* 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒏.

aquamarine, moonlit swimming pool, what if all i need is you? got love-struck, went straight to my head. got lovesick all over my bed, love to think you'll never forget, handprints in wet cement. adorned with smoke on my clothes, lovelorn and nobody knows.

[butterflydustsarchive]

´ ･ . * this is an ARCHIVED blog. you can find me now @butterflydusts. 

[butterflydustsarchive]

hehe i've created a new blog for the new year so if ur interested u can follow me here !

[butterflydustsarchive]

hehe i've created a new blog for the new year so if ur interested u can follow me here !

[butterflydustsarchive]

hehe i've created a new blog for the new year so if ur interested u can follow me here !

[butterflydustsarchive]

hehe i've created a new blog for the new year so if ur interested u can follow me here !

[butterflydustsarchive]

hehe i've created a new blog for the new year so if ur interested u can follow me here !

[butterflydustsarchive]

hehe i've created a new blog for the new year so if ur interested u can follow me here !

[bestcurse]

every piece of him thrums to life in her presence. his heart beats steadily in his chest, reminding himself that it's still there, existent— that it hasn't gone missing, like he thought it might've, over this past year. but, miller doesn't know anything better than this right here, settled between her legs, falling witness to the melodic sounds that breeze past her lips, that reverberates off the walls around them. everything feels electric, thrilling, like he's finally returning to his body, after all this time— that he can be the one person he's only ever been with her; himself. and he doesn't particularly want to consider how hard it's been without her, how despondent he's been trying to adjust to this new life on his own, blending in with a new city, new people, who didn't really know him at all, especially when there's much better things to focus on, right now, but he finds it difficult not to. if only for a moment. because none of it really mattered to him, not here at least— not when her hips are bucking against him, when the sound of her laughter can bring him from the darkest of places his mind threatens to spiral into. only the light shines in now, reminded of how good this could be, how good they were together. that it wasn't, or couldn't ever be, like this with anybody else. he doesn't pause to consider her question, either, in fact his initial answer is to provide her with even more of what she wanted, as if to say yes, that's what he thought about. and it's a finger then, one that had been toying with her arousal, that presses against her entrance, sliding in with ease, curling in a way he was sure she used to like. that she still does, he hopes. it's as that finger finds a steady rhythm, as he uses his mouth, his tongue, to press against that particular bundle of nerves, that he realises that this is what he liked, remembering all the times he would purposefully work her up, before he even got close to touching her, to making a mess of her. couldn't quite hold that much restraint this time around, considering how long it's been since they found each other like this, but he knows, deep down, that it was the feeling of being wanted, needed, that he liked so much. that he always was, with her— he wasn't too much, or too little; everything was just right. in his own way, he supposes he needs her right now, far more than she needs him. but he knows she's aware of it, that it's why she had shown up for him today. so, it's a hum that he uses to reply to her question, ensuring that the sound vibrates against her core in just the way he wants it to, before he's pulling back slightly, if only to drive a second finger along the first, gaze rested upon her. " hm, i think we both know how much it turns me on when you do, " but there was something that slightly overtook it, and it dances in his eyes as he takes her in. " but not as much as watching you come does— are you going to do that, baby? come for me? " and as if to work further towards his goal, his mouth is back on her, working alongside his fingers to get her there.

[butterflydustsarchive]

even though this is far from the first time for them, it’s the first time in a long time she’s felt like this. so alive, so open, so present. over the past year, most of her time was spent running from remembering this feeling, from the present, trying to distract herself from all of it. she doesn’t dare try to flee from it now, however— no, she’s firmly rooted in reality, in how it feels with him, just like he is, with her. besides, how could she ever even begin to think of anything else now that he’s firmly planted between her thighs ? it’s practically impossible, especially once his finger slips past her walls, curling in the exact way she liked. truthfully, he could touch her however he wanted and she would find pleasure in it, but there’s something so special about this, the way he’s touching her now, that shows her he hasn’t forgotten any of it, that it all still matters to him. and she makes sure to relay just how much she appreciates it with the loud moan of pleasure that echoes into the space between them, practically panting. “ fuck, that’s–– ” it’s interrupted by another groan that slips past her lips as he finds a steady rhythm, the warmth of his mouth radiating against her. “ so good, ” she breathes, head tilting back as she allows herself to enjoy this, to lose herself in the bliss that’s slowly but surely beginning to creep its way through her body with every pump of his fingers, every graze of his tongue. it’s when he hums against her that she feels the first tremor of it, the first hint of that peak he always leads her to so expertly. so close she can almost taste it, careening even closer to it with the addition of another finger, the sensation making it difficult to form an actual reply to his question. manages to let out an affirmative grunt in response, instead, back arching ever so slightly off the couch as if to signal what’s approaching, to press herself against him even further. knowing that he liked watching her fall apart, that it heightened his pleasure, too, only made it that much sweeter, body shuddering as it approaches, eyelids fluttering shut as she finally comes undone against him. it’s his name that rips from her lungs first as fingers grip tighter at his hair, followed with a series of louder cries and yelps as she loses herself within it, features contorting with pleasure as she’s hit with wave after unrelenting wave. she’s still trembling even as it finally subsides, a satisfied grin tugging at her cheeks as she attempts to catch her breath, looking down at him. she’s hit with that familiar feeling, to say i love you, like she might have in the past, but she holds back, not wanting to ruin this. “ how the fuck do you do that ? ” it’s spoken incredulously, chuckling softly as she looks at him, gaze filled with admiration. “ that was… incredible. i feel like you deserve a trophy, or some kind of award for that–– i’ll think of something, ” it’s followed with another laugh, propping herself up on her elbows to get a better look at him, so he could see how she smiles, heat still burning in her gaze. “ did you like that, baby ? ”

