Can I Have With Dylan. Obsessed With The Idea Of Fake Dating And Your Writing Is Amazing

Can I have 💦☁️🤮 with Dylan. Obsessed with the idea of fake dating and your writing is amazing

send me EMOJI PROMPTS for a ’blurb time’ blurb -

[ 💦 ] : sleeping together for the first time.

[ ☁️ ] : enemies to lovers.

[ 🤮 ] : fake dating.

FAKE NEWS [part 2 is here]

From the outside, your union with Dylan represented all contributing factors of a loving devoted relationship; public displays of affection paired with the joyous smiles of infatuation, longing gazes that covered from head to toe, and warm tender touches that danced wherever they could reach. A closed door spoke differently, however, when your backs were turned to the public eye and the close proximity you once shared instantly reverting to hateful strangers sleeping on different sides of the house. What nobody knew was that everything that seemed perfect about you and Dylan was utterly and completely fake.

It was meant to be good publicity for your further developing images in the Hollywood spotlight; your joint publicist deciding that it was best for your blossoming careers, and to raise more exposure for the new film you shared together. Overall, the idea was writhing with stupidity. To make all matters worse, you couldn't even remember why you and Dylan didn't get along; but it drove a knife through the centre of your phony relationship and only presented tense situations and hateful glares among yourselves. It would get to the point where you could go hours dodging each other around the house, words unspoken and eyes focused on whatever was preoccupying your hands at that moment. It was difficult to juggle your emotions, but neither of you made the move to fix whatever was broken between you both.

This is what led to Dylan perched on the edge of your shared couch, his eyes crinkling in confusion and frustration as they skimmed over ridiculous tabloid articles concerning the two of you. The brutal features from wannabe journalists and tryhard paparazzi were getting worse as each day dragged on, prompting the man to drag his large hard down his face, groaning loudly as he stood from his position and trudged his way toward your bedroom. His deep whisky hues remained oddly fascinated by the spreading lies coursing the internet - so much, that he ignored all common courtesy as he immediately opened your closed door with his eyes still glaring down at his phone. "You won't believe the bullshit that they're saying about us-" He started, brows knotted deeply and teeth gritted before he looked up to you. It was sudden when he froze, Dylan's words swallowed roughly by what he saw.

"Dylan, what the fuck are you doing? Get out!" You squealed, your body only clad in your hugging pair of underwear and bra before you rummaged for something to wrap around your exposed frame. His jaw still hung, all skills pertaining to how to speak now gone and replaced by small choked noises. With rolled eyes, you carefully walked toward him, your hand reaching out to grasp at his phone and tug it away from his suspended movements. "This better be good, otherwise I'm going to fucking kill you." You hissed, absentmindedly tugging the sheet around you tighter. You reluctantly scrolled through the variety of gossip featurettes; they varied from 'secret proposals' to 'Dylan at his last straw', even one detailing how you were both planning on getting matching tattoos, which was very much news to you. What stood out the most, however, got you seething almost instantly. You gasped loudly, "I'm WHAT? I am in no fucking way pregant. What the actual fucking fuck is this? Where do they get this from?!"

The shrieking tone of your exasperated voice broke Dylan from his daze, the mental image of your body still burnt in his mind but temporarily pushed aside. He shuffled to the side, head peering over your shoulder as he too read the article in disgust. "We can't do this shit anymore, seriously. It's screwing with our heads and our lives, and I'm so goddamn over it." Dylan's voice was deep, representing a low growl when his hands tugged harshly at the roots of his hair. You felt like puppets, dolls, playthings where you couldn't even direct the story of your own life. It was exhausting. "The sooner I can get out of this stupid house and away from whatever this-" He gestured between you both, his fingers lengthy as they pointed back and forth, "-is, the better."

