#Sex scene from Ram’s pov when ….

[webanglikethat]

on my way to take a pregnancy test because holy fuck

don’t ask me anything about the update, this is all I will be talking about till logic leaves my mind, till my vocal cords evaporate, till my eyes bleed out.

[leather-ropebunny]

Time Out

Reposting this from my old deleted blog.

Notes: contains rape, gang rape, free use, mentor/mentee, bondage, objectification, degradation, humiliation, dirty talk, slapping, general sexual violence, FTM POV, MxFTM

Minors DNI

♡♡♡♡♡

The first time it happens, I'm thankfully alone.

I usually work with a team of my fellow superheroes, but this had been a simple burglary, so I'd insisted I could handle it alone.

Slipping into the house, I manage to locate a shadowy figure plucking something shiny out of a jewelry box in the bedroom, and then…

And then…

And then I blink, and I'm naked, face down ass up on a stranger's bed, shoulders pressed into the pillows, and my body is convulsing in a mind-blowing orgasm. I can feel a thick river of hot cum sliding down one thigh, pushed out of me as my boycunt clenches with every powerful spasm.

My body is sore, like I'd been in a fight, and I can feel bruises forming on my throat, my hips, my cheekbone. My mind can't latch onto what's happened, and it's all I can do to tug my uniform back on and flee the scene, leaving the mess of cum and my own slick behind in a complete stranger's sheets.

The second time it happens, I'm not so lucky to be alone. The robbery in progress seems a bit more intense, and my mentor and I head to the cafe to put a stop to it. After we arrive, though…

I come to, bent over the counter, my uniform pulled just far enough out of the way to display my cunt and tdick to the staff, the customers, the cops, and my mentor. As soon as I register reality, there's a second of shocked silence, and then I'm cumming again, dripping semen onto the cafe floor, my eyes trained on the reflection of my mentor's gaze in the espresso machine. He's staring at my pulsing cunt, and he looks horrified, yes, but also darkly hungry.

I think it's that thought that makes another, weaker orgasm ripple through me.

We try to figure out what's happening, but to no avail. I know, of course, that somehow I'm having sex. Being raped, most likely. The mystery is how, why neither I nor the people around me seem to remember it. We're all stumped.

It happens again

(on a crowded subway car, pressed up against the doors, coming back to reality as I'm falling onto the platform when they open, twitching and moaning as commuters gather around to watch)

and again

(seated on a park bench, legs in the air until I'm almost folded in half, each ankle tied to the trees on either side of me so I'm helpless and exposed to the cell phones recording me once passers-by realize what's happening)

and again

(trussed up and dangling from a streetlamp, my own panties muffling my whimpering as crowds of drunk men leaving the bars after last call realize my wet, naked boycunt has been conveniently left at cock-height, perfectly set up for it to be gang raped)

until it feels like it's happening every time I go out to fight crime.

Finally, I decide that if my team can't figure out what's happening (won't figure it out? I hate to think it, but they seem like they're starting to…enjoy it…), I'll get to the bottom of it myself.

I rig up nanocams to follow me everywhere as I go about my days, and every night I review the footage, but nothing odd sticks out, no sign of anything unusual for a week.

Then I get called out again, and this time I come to on my back on a detective's desk in the middle of the police station bullpen. They laugh as my eyes roll back in my head, legs shaking, and one of them sticks three fingers into my fucked-out, dripping cunt and finger-rapes me roughly until I cum again. I'm too confused, too humiliated to think of telling him to stop, and while I'm cumming a second time, another cop takes that as an invitation to ram his cock into me and pound it painfully into my cervix again and again until he floods my womb with cum.

They laugh again once he's done raping me, and I totter away on shaky legs to our headquarters, slipping into my room to pull up the footage and get to the bottom of this.

It had been a prisoner escape - no one was sure how he'd managed to get away, but as I fast-forward to the moment I had arrived at the station to assist, I can see exactly what's happening. The perp is periodically freezing time.

It all starts to fall into place.

I watch, horrified, as I run into the police station, and the masked figure on the screen gestures, time stopping in an instant.

I watch as he approaches me, reaching out to caress my cheek, then pulling his arm back and slapping me. My head jerks to the side, but I don't react.

As I watch in the present, I lift a hand to feel the heat of a newly forming bruise on my face.

The perp grabs me around the waist with the ease of practice and drops me none-too-gently on the desk. He runs his hands over my body briefly, and I can feel a tingling sensation now, like I can still feel the phantom touch.

He doesn't seem inclined to linger, though, and after a second he starts to move the officers and detectives so that they form a loose crowd around us, positioned as though they're watching. Then, without preamble, he pulls my bottoms off, grabs my ankles to spread my legs, and starts to rape me.

It's violent, his thrusts pushing me across the desk until my head is hanging off the other end, and he keeps having to haul me back towards him. He drops one of my legs to press his hand to my throat, then to slap me across the face, then to my throat again.

There's no sound, but the footage is clear enough that I can read his lips a little as he violates my unwilling body.

'Fucking cockslut…wet already…like it…slap you around…nasty rapedoll…always cum…rape you…your cunt's…only worthwhile part…take it, take it, fucking take it…'

He slams his cock into me brutally, plunging deep, and I watch as he cums inside me, lifting his hand off my throat to backhand me powerfully.

Tucking himself back into his pants, he backs towards the door, and time starts up again. As the cops around me crack up at my shuddering orgasm, the perp escapes, and I watch now from the outside as two cops assault me, as well.

"So that's it," my mentor's voice comes from behind me. "He manipulates time."

I look up at him as he lingers in the doorway, but he isn't looking at the screen or at my face, but at my crotch. That's when I realize that I'm rubbing my aching boypussy through my ruined uniform bottoms, my rapists' cum squelching under my frantic fingers.

When had I started masturbatung to my own rape? When he'd cum inside me? When he'd choked me? Maybe from that very first slap.

My mentor steps closer, and my gaze is drawn to where his cock bulges in his pants, straining against the fabric. My breath catches, and I shake my head, tears beginning to well up.

"Please…please don't."

"No?" He lunges for me, dragging me off my chair and turning me to face my computer, crowding me up against the desk with his bulk. His cock is a hot, throbbing pressure against my ass. "Are you sure? Because it looks to me like you enjoy this."

With one hand, he yanks my saturated bottoms back down, and with the other, he rewinds the video and hits play.

"Always knew you were a dirty fucking whore," he growls, pulling his own pants down just far enough for his cock to spring out, slapping wetly against my asscheek. "And it's about time I do what I've always wanted to do."

He grabs my hip, jamming his cock into my abused cunt, the mess my previous two rapists had left squishing out of my hole, and he begins to fuck me.

I sob, and he fists his free hand in my hair and pushes me down until my vision is filled with the video of the perp using my motionless body in the middle of the police station.

"Look. Look at how easily his cock slips into your pussy. You were already wet. Bet you started soaking your uniform before you'd even gotten there."

"N-no…stop…"

"Oh, yeah," he grunts, his cockhead pressing hard against my bruised cervix as he thrusts deep and holds it there. "You knew what was gonna happen. You've known every time you were gonna get raped."

"No. No. No."

"Oh, fuck. You're clenching down on my cock right now you fucking rapeslut." He starts pounding into me again, pushing my face closer as the cop on screen starts to ram his fingers into my cunt. "You let them rape you even after time had started again. You that desperate for cock?"

"No! I'm not…I don't…please stop!"

"Yeah? You're stronger than they are. Better trained - I should know." His hand leaves my hair to wrap around my throat and squeeze lightly. "But look at you. Just lying back and taking it."

I whimper, and to my horror, begin to rut back onto my mentor's cock. I'm so, so wet. My cunt is so sore, but I can tell it's also puffy and flushed with need. Even as his fingers tighten, choking me, I can feel another orgasm building.

I don't want this. I don't.

But he rewinds the footage again, forcing me to watch as the perp cums inside my unprotected pussy, and groans.

"Yeah, take that load you fucking cumdump," he grunts. "Fucking nympho, that's what you are."

We watch as time starts again and the me in the video begins to cum violently.

With a growl, my mentor shoves his cock into me as far as he can, and hisses, "take it, you stupid fucking rapeslut."

He pumps his load inside me, and yet again, I cum from being raped.

Once he's satisfied he's filled my unwilling womb, my mentor pulls out and watches as I slump to the floor.

"There's another call," he says, tucking himself away. "No time to clean up your uniform or your whore cunt - get out there."

I do, and this time, when I come to, I know I've just been violated in the middle of a busy street. People are staring, laughing, filming while I lie on the pavement, naked, blocking traffic.

As my orgasm rolls through me, I stuff my fingers into my cunt and mercilessly fuck myself until I cum again, thinking of all the footage I'll have to watch with my mentor later.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

waiting for, m | jjk, myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, ft. jungkook

summary: Jeon Jungkook is paying for erotic photos and he is going to jack off to them. Nothing wrong with that, right? Ah, yeah, except, well... he paid for them because he knew the one featured was none other than Min Yoongi's very own girlfriend, who he wanted to fuck very... very much. Probably too much. Shit.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship (yg/you); if it isn't obvious already, sex work involving erotic photography; wild OT7 karaoke scene lol; a whole lotta guilt; smut (fem reader, descriptions of erotic photos with BDSM themes, m-masturbation, phone sex, f-receiving oral); non-idol!AU - (secret) sex worker!reader x music producer!Yoongi ft video editor and photographer!Jungkook and far too friendly?Park Jimin (he always sneaks he way in here, idk how, oop); Jungkook's POV

--

now playing – waiting for by taemin

He was finally alone.

Only now could he breathe.

Jeon Jungkook was on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He knew what he was going to do, but it still felt wrong. It felt wrong being naked on his bed, sheets soft against his skin, illuminated by nothing but his phone screen. The harsh light reflected off his toned chest and his inked right arm as Jungkook held his phone up with his left. He was clutching his phone too hard; he could see that his knuckles were white even in the low light.

He exhaled, pushing the air out of his lungs as he relaxed his grip.

His eyes flickered to the time. Almost. Two minutes.

Part of him felt guilty, even if it wasn’t that guilty of an act. Because it wasn’t, really. It was a service being provided; he wasn’t stealing. He paid for it, just like the others. But still. Part of him felt guilty.

The other part was horny as fuck.

He saw the notification pop up. Hand delivered to his account inbox. It made Jungkook feel special, even if he wasn’t. Every other customer who paid for this tier got the same rewards. It disturbed him a little how his finger didn’t shake anymore when he pressed the ‘open me’ button.

From: _thehornedsin.

In an instant, he was breathless.

The first thing he noticed was her lips. Painted a glossy dark red, perfectly shaped. Slightly parted, with her little pink tongue sticking out. The second thing he noticed was the curve of her chin, nestled above the leather collar with a huge metal padlock. The third thing was the blindfold, black lace layered over lush maroon velvet. And the fourth thing was the horns.

That’s right, the curved, black ram’s horns draped with black lace.

It was a close up shot of her shoulders and face, with the focus on her damn lips. Her absolutely plush, perfectly fuckable lips that demanded to have a cock shoved into them.

Jungkook hated that he thought that, but he did.

She had a few different variations of ram’s horns, but he admired the black the most because they looked almost real, like they were part of her head. It was part of her signature, a striking feature in every picture, along with the blindfold.

She always wore a blindfold.

He flipped through the pictures, slowly, admiring every detail. She was laid across an extravagant red velvet couch, draped in long black lace robes. A single leg stuck out, covered in a sheer black thigh-high stocking and an elegant black pump. With each picture, the layers of lace robe lowered, down her shoulders, her arms. Shots of her bare back, no bra. The top of the garter belt, the curve of her ass.

A whole goddamn story, packed in those pictures he now had on his phone.

His right hand slid down his side, creeping down his abs. He gasped as his fingertips brushed his cock, already hard, staring at a perfect photo of her back view, knees on the couch, hands on her ass and spreading her cheeks. Still wearing the heels and the fucking sheer thigh-highs. His hand grasped his cock. Jungkook swiped again.

Holy fuck.

Front view now, tongue between her teeth, legs crossed, her perfect fingers elegantly poised, framing those flawless tits. Nails painted red with black crystals, matching the entire vibe of the photoshoot. Pointing straight to her nipples, large and hard. Jungkook let himself pump now, slow, breathing already shallow. Swipe. Legs open, nails sinking into her juicy thighs, pussy glistening with her chest jutting out. He fucking zoomed in. He zoomed in and moaned softly, seeing that beautiful wet opening. His right hand went faster, harder. Swipe. She was holding fucking wooden clothespins, back arched against the couch, one leg leaning against the back and the other lazily trailing the floor.

Swipe.

His hand was moving of his own accord now. Jungkook was getting to the end of the pictures and of himself. The clothespins were on her nipples. He whined, seeing her poor nipples pinched, her mouth open, tongue licking her lips. Fuck, it was like he was there. Fuck, it was like he had been waiting just for this. Swipe. The next, one hand between her legs, the other pushing her tits together, nipples red from being constrained. His hand was moving so fast, cock throbbing, nearing release, breathing so hard that he was winding himself.

Swipe.

Head thrown back, leather collar with the heavy padlock right between her collarbones, tits sticking straight up, clothespins in the damn air, three fingers shoved into her tight pussy, already dripping and soaked. Jungkook could even see splatters of her juices on her inner thighs, shiny and slick thanks to the lighting.

He came.

Jungkook fucking exploded, moaning and gasping, his cock jerking in his hand as white spurts of semen shot out, all over his hand, his thighs, his bedsheets. He hadn’t expected to cum that fast or that hard, but he hadn’t expected the damn picture either. He gritted his teeth, squeezing his cock tight, as if it wasn’t his hand, as if he was inside that pussy he was staring at right now. Swipe. The last one. Her smug smirk, hand up, shiny fingers spread and covered in her orgasm. Pink tongue sticking out, licking her middle fingertip.

His eyelids fluttered, rolling back into his head as he opened his hand and spread his orgasm all over the head of his cock, aggravating the sensitivity and heightening the pleasure, torturing himself.

Once again, for another month, he came to the erotic photos of _thehornedsin. The photos he paid for, along with a few hundred other patrons. The photos of someone he knew, someone he would see tomorrow in person, someone who he shouldn’t be in love with, but was. And he was guilty, guilty because he was in love with her and was too ridiculously happy when he was told that she was low-key a sex worker.

Min Yoongi’s girlfriend.

-

“Did you know Yoongi-hyung’s girl has a sexy Twitter?”

At the time, he had no idea this question would change his life.

Jungkook raised his eyebrows, already three pieces deep in barbequed beef bulgogi. His mouth was completely filled and he chewed noisily, giving his friend Park Jimin a strange look. Jimin was on his phone, swiping with the hand that was holding his chopsticks.

“Let me bring it up,” Jimin was saying.

Jungkook swallowed, throat stretching too far. He coughed, taking a long sip of his beer. “There’s no way she has a sexy Twitter,” he chuckled. “Hyung would never let that happen. You know how possessive he is.”

Jimin waved his chopsticks dismissively. “Here.” And he turned his phone around.

Twitter profile for _thehornedsin. Pictures of woman wearing fake ram’s horns and a blindfold, strangely eerie and elegant, in beautiful lingerie. All hot. All sexy as fuck. Jungkook was already getting hard and these were only racy photos.

“Pfft, how is that hyung’s girlfriend?” he snorted, mentally noting the username because if that woman was single, he was definitely going to send a DM her way.

“Because,” Jimin continued, turning the phone back to himself to scroll upwards. “There are Yoongi-hyung’s hands.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. Large male hands pressed against the woman’s soft breasts, their heads out of frame, a silver necklace draped right in her cleavage. He recognized the rings Yoongi usually wore, the silver bracelets. There was even that black beaded bracelet Jung Hoseok had made for Yoongi a while back.

“They… they can’t be…” Jungkook sputtered.

Jimin grinned. “It is. I asked already.”

“You what?” Jungkook felt his ears burn. “You pervert!”

Jimin laughed, tucking his phone away and cheerfully grabbing some meat off the grill. “It’s a public Twitter. I only confirmed my suspicions.”

Jungkook began to stuff his face distractedly, trying to not think about how hard he was getting now that he knew this information. “How did you even find it?”

“I follow a lot of sexy Twitters. And pay for their email subscriptions if they have them.”

Jungkook choked. “You do what?”

“I pay for erotic photos,” Jimin stated calmly. “You know, support the artist.”

“Artist,” Jungkook echoed hauntingly.

Jimin narrowed his eyes. “Yes, artist. Because they are real people and they work hard to take good pictures to help good human beings like me get off.”

Jungkook mouthed the words good human beings and Jimin scowled at him, popping a piece of grilled beef in his plump lips.

“How many times have you just looked up pics or videos and jacked off?” Jimin accused. “You don’t need to answer, because I already know the answer is, a lot. Tons of people don’t want to pay for porn. That’s fine. But I do, because there are people who work hard and do cool shit and I want to support that.”

“Weren’t you seeing someone?” Jungkook interrupted.

Jimin shrugged. “I was. We looked at them together when we were dating.”

“You… looked at Yoongi-hyung’s girlfriend’s sexy pics… with another woman?” Jungkook blinked, disbelieving.

“Yeah, I did. She liked them too.”

His mind was blown.

“She thought the horns were cool. Me too.”

They were kind of weird, but the more Jungkook thought about it, the more he kind of liked it too. A fun play on words with them being ram’s horns and all. They gave her a dark vibe.

“What’s with the blindfold?”

“Well, obviously so her identity isn’t that easy to figure out. And it’s hot.”

It was. Jungkook’s dick was throbbing thinking about it.

“She has a paid subscription, with nude photos.”

Jungkook’s eyes bulged. “She has what?”

Jimin gave him a pitiful look. “Nude photos. Because she is a sex worker. Jungkook, are you an adult or what?”

His jaw flapped trying to form a sentence. “W-Well, I’m not trying to look up erotic photos on Twitter usually! I follow gaming stuff.”

Jimin shook his head. “Poor Jungkookie. So innocent to the world.”

There was a short silence of Jimin chewing and sipping beer.

“Do you… pay for her subscription?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Of course.”

Jungkook gave him a very pointed, eager look.

Jimin smirked. “Pay for it yourself. Support your friends.”

-

The subscription wasn’t very expensive. Jungkook paid for it the second when he got home, gaining immediate access to a few of the most popular sets.

He never jacked off so many times in one night.

For a bit more money, he could gain access to all of her photo sets.

So, he paid for that too and, over the course of a week, nearly lost his dick with how many times he masturbated. He should have made it last longer. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t because for the two years Yoongi and his girlfriend had been dating, Jungkook had thirsted over that ass and those thighs. For two years, he had been staring at her tits, wondering what they looked like. For two years, he had been admiring the way her lips pressed into Yoongi’s, wondering what that kiss felt like.

And to find out he could get her sexy as fuck nudes for a fee?

Fuck yeah, he paid for them.

She posted a new set once a month. The lowest tier got the non-nude erotic photos, the middle tier got those and the nude ones, and the highest tier got all the photos, including teasers and a few nudes during the month. Casual, in bed ones. Some with Yoongi’s hands doing various things to her. Things Jungkook wanted to do, like playing with her nipples, fingering her, and shoving toys in her holes.

He wanted more.

But then again, he always had.

-

Seeing her snuggled up to Min Yoongi’s side at the karaoke room was torture.

Torture because he wanted to be Yoongi and torture because he wanted to be the fucking chair under her ass. She was wearing a red plaid dress with Yoongi’s hoodie over it and black thigh-high socks. They were laughing at Kim Seokjin’s drunken high notes, taking shots together. Her cheeks were pink and pressed against Yoongi’s flushed face. His hyung was always more lovey-dovey when he was tipsy. Surprisingly, she was always quite calm, as if she wasn’t drunk at all.

Yoongi nuzzled her neck and kissed it.

Jungkook fumed, eyes fixated on the dirty floor because he couldn’t bear to look.

Park Jimin planted himself next to him, holding the karaoke iPad.

“Whatchu wanna sing?” he said, grinning, pink cheeks glowing.

Jungkook struggled to sound neutral. “Er… I dunno. I don’t like singing.”

Jimin nudged him. “Yes, you do. You love singing. And she loves your voice.”

“Jimin…”

Jimin loved poking the bear. The bear being Jungkook’s infatuation with Yoongi’s girlfriend.

“They’re looking for a photographer,” he said suddenly.

Jungkook swallowed air far too fast, coughing. “What do you mean?”

Jimin tipped his chin to Yoongi and his girlfriend, who were now egging on Seokjin, adding backing vocals to all his words. It actually made Jungkook smile, because the two of them looked cute as shit. Would be a lot easier if he just straight up despised seeing them together, but, alas, life fucked him up good.

“Taehyung can’t do it anymore. He’s moving to the city in a couple weeks ‘cause of his job.”

“Taehyung is their photographer?” Jungkook whispered shrilly, making Jimin jump.

“Yeah… didn’t I tell you?” Jimin said, squinting. “No?”

Jungkook’s giant eyeballs told Jimin, no, he did not tell him. He snapped his head to Kim Taehyung, who was beside Seokjin, waving Jung Hoseok’s arms around in attempt to add backup dancing to this nonsense. Kim Namjoon was beside them, just straight up yelling, because… well there really wasn’t a reason other than being tipsy. Namjoon cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted particularly loudly, only to jerk back and look at his hands, as if he was confused why he did that.

Okay, maybe Namjoon was actually drunk.

“Taehyung has seen her naked?” Jungkook hissed.

“I mean… you have too.”

“Yeah, but not naked in real life!”

“The pictures are real life?” Jimin said, confused.

Jungkook smacked him in the arm. “You know what I mean!”

Now he was actually furious. Furious that Jimin hadn’t told him, furious that Taehyung hadn’t said anything (not that he would, because that wouldn’t make sense, but Jungkook didn’t care), furious that Yoongi and her looked so fucking cute so he didn’t even want to try and break them up because, fuck, look at them jumping up and down and hugging each other as Seokjin scored a ninety-five.

Fuck!

Jimin got up and suggested another song, tapping the iPad as Namjoon and Hoseok grabbed the mics. Oh, dear. It was going to get loud.

Normally, Jungkook would be singing like crazy too, but he was feeling too many emotions and it was taking everything in him to smile and pretend like he was fine. He exhaled and looked up, trying to enjoy Namjoon shrieking on the top of his lungs as Hoseok attempted the high notes – it was chaotic to say the least.

When he was finally feeling some sense of calm, he sensed a presence next to him.

Oh.

No.

“You aren’t going to sing?”

He turned his head mechanically to see Yoongi’s girlfriend tilting her head at him. Staring at her red lips, the lips he had seen yesterday licking her own cum off her hands. Yoongi’s arm snaked around her waist, hand splayed over her stomach. He didn’t look at Jungkook, cheering on Hoseok instead, hyping him up.

He coughed. “Ah, I don’t know. I have a sore throat.”

She smiled apologetically. “Me too.” Then she smirked. “But probably for a different reason than you.”

Jungkook’s cock woke up suddenly, fighting his jeans.

“Ahaha…”

“Oh, sorry,” she said quickly. “I forgot you don’t like dirty jokes.”

No, that’s not quite it. “Ah… It’s okay.”

He spied Yoongi’s fingers digging into the hoodie. He was listening, all right.

“Jungkook,” she continued, unaware that her saying his name so innocently was making his dick leak an embarrassing amount of pre-cum into his pants. “You still work at that music company, right? Directing and editing videos?”

Jungkook blinked slowly, trying to be calm. She wasn’t even that close. But he could still see how her thighs spread out on the chair when she was sitting down, lightly constricted by her thigh-highs.

“Yeah. I do more editing than directing though. I was only assistant director a couple times.”

“Hmm,” she hummed thoughtfully. “You’re pretty good with a camera, huh?”

His heartbeat accelerated rapidly. “A-Ah… I wouldn’t say that.”

Yoongi’s hand was sliding up. Up. Up to her breasts, cupping one in his hand over the thick fabric. She turned her head, kissing Yoongi on the cheek.

“Going to the bathroom, my love,” she murmured to his skin before standing up and walking out of the loud room. Now Jimin and Taehyung were doing a soulful duet, swaying together as Namjoon pretended to wail. Hoseok and Seokjin where adding background vocals (read: heckling on the top of their lungs) in between chugs of beer.