[bestcurse]

he realises, full and well, that there's nothing normal about this— that they had put strict boundaries into place for a reason, to avoid complicating anything, salvaging what was still left of the bond he still held so close to his heart. this sure felt complicated, however, yet simultaneously, it was as if nothing else made more sense to him, than this. because of course they would find their way back to each other, just like this; of course their souls were still tangled within one another's, better together than when they were apart. it was eternal, the way she had sunk beneath his bones, weaved into his bloodstream, planted herself in his chest, his mind. and that's why his words held such verity to them, a truth that stood the tests of time— that yes, he only thought of her, but not always like this. no, miller thought of her in almost every aspect. it was always her face that he pictured before he fell asleep at night, that visited him in his dreams. it was always the memory of her voice, her laughter, bouncing off the walls, that soothed him enough to make it through the day. she lived there, in his heart, and he carried her around with him wherever he went; she followed him on his commute to and from work, she was in the aisles of the grocery store, in the steam of his morning showers. most importantly, she was embedded into the words that lived in his journals, whenever he found the courage to allow them to filter from his mind to the page. he had nobody to thank but her, for the opportunity he was given, this past year, and he makes sure to, whenever his pen is put to paper. supposes he wants to thank her for it now, too, in his own way, wants to remind her just how good they are together, how good they've always been. each kiss down her chest, her stomach is just as intentional as the last, sloppier the further down he gets, the fingers that tangle in his hair only encouraging him all the more. he can feel those familiar words rise to the surface, bubble on the tip of his tongue— i love you. he's always loved her, still does, always will. knows that isn't something they're allowed to convey anymore, however. knows that it wouldn't be fair to either of them to verbalise it, to allow those words to settle between them. instead, miller finds himself reverting back to old habits. habits long before they ever called this what it was; love, an understanding, a partnership. he relies on his actions to speak for him, again, for every kiss he makes down her frame transmit the tenderness in his chest, the adoration in his gaze, the love in the very marrow of his bones. he only looks up again when he's reached her thighs, when he's sucking on the tender flesh, only hard enough to leave a mark, just like she had branded him with, earlier. it's a low hum that indicates his satisfaction with her words, with her want turning into a need, unable to hold him back any longer, finally allowing himself to give in, for his fingers to idly explore again, closer to her core, until his thumb is pressing to the most sensitive part of her, while his index fingers slide against her teasingly, toying at her arousal. " fuck, " he groans, breath hot against her inner thigh, featherlight kiss pressed there. " are you always this wet when you touch yourself? when you think of me, of how good i fill you up, hm? " he relishes in the feeling regardless, unable to stop the way his mouth soon replaces his hand, needing to taste her.

[butterflydustsarchive]

even after a year’s worth of nights apart, there’s nothing but comfort here, stripped bare beneath him. in fact, devon’s realizing now that this is the first time in a long time she felt at home in her apartment, here in his presence. doesn’t matter that they’re not in what was once their bedroom, because frankly, it didn’t matter where they were— as long as he’s here, by her side, she’s at home. it’s something they create between them, and not just in heated, passionate moments like this, searching for pleasure, but even in the mundane, like making dinner or reading together before falling asleep. it suddenly dawns on her now just how much she’s missed this feeling, just how lonely she’s been the past year without him by her side. might be why everything feels so heightened, right now, reuniting with those lost pieces of herself and him, too— his touch, his smell, his taste, how he sounds. all five senses engaged, completely attuned to him and how effortless this always has been, with him. there was no need for pretending, no mind games— nothing but love and understanding flowing between their bodies and minds. for a brief second, she wonders if that’s normal for two people who haven’t seen each other in a year, or if maybe that was exclusive only to them. and she thinks she might ask, seek his opinion, but the words catch in her throat the further he kisses down her stomach, abandoning them completely as butterflies flock to each spot, wondering if he can feel them, fluttering beneath her skin, against his lips— if he’s aware of the excitement and the need he incites within her with just a simple touch. she’s fully lost in it, eyes falling shut, only reopening when he stops at her thighs, hand still tangled in his hair as she looks down at him, breath lodged in her chest at how perfect he looks, even better than she's imagined him, so many times before. and to see that he’s looking at her, too, that their eyes meet just as his lips meld against the flesh of her thigh, leaving a mark, is almost enough to have her crumbling, right then and there, letting out a soft moan, meant for only him to hear, for him to know exactly what he does to her. and yes, this was fleeting, and she couldn’t exactly expect anything to come from tonight, but at least both of them would have a souvenir of it in the coming days, just to remind themselves that it was real, that it was everything, she’s unsure how much more she could take without being touched by him, however, without some form of friction, but then his fingers slide against her, in the one spot she needed him, causing her entire body to react, hips bucking slightly. “ fuck, miller, ” it falls in a loud moan, echoing off the walls just as he presses his mouth against her, unable to control the sounds that follow, the desperation muddled within. “ only when i think about you, about this, ” she breathes, teeth tugging at her lower lip, trying to find some self-control. “ someone has been teasing me, though, so i think that might have something to do with it, right now, ” it’s added with a soft chuckle, every part of her aching for more. “ you like it when i beg for you, hm ? is that what you think about ? ”

