#feel free to beat my ass for this or to put in two cents about it

[alevens]

not to be a hater, like genuinely BUT, if Thriller Bark is truly a zosan moment wouldn't it be like a one-sided thing?

like i can see where zosan enjoyers are coming from when they make what didn't happen about 'em two, but if u were to actually consider it, it's almost heartbreaking with how unrequited it ends up being? i mean, Zoro is doing it for Luffy, there's no questioning that, both of his dreams are so intertwined by then that Zoro can't imagine being the world's greatest swordsman if it's not for the future Pirate King, if Zoro accepts taking Luffy's suffering is because he's ready to die for him, that's how committed he is to his captain, he truly believes Luffy will make his dream come true, and then you have Sanji (and, if he tries to sacrifice himself instead of Zoro, we know it's because of his suicidal tendencies and putting people before him bc he can't see what his worth is, but let's leave that aside) telling Zoro that no, it's him who'll accept Luffy's pain bc they can always find another cook, most people see this as Sanji doing it for Zoro, but at the end, even if that was all there is to it, Zoro doesn't let him and the whole reason of why he's doing it in the first place never changes, it's for Luffy, what he didn't do was for his captain, so he could live to complete his dream, he says it himself. and again, not to be a hater but if u were to read zosan into Thriller Bark, i think it's unrequited love on Sanji's part bc Zoro feels too strongly about Luffy (wether be platonic or romantic), that he'd never see Sanji in that light

[jinwoowoo]

On Public's Eyes (Fromis_9 Saerom)

Nothing beats a wonderful relaxing day than spending it on the beach, basking in the sun, and getting some tan while sipping some cold coconut juice freshly opened from the husk. Even the beach view is great. The blue sapphire color of the ocean waving back and forth to the shore while the sun provides the spotlight on their exquisite dance gives you relaxing vibes.

"Must be nice to just sit here and enjoy the air while everyone around you is doing their work." Saerom crossed her arms and leaned a foot forward, giving you a stern look with her cat eyes.

"Oh come on, babe. It's not like I have anything to do. I'm just here to supervise the filming. They don't want someone nosy to pick up the way they work, right? I'm sure the staff can handle the rest." You hug Saerom by her waist and pull her closer to you, making her sit on the space you created on the beach chair you are resting on.

Saerom has been your girlfriend for years now. You two met when your father introduced Fromis9 to you as the new kpop group your finance company supports. Of course, supporting and sponsoring them permits you to sleep with any of them, anytime you want. You don't want to brag about this, but you already fucked and tasted all of the fromis9 members, not just once but on most occasions. They are all great in bed and everyone has their own charms when having sex with you, but the only person that captured your heart truly is Saerom.

Swiping her short hair to one side of her shoulders and leaning on the other, you hugged Saerom by her waist. You spread your legs wide, putting a space where Saerom can sit between your thighs and snuggle with you. She leans against your hard chest, hand resting on top of your arms.

"Don't even think that being sweet will save you, YN. I will tell your dad that you are not doing your work job properly." Saerom warned you while her free hand reached for your face and cupped your cheek.

"But what is exactly my job here, Saerom? I'm just here to make sure that every cent my company gives doesn't go to waste." you groaned out from Saerom's endless nagging.

Getting cozy with the little break she has, you snuggle your face into the crook of Saerom's neck. She groaned lightly from the hot air you breathed out on her neck. Your lips already made contact with her pristine skin, nibbling gently and tasting her body. Saerom squirms as you travel your kisses down to her exposed shoulders. Thanks to her outfit, you can even easily access her smooth midriff and caress it.

Saerom shivers from your touch. The moist slit on her crotch turns completely wet now. Her chest heaves fast, and her nipples are erect and becoming sensitive under the blue strap crop top she is wearing. Saerom's body can't help but squirm in your intimate embrace and grind her supple ass against the building tent behind your beach shorts.

Aroused by Saerom's subtle humps on your crotch, you decided to return the favor by groping her clothed boobs, sensitive nipples are agitated by the fabric. Saerom gasped as your movements towards her body were getting rowdy every second. You suck and kiss her skin harder, placing your love kisses and marking her body. She can't help but cover her beautiful moans with her hands. Feeling her skin getting warm to your touch, you slid your hand down to her crotch through her plaid skirt, only to be halted by her free hand before reaching her core.

"YN. Wait! We're in public." Saerom moaned out, panting as she took her time to take a breath after you stopped all of your movements.

"You surely are late to notice it by now, Saerom. What do you want? Should we go back to the van and continue there?" you offered on Saerom while trying to slip your hand further into her pussy.

Saerom is still in her state of arousal and she doesn't want to interrupt the feeling by going to a much more private location. In a hurry to get at least her hips to be covered from the eyes of everyone around you, she noticed and used the beach towel on your side. Saerom opened the towel wide and covered her thighs. With the problem finally solved, your girlfriend smirks at you and presses her bottom harder on your boner.

"This will do, right? They will know we are having sex but at least they won't see our hips fucking" Saerom smiled mischievously.

Proud of your crafty girl when it comes to sex, you kiss Saerom's sexy shoulders and trace them up to her gasping mouth. Saerom parted her wide lips willingly, permitting your tongue to slither inside her mouth and make out with her. Her lips taste so sweet and tangy, an exotic tropical fruit that only you can taste.

Your hand resumes its work on her shaven crotch, finally finding the treasure hidden under her sea-colored skirt. You are flabbergasted at how wet your girlfriend is. You had sex with Saerom multiple times, but you haven't felt her pussy this soaking wet before. You placed your ring and index finger on her pussy lips and spread them apart, allowing your middle finger to glide against her opened slit. Saerom's body jerked up from the touch, causing her to hop from her seat and sit directly on your boner.

You hissed in delight as you feel Saerom's weight crushing your confined cock. It is not that you are complaining that she is heavy, but you wished that your dick should be at least out of your trunks and doesn't get bent. You pulled your trunk down and boxer down just enough to free cock. Saerom felt your phallus slap against the bare back of her waist, giving you a smirk. She needs that dick right now but you won't let her get it easily.

Saerom's body suddenly stiffens as you plunged two digits deep into her leaking cunt. She squirted out some of her sex juice already, coating your fingers and easing your pumping speed. You spread your fingers inside her like a scissor, targeting her sensitive spots. Even with her body trying to resist and push out your fingers, you maintained your grasp on Saerom's heated body and finger her on a mission to make her cum.

Saerom's body temperature slowly rises. The tingling sensation on her pussy intensifies with your fingers pummeling her vagina mercilessly. Her groin tightens up, her breathing hitched up and her walls are clamping hard around your fingers. Unable to hold her urge any longer, Saerom cums hard on your hand. Her juices are splashing on her underwear and plaid skirt. Though you can't see her orgasm, she knows she is squirting a lot since you feel the pressure praying on your palms.

Saerom's orgasm finally subsided and you didn't forget to collect some of her juices in your closed hand. You took your hand filled with her cum out of her skirt carefully. Using your free hand, you grasp Saerom's jaw and forced her to open her lips, pouring her cum from your other hand directly into her mouth and letting her drink it.

"How's the taste, Saerom? I took that from a precious source around here." you giggled while Saerom gulps the last drop of her cum from your hand. She spread your hand wider after, licking out her essence left on your palm

"It tastes awful but addictive. How come you always want to drink that?" Saerom huffed her breath out.

"It tastes great, you know. Especially when I use a special tool to collect it."

Holding your raging cock from its base, you slap its wet skin against Saerom's back, emphasizing the special tool you are talking about. Dazed from her own orgasm, she already forgot about your dick and giggled. You lay your back on the beach chair and Saerom quickly mounted your hips. With her legs astride, she took the beach towel from her side and used it to veil your hips together. You found it funny since she still has her skirt on, but it is still up to her whether to use the towel or not.

"Let's see if you can get more of that juice with your special tool"

Smirking, Saerom spits on her palm and jerks your dick. Her cotton-like palms surely feel great against your shaft, but you need something better besides that. Placing your hands on her lithe waist, Saerom knows what you already want. She lifted her hips on top of yours, pushing her soaked panty aside using the head of your dick and aim it at her entrance. Running out of your patience and already horny, you slammed her body down and sink into your cock.

"Fuck!~" Saerom moaned so loud that everyone around the shooting site heard her sinful voice. Saerom glares at you and slaps you but you catch her wrist before hitting you.

"Nah-uh-ah~ ride me out babe." you cooed at Saerom. "Let them watch us fucking."

With your free hand cupping her cheek, you turned Saerom's head sideways and made her look at the staff and her members. Most of them are in shock, but her groupmates show obvious arousal on their faces.

"Show them why you are the leader of the group, babe. Let them know why I, YN, chose you to be my girlfriend"

With some encouraging words, all you need is a little push to make Saerom fuck you out in the open. You held her slim waist and thrust your hips upward, making her moan needily out loud again. The people around gasped, finally confirming that you and Saerom are fucking. Her eyes slowly turn their gaze from worried to aroused as she finds the fun of having people watching her having sex. She looks at you and grabbed your hand, slipping it under her crop top and having a direct connection to her boobs.

"Fuck YN!~ Your cock is so big! You are splitting my insides apart!" Saerom screamed while moaning your name. The people around took out their phones and captured the scandal happening at the shooting site.

Saerom's succulent walls feel great around your cock. Her pussy is sucking you deeper, swallowing your whole girth. Saerom had problems taking your size before, but her body driven and drunk on lust makes her forget it already. Her juices are trickling down your column of flesh, keeping it slippery and well-lubed to ease her riding. She turned her head and put her hair on one side. You found it sexy and charming, especially if she smirks with her eyes and lips right after.

Her rapid bouncing causes the loud smacking sound of the skin coming from you two. You cupped both of her cheeks and fondled them harshly, making Saerom arch her back gracefully. The towel keeps falling out of her waist as she rides you. Annoyed as she always stopped to put it back, she finally removed the towel and tossed it somewhere on the sand. With now finally exposed hips, people can see clearly what was happening under the towel, not that they already know what is happening.

You remove your hands from Saerom's crop top and slide them down to her hips, tugging up her plaid skirt and letting people see your sexes connected. Saerom rides you slowly to let the viewers see how her small pussy takes your huge appendage, then goes fast to let them witness how her pussy juices splash around as she rides you. She bounces faster and rougher every second, her sweat drips down from her neck to her exposed shoulder.

"Fuck Saerom! Calm down! You are gonna make me cum soon!" you pleaded as you want to prolong the pleasure you feels but Saerom has other plans.

Knowing that your climax is pending, Saerom turns around while your sexes are connected. Your dick twisted inside her, locking it between her vagina like turning a screw. She resumes her rodeo and fuck you relentlessly, sending you to your orgasm. Your toes curled up, groaning lowly as you blast your load deep inside Saerom's womb. Glob after glob, your phallus doesn't stop spewing out potent jizz inside Saerom's sex hole until it overflows.