"Oh, so you're just that desperate to get away from me?" You scoffed, your fractured relationship causing immediate misconception of his choice of wording. Your head fell into a soft shake as you pulled yourself away from Dylan, arms hugging yourself out of makeshift comfort. Dylan's fingers pinched the bridge of his nose before his eyes squeezed shut, the inklings of a stress headache dancing behind his eyes. That's not what he meant, but you were just as stubborn as he was, which is what made him know that you most certainly wouldn't listen to reasoning. A defeated sigh dropped from his lips as his other hand reached out for your arm, fingers gently wrapping around the bend of your elbow. Dylan ignored your quiet protests before pulling you back to him, your body twisting until you were both standing chest to chest.

"I hate the idea of us fake dating, that's what I want to get away from." The usual amber warmth of his eyes grew dark in time with the increase of his heart rate, the fast pattern ricocheting against you. It was a very rare occasion for you to see Dylan with this level of seriousness that prompted you to fall silent, your own gaze widening as you looked up to the taller man. He clenched his jaw and bit at his bottom lip, gnawing at it from the inside before allowing both of his hands to sit over the structure of your shoulders. Dylan ducked down until he was at your eye level and sighed deeply, "I don't hate you either. Not as much as we're both making it out to be. You can be a pain in my ass, don't get me wrong, and you piss me off to no wit's end, but I don't hate you. Honestly, there's no one else that I'd rather go through all this shit with." Lips quirked upward when a small chuckle was released, his head once more falling into a soft shake. You wanted to return the sentiment but the way his eyes shamelessly flickered between your lips and eyes made you think otherwise.

"Well..." You started, your tongue poking out briefly to wet your lips, feet pushing you up onto the ends of your toes until you matched his height. A breathless whisper is what came next, the grip on your sheet becoming lost as you instead entangled your arms around Dylan's neck, "Promise not to hate me for this, then." You didn't leave any time for contemplation before your lips moulded against his, drawing the man into you until his large hands dragged down the side of your body, leaving a fiery trail in their wake. They settled on your hips and you could feel the flexing of his fingers against your bare skin, making you shiver from growing anticipation. He kissed you back feverishly as he tilted his head and brushed the point of his nose against your cheek. You were desperate for air; inhaling every last offering of his breath after he prodded open your lips further with his tongue. You felt weightless - whether it was from your upcoming lack of oxygen or just the feeling he gave you, you weren't too sure, but it felt amazing regardless.

You only pulled back out of desperation when your forehead dropped to his, ragged panting between you both managing to breathe the silence of the room. It took you a moment to realise that your fingers were now threaded through his hair, the nails lightly scratching at Dylan's scalp and prompting gentle moans to sound into your ears. You could feel him stumbling, but unaware that the tightness of his jeans had increased, blood rushing to where it needed to be when he took another quick glance at your lack of clothing. He groaned internally. Dylan cleared his throat as he nuzzled his nose against yours, dragging the upturned tip once again over your cheek and settling under your ear, "I think we have a problem because I'm very turned on right now and I don't really want to stop kissing you. Or touching you."

You gasped lightly, the thought of his hands and lips travelling over every exposed inch of skin only making you shudder. Whatever form of 'hatred' that surrounded you both for so long was easily forgotten, possibly from the long-awaited admittance of emotions that had remained hidden for far too long. You rocked your head up and down, your swollen lips placing a small kiss along his predominant jawline, "Then touch me, and kiss me. And don't stop until I am screaming out your goddamn name."

Dylan's fingers danced along your shoulder blades and walked down the line of your spine until they reached the restriction of your bra. He kissed your shoulder once, and then another until he managed to unclasp the metal hooks. Before continuing, the man tilted his head back and caught your reciprocated drunk daze, the softness etched across your facial features leaving him utterly mesmerised. "You'll be screaming out more than that when I'm done with you, sweetheart."

👼🏼 revealing a pregnancy with Dylan please love?

send me EMOJI PROMPTS for a ’blurb time’ blurb -

[ 👼🏼 ] : revealing a pregnancy.