[possession]

Jacob Elordi as Felix Catton SALTBURN (2023) dir. Emerald Fennell

[hintons-a]

AMY ADAMS AS CAMILLE PREAKER SHARP OBJECTS, EPISODE SIX, "CHERRY"

[bestcurse]

no matter the amount of time that's passed between them, it's as if miller can still feel her everywhere. like he never left at all, as though they've never been apart. that's how it feels, at least, being the centre of her attention like he is, now, able to recall each second they've spent together, in instances such as these, when he's been nothing if not entirely captivated by her, by all that she could make him feel. and that plays on his mind, now; just how enthralled by her he still is, that his admiration for her hasn't faded in the slightest, in any aspect. this aspect right here is at the forefront of his mind, however, distracting him enough that the rest of his day, the past week, this past year is barely on rotation in his mind. he's got nobody but her to thank for that— for providing him with a time where the world didn't exist outside of their orbit. in fact, nothing did; all of it fades away until there's nothing left but the two of them, of the fact that she's in his lap, both half bare, enjoying each other, just as they used to. it only adds more fuel to that fire, the one already burning throughout him, becoming present in every look, every touch, the more things become heated between them. the ghost of a smile is evident against his lips, as he watches her, no, really watches her— that look spreading across her features, indicating that it was pleasure that he brought her, still, from his mouth that had worked against her chest. it's pure contentment that spreads throughout his frame because of it, knowing that he could still incite those sounds for her. fuck, how he wanted to do it again and again. have her completely fall apart for him. finds that he's breathless too, due to her words, chest heaving as he finds her gaze, as her hand disappears between his sweats, until it's moving against him in a way that already has him near crumbling. doesn't, however, holding onto some semblance of control that remains, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips. he nods, briefly, teeth tugging at his lower lip, failing miserably to conceal his attempts at hiding just how absorbed he is, by her, by all that she can make him feel. " i only think about you, " says it all, however, in those few words— how it's only ever been the thought of her; of her roaming hands, her explorative mouth, just how it feels to be sheathed inside her, that's been the only thing to get him off, too. and he's close to asking if anybody else has come close to it, for her. if she's ever allowed anybody else to try. but, then he's remembering their agreement, their deal to only ask one question each, that he decides it might not be for the best to pry, that he'll have to live with her answer, once they part ways again. that perhaps neither answer would bring him any comfort. instead, he finds his hands at her hips, again, encouraging her to rock them against his own, just as he presses further up against her, her touch. " yeah? you think i should be nice, dev? use that talent for good? " and he's teasing, of course, but it's not as dragged at as it once used to be. once upon a time, miller would've taken his time with it, teasing her; wait until she was on the edge before giving in, but he feels as if there's a certain urgency, that he doesn't want to wait a second longer than he has to, now. her please was enough, for him. supposes that's why he repositions them, flipping them over until it's her back pressed against the couch, his hips pressing into hers firmly, again trying to create friction between them. greedy fingers are already tugging down her bottoms, curved corner of his lips turning into a dimpled grin, as he takes her now bare frame in, bunched material deserted somewhere alongside her shirt and book. " maybe you could tell me what you think of, hm? when you touch yourself, " he breathes, leaning down, until it's his lips moulding against her chest, kissing his way down lower, each word burned into her flesh. " tell me what gets you off, baby... i'll remind you of how good it can really be. "

[butterflydustsarchive]

