#frvckles

❛ why do you always show up exactly when i need someone? ❜

dyson hesitated before replying. he had been musing on this very same question for some time. he hadn't experienced this kind of connection with someone in all his years alive. that he could remember, at least. once more, olly was right. he could sense him — and not just when he was experiencing extreme emotions, like when he needed comfort. dyson could sense when he was in danger, too. but the alpha wasn't entirely sure he should reveal that just yet.

"do you want to know what i think?" he replied quietly, looking off into the distance. "i think we both have an ability to find our way to each other." perhaps that's how soulmates worked.

　　craig was supposed to be handing out candy to the kids trick-or-treating. he even bought a costume for the occasion, a standard ghostface mask and cloak. the largest size at the store was too small for him though, his massive musculature wrapped tightly by the cheap quality fabric. he went on with the plan though, up until his first trick-or-treater happened to be the prettiest young man he had ever laid eyes on. a too-familiar sight for him. olly had arrived, with those big doe eyes that always carried the naughtiest intentions. and it was no different that night.

　　"fuck, baby...keep it going like that..." his voice, hoarse and deep as always, panted from behind the closed mask, the cloak lifted up to set free his hung cock, which now olly worshipped with that precious mouth of his. craig wondered how such delicate lips could take him in so easily, it honestly amazed him. his hips thrusted into olly's mouth, a large hand tangling its fingers around those golden curls. the candy bowl was left outside a locked door, with a note asking any newcomers to just take one. hopefully, no one would be able to hear the moaning that craig couldn't hold back "ah, fuck...come on, move down, baby... go for those balls..."

   @frvckles ➤ kiss meme ➤ accepting ↳ olly && nick / 23. a kiss influenced by alcohol / other substances

nick twists the bottle back and forth between his fingers, a nervous tic he's trying his hardest not to make blatantly obvious. olly sits beside him, his own drink in hand, and he's hyperfocused on the closeness of their legs, the incremental effort it would take to move his knee just an inch, let their thighs touch.

he doesn't know what the fuck he's doing. what he's thinking. he's not quite drunk enough for any shows of wild courage to be easy — alas, his common sense won out too soon for that — but he is more inebriated than he usually allows here, because otherwise he doesn't think he could do this.

he's thinking about the green of olly's eyes, the easy curl of his hair, the way his lashes flutter against his cheekbones as he glances down, takes a sip from his bottle. there's a pit in his stomach, because what if —

he's misread something. he's about to throw a friendship, one he enjoys, to the wind for one crazy moment of recklessness.

except it hasn't been one moment, has it. it's been weeks of him being in his head, wondering, pushing down the temptation to just lean in whenever olly ducks toward him for those hushed jokes, say fuck it and see what would happen —

his eyes close tight, and he tips his head back, swallows a mouthful of alcohol before slamming the bottle down, the thud of its weight against the ground startling and sudden.

he should just say it. why can't he say it ?

i think i like guys.

olly would get that part. he wouldn't judge him.

i think i like you.

he opens his mouth, can't force it out — but his body is moving before his mind is, rising to unsteady knees and reaching out, taking the bottle from olly's hand and placing it to one side, so carefully he'd laugh at himself if he weren't half terrified out of his mind.

and then he's doing it.

tilting forward, a hand framing olly's jaw, trembling fingers against his skin —

⠀ ⠀❛     please don't hate me. ❜

— before his mouth is on olly's, the press of his lips almost desperate, and it's everything he'd wanted ( and everything he'd feared ). it feels right, feels revelatory, and when he breaks away his gaze sinks to the floor, because he can't look at him.

❛ y'know, one of these days, you're gonna get yourself into a real mess, and i won't be here to save your ass. ❜

the stars aren't easy to see   --   not in gotham   ,   at least.   fog parades along the city's perimeter   ;   an imitation of gloom dusted along crowded streets   &   alleys.   it's seemingly impossible to find anywhere that isn't infested with the faint echoing chime of police sirens   --   that is if one doesn't count the roof of wayne tower.   something   ,   something   .   .   .   poetic irony   ;   yeah   ,   he gets it.   heart of the city with the best vantage point   ?   who would've thought.

“Won't you stay with me, my darling, “ Peter felt like his world was crumbling around him. It was getting more & more difficult to draw the line between his two lives... Ollie was, perhaps, one of the only people who left gave Peter any sense of grounding. He inhales deeply, fighting off the emotions dancing in his green eyes... he didn’t know how much longer her could fight them,  “When my walls start burning down. “

@frvckles​ asked: 💋 | for peter send 💋 to kiss my muse

their first valentine’s day together-- peter hopes it’s their first of many. he’s pulling books out of his locker for third period physics, slamming the door shut only to find oliver standing there, beaming. peter barely manages a quiet “hey--” before ollie is kissing him, nearly causing the teen to drop his books.