Teeth sunk down into your bottom lip, a sure way to maintain an overly excited squeal as you glanced at the positive pregnancy test in the palm of your hand. The thumping of your heart reverberated against the casing of your ribs, hands quivering, eyes slowly becoming hazy with a fresh glaze of tears. The butterflies fluttering in your chest was a sign of nervousness but you still couldn't tire the widened smile tugging at your lips. You were currently perched on the edge of your couch with anticipation, and you were sure that telling your boyfriend of your pregnancy would be just as exciting as finding out yourself. Everything will be perfect.

You flinched in the slightest as you heard the front door click, familiar heavy footsteps of your boyfriend's boots echoing down the hallway. He called out that he was home, but you couldn't reply - your voice potentially wavering, and you simply wouldn't ruin the surprise. Your fingers fell deep into the pocket of your jacket, the test slipping between the fabric before you managed to push yourself from the couch. It wasn't until you saw the bright glow of his brown eyes round the corner, that you knew, that you wanted your unborn child to share the same beautiful hue.

Dylan's face immediately softened when he saw your frame waiting for him, arms held out to encase around your body and pull you flush against his front. His head ducked down to pepper gentle kisses over your forehead, his lips trailing up into your hairline. You could feel him hum against your skin and the simplest of actions have never made you feel so loved. "Hey, sweetheart." He murmured, taking his time to give you a gentle squeeze, his body rocking you both momentarily side-to-side. Your arms snaked out from between you to wrap around his back, hands flat and rubbing over his spine. He sunk with contentedness. "How was your day?"

You didn't mean to, but your body stiffened. The excitement from the past hour creeping over your exposed skin and leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake. You wanted to tell him, so desperately, but the way he pulled away from you and presented a look of concern made your elation somewhat deflate. Your eyes grew wide when you realised that there was a misunderstanding. You bit your lip again, the corners of your mouth still able to quirk into a smile as one of your hands cupped his cheek. Your head shook, "I have something to show you. It's not bad, I promise. I'm just... I really need you to sit down for this." You spoke, finding hilarity in the way Dylan's own eyes scrunched in confusion before he obeyed your request.

Unable to resist, you perched yourself across his lap, legs hanging over his left leg as his right arm circled around your frame to support you. Close proximity like this is what got you in this situation in the first place, but his comfort was too tempting. He was still baffled by the odd occasion but still leant in as you placed a slow and tender kiss on his lips. They remained pursed as you pulled away, chasing your own set before lifting into a playful smirk. "What's got you so affectionate?" He wondered aloud, chin dropping to your shoulder, eyes trained on yours.

You grabbed his left hand and gave it a tight squeeze before uncurling his fingers, your own eyes making sure that he wouldn't look away from your joint gaze. He was so utterly mesmerising to look at, to the point where you nearly dropped the test before placing it in his hand, pushing his lengthy fingers back over it. Gentle kisses pressed to Dylan's forehead before he pulled back, his eyebrow once again cocked with playful scepticism before looking casually at the object in his grasp.

It was sudden when his face fell into absolute shock. He didn't expect to see the test in his hand, and better yet, he didn't expect to see two large red lines dawning the result screen. His mouth fell ajar and rapid breaths began to escape him, his brown eyes glazed with a set of tears which only opened the flood works of your own. His head shook but it couldn't delay the growing width of his grin as he flashed an expression of exhilaration. You could feel his body shaking and it reminded you of earlier when the adrenaline was running through every vein you owned. He finally looked into your eyes, droplets that had gathered on his lash line now rolling down his cheek, "Are you serious? Are we having a baby?"

You nodded, letting your tears also run free, not wanting them to stop if it meant staying in this beautiful moment with your boyfriend. You moved forward to lock your lips again, his sweetness mixed with the saltiness of your tears, the depth of your union increasing when tongues swiped across one another. Moans of pleasure so easily blended with groans of happiness and unspoken moments of love. You released his bottom lip as it slid out between your own, foreheads now joined together, breathing patchy and laboured.

You gulped before nuzzling your nose against his, "You're going to be an amazing father, Dylan."