Few more bouncing and Saerom reached her peak like you. She came around your cock, much greater in volume this time and proving that your sex tool wrings out more of her pussy juices. She felt exhausted and leaned back, resting her tired body on top of your chest. You hugged her body and turned sideways, spooning your tired girlfriend on the beach chair.

"Well done, Saerom… Haha…" you chuckled while kissing her sweaty shoulder, slurping out her bodily fluids.

"Should we call your dad about what happened? We can't let a scandal happen before our comeback.

You nodded to Saerom's suggestion. On that day, everyone's phones were confiscated, and the footage of your sex with Saerom. The staffs are also forced to sign a nondisclosure contract about what happened in exchange for a salary bonus by the end of the month. Saerom had to go as it was finally her turn for the photo shoot. It feels lonely to be left alone on the beach chair, but luckily someone seems to want to have what Saerom had.

"Hey, Nagyung! Come here." you patted the space between your legs. Nagyung smiles and giggles as she goes toward you.

[muselixer]

dumb things my friends and I have said: 2023!

part two: april - june apologies ahead of time for length! feel free to change pronouns if need be. warning for foul and dirty language, and capslock-implied yelling :)

“Astral projecting your spirit into a cloud with your face on it isn't a good battle strategy.”

“His circulation is immaculate. Do you KNOW how fast his heart beats?”

“Wow. I did all of that for NINETY CENTS.”

“Live from a satellite orbiting his own ego...”

“If your personality can best be described as ‘cat’, you MAY be autistic.”

“I NEED TO FOCUS, YOU NASTY BITCH.”

“Actually, I’m just gonna aim a firecracker thru their window, that should get them to stop.”

“My brain decided to live la vida loca.”

“In a WalMart? Nah, same difference.”

“It’s a little treat for me, for being a good boy while I’m home alone.”

“I’m going to Willy Wonka this child.”

“If I die soon, just know I got air-striked.”

“I just wanna feel like a bad bitch again...”

“My auditory is so not processing that.”

“He eats the WHOLE fucking chin.”

“Who needs weed when my brain is fucking broken?”

“Your voice sounds like you need chapstick.”

“You ask a lot of questions, so I’m just staring.”

“He should shut his mouth before I Matrix it away from him.”

“Can’t I platonically give my bro a bath?”

“It makes me wish our walls were fat.”

“The thing about coffins is that you don’t have to experience being inside of one.”

“I have autism because I was a pothead in middle school.”

“You’re basically hot-boxing my cooch under there.”

“No sweetheart. Lola Bunny’s father Walter Bunny did not host Family Fued.”

“That shit gave me dinosaur arms.”

“He could’ve eaten her ass and she wouldn’t have noticed him there.”

“PUT ON PANTS, SIR. ...Well, I mean, okay. In public. Put on pants, in public.”

“DALE EARNHEART IS THE TAXI DRIVER?!”

“I need to say something mean to you and I don’t wanna say it.”

“How can he be homeless? He has a 3D printer.”

“I don’t think eating ass is kosher.”

“As it turns out, eating ass is indeed kosher. If anyone even cares.”

“I get it, okay? I get it. I do. But there are better ways to look like a drug addict.”

“I hope this isn’t a symptom of something I haven’t researched heavily.”

“TEKASHI SIXNINE MAKES GAY PORN?”

“Do I look submissive and beatable to you?”

“Dude, I swear to god, your mom. No, I’m serious. Listen to me. Your mother.”

“If you weren’t my friend, I would have picked you up and thrown you.”

“Hang on.” (takes out phone to send a text) “Yeah, they said those aren’t valid pronouns.”

“Who would pass up an opportunity to eat shit?”

“I like my men PATHETIC.”

“Can you tell I’m terminally online?”

“Binge watching this show would fix me. ...That’s a lie, it would destroy me.”

“Turn me into a mouse I’m begging you.”

“Crash Bandicoot lookin’ ass.”

“I’m not a stuffy! I move and I eat fruit snacks!”

“You’re delusional and deserve to be put down like a dog.”

“Imagine having a name. Couldn’t be me.”

“Have you ever heard of boogercore?”

[babysaid]

Okay, so my thoughts on RUSH!:

I asked for a meal and Måneskin delivered a BANQUET! It’s a really good album overall: the entire band was on their A game for this one!! I really like the direction they took and the recent interview with Zane Lowe where they talked about the creative process makes me love it even more!

FUCK every basic bitch hating on this album because of the leaked lyrics!!!! Songs are not poetry and the instrumentals / vocal delivery can really elevate the entire thing!!!

Vic was born to play bass, Thomas is a legend, Damiano honestly has one of my favorite voices ever and Ethan is so good I just want him to [redacted] [crash sounds] [gunshots] [dogs barking]

My two cents song by song - that no one asked for - is below the cut

- Own My Mind is already in 3 different playlists of mine. Can’t wait to hear it liveeeee 9.5/10

- Tom Morello had less than 30 seconds and delivered everything in Gossip! Thomas is honestly so fucking talented, I’m gonna cry. Lyrics slap, instruments slap, promo slaped. 9/10

- My first hot take is Timezone. I already knew I would have problems with this songs when I heard it on the tiktok promo. Weakest link the first 5 songs. Emo as fuck, sounds like something a Wrapped Tour band would play (derogatory). Gets points because I can imagine a very aggravated Sony executive listening to “I don’t give a fuck about the contracts that I signed” and I giggle. Also, I miss being a teenager 7/10

- DON’T GET ME STARTED on BLA BLA BLA. Silly as fuck but I LOVE IT. God put Vic De Angelis on this earth just so she could EAT this bass line!!!! My fave along with Own My Mind 9.8/10

- Baby Said has old Strokes vibes so it’s right up my alley. Again, not very strong lyrics but the instrumental and Damiano’s vocals 🫶 8.5/10

- Second hot take: I appreciate its political commentary but Gasoline was never my cup of tea. I’m being very generous calling it “political commentary” tho, they could’ve done better. Gets points because Damiano quoting Chaplin during Coachella and yelling “FORA BOLSONARO” on my concert live rent free in my head. Loses points for being too long 7.5/10

- Feel is a banger!!! @ Walk Like a Badass Playlist on Spotify, we have visitors. Also, again, THOMAS ♥️ 8/10

- I love ass shakers and I especially love ass shakers like Don’t Wanna Sleep. AGAIN, THOMAS AND VIC 8.5/10

- I can tell Damiano was drunk as fuck recording Kool Kids, ICONIC. Also super catchy 8.5/10

- Ballad Alert! If Not For You deserves an acoustic version and I will bug everyone until I get it. Automatic 9/10

- Testing my patience along with Timezone is Read Your Diary. It starts great but then it just becomes a Disney Channel song, babes. A good Disney Channel song, but still. Weakest link on the second part of the album. Gets points for the bass line and, again, because I miss being a teenager 7.5/10

- The first song in italian, Mark Chapman GOES. HARD. AS. FUCK. Instrumental is point, Damiano’s vocals are DELIVERING and ngl it hits different in italian. Makes it to my top 5 of the album 9/10

- I already loved La Fine before, so I still love it but it loses a little of it’s charm when put next to Mark Chapman ngl. I have no choice but to rate it 8.8/10

- The biggest Teatro D’ira vibe on the album is Il Dono Della Vita. A very cohesive and emotional song instrumentally, I can’t wait to read the translation. I hope this one makes it to the live setlist so I don’t have beat anyone on their team to a pulp. It also reminds me: I will never forgive them for not doing Ventanni in São Paulo but doing it in Argentina. That was a hate crime against brazilians and THEY KNOW IT. I digress. 9.5/10

- Mammamia on this album feels like seeing a cousin at a family gathering lmao. Still SLAPS tho 8/10

- My top song on Spotify Rewind in 2022 was Supermodel, so I really like it. HOWEVER, it feels very out of place on this album and it doesn’t go as hard now that we have better songs. You can tell this was a “commercial” song because the other ones are so much more well made (even the ones I don’t like as much). Still has a place in my heart tho 7.8/10

- I really loved The Loneliest when it came out and I still love it! But it suffers from the same curse as Supermodel: the new ballads are so much better. All I can think about now while listening is “I hope they don’t pass up If Not For You and Il Dono Della Vita on the live shows so they can play The Loneliest”. I know it’s gonna happen tho, so I resent it a little bit. 8/10

[vegaspeteapologist]

Way too many thoughts

So….. I’ve recently became obsessed with Kinnporsche the series and even more obsessed with Vegas x Pete because  ✨reasons ✨. I’m so obsessed right now, I can’t even breathe. 

So we’ve had our crumbs of Vegas and Pete and my head is running in so many directions that is hard to put my ideas and thoughts in order. I really needed to talk to someone about it, so I dug my forgotten tumblr blog, added another blog and here we are. I do have some things to talk about Kinn and Porsche too, and I needed to share, even if no one reads this. Warning for too many slashed sentences and if you want a beat-by-beat analysis you’re reading the wrong text.

First things first. This was Vegas episode guys. You know it, I know it, there’s no way to even try to deny it, don’t fool yourself. Bible owned every second he was on screen. (my body had an involuntary reaction of recoiling at the vegasporsche kiss, but let’s put a pin in that for now.) He was terrifying, cringy, cute, seductive and all that wrapped in a little blue/green robe of psycopathy. That robe though, if he evil, why he hot? Pete, my man, you’ve got a big storm coming. I’m linking it here so we can look it again.

Source Material, Adaptation and Characterization

Okay, so... I haven’t read the entire novel, mostly because it is a pain in the ass to try to find it right now, but I am in the process of reading it. And even not knowing every plot point that happens in the novel, I think I know enough about the character and what has happened so far, so I’ll give my two cents on it. I’m not an expert on it, so give a little break too. I just think I’m smart, it’s not really true. You’re free to disagree, just don’t be mean about it.

As we all know, KinnPorsche is a Dark Romance Mob story with lots of violence and triggering subjects. I’ve seen people complaining that it is still too dark and some people complaining that is not dark enough. KinnPorsche being what is it, was going to be problematic either way. We also have to consider the medium. Kinnporsche is a very long written novel and, unless we’re talking about multiple seasons, we can’t put every single thing on screen. The choice of not having internal dialog was a good one, in my opinion, because while the novel is a first person narration, changing povs with internal character dialog is not a very dinamic way of storytelling. Some things just don’t translate well.

I personally think it is fine the way it is. Of course they had to make changes to the original story for it to become more marketable and be approved for broadcast.  Filmania’s (R.I.P. Filmania KinnPorsche) version seemed like it was following the story more closely, but we will never have that version, so I don’t think it’s a fair comparison. 