it’s impossible to stifle a grin the moment his words register in her ears— i only think about you. it’s all she needs to hear to quiet those fears that lurk in the depths of her mind, terrified that he could possibly forget what they have here with all the distance placed between them, that he could find someone better to replace all their sacred moments with while they were apart. didn’t dare to delve deeper into it, to ask those questions she’s dying to hear the answers to, however, no matter how curious she was to understand what his life looks like, now. she doesn’t know if she can stomach it, regardless of what his answer might be. she couldn’t handle the thought of someone else touching him the way she was now, someone else eliciting the same sighs of pleasure from him like the ones currently falling from his lips due to her actions. not only because it dealt a deadly blow to her ego, but because there wasn’t only a physical aspect at play here. yes, her attraction to him is obvious and palpable, considering how she reacted when he appeared before her without a shirt, but it runs far deeper than that. there was still an immense amount of love and care and understanding here, and it’s more so the thought of him sharing that with someone else that upsets her, that allows jealousy to blossom in the crevices of her aching heart. but, even then, she knows how selfish that is, that she had no real say on whether or not he finds that again, that she should be happy for him, above all else. that’s incredibly difficult, though, when this was all she yearned for, despite knowing they couldn’t have it anymore, after tonight. she can forget about that aspect for right now, however, instead focusing on how he encourages her hips to rock against his, stifling a groan at the friction, at how desperate she was for more. she’s humming under her breath, letting out another shaky sigh as a smile tugs at her cheeks. “ think you should use a gift like that only for good, ” she teases, hoping the timbre of those words accurately relay her desperation for him, for this, wondering if he could feel the heat pooled within her radiating against him the further she presses her hips against his. and she takes it as a sign of good faith when he shifts their position, back now pressed against the material of the couch as he removes one of the last barriers between them, watching his every move with a lust filled gaze. it’s the dimpled grin across his cheeks that causes her heart to skip a couple beats, to lose a regular pattern of breathing the longer she looks at him, watching as his mouth moves across her skin, pushing her chest up to meet him with every kiss, fingertips reaching out to tangle in his hair. “ honestly, i thought of you just like this so many times, ” kissing down her body, smiling up at him in a way that leaves her weak in the knees. she’s looking down at him now, heart swelling, hardly able to catch her breath. “ so fucking perfect, as always, ” tongue runs along her suddenly dry lips as she stifles a groan, head tilting back as she’s flooded with a series of lascivious images of him, ones she’s kept close for the last year. truthfully, it was hard not to think of him like this, not when she’s constantly reminded of him, of all the different spots around the apartment where he touched her like this, where their bodies conjoined. their bed, the shower, the couch, anywhere else they deemed fit. she couldn’t escape the memories even if she wanted to. “ i like to try to pretend it’s you touching me, your fingers inside of me— god, don’t even get me started on how much i’ve missed those, and your mouth, ” she has to pause, then, as a shiver rolls down her spine. “ never feels as good as it does with you, though. it’s not the same, ” a beat passes, as a soft moan slips past her lips, unsure if she's able to continue. “ i— fuck, miller, i can’t… i need you. ”

[bestcurse]

being with her now, just like this, miller’s unsure how he’s ever gone without it. it’s like being brought back to life, he thinks, awoken from a year long’s slumber— that steady beat to his heart returning, warmth to his skin again. can’t deny that she’s always had this affect on him, however, that she’s always been the one to pull his mind from the darkest of places, the descent down and down and down it was always so intent on following. he sees, now, that he needed this, needed to see her, despite the unfortunate circumstances it was unfolding because of. but, if it wasn’t for that, then those small, shattered pieces wouldn’t be melding together again, fusing, until he he feels a little less like a half and more like a whole. that’s always been the most secure in her presence, like their two souls collided was what he needed to feel complete, like he was doing good. that he could be good. no, without this, miller was simply setting himself up for another year of dread, of regret, of not belonging. he’s never felt as wanted as he does within her presence, though, so how could he ever regret that? there’s not one part of him could, not when she’s looking at him like that, kissing him like they, driving her hips into his like that— fuck. he’s so distracted by her, by all that she encompasses, that he barely hears the words that leave her mouth, stamping into his skin, as she traverses along it. his body seemingly reacts, however, and he feels any of the self-control he still had dissipate from his frame, especially when he feels her at his pulse point. and he knows exactly what she’s doing; leaving behind a reminder of their time together, tonight. providing him with something to remind him that this was real, that the love, and lust, and understanding hasn’t died between them, that it never could. feels so fucking alive, with the mark now etched into his skin, those feelings swirling through his veins. thinks it’ll always be inherent somehow, too, that no matter how much time passes, they’ll find their way back here— lips moving against one another so effortlessly, bodies melding together so perfectly. and it’s a low, satisfied moan that tears from his throat because of it, that has his grip at her hips tightening slightly, knowing that he gets this for the next few days, a token to see every time he catches sight of his reflection. “ devon, ” he whispers, though it comes out more in a sudden breath, hips driving up into her hand that slips beneath his waistband, seeking any sort of friction. “ think you already know what i want, hm? ” he asks shakily, head tilting to the side as his darkened gaze begins to wander, sliding down her exposed chest, along each and every bit of skin, each part of her that he knows so well. “ think you know exactly what you do to me, too, ” if his hardened length beneath her touch had anything to say about it, that is. then again, he also knew what he could do to her too, which is why he allows his fingers to follow his gaze, for the pads of his thumb to circle gently against the peak of her left breast, before he’s leaning down, capturing the hardened top into his mouth, hand cupping at the other. breath is shallow upon release, but he hovers there, against her chest, seeing now that this was what she had set out to do, by meeting him, today. that it may not have been in the way either of them had planned, but she was taking care of him, just as she’d asked him to let her. lopsided grin carves at his lips as he repeats the same with her other breast, before he’s kissing his way back up her neck. “ do you know how many times i’ve thought of you, this past year? ” beat. “ how often i think about all the ways i know how to make you come? ” another pause. “ is that what you want, baby? for me to take care of you, too? ”