This left Jungkook and Yoongi sitting in the corner.

Yoongi seemed to be tired from shouting. He was leaning against the chair, wrapped in his black parka and dark blue jeans. Cool and calm, round cheeks flushed.

Jungkook swallowed. He felt the tension. He didn’t know why, because Yoongi obviously knew people got off to his girlfriend’s suggestive pictures. He was part of them, after all. And his hyung must know that Jimin purchased nudes, but their friendship dynamic never changed. In fact, Jimin was quite close to Yoongi (in height too, but Jimin was still shorter), and Jungkook had never seen them act strangely around each other.

He chewed on his lip. He knew it was him. He knew he was the one making it weird. Yoongi was just sitting there, nearly asleep. Harmless.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

Special mini photoset for highest tier members, arriving at 00:00. love, Sin from _thehornedsin

Jungkook made sure he was home by midnight.

And was greeted by the biggest surprise of his life.

-

“Park Jimin!”

It was the next day, and Jungkook was shouting at his phone, in a video call.

The older male rolled over in his bed and rubbed his eyes, black hair rumpled and messy. “Why are you yelling?” he mumbled sleepily, voice hoarse from singing his lungs out last night. “And why the video call?” He was definitely a little hung over. Maybe more than a little.

“So I can see your face as you try to explain to me why you were in Sin’s special mini photoset that was released last night,” Jungkook growled viciously.

The phone dropped suddenly, showing only video feed of Jimin’s white sheets.

“Erm… that couldn’t be me, haha…” Jimin muttered, hastily picking up the phone.

“I recognize your tiny pinkies anywhere.”

Jimin glared at him, turning his eyes into lines. “That’s insulting.”

Jungkook made a noise like a snarling bear.

Jimin winced. “Er, okay, yeah. It was me.” He got up from the bed, stretching. “They just wanted another pair of hands to add to the spooky factor. Yoongi can’t grow another set of hands.”

Jungkook wanted to throw his phone across the room, march to Jimin’s apartment, and strangle him.

Another pair of hands? The whole set had been those four hands all over her body, crawling over her front-tie blue silk teddy, undoing the strings, taking off her matching bra and panties, touching everything. Everything. Her neck, her breasts, her nipples, her stomach, her legs, her fucking pussy, all edited perfectly so it was only arms and hands all over her horned, blindfolded, sinful body.

And Jungkook jacked off to it, because yes, it was sexy as fuck, but he wasn’t happy about it.

“And why,” he growled, “Would you not tell me?”

Jimin raised an eyebrow, yawning. “Why should I? It was strictly professional. I got paid and everything.”

He got paid to touch Yoongi’s woman?

Jimin seemed to realize that was the wrong answer and that Jungkook was slowly frothing at the mouth.

“I didn’t say anything,” he added quickly. “Because I knew you would be jealous and overact like you’re overreacting right now.”

“I’m not…” Jungkook snapped his toothbrush in half as he attempted to brush his teeth. “Overreacting.”

Jimin shook his head. “You need help. You should not be this angry. She is not your girlfriend. You do not own her. Yoongi doesn’t even own her. She is her own person and you need to understand that.”

Suddenly all the rage seemed to be sucked out of him. Jimin was right. He should not be this angry or angry at all. Jungkook suddenly felt very, very guilty and ashamed.

He ended the call without saying goodbye.

-

For two whole weeks, Jungkook didn't look at her pictures.

Every time he wanted to, he told himself he couldn't. Every time he ever so much thought about it, he scolded himself. He used to look at them at least once a day, jack off to them at least two to three times a week. But now he told himself he couldn't.

Now, the only time Jungkook allowed himself visit her was in his dreams. If she appeared, he rejoiced, and if she didn’t, he would have a restless night chasing a shadow. He was aware of how messed up this was, but at this point he was a slave to his dreams.

Jimin didn't take his outburst personally. He even called back later, asking if he was okay. Asking if he wanted to go out to eat or something. But Jungkook refused, telling him in a monotone voice that he was fine.

At the end of a week, Kim Seokjin asked to stop by. He was in the area and wanted to chat for a bit. At first, Jungkook wanted to say no, but he relented. Seokjin was the oldest, after all. Also, he never took no for an answer.

Seokjin popped up with bags of gummies and banana milk. Asked to use the bathroom. They talked about game updates and new releases. The new sci-fi RPG that was coming out in a couple days.

"What happened to your toothbrush?" Seokjin came out of the bathroom, laughing as he held up half of a toothbrush. The half with the brush head.

Jungkook's eyes shifted. "I broke it. Still works though, so I was just going to keep using it."

Seokjin's laugh became squeakier as Jungkook tried to hide his conflicted expression. "Hyung will buy you a new one."

Truth was, Jungkook kept it so he could remind himself every day that he was an asshole.

-

Not masturbating made Jungkook crabby.

He found himself with little patience and constantly annoyed, although he tried to not let it show. Every day, he felt his resolve dying a little. Every night, he dreamed, waking up with a fucking telephone pole in his pants and not letting himself finish, as if he dealing some weird self-punishment for his jealous actions.

In short, Jungkook had put himself in horny jail.

He was sitting in his gaming chair, shirtless, playing Valorant. Even if he wasn't as invested in it as Overwatch, he was still very competitive. He wanted to be good at everything. Or he wanted to distract himself from his actual problems. Probably both.

Ah, his team lost.

He ran a hand through his long hair, fluffy and curled from being unbrushed and slept on. Annoyed, he scooted his chair away from the computer, ignoring his queue requests. Picked up his phone and then remembered he couldn't. Maybe he would go work out or something. Tire himself out.

His phone rang.

Jungkook's phone was almost always on silent. He had memorized the times the important notifications came. His friends, well. They could wait on him and his lack of response. He eyed his phone, knowing it was ringing because the screen was flashing at him. The only reason he picked it up and pressed the green call button was because of the name.

Min Yoongi.

Yoongi was almost as mute as Jungkook was when it came to communication, either in the group chat or phone calls. The only reason Yoongi was active was when it was necessary to collect the other six brain cells of the group. They had a tendency to lose focus of what the point was, such as getting lost on road trips and arguing about where to eat.

Jungkook had a feeling Yoongi did not want to talk about something that involved their friend group.

His stomach churned nervously as he brought his phone to his ear.

"... Hyung?"

"Jungkook!"

Breathless, beautiful, and not Yoongi's voice at all. His heart went to his throat. Guilt made him break out in sweat. He breathed her name into the mic, forgetting the honorific, biting his lip.

In his dreams, he didn’t use the honorific, because she was already his.

"Why... are you in hyung’s phone?"

"Ah, I don't have your number," she replied. "Yoongi said to use his, since you'll answer him."

Well, yeah. Because Yoongi never called unless someone was dying or something equal to that.

"What's wrong?" He moved his phone to his left hand, wiping his sweaty palm on his sweatpants.

"Nothing." A wispy chuckle, almost like Yoongi's. "Nothing's wrong, Jungkook."

The inflection on his name made him gulp. Almost teasing. His right hand slid to his inner thigh.

"How's work?" she asked, making small talk calmly and without a lick of nervousness.

His fingers bunched in the thick gray fabric of his pants, trying to stop his palms sweating. "It's okay. Stressful sometimes. Deadlines and stuff," he mumbled.

"I'm sorry about that." Her tone became apologetic, soft. "I called to ask you a question."

"What is it?"

"Do you..." Barely the hint of a gasp at her words. "Know anything about professional photography?"

Jungkook's eyes widened. Was she asking...? His hand slid under the waistband of his sweatpants. He inhaled sharply as his fingertips touched his stiff cock, ignored for far too long, brushing against his hot, taut skin.

"I..."

"I'm asking," she interrupted, voice as smooth as thick honey. Or butter, even. "Because you've been a longtime follower, busanboy97."

His breathing hitched at his username.

Jungkook did not, however, stop touching himself

"I... I'm sorry..."

She exhaled like a push of smoke straight into his ears. Jungkook moaned. He couldn't help it. He grasped his cock and shoved his pants down, panting into his phone, praying Yoongi couldn't hear him.

"Why are you sorry?" she murmured soothingly. "I send those pictures to you, so you can see them, Jungkook."

And then he heard it. Wet skin being teased, played with. His hand was already moving up and down, lower lip caught in his teeth, moaning low in his throat, desire and want and guilt.

"Are you touching yourself?" she asked, sweet and alluring.

He whimpered an affirmation. "I'm sorry, I can't help it," he rambled, pushing his head back in his gaming chair, rocking his hips into his hand. "I'm so sorry, noona, I know you're Yoongi-hyung's, I don't want to break you guys up, I'm sorry, but I want you, I want you, I want you.” His voice thinned into a whine as his hand massaged his rock-hard cock. It felt so good. It felt so sinfully good, touching himself with her voice in his ear. “I'm so sorry..."

"Shhh..."

She shushed him. Her shallow breathing became needy. The wet sounds in his ear became louder, noisier. Something being slid in and out. Jungkook closed his eyes, imagining her body he had seen so many times before, legs spread open, fingers buried deep into her soaking core, mouth open. Wishing it could be his hands on her curves, wishing he could replace her hand with his cock, wishing he could be the reason she was moaning. He knew it was wrong, but how could it be wrong if she was right here, right here in his ear, whispering his name, nudging him to keep going. There was a sucking sound and a shuddering moan left her lips.

And then he heard a low, familiar hum.

A hum that wasn’t hers.

Jungkook swallowed tightly.

“Hyung…?”

And then he realized that the sounds he was hearing was a mouth on her clit, sucking and licking as she hissed in pleasure. For some reason, his hand wasn’t stopping. It kept going, gripping tighter, pre-cum leaking down his fingers. A loud sucking noise and she cried out in his ear. He heard wood snapping against the floor, the sharp sound of a chair scraping.

“Lower the phone,” Jungkook whispered. His voice surprised him, deep and commanding. “Put the phone next to his mouth.”

He was in no place to give orders, but he just had to, hearing the desperation in her moans as she chased her orgasm.

“Heh.”

She chuckled at him.

And then the sounds became louder, more intense. He could hear it all, Yoongi’s tongue in her folds, drinking her juices, her clit being assaulted by the deft work of an expert mouth, paired with her whimpers of lust as she climbed to her peak.

“Fuck.” He was nearing his end too, cock throbbing in his hand, the head a dark red, stroking himself even faster. “That’s so fucking hot.”

The phone was lifted back to her heavy breaths, chucking softly. “Promise you’ll come over and take pictures of me, Jungkook?”

“I promise, fuck yes.”

“Then cum with me, hm?” Her words were a spell, enchanting him closer and closer to his orgasm. “Cum all over those sexy hands of yours, onto those beautiful thighs. Drip onto the floor, be messy for noona.”

He whined, squeezing his eyes shut, seeing her pretty face above him, ram’s horns framing her head and hair, eyes on him, watching him. Her name floating off his tongue, no honorifics, dreaming she was his, growling into the mic.

“A-Ah, I wish you were here, watching…” he murmured. “Gonna cum for you.”

Her moans hiked. Sounds more uninhibited now, dirtier, yearning.

“J-Jungkook, come on… So close, so, close…”

He imagined her hand tangled in Yoongi’s hair, her hips humping his face.

“Cum for me, right now.”

“Mmm, Jungkook!”

His name punctuated by his own groan as he came with so much force that it actually shot out and hit the floor in long white streaks, soaking into his sweatpants and dribbling onto his hand. He heard her whimper, chair creaking as her hips squirmed, her orgasm being sucked out of her pussy. He heard a satisfied sigh, the soft kisses up her chest, the possessive whisper of her name.

“Yoongi…” she panted.

Jungkook’s chest was heaving, entire body racked with the aftershocks of his pent-up orgasm and shivering with fear as he heard his hyung’s rasp assault his ear.

“Don’t break your promise,” Yoongi snarled.

-

followed by: fall in deeper, m | jjk, myg

--

masterpost

[emmimimii]

#3 Can he do this? | Marius Von Hagen

go away 18 below/ minors! NSFW Ahead!

Fandom: Tears of Themis Pairing: Marius Von Hagen x Reader

(cries its blurry welp)

pov: you're playing tot and he's jealous of the attention you give to the characters in game (aka getting jealous of himself and fucking you to prove that he's better than any 2d guy or just yay another chance/reason to fuck)

Warnings: NSFW, Vaginal penetration, Unprotected sex, fucking sideways, doggy (?), cock cooling, jealous prick

you've always been an avid gamer, and you've been particularly fond of this phone game lately - tears of themis. your favorite character in the game is someone that reminds you of your boyfriend. you just got into the game super recently, so there's a lot of plot chapters you've yet to read, and the only time you get to catch up is when you're home chilling with Marius - though he doesn't seem too happy that you're cooing over how adorable this character is

you're both chilling on the sofa, you leaning on him and he has his head perched on your shoulder. you tap the screen quickly as you skim past the dialogue, occasionally showing him scenes of your fave character doing cute stuff, in which he responds in jealousy "tsk which part of him is cute, im way cuter than he is"

"look Marius! He calls me Oneesan/jiejie too!" "omg he has abs! and I can touch it!" "ahh he's so cute! i can unbutton his shirt oooof! Marius are you seeing this?"

you fawn over the gameplay and the available interactions you were able to do to this pixel made man, completely unaware of the man behind you getting more and more pissed about the lack of attention, and the amount of compliments you're showering this 2D guy who's not him

Marius decides that he'll have none of it, and the hands that were circled around your waist started to reach up. you thought nothing of it, because his hands tend to wander around when you're sitting this close to him

his hands tug on the shirt of your lounge wear, slyly sliding in, running his palms over your skin. the spots he touched felt warm, too warm. it's like he was trying to brand you with his touch. his hands slide up and down, leaving trials of fire on your body. you squirm around, feeling a bit too warm to your liking

"onees-san/jiej-jie, if you keep moving..."

without any warning, his hands reach out to your tits, surprising you, you grip the phone in your hand tighter and let out a little yelp, and he chuckles slightly, pleased by your response, "can you feel me? hah, i doubt that 2D guy can't make you feel that way" his fingers dance on your nipples, giving you a taste of what he can do (you know full well of what he's capable of)

one of his hand sneak down from your tits, sneaking towards your shorts, pulling on the elastic band, letting it smack on your skin, warning you of what's about to come. marius leans closer to your neck, nibbling on it, leaving little red marks that will turn purple in due time

when he finally slides your shorts off, leaving your panties on, the grip on your phone finally loosened and slips out of your hands. his hand reaches to your panties and carefully rubs your clit from above your panties

"oneesan/jiejie, you're dripping! and I haven't even done anything yet." he continues to caress your slit through the thin wet cloth, occasionally dancing on your clitoris, sending you shivers, you attempt to wiggle your way out of his grip, but he holds you down, grinding your ass against his hard hot crotch

"marius-sssstop, my game" you try to get him to stop, even if your body doesn't want to, every touch is sending you to heaven, but it's not you to play right into Marius' cards "onee-san/jiejie, are you still thinking about the game right now? about him?" Marius sounds mad, he stands up, and you get pushed forward to a kneeling position, your ass sticking up in the air. he stands behind you and grabs the deliciously delectable panty covered ass, he pulls down his pants slightly, only enough to free his balls and dick

and he rams in you, hard. and without giving you time to get used to his size, like he always has, he thrusts in again, this time harder and deeper. you hear the loud sound the his skin slapping against yours, the volume of your screams don't even compare - that's how hard he's going

"hah- your wet cunt is gripping on me so well, can he make you feel like this?" he taunts, stabbing deeper into your cervix, every thrust was so deep it hurt, but every time he pulls out to push back in, you feel a sense of disappointment, a feeling of emptiness. it's only for a split second but he leaves you wanting more.

you hear the dirty squelch of your pussy, and you know you love juices are getting pushed out by each plunge, but you never run out, for him, you'll always be dripping. he reaches down and lifts one of your legs, twisting your body, fucking you sideways

the change of position changed his pace a little, it slowed him down a bit, but somehow he's reaching further than he was moments ago. he's intentionally slowing down the pace, he knows you're near climax, but he wants to bully you, he pulls out quickly, and shoots out hot white fluid on your thigh and ass, he almost looks disappointed, but he knows if he came inside you right then, you'd also cum. and as much as Marius looooves fucking you dumb and full of cum (a/n: it kinda rhymes) he also likes to let his bratty self let loose and tease you, even if it means sacrificing what he loves doing - cumming inside you

after taking care of his first load, and smirking at how disappointed you look from not getting what you wanted, he shoves his cock deep in your wet cunt, then stays there, grinding - carefully covering every inch with your juices, he then pulls out, making you whine in disapproval, as you're once again left seconds away from your climax he only leaves his head in you, it feels good, but you want to be filled in deep. and you're in a position where you can't possibly push yourself on to his dick to fuck yourself, so you glare at the man, who's gently rotating his hips to tease your rims, but never giving you what you want most

"I thought onee-san/jiejie was only interested in the game? you didn't seem like you wanted to fuck"

"you-"

without waiting for your reply, he plunges into you again, his juice covered dick sending you chills, you now see what he's been doing - letting your fluids dry on his dick and cooling it, your sensitive pussy reacts to the difference in temperature, and the desire to warm him up again.

you moan in satisfaction as you 'finally' got filled again, but it wasn't enough, you want more, you want his balls to slap your thighs again and again, his dick to reach deeper and harder inside you, you want your insides and the tip of his dick to be bruised from the friction and force, and most of all you want his cum.

though you always complain about how messy and how annoying it is to take birth control after fucking, you doubt that you could ever be satisfied without at least one spurt of cum in you, this man changed you and you never want to fuck without the promise of cum being in you ever again. he pulls out again, with the same tactic in mind, tormenting you, leaving you wanting more after every thrust, but never letting you cum. the only way to make him stop torturing you is for you to beg

"marius please, i-i need your cum inside me"

and that's all it took

"I bet, no, I know he can't do this." he thrusts deep in you, heading straight to your g-spot, making you scream in pleasure, and he keeps going, even when your insides convulse violently, making it hard for him to move, he continues, a little slower but just as deep, when you finally reach your climax, your walls clench tight - milking his cock, making sure he makes your dreams come true, and he does so while fucking you

"fuck, onee-san/jiejie, you're really missing out, the view of your dirty cunt drinking my cum is fucking splendid"

the mixed fluids drip out of your cunt, along your thighs and splats on to the floor, you instantly feel your body slack, and your body only hanging on the softening plug, he carries you to bed, dick still in you the whole time, making you moan with every step he takes, revigorating his dick

the night is still young, so there's plenty of time for more

when he's finally done with you , you hear him whisper aggressively to you "you're mine, onee-san/jiejie. Mine! Mine and mine only!"

-

the next day, while scrolling on your phone to read the news, you find out PAX had bought out the company that made the game you were playing.

i wanted to write jelly bully marius but is a simp for you so he will fuck you however you want if you're honest and beg for it

man i had an idea to write but i forgot about it halfway what is it (hello dementia at 25) or maybe quarter life crisis

ooo yes! suit sex in office and you know how men unbutton the cuff links/buttons to fold up his sleeves - THAT! "got a meeting in 15, gotta make sure your juices don't drench my sleeves - cause I'd rather burn than let those directors smell how sweet you are"

am i really ok?

[salparadiselost]

Incubus AU- Alternative Scene

This is an alternative version of the first scene in the last chapter of “Let the Devil In”. I had originally written it in Tim’s POV, until I decided I needed it to be in Damian’s POV. 

So yeah, here’s an alternative version in Tim’s POV. Not all the details match up because some things got changed in the final version, but I figured some people might enjoy it!

Story Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2151114

“I will not remain at the bottom of the pack,” the little demon hissed, and the sound rang dangerously in Tim’s ears. It had lost the annoyance, and now held a tone as sharp as a snake’s fang. “because I’m going to put you there.”

Damian struck and it was only Tim’s Robin training that saved him from getting a knife to the throat.

Unfortunately, if did mean that he got an angry demon ramming into his shoulder. The kid ploughed into him like a truck, knocking him from his feet and making him fall messily on the ground. The landing was awkward and sent a sharp pain up his arm that told him he might of just broke his wrist. He couldn’t deal with that though, not with a small ball of fury about to bring his knife to Tim’s throat again.

The Luciferean smiled in cruel glee, slashing the weapon forward. Tim jerked to the side, twisting to his feet and barely missed another attack.

But before he could really gain his balance, or figure out what the hell was going on, the little demon was on top of him again. Tim blocked another jab of the knife and swung his foot out to catch the demon. The Luciferean had to twist to avoid the leg, and it gave Tim an opening to smack the knife out of his hand and send it flying across the room.

“You’ve been trained,” Damian noted, jumping out of Tim’s arm reach to circle him from a safe distance. Tim held his hurt wrist to his chest, trying to ignore the slices of pain coming from the limb.

Tim accessed the little demon warily, turning so his back was never to Damian. “What the fuck are you doing?” he snarled, and he flinched when the sound was more human than demon.

“I’m challenging you and taking a better place in the hierarchy,” he said nonchalantly, even though his eyes were anything but careless. He watched him like a serpent preparing to strike.

“And you’ll do that by killing me?” Tim said incredulously, “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Damian scoffed and the sound was as cruel as his knife’s edge. “I do not intend to kill you, sex toy. I intend to make you submit. You are nothing but a weak excuse of a weak species of demon.”

Tim couldn’t completely hide his flinch, and Damian’s smile widened. “And you know that, too. You know that you’re just an inferior little plaything that Todd is keeping around for entertainment.”

“No, I’m not.” Tim snapped, trying to growl like Jason did, but his body betrayed him, and the sound came out cracked.

Damian snorted at the pathetic attempt. “I can’t believe Todd thinks I will bow to the likes of you.”

Tim opened his mouth to say something else, but Damian launched himself at Tim.

Tim tried to dodge, but Damian was prepared for it. He grabbed Tim’s already hurt wrist, and yanked, using Tim’s momentum to topple him back on to the floor. He had felt an internal pop, and when he hit the ground, agony sliced across his dislocated shoulder. Damian pressed his small weight against the injury and made it scream in pain.

Tim choked down a sob, and the little demon’s confidence seemed to crumble for a second. Suddenly, the Luciferean was a kid again. Just a scared kid who was desperately trying be a part of a pack and didn’t understand what he was doing.

“Damian,” Tim said, fighting to keep his voice even through the pain. The boy’s weight on his shoulder lightened and the younger demon stared at him with wide eyes. “You don’t need to do this.”

“But I do,” Damian insisted, and Tim could see frustrated tears in his eyes. “Todd hates me. I need to show him that I deserve to stay. I’m not weak.” “This isn’t the way to do that.”

Damian hesitated, before suddenly his gaze steeled and became knife sharp. “This is the only way.” He growled, pressing into Tim’s shoulder with renewed viciousness. He howled as pain screamed through his arm.

“Submit, sex slave,” Damian yelled above him, his tiny face twisted. “Just submit already.”

“No,” Tim spat. He tried to flip them, using his greater weight to pin the boy, but Damian sharpened his hand into claws and ground them into Tim’s shoulder. Five knife slices scorched his skin and Tim spasmed in pain.

Panic rose in his throat and made his breath stutter. The fear that his adrenaline had been keeping at bay, suddenly roared to the surface, threatening to overtake everything.

The kid didn’t seem like a kid anymore. 

He was a demon.

A demon with the intent to cause him pain and rejoice in it. A demon that wanted nothing more than to see him whimpering on the ground. A demon that only wanted to win and crush Tim under his foot. 

Be careful of the Luciferean. They only want power, and they don’t care who they hurt to get it. 

Jason was right and now Damian was going to make him pay in pain because of it.

The demon over him tasted like victory and instead of being sweet, it was sour enough to choke. 

Desperately, Tim scrabbled for the bonds in his chest, thinking that maybe he could get someone’s attention if he yanked them hard enough. 

“No,” Damian commanded, voice hard, “None of that.” 

Then, Tim’s bond with Damian felt like it was on fire. It burned. It scorched. It made Tim feel like he was being burned from the inside out. 

He screamed as his world was swallowed in agony and flame.

“Submit,” hissed the demon in his ear, “submit to me, incubus.”

Tim couldn’t even think past the pain to answer.

Where was his pack? Where was Jason and Dick and Bruce? Why weren’t they here?