The screenwriters did a really good job in adapting the main story, changing it up so it feels new even to the readers of the original material. I really admire the job they did so far with the character and motivations and all that. If there’s a season 2, I hope they don’t change. My biggest concern is if Daemi decides to write the screenplay for season 2, because... well, sometimes a person can be a good novel writer, but a not a screeplay writer. I think it’s good for writers to have free reign over their creations, but we saw what happened to Fifty Shades of Grey and Fantastic Beasts. So yeah... do what you will.

Another thing I’ve seen going around is the change to the characters, how the screenwriters made them more human, softer. In my opinion it was a good change, because they feels less like a stereotypical caricature. Because the series has a bigger reach than the novel, I fell like they were honest changes. Of course they still live in a hyperstylized version of reality, but it makes them seem more real. The break between the cancelation and the pick of the series by Be On Cloud also gave the actors more time to understand the character and make them their own. I think what we’re seeing each week is Apo’s version of Porsche, Mile’s version of Kinn, etc, and honestly? I like them more than the novel versions so far. 

Consequentially, their actions and interactions with other characters affects the flow of the plot, as we’ve seen already, e.g. KP first time, KP lost in the woods, KP almost having emotional maturity, casino and torture scene, VegasPorsche kiss (barf) and many many more. Some changes were for the better and some were not, but i think the essence is still there. Some episodes are more focused on the romance part, and others are more focused on the crime part and I’m here for it. I’m obsessed enjoying it so far.

Now onto the episode 7 and series general thoughts

Episode 7, Best so far???

Is the statement above provocative? Yes! 

Is it true? I don’t know. I think my KinnPorsche deprivation anxiety shows up when Saturday comes and I think every episode is the best episode. Am I living or just waiting for Saturday to come so I can watch KP

I don’t have a lot of things to say about the episode itself, it was beautifuly shot, the actors were amazing, the storyline made sense, characters’ actions too. I can make a deeper analysis when I watch all of the episodes again. So the title of this section was a bit desingenuous, because all I’m going to talk about is vegas and pete.

I feel like it was in this episode that we were really introduced to Vegas. For those who read the Vegas and Pete parts of the novel, his traits are not new, we know what he’s capable of. That little thing at the end of episode 4 was just a sneak a peak of how messed up he is, but now.. oh boy. The torture scene tells us so much about Vegas and as much about Pete. I tend to forget that Pete is the head bodyguard of the main family and he’s been in that position for a long time, so he’s seen stuff, done stuff. So he’s unfazed by what Vegas does to that man. I think there’s way more to him than being smiley and seemingly bad at his job (eg, his talk to Porsche about heroes and villains. At this moment, I think the authors, mayhaps wanted to show us the most of the characters, if not all, fall somewhere in the gray spectrum of morality.) And if Pete was bad at his job he wouldn’t have become the lead bodyguard for Thankhun, so yeah, baby Pete is not this helpless damsel in distress most people think he is. Maybe the screenwriters had this in mind while writing Pete scenes ep. 7, except, you know, his scenes with Vegas.

Then we go to the second family house scene! I’ve seen theories floating around and I might agree. What if it was all an act to make Porsche want to work for Vegas. To me, personally, I feel like Vegas was trying way to hard on this episode,  so this theory wouldn’t be a strech for me. Starting on the side story actually, him acting like that with Porsche was like a cringe fest for me. Vegas, stop, you’re embarassing yourself. But we’re still going to see what’s going to happen in the following episodes. Was it all a ruse? Or the second family’s house really works like that?

This episode mostly served to show us that Vegas is really good at this crime shit, the scheming little fox. I have no idea what goes in his head at any given moment, and I just love how he just keeps us guessing. Does he really like Porsche or his envy of Kinn and his need to impress and earn his father’s love and respected is is guiding his steps? Who the fuck knows? He looks sincere enough, but... yeah

Now I want to jump to the end of the episode, because I’m a degenerate intrigued by the last scene. I mean, it was beutifully shot, Mile and Apo gave great performaces, but I’m more interested in the start of the scene, just before Kinn takes Porsche’s pants off and at the end of the scene, just before they hug. I wish the focus was in their faces instead of... their guns??? I actually wanted to see their expression, especially during the last couple of seconds, when Kinn buries his face on Porsche’s shoulder and Porsche hugs him back very tight. I was the only one that heard Kinn sobbing? I don’t want to overanalize anything, because I’m not good at it, but man, that was an powerful scene. I think Kinn was overcome by way to many things at that moment, and felt like it was an safe moment to let his emotions out. Porsche arms are his safe space, though they’re still inside Vegas house. Boom, Galaxy Brain. I mean, look at the closing shot of the episode.

So yeah, I think this is most of what was rattling around inside my brain for the last couple of days. If you have something to add, feel free to comment. I really like to hear other people opinions.

[lewisdiary]

Amber Lounge

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

WARNING: 18+, NSFW, explicit, alcohol, drugs, unprotected sex.

Word count: 3,600+

What's a beautiful girl like you doing in a club all by herself?

Another party, this time in Monaco. Your glass, filled with what seemed like a very expensive gin, vibrated to the the loud music playing in the club.

Let loose. You thought to yourself slightly lowering your body-con black dress and searching for familiar faces.

You looked around the VIP party you had been invited to. Ever since your dad's business put him on the "Forbes Richest" list your reputation had skyrocketed along with it. You were an A-lister yourself at this point, everyone longed for your appearance at their events, and as if your life depended on it, you attended. Your social media and events presence had helped you befriend the hottest models and richest rappers in the game and you quite enjoyed the lavish lifestyle.

You and your dad had flown down for the Monaco GP weekend, courtesy of the team principal of the most popular F1 team, Toto Wolff. Surprisingly, it was your first Grand Prix, and probably your last. The hospitality was, as usual, amazing but you found watching cars go around in circles slightly boring.

You took a rather large sip of your gin and started to tune into the beat, your body processing the large quantities of alcohol you had decided to ingest.

Because you hadn't been invited to the Grand Prix by a driver in particular and had failed to engage with any during the "boring" weekend, you found yourself attending the party and having to fit in all by yourself. Making your way through the club you encountered a few drivers, whom you recognised and recognised you, and their respective guests. You knew you weren't an easy face to forget, so it didn't take long before a few people started commenting about your presence.

Making yourself comfortable around the younger squad of drivers, your body swayed to the loud music that hit your ears. Your eyes shut as you engaged with the environment, allowing the melodies and strong base to sway you in.

"You're a Mercedes guest, aren't you?" A familiar voice rang through. Russell. Your eyes opened to look at the briton who stood very close to your ear, making sure his words were getting to you just fine. You nodded quickly, downing your drink before replying to him "Well, my dad is. I just tagged along"

His lips turned into a small smile as he took a good glance at you, leaning closer again he chatted a bit more; "and what did you think of it?"

"Not my vibe" You shrugged jokingly. "This though, is!" You put your empty glass down in a nearby table and pulled George into what seemed like a circle of people dancing, as In Da Club by 50 Cent started playing.

You both started dancing to the song, George's friends joined, and in no time you set yourself in the party ambient, drenching yourself in alcohol as more bottles were brought in at the request of Russell, Latifi, and a few other younger drivers you hadn't gotten your way around.

0 To 100 / The Catch up - by Drake came through the speaker.

This DJ knew his set you thought, before excusing yourself from the crowd that had embraced you. Feeling the need for a switch of environment you made your way to the bar. On your way, you drunkly greeted a few familiar faces, Bella Hadid and what looked like some actors who had come down for the Grand Prix.

Sitting on an empty stool at one of the bars in the Amber Lounge you asked the bartender for a glass of your favourite, gin. Your head nodded to the beat, it pounded hard. You knew you were more than tipsy at that point, but there was no sign of slowing down.

"Ayo! Bring us a bottle of your most expensive Prosecco!" You heard a voice yell through a line of people standing at the bar. A familiar voice.

His voice sang along to the lyrics, you were tempted to turn around to check who was yelling right behind your ear but your motion to turn was interrupted by the glass of gin you had requested being brought to you.

As you fiddled with the purse that hung around your shoulder, looking for your card, the familiar voice spoke again: "I've got that for you. On my tab, Mikey!" This time much closer to you.

You turned to your left, wanting to finally put a face to the voice your alcohol-filled brain didn't seem to recognise. Looking at the 5'9 figure standing next to you, it hit you that: you had failed to engage with any driver during the Grand Prix except for one.

It was more than obvious that you weren't going to be at the Mercedes garage and not meet their prominent stars. Lewis Hamilton and Valtteri Bottas. It was Qualifying day and after an amazing performance from both drivers, Toto, at the request of your dad had introduced you to his prodigies. You had gotten the chance to meet the drivers and congratulate them both for their front-row quali positions.

Bottas was the quiet one, after meeting you and your dad he excused himself to his driver room. Lewis was more of a personality, he knew your dad from reading about him and their conversation seemed to flow from F1 to business to possible future lunch meetings. He glanced at you from time to time, the conversation didn't interest you but he somewhat did.

You knew Lewis was quite the party boy and a ladies man, it suited his champion attitude, so seeing him at the club did not surprise you at all. He had won the Grand Prix you remembered, your mind doing a little backflip to being at the back of the garage and giving him a quick hug after your dad had burst into "here's the man of the evening" compliments.

Your altered system forced you to bite your lip at the thought of Lewis Hamilton standing in front of you.

"Hey, it's you!" His eyes widened at the realisation, his breath smelled like nothing but expensive alcohol. He was drunk as a skunk, and to your liking, he looked extremely hot.

You widened your eyes jokingly, following his cue. "It is I!" you laughed slightly, trying to mock his accent.

"I met you on Saturday, no? Your dad is Toto's friend. What's your name again?" He grabbed the Prosecco bottle that had been handed to him and moved an inch closer to you.

"Yep, that's my dad! Y/N!" you yelled through the gap left between the two of you.

"And what's a beautiful girl like you doing in the club all by herself?" He asked before singing to a few lyrics of the song that currently burst through the speakers that were placed at the bar.

"Enjoying herself." You grabbed your glass and, nodding at him as a thank you for the drink, you stepped down the stool and made your way to the dance-floor. Nervously nibbling on your bottom lip at your choice of words you wondered if a little mystery was enough to keep Lewis interested.

Your hips moved at the sound of Ginza by J Balvin and almost immediately, you felt a body swaying along with yours. Him.

Lewis took a sip of the Prosecco bottle he was meant to take back to his group of friends as his own hips fell in somewhat of a sync with yours, his free hand grabbing your left thigh pulling you closer to his body. His motion felt like a cue for you to bend slightly and begin to grind on the "man of the evening", he deserved a little fun after the hard-work he put out on the track.

Eyes started turning to you two, as your bodies got carried away by the effects of the alcohol you had been consuming. You shrugged out the thought of being watched. If Lewis was comfortable, you were too.