Idk if these are still open but if they are ‘I need to make love to you tonight’ with Dylan please :)

Warnings: mentions of sexual language/activity, swearing, drunkeness

Notes: using [THIS] for brief inspiration!

"I NEED TO MAKE LOVE TO YOU TONIGHT."

His words, although harnessing every ounce of sweetness that this simple world could offer, was slurred loudly through his wandering lips as they targetted the side of your neck. The reverberations of his drunken moans created a story of salaciousness that pressed to your skin, igniting a shiver of excitement that ran up your spine. He had a knack for setting your senses on high alert, the reaction your body had to just his touch alone was enough to send you into a longing daze of euphoric phenomena. What made matters more interesting was that Dylan knew exactly what he was doing; every word he spoke, pressure point he sucked, caress he dragged over your tingling skin. It was his way of expressing what he wanted, yearned for, and that he wasn't going to back down, not in the utmost slightest.

"No, you need to take your aspirin." Your retort managed to squeak past your faintly parted lips, arm jarring as it reached out to push back his heaving chest. The muscles that flexed below your prodding fingertips shook with soft laughter, Dylan finding hilarity in your attempt to pretend that you didn't need this as much as he did. He was too disoriented to remain upright before Dylan's body slipped back from your own, his head bouncing softly off the pillow as he settled down. Never once did his hooded eyes leave the slightly amused expression that contorted your features; lips pursed to perfectly complement the soft head shake you subconsciously offered. Your tongue clicked behind your teeth, gaze shying away from the deep reverence that featured within his golden hues. Even when inebriated, the man still looked at you as if you put all the stars in the sky.

"Dylan, I'm not joking."

The attempt at a serious tone slightly wavered before you watched his smile grow, one possessing great love and devotion as he settled back into the softness of the pillow. "You're going to wake up with a killer hangover, and I won't have you fucking whinging to me again about how bad the room is spinning-" Quickly, your voice began to die in your throat. Words dissipated at the feeling of breathlessness as if you'd momentarily forgotten how to exhale. Not that it was difficult to determine why, with simplicity in its finest form acting as the reason for your broken focus; his bottom lip tugged between teeth as Dylan felt his heart swell with adoration at your nurturing nature.

"Mmm, don' need that when I 'ave you with me, baby.." His voice was raspy, a deepened tone that encouraged a rosy blush to devour the complexion of your cheeks. The man could play you like a fiddle.

Dylan chuckled, his chest jumping before he dropped his hands flat against the mattress. It was slow as he pushed himself back to an upright position, your thoughts swarming with hopefulness that his mind had changed about taking the pain killers and calling it a night - alas, as you turned back from the pill bottle on the nightstand, you could feel the upturn of Dylan's nose graze against your cheekbone. Warm breath fanned down your neck as you were met with the scent of cheap beer and whisky, an odd combination that you were finding captivating the more he pressed into you. Dylan's fingers splayed over your waist as the other caressed down your cheek, loose strands of hair soon taking up vacancy behind your ear. His touch was soft as it trailed over patches of exposed skin; a story told through the tenderness he possessed so proudly, his growing smirk ghosting over your lips when he felt the spike of goosebumps he provoked.

You were breathing him in as if he were your lifeline, the feeling of your noses as they nuzzled so incredibly soft and close to one another enhancing the bittersweet incapability to find dependency away from his presence. He was a drug and you were intoxicated by the desperation he pulled from you; the neediness you developed for his protective hold around your frame and how his kisses encapsulated complete bliss and ecstasy. You were constantly drawn to the kindness that always reached his eyes and how he would, without a second thought, give up the world if it meant having you happy and safe by his side.

He wasn't going to kiss you - not like this, not when he could barely hold his head up without it falling against your forehead, or to the crook of your neck where he often took solitude. The man gulped harshly, his adam's apple bobbing when his nose traced an invisible line across your cheek. The desire to ravish you right there and then grew stronger, despite the inner conflict he faced about taking advantage when he was in such a drunken demeanor. He needed you close and he needed you more, but he couldn't.