[butterflydustsarchive]

despite her current desperation for him, devon truly didn’t expect any of this to occur when she first walked through the doors of his father’s funeral earlier today. all she could do then was panic, question if she really should be present considering all that’s transpired, all the time and distance placed between them, but most importantly, if it would do more harm than good. thinks it was instinct, though, knowing he might need someone to comfort him that drove her there— just like what’s driving them both, now, due to that inextinguishable flame they share for one another. a flame she thinks will always burn just for him, for what they have here, together. feels as if she almost should have known this, or some form of it, was going to happen, though, from the very moment they sat down next to one another at the bar, when she felt her heart take root in her body for the first time in a year. and yet she knows there’s plenty of other avenues to show her care for him that allow for much firmer boundaries instead of this one, half-bare and settled in his lap, but none of them seem to matter once she hears the moan of satisfaction that falls from his lips due to her actions. the sound of it satisfies her, too, a soft grin appearing against her features as a result. she knows that simply sending a sympathy card wouldn’t convey the totality of her feelings for him the same way this was, right now— they could communicate that sentiment better through their bodies, like they used to before either one could admit what this was out loud: love. the purest, most intense form of it. it’s fully present now, with every breath she takes, every kiss she presses against his skin. it wells up inside of her as she watches his darkened gaze travel across her chest, realizing she’s at her most vulnerable and yet it doesn’t even phase her with him— in fact, she only wants more of it. teeth bite down on her bottom lip as she bites back the sudden desire to cry, to blurt out that she still loves him, that she’ll always love him, regardless of whether he’s near or far. she’s quick to swallow it away, however, distracted once his mouth latches onto the tender flesh of her breast, head tilting backward as her eyes flutter shut. she can’t believe how good it feels, that being apart for an entire year hasn’t dulled any of it, at all, only heightened it, it seems, soon letting out a series of soft moans as he continues. head remains tilted backwards even as he begins kissing up her neck, grin playing against her features as she slowly cracks her eyes open, completely attuned to him and the heat pooling inside her once he admits he’s thought of her, too, a shiver running down her spine at the revelation. now breathless, she’s practically panting against him, nodding at his question before following with one of her own. “ do you think about me when you touch yourself like this ? ” and it’s the hand tucked beneath his waistband that begins to move again, fingertips stroking against his length, full and hard against her palm. “ because i do— do you know i can’t even come unless i think about you ? ”  beat. “ this entire year, i couldn’t even get off without thinking about how you touch me, how you fuck me, ” she breathes, pressing her hips against him again, stifling a groan. “ it's kind of a niche talent, you know ? don’t think you should waste it anymore, ” she teases, smirk spreading across her features as she leans in to press a heated kiss to his lips, not above begging for it, now. “ please, baby. ”

[bestcurse]

he wanted this so fucking badly— couldn’t think of one thing he’s wanted more over the past year, actually. it’s always been something so special to him, previous times like these; moments shared between them, when they took their time learning each other, each and everything they liked and didn’t like. he can almost remember it exactly, all the ways he learned where to touch her, how to do it, each and every reaction he could pull from her frame. it’s embedded into his mind, carved there permanently, for as long as he lives. and he uses it now, each and every bit of it that he’s held onto, to entice those exact same responses from her. can’t deny that he even he’s distracted, however, at the shakiness to her words, the fragments of her sentences, as she reads aloud to him, causing him to pause every so often, as he works along her skin, a smile pressed into her flesh, stamped into the spots his mouth had already trailed along— her neck, her chest. nothing sounds as good, however, as her low hums and sighs of approval, of appreciation, eliciting a few of his own, mingled with the rasp of his breath, the slight tightening of his grip at her hips. and when she stops reading, he’s pulled back enough to watch the book fall shut beside them, a low chuckle departing his lips once her forehead finds his own, his movements against the bare skin of her hips mimicking the ones that she traces against his chest. “ hey, i was enjoying that, ” he teases, words light as a low huff of laughter escapes his brims. and while, in the past, he would’ve liked to make things hard on her, to encourage her to pick back up where she left, he can’t ignore the fact that they weren’t those people, anymore. it’s so easy to forget, though, when the name baby leaves her lips, causing him to halt, momentarily, for his shoulders to stiffen; not at the nickname, but the apology that rushes from her mouth, soon after. he wants to tell her that she had nothing to be sorry for, that, really, he didn’t mind it at all, considering the warmth it brought him, the ease that settled in his chest, in place of his erratic heartbeat. but, miller soon finds himself distracted, as her lips begin exploring against his own flesh, her words pressed into the base of his throat, stamped there, causing him to swallow harshly, at her confirmation. and while he doesn’t need to think about his own for another second, she allows him the time to, regardless, even if it only leads him to shake his head at her, for his tongue to wet his lower lip, once he finds her eyes, again, getting lost, while simultaneously feeling found, in her gaze. “ i want this, too, ” he breathes with confidence, despite the shaky exhale the words are wrapped in. “ i want you, ” comes further confirmation, this time allowing his hands to push the material of her shirt upwards. he takes his time with the movement, palms of his hands skating along her sides the further he goes, until he’s lifting it up and over her head, discarding the material next to the forgotten book. “ preferably here, and not, like… a part of my imagination, either, ” had been faced with that too often, while they’ve been apart this past year. they weren't now, though, and he decides to make the most of it, gaze dipping down in the slightest to her bare chest, now matching with his own. " but, i do... i really fucking want this; you. want to make you feel good, baby. " and he starts by doing that, he hopes, in the way he leans forward again, capturing her lips with his own.