"Y yo hoy estoy aquí imaginando. Sexy baila y me deja con las ganas" Lewis sang along to J Balvin but he sang it so close to your ear, he knew it was meant just for you to listen. His raspy voice sent chills down your spine, you didn't know what the words meant but he made them sound sexy and it empowered you. You chewed on your bottom lip as the DJ switched songs and moving away from him you sipped on your gin, cheering at the former drivers that had put you in the mood to party, who shot you back just as happy glances.

"Come to my table! Let's have some fun!" Lewis' drunk voice echoed through the pounds of your head. He was quick to grab your arm and pull you through the crowd to a more secluded area.

"Y/N everyone!!" He yelled once you approached a group of what looked like more mature and older people. Everyone turned their heads at the two of you and cheered loudly at Lewis' introduction of you, almost as if they were celebrating you tonight.

Daniel Ricciardo. Winnie Harlow. Neymar Jr were some of the faces you were able to recognise at first glance, everyone seemed as slapped as you, some of the girls were high as kites twerking on anything they could put their asses to. Now this was more your vibe.

As the night went on; more drinks came, you danced and enjoyed yourself. Sexual tension between you and Lewis had become hard to ignore and the amount of alcohol in your body had you craving him... all over you.

It's now or never you thought to yourself.

Downing your, God knows what number, cup you looked at Lewis who found himself having fun with his mates, his smile widely spread across is face, revealing his perfectly sharpened canine teeth.

If anything, we blame it on the alcohol.

You mentally thanked the Dj as Wild Thoughts by DJ Khaled started playing. Lewis' eyes darkened as he noticed you approaching him. Your dress hugged your body perfectly, making your figure hard to look away from. In a blink of an eye you had found your groins against one another's grinding on each other to the beat.

As the song went on, Lewis spun you around, having you against him drove him crazy. His hips thrusted your back, his fingers digging the skin on your thigh. He licked his lips at the thought of you, and almost as if he had been waiting for this moment the whole night, his lips met your bare shoulder.

Without ungluing his figure to yours, his tongue slowly traced your neck, sending chills down your spine. "Have I told you how beautiful you look?" He mumbled in between kisses on your bare skin. He didn't have to win you over with compliments, he already had you.

You could feel death glares from Lewis' female guests because of the moment you and the world champion were sharing. You used the uncomfortable stares as your cue to leave, turning to Lewis for the first time in what seemed like a long night, you stared into his - slightly droopy from the alcohol - brown eyes. Your arms automatically swung to his neck, he had yet another bottle in his hand but did not hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist.

"I don't think your friends are enjoying this little show we're putting on" You mumbled, signalling to the ladies who stood in the corner. Your eyes went from staring into his to looking at his lips, your breathing had become intense as you felt Lewis's body awfully close to yours, his member slowly caressing your upper thigh. He licked his lips, noticing how badly you stared. At that point of the night neither of you could contain how much you craved one another.

"They don't have to watch" Lewis whispered, shooting a quick glance at the models who seemed rather upset with his lack of attention on them; back to you, before grabbing your arm and pulling you through a back door that was close to the VIP area you were in, he mumbled: "I know a place".

You found yourself stumbling through the front entrance of a rather fancy building. Lewis lived conveniently close to the Amber Lounge, and in no time, his body guards had escorted the two of you to the penthouse.

Thanking his driver, you made your way into the elevator, and as soon as the doors shut close, Lewis had you pinned against the back wall. His eyes darkened again, his breathing hard over your lips.

Even drunk as a skunk, he looked and smelled amazing.

You watched him bite his lip as he leaned closer, making you crave his lips on yours even more.

It felt like heaven. When Lewis finally crashed his lips on to yours, his body weight causing you to lean further against the wall... it felt like heaven.

You groaned as the kiss didn't last as much as you wished to, the ding from the elevator interrupting it.

You were given no time to take in the surroundings of Lewis' perky home. He placed his arms on your hips and you automatically straddled him, the heat was back like it had never left, your lips were on his yet again. He kissed you so passionately you thought he was compensating from not doing it earlier. He knew his way through his home, and as your tongues met, he quickly found his way through his living room to his astounding suite.

Lewis dropped you on his bed, his eyes filled with lust and hunger. Behind him, the view of Monaco’s nightlife and beach shone through his large windows, the moonlight setting the perfect ambiance for what seemed like an exciting night for the both of you.

Your thoughts were distracted by Lewis’s touch. He had quickly removed his shirt and tossed it aside, his fingers now rested on top of your wet panties, his thumb caressing your clit. His body hoovered over yours, you closed your eyes and tilted your head back, allowing your body to feel Lewis’ movements on your area.

“Look at me” He demanded, his voice as deep as you’d ever hear it. “You’re so wet” He mumbled once your eyes obediently met his. Starving for him inside of you, you pulled your dress up your waist not once breaking eye contact, which caused Lewis to smirk. He attacked your neck, sucking and nibbling on your bare skin, his fingers slid your panties to the side, and with a small bite to your neck he inserted two fingers into you. You gasped at his sudden movement and your walls clenched in pleasure.

“Fuck!” Lewis muttered as he felt your juices coating his fingers. As instinct your knees bent, allowing Lewis to get a better grip of your inside walls. He picked up the pace, thrusting his fingers in and out of you. As your moans started getting louder, you feared Lewis had neighbours so you instantly bit your lip trying to contain your pleasure-filled screams.

“L-Lewis” you stumbled on your words, he knew just how deep to thrust and how much to curl his fingers. You longed for him inside you, your fingernails digging his tattooed back and your head titled back.

“Yes, baby?” He was enjoying watching you squirm in pleasure, his member hardening at the sound of your voice in his room.

"Don't make me wait" you pleaded, not being able to contain your hormones any longer. You wanted him inside you: “I want you. I want you to cum with me”

As if your wish was his command, Lewis’ drunk figure moved his hand away, he stood in front of the bed, and you took the moment to remove your dress, revealing your perfectly shaped and tanned body. Lewis, on his turn dropped his jeans. Both of you stood in awe of one another for awhile, hunger rising. He observed your breasts, and you engulfed the length of his now erect shaft.

You slowly removed your panties and dangled it in front of him, teasing the man that was going to eat you alive, the room smelled like expensive cologne and Prosecco. Lewis jaw hardened, his tattoos made his muscles more prominent... You just wanted to dig your fingernails on his biceps at that stance. He grabbed the panties off your hand and threw them to the side along with your dress and swiftly made his way on top of you. Cupping your breast with one hand, his thumb played with your nipple whilst the other filled his mouth. You lowered your hand and began to stroke Lewis’ cock; as soft and deep moans leaving his throat, your spine shivered.

“I want you so bad” You whispered, placing Lewis right at your entrance, the tip of him rubbing against your wet and now throbbing clit.

“How bad, baby?” He asked, pecking your lips. With his voice in a demanding whisper, you were quick to realise how much of a tease Lewis was, he enjoyed making his victims beg for him. He knew how good he was.

“So… so bad” You moaned into his lips. Just as much as Lewis, you knew what you wanted and you too knew how good you were. Not wanting to waste another second you took charge, placing his shaft at your entrance you helped him penetrate you. Lewis broke the kiss he had engaged in with you, a loud moan leaving his mouth once he felt how tight you were.

It took you a second to adjust to Lewis’ length as he made his way in and out of you, although intoxicated, he noticed your slight discomfort: “Are you alright?” he questioned, his furry brows tightening.

“Shh… don’t stop” You reassured him. With your hand around his neck you brought his head down to yours, you had grown to love his soft lips around the flesh of your neck. At your call, Lewis lowered his weight on to you and steadily picked up the pace. Every thrust brought you closer to an orgasm, his cock rubbing on your perfect spot.

You clenched your walls, digging your nails through his tattooed back. “Fuuuck!” You heard Lewis scream in absolute pleasure at the tightness around him. Lewis’ thrusts became deeper and faster, his forehead had grown sweaty, the room steamy. As he picked up his pace, all you could hear was small grunts from his perfectly sound voice and the clapping of his thighs against yours.

“I’m gonna cum” He moaned through shortened breaths. His warning brought you to your dominance senses. The thought of having Sir Lewis Hamilton begging you to cum extolled your ego. Without thinking twice you shifted your weight to the side, motioning what was well understood by Lewis. It was your turn to be on top.

Lewis, at the realisation that he was sleeping with a woman who knew what she wanted, eagerly obeyed and placed himself closer to the headboard of his king sized bed, not minding that you had interrupted his almost-orgasm.

Feeling good about impressing the seven-time world champion you slowly crawled up to the man that looked at you so hungrily, lust in his eyes only becoming more and more visible. His jaw clenched again as you straddled his waist, his now, thanks to you, cream-full cock entering your threshold again. Another loud moan, this time from the both of you. You bent over slightly, placing your hands on Lewis’ shoulders for support as you started bouncing on him.

“Just like that baby” He sang to you, one hand was tightly wrapped around your neck, and the other slapped your ass as hard as he could bring himself to. It drove you crazy, it made you want more of him in you.

Your breathing had gotten harder and your forehead had met his. “I want you to cum for me” You demanded. Lewis knew he was close to his finish line, but wanted you to finish with him. As you seemed to enjoy, he kept his veiny and robust hand around your neck, giving it light squeezes every time he felt you really deep.

His free hand moved to your clit and you shot your head back in utter pleasure.

“Right there… Keep it right there” You begged, knowing exactly what was going to happen in the next thirty seconds. Lewis, in satisfaction, rubbed on your throbbing bud whilst his own hardened at every movement of yours. His teeth met his bottom lip and his eyes fell shut. You knew he was ready to release, but you weren’t going to let him off easy.

“Look at me” You called. Your ego growing with every sign of obedience from Lewis. His eyes watered a little, you knew you had him, and every thrust brought you both closer to your orgasm.

“Baby…” he whispered, his hand still in circular motions around your clit, his grip becoming weaker “Please” he begged, at no point breaking the eye contact you called for. Pleased with his submission, you mumbled: "Don't stop", and he understood the assignment. You both picked up the pace, his finger on your wet clit in circular motions and you on top of his cock, bouncing up and down.

Before you could say knife you felt your legs shaking, your whole body trembled as you released all your juices on Lewis' hand and cock, a loud moan leaving your throat, your voice echoing in the penthouse.

Sorry neighbours.

And with no time to digest the wonders that Lewis had done to your body, he quickly pushed you off him and you obeyed, his pulsating cock releasing right then and there, on his six-pack filled torso.

You were both breathing heavily, laying on your backs. The comfort of Lewis' bed took you in, your head pounding again from the intoxication, the large amount of alcohol still in your system. He chuckled slightly at the turn of events of that Monaco GP Sunday, his gaze never leaving his ceiling.

Eager and starving for more of you, Lewis found in his deep breaths strength to ask: "When do you leave?"