He keened and it was a long, painful sound that came the back of his throat. Then, there was a growl, much too deep to Damian’s and a yelp. The weight that had been digging into his shoulder was suddenly lifted, and there was a crash across the room. “Get the fuck off of him,” Jason snarled, and the sound reverberated through Tim’s bones.

Tim struggled, his hands trying to find purchase on the polished wood below him, and he let out another whining keen because he wanted Jason to save him. 

His brother’s growl impossibly deepened, becoming heart-stoppingly dangerous. Tim had never heard a more comforting sound. He wanted Jason to come here and take him away, to curl him under his chin and make everything safe again. 

Please, Jason, come.

“I told you to stay away from him, Luciferean.”

The smaller demon was crumpled on the other side of the room (had Jason thrown him?), but then stood in a single fluid motion. He stuck his chin up in defiance, spine as straight as a soldier.

“Todd, I have defeated this lesser demon in combat, and I wish to advance my place in the pack hierarchy.”

There was a long pause and then suddenly, Jason was laughing.

The sound was scary and full of menace. It was so deep and cutting that only an adult demon could have made it. The confidence in Damian’s stance cracked a bit.

“I told you if you put one foot out of line that I would break your pack bond,” Jason purred, stepping forward. Damian took an equal step back, his mouth falling open. “And this is more than a fucking step. I should have known never to trust you. You don’t deserve to be pack.”

The little demon flinched, his face spasming between keeping his stone face and melting into disbelief. “But, I, it was to impress you.”

“You thought torturing my little brother would impress me!” Jason yelled, everything in him was furious. Damian tried to take another step back, but he hit the wall. The little demon cowered away, and Tim could feel the fear coming off of him.

“That’s how,” Damian tried to defend himself, “That’s how you earn your place.” “No, it isn’t!” the oldest demon rose to his full height. “But it does make me reconsider your place to begin with.”

Damain’s eyes widened in horror as Jason began to say the words that chilled Tim to his core. They weren’t even directed at him, but they still spoke to Tim’s deepest fears. 

And apparently, Damian’s too if the pure horror on his face was anything to go by.

“Damian, as the Heart of the pack…”

Tim felt the bond between him and Damian sink into heart-breaking resignation and the hollow loneliness that Tim knew like the back of his hand. The loneliness was so sharp that felt like Tim’s own and he realised he couldn’t let this happen to pack.

“Jason,” he said, his voice quiet, until he repeated louder. “Jason.”

His older brother paused in his words, and glanced at Tim. His brother’s anger was still there, but underneath was that ever-present undercurrent of sibling protectiveness. 

“Don’t do it,” Tim commanded, shakily getting to his feet. His side was on fire and he grit his teeth through the flare up of pain. “Don’t cut his bonds.”

Jason startled, eyes blinking in disbelief. He looked the obviously injured Tim up and down, clearing not understanding why he would say that. “Tim, he hurt you. He manipulated his bonds against you.”

“I’m fine,” Tim isn’t, even though his shoulder screamed in protest. “I’ve had worse hits on patrol.”

Jason didn’t look convinced but he backed away from looming over Damian. He edged over to Tim and caught his face in his hands. Jason searched his eyes, fury gone and replaced with worry. 

The earnest expression on the feared vigilante almost made Tim chuckle. Figures, that his older brother would go straight into mother-henning mode. Dick was rubbing off on him.

“Are you sure?” Jason whispered.

Tim hummed and gave a reassuring little chirrup out of pure instinct. Huh, he hadn’t even realised he could make that sound. 

The noise seemed to relax something frantic in Jason, though, and his older brother rubbed his forehead against Tim’s.

“Alright, let’s go find Dickiebird and Alfred, so we can get you fixed up.” Jason began to motion around Tim, practically pushing him out the door. Tim rolling his eyes at the manhandling, but allowed his brother to fuss over him.

Before Jason could shove him out of the room, though, Tim looked back at the smaller demon. 

Damian was curled against the wall, staring at them in shock and disbelief, like he couldn’t even comprehend what he was seeing. He was crouched, partially obscured with shadows, and his eyes gleamed. Tim had the sneaking suspicion that it was because of unshed tears.

Tim felt the bond between them, weak, but definitely there. The kid was miserable and the emotions around him were a noxious mix of fear, disbelief and confusion. It made something inside Tim whine and want to bundle the kid up, even though he had literally just put a knife to his throat. 

When Damian saw Tim looking at him, his emotions immediately shut down, sealed away completely from Tim.

That didn’t matter, though, Tim saw the emotions shining through the kid’s teary eyes. 

“You stay here,” Jason barked to Damian, making the kid flinch back. “I’m coming back later to deal with you.”

When Tim looked up, he saw that Jason’s eyes were all demonic ire. A chill ran down his spine and he felt a fear for Jason that he hadn’t felt since Hood had cornered him in the Titans Tower.

He felt sorry for the small demon. 

He just hoped Jason would find it in himself to give the kid some mercy.

---

Check out the full story at https://archiveofourown.org/series/2151114

Cheers!

[sleepymccoy]

sleepy’s fic masterlist

Doing this cos I wanted to! And I can’t find the short things I’ve written on tumblr half the time, so i wanted a place to go to find them. I’ll edit this whenever I post something new and give it a quick reblog when I do <3

Tumblr shorts

Inventions and Ice-cream

A chererful conversation between Crowley and Aziraphale about their favourite invention humans have come up with. Also read for hand holding, ice-cream, and macking out against the Bentley door. Goes hard on the hand holding stuff

1600-ish words

What kind of lover are you?

Filled a prompt, wing grooming by South Downs. It turned into something very soft, very loving, with some acknowledgement of the aftereffects of trauma and constant threat and the anxiety that would be on you from that. Also, some nice massaging and snark from the main two. I feel like I’m getting a hug when I read this, thb

1200-ish words

Chamomille

Aziraphale notices Crowley getting tired and swings into action with a prepared bedtime routine. Crowley is not consulted. Very short and sweet

350-ish words

Monsieur and Difficult Topics

Crowley and Aziraphale are having a meal together after the apocalypse. Crowley says they're not friends and a very challenging conversation follows as Aziraphale tries to correct this. This is a pre romance thing, so they finish having had a worthwhile conversation, not leaping into dating

2000-ish words

Burnt Coffee and Crosswords

Crowley stumbles out of bed and finds that Aziraphale has, yet again, snuck into his flat while he was asleep. Fluff and fondness ensue

1000-ish words

Absolutely Adorably Nauseating

Outsider POV of Aziraphale and Crowley having very dramatic public fights. Three different stories. Mainly meant to be funny, but has some nice fluff in it

2000-ish words

How can someone as clever as you be so handsome?

Aziraphale remembers Crowley calling him clever in an angry moment and fondly teases him for it. Very fluffy.

1000-ish words

Gifts

Through the years Crowley has been giving Aziraphale gifts that are, overwhelmingly, in poor taste. Fluffy and silly, has pictures

2000-ish words

An Unpleasant Suprise

A butteromens effort. The similar fics were Aziraphale saving Crowley from Gabriel, I wanted to do a twist that had Crowley more engaged in the fight. Turns into an awful lot of flirting and the like at the end, it’s a fun read. Quick warning for a brief decrip of gore from being burnt, but I move on pretty fast

3500-ish words

A New Eden

Filled a prompt; “I’m going to need you to put some underwear on before you say anything else.” It’s not sexy, but by the virtue of the prompt there is dick. Mostly speechless Crowley, though.

1200-ish words

Entirely Unapologetic

Filled a prompt; “so why did I have to punch that guy?” Features protective Crowley and blustering Aziraphale

500-ish words

Be Unashamed With Me

Crowley’s waiting for Aziraphale to leave a church and as he waits he gets a bit sad about his demon-hood and remembers how hopeless he was before he and Aziraphale got together. When Aziraphale joins him a lot of fluff and compliments follow to cheer Crowley up. Which works. Gets a bit flirty.

1500-ish words

Climb Every Mountain

In the biblical narrative, God tells Abraham to sacrifice his son, Isaac, on Moriah. Abraham begins to comply, when a messenger from God interrupts him. Abraham then sees a ram and sacrifices it instead. In the me narrative, Crowley does a favour for Aziraphale then swiftly changes his mind and doesn’t let the kid be killed.

1200-ish words

How Many Ways Can I Say...

A very short form fic, more a casual tumblr post, but it has some cute descriptions of different ways Aziraphale can sat I love you to Crowley

500-ish words

AO3 links

If You Like

link to tumblr promo post

link to some relevant art

a take on the few days between apocalypse and the body switch, cos Aziraphale goes from surprised at Crowley offering to let him crash at his apartment, to swapping bodies and letting Crowley risk himself. So it’s following Aziraphale’s trauma and consideration. Lots of bed sharing and a very fluffy body-positivity ending with Aziraphale’s golden stretch marks.

10,000-ish words

Nothing’s Changed

link to tumblr promo post

A week into July and Crowley has finished sleeping in. He gives Aziraphale a ring and receives a very frosty reception. Although Aziraphale insists nothing has changed, Crowley suspects otherwise. Fic includes Aziraphale pinching Crowley to prove he’s not dreaming

2000-ish words

Slipped My Mind

link to tumblr promo post

Crowley and Aziraphale are so used to not being in a relationship that its quite easy to slip into old habits and forget that they’re allowed to touch now. A bit of angst, but mostly fluffy as they get used to this new normal.

6000-ish words

Requisite Lockdown Fic

link to tumblr promo post

This was actually a tumblr short fic I wrote, but it got crazy out of hand and the format is much easier on ao3 so I’m linking it here. Told entirely through phone calls in the same format as the lockdown youtube special. Crowley is setting boundaries for the first time and Aziraphale is struggling to adjust to these new rules. But it goes well

4000-ish words

To Seduce, Beguile, and Entice

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Crowley isn’t any good at seduction temptations. This comes up one night and Aziraphale is concerned because he’s seduced in Crowley’s name before. All part of the Arrangement. So, of course, the only solution is for Aziraphale to teach Crowley how to seduce. It gets out of hand quickly. The last chapter is post apocalypse and Crowley tries his hand at seducing Aziraphale in a very intentionally referential way, as a kind of method to express that he’s actually interested in a relationship.

10,000-ish words

Still Waking Up

link to some relevant art

link to tumblr promo post

Follows the pair for about two years after the apocalypse as Crowley is behaving oddly and Aziraphale is figuring everything out. This is your trauma recovery fic! Crowley has nightmares and a fear of fire and some abandonment. Aziraphale is lonely and feels deeply incompetent and lost, as well as having not fully resolved some of his issues with Heaven. They learn how to be on their own side together rather than keeping it all separate and protective. Also, bed sharing.

30,000-ish words

Not Quite Human

link to tumblr promo post

Omnipotent POV (but not god) that sorta swaps between them. It’s just a simple 18 hours or so in the shop on afternoon as they’ve begun to get more physically affectionate. This is a decent mutual pining fic. I tried to lean into the real not-human stuff they’ve both got going on. It’s your classic admission of love fic with plenty of panicking Crowley. Features some smut with a sex-positive, asexual Aziraphale and a sex-neutral, demisexual Crowley.

10,000-ish words

the kind of thing one says easily

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This is my silly take on an au. Everything is exactly the same but they actually communicate honestly occasionally. Wild, I know. We follow Crowley and Aziraphale through moments of time in their history (some canon friendly, like follow ons from scenes in the tv show, some made up) as Crowley quite simply tells Aziraphale that he loves him. And Aziraphale gets used to it and learns to be honest in return. Things really come to a head as the apocalypse approaches. The last chapter is a sex scene, but it’s very very loving rather than smutty.

15,000-ish words

Soft.

link to tumblr promo post

This is a very fluffy fic. Crowley tells Aziraphale he has a nice body and it dredges up Aziraphale’s residual concerns over what Gabriel said and in the panic-fueled conversation that follows as Crowley tries to right his wrong they slowly step in sync into discussing their feelings and wants. This fic is the big three, communication, consent, and soft. (gets a bit sexy too, but it’s pretty tame)

10,000-ish words

Is It Worth It Yet

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Around abouts the 1000AD mark, in what would become Turkey a few hundred years later, Crowley sat down, took a breath, and told Aziraphale how he feels in a total trainwreck of a conversation. Chapter 1, that conversation. Of course, Aziraphale would then expect Crowley to bring it all up again after the apocalypse, and when he doesn't he decides to take matters into his own hands and broach the topic himself. It doesn't go as well as he'd hoped. Good ending tho, don't worry guys. If you need an overload of angst then a big old hug to pull you up again, this is a good one.

10,000-ish words

Summoned

link to relevant (lemon) art

link to tumblr promo post

Post apocalypse, timeline unspecified. Heaven and Hell refangle the way humans summonings work so it only applies to Aziraphale and Crowley. This means Crowley finds himself summoned an awful lot more than usual. We see their relationship readjust after the apocalypse in snippets of moments as Crowley’s been summoned. It’s mostly fairly light hearted, but there’s a couple chapters of pretty good angst and one very sexy chapter at the end! Just straight up smut, of the light d/s variety

13,000-ish words

Try Some Pride On For A Day

link to some relevant art

link to tumblr promo post

Shortly after the apocalypse, Aziraphale set a challenge down. Sin vs virtue. Each chapter shows an attempt from Crowley to get Aziraphale to succumb to sin, and Aziraphale tricking Crowley into performing a virtue. Some attempts are easier than others, some are impossible. They learn a lot about each other and slip into some unexpectedly honest moments. This one gets sexy but not out of hand. Aziraphale is pretty explicitly asexual.

20,000-ish words

Needed a break, gone to France x

link to tumblr promo post

A few weeks after the apocalypse and Crowley goes to visit Aziraphale to find a note taped to his door. Panic, anxiety, and general sadness over being so broken up with ensue. This is a miscommunication fic with a writing style that leans toward humour rather than angst and has a nice fluffy ending with good asexual overtones

9000-ish words

Heresy

link to tumblr promo post

Set 3000 years after the apocalypse. Crowley and Aziraphale live together and are romantic. They have been left not entirely alone by their old colleagues, but they are unthreatened so it’s all okay. Until one day Beelzebub and Gabriel drop by to visit in the most surprising way. This fic is my first and was written before the discussion of Beelzebubs pronouns kicked off, so I used the actresses pronouns (she/her) instead of they/them which I’ve used since when referring to Beelzebub

2500-ish words

[samwrights]

Between the Lines, pt II

Here is part two to @anianimol ‘s Ukai Breeding Kink request—literally 70% of this particular portion is smut. Please proceed with caution if you are uncomfortable with the following:

Warnings: language, nicotine and alcohol consumption, implied emotionally abusive relationship, breeding/impreg kink, dirty talk, rough sex, risky sex, road head, slight dub-con, praise, multiple smut scenes, 3rd person POV reader-insert—because the word ‘you’ just didn’t seem to fit.

“Trust me, this car ride is torture enough.”

“I could make it worse.” Ukai Keishin did not like the sound of that in the slightest. He was already going well over the speed limit on the freeway and praying to the gods above that he wouldn’t get pulled over and—

The widespread panic that was bleeding into his veins stopped entirely when he feels the button to his jeans being freed.

“Are you insane?!” The blonde snarls, though he cannot deny the fact that his lust is now at full speed ahead with a brick on the gas pedal. [name] says nothing in response—only teases him further by unzipping his pants and running her fingernails over his boxer-clad half-hard cock while he’s fighting to focus on getting back home. Keishin squeezes the steering wheel with both hands tightly, the skin over his knuckles turning white as she frees his length only to re-capture it in her mouth. The warmth welcomes him entirely, sweetly, and it’s sending his mind into a lust-laden frenzy.

As soon as the two of them exit the freeway, they’re stopped at a light. Ukai takes the opportunity to adjust his jeans to give [name] more room to work because there was absolutely no fighting this now. Not with the way her hand is wrapped around the base of cock just to hold it upright while she swallows the entirety of his length and girth. At this point, she’s literally praising it, worshipping even, with her attentive tongue; lapping at every centimeter of skin, laving at the prominent veins, suckling on the tip to coerce his pre-cum.

“Ah, fuck,” Ukai hisses when his tip hits the back of her throat. They were almost back to his apartment above the Sakanoshita store—he could hold on for just five more minutes. He hoped. Though it was proving difficult with pleased gargles rumbling in her throat as she repeatedly swallowed every goddamn inch of his dick. Keishin can’t help but breathe heavy, trying to make sure he’s keeping oxygen going to his brain because fuck he can’t think straight right now. Not with the way this angelic creature had been taking him whole. It’s taking everything in him to not thrust his hips to meet with her lips, because he knows once he starts, he’s going to accidentally end up slamming on the gas pedal. Literally. “Shit, I’m gonna cum.”

“Good thing I’m thirsty,” [name] responds, hardly missing a beat as she pulls away briefly to supply her sassy remark. Immediately returning to the task at hand, she relaxes her throat walls to relentlessly swallow every single inch until her face is pressing into his stomach and she chokes down his seed. For some reason, it doesn’t surprise him in the slightest when she greedily swallows every drop while simultaneously coercing the rest from his tip. It does funny things to Keishin, seeing this beautiful ray of sunlight so hungry, so desperate for him, and it turns on all the switches to his filthiest desires.

“Open your mouth princess,” he croons, affectionately rubbing at her messy locks, “I wanna make sure you swallowed all of it.” [name] sticks out her puffy tongue, saying ‘ahh’ for emphasis, while he looks down for a hasty inspection. “Good girl,” he offers almost endearingly when she passes.

The second he pulls in to his drive way, Ukai threads his calloused fingers into her locks and pulls her lips desperately to his to taste the mix of them on her tongue. Despite the unsavory act, he gives her an enthusiastic kiss with one hand cupping her cheek and constant back and forth spit swapping because, damn it all, she made him feel things he thought long died. Desperation, depravity, desire—all of those feelings were reignited in Ukai and it was all her fault. But he doesn’t care that there’s more than sexual tension in their motions—he wants it that way. Their kiss rather sweet, loving even, as if to tell her this was more than lust and that he hoped [name] felt that too.

Or as if to act as a premature apology for the things he was going to do to her.

The week of unintentional teasing certainly served its purpose, [name] mused somewhere between the lines. It had worked out better than she’d ever dreamed of, and those were often recurring wet dreams, no less.

She had always pictured Keishin to be a rough lover but she’d never expected him to be as filthy as this. The bare man behind her had her face pressing into a pillow as he rammed into her sensitive hole, unabashedly howling his own salacious fantasies. There was not a single curse word in any collective lexicon that hadn’t left his mouth tonight and goddammit it was the sexiest thing she’d ever heard.

“Oh, fuck yeah, you’re taking me so well kid,” he grits out, giving a particularly hard thrust because he wants to keep hearing her scream every time his dick drags along her walls, “this everything you’ve been dreaming about, kid? Been dreaming about my fucking cock stuffing your pussy?”

The dirty talk sends electrical pulses from her ears down [name]’s spine—who knew that words alone could bring her so close to orgasm? But she can’t find words of her own at the moment. The only comprehensible sounds coming to her mind are throaty moans and pants and weak screams as Keishin grabs her by the wrists to force her hips to meet with his. But it’s not enough that he’s all but reaming her, no. He yanks her back even further until her chest is sticking out and her head is thrown back unintentionally to look up at him as he pounds her.

She’s beautiful, he muses internally, even with her eyes nearly shut in depravity and drool running down the corner of her mouth and repeated, mindless babble of approval of the way he was fucking her. She was so goddamn beautiful and he was going to make her his in every sense of the word.

Overwhelmed with the sight, Keishin adjusts his grip so that one of his hands holds her in place while the other cups her jaw and gingerly brings her closer to kiss her.

He loves kissing her, he learned rather quickly.

Even the smallest shift in their position cause Ukai to prod at different spot within her core, forcing [name] to clamp down on his length. “Ooh, right there, baby?” But she can only nod when he makes it a point to make sure he’s hitting that same area over and over. “Yeah? You’re squeezing me so fucking hard, you’re gonna make me cum. You want my cum, princess?”

Good god, [name] could just listen to him talk and she could get off.

She can’t help her clenching core, not with the way Keishin is smacking his hips into hers like a piston or the way his cock starts twitching as he falls over the dam of his own orgasm. “Oh fuck yeah, princess. Take my cum like a good girl, baby, fuck.” His words stifle and give way to his labored breathing until he physically can’t even let out a sound—a telltale sign that he should probably slow down before he passes out.

[name] collapses chest down onto the bed as soon as Ukai lets go of her wrists; her back rising and falling as she attempts to catch her own breath. Ukai is doing much of the same, though he’s sitting on his haunches while staring out the window as the morning sun filters in. What time was it anyway?

As soon as he feels like his legs aren’t numb anymore, he hovers over the side of the bed in search of his cell phone before moving to rest his back against his headboard—it was only seven right now, meaning the store wouldn’t open for another two hours. Momentarily Ukai is grateful it’s as early as it is because that means his mother wasn’t downstairs listening to him essentially impregnate someone. But even more so, he’s grateful to see the way the rising sun reflects the sheen of sweat on [name]’s back. It made her glow even more than the glitter she wore on her cheeks when she was out for the night or disco lights shining off her pearly whites.

She’s so fucking beautiful, he thinks again, and he doesn’t realize he’s staring at her until he deciphers the [eye color]ed orbs staring back at him. A part of her wants to say something, probably the reason she was opening and closing her mouth, but words just don’t come out. What would she even say if she had a voice right now? She can’t say she loves him because that’s just weird and too clingy, nor can she say thank you because that’s even weirder—

“C’mere.” Ukai murmurs softly, patting at his bare chest. [name] quirks a brow, which prompts the former to give a roll of his honey brown eyes, before reaching for one of her wrists and hoisting her up to rest on him. When her head nestles along his collar bone, he wraps one arm tightly around her waist and presses a chaste kiss into her sweaty hair. It’s a delicate, wholesome moment that Ukai thought he’d never get the chance to share with anyone for awhile, let alone with a club patron or an ex of one of his club members.

It’s a tender, loving moment in which he takes advantage of the opportunity to ask the questions that had been gnawing at him for the last several days.

“Cardboard Swords,” he says as gently and as firmly as he’s holding her.

“Huh?”

“I wanted to ask you earlier, but it kinda didn’t seem appropriate at the time.” It’s not a full question by any means, but she understands the syntax well enough.

“And you think after emptying a second load in me is more appropriate?” She jokes, causing the man that’s holding her to groan because he knows. He doesn’t fall for bullshit and he knows that question was just [name] deflecting. “Fine, fine. Um, Flannel was mine and Suga’s break up song. I figured you could tell that much.” She concedes temporarily, shifting uncomfortably in his arms. Why does he even want to know this, she wonders. But she remembers clear as day him asking what Sugawara did to make her be the dull person she was back in high school, versus the firecracker on the Fourth of July that she was now. She figured she at least owed him some form of reprieve considering he satiated her high school and current fantasies.

Well, one of them anyway.

And while she remained quiet, Keishin’s analytical mind is hard at work recounting the memory of her lips moving along to every line. The thing that the DJ loves the most about music is that he can tell when a beat or a line hits close to home by how loud their expression is. His mind starts piecing things together based off of context and evidence and [name] can tell by the way his breathing begins to quicken that he just might be onto something.

“It’s fine. We went our separate ways after graduating. He did his thing, I did my thing.” She says to quell his steadily rising anxiety. Though she was unsure why it was beginning to crest, considering he hadn’t vocalized his personal deductions. Part of her wondered if he got it right, part of her doesn’t even care because Sugawara doesn’t matter to her anymore.

“And your thing is hanging out at a dingy club every night?”

“Hey, don’t call my aunt’s club dingy.”

“Your what?! Family friend, my ass!” This girl was going to be the death of him, he decides. Because now it made so much more sense of how she vaguely knew of his schedule (not that it was necessarily damning evidence), or why she was there in the first place and as often, or why she knew where Bevelle lived off the back of her hand. But shit, that just means he slept with his boss’s niece who is eight years his junior and—

“Dude, relax,” [name] stresses the command, pinching the nipple closest to her to pull Ukai from his reverie. “How do you think you got the job in the first place, coach? Though, aunt ‘Velle only showed me your application—she made the initial decision to offer you the job. I didn’t realize it was you that took the name Spira.” His mind is piecing more things together and he’s starting to learn to hate that his mind does that.

