at, waiting for my mom to pick me up since we had a shortage of cars. 

“I was doing horribly at free-throws. And the last game I played was one of my worst. And yesterday night, I stayed up until four in the morning studying for exams, and I feel so drained, y/n,” my voice broke at the end. 

Instead of telling me to not cry she took my trembling hands and pulled me gently to the ground. She situated herself so she was straddling my lap, my back pressed against the lockers. As I began sobbing, she wrapped her hands gingerly around my head, pulling me to her chest. Even though she was on top of me, I felt like she was the one who was protecting me. I let my body lean into her and, after a few minutes, my sobbing ebbed away. I looked up at her, my tear-stained face probably looking blotchy as hell. 

“You are so,” she seemed to be trying not to cry herself. “So–precious,” she forced out with a breath that fanned my face, engulfing me in the sweet mint smell of her breath. 

My grip on her tightened, pressing her body even closer, if that was possible, to me. I memorized the way she felt against me. Her soft curves caressed my bare torso in the most heavenly way and I closed my eyes in pleasure. She placed a kiss to the top of my head, rubbing circles on the back of my neck gently with her fingernails. 

I buried my face in her chest, hoping she wouldn’t mind the intimacy of the position my head was in. Her ministrations to my neck faltered for a moment and I thought I felt her shiver.

“I”m so tired of trying to be perfect,” I mumbled, my voice muffled by the fabric of her shirt.

“But you already are. You’re perfect to me. Without even trying,” she whispered, her voice raspy and a bit unsteady.

Was it because of the way I was holding her to me? No, that couldn’t be it. There’s no way I could have that effect on such an amazing girl like her. She was far too good for me, and way out of my league. Still her words stunned me. 

I looked up into those ethereal eyes of hers again, knowing that if I wanted to know what she truly desired I would have to look into her eyes. Her eyes had betrayed her on so many occasions. Like when I asked if she wanted more ice cream as we hung out at my place, and she refused but I gave her more because there was no mistaking the want in her eyes. Or when we watched movies at her place and even with a pile of blankets on her, she was still cold. I asked her if she wanted me to cuddle her to warm her up and of course she shook her head with a bashful grin. I cuddled her anyway, because her eyes told me, dared me to come closer. And I knew by the contented sigh she let out after I did that she wanted it. 

“Do you want me as much as I want you?” I whispered, my voice barely loud enough to hear over the hum of the heating system. 

The intensity in her eyes, the burning passion and desire that simmered in those e/c orbs was what gave me the courage to do what I had dreamed of doing since the day I saw her cheering me on at one of my games. 

I sneaked a hand to the back of her neck, pulling her down, stopping as she was centimeters from my lips. We shared one glorious moment. It was fleeting but it felt like we stayed frozen there for years. In that moment, her mint breath mingled with my own, the baby-soft skin of her neck trembling beneath my hand, our eyes glazed with need, piercing into each other’s souls, me savoring the way the fingertip of her index finger left a trail of fire down my jawline.

And then it was wet heat, and labored breathing, and hands that hungrily explored the planes of each other’s bodies. 

My body shook with pleasure as her warm palms dragged down my naked, firm chest to my abdomen. I couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped my lips as she applied her fingertips to my sensitive skin, gently grazing down, down, down. 

“Holy shit, y/n,” I croaked out in a gasp, before she hastily took my bottom lip into her mouth and grazed it with her teeth, then moved her lips back over mine impatiently. 

I loved this side of her that was showing itself, the side of her that took what she wanted.

“Yes, oh god. I want you,” she moaned into my mouth.

 Oh god, I needed more of her. I wanted to swallow her whole. She was so sinfully enticing, so heavenly pleasurable to feel against me. I couldn’t stop my selfish hands. They were greedy with the need to feel her. All of her. 

They traveled down her arched back, stopping just above her ass. A strangled whimper vibrated into my mouth from hers, and that’s all the encouragement I needed. My hands flew to her ass, grabbing the soft, but firm cheeks, and giving them a hard squeeze. Her lips parted from mine, as her head lolled back slightly in pleasure and a raspy moan flew from her lips. Her nails–those fucking nails–scratched me hard, leaving angry red marks on the skin above my sport shorts. Pleasure and pain made me capture her lips again, gently asking for entrance again to the hot cavern of her mouth. She obliged immediately, and I ran my tongue over hers, tasting like I was starving, her minty tasting tongue fighting against mine for dominance. I always did find her stubbornness sexy. 

As if she wasn’t torturing me enough already, she arched her back and pressed her chest into me more. The movement made her grind into me, and I couldn’t help moving against her, a loud gasp falling from my lips mixing with her own, my head banging against the metal locker behind me in pleasure. 

“Oh–oh, oh god, y/n, we have to stop,” I forced out, my body trembling with the need to feel her. 

Her fingers started playing with the waistband of my shorts, and I forced myself to open my eyes. 

Big mistake. Her cheeks were flushed, her mouth hanging open slightly, still wet from our tongue war. But that wasn’t what made me go insane. No, it was when she raked her eyes over my nude torso, to look at me. Her pupils were large and her irises were darkened by lust. She was giving me full-on bedroom eyes. 

“Why?” 

That was it. I was certifiably driven insane by her. Her eyebrows were raised, and she cocked her head to the side. The tone of her voice was so innocent, too innocent, while also thick with lust and desire. The combination of the two was too much for me. But I wished I could listen to her talk to me all the time that way. Her voice was already naturally sexy, but that. That was dripping with a silent command to take her to the bedroom. 

“Jesus fucking christ, y/n,” I croaked, my voice shaky with desire. “We have to stop, because as much as I’d like to take you back to my house and continue what we’re doing in my bedroom, I don’t want to treat you like that. You’re so important to me. And I want to start this relationship out like a gentleman and continue being a gentleman all throughout it. So, we have to stop, because I’m gonna take you on a proper date,” I finished, knowing I’d have to take, like, an hour long ice-cold shower and listen to that hour-long loop of cotton eye joe before I could get my body under control again. 

She leaned in, giving me a sweet and sensual kiss, her lips slightly swollen and soft as ever.

“You may think you still have to reach perfection, but baby, you’re already there,” she whispered into my ear, nipping my lobe before pulling back and rising off me. 

She reached out a hand, and I embarrassedly rose, realizing the lower half of my body was no longer hidden by hers and she could see full well the effect she was having on me.

I lifted my eyes to her, my cheeks flushed. Her eyes flitted to mine, but not before I saw she was looking exactly where I was hoping she wouldn’t be. She cleared her throat, a smile tugging at her lips. 

She circled her arms around me, and I immediately did the same, burying my nose in her hair, as she laid her head on my bare chest. I was glad she wasn’t scared off. I was afraid she might be, once the realization hit her of what we’d done. But here she was, gentle as ever, stroking my back. Even her hugs were sensual. I laid my head on top of hers, feeling so safe and protected in her arms.

The whole rest of the day we kept sharing knowing smiles and winks as we passed each other in the hall.

And that evening when I showed up at her door, and asked her out like I’d said I would her face lit up brighter than the sun. I spun her around as her infectious laughter filled the air and my heart up with contentment. 

As much as she kept whispering in my ear how perfect I was as we stood there holding each other, she was the one who was flawless. 

She was perfection itself.