[solesommerso]

hi sammy!! im so sorry— I accidentally sent this ask to @smaoineamhsalach originally but they kindly sent me in the right direction!

your tessellate fic is gorgeous and it made me think,, what song do you think 20 squad (+ rocker) would put on in the background to… yk 😉😉??

~ the content below is 18+, if a minor or uncomfortable with sexual content please click away, I am not responsible for the media you consume or interact with

Hi love, glad you made it here!! Thank you so much, I freaking love how my tessellate fic came out so I’m glad others are enjoying it <3

Okay getting into everything, I had a tone of fun finding these and would love to hear what others think 😚😚

Chris- I Feel Like I’m Drowning - Two Feet

- something about this screams Chris to me, I think it has to do with the slow build up and heavy bass drop. “All my friends think you’re vicious and they say you’re suspicious” that has Chris written all over it. She gives me the cub that she’d do her best to slowly kill you til you couldn’t take it anymore and just needed her

Luca- Strip That Down - Liam Payne

- I’ve definitely been over that he’s into clubbing with you and showing you off so I can see this fitting him. He’s loves the goofy and non-serious parts of your relationship and this song definitely feels like something you guys could laugh around while also being serious enough to get spicy

Tan- Silver - Nic Nim

- this song has always been my biggest headcanon for Tan and I take no arguments. Everything about it screams Tan to me, it’s soft, sensual, elegant in a way and I just know that man loves to do anything he can for you to make you feel as gorgeous as he can. “And you would acquiesce to anything I wanted” that’s the most Tan line I’ve ever heard

Street- A Little Death - The Neighborhood (we could say Tessellate but this is just such a good song I couldn’t ignore it)

- it’s such a steady beat and low feel (if that makes sense) that Street would totally be all over this song. “Make me feel like I’m breathing, feel like I am human” I think Street can definitely use sex as a way to make himself feel alive or even just to forget about all the bad that he’s had to deal with throughout the day

Hondo- Just A Lil Bit - 50 cent

- Hondo fucking to 50 cent runs rent free in my head and I know that man blares that shit. Any of 50’s songs really, just a lil bit seems like his favorite. “Clothes off, ass up, face down, come on” I’m on my kneesssssss

Deacon- Lips On You - Maroon 5

- I could’ve used so many Maroon 5 songs but this one’s my favorite for Deac. Every lyric is perfect for him, it’s about closeness and I know that an love sto kiss you any place he can reach. “Make you cry for me, when I put my lips on you, I hear your voice echoing all throughout the night for me” this kinky mother fucker would love to hear you crying all night

Rocker- PillowTalk - Zayn

- something about this song makes me think of him, I think it’s the controlling personality he gives me. He’d totally be a pleasure dom. “I love to hold you close tonight and always” he’d totally give you rough ass sex then hold you into his chest telling you how good you were for her and how he would never want anyone else

[lorddistancebarry]

Forest In Chains - Chapter 1

"500, 600, 700, 800, 900.." Garcello counts the cash in his hands after he was given the bag of money. After Tabi fell and didn’t get back up from the half-giant cutting loose and throwing him through the cage into the left most stands of the audience. After the red haze cleared. After basically running with fire and panicking the entire way. He still feels the burns and cuts on his arms, chest and face from Tabi's strikes. The bruising deciding to make itself known by the numbness hidden via his bangs on the left side of his face. The wounds just adding on in a pile especially when the reaper decided to stop fucking around and went all in... his body shivers as the pain compounds and the wind from the September season hits him while he sits on the bench waiting for the bus.

"You barely von that, child." a deep, voice spoke.

Garcello looks up and looks intrigued and surprised at who it belonged to.

"Ruv.." He noted looking up from his money and putting it away, quickly.

"You did not expect me?" He noted with a smirk,"Illegal fight, legal fight. I come to all, vatch them. Sarvente spoke of it being good move. I believe her."

The large Russian man walks over and sits down like a neighbor to Garcello on the bus stop. "But, I can go on many years speaking about her." Ruv noted,"Vhat about you, Young Smoke? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Garcello admits,"Just.. didn't expect to get cut and burned alive like I'm a fuckin piece of meat."

"Equalizers are not to be trifled vith. As gang or as fighters in vrestling circuit." Ruv chuckles,"Go to be undefeated, An equalizer gets sent, test you. It is cycle to see if you are actually good or you are veak bitch."

"Well, was i actually good?" Garcello laughs wryly,"Cause i feel like shit."

"No, you vere lucky, you use your strength. You are shit, but vorkable shit. Trainable." Ruv critiques as he takes out his vodka flask from his jacket. "So.. you're going to train me?" Garcello asked looking up as Ruv drinks. "Vin against Agoti or Vhitty." He directs looking to Garcello stoically,"Then I teach you. I vant to see if your are vorth time."Ruv takes another drink from his flask. Garcello takes out one of his cigarettes and lights it. A green light illuminates at the end as he inhales, steam and smoke coalesces and flares outward into a glowing green, mist smoke hybrid. "I see." He nods once,"And if I am worth your time?" "I train you.break you, see vhat you.. really are. Then ve progress from there."  Ruv stated looking to Garcello with his lone, glossy eye. Almost seeming to look through Garcello and into him.Garcello shivers looking back. Friend? Enemy? "I see." He gets up as the bus is rolling up."Well for now.. I'm gonna get dinner and go home. Thanks for checking up on me." "Anytime. I do not like promising student, be jumped by Equalizer scum." Ruv chuckles with a grin. Garcello pales a bit, "Uh... what?" Ruv looks to the fellow titan with an incredulous stare,"You scraped out vin, but you also humiliated Tabi. Young Reaper vill vant revenge..." The Russian raises an eyebrow,"You did not expect that?" "But you beat some of the Equalizer's asses and you didn't get  jumped!" Garcello points out as the whir of steam leaving the bus' brakes occurs and the door's open. "That is because of grace of God and grace of throwing truck across street." Ruv laughs wryly,"Now go, child. Before you are stuck here." Garcello waves Ruv off before getting on the bus and using his bus card. A satisfied beep of payment as he moves. Knowing the timer, he sits down quickly before the bus moves with a hiss of the breaks lifting from the ground and the bus hovers, flying down the roads and over ground locked travel.He looks out the window at the night sky and at the many lights below of Funk City. Advertisements, cars, city signs, street lights. Garcello lets his mind wander at the light pollution and the sound of hover cars flying by. Its mesmerizing. Watching everything just fly, zip, and zop by. Time could pass as the colors of the city and the energy takes him in. The concept when he was young had never gotten old or changed. The colors of the world, the lifeblood of the people moving, growing and just living. This is why he and his mother had migrated here. Such a decision had to be lived through not just decided on a whim. But this.. This wholesome peace and tranquility at this time. Away from the violence, the darkness and the weight of it all... Was a very big deciding factor. "One day... they will be able to feel this way.." Garcello resolves quietly as he looks down through the window to the city below. "Feel so.. free..." He coos starting to let the pain and tiredness get to him. Starting to fall asleep on the bus and get complacent in his space... until a growling, gurgling reminder makes itself painfully known in his core. The tender flesh of wounds on his abdomen only make it worse. His body went through hell.

It wants food, it needs it. He needs it. NOW. "First.... step... free myself." he grumbles softly as pain burns in his core and it forces him out of falling asleep and dragging on. Sitting up properly and starting to search for a close enough bus stop so he doesn't just add more suffering with a long as fuck walk that only lengthens the burning. Finding one, he pulls on the wire that signals the automated system to stop. The bus stops after a bit before landing with the soft 'woosh' of steam. Getting off the bus, he walks down the streets. Looking up to keep track of his own placement on the road, looking down to light a cigarette to ease some of the pain, looking back up now to search for those heavenly golden arches. After a minute, 6 cigarettes later.. the yellow and red light beams down upon his form. At this point, a soft, barely noticeable film of red covers everything and everyone that walks by and every sensation, smell and taste is heightened. Painfully so. "Finally..." he exhales, dry air hitting a watering, near drooling maw. He walks into the restaurant with a dragging motion of his feet. Garcello looms over to the counter with barely any real patience. People move away and those that don't, go quickly about their order then move. "Hi." he stated, "I would like.. the whole left menu. Twice. Add 6 McChicken meals. Super size it..." "I-is that-that all sir?" A timid female voice asked quietly. "Yes.." he confirms. Not really looking up. "It's going to be disc-discounted. Y-you don't mind right?" She asked.As she asks that, the red film sight as it was dies down a bit. Garcello looks up from the counter. There is only one person that ever asks about discounts in his mind. He looks at the attendant at the counter and sees the fuchsia and sky blue eyes looking up and right back at him from her gaunt, modest face and shivering, small frame. "Rebecca? What are you doin' here?!" He asked actually in shock. "Um.. well.." she shrugs,"I work here. Y/N got me the job, t-they're the manager." Garcello looks on in shock. He tilts his head back with an incredulous stare. Looking for you and seeing you wave a short, polite wave as you're working with the drive through attendants to ensure chaos is handled. Garcello looks back to Rebecca. "Don’t give me a discount girl just charge me normally. I'll treat ya." He says softly. "A-are you su-sure?" "Entirely." He nods handing over 80 dollars. "You were c-close but a bit over. Your price is 72 dollars and 12 cents." "I know." He nods,"Tips. Put the change in your pocket." Rebecca looks sheepish, looking down and shivering."B-but.." "Do it." He commands sternly. Rebecca takes the money, makes exact change and keeps it immediately. Every motion is fast and shaky like an unstable roller-coaster. "T-thanks..." she murmurs shyly poking her fingers together. "When are you two off?" He asked. "In.. 30 mins.." Rebecca looks up at Garcello. Her eyes narrow and she grimaces.."I'll get an ice baggy.. and. I'm going to be frank... I have questions. And if i have questions.. Y/N is going to want answers..." Garcello grinds his teeth,"Alright. I'll wait and we'll talk." Rebecca purses her lips then exhales,"Thank you." Garcello leaves from the counter and to one of the large benches at the furthest back of the restaurant and waits. Waiting, letting time pass as he patiently sits. His core burning with hunger and primal thoughts when the mental shock subsides. The herd is curious.. tell them. "I.. don’t want them in danger..." Lies are over... tell them something... they worry. They fear. "Garcello? Are you good?" You asked concerned, "Rebecca told me about.-" "The bruise on my face. I know." Garcello says as Rebecca comes over with the food trays. "Ice bag, 3 o clock?" Rebecca offers the baggie of ice. Garcello looks to it then takes the bag, wiggles up his cap and bangs, revealing the recently closed gashes, burns and cuts on his chin and face. Your eyes widen from the sight, brow furrowing in concern. "What h-happened?" Rebecca says before you do. You see Garcello is staring at the food, half listening. Mostly tired, dragging on fumes really. "No." You say then look to Garcello,"We talk. After you finish eating. Got it?" "Yes'm"  Garcello nods once then  finally let's his brain drop being alert.Rebecca looks to you with concern, she shakes more from anxiety. "Oh.. don't worry I know." Your reassure,"But overwhelming him is the last thing on my mind. I don't think this is a simple little 'fall' like last time anyway." "You want to h-hear it fro-from his mouth." You nod once and sit down before looking to Rebecca, she nods once with a small smile. "Both of us are signed out, we wont get in trouble with higher ups for over time."She confirms just before- CRUNCH! TEAAAR! SHHRRIIP! Garcello eats like they aren't there, there is no smacking noise. Just an absence of control from tiredness and physically going through hell. Hes going through hoops with food like a functioning sponge with water, trying to replenish what was forcefully squeezed out of him. Rebecca looks to you. "I.. haven't seen him like this.. or well this bad.. Do you think hes..." "I think so." you confirm," Maybe on drugs. But regardless of whatever it is... This cant be swept under the rug. Did you call Annie?" "I-I did." Rebecca nods,"She's coming as fast as possible. I warned her to not run red lights. I was promptly cursed out in German. I responded. She hung up knowing I was right." Garcello stops eating into his 6th McChicken. The man didn't unwrap the wrapper off, the whole ass sandwich is just getting murdered with his teeth. The devouring however stops short at the mention of Annie. With bloodshot eyes, he looks to Rebecca and you. "You.. are all going to be here?" he asked and you shake your head no. "No." You respond,"But. I'm happy you have a brain in there again. Because like it or not.. you're going to tell us what we need to know." Garcello pales in the face for a moment like he saw a ghost, his heart races in terror. His pupils contract as he knows hes cornered now. There is no wiggling out like before.