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Hey, I didn’t know you were gonna fuck me—“ Ukai lets out a noise, a hybrid noise between annoyance and embarrassment before rolling over to trap [name] between his bed and himself. He doesn’t want to talk about this anymore, doesn’t want to think about it because the more he does, the deeper hole he digs for himself.

“I’d do it again, too. If you’ll let me.” Regardless of the strange sense of shame and irritation he felt, Keishin’s voice came out rather soft. Probably because he knew were it not for [name]’s meddling and the string of circumstances, she wouldn’t be here with him right now. In a weird sense, he’s grateful—grateful for the way she answers with her arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him flush against her, bringing his lips to hers once again.

“Will you, though?” She asks after they break for a breather. [name] can’t help the question from leaving her lungs as much as she doesn’t want to think about what comes after this. And Keishin understands the query that’s hidden in between the lines and he’s unsure if he’s ready to verbalize his answer. So rather than putting it into words, his lips cover hers once again.

It’s much sweeter than the others—it’s gingerly and warm, softer than powdered sugar, and for a moment the two of them are enveloped in their moment together. But it’s not enough for Ukai, not in the slightest. Not with the way he’s overwhelmed with the need to chase this profound sense of urgency to stake his claim.

It’s not enough even with his mouth meandering further down her jaw and her neck, leaving little bites and bruises in his wake. It’s not enough in the way his tongue parts her labia and massages the inner walls of her core or suckles down her clit until she’s screaming once again. It’s not enough even when he slides his dick in one more time and is welcomed with the warmth of home.

Ukai is torn with the dichotomy of wanting to be rough with [name], wanting to smack his hips and drive his cock far enough in her that she has bruises around her opening and on her uterus, and absolutely letting every truth fly off his tongue. But his body decides for him in the way he lurches over her bucking body, one hand cradling her jaw with his thumb brushing over her bruised lips.

“Keishin...” [name] calls out in a strangled song, “h-harder, please!”

Her cries break his final thread of sanity.

“Yeah, you want more princess?” He grits out. His free hand traces patterns down her stomach before honing in on her clit, frantically circling at the bundle of nerves and driving his length in her cunt to match. [name] gave an innate squeeze at the sudden added stimulation, ready for her orgasm to wash over her once again. “You’re squeezing me so fucking good, baby. You want my cum?”

“P-please, cum inside me.” The subtle pleas shred every fiber of his control. Keishin releases his grip on both her clit and her jaw, hands scooping under her hips to angle her upward to find her pressure point once again. Leave it to this guy to be able to find it with ease after only one trial run. “Oh fuck, Keishin!”

“Fuck yes, baby, you want my cum? Want me to fill you up again? You’re just begging me to fuck a baby into you, aren’t you?” [name] clenched with a death grip, her subconscious going into overload. She’d never admit out loud that she’d fantasized about marrying the DJ and having a family with him maybe once or twice. Or every other week. She’d take that secret to the grave.

And while Keishin didn’t necessarily mean for his words to come out the way they did, he found himself unbothered by it all. Because he wants to know more, wants to have more than this one night with [name]. It only made it a thousand times better knowing she was getting off to his private kink, swallowing his cock whole to coax his seed to spill. “Aw, fuck yeah, gonna breed you like my own little whore,” he grits out, hips stuttering as his dick twitches, spurting his cum within her walls once again.

“Fuck a baby into me, huh?” [name] laughs after Keishin collapses on top of her, panting heavily to catch his breath.

“Sorry, was that too much?” She only laughs once more in response.

“Nah, that was perfect.”

Perfect was the only way to describe the way Keishin felt about [name], even a year later after their first night together. Sex aside, because that was perfection in its own right, the relationship that had bloomed between the two of them was everything the coach had been waiting for. The envy he had once felt for his fellow DJs for seizing the opportunity to sleep with other club patrons had subsided entirely considering Ukai had gotten the creme de la creme.

[name] now owned the club.

Bevelle, her aunt and the woman that initially hired Keishin a few years back, had been prepping and grooming [name] since she graduated high school to take over her business so that Bevelle could move on to new ventures. The night she started learning the ins and outs of running the club was the very same night Ukai had come in as a guest with the neighborhood association.

Apparently offering him a job was supposed to be a joke, but Bevelle knew something was strange with the way her niece was hyper-fixated on the blonde volleyball coach. Nobody knew things were going to turn out as well as they did.

Ukai finally stopped tending to the farm after five years of dedication and, instead, began helping [name] at the club on nights he wasn’t Spira. It was a weird sense of pride that surged within his center to know that the two of them both had their own businesses and both were relatively successful—it made Ukai feel powerful.

Like it wasn’t entirely wrong that the two of them were together despite the eight year gap.

And, in their world, it wasn’t. [name], while she rarely showed it, suffered a lot of heartbreak during and after her relationship with Sugawara Koushi—one that left her with a lot of metaphorical scars that mentally aged her by at least five years. It took years for her to heal, to feel content in her solidarity, and that aged her even more. In a sense, however, these also drove her ambition to be successful, her true, fun-loving self, and to share the love she wished she had received back then.

It took a few months for Keishin to unearth just how badly Suga had hurt her. After hearing how manipulative he was of her and everyone around her, it was no wonder she made it a point to love loudly and overtly—something Ukai seemed to thrive off of. While their relationship may have appeared strange to those on the outside looking in, it was nobody’s business but theirs.

It was even more peculiar from an outsider perspective considering the couple had just welcomed their son barely three months ago. “You literally fucked a baby into me!” [name] had been a cross between flustered, angry, and overjoyed when she found out of her pregnancy. Keishin’s mind was a mile a minute when she told him, but he couldn’t deny the sense of pride and lust and desire he felt.

If anything, it only made those feelings worse—like he wanted to do it again and again because goddamn it, it meant that [name] was entirely his, carrying their baby and all. But she knew her partner well enough to know when Keishin got that dangerous, nearly predatory, glint in his honey brown eyes, he was aiming for kid number two. “Thank god I’m on birth control.” She often mutters between catching her breath whenever the mood struck the volleyball coach.

“So you don’t mind if I keep trying then, right?”

“Keishin, no—“

“Oh, so you don’t mind?”

“Keishin!”

Thank you all for bearing through this lengthy monstrosity! Again, I had a whole bunch of fun writing it.

[myblackeyedfire]

Pansy Division songs I wish were SPN music videos:

Life Lovers - Dean & Cas domestic endgame, brief shots of Crowley or Benny and Daphne or Meg but ultimately a toes in the sand, middle finger to their dads tribute to choosing each other and making the rules up as they go. 

Kevin - A look at Cas through the years as he learns about love, sex, pizza men and babysitters, and realizes he’s in love with Dean. Shots of him with Mandy and fearfully gulping down beer on his last night on earth, ignoring everyone calling him pretty or attractive, and ends with his love declaration to Dean. We're all in the dark / Because Kevin won't talk for ending with 15x18 or a happy reversal, warm light shining on Dean’s face as Cas calls him in 13x05. 

Kevin - Better yet, tribute video to Kevin Tran. 

Mistakes - A fuck you to every bad thing in the finale. Sam’s wig! Blurry wife! Killing Kansas the band for a concert! Vamp clowns! Etc. etc. 

It’s Just a Job -  Dean’s POV about Cas in Four Letter Word for Intercourse fanvid. 

Flower - Jacting joices. Dean POV or dual. Cue the clenched hand scene after Cas cleans up post-Purgatory. All the eyefucking. The Hays Code sex scenes. Lingering touches and Dean looking at Cas in Heaven Can’t Wait. Worth it just for Cas in Jimmy Novak’s vessel with the lines I just want your fresh young Jimmy / Sliding, slamming, ramming in me

Deep Water - Teen Dean and John Winchester’s A+ parenting. 

Some of My Best Friends - Dean tells him he has a family when John says he wishes Dean had a normal life in Lebanon. Stanford’s #1 Ally™ Sam sticks up for Dean, Cas, their found family with Jack (”I have more dads than most”) as well as Charlie, Rowena, Crowley, Max Banes, Claire & Kaia, etc. Tribute to the queer characters we know and love. Tribute to kicking John Winchester’s ass.   

Real Men - (Tori Amos or Joe Jackson would work, too) - 100% jender studies and a look at Dean’s complicated relationship with gender, bisexuality, and who he wants to be vs. who he thinks he should. 

Rock & Roll Queer Bar - finale denial at its finest, Deancas why lamp retired hunter endgame supremacy. Dean running Rocky’s Bar with Cas, the scene of them dancing together, and Sam with Eileen instead of Blurry Wife. 

Something Beautiful - All the times Cas died and Dean couldn’t cope. 

Sweet Insecurity - Realistic take on Dean after Chuck’s gone and he gets Cas back. Focused on his worries about who he is and what he wants to do next and how to make things work now that they’re not swinging from crisis to crisis. Cue bunker fluff, movie nights in the Dean Cave, and road trips once he’s done panicking or Cas reassures him they’ll work it out.   

Breaking the Law - Sam and Dean montage of committing felonies left and right. Just a fun clicky romp through them being criminals, grifters, and drifters. 

Dick of Death - I’m so sorry. Sam and every dead love interest. Has to be done. Couldn’t resist the low hanging fruit. 

[michelles-garden-of-evil]

Shadow Over Seventh Heaven Review, Part I: Last Night I Dreamt I Went to Maljardin Again

Once, April Tennant had been the greatest screen star of all. Even now that this stunning creature was gone, the victim of a hideous accident, her name still cast a magic glow. And nowhere was her haunting spell more alive than within her great walled estate of San Rafael.

It was here that April had lived in her storybook marriage with famed actor Richard Morgan. It was here that her memory was worshipped still. And it was here that lovely young Jenny Summers came as Richard Morgan's new bride--to discover the terror behind the tinsel in this place transformed from a paradise of the living to a hell of the undead.... (inside front cover)

Welcome, fellow Strangers and all others who happen upon this post. This week, I have decided to begin a new series exploring the Gothic novels written by co-creator and first headwriter of Strange Paradise, Ian Martin, under the pen name Joen Arliss. Mostly, the purpose of this series will be to compare the plot and characters of Strange Paradise and those of his novels and what that may indicate about his original intentions for the overarching story of the soap opera.

I got the idea to start this series while writing my review of Episode 26, after the contents of an article referenced in one of the scenes reminded me of the events in this book. On his now-defunct website Maljardin.com, Curt Ladnier covered some of the similarities between “Here Goes the Bride,” the CBS Radio Mystery Theater drama from which this book was adapted, and Strange Paradise, but I wanted to dive deeper and do one of my characteristic overanalyses. So fly with me to the grand southwestern estate of San Rafael and together let’s explore Shadow Over Seventh Heaven--and let me warn you, there will be spoilers for the entire Maljardin arc of SP.

As noted above, Shadow Over Seventh Heaven is an adaptation of a radio drama that Martin wrote for CBS Radio Mystery Theater. CBSRMT is, perhaps unquestionably, Ian Martin’s most famous work. Created by Himan Brown in 1974 and running for 1,399 nightly episodes, Martin wrote a total of 243 (including many adaptations of literary classics) and acted in 255, typically in supporting roles. He continued writing and acting on the series all the way until his death in 1981 at the age of 69. Given my tendency to procrastinate, which sometimes makes it difficult to write just one episode review a week even when I’m not busy, I envy him for being such a prolific writer. I suspect that all the soap scripts he wrote got him into the habit, and he just couldn’t break it.

Even more extraordinary is that he wrote and published five novels during the same period that he worked on CBSRMT. His first was Nightmare’s Nest (1979), an adaptation of the CBSRMT play “The Deathly White Man” (and not the other drama, also by him, of the same name), which is his answer to Jane Eyre and which also has some interesting connections with SP which I plan to explore in another review series. Next came this novel, and then Beloved Victim (1981), adapted from “A Lady Never Loses Her Head,” which I don’t recall having anything noteworthy in common with SP, but I may need to re-read it to make sure. He also wrote two mystery novels, The Shark Bait Affair and The Ladykiller Affair, for the Zebra Mystery Puzzler series, but those are both very rare now and I haven’t yet read either, so I can’t say anything about them. The book Mystery Women: An Encyclopedia of Leading Women Characters in Mystery Fiction does, however, provide some information on their protagonist, Kate Graham, along with short plot summaries. As someone with two trunk novels from the last decade and about fifty pages of a third--which I mostly stopped working on after I started this blog--I also envy him for this. How on Earth did he find the time?

But I digress. Like that of “Here Goes the Bride,” the plot of Shadow Over Seventh Heaven draws heavy inspiration from Daphne du Maurier’s famous Gothic romance Rebecca, but with some major differences in plot and characterization. The novel fleshes out the radio drama some more, adding additional details and plot twists that aren’t present in the original play, which arguably make it more interesting. One gets the impression that he had a lot of story in mind while he penned the original drama, but knew he could only squeeze so much into a 45-minute radio play and so had to leave many of the most interesting details out.

But that’s enough background information. Let’s begin our analysis and see what Ian Martin’s later work can tell us about his original intentions for Strange Paradise.

Introduction

The face is lovely, matchless....

Opening like some gigantic and exotic flower as the camera zooms in...

It fills the screen, flawless, enticing....

The lower lip glistens, pulled away from those perfect teeth, trembling ever so slightly, promising undreamed-of delights for the man brave enough to taste its forbidden fruit....

The skin glows with an inner light....

The eyes beyond the thick fringe of dark eyelashes shimmer with the deep violet of a tropical night....

The pitiless exposé of the camera is defeated, no matter how close it probes in close-up....

This is beauty without blemish....

This is everyman's dream woman--sex symbol of the nation, and most of the world....

This is April Tennant!

Strange to think of her dead, for on the screen she is captured forever in all her vibrancy and stunning beauty....

Impossible to think of her lying, mangled and bleeding on the rocks, while the hungry sea licks out as if to possess her.

Incredible to think of her cold and in the grave. Which she has been for twelve months--or this story never would have begun (p. 5).

The first page of the novel introduces us to April Tennant, this novel’s Rebecca and also its Erica Desmond. Like Rebecca, she is the first wife of the protagonist’s love interest, whose tragic death will cast a shadow over her former estate. Like Erica, she was a famous actress--probably more so than Erica ever was--but the cause of her death is not the same as the alleged cause of Erica’s. In Episode 5 of Strange Paradise, Erica’s grieving husband Jean Paul claims that she died of eclampsia while pregnant with their son, although evidence uncovered by other characters in later episodes leads them to contest that claim. Instead, April’s death resembles that of Huaco, the wife of Jean Paul’s ancestor Jacques Eloi des Mondes who died when she fell from a cliff on Maljardin, Jacques’ island estate.

In this introduction, we also see what will become a theme of the novel: gaze. Not just the male gaze--the obvious POV of the introduction--but, more generally, the viewing of April Tennant almost exclusively through the eyes of other characters, both male and female. We never learn much about her inner life, even as we learn those of Jenny (our protagonist), Richard, and others. April is largely a mystery, a larger-than-life figure of ideal beauty who, in the eyes of the public, is more a legend than she is flesh and blood. It’s the same mystique that surrounds celebrities in real life that often makes other people forget that they, too, are human--if, indeed, that’s what April was. Or is there more to it? I guess we’ll have to find it.

Chapter 1

The first chapter begins with a detailed description of San Rafael--and by detailed, I mean that Ian Martin spends one and a half pages describing its wall, followed by two on the mansion itself. I won’t type out too many passages from this book for copyright reasons--for, unlike Strange Paradise, this book is still under copyright--but I will include some highlights. The wall surrounding the castle “was thick enough at the bottom to withstand any tremor of the California earth...topped by a corona of jagged broken glass and it ran for a mile and three-quarters in a great semicircle away from the rocky Pacific coast and back to it again” (p. 6). On its gate,

The ironwork swept and swirled in great balanced curlicues, and the frame was heavy and studded. The studs held great sheets of blackened steel, heavy enough to withstand a battering ram, blocking any vision of the grounds the wall concealed. And the vertical members of the scrollwork reared high above the frame of the door and the top of the wall in a bristling array of spikes, sharp as swords, arched forward to further discourage any hardy trespasser who might try to climb their height (pp. 6-7).

In case you haven’t already figured it out, Martin loved his purple prose. If you don’t like Byzantine descriptions of architecture, ironwork, clothing, or anything else, you probably shouldn’t read this book or any of Martin’s other novels. (Nightmare’s Nest is far purpler, however, than this one. There’s an entire chapter in there devoted to describing the protagonist’s lush Edwardian finery.) Fortunately for me, I love this kind of thing and will gladly devour description after description of gates covered in iron curlicues. My literary tastes tend toward “more is more” and I’m not ashamed to admit it.

We learn that San Rafael is a reconstruction of an old Spanish mission, commissioned by April and built in part by Richard himself, “who personally took charge of putting in all the glass that fronted on the sea.” The gardens that surround it give it “a riot of color--bougainvillea, hibiscus, passionflowers, trumpet vines--all enhanced and set off against the majesty of rows of carefully spaced Italian cedar, or Lombardy poplar” (pp. 7-8).

Despite all this radiant beauty--and as one might expect for reconstructed ruins from the era of Spanish colonialism--the estate is believed to be cursed, at least by “the superstitious peons who built the walls” (p. 9).  (That’s what the book uncharitably describes the Mexican builders--some parts of this book haven’t aged well, as you will see.) Two men died while rebuilding it, followed by April herself around a decade later.

Surprisingly, we learn at the end of this chapter that Richard Morgan’s background differs from that of Jean Paul Desmond. An actor himself, he “was king of the theater, and of East Coast entertainment. Their marriage was a royal one, and it vaulted both of them to new and undreamed-of heights of popularity” (pp. 9-10). It was this popularity that drove them to wall themselves in at San Rafael and use the police and guard dogs to keep rabid fans and paparazzi away--which, ultimately, didn’t work and only led to “a new wave of interest and snooping” (p. 10).

Chapter 2

Here we meet Richard’s sister Lisa, who is...well...quite an interesting character. She’s a beautiful woman with short hair, a deep voice, and--most importantly--an unusual, creepy level of attachment to her brother.

Cersei Lannister Lisa Morgan.

Lisa has just received a phone call from the Philippines where her brother is. The call has left her “literally stunned” (p. 11), which means that the modern slang meaning of “literally” dates back 30+ years longer than I thought. Surprisingly, she isn’t drinking wine to calm her nerves like Cersei above, but that’s her loss.

As she gazes at the ocean to the west, her housekeeper, Conchita Aguilar,  enters. Chita (as she is usually called) has not just worked as April’s housekeeper for most of her life, but also "she and her husband, Juan, had quite literally brought up April” (p. 13); as a result, she is fiercely loyal to the family of her deceased mistress. Here is a portrait of her:

Looking at the tiny woman with her bright button eyes, the black Indian hair swept stiffly away from her face, parted in the middle and tidily put away in a tight bun low on the back of her neck, Lisa was surprised at the sudden urge to go and take this familiar person in her arms--or better still have Chita take her in hers.[...]Chita might be tiny, but she was all steel and whipcord (p. 13).

Sound familiar?

Yes, Chita bears a resemblance to our beloved Raxl. They even have a similar background, for Raxl, too, comes from a people indigenous to Mexico, according to Episode 23.  Like Raxl, Chita is very old and has a mysterious magnetism that draws some people to her (which, in Raxl’s case, includes me). There are some minor differences--Chita doesn’t worship the Great Serpent, she uses gratuitous Spanish instead of gratuitous French, she has a living husband and grandson--but they are, in most ways, the same character. It’s clear that Ian Martin didn’t want to part with Raxl, and I don’t blame him one bit.

Also, for whatever reason, he was oddly insistent on both of them having a specific hairstyle. If you read the original script for the show’s pilot, you will see that he was almost as specific about Raxl’s hairstyle, mentioning “her hair tightly drawn over her ears to a small bun,” but less detailed about those of the other characters. Just an odd detail that probably bears little significance, but that I noticed.

Lisa tells Chita that Richard is on his way home with a new wife, a young, very wealthy orphan named Jenny Summers whom he met in the Philippines. This angers the ancient housekeeper, who argues that Jenny can never come to San Rafael

Because there is no place for her here--en la casa de La Señora! Everything here is hers--she still lives here, and will always live here. Her perfume is in every room, her pictures are everywhere, every ornament and ashtray and book I keep just the way she last touched it. There is no room for any other wife here! Oh, she will feel it, she will know it, because La Señora would never permit another woman to take her place (p. 16)!

Lisa insists that, despite the risk that Jenny won’t want to live on the estate and despite her equal displeasure about the situation, Chita keep an open mind regarding her and try not to be such a Mrs. Danvers about the situation. (OK, so she doesn’t actually say the last part; that’s just my paraphrase.) She also tries to pressure Chita into helping her take down the mementos of April at Richard’s orders, which she objects to, both for sentimental reasons and because they don’t have time to have the enormous fresco of April that adorns the former chapel. (Symbolism!)

“It was a breathless and yet terrible beauty. For any woman who stood next to it had to be eclipsed” (p. 20).

Yes, you read that right: they rededicated the mission’s former chapel to the silver screen sex goddess April Tennant. After their wedding, Richard had a giant fresco of her painted there in place of its former altar. This is a clear indication that one or more of the people in this household worship April, whether literally or figuratively. More than that, the portrait glows like that of THE DEVIL JACQUES ELOI DES MONDES, and seems, like Jacques’ portrait, to be alive, the living essence of a dead person. “Most haunting of all was the feeling that this was the woman--that she could not have died, that any moment she would step off the wall, and her silver laughter would fill the house again (p. 20).”

I’m sorry, Jacques. ;)

Coming up next: Jenny arrives at San Rafael and tries to adjust to living on an estate where almost everyone but Richard acts like they hate her.

{ Next: Part II -> }

[mayrubyy]

DAMAGE 💔 [M]

➻ Pairing - Reader x Chanyeol  

➻ Genre - Mafia!AU  | Status - Ongoing 🌊  

➻ Word Count - 7.3k |  ➻ Damage m.list

➻ Rating - (M) 

This contains mature content. 18+ only

(WARNINGS - mentions of gun violence, killings, explicit sex) 

Summary - Wild, reckless, nefarious– he had all the flaws to convince you he wasn’t the one. Yet, here you were completely drawn towards him even though you knew somewhere along the line that the damage could be fatal.

➻ Chapter One 

The sound of gunshots fill the thick evening air as two young men in skintight dark leather run through the dimly lit streets of Seoul in action. Sprinting through closed narrow paths– a block away from the busy roads of Incheon, they both stop for a moment. The taller of the two rests his back against the red-bricked wall of an apartment building.

“Fuck this! I’m bored,” spits Chanyeol as he firmly takes his position in a defensive mode holding the revolver. Sehun kneels closer taking aim at their target so they can finish business quickly.

“You know, what?” before Sehun says another word Chanyeol draws his revolver out shooting recklessly at the man sneaking towards them killing him instantly.

Quickly in synchronized reflex Chanyeol ducks dodging bullets and aims back at another man just a few feet away shooting him right in the forehead and making him drop dead in a messy pool of blood. He mercilessly feeds another round of bullets into the already dead man lying at his feet. “Should have shot the fucker dead before we got here in the first place”. Chanyeol shrugs as he wipes the sweat off his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Hyung, that’s fourteen down for now. How many left until we wipe them all out?” Sehun stands up and starts walking out of the closed space towards the main street when suddenly a siren echoes loudly alarming the two that the police were patrolling the area. The two bolt out of the scene.

“Call, Baekhyun. He told me they had it under control,” Chanyeol demands as he fastens a strap of leather around his hand with his teeth. They hear someone screaming in the background. Someone probably discovered the mess they had just made. Heading out into the street they both descend into the crossing acting like nothing had happened.

Sehun starts making calls as the police drives past them rushing to the murder scene.“Yeah, it’s me. We took care of Area 94. Tell us where you are because we are fucking hungry and hyung is mad and I don’t–”. Chanyeol snatches the phone from Sehun's hand and yells through the device, “Baekhyun, you lying bastard you said there were only six of these motherfuckers?!”.

“We’re at Black Pearl. Minseok will feed you so stop acting like a brat and get your ass here if you’re that hungry.” Baekhyun disconnects.

“The fucking nerve of him,” Chanyeol curses almost thrashing Sehun’s phone to the ground. “Hey! hey-heyyy! Calm the heck down! There’s no need for that.” Sehun nervously pats Chanyeol’s back trying to comfort him, "give me my phone back, thank you”.