Your hands had somehow found a home grasping at his shoulders before you slowly pulled them down to Dylan's chest, the erratic thumping of his heart dancing against your palm. You gingerly licked your lips, finally drawing in a deep breath as your mind lowered to an unalcoholic sobriety of its own. "Dyl, just drink your water and take the damn medicine, please. Don't make me mom you."

His chest jumbled with another small laugh, "Mom me, huh? All bossy-like? Mmm, that's hot, babe.. not a threat.."

Swiftly, your head fell back, eyes closing as they face the ceiling. You released a groan from the base of your throat, frustration taking ownership of the tone. He was impossible. "Why are you like this?" You said in exasperation, hands rubbing over his t-shirt before journeying to the man's wrists. Your fingers curled around them, a slight squeeze shown as a subconscious act of affection. Your head shook from a developing idea, the utilization of bribery being the last tactic you wanted to exercise but the childish man sitting across your bed didn't leave you much choice, regardless of just how much you loved him.

"Take the fucking medicine and I'll give you a blowjob."

Brown eyes immediately grew wide as if he was embedded with an alarm clock, an indicator of some sort that caught the man's attention when the uncharacteristic sentence fell from your lips. He had to blink twice, three times, to process whether he heard you correctly. He could determine your sincerity by the expecting quirk of your eyebrow and how your arms were now crossed over your chest, waves of solemnity pulling at every inch of your face and body. He was in disbelief that you were fucking serious.

"...Quick, babe, you have five seconds to make your choice." You continued after his verbal lack of communication. Your fingers were already beginning to dip past the waistband of his jeans, the muscles of his abdomen flexing against the delicate swirl of your gentle touch. "Five... four... three..."

"Yes - fuck, Y/N/N.. I'll do it, please.."

Heeey, can i have neck and waist from the prompt list with Dylan please?

send me a PROMPT for a 'kiss me' blurb -

[ WAIST ] : receiver catches sender around the waist right before they kiss them.

[ NECK ] : sender brings a hand up and rests it on the back of the receiver’s neck, pulling them in for a kiss.

It wasn't often that you both chose to go out for date night, and tonight, in particular, was no different. There was just something so appealing about a home-cooked meal and cuddling in front of an old-timey movie playing in the background. You and Dylan both adored the simple things in life, the normalcy that isn't often represented in the lives of those of the rich and famous. Knowing him, he'd be more than happy with a burger from McDonalds and large fries - however, you also knew that he deserved to be treated with something a bit more special than usual take-out. This is what led you in front of a hot stove, surrounded by an array of ingredients, with the small huffs and swears of Dylan echoing from the other room.

You ducked your head around the corner and furrowed your brows at your boyfriend's actions, scanning over the intensity of concentration sketched across his facial features. He was setting the table with the tip of his tongue poking through his lips, his own eyebrows crossing. You could see the remnants of a beautiful summery bouquet scattered over the top of your dining table, water from the fallen vase dripping off the sides of the table from the spilt puddle. Your hand flew to your mouth, stifling a chuckle as you continued to watch him. It wasn't until you chortled that little bit too loud that Dylan whipped his head in your direction, eyes growing wide at the fact that he was caught out. Your lips curled inward as they pursed, shoulders still wavering from now silent laughter.

His feet kicked off and were soon hot on your heels as you retreated back into the kitchen. You maneuvered around the island bench, making sure to keep your eyes set on Dylan when he flattened his hands against the opposite side from you. His furrowed eyebrows were challenging your next move, communicating that no matter where you go next, he'll be right there to catch you. You barely moved a foot to your left before large hands suddenly clasped around your waist, playfully tugging your back against a strong chest. Dylan leaned back so that he was perched against the sink, your body flush against his, the man's lips peppering small pecks over the exposed skin under your ear. Shivers provoked goosebumps up your arms from his touch, and he began to laugh at your small moans of protest when he pulled away. Dylan sighed, "You weren't supposed to see that I fucked up, ya know? Kinda ruins the whole 'perfect boyfriend' thing I had goin' on."