"We aren't g-going to hurt you, big guy." Rebecca coos softly. "I.. i know its jus'..." Garcello starts but its hard to put words together. "You know you can't bullshit us anymore." You finish looking at the man directly in his face. Garcello looks away looking down at the scraps of paper, unwrapped or just ripped apart making a mess on the table. "Yeah.. I cant." he confirms as Annie rampages in like a crashing tsunami and yells just as loud, scaring customers out of the restaurant. "NOW WHOMST THE FUCK JUMPED GARCELLO?! I'M ABOUT TO FUCKING BEAT THEIR SHIT IN!" Annie yells, her flesh is tinting blue from the glowing blue of her veins spidering from her skin. A sign of her stress before she drinks ‘the liquid’. "You bout to calm so i can explain." Garcello says strictly, unafraid as he’s been used to seeing the entity pour our from her veins and skin. He’s more than used to being attacked as he knows it doesn't like him. But for now it has no power here. Just like his other half. "Then talk." You egg on, as Annie takes a few breathes, grabs a chair and sits in it, the back of the chair acing the table."We're all listening." Garcello bites his lips. His S/O and his best friends, the core of the herd, his herd... now are looking at him like hes wounded. Doesn't help that he is on the outside and inside... ‘Now you gone and done it, Garcy.. but now.. what do you do now?’ He asks himself in his thoughts as he takes a deep breath in. Act as you are, You are alpha. Time to be a man.

[bymoonchild]

Sugarplum Elegy (M)

Pairing | Jungkook x Reader Genre | Fluff, smut, angst / College!AU, FWB!AU, Soundcloud singer!AU, Idiots to Lovers!AU Warnings | Explicit language, hopeless and helpless pining, constipated feelings, lots of smut, rimming, cum-eating, spitting, blowjob, fingering, classroom sex, Jungkook is emotionally constipated but wbk  Summary | You know no bounds nor depth with Jungkook. While your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on Soundcloud. All’s fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while.

Or, Jungkook has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped.

Word count | 17.9k

There’s no greater testament to love than love itself – the sheer vulnerability of being bound to someone emotionally and physically, and the aching process that bleeds into infinity. To love in every sense of the word is to offer your entire heart and place it on someone's bare hands, despite knowing that they might crush it in front of your very eyes.

Maybe love is like a dandelion, pretty during the summer mornings, but upon a huge gust of wind, its petals will be blown away, leaving its heart barren, abandoned. Given your past relationships, forming a fresh new ache and vulnerability for yet another person frightens the fuck out of you.

So when you wake up to a Jeon Jungkook beside you, lulled by the quiet sound of his breathing, your heart fizzles in your chest. It’s a no-strings-attached agreement that you two have decided on at the beginning of the year, but it’s still a feeling you can’t quite get accustomed to, especially when the first thing you see in the morning is his peaceful sleeping face, unless he’s spooning you, in which his warm breath will tickle the back of your nape. It’s weird because it feels nice, feels so right.

It's been six months since you two started the whole fuckbuddy agreement, yet you still can't get used to how warm Jungkook is, always so warm, as if the sun has chiselled its way into every single pore of your body, softening and melting your sharp edges. While his body still sends zaps down your spine, your mind registers that you’ve grown to adore the heat of his body when your cold feet always find themselves tangled together with his under the sheets.

He’s not much of a morning person, but sometimes, you’d wake up to him staring at you, caressing every detail of your face with his eyes, sunlight glittering golden in them, and smiling like a fool (an adorable one at that) at your groggy and sleepy self, as though your crusty morning face turns him on because it often leads to the continuation of the previous night’s copulation before scrambling to class.

You know no bounds nor depth with Jeon Jungkook. If anything, you’ve concluded that you’ve never met a person quite like him before, like the cosmos has moved for this concurrence to be possible.

Each new day brings a discovery about your fuckbuddy which keeps you on your toes, but nothing can ever beat the dorky Jungkook who becomes a freak in the sheets as he pounds mercilessly into you or pulls your hair as he buries himself deep inside the hilt of your throat. Nothing beats the feeling of having his warm body pressed up against yours as he whispers sweet nothings that caress and fan against your skin like invisible marks that will always be there, burning from deep within.

You hear Jungkook humming softly from behind you, comfortably settled on your bed while you’re hacking away at your laptop, rushing to finish your paper. You normally can’t work with noise or with another person in the room, but his humming falls quite pleasantly on your ears.

“Bub, you almost done?”

You turn around and spot Jungkook in only a pair of sweatpants, flaunting the ripples of his toned chest and abdomen. You have no idea why he even bothers wearing pants when you both know that he’s going to take off them later.

“Getting a little impatient, Pingu?”

A little pout plays on his lips, “No, it’s just that… You’ve been at it for hours and I’m kind of sleepy.”

“O-Oh, have you been you waiting for me? Why don’t you get ready first?”

“Actually, I thought we could, you know, just sleep tonight,” he smiles sheepishly, the curve of his cheek squished from where he is lying down on his pillow.

“You mean like…?”

“You’re tired, aren’t you?”

You don’t reply, merely shrugging your shoulders, but the bags under your eyes are an easy giveaway.

“Then hurry finish your work and get your ass here. My arms are kind of lonely here and it’s cold.”

You can’t deny that Jungkook looks so gorgeous, so tempting, waiting for you with that familiar tender gleam in his eyes as he pats down at the empty spot beside him.

“You’re cold? But you’re literally my personal heater,” you laugh, tinges of amusement dancing in your orbs, as you relent, slipping under the sheets beside him.

Chuckling softly, he leans in and ensures that there’s as little space between your bodies as possible from head to toe, until the tip of his nose is brushing against yours. He playfully throws a leg over yours, pressing the strong cleave of his chest up against you and his body heat immediately engulfs you, sated and warm.

You feel like there’s a fire in you, made of soft, satin embers.

You smile, looking up at Jungkook’s pretty visage. Your night lamp casts a dim shadow on his face that insinuates his long, feather-like eyelashes, brushing the bone of his structured cheeks. He holds back smiling like the fool he is, busy drinking in the sight of you and the closeness of you, but that roseate flush that blooms over his face betrays his heart’s desire, spreading across the bridge of his nose and cheekbones. Pretty.

If stars could take human form, they’d look a lot like Jungkook.

“Want to hear a bed pun that Jin-hyung bombed on us today?”

You hum in response.

“Never mind,” he shrugs, his eyes starting to crinkle up at the corners “It’s kind of sheety.”

“I fucking hate you!” You let out a whole-hearted laugh, doubling over to shove a pillow at Jungkook’s chest, “Don’t know why I put up with your dumb ass.”

“You love my dick!”

And Jungkook is one hundred per cent correct.

He likes to sleep naked, which is something you don’t have a problem with. At least he has the decency to throw on a pair of briefs, but it doesn’t particularly help cover with his morning woods.

You’re about to leave for class, but something uncontrollable and searing stabs at your belly when your eyes land on his taut, golden stomach, the faint line of hair trailing south towards the Calvin Klein imprint and the noticeable boner pressing against it.

As the soft light filters in through your curtains, casting shadows on the gentle slopes of Jungkook's face, a tempting idea pops into your mind and you drop your bag onto the floor, crawling right back into bed.

Jungkook is a guy who adores surprises and you’re someone who likes catering to his interests, though what you adore most is catching him totally off-guard and watching him writhe helplessly under you, for all the times you woke up to him in between your thighs. You find joy in taking care of him as your mouth takes the reigns, slobbery and messy with saliva dribbling down your chin.

Pushing the quilt away off the bed, your eyes take their time to map his body, before your fingers start to trace down the line of hair leading towards his clothed cock. You lean forward to press a kiss to the muscular ridges of his taut abdomen, and then down his happy trail, before slowly mouthing over his bulge and lastly, to his toned, honeyed thighs.

Fuck, you love his thighs – in fact, you've spent too many nights thinking about riding them and keening out loud when he makes your fantasies come true.

His cock springs free when you tug his briefs down and its stiffness almost hits you in the face. He's as rigid as always, tip angry and glossy with arousal and veins prominent in his shaft and you take a few seconds to admire the veins that artistically run up his length like rivers along a woodland. You love his dick, nobody has stroke game like Jungkook and you’ve never been more exhilarated when condoms were thrown out of the picture after you two agreed to be exclusive.

When you wrap your hand around his dick, the soft skin feels like velvet, enticing you to press an open-mouthed kiss to the tip. Body still weighted from sleep, Jungkook's breath involuntarily hitches when you settle in a slow rhythm, hand wrapping around the base of his dick, moving it in tandem with the bobbing of your head.

Slowly, he begins to stir awake at your ministrations, hand bringing up to rub his eyes unconsciously. When he manages to peel his eyes apart and looks down at you through the tops of his eyes, with his dick in your mouth, he groans loudly.

“Morning, Pingu.”

Coyly, you duck your head, running your tongue along the side of Jungkook’s shaft, keeping a firm grip around the base. When you return to the tip, you suckle hard with your lips, lapping over the slit feverishly. You relish the weight of his warm dick in your mouth and it’s when Jungkook starts to pant heavily with eyes rolled all the way back, his muscles straining as he rolls his hips upwards for more that you know you’ve succeeded.