Chanyeol was pissed. He wasn’t just simply pissed. He was downright genuinely out of his mind fuming pissed.

Earlier today Baekhyun and Junmyeon had briefly explained that they got orders to wipe out a gang in Area 94. A meeting that ended on a bad note. Both the mafias turning backs on each other resulting in a baseless gunfight. There was no profit they could make off this fight which is why Baekhyun was clever enough to make Chanyeol do all the work. Only Taehyung was at advantage since the area belonged to him.

Their hideout was the Black Pearl cafe which belonged to Eunwoo’s father. Baekhyun and Junmyeon, who had agreed to work in alliance with other rivals to pursue their illegal business named their organization after the cafe just to keep things lowkey. The team was made of Chanyeol, Sehun, Minseok and Eunwoo.

Minseok worked at the cafe and updated Black Pearl on exchanging messages and attending the investors. Baekhyun and Junmyeon maintained diplomacy while Chanyeol and Sehun did the dirty work, extortion and the deed. Sometimes Baekhyun assisted in the killings, most times he just tricked Chanyeol.

And this time, Chanyeol was not having it.

“BYUN BAEKHYUN! YOU NASTY SON OF A BITCH!”. Chanyeol rams into the cafe and grabs Baekhyun by his collar and knocks him to the floor and starts punching the blue out of him. Baekhyun doesn’t do much to defend himself instead he starts snickering allowing Chanyeol to knock the life out of him even more.

“Ew, don’t do that.” Chanyeol stops punching him the moment he sees a smirk form on Baekhyun's face. “Jesus fucking christ. You’re such a fucking creep”.

“Well, did you have fun?” Baekhyun giggles, “weren't you hungry or something?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Chanyeol jostles Baekhyun away from him when his eyes suddenly meet a girl much younger than him holding a first aid kit. He falters for a good second or two. “Baekhyun, you okay?” the girl avoids Chanyeol and walks closer to the short one taking a gauze out of the kit and starts helping him, tending to the small cut as she wipes the blood off his mouth. 

“Y/N! You’ll be my first aid fairy from now on!”. 

“Meet Chanyeol, he just loves wrecking me,” Baekhyun chuckles.

Chanyeol wavers again, unable to process what he had just heard. “You’re new here or what?” he spurts mindlessly. “She is! She’s going to be around”. Baekhyun starts wobbling. “So you better behave around ladies, Loey,” 

“Loey?” Y/N looks at Baekhyun in confusion. Chanyeol just glares back into her eyes. 

“Nobody...calls me Loey”. 

“And, don’t just stand there gawking at me. Chanyeol forms a thin line with his lips. "Go get me some Iced Americano, woman”.

She gets baffled by his tone, “um, wow, you’re rude for someone who’s got a baby face”. She sneers at him and begins to walk away. “You forgot your first aid kit Baekhyun’s stupid fairy,” Chanyeol rolls his eyes.

“Excuse me?”. Y/N pauses and turns around. “Yeah, got a problem?” Chanyeol storms towards to her with a deadpan expression on his face. “You think you look intimidating, huh?”. She glares back at him.

“A waitress shouldn’t be so impolite…you could get fired,” Chanyeol smirks as he scoffs. 

“Well, I can be if you’re being a jerk,” she starts fuming up. 

“Okay throw me out then. We’ll see how you do that,” Chanyeol starts chuckling.

“You’re messing with the wrong person big guy.” Y/N balls up her fists preparing herself to kick him in the groin.

“Feisty, eh? I like that a lot.” Chanyeol smirks again as he spreads his arms inviting her, “I can do this all night long baby”.

“That’s enough, you guys,” Minseok interrupts the two. “Y/N, go get the Iced Americano, please,” he smiles.“And Chanyeol, we got matters to discuss". 

"They’re pretty serious”.

“Alright, I’m leaving but just let Mr. Big Ears L-O-E-Y know that he can’t be walking around the cafe being a jerk to everyone.” She mocks Chanyeol as she starts to leave.

“Hey, you can’t just call me Loey and leave,” Chanyeol shouts backs tightening the strap of leather around his wrist. “Chanyeol, you need to read this.” Minseok hands him a document. “What the fuck is this supposed to mean?”. Chanyeol spits as he goes through the document. “Jongdae?” they both pause as they take the name. Junmyeon joins the two at the table as they exchange stern looks with one another.

“This is going to be tricky,” Chanyeol drags his chair away from the table and gets up to take his leather jacket off revealing the deep cut on his wrist he got from tonight. He walks to the large window, his eyes following the trail of the vehicles passing by when Y/N arrives back at their table with his order.

“Here’s your Iced Americano,” she sticks her tongue out at Chanyeol. His back still facing her. “You do realize that I can see you in the reflection?”. Chanyeol turns around biting his lip. “Whatever, baby face”. She taunts him and heads back to the counter.

“How do you plan on dealing with this?” Junmyeon firmly asks Chanyeol. “Just leave it to me,” Chanyeol affirms as he sits down and takes a good long sip of his Iced Americano. He runs his fingers through the deep cut wound on his wrist and continues to stare at Y/N standing at the other end of the cafe by the counter.

“But, first…I think I might need some first aid,” he takes another sip.

Y/N’s POV 

Considering it was your first week working at Black Pearl you hadn’t expected someone to punch the life out of Baekhyun. That too right in front of you. Almost to the point where he started bleeding. All you could think of was who this tall guy was and why he was so full of rage. His face was a flushing red and he kept fidgeting with a strap of leather so much that it started bothering you.

“What’s his problem?” you mumbled quietly to Baekhyun who was standing next to you all the while Chanyeol kept staring at you as he sipped his drink. “He’s just mad he didn’t get laid in a while”. Baekhyun snorts as he helps you with the remaining orders.

“Well, I hope his rude ass never gets laid,” you snicker as you set the plates down. “Did the bleeding stop?” you turn towards Baekhyun with concern. He just smiles and pats your head, “oh yeah! don’t worry. It wasn’t that bad." Suddenly you hear a loud thud on the counter. 

“Hey you, first aid fairy!” Chanyeol knocks the wood to get your attention. “Help another bleeding guy out, yeah?”. He raises his wrist showing the wound to you. 

“That’s really deep! what the fuck?!” you blurt as you observe the wound. You immediately grab for the first aid box. “Take a seat at the table in that corner. I’ll dress it for you” you tell him in a low voice. 

He simply heeds your words and proceeds to go and sit down never taking his eyes off you. As you approach him you get on your knees and take his wrist into your hands. His cologne emanates strongly given the proximity you two had at this moment. You see an L-1485 tattoo a few inches away from the cut. You gently wipe the wound with a disinfectant. He hisses as you apply pressure. You mumble a sorry as you fasten the gauze around it.

“Is it tight enough?” you ask him. “It’s perfectly tight, baby,” he grins at you. “Geez. You’re fucking nasty!” you throw his wrist away making him hiss in pain. “You’re so goddamn feisty! I love it!” he starts cackling throwing his legs into the air. You weren’t going to deny that he looked hot and maybe even a little cute. He was well built and well toned. The minute he called you baby as much as you hated it you also couldn’t deny that you kinda liked it but you decided you weren’t going to be so easy with him.

“Get the fuck out of here before I actually throw you out,” you warn him. “But I’m not done with you yet". He follows you back to the counter. You find him pouting with his head resting between his palms as he supports himself with his elbows against the platform. 

“What the fuck do you even want from me?” you sigh heavily. He hands you a note with a number written on it.

“Call me baby,” he murmurs in his deep voice.

Of course you weren’t going to call him. You weren’t even sure if he was deliberately playing you or if he was actually flirting with you. Your gut highly warned you it was a booty call. You didn’t really mind it though. He was good looking and probably had his dick sculpted by the gods to make women squirm in pleasure and you were very much up for it. 

You fiddled with the piece of paper he had given to you. It was filled with the scent of his cologne. You liked it. And, the fact that he called you feisty you couldn’t argue that you were enjoying all the attention he was giving to you. He was attractive and his whole personality was screaming fuckboy, what more could you want.

It was Friday night and you were hoping to see him turn up at the cafe soon. You hadn’t called him all week. Chanyeol flirted with you here and there but you were slowly getting desperate. He never mentioned about you not calling him back. He punched Baekhyun every chance he got and you stormed in to save the beagle pup in time with your first aid but you didn’t get the chance to get closer to him like you did the first time.

He didn’t bother to get closer to you either despite how much he flirted on and off with you throughout the week. It started bothering you whether he was even into you. You hoped you’d see him tonight and you had decided you were going to call him no matter what bullshit came your way.

“Need any help?” Minseok asks you as you arrange the condiments on the table. “Minseok, hi…yes! Can you help me set up the cloth at table 5,” you rush to get the table cloth. "Sure". He smiles softly and follows you to the table and takes the end of the cloth to help you spread it over.

“Um hey, Minseok,” you bite your lip. “I haven’t seen Chanyeol since yesterday,” you ask him as you flatten the folds across the table, “is he coming to the cafe today?”. Minseok pauses for a brief second before answering you, “Y/N, he’s gone to his mom’s place for the weekend”.

You mouth an ‘o’ and laugh nervously, “oh…I see”. 

“Why? Is there something you gotta tell him?,” Minseok asks you. “Oh, he…well, um, he owes me money,” you lie hoping he doesn’t suspect you’re actually whipped for the tall jerk of a boy.

“How much?” Minseok raises an eyebrow. “Uh, $100..” you stutter. “Wow, really?” his eyes pop out widely, “I’ll tell him”. He pats your shoulder. You smile nervously.

One Hundred Dollars. 

You couldn’t have thought of something better. Of course Chanyeol owed you a hundred dollars. You begin cursing yourself when you see Sehun enter the cafe. 

“Hey, Y/N!” Sehun gives you a five. “You know what I like,” he settles himself on the stool. “What’s your plan for tomorrow?” he asks you as he taps the screen of his phone. You move around the aisle to get your ingredients for preparing his bubble tea. “I’m going shopping tomorrow,"  you answer him as you get the tapioca pearls out of the freezer. 

“That sounds very interesting.” He continues tapping into his phone, “what do you plan on buying?” he keeps the conversation going. “I need a new skirt,” you tell him, “and some other stuff”. You don’t elaborate further as you finish preparing the sweet drink. “And..here you go.” You serve him his bubble tea. Sehun takes a good sip and lifts his thumb up approving the taste as he smiles. “You got it perfect just like you always do”.

“Pleasure is mine.” You smile back at him. “So your shift’s done?” he asks you scratching the back of his neck. “Yes, I’ll be leaving now,” you stretch your arms into the air and yawn. “You’ve worked hard today,” he lifts his bubble tea as a toast cheering you on. “Aww you’re so sweet. Thank you, Sehun.” You thank him before you walk out of the counter to change towards the dressing room.

Although you didn’t see Chanyeol today, you were happy you met the other boys. Because they equally lighten up your mood and your day. You take the apron off and grab your coat and greet the boys before you leave the cafe and begin walking home.

Chanyeol wasn’t at his mom’s for the weekend. He was with Baekhyun in downtown Seoul by the Han River– confronting Jongdae’s men.

Although Chanyeol had affirmed that he would take care of it earlier, they were both in a fix. Jongdae had given orders from Tokyo to Yixing to take care of business in Seoul. And now that his radar had detected Black Pearl’s intrusion at Area 94, he had arranged for this meeting.

“Jongdae isn’t very pleased,” Yixing spins the revolver in his hand as he speaks to Baekhyun, “should I finish him off?” he points his gun at Chanyeol.

“Goddamnit this bastard is annoying,” Chanyeol scoffs hysterically as he takes his own revolver out aiming directly back at Yixing. 

“Hold up. Let’s talk business first.” Baekhyun approaches Yixing surrendering his pistol to him.

Chanyeol rolls his eyes as Baekhyun smiles at Yixing. “Look, you keep your profit and we’ll keep ours. You up for it?”. 

Yixing studies the two briefly for a few seconds before deciding, “only because Jongdae said so, it is a deal”. He shakes hands with Baekhyun, “on one condition though…”

“And the condition is?” Baekhyun asks as he gets his pistol back from Yixing. 

He reads Baekhyun’s expression and tells them they have to execute Taehyung’s men at Area 94. 

It was obvious that Jongdae wanted Black Pearl under his control. However, this really did not matter to Baekhyun. Chanyeol was sure he wanted to kill Yixing the very moment he saw him but Baekhyun made it harder by abruptly forming an alliance. He didn’t understand the motive behind it but he believed in Baekhyun.

Despite being so remorseless…if there was one thing Chanyeol was happy about, it was that they were on their way back to Incheon which meant he could stop by Black Pearl to meet Y/N. It was the only thing he was looking forward to since the entire day. Like he'd been craving her which he really was.  

By the time they made it back to Incheon it was around 10 pm. The crossing looked quite busy, the alleys however were pretty deserted. They reach for the alley behind a club where Taehyung’s men usually gathered for a smoke. Chanyeol and Baekhyun along with Yixing arrive with their team quietly to pursue their targets. They spread out orderly from one end to the other taking cover carefully as to not grab too much attention. Yixing’s men block the other end of the alley as Chanyeol and  Baekhyun take their positions when suddenly Yixing receives a call.

“We’ve taken cover. Where are you?” an unfamiliar yet deep voice asks through the phone. Yixing almost answers but immediately realizes the voice doesn’t belong to any of his men when suddenly someone shouts through the receiver alarming them that the FBI was patrolling the area seizing mobsters and were hunting others down.

“Fuck!” Yixing disconnects cursing loudly as he frantically starts loading bullets into his revolver. Hearing this Chanyeol starts walking away when Baekhyun grabs him by his shoulder, “what the fuck do you think are you doing?!”. Chanyeol shrugs Baekhyun’s hand off his shoulder, “look there’s only one way out of this” he begins to storm out of the alley before shouting back, “just trust me, okay?”.

“What the fuck just happened?” Yixing shouts at Baekhyun as he watches Chanyeol disappear. Baekhyun crosses his arms looking unwavered and tells Yixing to wait.

As Chanyeol emerges out of the alley he sees a few armed men in blacksuits blocking the end of the lane. He immediately realizes they could be agents– probably undercover. Keeping his composure he walks towards them casually.

“SMPA, freeze!” a medium built agent a little shorter than Chanyeol stops him from advancing any further. He studies the tall giant keenly when Chanyeol hands his revolver surrendering himself completely, “excuse me, officer? I found this gun lying over there!”.

“I was coming here to give it to you,” Chanyeol furrows his brows. The agent raises an eyebrow as he confiscates the gun from Chanyeol and begins questioning him. “What are you doing here at this time? Answer me sincerely or the consequences will be bad." He glares at Chanyeol.

“I was just strolling for a walk. Came here for a smoke and found the gun,” Chanyeol answers obediently scratching his head like he’s never killed a fly in his life. The agent doesn’t seem too pleased with Chanyeol’s answer. He turns around to give the gun he just confiscated to his assistant as a piece of evidence when suddenly he spots a girl walking by and immediately stops her in her tracks. 

It was Y/N.

“Hey, you over there. You better not move!”. The agent walks towards her crossing his arms. She gets surprised the moment she sees Chanyeol being held too. Curiosity sparks her mind but she realizes that the agent was getting uncomfortably closer to her and scanning her frame with a delirious look on his face. She glances back at Chanyeol who looked pretty annoyed.

Chanyeol snaps as the agent starts examining  Y/N even more closely. “Hey officer? How long do you want me to wait?”. The man glares back at Chanyeol warning him not to make any smart moves. “We’re investigating. It would be best if you both cooperate”.

“But, I didn’t do nothing wrong?” Chanyeol continues arguing. The agent ignores Chanyeol and goes back to interrogating Y/N, getting his hands on her body.  This ticks Chanyeol further off.

“Don’t you dare fucking touch her!” Chanyeol threatens the agent. The agent pauses and turns towards the taller. Chanyeol glares at him and sprints towards the agent with a psychotic grin. As he does he gestures Y/N to escape. She does what shes told and bolts out of the passage.

Chanyeol stops when he sees her successfully escape, “officer, it’s not nice to harass women”. A smirk forming on his face.

The agent turns around to find the girl missing thus enraging him even more when suddenly Do Kyungsoo arrives at the spot with Kim Jongin informing that a few men were just shot dead at the other end of the alley.

Yixing and Baekhyun apparently had successfully executed the men they had come for.

“Chief? I didn’t know you were in charge of Area 94?!” the agent stutters. He then remembers he was confronting Chanyeol only to turn around and realize that he had already escaped. “Kim Woosung, pay more attention when you’re in the field,” Kyungsoo commands him. “Follow me. We need to collect more evidence”.

Meanwhile Chanyeol calls Baekhyun asking about their status. “The job’s done,” Baekhyun answers through the phone. “Cool, can I leave?” Chanyeol asks impatiently to which Baekhyun inquires, “why? where you off to?”.

“That’s none of your business,” Chanyeol snorts. “Whatever." Baekhyun replies only to realize Chanyeol had already disconnected the call.

This is how things flowed. Powerful and influential organizations gave the orders and got the extortion and the deed done and Black Pearl was trapped within this. Baekhyun and Junmyeon never really explained why they were doing this and why they had no choice but to follow the orders around. And now the FBI had involved itself.

It was either going to make or break Black Pearl.

Y/N’s POV

Your heart was beating out of your chest as you took your seat in the bus. You were unable to fathom as you recollected what had just happened. You were happy to see Chanyeol but not like this? That officer was an obnoxious pervert and you were so glad Loey was there to help you out of the situation.

You nervously sipped the water from your tumbler as you stared outside the bus window. Incheon was beautifully lit and it had started raining faintly. You wished Chanyeol was next to you to admire the view with you. Call it magic or pure luck, whatever it was, the minute the bus reached its next stop– the automated door opened to invite an out of his breath Chanyeol panting like he was about to die. 

“Y/N! Are you okay?” he drags his feet hastily and clumsily towards you before collapsing in the seat next to you. You punch him making him yelp. “What is wrong with you?!” you scold the tall boy.  

“I was just making sure you were alright,” he sighs heavily easing himself into the seat. “By running like a psychopath?” you fume at him as he tries to rest his head onto your shoulder. “Fuck, you’re too short for me,” he complains. “Shut up. I hate you so much". You whine and shrug your shoulders nudging him away from you. “I know you don’t". Chanyeol starts chuckling. “You better thank me”. 

“Thank you for what?” you turn your head away from him and fold your arms.

Chanyeol grabs you by your arm and pulls you towards him. “Nobody’s ever..” he bores his dark brown eyes into yours intensely. “I repeat..”.

“Nobody’s ever going to touch you".

The sound of his deep voice fills your ears as he gently sweeps his thumb over your cheek. 

“Other than me, okay?”.

“Nobody,” he pulls you in for a peck on the lips.

“You’re mine,” he chants as he continues pecking your lips softly.

You slowly give in as you feel his warmth envelope your body. You run your fingers through his dark locks as he deepens the kiss. “Mine,” he chants, “mine alone”. He continues as he bites into your lower lip making you whimper. You pause for a moment and pull yourself away from him.

“What’s wrong?” he asks you furrowing his brows. You realize you just missed your stop. “I need to get off,” you cry. “Oh, I can help you with that?” Chanyeol winks at you grinning mischievously.

“SHUT UP CHANYEOL! I WAS SUPPOSED TO GET OFF AT THE LAST BUS STOP AND I MISSED IT BECAUSE YOU KISSED ME AND I MMMMF––." 

He shuts you up with another long kiss.

“Stop, you’re so feisty. It gets me hard". 

You didn’t think your weekend was going to begin like this. Making out with Chanyeol under the streetlight in drizzling rain. The fresh scent of rain mixed with his cologne filled your lungs as he peppered kisses gently along your jawline. You ran your palm flat against his chest feeling his muscles as you both made out. He was so perfectly built you thought as you smiled to yourself.

You could feel him smirk against your lips assuring you that he was enjoying it. You parted your lips allowing him to explore more and he was more than happy to do so. His tongue soon finds yours and you both get lost in the moment as you taste each other. His hands caress your sides and soon slide their way down to your ass. He squeezes the flesh earning a moan from you. You push him away as tries to get bolder with his moves.

“Not so fast baby face,” you pull yourself away from him with a pop. He starts whining with the sudden break in contact making you laugh as you begin walking away from him. “Go home, Loey”. You tease him.

He quickly catches up with you and begins walking by your side. “I told you you can’t just call me that and leave”.

“Especially not after getting me in this state”

“Like this,” he points at his crotch.

“Hah, not my problem,” you chuckle.

“Oh come on now!” Chanyeol sighs.

“You never even called me,” he frowns at you balling his fists and stomping the ground like a child.

You realize you’ve reached your apartment so you kiss him on the cheek. “I need to go now. I’ll see you on Monday". You give him a goofy grin. “What? Monday is too far! That’s not fair.” He starts complaining. “I’m taking you here and right now!”.

“In your apartment! I don’t care!”.

You start laughing at his tantrum. “So, Baekhyun was right?”.

“About what?” Chanyeol asks you with a tinge of annoyance taking over his face.

“That you didn’t get laid in forever,” you break into laughter. “You think this is funny?” Chanyeol charges at you and pulls you into his arms before kissing you again. You laugh into the kiss as he tangles his fingers into your hair. His other hand on your hips.

“You’re so cute,” he dreamily gazes into your eyes. “So are you,” you capture his lips with yours one last time before drawing yourself away from him. “I’ll see you around then.” He stands in front of you tilting his head like a lost pup.

“Me too, Loey,” you give him a smile and begin walking into your building. As soon as you get to your room you run to your window to get the last glimpse of him. He’s still standing there waiting for you to wave back at him and when you do he shouts proudly into the open air. “Now I know which window to sneak in from baby,” he bites his lip and gives you a wink.

The weekend was longer than you thought it would be. Today was probably one of the only Mondays you were excited about in forever. You rummage through your closet for that one shirt you wanted to wear. As soon as you find it you pair it with a tight skirt, the one you bought yesterday. They did a good job at defining your curves. 

You appreciated your body in the mirror. “Let's see if he can handle this,” you giggled as you trailed your fingers along your hips and gave yourself a mini pep talk. You decided to wear fishnet stockings and after you were done with your makeup, you were very content with how you looked and were thrilled to entice the life out of Chanyeol today.

Baekhyun’s jaw dropped the minute he saw you enter Black Pearl, “Y/N what in the world?”. Minseok joined him with the same wild expression on his face. 

“What are you all dressed up for?” Baekhyun curiously scampers towards you as you put your apron on. “Well, why can’t I?” you flail your arms through your hair and pose like a supermodel. Minseok breaks into laughter almost startling you, “you dressed up for Chanyeol, didn’t you?”. He teases you.

“Um, no? I dressed up for me,” you huff at him for his ridiculous notion. “Of course,” Minseok bows inviting you to join him in the counter.

You get busy with work as the hours go by and you get impatient as you don’t see Chanyeol anywhere around. You look outside the glass window and frown biting your lip hoping you’d see him today. You’d had a word with him that you were going to see each other but he still hadn’t shown up. Your enthusiasm was slowly draining.

The door opens and you hope it’s Chanyeol but you see a man dressed perfectly in a blacksuit enter the cafe and take his seat. You attend him to take his order. His voice is deep but soft. He smiles at you, his lips taking the shape of a heart as he does, “I would like a Café Latte, please”.

“Right away,” you return the smile and head back to the counter. While you prepare the order you hear Junmyeon and Baekhyun argue with each other. 

“What is he doing here?!”. 

You see Baekhyun getting restless. Junmyeon calms him down and before you could hear him properly Chanyeol rams through the cafe’s door. His leather jacket is not buttoned– revealing his perfectly toned abs. His hair was sticking to his forehead. You’re speechless as he walks towards you and sits himself on the stool, glaring at you like he’s just murdered someone in the alley.

You get nervous under his gaze as you hold the Café Latte in your hands. You quietly walk out of the counter ignoring him and walk towards the man dressed in black and serve him his order.

Didn’t go as you had planned you swallow nervously as you walk back to the counter. Chanyeol doesn’t speak a word. He’s extremely quiet. Staring at you like he’s about to devour you. You mumble a quiet ‘hey’ to Chanyeol and he finally responds.