[butterflydustsarchive]

it probably should surprise her how easy it was to fall back into this with him after a year apart, but it doesn’t— she thinks part of her has been waiting for him to come back ever since she tearfully watched him walk away to catch his flight, leaving all of this behind. of course, it’s only one night, and it’s not under the best of circumstances, but it didn’t matter to devon. she would embrace it regardless of whether or not she’s merely a temporary bandage to his ailment, never to see him again once the sun rises. she hopes it might mean more than that to him, though, that what they held here hasn’t dissipated, even after all the time and distance placed between them. because for her, nothing had changed— that love for him lived inside of her still, bright as ever. it rattles around in her chest, tugging at her in the most tender of moments, like whenever she brushes her teeth in the morning, remembering how they used to do that together, or when she sees a book she imagines he might like, wishing she could buy it and bring it home for him like she did, once upon a time. and she wants to ask him what those moments are for him, if he thinks about her in the shower, or on his commute to work, or when he takes his first sip of coffee in the morning, or in the lonely aisles of the grocery store, like she did. if all those little moments created an ache inside of him that nothing or anyone else could fill. she’s desperate to ask, actually, but decides that hearing him confirm that yes, he wanted this, that he wanted her could be enough, for now— it’s an easy decision when he’s looking at her like that, when his fingertips skate along her skin, pulling her shirt from her frame, now suddenly half-bare before him as she melts into the kiss, a slight smile playing at her lips once she finally pulls away to catch her breath. “ god, it’s really nice to hear you say that, ” it’s quiet in admittance before her lips find his again, melding into him as hips press a bit firmer against his out of need, hands grasping at any bare flesh within her reach. it’s the only way she can communicate just how nice it was to know that he wanted her, that it wasn’t one-sided, like she feared. it’s with a soft groan that her lips continue to explore, pressing heated kisses against his jaw, allowing her teeth to slide against him too, nipping at his skin. “ i want to make you feel so fucking good, ” it’s muttered right against his ear, breath hot as she presses a peck below it, wasting no time before kissing further down his neck, uttering her next words directly into his skin, as if branding each syllable into his flesh. “ better than in your imagination, i hope, ” there’s a subtle smirk that tugs at her features, then, focusing the entirety of her attention on him. “ so good that you forget about everything but this, ” it’s then that her lips seal around his pulse point, sucking lightly, just enough to leave a mark, even if she won’t be able to see it, after tonight. at least he can, though, that he’ll possess a physical reminder of all that occurred here, a reminder that it actually happened. breath becomes shallow as she continues to kiss and nip at his skin, heading straight towards his collarbones as her hand travels up his thigh, daring to disappear beneath the waistband of the sweats he wears so well. “ what do you think about that, baby ? do you want that, too ? ” no apology this time, only need and the desire to please him muddled within her gaze.

[bestcurse]

there's always been something so magnetising about her, just as she is now. in fact, miller thinks he's always been enticed by her, from that very first moment they met— knows that he'd follow her anywhere, do anything she asked of him. over the past year, he's had a lot of time to think about it; plenty of forlorn nights, staring up at his bedroom ceiling, wondering how different everything would've been, if only she'd asked him to stay. those possibilities played on a constant rotation in his mind, and no matter how much it hurt, how often his chest stung with all that they had to give up, all that he left behind, it all dulls in the slightest, knowing that no matter how much time had passed between them; whether it was weeks, or months, or years, they still found themselves back here, in the comfort of each other's embrace. he can feel it, now, soothing every mournful, desolate, grief-stricken piece of himself, gluing back together the shell he's been carrying around, pasting those fragments of the person he once was back together once more. she makes it pretty easy to do, but she always has— she's always been that, for him. feels all the more augmented, however, considering how long it's been without anything like this, without the warmth beneath his fingertips, that run along her leg. he takes his time, reacquainting himself with her, savouring each and every second of it, unknowing to when, or if, he'll ever get the chance to again. that's what makes it all the more memorable, he thinks, just how fleeting this was. finds it all-consuming, too; retracing the parts of her that were embedded into him, carved as an integral part of his existence. this part of her, sitting in his lap as she does now, was just the piece of her he thought of on those rare occasions he found himself close enough to someone else, when it was images of her face, and her body, memories of her sounds, and them together, that was the only thing able to get him through it. but, none of that mattered to him, now. in fact, nothing else existed, to him, outside of the words that fell from her lips, narrating a story they both now know so well, in a fashion that he once did for her, when it was still the two of them against everything, when it was him who read to her each night. and he can't deny how much he likes it, hearing her read to him, as his lips map out her jawline, down her neck, a low hum of approval, almost a groan, emanating from his throat, at her admission. " anything, really? " he questions, even though he knows it. he's always known it. not only when they were together, but now, too, even after all this time— doing what she is now shows it enough. and that only causes further anticipation to simmer in his gut, the longer she reads for, the further his lips and tongue and teeth explore, now making a trail from her neck to her chest, along her collarbones. it manifests in the goosebumps that line his skin, his heart rate that accelerates, the chill that runs down his spine, as his hands find her hips. lifting her shirt in the slightest, the pads of his thumbs trace gently along the bone that protrudes there, not only to feel her skin beneath his hands, but also for encouragement to continue. fingers soon dip lower, tracing along her waistband, as lips come to a short stop, at the base of her throat. " can i do this? " he asks against her, breath hot and uneven, daring to lower his touch, depending on her answer. pulls back then, just enough to find her gaze, biting down on his lower lip, suddenly nervous that he was reading this wrong. " i mean, is this what you want? "