“Fuck,” he knots his fingers through the dark tufts of your hair in pleasure, “I’d kill to wake up to this every day.”

“Well, today’s your lucky day.”

Leaning backwards, you pull Jungkook’s legs up higher and spread open them. You give his ass a little slap before further spreading his asscheeks and he jumps in shock when you spit obscenely into his ass.

Right after you got into the agreement, you two discussed each other’s kinks. You’ve always thought rimming was hot and Jungkook was eager to experiment with you, saying that it’s literally every guy’s dream come true to have his ass eaten out.

Your first lick is a broad strip from his perineum to his entrance, stopping there to suckle lightly at his rim. The contact sends trembles to course throughout Jungkook’s body and he gasps out shamelessly, closing his thighs instinctively and trapping your head between them. When your tongue laps at his tight, little tunnel, pressing little kisses to his rim, he arches his back out of his reaction, eyes clouded with lust.

You can’t help but tighten your fingers around his ass, kneading it greedily as drool and spit drip from the corner of your lips. At this, his mouth falls open in soundless moans, soft whimpers drawn from the back of his throat, muscles rippling beneath his skin.

Jungkook tastes better than you remember, though the only thing you can focus on is how helpless he is writhing underneath you and the protrusion of his arm veins as he clutches the sheets firmly from the interminable sensation.

You see his hand reach out for his dick that's throbbing between his thighs, aching for any kind of friction. The darkness in his eyes is enough to send a punch of heat straight into the pit of your gut.

"Touch yourself and you can say goodbye to coming,” you slap his hand away.

He throws his head in frustration, eyes shut and lips red and parted, "But–"

"Let me help you."

A growl is ready at the back of his throat when you lightly scrape your teeth on his rim, spit dripping down your chin, trailing past his balls and down to your bedsheet. Laundry Senpai would be out for a field day.

While your tongue continues to lick at his rim, back to his balls and then to the very tip of his dick, your right hand finds itself wrapped around the thick girth of his dick, finally giving it some attention. You begin to milk him, stroking him again and again and helping him to chase his orgasm. Perched on either side of your face, Jungkook feels his legs grow weak as you continue to jerk him off, revelling in each wanton sigh and moan that slips from your lips.

Out of pleasure or lack of control, you don’t oppose when his hips start to rut against your face as he chases his high. Instead, you slacken your jaw and lap at his puckered hole faster, prodding at his entrance with the tip of your tongue, knowing that he isn’t going to last much longer.

When Jungkook finally comes, you lap at his cock thirstily, taking in every drop of cum. He looks so fucked out, chest heaving up and down as globs of white cover your lips and chin, but you continue to lick the cum, swirling around his head. You gaze up at Jungkook and sees that lower lip is slightly swollen from where he’d been biting down on it, slightly red, and you desperately yearn to feel the soft and warm skin beneath the pad of your finger.

He pats your hair with a dreamy smile and your heart stutters at the way his eyes crinkle so prettily no matter how gently he’s smiling.

Your room is suspended in a beautiful haze, the morning air sitting like a blanket around you two, alongside the sounds of your breathing.

“Cute,” you whisper, pressing little kisses along the length of his dick.

Heat ruptures across Jungkook’s face, a visible flush radiating on his rounded, apple cheeks, and works its way to the bridge of his nose.

“You did not just call my dick cute,” he raggedly inhales.

“Shit, I gotta run – have class in like,” you ignore his complaint, checking your watch, “Fuck, 20 minutes.”

“Hey, take it back! My dick is not cute,” he puffs, folding his arms.

“Dude, I legit just woke you up with a blowjob and this is the thanks I get.”

“Just kidding…” He smiles sheepishly, taking your hand into his, “So I’ll see you tonight? We’re having dinner at the new Italian place, right?”

“Of course, can’t wait to watch you have an overdose of cheese.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes playfully, but the glint in his eyes screams that he can’t wait.

“Anyways, you better get up – you’re going to be late for your 11am.”

“I’m skipping,” his lips curl up into a smirk and even in his sleepy state, he still knows how to be a brat, “Gotta help Yoongi-hyung with something.”

"You're up to something no good, huh?”

With a sparkle in his eye, he smiles, "That I am."

You chuckle and press your hand against Jungkook’s cheek, fingers brushing against the scar on his cheekbone, intending to pinch his cheek, but he beats you to it and quickly turns his face into the curve of your palm. He then presses a kiss to it, painting his smile against the wrinkles of your skin and your heart ricochets in your chest.

“I—See you, Pingu.”

Another sleepy bunny smile adorns the stretch of his lips, “See you later.”

You don’t realise that you’ve been carrying a smile on your face ever since you left your apartment until your friend Jiyoon breaks you out of your trance by telling you that you look like a clown. Waking up to Jungkook by your side is such a domestic concept and honestly, that should intimidate you. Instead, all you feel is a blooming of butterflies in your stomach.

There are several traits and abilities of Jungkook’s that he prides himself on. He’s intelligent in a lot of ways and in some ways not. He’s socially aware and knows when to be quiet or loud. Yet, he has always assumed an air of detachment and aloofness, making people and sometimes even himself believe that he has an extra layer of skin, invisible and almost impenetrable.

He is, nevertheless, just a little shier with his words and doesn’t open up easily. Even when he does, he still walks on seashells around his closest of friends. He can’t help it – it’s just his nature and who he is. However, people who know him should know that he’s all bark and no bite. He’s much softer than he looks – and his heart is fragile and afraid.

Admittedly, he is a hopeless romantic at heart although the pursuit of pure, unconditional love is found dead in a ditch and he will rather die than admit that he still believes that he’ll hear bells when he crosses path with his soulmate.

Now with you in the picture, he really doesn’t know anymore. It’s unclear how this arrangement started, it’s a nebulous concurrence of fate… alongside the need to fulfil sexual desires with no strings attached.

You two met at a school event through Yoongi, your friend who’s a music production major and also the campus radio DJ, and while the three of you hung out a couple of times, you’ve never really established a friendship with him.

It’s hard to pinpoint the exact moment where it all started – how you fell into each other like this, how you grew to become addicted to the crash of his body against yours, fitting into the little crooks of each other’s life. It worked so well the first time that the second time was kind of a given and soon, both of you came to some sort of unspoken agreement that the next time you come into contact would result in both tangled in bed.

So there isn’t such an exact moment when things unavoidably shifted in your life and trying to find the exact moment that unchained everything would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. It’s just that you can’t quite remember sex feeling so good with anyone else.

Still, you wouldn’t count on him being entirely transparent with you.

He’s still an enigma, never quite settling, and consequently, neither could your so-called agreement. The line has blurred far too much for comprehension. But it’s simply the beautiful contradictions that make Jungkook so Jungkook, someone you may never quite understand, but desperately want to, from somewhere deep in your bones. All you know is that your heart somehow lurches whenever he’s near, that his gaze still makes you shy especially when you’re under him at his mercy, and that re-watching (yet) another Marvel film with him on your bed brings comfort to your heart.

It’s not fair how Jungkook can make you feel like you’re six feet under what you assume must be somewhere between lust and adoration, when he says the dumbest of things like, “96% of guys masturbate.”

“Then what about the other 4%?”

He deadpans with a casual shrug of his shoulders, “The other 4% don’t have hands.”

You throw a pillow at his smug face, but even if he says the dumbest things, you like to listen to the timbre of his voice, how it rolls over the vowels like honey smothering biscuits. You should hate the way he makes you bare your neck so easily, makes you quiver and tremble at the slightest touch, yet your stomach still coils no matter how hard you try to push away the hummingbird heart residing in your chest.

“I don’t know why I even tolerate you.”

“Thanks, love you too.”

Questionable words like these have been thrown around casually, the harrowing weight often settling uneasily in both of your stomachs. Too many unspoken words fill the air and they’ve been lingering in the air for some time now. While it’s undeniable that you two share something, where feelings are mutually understood without having to say much, life isn’t a bed of roses and things will happen when the universe wants them to.

“Noted with thanks.”

Staying over wasn’t initially part of the deal in fear of jeopardising the friendly arrangement, but as time goes by, when sex becomes a daily thing and Jungkook starts coming over more often and later in the night, breaching the fuck buddy etiquette starts to matter less.

The dick appointments are always at your place because he proclaims that he loves your bed and it’s ten folds comfier than his. You can’t seem to fathom why because you find his bed equally comfortable to sleep on and it probably smells much nicer than yours, mixed with the brew of his musky scent and peach shampoo.

Now, almost half of the things in your apartment belong to him including his favourite fabric softener, just because he can. He makes sure that he’s over every Friday at least to do laundry and has even persuaded you to entrust all laundry duties. Friends with benefits etiquette? Not in this household.

You smile at the toothbrush holder, before picking out yours, which has its place next to Jungkook’s red one. It’s just moments like these where you know that he’s undoubtedly carved himself a rightful space in your life like there was a space reserved just for him. Becoming a constant beyond the late-night dick appointments and one of your best friends, someone you text and exchange dank memes with on a daily basis. Someone you trust.

You adapt to him quickly, and he accepts you unconditionally. In an odd way, it’s like he’s always meant to be by your side. It’s like the cosmos knew. And slowly, it’s as if he’s never gone and the mutual fear of overstaying your welcome or the fear of letting yourself get too comfortable with each other has dissipated. Now, it gets harder not to think about how his cologne tends to rub off on you even hours after sex and it gets harder to ignore the mixture of scents that lingers in your room.

Stepping out of the shower, you hum quietly to yourself and see Jungkook engrossed in playing a game on his phone. When you continue to hum, Jungkook drops his phone and stares at you like a deer caught in headlights.

“W-What are you singing?”

You chuckle, “Whoa, was I that bad?”

His face is a chiaroscuro, the right side illuminated from the lamplight, the left in soft shadow. But there’s something indescribable about his expression that you can’t seem to decipher as he stares at you guardedly.  

“N-No! I’m just ¬– what song is that?”

“It’s Euphoria,” you dismiss him casually, “By GCF. He’s a new Soundcloud singer whom I just discovered the other day. Heard of him before?”

“E-Er, no?”

“What’s with your reaction?”

“N-Nothing! I-It’s a nice song I guess.”

You beam, “Yeah, I think he just started his singing career, but I really like his voice. Makes me feel all soft inside.”

“Soft, huh?” A teasing smirk inches its way onto the edges of Jungkook’s lips, “I thought you only like listening to rap music.”

“Geez, can’t I have a diverse taste in music?”

“No.”

“Bitch,” you roll your eyes in faux annoyance, “Remind me to send you some of his music.”

“I-It’s fine… I can just search it up myself.”