“Hey baby,” he runs his hand through his hair before buttoning his jacket up. “What was that for?!” you punch him in the shoulder for behaving like a jerk not a few seconds ago. “Ow fuck, hey?! If you don’t know already it hurts when you do that,” Chanyeol rubs his shoulder to ease the pain, “you’re pretty strong” he pouts.

Suddenly the man in blacksuit interrupts you two. He smiles at you before pulling out a hundred dollar bill and tipping you, “the beverage was delicious. I enjoyed it very much. Please, buy yourself something nice”.

“Oh my god, you don’t have to, I–,” you reply dumbfounded. “Please,” he insists. “Have a nice day”. He places the bill on the platform and leaves.

“Someone’s trying for a sugarbaby,” Chanyeol scowls at the man as he watches him walk out of the cafe. “Do Kyungsoo”. Baekhyun takes the name as he enters the counter, “the FBI chief in charge of Incheon right now”. He stresses his words.

“How do you know this?” you ask him with a dazed look on your face. “Oh, he was in the headlines recently”. Baekhyun distracts you as Chanyeol hints him not to with a stern look on his face.

“Doesn’t matter,” Chanyeol blurts. “What you gonna do with that?” he points at the hundred dollar bill on the platform. “I’m not sure". You sigh. “I know what I can get for you". Chanyeol urges with a devilish grin on his face. “Oh no you’re not,” you walk away from him and get back to work. 

He doesn’t follow you but watches you as you clear up the tables. He waits for you until you finish your shift. After you’re done you head into the dressing room and take your apron off. You adjust your outfit in the reflective surface of the metal door when Chanyeol suddenly enters startling you.

“Yo, nice skirt,” he snakes his arms around your waist and pulls you close to him kissing the side of your face. “Couldn’t get you off my mind all weekend,” he continues pressing rough kisses along your shoulder blade. “You look so good baby”.

“I could just devour you,” he growls as he attacks your neck with soft bites. “Chanyeol". You moan as he nibbles along your collar bones.

“Yeah, baby?” he hums into your lips before capturing them with his. He hungrily molds his lips to yours like he hasn’t kissed you in a million years. You bite his bottom lip roughly drawing a little blood.

“Your place or mine?”  you ask him as you relish in the taste.  

It didn’t take long for Chanyeol to decide. You didn’t know he lived just a block away from Black Pearl. Apparently, the entire squad had rented a huge apartment close to the crossing. And tonight it being empty– Chanyeol thought it was perfect to fuck your brains out in his room.

You struggled to get to his room as you both dragged your feet across the living room. He was making out with you like he was an animal in heat. It was very clear that you both were needy. Desperate to feel each other. He wasn't hiding his emotions. He was wild and so transparent. You could feel his chest rumble against the palm of your hands as he tasted the roof of your mouth. His hands roamed along your curves as he nuzzled into your neck. You trailed your fingers along his biceps as he cupped your ass with his large hands kneading them and making you moan.

The moment you enter his room Chanyeol throws you onto his bed. He gives you his trademark smirk before getting on top of you. Returning his attention to your lips as he rubbed circles along your bare thigh with his thumb. The sensation drove you crazy as his tongue entered your mouth fighting for dominance as you tasted him with yours. You pull away from him for a moment. His eyes filled with lust, “get these off”. He pulls your shirt giving you a grin.

“Why don’t you help me?” you bite your lip as you unbutton his jacket slowly.

Within seconds your clothes are off and you were now partially clad in your laced set of bra and thongs and your fishnet stockings alone. Chanyeol ogles at you like he’s found himself a new goddess.

“Unbelievably gorgeous,” a smile forms on his lips as he gets on his knees taking his leather jacket off. He quickly tosses it to some corner of the room. You crawl your way up to him and get on your knees as well. You trail your fingers along his collarbone. You smile as you feel his firm muscles against your fingertips.

“Loey,” you whisper as you fix your eyes on him. Gazing into his dark brown orbs. You softly kiss the tiny freckle on the bridge of his nose as your hands roam along the back of his neck. He pulls you closer and kisses you slowly reaching for your back as he unclasps your bra. He helps you take it off as you nibble along his shoulder.

“Stop, it tickles,” he pulls you away cupping your face one more time before kissing you again. You don’t listen to him of course. You nuzzle into his neck and continue trailing kisses along his chest going down his torso. You take the moment to appreciate his toned muscles and lick a stripe up his abs making him growl.

“God, Y/N...baby, you get me so hard,” he moans your name in his deep raspy voice. He quickly lifts you up and pins you down into the bed, “let me have my fun first?”. Giving all of his attention to your chest. He doesn’t waste any time as he reaches for your breasts fondling the other with his right hand as he twirls his tongue around your taut nipple making you mewl.

He gently trails kisses down your belly and takes the chance to bite into your thigh. Marking your body like you were his only and his alone. He pulls your thong aside with his finger while boring his dark brown eyes into yours. Before you know it he’s already between your legs taking a long stripe along your slit and across your folds. You cry as he flicks and laps his tongue over your clit making a bunch of profanities slip out of your mouth.

“Feels good, baby?” he asks you inserting a finger into your core making you tremble as he continues lapping at your folds and gently sucking on your clit.

“Fuck! Loey, please,” you plead as he keeps up with his ministrations making you quiver. Just as you’re about to reach your end he licks your core and stops– suddenly pulling himself away and making you whine. His lips smeared with your juices as he grins at you. 

“Not fair big guy,” you pout and push him pinning him down in the opposite direction and get on top of him. You kiss him wildly biting and dragging his bottom lip with your teeth to show how unhappy you were with the denial he just pulled on you. He rubs circles along your hips as you continue kissing him, tasting yourself on his mouth. Giving all your attention to his ripped guns, you explore his body because you were in control. He hisses when you particularly bite a spot under his rib, “my feisty baby marking me up, eh?”. He takes joy in spanking your ass as you mark him.

“I’m so glad you’re wearing these baby,” he runs his fingers along your stockings as you kiss each and every corner and crevice of his body. “I wore them for you baby boy,” you quickly reach for his zipper pulling it down and helping him get out of his pants. As he does you dart your tongue out to wet your lips. Biting your bottom lip as you watch Chanyeol in nothing but his boxers. You could see his bulge take form through the fabric and it was such an amazing sight. You curl your finger gesturing him to walk towards you with come hither eyes full of lust. He does what he’s told. You reach for the waistband and pull his boxers down revealing his hard throbbing member standing tall and proud.

“Like what you see?" Chanyeol asks you in his deep voice.

It was definitely one of the best dicks you had ever seen in your entire life. The one sculpted by gods. And you wanted to taste it so bad. You didn’t care if the world was going to collapse. You immediately reach for his member. The tip oozing wetness from the precum grazing your finger as you gently twirl your thumb against it. You pump him a few times before taking him into your mouth. You run your tongue flat against the protruding vein enjoying the texture and the feeling in your mouth as Chanyeol grunts flinging his head back. He holds your face running his fingers through your locks while you sucked him with a pop. You go as deep as you can take him and go back to teasing him like you’re licking a lollipop. He was your lollipop and you savored it to the fullest. Just when he was to cum you stop and tease him twirling your tongue around the tip, kissing it and relishing the look on his face.  

Chanyeol knew too well and saw it coming but he wasn’t mad. “It's time for the real stuff, huh” he pins you down again. He knew what he wanted and he was going to get it. Your kissing frenzy begins again as you both attack each other with your lips and soon you find yourself locked in a position where Chanyeol had more power over you. You tried to pin him down but he was too strong for you.

“Remember the first time,” Chanyeol asks you to recollect as he situates himself at your entrance. He starts teasing you by tapping the head against your clit. You moan as he glides his dick along your folds and your slit. He plays with you for a couple of seconds trying to get you wet so he can slip inside you easily. 

“When you dressed my wound?” he asks you as he guides his member to your core. “Yeah?” you whimper. “When you got on your knees for me baby?” he bites into your neck which you were sure would turn into a hickey by morning.

“I’ve wanted you ever since,” Chanyeol growls as he enters you. “Under me, like this”. He huffs while easing himself into you slowly stretching your walls. “Fuck! you’re so tight baby". He grunts and struggles as your walls clench around his throbbing member.

It doesn’t take him long to find his rhythm. He nuzzles into your neck and begins pounding in and out of you mercilessly. You both moan each others names as your bodies grind against each others. His chest brushes against your breasts making you squirm and claw his back. You cup his face softly to steal a few kisses. Sweat forms on his forehead making his hair stick to the skin. His muscles glisten in the dim light of his room as he thrusts in and out of your cunt. The euphoric feeling taking over your senses as he hits your spot over and over again.

“Loey, baby I’m so close,” you tell him as you struggle to form your words in between moans. Chanyeol commands you, "that’s it babygirl, cum for daddy".  

The second you realize he has a daddy kink your body jolts against his. Everything turns white as you reach your peak and orgasm under him. You feel the wetness pool between your legs as he continues thrusting himself into you chasing his own high. He soon reaches his end releasing inside of you. Coating your walls with his essence as he elicits a long guttural moan. 

Chanyeol then collapses on top of you however he makes sure you're not crushed. You stay under him and comfort him caressing his back. He slowly turns you around never pulling out of you. He begins kissing along your jaw and you start giggling because it tickles. You lay your hand flat against his chest as you kiss him back. 

“That was hot,” Chanyeol groans as his cock twitches inside of you. “Wanna go again?” he takes the opportunity to slap your ass. You push yourself off him and start heading into the bathroom to clean up– only to see him scamper after you.

“I’m gonna take a shower now so excuse me if you will–”. He doesn’t let you finish as he collides his lips into yours possibly for the millionth time since he first kissed you on the bus last Friday night.

The frenzy had only just begun.

► Chapter ll |  ✎ Masterlist

(a/n) - hello ♡ I’m maya and this is my first fic ever. I’ve been wanting to write this for a very long time and it is finally here lol. Not a native speaker of English so, there’s a lot of mistakes. Sorry :( nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed reading it! Please share your thoughts and comments with me ♡ Hope you have a nice dayyy :)

[missmaxime]

13, 34, 46 for the writer's ask thanks! ❤️

13.  Describe your writing process from idea to polished First of all, bold of you to assume I have a process. I think when it comes to ideas I immediately put them in my phone notes, because I will forget otherwise. Those notes are highly unorganised because every note has both work ideas, personal shit and GG fic all jumbled together. An idea could really start anywhere for me. Wild at Heart started out with the idea that I really wanted to do three different timeslines with different pacing that complement eachother (without any idea what it would really be about yet). And Technicolors happened because I wanted to do something with how kids process trauma, and the prompt was like a gift from the fucking heavens to explore that.  So. Once in a while an idea really sticks and I open a new note to just throw a lot of plotpoints in, dialogue, a bunch of scenes and locations over the course of a few weeks. It usually has a massive list of potential titles which is totally irrelevant in that stage but who cares. In the mean time I also start to think about story-structure. I really like doing wonky things with that as is obvious from my published fic. I really don’t have like a line in this process, it starts out a pile of all these above things and I just start entangling the knot until I have something I like and I can work with.  Then I TRYYY to map out the story. I write a vague synopsis that has an ending (even though I usually deviate from that - I just need something on the horizon to see where I’m going). For Wild at Heart I have a planning for the order of the three timelines for every chapter. But I don’t really map out the scenes so much but I do write something like [Beth and Rio meet the big bad. Have to make a deal. Beth’s being annoying. Wedding shenigans. Remember there’s only ONE BED. Cops?] and the chapters are themed for this, I have that roughly worked out for the overall fic. For Technicolors I HAVE to make a bunch of notes because there’s a lot of reveals from the Jane POV to the Rio POV, and I will forget if I don’t write it down.  For the Modern Arranged Marriage fic I really rammed that one out in like two days, in terms of story-structure and plot. Something things just come to you? It’s vastly different than the other ones and I don’t need to plan so much other than arranging the chapters (haha, o my god this must sound so vague). It’s a puzzle but I think it’s pretty clear that I like that.  OK so for the actual writing I mostly have to make sure I’m just sitting at my desk and have a bunch of coffee and not get disturbed by my RL job. I’m a very chronological writer, so I have to wrap up a scene before I move on to the next. I never really end up doing a lot of rework after that - especially because I end up putting a word in that then I see is already two sentences down and really that INFURIATES ME SO MUCH, I just can’t.  So after many many hours of writing I read it again to fix typos and then I close my laptop and leave that bitch alone for at least a day before I do my editing. Somewhere during this process I picked a titles from my giant list. And depending on the fic I’ll run it by a beta, do some adjustments when it gets back to me and then I post it.  34.  What was the hardest scene you ever had to write? It’s still coming but it’s the last scene of the second chapter of I See Your True Technicolors, and I’m not going to spoil that one! But from what’s already published I think the opening scene of Wild at Heart, because I hadn’t written fic in years and I was still kind of searching for Beth and Rio’s voices. Overall I’d also say action sequences, which I actually write plenty of, but I do spend a lot of time on it to make everything comprehensible.  46.  Do you reread your own stories? Yes, definitely. Usually because they’re ongoing WIPs and I need to get the story straight. But I read some older (non GG) work every now and then. I really like my own jokes and I will laugh out hard when I read some of them back. Or read through fic and be like ‘Pretty good sex scene, for a virgin.’ when I read one from like, 2005.  Ask me Writer’s Asks!  

[reginaldqueribundus]

Sonic’s Ultimate Harem, Chapter 4: Kitty Love

IT’S CATGIRL TIME ON “SAM READS SONIC’S ULTIMATE HAREM”

Sonic rolls right into his next story, which is about him sleeping with Ms. Fortune from Skullgirls. I’ll confess, I know very little about Skullgirls other than that it’s some kind of fighting game. They meet in a diner. Does Skullgirls heavily feature some kind of restaurant or is the author just pulling this out of his ass? 

"Sonic, Sonic the Hedgehog" Sonic introduced

After enduring Sonic’s lame James Bond impression, Ms. Fortune introduces herself and tries to get him back to her place with all the subtlety you’d expect from a fighting game character:

"Pleasure to meet you Ms. Fortune" "Just call Fortune so um… Are you single, are you married" "Yes I'm single and I'm not married. What about you?" "Single and not married so um… Do you want to hang out at my place and we can you know… do something in private" "Ok, this lady is sure is up to something" Sonic thought

There’s…a lot to unpack here. Like the fact that you can apparently be single and married at the same time in the SUH universe. Or the fact that when someone blatantly hits on him Sonic thinks to himself this lady is up to something like the POV character in a noir detective novel. But despite his suspicions they go back to her place and she tries to make out with him.

"What the… What are you doing?" Sonic asked backing away from Ms. Fortune "Relax I just want to set up our mood here for the two of us that's all baby. Come here" Ms. Fortune cooed "I'll pass, I think I should leave"

What the fuck is going on with Sonic? Why is he so reluctant all of a sudden? This is a very strange angle to take in your “Sonic fucks every woman he meets” fanfic. Ms. F feels bad and calls herself a freak, Sonic corrects her and she graciously thanks him. And that’s enough to make him fuck her. Is this…is this like reverse negging or something?

Ms. Fortune had her hands onto Sonic's crotch and pushes him to the wall kissing him passionately.

I CERTAINLY HOPE SHE DIDN’T PUSH HIM BY HIS CROTCH

Anyway, she insults her tits for “only” being a B cup (yeesh) and starts dry humping him. Then she stops to tell him how mature he is. As far as I can tell this is solely based on him calling her “ma’am” when they first met. Sonic helpfully tells her that:

"Well to be honest I used to be hard headed, cocky and immature so I changed into what I amnow. Thought I let you know"

Hold up. I thought the whole point of Sonic’s multiversal fuck trip was to help him become a better person? Are you telling me that a mere 4 chapters into this saga he has already had his earth-shaking burst of personal growth and it happened offscreen? What is this, Avengers Endgame?? 

But I digress. Ms. Fortune puts on some music and sucks him off, and since pulling her own head off and holding it in her hands is something this character can do, frankly I feel the author missed a huge opportunity by not having her do it here.

"Ah snap" Sonic moaned

She proceeds to “blowjob Sonic for an half hour” before swallowing his “milk” (gross) and he gets naked, and then—

Ms. Fortune stood there like a tombstone examining Sonic.

"Well come and show me the goods sugar plum" Sonic requested

I ACTUALLY LAUGHED OUT LOUD AT THIS. She morphs into a fucking slab of marble while Sonic, who claims to be 19 but is clearly 90, talks to her like an old-timey prospector in an 18th century brothel. Here is my artistic rendition of the scene:

Here we see 900-year-old Sonic confronting the looming spectre of his own mortality. Sadly the dementia has already taken hold, and he imagines he is facing the “bawdy women” of his bygone, misspent youth.

After precisely 15 seconds of foreplay (yes, the author is once again arbitrarily timing sex acts) Sonic “inserts his erected manhood into Ms. Fortune”, except then apparently the time continuum resets because “three seconds later Sonic rams it in”. They fuck for an hour and a half holy shit and then switch to cowgirl for awhile. And uh, just going out on a limb here but I’m beginning to think the writer is really into butts considering the number of times Sonic smacks ladies’ asses in this story.

"Oh yes keep smacking my ass, smack it like I'm your slave. I've been a bad kitty" Ms. Fortune sexily requested

"Still you want your ass smack?" Sonic asked

I’M ACTUALLY DEAD. For some reason I heard Sonic’s line in a Russian accent and now I’m imagining him as some kind of Soviet sex robot trying to understand the hedonistic ways of Western capitalist lovemaking.

“Still you want your ass smack?” beeps Blyat-o-tron 5000 in confusion. So many times he has smack the ass of this strange cat-eared girl. Why does she beg him to continue? It serves no purpose. The smacking of ass is not conducive to of making the babies for to work in grain factory. Why do it? Yet still he raises his hand to give the smack. Forgive me Papa Stalin, the robot silently whispers, begging his creators’ forgiveness as he smacks the ass of the cat lady one more time.

Once her ass is “red like a crimson”, they resume boinking and then switch to a third position for FIVE AND A HALF GODDAMNED HOURS.

Her ass cheeks jiggle from every thrusts and they also clap too.

And then the whole ass clapped.

They finally run out of juice steam and collapse to the bed, whereupon she gives him the “so what are we” speech and gets shut down pretty hard, which doesn’t stop them from boning again so loud the neighbours can hear. And then I am mercifully free of this nightmare of neverending hedgehog-on-catgirl sex. Pour one out for my sanity, and for poor Blyat-o-tron.

I wonder what the next chapter is about…

oh god

>>MORE OF THIS SHIT

[tungstenb]

Writer’s Have You Ever

Tagged by @illusivesoul. Thanks, friend!

I’m not sure who to tag (this meme has been making the rounds, and I’m sure many of you have done it already) so if you see this and you’re a writer who’s been wanting to do it... tag! You’re it! Feel free to tag me back -- I don’t bite.

We’re really delving deep into my embarrassing writing past here, and I had to think a bit about all the projects I had going on in my adolescence. The only things I finished were a few (very) short stories and a novella. While my novels were dear to me at the time, I did end up abandoning them, though I may recycle some of the ideas for my webcomic reboot... someday.

Obviously I’m only working on SAtS right now (holy WOW I forgot how much RAM a long-form writing project takes even when you’re not sitting down and actively writing). It’s my first fanfiction and most heavily planned/outlined “novel.” Not gonna lie -- it feels really weird to be writing again and even weirder to be posting said writing on the internet... yeah, that’s also a first for me. Feel free to send anon hate (or anon mild condescension) re: my innate lack of talent here.

Rules: Tag the person who tagged you, then bold the things in the list which that you have written.

First Person

Second Person

Third Person

Omniscient POV

Past Tense

Present Tense

Future Tense

A complete story

A story longer than 1K (assuming this means story length in (1K, 5K], sorry, interpreting these as ranges because I’m pedantic like that)

A story longer than 5K

A story longer than 10K (my novella, and what I’ve posted of SAtS, currently)

A story longer than 50K (what I’ve written of SAtS, currently)

A story longer than 100K (this will be SAtS, but I haven’t surpassed 100K yet)

A story longer than 150K (also possibly SAtS... I tend to be a bit verbose)

A story shorter than 1K

A story shorter than 500 words

Fanfiction

Original Fiction

Fantasy

Science Fiction

Historical Fiction

Dystopian

A story in the Romance Genre

A Story With No Speculative Elements At All

Non-fiction

A children’s book

A story about vampires

A story about werewolves

A story about robots

A story with a non-human protagonist

A story with a main character based on yourself

A story with a character based on somebody you know

Male POV

Female POV

A POV character a different gender from yourself

Animal’s POV

Multiple Viewpoints

POV character under age 15

POV character over age 30

A story told in non-chronological order

Story with a happy ending

Story with a sad ending

Death of a minor character

Death of a major character

Death (offscreen)

Death (onscreen)

Antagonist death

Protagonist death

Villain gets redemption arc

Kissing scene

Sex scene (offscreen)

Sex scene (onscreen) (not yet... but I have a feeling I’m gonna ultimately chicken out and fade to black)

Swears (Mild)

Swears (Heavy)

Violence (PG or under)

Violence (PG-13 or over)

Fight scene

Torture scene

A flashback

A dream sequence

A scene that made you cry actual tears

A scene that made you laugh at your own joke (yeah, I’m lame like that)

A prologue

An epilogue

A story with more than 30 chapters

A chapter with fewer than 100 words

A poem

A prophecy

Story that takes place in the future

Story that takes place in the past

Story that takes place in a world that is not Earth

An anti-hero (only doing what he was doing for revenge)

An anti-villain

A parody(several song parodies)

Description of male character’s scent

Description of female character’s boobs

Character with eyes of a non-natural color (I was in fifth grade, goddammit)

[pug-bitch]

That’s not why I’m going (24)

I can’t believe we’re alone

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake Walker x Amara Suarez

Rating: some foul language, some extremely suggestive, and a VERY steamy scene. This is absolutely NOT appropriate for people under 18. 

Word count: 4,875 (let me know if the ‘keep reading’ cutoff isn’t working well!)

Notes: This picks up right after Drake and Amara take off for the cabin in Portavira, starting with Maxwell’s POV.

*****

‘Alright Amara, that sounds good. Yep, you two get some air, ok? We’ll be fine. No, no, don’t worry about us, I promise, Bertrand and I are gonna take good care of Hana. Love you, see you tomorrow!’

Maxwell hangs up, and turns to Bertrand and Hana, seated on his left in the towncar.

‘Are they ok?’ Hana asks.

‘They’re fine! They’re going to Jackson’s cabin in Portavira until the event on Monday. Amara needs a breather, and I think Drake too.’

Bertrand nods. Maxwell had expected his brother to protest, but ever since they’d talked about their father together, something in him had changed. ‘Then they need to do what’s best for them,’ Bertrand chimes in, surprisingly.

Max is taken aback, but he smiles at his brother. ‘Yeah. That being said, Drake wants to grill tomorrow night and he invites us over, that way we’ll be that much closer to Penelope’s estate.’

‘Oh my God that sounds great!’ Hana says excitedly. ‘I can’t wait to see the cabin!’

Max glances at his brother, who is suddenly looking out the window, his lips pursed. ‘Bertrand, Amara said you’re invited. Come with us!’

His face lights up, and Max’s heart sinks. How many times had he excluded his brother, simply because they didn’t have the same notion of fun? Bertrand clears his throat and says ‘I unfortunately cannot. I’m, um… I have to meet with Prince Liam tomorrow in the late afternoon. About Father and how to go about it.’

Max nods. He and Bertrand had discussed the matter, and both agreed that it was time to stop the blackmail. But first, they needed to talk to Liam and make sure they did it right. After that, they would find a time and a way to openly discuss their father’s secret with the court, and the country, which would allow them to both stop paying off Albert --and, most logically, to let him go--, and to advocate for LGBTQ rights. Max had suggested that they give the money that served to buy Albert’s silence to an association. Bertrand had loved the idea. Of course they wouldn’t be able to do it every month, but once in a while was important.