You turned in his arms before peering up at him with an expression of admiration, hands linking behind his neck. You smiled sheepishly at him, "You're still perfect, even if you break my favourite vase and leave water marks on my dining table." You followed his wandering gaze when they flicked down to your lips, his tongue poking out once more to quickly lick at his own. Even after all this time together, you still found yourself growing giddy and weak at the simplest actions Dylan made, especially when they led to your arms wrapped around each other and lips sharing sweet kisses.

One of your hands dragged fingers through his brunette hair, nails scraping lightly at his scalp in a way that you knew soothed him. The other sat flat against the back of his neck, applying small pressure as you pulled his head down toward you, the aim to affix your lips against his gently. Dylan complied immediately. He applied pressure into your union as one hand remained grasping your hip and the other slid down conspicuously past your lower back. His nose probed against your cheek when he turned his head, taking the lead with a desperate nudging of his tongue until you gladly granted him access - you could feel him smile easily against your lips. The urgent sensation was enough to create a groan of pleasure to escape you, needing to stand on your toed so that you could push yourself even closer to him, ready to take your moment to a deeper level when you heard an interfering hissing sound.

Your head pulled away and was focused onto the stove, whatever you had bubbling in the pot was now overflowing and dripping onto the hotplate. You swore under your breath and ran toward the disaster waiting to happen; fiddling with the dials before gloved hands moved the pot onto a cold space on the stove. Dylan peered over your shoulder and hummed, fingers somehow fiddling with a spoon that you had no recollection of him picking up. He moved past your hurrying frame and scooped up the liquid that was still falling from the pot. His shoulders lifted into a shrug after he tasted your food, "Good. Not as good as the taste of your tongue down my throat, but still good."

CONGRATS ON 500 I ADORE YOUR WRITING !! can i request “ i know i'm balls deep inside of you right now... but fuck, you have no idea how bad i want to propose.” with dylan please ??

SEND ME A PROMPT FOR MY 500 SLEEPOVER!

Warning : this contains smut references, please proceed with caution.

"I KNOW I'M BALLS DEEP INSIDE OF YOU RIGHT NOW... BUT FUCK, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW BAD I WANT TO PROPOSE."

The fractured panting of Dylan's words were muffled by the curve between your neck and shoulder, but you still heard them, you still felt them as his thrusts got deeper and the fingers digging into your scalp pressed harder. He was pouring every ounce of his heart and devotion into his movements, and you were sure that if it grew any stronger, you'd soon be crumbling beneath his touch. The thought even crossed your mind that maybe he didn't realise what he confessed, maybe he was so lost in a trance that his utmost desires spilled out into confession of love that he didn't know was voiced loud enough for you to hear.

It wasn't until he slowed his hips, eventually coming to a stop, that it occurred to you that Dylan finally understood what was said. You were still so taken aback; eyes forced to flutter open as they focused on the man above you, the strength of his veiny arms holding up his body weight after your sweaty chests were pressed to one another only moments ago. He immediately looked down to you, the lustful glaze settling over his amber hues slowly fading. The rough contortion of his eyebrows and scrunched nose was quickly replaced by softened facial features and a hopeful stare. He was looking at you like you were the sun, and he'd just seen daylight for the first time.

"What did you say?" Your voice was quiet, timid in case you needed to brace yourself for the possibility of your dreams not coming true. The way Dylan tucked stray hairs behind your ear so gently, however, was enough to calm your nerves. He chuckled so incredibly light that you swore the sweet sound was the softest thing you had ever heard, his head dropping down slightly to fall into a brief shake. Dylan reached for your left hand before holding it to his chest, the rapid pace of his heartbeat reverberating underneath; only this time, it was more so from the big step he was about to take, and not the passionate sex that had him gripping at the headboard.