[butterflydustsarchive]

at this point, after reading it through it so many times, devon’s certain she could recite the beginning of this book from memory without even glancing at a page, but she has to, if only to remain focused, to not lose herself completely by the sight of him. and she liked it, reading aloud to him, even though it was a complete juxtaposition to how it used to be, when he was the one reading to her, lulled asleep by the soft sounds of his voice practically every night. she didn’t mind this, either, if it offered him the same amount of comfort, if it could help ease even an ounce of pain or hurt circulating throughout his system. it proves difficult, however, to maintain that focus the more his lips explore, pressing against her flesh, across all her weak spots, all the ones he knows so well. spots no one else has touched, until now, suddenly battling each and every urge to toss the book somewhere else and strip them both of all barriers, to reunite with one another on a much more intimate level, like they used to. but she won’t, instead following his lead, allowing him to set that boundary, if he saw fit. she could ignore the buzzing in her fingertips and the heat pooled within her if necessary, if this wasn’t what he wanted or needed. part of her wonders if he needs it, too, though, with how his lips travel down her neck, her chest, eliciting hums and appreciative sighs from her despite still attempting to read the words that litter the pages, shaky fingers turning the pages slowly. none of it really sounds beautiful, though, not like how it did when he would read aloud to her, considering how badly she’s stuttering over the sentences, her head completely muddled by lust and desire and the love for him that’s been buried deep inside her for an entire year, consuming her every thought. it’s when his fingertips travel beneath her shirt, brushing across her bare skin that she knows she can’t continue, that she’s fully lost in what was occurring between them. the book slides from her fingers, then, falling to lay beside them, eyelids fluttering shut as he traces along her waistband, leaning in to rest her forehead against his own as her hands move to lay warm against his chest, drawing soft patterns against him. “ baby, ” she whines, desperate for more, yet quickly realizing that she didn’t quite possess the ability to call him by that familiar nickname, any longer. that was practically a lifetime ago, yet it still fell from her lips with incredible ease. “ shit, sorry, ” because no, she shouldn't have said that— she probably shouldn’t be doing any of this, but she was, regardless. chooses to shield her embarrassment by allowing her own lips to skate along his jaw, pressing fervent kisses there and down his neck, muttering her answer to his question there, burned against his skin. “ i want this so fucking much, ” she admits, followed with a shaky breath as she pulls back, determined to meet his gaze as she speaks next. “ but only if it’s what you want— only if you’re sure. and it’s really okay, if not— i can… i can lock myself in my room and try not to think about you, if necessary. ” it’s followed with a labored chuckle, fingertips running up and down his chest, now.  wanted him to know that there was no pressure here, that it wasn’t required. but if he needed her, if he wanted her, too, no matter the reason, she was okay with it. “ it would be really hard, since you’re all i fucking think about, regardless, but i could try. ”

[filmgifs]

HOW THE GRINCH STOLE CHRISTMAS (2000), dir. Ron Howard

[bestcurse]