Max was not surprised that his brother was supportive. Ever since he’d told him about their father’s secret, Maxwell couldn’t stop thinking about the year he came out as bisexual, to both his dad and brother, when he was 18. He was terrified of their reaction, but Bertrand had been nothing but supportive, and although talking about it made him blush, he even encouraged Max to bring his girlfriends or boyfriends home as he pleased. Their father simply gave him a pat in the back, and told him this only sentence: ‘You are who you are, son, in the privacy of your own life.’ Max had always thought it was because his father did not want a stain on their reputation. But now he knew he was hurting from his own lie and simply didn’t know how else to deal with it.

As a result, Max never really came out publicly, just to his friends, and whenever he dated men, he did so in a discreet manner, avoiding the spotlight. With his party boy reputation, he was sure that, if he was ever caught by a photographer kissing a man, it would just be shrugged off as ‘Maxwell Beaumont is so silly! He kisses boys when he’s drunk, what a scamp!’

Max didn’t care, though. His friends knew him, he knew himself, and that’s all that matters.

But maybe this was the moment? Maybe not. If he came out publicly now, some old school, ignorant bigots would probably claim that queerness is hereditary, and that would hurt the cause more than help it. Maybe he’d be public about it one day, but not now. He didn’t feel the need to, anyway.

Max was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice that they had arrived at Ramsford. It would be weird to be here without Dramara. In such a short time, Amara had become so important to him, like a sister, the sister he never had. Funnily enough, if he had had one, he would have never been able to sponsor Amara for the competition, and the rest is history.

‘Are you alright, Maxwell?’ Hana asks sweetly.

He squeezes her hand and responds, ‘Yes hun. I’m glad you’re here. Let’s go have fun!’

*****

Olivia looks at her phone. Her fucking phone, the origin of all this bullshit. A text from Amara, after dodging about 4 calls from her. She wasn’t the worst person to talk to, far from it, but Olivia just didn’t feel like talking right now. Still, she opens the text.

Wanna come to Drake’s cabin tomorrow night for a barbecue? You can stay over, the whole gang is coming. Please, Liv?

She rolls her eyes, but quickly responds.

Yes. Stop harassing me, I’ll come.

The dots appear, and soon another text.

Ok, I’ll leave you be. Just please tell me if you’re ok, and please promise you’ll call if you need anything.

She rolls her eyes again, but deep down, she’s grateful that someone’s in her corner.

Yes and yes.

Without giving Amara any more time to respond, Liv throws her phone at the bottom of a drawer. She doesn’t want to see it right now. She hates to admit it, but the perspective of slumming it in a dirty cabin tomorrow is refreshing. She needs out of this mess, even if it means staring at Walker’s antler collection.

As she’s about to get into more comfortable clothes, she hears a knock. ‘Liv? It’s me.’

Liam. Just who she doesn’t want to see.

But she’s gonna have to face him at some point. ‘Come in.’

As he carefully enters her room, she corrects her posture, and makes a point of maintaining eye contact with him. Fake it til you make it, right?

‘How you holding up?’ he asks, while closing the door behind him.

‘I’m fine.’

Was she, though? She’s not ashamed of having casual sex with a hot man who happens to work for her, not at all. She’s not one to be bashful about those things.

No, that’s not what’s bothering her. She saw Liam’s face fall when he opened his envelope. She saw the disappointment. So sure, she could be mad at him for taking her for granted all their lives, and for holding up to a double standard. As Amara pointed it out, he’s upset at her banging someone else when he has a literal litter of women pursuing him? That’s not fair.

But she knows he knows. She knows he realizes why she’s banging Ilya.

To forget him, to pretend that everything is ok, even if he doesn’t choose her, even when he doesn’t choose her.

That’s not how a Queen would deal with things.

‘Liv, tell me the truth. We both know you didn’t do anything wrong, but it can’t be easy, having your private life broadcasted like that--’

‘I’m fine, Liam,’ she repeats, her tone as cutting as possible.

Liam throws his hands in the air and responds, ‘Alright. Whatever you say.’ He gestures to the ottoman next to her bed, and raises his eyebrows at her. She nods, and he sits down. ‘I, um… I’m sorry that happened, for what it’s worth. I’ll do whatever it takes to find who did this.’

‘Liam, we both know who did this. Madeleine.’

Liam nods. ‘She’s part of it for sure. But I discussed it with Drake and Amara, and they both agree that she couldn’t have done any of this alone. Logistically, it’s not possible.’

‘No shit,’ Liv says. ‘Ask yourself the right questions, Li.’

‘What do you mean?’

She sighs. ‘Just be careful who you trust.’

He nods, visibly not comprehending everything. ‘You’re right.’

She can tell he’s watching his mouth around her, he’s tiptoeing around the problem, and it kills her. Fuck it, she thinks. She’ll just ram right into it.

‘Not much of a royal attitude I have, huh?’ she asks bitterly.

Liam chuckles, and looks at his feet. ‘I don’t know why you’re saying this. You can do whatever you want, and in fact, you know as well as I do that many nobles are not monogamous, so…’

‘But they don’t really fuck the help, do they?’

She didn’t mean to sound so condescending. That’s not her. She doesn’t look down at commoners the way that Neville does, for instance. But it just came out of her mouth before she could stop herself. She’s not going to correct herself, that’s not her either.

‘Liv, I don’t judge you. I promise. You and I never established--’

‘Yeah yeah, I get it, we never had anything worth keeping. Now please get out, I’m tired. I won’t join for dinner, but tomorrow I’ll be at breakfast. Bye, Liam.’

He opens his mouth to respond, but quickly gives up, sighs, and heads towards the door. ‘See you tomorrow, Livvy.’

As he closes the door, tears flow to her eyes. He hadn’t called her that since childhood, since their sleepovers. ‘Night, Livvy,’ he would say, while they were counting the stars on his bedroom ceiling.

No, she won’t cry. Not today. She can still breathe.

*****

Drake can already feel himself relax as they’re getting closer to the cabin. He can tell that Amara is relaxing too, judging from the way she started to chat excitedly once they were about half an hour away from the capital.

‘Look at these birds, Drake! So pretty!’

He turns his head towards her, and smiles upon seeing that she is peacefully smiling at the fauna they are passing on the country road. Part of him was scared that she wouldn’t enjoy the countryside, what with her being a New Yorker, but he can see that he was wrong.

‘I hope you like the cabin,’ he says. ‘It’s very remote but it has everything we need.’

She nods. ‘Of course I’ll like it! I’m not in a state of mind to complain about the lack of wifi, believe me. I’m excited to get away!’

Drake chuckles. ‘Heh, there’s actually wifi in there, you know. I’m there quite often and I like being able to watch movies and TV shows. So you see, it’s more modern than you thought already!’

She smiles and takes his hand, placing it on her thigh where she grips it tightly. ‘Thank you for taking me, Walker. It’s exactly what we need right now.’

‘You’re welcome, it’s literally my pleasure. I’m looking forward to just us.’

‘Me too. Just us, no talking about anything upsetting, ok?’

He nods enthusiastically. ‘Absolutely. No investigations, right?’

‘I’m putting all of this on hold, I promise,’ she responds. ‘Can I just ask you something, one last thing, before we get there?’

His heart tightens. ‘Tell me.’

She sighs deeply. ‘Do you think our friends are ok? I think Hana is, but Liv? Max and Bertrand after all the talk about their father?’

‘I think so. Max is stronger than you think. It may look like Bertrand is the rock of the family, and in a lot of ways he is, but Max is emotionally very strong. Healthy emotions, no repression.’

Amara nods. ‘I see that. I just…’ she shakes her head and stays silent.

‘What babe? Tell me.’ He squeezes her hand.

‘I know Max had a complicated relationship with his father, and he told me that when he came out to him, Barthélémy’s reaction was...underwhelming. Now that we know what we know, there’s definitely a lot to unpack there. I wonder if Max needs to talk about it. I just want to be there for him the way he was for me. For us.’

There it is. Amara is such a good friend, she tends to put herself second, Drake knows that about her already. ‘You are there for him, Suarez. You’re just taking an evening off. We’ll see them tomorrow. He’s not alone.’

He’s squeezing her hand still, eyes on the road. He doesn’t want to look at her, because if he does right now, he may never look away again. His hand feels warm, entangled with hers, and he has trouble defining what he feels. Warmth, happiness maybe. A furious need to be there for the woman he loves and admires so much.

A ravaging fear of letting her down.

*****

‘This is amazing, Drake,’ Amara whispers as they both walk into the cabin.

She takes it all in; the wood panels, the rustic, simple furniture, the smell of fresh air and lavender. She noticed tons of lavender everywhere in the front yard as they got out of the car.

‘Really?’ he asks, visibly nervous.

She knows he has always compared himself to Liam, and that he has an inferiority complex. She just has no idea why. No one could look at this amazing man and think he’s inferior to anyone.

She has just walked in, and yet she feels a thousand times more at home here than she has ever felt in the palace. Or even in her own apartment in Brooklyn, which had always felt like the wrong place. The only place she had ever felt this way about was her parents’ house in the Philadelphia suburbs. A small, modest house, but in a nice neighborhood, and with a huge backyard where she and Sergio would run around when they were kids, and later on, lay in the sun with books and drinks. Their dad still lived there with Nancy, he never had the heart to sell it, and probably never would. When you lose so many people, you want to hold on to the feeling of truly belonging somewhere. That house was like a family member.

That’s how she feels now. Like home.

‘Yeah, really,’ she replies, a little twinge in her voice. ‘I love it.’

Drake rubs his neck awkwardly and smiles at her. ‘Do you want a tour? I’ll give you some toiletries and maybe some clothes until Max brings your stuff. Sav still has a room here, and lots of things in her closet.’

Amara nods. She closes the distance between them and grabs Drake’s hand. ‘Thank you,’ she whispers in his ear, before kissing his neck. ‘I’m not sure we’re gonna need clothes, but ok.’

Drake’s face breaks into a wide grin, as he captures her lips into a deep kiss. They both lose themselves in the moment and Amara feels her head spin. She throws her arms around him, and he pulls her closer.

‘Fuck, I can’t believe we’re alone,’ he whispers, his voice raspy.

Amara has to stop herself so as to not rip off his shirt. After all, this is the finest denim, it should be treated carefully. With shaky hands, she impatiently unbuttons it and throws it on the ground, before pulling off his T-shirt. She’d missed feeling him close to her. Ever since the wave of paranoia, they had barely had the opportunity to be alone, and even when they were, they had to be careful.

No more being careful here, though. Drake responds by unzipping her floral dress and letting it drop to the floor, without ever interrupting their kiss. She can feel his hardness against her, and she can’t wait any longer to set it free. Her hands explore his stomach, then venture south where they undo his belt and unzip his jeans. Amara can’t help but let out a moan upon touching his big, hard cock. She wants it, she wants him really badly. She pulls down his boxers, and lets her hands roam all over his naked body.

He guides her to the kitchen island, a square, wooden cabinet on which Drake hoists her up swiftly, still kissing her. Once she is seated, he spreads her legs open with a movement of his knee, and Amara feels her core burning. She grabs his cock in her hand, drawing a low groan from Drake, and proceeds to pull her own panties to the side. He stops her in a swift hand motion, and pulls down her underwear so quickly that a yelp escapes her mouth.

With one hand on her pussy, he unhooks her bra with the other, and then caresses her breasts softly and lovingly. Amara can’t take it anymore, she’s so wet that she’s worried she will flood the island. ‘Fuck me,’ she whispers. ‘Please.’

He slides two fingers inside her at once, and explores her core in circular motion. She moans tirelessly, hungry for more.

‘You’re so wet,’ he whispers into their kiss.

‘I want you,’ she groans, impatient. ‘Now, Drake, please.’

But he continues to tease her clit with his thumb, his index and middle fingers still inside her. She bucks her hips and grinds his hand, moaning louder and louder. His impossibly hard cock is resting on her thigh, and she feels him getting impatient too, as he pushes himself closer and closer to her. Finally, he puts his tip on her entrance, and Amara can’t help herself but moan loudly in relief. She needs him now, why is he making her wait?

When he pushes himself into her, he lets out a long and deep groan, as if he had been waiting to enter her for hours. She would like it to last, she really would, but she is so close to orgasming from the anticipation, and she knows he’s close too. Too bad, she thinks, they’re gonna have to do it again later and savor the moment more. For now, she wants him to fuck her senseless.

*****

They had come together and it had been mind blowing. Still giddy and shaky from the orgasm and the closeness he had shared with Amara, Drake poured two whiskeys and smiled as he watched her put her dress back on.

‘You look beautiful,’ he says.

‘You look beautiful too, Walker,’ she responds playfully.

He walks towards her and kisses her on the lips as he gives her a glass of whiskey. He felt totally relaxed. Not to mention it felt good to be as loud as they want. No more muffled sounds, no more stress about who might hear. Over here, no one could.

Even the location of the cabin was pretty secret, as it was not on an official road. You’d need to know where to go. Max knew, of course, and so did Liam, but that was about it. Drake wasn’t even sure if Liv had ever been here.

‘Do you want to go sit in the backyard?’ he asks.

She nods, excited. ‘Yes! Let’s enjoy the sun.’

They had to wipe down two chairs; Drake hadn’t been at the cabin in a while and everything was covered in pollen outside. He couldn’t stop smiling, he was simply loving life too much right now. What more could he want? He was away from everything, with the woman he loves.

‘What’s up with the goofy grin, Walker?’ Amara asks cheekily.

Drake chuckles. ‘You know exactly what’s up.’

‘Oh, you’re feeling smug because you drove me crazy and made me wait forever?’ she responds with a grin.

‘Heh, I have no idea what you’re talking about, Suarez.’ He takes her hand and kisses it. ‘It’s just that… you know.’ She raises an eyebrow, prompting him to continue. He obliges. ‘I love you.’

Her face lights up. ‘I love you too.’

They sit outside, side by side, their whiskey in hand, for a while. Then, Drake breaks the comfortable silence. ‘I didn’t even give you a tour.’

‘I saw the kitchen island, that’s all that counts, right?’

He laughs. ‘Do you want to see upstairs? It’s not much but…’

‘I’d love to see upstairs. Let’s go.’

He guides her to Sav’s room first, and shows her to the clothes she’s welcome to borrow. She looks at the framed pictures of the two Walker kids, tracing the frames with her fingertips, not saying a word. She stops at a group photo, including a younger gang: Max, Drake, Liam, Kiara, and Savannah. ‘Wow,’ she says, ‘you know this pic is old when Maxwell doesn’t have his hippo tat yet!’

Drake laughs heartily. ‘Exactly. We were kids.’

‘You were cute. Very broody. Just like now…’

He shows her his bedroom next, the same one he lived in on weekends when he was young. He changed it all though, he didn’t keep it intact the way Sav did. He wanted this place to make him feel like an adult, unlike his room at the palace, which made him feel like a teenage mooch. He’d thought of taking the master bedroom in the cabin, now that his dad had passed and his mom was back in the States. But he couldn’t bring himself to move in. Couldn’t get past his dad’s lingering presence, which made him ache still. So, he had turned his teenage bedroom into something more adult, with fewer posters and more artwork, a bigger bed, better sheets, and even a loveseat for when he wanted to read in the evenings.

‘Drake, this is beautiful,’ Amara whispers. ‘Very nicely decorated, and so tidy. I’m impressed.’

‘Did you expect a bachelor pad?’ he asks, a smile on his face.

She laughs. ‘Not really. I know you’re tidy. I just expected something different. More of a time capsule, less of adult you.’

He nods. ‘I do what I can.’ He smiles at her and wraps his arms around her. ‘The bathroom is next door, feel free to take what you need. Mi casa es su casa, ok? I’m gonna go to the store to get some food for tonight and tomorrow. Any requests?’

‘Just one,’ Amara responds, her face lighting up. ‘Can I come with you?’

*****

Olivia had ventured out of her room right before dinner to get some food. She’d thought of asking Ilya to bring her some, but she didn’t feel like talking to him today at all. He’d called her several times, but she didn’t pick up, so he’d sent her many apology messages. She’d reply another time. She didn’t want him to feel guilty about something that had never been wrong to begin with.

She wasn’t even hungry, so she’d pecked at her food while she was watching Killing Eve on her iPad. Something about assassins helped her relax.

When she heard a knock on her door, she debated playing dead. She was sure it was Liam again, to try and convince her to come down for dinner. She was in no mood to talk to him again.

‘Liv, it’s Rashad.’

She sat up, startled. She and Rashad were far from being close, but they respected each other, and enjoyed each other’s company at official functions, as two cool, cynical people. Maybe he wouldn’t be annoying, who knew. So, for some reason, she went and opened the door.

‘Hey Liv,’ he says nonchalantly, ‘can I come in? I come bearing gifts.’ He holds up a plate of pastries and a bottle of vodka.

‘Fine,’ she responds coldly, even though the sight of the vodka made her heart skip a beat. She was almost out of scotch, so this was good timing.

He closes the door behind him. ‘I won’t pry, I won’t ask questions. Let’s just gorge on éclairs and drink the entire bottle of vodka. Ok?’

She takes one too many seconds to respond. ‘It’s 7. You should be at dinner.’

He shrugs playfully. ‘Eh, I’m not in the mood. All of the interesting people are gone someplace or other tonight. I was starting to regret staying at the palace, but then I remembered that at least, one interesting person remains. Hidden, here, in your lair. So, here I am.’

Liv represses a smile. ‘Fine. But we’re watching my show.’

‘What is it?’ he glances at the screen. ‘Oh, Killing Eve. Love it. Do you have any glasses?’

Olivia nods. ‘Yes. Glasses are over there. Make mine a triple.’

*****

‘We have to buy these. Oh, and these!’ Amara gestures at all kinds of cheeses.

Drake laughs, ‘Hey, hold on, we’re gonna need a bigger basket if you continue.’

She pouts, ‘But the cheese… we can’t get anything that good in the US!’

‘Ha, I know. Alright, let’s take it all. If you and I don’t eat it, Max will tomorrow.’

Amara was delighted. Sure, it was a simple grocery store, about twenty minutes from the cabin, still in the middle of nowhere in Portavira. But that’s exactly what she loved about it. No frills, no court, no bodyguards, no one watching them, just Drake. She was dying to do more normal people stuff with him, was aching to get away from it all. She was still feeling guilty about leaving Max, Liv, and Hana when they needed her, but the guilt was starting to fade away as she felt more and more comfortable in this new, amazingly simple routine with Drake.

He’d chosen fish fillets for tonight, that he would bake in the oven, accompanied by rice and vegetables. She was enjoying looking at him, at how happy he was, conceiving a menu and describing to her how he would cook the ingredients. He also picked up hamburger patties and sausages for tomorrow’s barbecue, as well as some crudités and snacks. Eggs for breakfast, bacon, fruit. He was thinking about everything.

‘Do you want me to make a dessert for tomorrow?’ Amara asks.

‘If you want to, that would be great,’ he smiles as he’s putting peaches in his basket.

‘I could make a pineapple cake,’ she says excitedly.

‘Sounds awesome.’

She kisses his cheek, excited to be a part of the hosting process, even though she is fully aware that Drake is enjoying himself doing all the prep. She can’t help but imagine what life could be like if they just escaped court, and had a regular job, without any blackmailers or sneaky bodyguards. She lets herself dream for now, because she knows in a couple of days, they’ll have to report back to Penelope’s, and by next weekend, Liam will have chosen a Queen. Amara tries to chase all stressful thoughts from her head. Maybe everything will fall into place, that’s what she needs to hold on to.

*****

‘The sexual tension is phenomenal,’ Rashad murmurs, absentmindedly biting into a small puff pastry.

‘Shh,’ Liv says, ‘you’re misreading the show, so shut up.’

Rashad scoffs, and pauses the video, to Olivia’s dismay. ‘Hold on,’ he slurs, already drunk after three very generous shots of vodka, ‘are you telling me you’re not watching this for the character interactions?’

Liv rolls her eyes. ‘No. That’s unimportant. What matters is the murders, Rashad.’

He giggles. ‘Oh, Nevrakis. You are definitely something.’

She tries to stop the smile from reaching her lips, but she can’t this time. The vodka, the sweet, sweet murderous TV show, the pastries, and Rashad’s comforting presence are making her feel warm inside. She almost presses play, but hesitates. Finally, she says, ‘Thanks for coming tonight. I, um. I thought I needed to be alone, but I appreciate the support.’

He nods, finishing his shot in one gulp. ‘Of course. It’s appalling what they’re doing.’ He puts a hand on his mouth. ‘Sorry kid. I said I wouldn’t talk about it.’ He makes a zipper gesture on his lips.

Liv sits up. ‘No, it’s fine. I started talking about it. You can. I’m an idiot who fucked her bodyguard and sexted with him, please chime in.’

Rashad grabs the vodka and pours a shot for Liv, and one for himself. ‘No, you’re not an idiot. In fact, I think you’re as far away from being an idiot as humanly possible, you know. The blackmailer, that’s an idiot. Or several idiots. Like, outing a person? That’s fucking horrible. That can ruin a life. And then what, broadcasting nude pics of someone else?’

Liv laughs. It’s funny how she never stopped to consider how Ilya felt about his penis being printed and distributed to everyone. She’d have to check in with him later. ‘You’re right. Thankfully for him, he’s well endowed. Otherwise it could have been embarrassing.’

Rashad laughs earnestly. ‘Right? I mean come on, the people responsible for this shit are really backwards. They think being gay is a scandal. They think casual sex with the bodyguard is a scandal. You’re above that, Liv. And if that whole thing prevents you from moving forward in the competition, well you deserve better than this country. Than--’

‘Than Liam?’ she interrupts.

Rashad falls silent for a few seconds. She caught him off guard. ‘That’s not what--you know I meant no disrespect. I know you two have history.’

She nods. ‘You know Amara, right?’

‘Yeah. The American woman, very nice. Spoke to her before brunch.’

‘She agrees with you. She thinks I deserve better. I never stopped to think about it in those terms before she mentioned it. And now you mentioned it.’

‘Again, Liv, I meant no disrespect.’ His words aren’t slurred anymore. Olivia can tell he feels bad, and it sobered him up.

‘No worries. I’m starting to get it.’ She chugs her shot, and gestures for Rashad to pour her another, which he does.

‘Cheers, Nevrakis,’ he says, raising his glass.

‘Cheers.’ She turns off her iPad. She needs something else right now, something to keep her mind off of all the shit that’s happening. She thinks of Little Beaumont and his answer to everything. She shrugs. Maybe he had a point. No harm in trying, right? ‘Hey Rashad, wanna play Never Have I Ever?’

*****

Taglist:

@andy-loves-corgis @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @jovialyouthmusic @alesana45 @mariahschoices @drakesensworld @thequeenofcronuts @notoriouscs @drakewalkerisreal @nikkis1983 @simsvetements @iplaydrake @emceesynonymroll @lily1999love @drakewalkerwhipped @drakewalkerrosenberg @drakeswalkers @drakelover78 @silviasutton1989 @dcbbw @carabeth @furiousherringoperatortoad @hollygirl1269 @sirbeepsalot

Thank you for your encouragements, everyone! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

[floggingink]

Riverdale: “Chapter Eleven: To Riverdale and Back Again”

the 2001 Josie and the Pussycats movie was a masterpiece: Josie and the Pussycats serenade Riverdale High students like three angels of the Lord appearing to them over the intercom, and the glory of Grade A Dark Amber shown around them, and they were terrified

Josie’s ombre pink braids? good morning

Jughead doesn’t have a homeroom? OR A HOME?

can you believe Cheryl can honestly hike her leg up like that fantastic statue of Venus where she’s busting it all out? meanwhile, Veronica, touching up her lip liner like it’s NOT all happening behind her

What damn high school in America: Principal Weatherbee won’t even let Betty delegate physically putting up the Homecoming decorations? cold

Certified pedigree: Archie’s mom, MOLLY RINGWALD, is staying over for a few days out of concern for her son’s happiness and/or safety in Riverdale. A) they are not showing us the implied scene where she says she doesn’t want to “kick Jughead out of the guest room” only to be told that Jughead isn’t sleeping in the guest room so much as he’s sleeping in Archie’s room. B) THIS is MOLLY RINGWALD’S first outfit? morally questionable. a very strange sweater. it isn’t a crew neck, it isn’t a turtleneck, and the color is this off-peach white-person that bleeds too uncannily into her neck, and she has on a lot of blush...her liner is darker than her lips...maybe she is still experimenting, like in Sixteen Candles

Archie correcting her to say “songwriting” as opposed to just “singing,” like in the pilot when he said he wasn’t writing “poems” but rather “song lyrics”

how do we feel about Veronica’s growing obsession with all things her father? how he’s turned into an omnipresent yet unseen, merciful-cum-wrathful god in her life, giveth and taketh away, betraying and bestowing upon the Lodge women, both the reason they had to flee and the solace they gather around in the evening, charming and infecting all people, places, and things Veronica has in her life? because I love it

speaking of fathers, SKEET ULRICH has shaved

he appears to have some very wholesome travel postcards magnetized to the fridge, and I think a Crock-Pot. and an EXTREMELY RESPONSIBLE bowl of fruit on his little kitchen table

FP…….asked to read Jughead’s WIP…....to see how much Jughead knows…….he is……..COLD!!!!!! bow down, Weatherbee, in the presence of a master!