"What I was trying to say.." He started, pulling your hand to his swollen red lips, a tender kiss placed over your knuckles, "Will you marry me?" The confident man that you admired so much on screen had pushed his way to the surface, the directness of his proposal not needing an explanation or story to precede it; the look on his face telling you already that he was so deeply in love.

The need to marry you weighed on his mind for a couple of months - the ring already pre-bought and sitting up high where Dylan knew you couldn't reach. He would often gaze over the glistening diamond stone when you weren't around, imagining it sitting perfectly on your finger for the world to see - for the world to know that you were his, and would be for the rest of your lives. It wasn't until he reveled in the way you touched him so tenderly, and how you would subconsciously pull yourself into his body and encage him with your desperate limbs, that Dylan realised that this moment... as odd as it was, that he was ready to forever call you his.

You could feel tears pricking behind your eyes, already beading on your lash line, the moment finally catching up to you. It was subconscious when your eyes then flickered to the hand held captive against his naked chest, Dylan following your line of sight before he began to stammer, "I-I have a ring... it's just... I don't really want to... leave you... right now." The man gestured to his torso was slight embarrassment, his still hardened girth throbbing inside you from the upkeep of adrenaline.

"Don't worry about the ring." You said, smiling with every spark of happiness you could muster. Your hands managed to drag their way up to Dylan's cheeks, holding them carefully as if they were made from the finest of porcelain. The small teardrops that rolled down your cheek complemented your affectionate eyes and passionate caresses perfectly, Dylan already learning of what your answer to his big question would be. It wasn't until the eager nodding of your head and the soft sniffle you gave that tears of his own began to stain Dylan's flushed cheeks, a chuckle now protruding from your own lips before you gathered the warm beads on your thumbs.

You bit your lip, head still nodding as if you were stuck on a loop, "Of course, I'll marry you, Dylan. Yes. I love you, yes!"

gaze w/ dylan for the kiss me?

send me a PROMPT for a 'kiss me' blurb -

[ GAZE ] : right before the kissing begins, sender gazes at receiver’s lips, then back up at their eyes, waiting for them to make a move or give confirmation.

Small laughs were a constant interruption during your scene with Dylan, the chortles slipping from both your mouths every time you both got too close to one another. It didn't help in the slightest that the brunette man would purposely pull a childish face at you when your noses were close enough to touch - this time, in particular, was caused by the crossing of his eyes and tip of his tongue poking out at you. The director was playing along at first as he made small jokes himself about content for the gag reel, but fifteen minutes later and he was yelling CUT! like a broken record and rolling his eyes with a hidden smile ghosting his lips.

Dylan pushed out a lip-trill as a way to compose himself, his hands shaking out at his sides. You were only seconds behind following his lead until you were both sure that the zaniness was at a minimum. The director indicated that filming was resuming before your hands gently gripped Dylan's arms, the personality of your characters taking over once more as you stared up into his whisky-coloured eyes. Lines dripping with every possible essence of love fell so easily from your lips, almost immediately reciprocated from your partner's character. The scene was easily set and the mood grew swiftly between your flushed chests.

Your eyes focused on the plumpness of his lips - so simple, but so enticing. It was hard to remember that this was a scripted scene and not an invitation to jump on him for no apparent reason. The act of his tongue slipping out quickly to lick his lips broke your focus and caused you to drag your gaze back up to his. Your head tilted softly to the side as your eyes asked... dared... him to finish the job. In true Dylan fashion, the smallest of smiles tugged at the corners of his mouth and he leaned into you, pressing his lips to yours and scrunching his nose as he deepened it. The peck didn't last long as he pulled away, forehead against yours. It was time for you and your castmate to join once more in a union that was determined by the way his tongue dragged across the bottom lip of your red-painted smirk, and as if on cue, you allowed him access. He sunk entirely, his tongue dipping deep inside as if he needed a part of you to help him breathe.

It had to have just been acting, surely, but it was definitely perfect.