he can tell himself that this doesn’t mean anything. that it doesn’t have to, if they don’t want it to— that there was nothing stopping them from going ahead with this, like they both seemingly wanted to. but even as the words pass through his mind; repeated over and over like a mantra, miller knows that it holds no truth, no value. he knows that he could tell himself that it doesn’t have to mean anything, but deep down, it’s still everything to him. he’d known that, from the very second he laid his eyes on her earlier in the day, as if it all came back into focus, into colour; moving away from an existence that had been so monochrome, without her by his side. in fact, he didn’t need to kiss her to be aware of that, but it sure helps that ache in his chest, the sorrow that’s plagued him for days, convolved around his bones. it all evaporates away, as he melts into her, into the feeling of her against him. it’s tender and passionate, and all that he remembers about her, about her capability to make him feel like this. a sensation that’s only ever been reserved for her, that only ever will be— reacquainting himself with it, savouring each and every second they have together, just like this. it’s clear that he doesn’t care about being good either, based on how out of breath he is by the end of it, how he tries to bite back his ever-growing smile, after sharing what they had. his gaze dips momentarily, to her hand that rests atop his thigh, how own hand moving until it sits on top, offering a gentle squeeze of reassurance, to remind her that it was okay. and he’s glad he’s done it, when her vulnerability leaks through, giving her a small nod to show that he understood, just as he always has. there’s no judgment, either, wanting her to know that her revelation was safe with him. to prove it, he finds himself admitting something just as exposed, providing her with a glimpse into his year without her, without having to say much at all. “ the painting you put in my bag, your art, i mean… i hung it in the entryway of my apartment, so it’s the first thing i see when i get home. ” doesn’t think he needs to elaborate much further than that, hoping that she somehow knows what it means to him. a piece of her that he’ll always have with him, that sometimes makes him feel like he’s still returning home to her, still admiring her from afar. they’ve always shared that connection, always tended to each other’s passions, their art; appreciating it, encouraging it. he could never thank her enough for that, for nurturing that piece of him, allowing it the space to thrive. wouldn’t be where he is now without it, without her. that’s what makes this all the more precious, to him, despite how fleeting it is, knowing full and well that once the sun rises, they’re going back to their separate lives. but how could that matter, right now, when her breath against his ear causes a shiver to run down his spine, her words eliciting a low hum, before her lips are on his again. there’s something so magnetic about it this time around, as their desire for one another bubbles to the surface, has him deepening the kiss as she climbs into his lap. book is soon abandoned, in place of his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her in closer, so she can feel the affect she has on him— his quickening heartbeat, his laboured breathing, once they part again. fingers outstretch, then, reaching for the book again, running his fingertips along the spine, before he’s finding her gaze. “ you look so fucking perfect here, though, ” voice is coarse, deep, as he hands her the book, leaning forward to press his lips to her cheek, running along her jaw, up until her ear, where he gently takes the lobe between his teeth. “ read to me. ” he requests again, breath hot, before lips begin their trail back down the curve of her jaw, exploring, hoping it’ll give her reason to stay.

[butterflydustsarchive]

it amazes her how it feels as if no time has passed at all now that they’re together, once again. thinks it might always feel that way, regardless of where they are, who they’re with, or how many weeks or months or years have passed in between. it’s always been clear to her that this is special, that it’s everything, but it rings further true with what’s unfolding before her, how he kisses her like he never left at all, how his touch still evokes the same feelings it did the very first moment he ever brushed against her skin. it’s never been like that, with anyone else–– not with past relationships, or even the people she’s drunkenly made out with at parties in the last year just to feel something in his absence. she wouldn’t be able to point any of them out, now, nor would she ever care to, but she’s certain she could see miller in the darkest of dark, could tell him apart from anyone else even with her eyes closed. it’s why his reassurance means so much to her, savoring it just as much as she does every glance, every kiss, every touch, why she can’t control the smile that spreads across her features in response to hearing that not only did he keep her artwork she created for him, but that it was actively hanging in his apartment, right now. that it had been, this entire time. “ really ? ” it’s filled with incredulity, honored that he admired it enough to want to display it, that all this time, they were miles and miles away, yet they both still maintained their little rituals of remembrance for one another. “ i didn’t know if that was a weird gift, or not, but i’m… well, i’m just really happy to hear that you like it. ” she shouldn’t be surprised, though, considering he’s always supported her art, always encouraged her to continue, even when she felt like giving it all up and throwing away every canvas she’s ever touched. that’s what they did for each other, though, what they’ve always done, since the moment their paths crossed. it’s comforting to know that even if she didn’t believe in herself, if she faced doubt from others, he believed in her, at least, no matter how far they were, no matter how little they actually spoke— it didn’t change anything, not for either of them. it only fuels all she feels for him, now, all the desire that’s currently circulating her system as his arms wrap around her waist, pulling her in closer, wondering if he can feel the way her heart accelerates in her chest, how it pounds against his own, how she’s nervous and excited and enthralled with all he is, all that he manages to evoke from her, every single time they find one another like this, no matter how long it’s been. and she’s nervous because it’s been a long time since she’s done any of it, since she’s felt someone’s lips against her own like his are, now. but all her previous apprehension fades just by the sound of his voice, at the words that fall, unable to find any of her own but looking at him as if to convey how perfect she thinks he looks, too, just as she’s imagined him so many times since they’ve been apart. it’s then that eyelids flutter shut as his lips explore her jaw, letting out a soft sigh once he reaches her ear. and she should expect it, as his teeth tug at the shell of her ear, but her body shudders against him regardless, teeth sinking into her lower lip so hard she’s afraid she might’ve drawn blood. “ fuck, ” she mutters, breath hot against him, unable to fathom how she could have ever believed in her ability to willingly part from him, before this. “ god, you know i can’t say no to you, hm ? i’d do anything you fucking asked me, ” she admits, nodding softly in response to his request. shaky fingers work to smooth out the pages of the well-loved book, then, attempting to focus her gaze on the words that litter the pag. once she begins reading aloud to him, she finds it more difficult than ever as his lips work against her, breath heavy and labored, trying to maintain a steady rhythm despite how distracted she is.