A) Jughead hasn’t titled it yet, the twit

B) FP does some incredible parenting, for sure, calling it “EXCELLENT” (while wearing his wedding ring on his middle finger? COLD!!!!!), saying Jughead has “A GIFT,” which is par for the course required feedback for your high school child’s creative writing, which always sucks, no matter how good it is, proportionally, it always sucks, but you say it’s excellent because you know one day they’re going to end up in a college workshop and they’ll be torn to pieces and they’ll need to be able to go back in their headspace to a safe place and it’ll be you, their father, telling them two years ago that they had “a gift, thank god you’re not wasting it”

C) FP adds one packet of sugar to his 16-oz., EDGY!!!!! can one packet even sweeten anything??? hahahaha I add like six!!! I have an addiction!!!! just like FP!!!

D) “It’s like he chose me.” SHUT UP JUGHEAD

E) FP is not interested in his son’s choosing a thematic focus on Riverdale over plotting, would like a suspect list from the POV of Jason’s peers, who seem to be making much further headway on his death than the cops

F) “Can I make a suggestion?” “That’s what Betty says. And then it turns into a dozen suggestions.” classic workshop couch-phrasing, “a suggestion,” Betty is the editor we all need

Summer + Blair = Veronica: Veronica calls it “a moment” too, like Jughead! GOD BLESS!!!

okay, they DID NOT have sex, like my eyes told me they did. they “crashed in separate beds.” I PLAYED MYSELF

magenta, again, is a FANTASTIC color on Veronica

Archie is “boyfriend material” now? is Veronica huffing glue?

I use Veronica’s “bandwidth” analogue a lot, mostly in regards to making excuses for not calling my mother back, but I say “RAM.” pros/cons? am I old?

I googled it and it looks like bandwidth is data use and RAM is like the space for data use

Betty’s see-through floral collar is just a little bit of heaven

Alice looks awesome! her lace-lined V-neck sweater, almost-trumpet skirt no one looks good in, pinkest pink cardigan!

“Oh my god, mom.”

Joaquin is a “gay greaser serpent”

“which is why I have prepared a seemingly innocuous list of questions”

the Blossoms appear to have a Turner painting of a forest hanging outside the Wig Room

in any other world, the patriarch wearing wigs to hide his grey hair would be a mildly amusing side-note, but on Riverdale it’s like, CLIFFORD IS WEARING RED WIGS. DID HE FREEZE HIS SON’S BODY? POST YOUR ANSWERS ON BLACKBOARD

“If you want to go after Jughead’s dad, I’m in.” I changed my mind. I love Jughead and Veronica not being friends. I CHANGED MY MIND

Cheryl’s black furry jacket!

Betty deserves “nightmare Smurfette.” she does. it’s okay, it’s just that she does deserve it. it’s okay

Gay?!: “co-queens,” CO-QUEENS!!!!

Archie is like, WHOOOOAA, Betty, no??? you don’t want me to? holy—

Archie can’t believe Veronica led him into this deserted science classroom to talk about...the murder investigation. remember three weeks ago, when he knew nothing? he misses those times

Veronica doesn’t really care about Jughead being collateral damage! she acknowledges it abstractly but doesn’t really care!!! MY SLYTHERIN PRINCESS

MOLLY RINGWALD wears a verrrry interesting pine green bathrobe-robe to “pick up” Fred for some lunch that do a lot better things for her coloring than her sweater

Every triangle has three corners, every triangle has three sides: subtle dig at Hermione with “working for Fred” as opposed to “with” him? or more likely it’s that Fred used that particular preposition talking about her before

Hermione has brought up being a “mean girl in high school” and this being payback before, I think it was in the interview with Fred in the first episode?

why is Betty PHYSICALLY putting up the decorations? surely she has bureaucratic minions to do the literal heavy lifting

PAUSE to reflect on the fact that Polly gets a DAILY MILKSHAKE

………“sleeping quarters”

like they’re racehorses or something??? or on the Titanic? SLEEPING QUARTERS?

“Damn good coffee”:  surely EVERYONE welcomes back Scheming Alice Cooper, baking a peach pie for her character, information-gathering “date,” information-gathering “date,” all the Cooper girls do this

I would not put it past her to be sprinkling some truth-serum shit ONTO the pie, like Charlotte Charles and her homeopathic mood enhancers on Pushing Daisies

Mädchen Amick, MÄDCHEN AMICK: Alice uses lonely, family-starved Jughead as a round-faced pawn in her game of Get FP and it takes but the merest flexing of this fact in Betty’s face to get Betty to back off

pepperoni and red pepper pizza IS AMAZING, but you know what is even more amazing? green peppers and mixed Greek olives. check it out, Arch

Mary’s hair in the kitchen lighting is this incredible, almost purple-undertone red

Mary has politely not said anything about A) Jughead still wearing his beanie despite being, now, sixteen B) Jughead SLEEPING ON ARCHIE’S FLOOR

JUGHEAD’S FACE when he nods at Archie to get him to agree to like giving permission for his parents to come to the dance, like, Dude, yeah

Fifth period is AP English: I love whatever “So the worm turns” means, even though it’s possibly the creepiest idiom in English (not sourced), and of course it’s in Jughead’s repertoire

Fwoopy hair is the best hair: Episode 11 has blessed us with the true mystery surrounding Riverdale: Jughead’s hair routine. clearly the boy uses a styling mousse after showering and blow-dries it upside down with a round brush to achieve THAT level of bounce and manageability

the female gaze: Archie sleeps shirtless even in this, the dead of an autumnal winter (October)

CAN YOU BELIEVE??!?!!! HOW QUICK ON THE UPTAKE ARCHIE IS ABOUT FP! damn! like damn!!!! “Maybe you should wait” is good enough, like WHOA!, but he totally knows, from Veronica’s prompting hours before in the back of his mind, when Jughead says FP asked to read what’s basically a parallel investigation of the Jason Blossom murder, it AAALLLLL COMES TOGETHER FOR ARCHIE. Archie has never felt this feeling before!!! I’m so proud!!!

Jughead doubts it: Jughead was right about the rendezvous, but he didn’t know it was A RENDEZVOUS FOR MURDER

Veronica was rich: God, the art around the Lodge apartment is SO bland. PLEASE

Archie is going to DO the same thing as Veronica, the snooping, but from a place of PROTECTING Jughead, the opposite as Veronica, which is a spicy cocktail of trouble

I’m writing a scene where it’s gay.: of course Cheryl and Polly wear kimonos while putting on makeup

of course Cheryl says “fur-reek”

those red lacquer jewelry boxes!!!!

I KNEW THE RING WOULD BE BACK!!!!!!! NANA ROSE!!!!

“Hands off, Gollum.”

the Blossom corpse: Cheryl moves fast from “Pollykins” to threatening Polly’s bodily safety and the gas pedal is Jason

Betty is wearing a pale blue off-the-shoulder dress and looks calmly stunning, like a Disney princess from the 80’s, Jughead is wearing black-on-black-on-black and looks adorable, a suit that fits

FP is presumably NOT swinging by the dance after dinner, while Alice found some very nice dangling Coldwater Creek earrings

Alice’s nail polish is GREY

Best costume bit: Veronica is dressed like a sparkly vampire with a cropped jacket WITH A FUR COLLAR, WITH her new pearls, and Archie is in red-orange velvet. give thanks to the Lord, for He is good

the mounted bass on FP’s wall baffles me every time

Jason threw the ring back at Clifford the morning he ran away? it wasn’t on Polly’s finger?

you knew some shit was about to happen when Penelope WATCHED Polly drink her “daily milkshake”

God, a DAILY MILKSHAKE? this has shaken me to my core

though she is eating for three

Jughead eats: all Jughead gets this episode is the Cooper dinner! is he just being polite? can it possibly be any good?

Hal manages to drag FP and Alice simultaneously by reminding everyone FP lives in a trailer park and reminding everyone Alice threw a brick at him

HOW FAST does FP take back the reins with his “King and Queen of Hell” story? HOW FAST!!!!!

I still can’t believe Archie put those pieces together about FP and Jughead’s story. like I am so excited he did that

“No, this is a fun story, I promise.”

FP KNOWS ABOUT THE FIRST COOPER PREGNANCY, ERGO, THE “APPOINTMENT”, HOW ON EARTH IS THIS POSSIBLE

I’ve seen Brick like thirty times: this scene is YET ANOTHER amazing, AMAZING tone-switch by FP wherein he very quietly scares everyone by speaking at a normal pace and tone about something that makes everyone uncomfortable

Betty and Jughead, honestly, have no idea what anyone is talking about now

...or is it black-on-dark blue-on-black? what color is Jughead’s shirt? I’m second-guessing now

Alice’s left eyebrow is legendary and Betty’s stoneface is legendary

the Blossom parents do a bit of an about-face with Cheryl to bring them back to her camp against Polly

Cheryl’s lipstick and nail polish and dress match perfectly, which scares me

Cheryl’s hair: and her hair of course, in an extremely high ponytail, is perfect

Cheryl’s sheaths: and that RED DRESS!!!!!!!

GOOD GOD, THEY’RE STILL IN THAT TRAILER!!!!

Archie is right on the money AGAIN when he says that Veronica is HOPING to find something incriminating because the uncertainty of who Hiram Lodge is is so nerve-wracking for her that she can’t accept another outcome

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death” is always a good one to break out, like for parties. Veronica Lodge and Jed Bartlet would probably get along like gangbusters

These students are legally children: I don’t believe even Betty and Jughead would have the temerity to make out DURING a break-in

Archie > Dawson: I think Archie grabs Veronica’s bag FOR HER on the way out because she forgets! Archie is like, like a SUPERHERO this episode!

the Coopers, presuming Jughead is using Betty’s, both have clear umbrellas

FP telling Jughead to be “a gentleman”; “He always is, Mr. Jones.”

although since FP is pimping out one of his gang members for the collective good, I’d be interested to know what being “a gentleman” means, in Southside context

I’m truly hoping that when Jughead got back into the truck, FP was anticipating Jughead asking him some sort of sex question

OR scolding him for making Betty feel weird at dinner

uh, is there a Toledo I don’t know about that isn’t the Toledo in Ohio? I mean, OHIO? TOLEDO, OHIO? WHAT FRESH HELL?

Sixth period is Intro to Film: mark this day, in the year two thousand and seventeen in the Common Era, on which Jughead began a Worry Montage in his head and gazed out at his girlfriend from behind a rainy window, standing in the rain in a party dress staring into the distance, while a Sad Teen Song began playing in the background

am I crazy or is Betty’s little clutch see-through?

Jughead wants to “figure something out together,” continues to long desperately to be in perfect synch with someone despite himself

Gay.: Cheryl does her cover with Betty EXCELLENTLY, turning it into something she can be mean about

Alice and Mary in the girls’ room doing the thing where they only look at each other’s reflections while insulting each other, reapplying lipstick

“What the hell?”: Veronica falls into her mother’s trap wherein if she had just acted like she and Archie were gaily chatting with Alice about their dresses everything would be fine, but instead her facial expression reads explicitly as “I was in a trailer park tonight”

just as when Kevin told Veronica that Mr. Muggs had like, put a gun in his mouth, so does Betty go into A FUGUE STATE as she puts two and two together and realizes Veronica went snooping behind her back

THE CLOSE-UP OF BETTY’S EYES WITH THE STROBE LIGHTS TURNING BLUE AS SHE GAZES STRAIGHT AT VERONICA, UNABLE TO BELIEVE THIS BETRAYAL, HER HEARTBEAT SLOWING LIKE CHRISTIAN BALE’S IN EQUILIBRIUM, BETTY IS ABOUT TO ASK SOME QUESTIONS

Veronica may or may not be slightly afraid in this moment, as she did witness Betty holding a man’s head under boiling water with her high heel

Archie and Veronica’s duet is adorable, because of course it is

but EVEN BETTER, like when Archie was singing at the talent show AND Betty and Jughead discovered Jason’s car, now Archie and Veronica are singing AND the cops are raiding FP’s trailer!!!

what is Cheryl distracted about? her shady parents? is Cheryl distracted about her shady parents at Homecoming??? I love that Cheryl didn’t bother with a back-up date, but rather stands alone in a sea of dancing young people and stares off to the side, distracted by her shady parents, sort of in the way

God bless Moose: Archie swings his guitar around, and Moose is like, YEEEEESSSSS!!!!!!!! BRO!!!!!!

Please protect Betty: Betty CANNOT. believe. what she is seeing. or coming to understand, rather. is she getting a premonition that something is about to go wrong? because she DOES believe FP is innocent, or she said she does. maybe she just knows that with her mother involved, something bad is imminent anyway

FP feels the ground shift when that lockbox comes out

IS—THAT—MS—GRUNDY’S—GUN????????????? OH SHIT!!!!!!!!!!

I love Mary’s super-calm black dress and I love Hermione’s dangly earrings and I even love Fred’s white suit

you KNOW Archie wore Chucks to the dance, please. I think even Jughead is in dark dress shoes! but I guess if he’s performing, he has to stay lowkey, for his brand

Jughead’s shirt is blue. rest easy

Veronica could have delivered that better

Jughead covers his mouth like, EXTREMELY DRAMATICALLY, and points to Archie and Veronica, “these two” with two fingers, he is so beyond, beyond

Betty has on TINY PURPLE BOW EARRINGS

OBVIOUSLY Betty didn’t KNOW about the snooping, I mean, OBVIOUSLY

Jughead, a word. I would like you to calm down. I know you feel big feelings, and that you feel them .5% more than other people. I know you’re under a lot of stress, even though you have fantastic hair, with or without your hat. I know you’re a “creative type.” a “writer,” you know? listen, okay, I think you’re great. but I would like you to calm down with Betty. I was with you in the garage, you know, even in the garage, most of it! but I would like you to stop acting like Betty is the head of a Betty-conspiracy whose goal is to upend your life. Betty CLEARLY, and she IS TELLING YOU, she didn’t know what Archie and Veronica were doing. and you know, YOU KNEW Alice invited FP over to grill him because—because you were right there too!!! it’s not like she was grilling him secretly, in another room! so maybe we can calm down! maybe we can stop snipping at Betty to her face all the time. remember when you climbed a ladder to her bedroom window to check on her (remember when he was in her bedroom?), just because you love her that much? and got all flustered when she smiled at you? can we go back to feeling #blessed in her presence, Betty, the sweetest girl in the world, unless she is Dark Betty? maybe we can try and do that. get back to me

honestly the news that Jughead’s father has been arrested can only have come from Fred, otherwise it would have been too...too cruel…

YOU KNOW WE GOT A LITTLE SCENE OF JUGHEAD TOSSING HIS FATHER’S RUINED FURNITURE AROUND IN TORMENT

my god, but Jughead looks EXACTLY like his dad when he lifts his head back up. he looks EXACTLY like his dad

I don’t know what to make of “I love Jughead”!!!!! I don’t know!!!! she follows it up immediately with him being “like her family,” so it’s probably more like how she can “love” Archie (now) and “love” Veronica, etc., as a chosen family, friend-family-love, you know, agape

—although if she means it romantically, you know Betty and Jughead as a couple are DOOMED!!!!!!! the ticking clock starts now!!!! AND I LOVE IT!!!!!

Alice sees Dark Betty in Betty’s eyes and wisely steps aside

...so I guess Hal put the gun there…? although Fred also knew Alice had the gun? or did he??? I forget who knows what, exactly. I don’t know if Alice told Hal she found that gun. but Fred was at the dance/wants Jughead to be happy/lowkey adores FP, while Hal doesn’t give a damn about the Joneses, right, so like…..who???????

the Lodges sitting on their couch, shell-shocked

Archie is drinking…...a restorative….glass of milk? with like…...a cinnamon stick or something in it? is this MOLLY RINGWALD’S doing?

Riverdale is truly so fucking bonkers that CHICAGO is ostensibly a safer place for Archie to live

Cheryl’s a psychopath: Cheryl “Perry Mason” Blossom using a hand mirror to check on Polly’s breathing

Penelope has Clifford’s “word” that “he will pay” for killing Jason

Betty’s handbag is a see-through plasticky thing with little sparkles and shinys on it, it zips shut, Betty is a princess

are they ASSUMING this gun is the gun that killed Jason, which wouldn’t make a lot of sense, like FP could just have a gun lying around because he’s FP Jones, but if it’s really the gun, like, isn’t it also Ms. Grundy’s gun, like there can’t be TWO guns, like—DID MS. GRUNDY’S GUN KILL JASON???

the leader of a local biker gang has been framed in the murder of a drug-mule football star, who got shot with a pedophile’s gun, probably over maple syrup

NEXT WEEK: RIGHT NOW: has Cheryl slapped Jughead yet? WHY IS SHE SLAPPING JUGHEAD, IS IT A GOOD REASON? FOR GOD’S SAKE, WHY, LIKE, WHY NOT, BUT WHY?

[books-and-cookies]

THINGS I HAVE LEARNED FROM GREY (PART 5/?)

1. It’s 10 am and I’m running on caffeine fumes and the hopes of a better life someday, so BUCKLE UP KIDS THIS SHOULD BE A DOOZY 2. Alice Cullen Mia is probably the only character I genuinely kind of like in this series. 3. More fabricated drama in the form of Ana meeting his family. I get it, meeting the folks is a big deal. But like…guys… I don’t care. I don’t care about any of these characters. I don’t care what happens to them. I ALREADY KNOW what happens to them. I’VE READ THIS BOOK BEFORE. FROM ANOTHER CHARACTER’S POV. WHY WAS THIS GREENLIT AGAIN. WHY. SURELY SOMEONE SAW IT AS THE TRAVESTY THAT IT IS. THE WORLD DESERVED BETTER. 4. Only a 50 shades book could get me from mildly annoyed to full on rage-mode in 5 sentences or less. 5. This is the book you should recommend to people you’re annoyed with. When they finish it, you can yell in their faces: THAT’S HOW YOU MAKE ME FEEL, I HOPE YOU LIKED A TASTE OF YOUR OWN MEDICINE, NOW FUCK OFF. 6. “It’s between control freak and stalker. I chuckle to myself. I’m just running. It’s a free country.” – uh huh, and Trump was just catching up on the latest Game of Thrones episode with his Russian buddies, swapping memories about the Red Wedding. (I’m betting they were glad the Starks got murdered) 7. “She might as well be addressing my groin.” – I now have a mental picture of Ana talking to Christian’s nether region in baby talk: “who’s a good penis-boy, whooooooo’s a good penis boooooy? There’s a good penis-boooooy. Stand. Good boooooy.” 8. It may be very clear to you by now that I have indeed, lost my fucking marbles.

9. “I laugh, and my body stirs.“ – I mean, his default state of existence is horny. 10.   “Are you going to hit me?”         “Yes, but it won’t be to hurt you. I don’t want to punish you right now. If you’d caught me yesterday evening, well, that would have been a different story.” – I mean… *whispers* what the fuck

11. “In my closet I strip off all my clothes and from a drawer pull out my favorite jeans. My DJs. Dom jeans.” – are you fucking kidding me, what the everloving actual fuck hahahahahhahahaha 12. I’ve never in my life been so bored while reading smut. 13. Honestly though, every single sex scene reads the same. There’s nothing fresh – I don’t mean in terms of what’s happening, necessarily, but the writing is literally the same. He frees his dick/erection, she has nice skin, moans, she’s “exquisite”, he smacks her, good girl, yes sir – I mean seriously. STAHP. 14. “an I’m-just-showing-you-how-it’s-done expression” – the return of the I-can’t-write-to-save-my-life expressions. Such joy. Very wow. Much death from me.

15. “What the hell happened to Mr. Love ’Em and Leave ’Em? Kavanagh must be good in the sack.” – heaven forbid someone chose to stay in a relationship with someone else for other reasons than sex. FUCKBOY ALERT!!!! Hide yourselves. Hide everything you love. 16. “When were you going to tell me you were leaving?” My temper is rapidly unraveling.” – Ana has woken the dragon. OH MY GOD. CHRISTIAN IS SO SIMILAR TO VISERYS FROM A GAME OF THRONES FUCK ME THIS IS A REVELATION.

17. “So she went to a bar with the guy who was trying to ram his tongue down her throat the last time I saw him. And she’d already agreed to be mine. Sneaking off to a bar with another man? And without my permission… She deserves to be punished.” – guys I’m running out of ways to say how fucked up this is. I’m like: get this girl, hide her and put her in a witness protection program asap. 18. Is 10 am too early for booze? No? I thought so. I mean, it has to be 8 pm somewhere am I right? *scrambles for wine and vodka*

19. “I also have to establish a few ground rules. We need to discuss her impromptu trip to Georgia and going out for drinks with men who are infatuated with her.” – Ana is obviously a five year old, incapable of making any decision. Thank the GODS Christian came into her life, to teach her the good ways. Bless. Bless us all. 20. “Please don’t hit me,” she whispers.” – I should have counted the times she’s asked him not to hit her or asked him if he would hurt her. Humanity needs a new plague if this is considered romantic + good literature. 21. “No one’s ever said no to me before. And it’s so—hot.”

22. “my eager dick” – yes hi hello, I would like to introduce you to my penis, also called Eager Dick. 23. I can’t even. Wow. 24. In the span of like 5 hours, they went from happy, to arguing, to angry sex, to happy again and now to a fight that seems to be escalating. And this happens every. Single. Day. And you know why? Because the only time they communicate is when it’s related to sex issues. I just. I need all the wine. 25. Christian’s insecurities make absolutely no sense. For someone who is as successful as he is, as young as he is, it’s such a huge contrast to see him instantly assume that Ana wants to leave him the second she asks for some time for herself. And he does this repeatedly. Kids, in school, we call this: inconsistent characterisation (I have no idea if this is an actual official thing, but if it’s not, I’m inventing it now and Christian is the poster child please and thank) 26. “Talk to me. I don’t want to lose you. This last week—” – friendly reminder that these people have literally known each other for a week. I don’t even commit to new coffee after a week. Also, Ana went from virgin to being spanked with a riding crop in the span of a week. Am I the only one that finds this so unrealistic it hurts? People colonising Mars during my lifetime is more realistic than this. 27. His insecurities are honestly starting to get on my nerves. Author went too far with it and she’s trying too hard to make him likable because let’s face it, she wrote this book to show that Christian isn’t as bad as people make him to be and it shows. When I’m reading a book I don’t like to be annoyed. Annoyed is unfortunately my default setting with this book though. 28. “I am going to put these inside you and then I’m going to spank you, not for punishment, but for your pleasure and mine.” – but... but why 29. Why 30. I have found it. The sentence that has forever ruined any other sentences in the English language. Bask yourselves in its glory. Rejoice. Salvation is here. “Her sharp intake of breath is music to my dick.” 

31. “Ana, baby, “weird” is my middle name.” – I thought it was fifty shades of fucked up ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  32. My eyes are orbiting earth, that’s how much I’ve rolled them throughout the last 20 pages or so. 33. “Is she trying to make me jealous? Does she have any idea how mad I can get? She’s been gone for a few hours, and she’s deliberately making me angry. Why does she do this to me?” – because you’re a control freak guts-gripping harpy. Guys, I’m running out of insults. 34. And she’s still the one worried he’s mad at her and asks him to forgive her. I cannot with these people. I’m contemplating throwing myself into the ocean and making friends with mermaids. And a killer whale or two. They’re cute. Maybe I can set them on Christian and rid this world of awful male characters. 35.  Well this has been fun but it’s time for a well-deserved alcohol poisoning break. 36. Cheers, y’all.

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 4

Fifty Shades of Grey, Fifty Shades Darker, Fifty Shades Freed masterpost

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