You grab your phone, ready to unlock it, “No wait, let me just play his song—”

Whatever you’re about to say is lost when Jungkook reaches for you and cuts you off with a kiss. Heat sinks low in your belly when he catches your lower lip and tugs at it roughly. He rests his hands onto the tapers of your waist, before going south to cup over the curve of your ass, causing you to drop your phone on the bed. A deep spike of pleasure pulses in his abdomen when your eyes widen, a soft sound passing through your lips that only he has the privilege of hearing.

That night, the sex is a little different.

Jungkook roams languid kisses everywhere – your lips, jaw, the column down your throat, clavicles and down the valley of your breasts and you let him trace love notes all over your skin.

It’s a feeling that you two are used to. The sound of his pants being unzipped as he unravels you, your tongue feeling heavy with his. The crescent marks of your nails on Jungkook’s back as he thrusts into you with unbridled ardour, never losing eye contact with you. The breathy praises on your skin till it’s almost scalding, like pure propulsions of energy looping into stellar spaces, burnished suns flaring radiant.

Jungkook coaxes sounds out of your mouth like he’s tugging at your heartstrings, drawing out symphonies and melodies trapped beneath your tongue, until the room echoes with a mixture of curses and moans, until there’s nothing but Jungkook and only him on your mind.

You don’t fall asleep immediately that night.

While Jungkook’s face is tucked into his pillow, lips slightly parted, and breaths calm and soft against your sheets, you comb your fingers through his hair, liking how his locks feel soft like rose petals between your fingers.

When dawn arrives and slowly paints the world a pale rose and the noise of the city is muted outside, you bury your face into the dips of his shoulder blades as your mind continues to swirl, absorbing Jungkook and everything about him. How he smells like the smell of clean linen and peach, a light musk that sits heavy and familiar, how you can’t shake the phantom smell of Jungkook’s cologne on your skin.

In all honesty, it hurts. You’ve never felt this susceptible to someone’s gaze or touch and it fills you with nothing but with further want for him.  

Friends with benefits aren’t meant to be like this. They aren’t supposed to have such tenderness laced into every touch. But the thing is, you’re well aware that you don’t just treat Jungkook as just a fuckbuddy, not when your body reacts to his touches like this, not when static seems to build beneath your bones every time he smiles at you with stars coruscating in his eyes.  

There are times you’ve thought about how maybe, just maybe he feels something different about you, like the way you feel about him, but you’re probably projecting your own feelings onto him, so you dismiss it without further thought.

You could make a home in the hollow of his hold. But for now, you’d just let the rise and fall of Jungkook’s chest lull you to sleep.

[you] [16:35] hello are you open for business today [16:36] i would like to make a dick appointment

[Big Dick Dude 👅] [16:36] hi yes, welcum [16:36] we have a slot from 8pm all the way till 9am the next morning [16:37] we provide dinner too. any preference?

[you] [16:37] i would like some nuggets with a Dick on the side [16:37] mega upsize for the Dick please  

[Big Dick Dude 👅] [16:37] Large size it is. okie dokies your reservation has been confirmed [16:37] n.e ways, want to hear a joke about my dick? [16:37] nevermind, it’s too long

[you] [16:38] sorry can i cancel my appointment? i don’t remember asking for a lame willy  

Jungkook always delivers and you’re not just talking about nuggets, bubble tea, and his Big Dick on the side. He always delivers, whether it’s his promises or fleeting remarks that you don’t even remember him saying. After months of being physically intimate with him, you learn that Jungkook is everything you thought he would be, and at the same time so much more and it piques your curiosity.

You want to learn more about him, unravel him from inside and out, until you are confidently acquainted with the exact colour of his eyes, the sound of his laughter, and the little antics that just make him so charming and endearingly dorky – everything that makes him Jeon Jungkook.

“Strawberry milk tea for me, 100% sugar because why not, and a green milk tea with pearls, 30% sugar for my lady.”

Static gathers at your fingertips as Jungkook’s fingers brush against yours when he hands you your drink.

You ignore his attempt to flirt, “You remember my order?”

“Of course,” he says a little too quickly and regrets immediately, “I-I mean, it’s a simple order… Pretty sure my one braincell can at least remember it.”

Smiling softly, you pull him into an embrace, while he rests his chin on the top of your head, taking advantage of the extra centimetres in height he has on you.

The light coming from your bed lamp allows the brush of his lashes to be shadowed onto the perfectly sculpted apples of his cheeks. From where you’re standing, you swear you can see a little blush making camp on his cheeks and you’re smacked once again with heavy realisation that your fuckbuddy is unbelievably ethereal.

Not that you aren’t already aware of it, but Jungkook staring at you with such bright adoration in his eyes, the light scar etched on his cheek, which screams to be smooched, and the small mole on the side of his neck that has become your favourite spot to kiss, is really something else.

“Fucking date me already, bro,” you mutter under your breath as you nuzzle your face into his chest.

His warm eyes bore imploringly at you and you tense up almost immediately, feeling hot like there is a fire deep in your bones, washing your senses away. The thought of him agreeing to your casual tease crosses your mind as a fleeting thought, but it dies when Jungkook just brushes it off with a chuckle.  

“Only if you pay me.”

“You fucking wish.”

A reciprocal laugh escapes from Jungkook’s lips, but he thinks his heart has just done a pirouette at the sight of your smile.  

“So how was your day?” He whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear even though it doesn’t fall, just because he just likes touching you, because he wants to be near you all the time, “Hope it was as nice as my ass.”

You scoff, but there’s an amused smile on your face, “I actually don’t know if you’re being truly genuine or sarcastic.”

“Well, it depends on whether you think my ass is nice or not.”

“Hmm… Well, it’s not that nice as Taehyung’s… I’ll give it a 6 or 7.”

“What the fuck?” Jungkook gasps out loud dramatically, “Right in front of my salad? Take that back! You’re not allowed to talk about my friend’s ass in front of me.”

“Why can’t I?”

“Because I… You just can’t! That’s just… the bro code!” He shakes his head furiously and the little pout starts to form on his lips doesn’t escape your notice.

“That literally doesn’t make sense.”

“Bub... Do you really think his ass is better than mine?”

Despite the crude nature of his question, there’s a certain softness laced in his voice. He clutches your palm, his thumb idly gliding up and down the back of your palm so tenderly that it has the tips of your ears warming.

“Jeon Jungkook, are you jealous right now?”

“What? Of course not!”

“Well, I mean Taehyung does have nice fingers too, but I like yours more.”

“O-Oh, okay,” he mutters under his breath, continuing to rub circles into your palm silently.

A laugh leaves your lips as you pad over, “Dumbass. When I say that you have nice fingers, it means that I want them. In me.”

You’re grinning at him and he feels like his heart has grown fists because his sternum feels like it’s being battered.

“Fuck, your mouth is a sin.”

“You love it though,” you whisper sultrily, before placing your hand dangerously near his crotch and then dragging a finger over the length of his cock through his pants.

“Hell yeah I do.”

It’s whispered, barely louder than a breath and it’s more of a confession than Jungkook ever wants to admit.

Leaning in, his breath brushes over your bottom lip as he curls an arm around your neck to pull you closer. He leans forward, nose brushing against yours before he plants a kiss on your lips.

Your lips continue to dance over each other, heart skipping a beat whenever Jungkook sucks on your bottom lip. It’s a soft kiss, but also a hard fall, like plummeting a million miles an hour through time and space to land straight in the middle of heaven, the gates opening to reveal a beautifully blossoming feeling of unparalleled warmth and joy.

Maybe it’s against Jungkook’s better judgement when he presses another chaste kiss to the space between your eyes. Maybe that in itself is a very poor decision, because his feelings suddenly threaten to consume him completely.

Because in the deep tresses of his mind, he thinks he can hear bells ringing.

You can’t breathe, hands fisted in the front of Jungkook’s shirt, dizzy, lightheaded and hot all over. His teeth scrape over your bottom lip, which nearly makes your knees give out, and you barely have time to draw in a ragged breath before he greedily dives into the sensitive part of your neck for more. You tilt your head back, giving him free rein, and grip his bare shoulders so hard that you know it’ll leave red marks on his skin. You strangely like the idea of that.

He begins to nibble the pulse beneath your jaw fervently, eyelashes fluttering against the hinge of your jaw, till he sees a bruise beginning to blossom, his hand sneaking up your skirt. You try to break away from the pursuit of his kisses, but Jungkook is undeterred, planting kisses and nibbles down your jaw and to your breasts, prompting the smouldering lust crackling over your skin to only intensify.

Shuffling to the edge of the bed, his eyes rest on your features as you hover over him. Your fingers reach out to grab at the waistband of his pants and underwear, yanking them so that they pool around his ankles, before taking his dick in your hands.

You’re about to wrap your lips around the head of his cock when Jungkook cuts you off.

“Wait, how do you know that Taehyung’s fingers are nice? Do you stare at them?”

Your actions come to a halt and you let out a loud sigh in annoyance to mask the way your chest fills with so much fondness that it oozes out of every crevice of your body at Jungkook’s confused expression with his big doe eyes.

“Jeon Jungkook, I’m literally about to suck your dick. Does it really matter?”

Something cracks in his demeanour and he snaps after that. You can’t even remember how many times you fuck that night. Right after you suck Jungkook off, he’s hitched you up and pressed you up against the wall and fucked you rough and fast, just the way both of you like it. The second time is slower and less frantic. He’s stripped you of your clothes and thrown you onto the bed and pounded into you, slow and deep, until you’re keening and begging for more.

By the end of the night, you’re sore in so many places, with bruises painted all over your body like an artwork, and Jungkook is knocked out cold next to you, a heavy arm draped across your waist. As you relish in his warmth and weight beside you, the heightened thrum of your pulse continues to be cognisant at the under of your jaw, screaming in the distance.  

Three weeks into discovering GCF’s music, it’s become your life goal to never shut up about him. For someone who is a sworn rap fanatic (which is how you became friends with Yoongi because god, his taste in music is superior and he himself spits fire with no mercy), you’ve strangely become obsessed with GCF’s poignant music and his thematic exploration of love. It’s come to a point where you have every single one of his songs downloaded onto your phone and you visit his Soundcloud page every day without fail to check if he’s uploaded a new track or replied to comments.

There’s just something about his voice that manages to worm its way directly into your chest, where it’s festered into something so captivating that you can’t help but feel a meadowsweet summer warmth clamouring around your heart with giddiness on its heels. His voice has a certain sweetness, a softness that you could sometimes feel in the pit of your belly if you listen to him with your eyes closed.

You’re just a teensy bit butthurt that he hasn’t responded to your comment from last week – your really long and sweet comment about how much you could listen to him sing forever.

It also doesn’t help that Jungkook isn’t supportive of your fangirl antics and he proves it once again with the judgmental look he’s shooting you from your desk, while busying himself with a bowl of cereal at 2am. You’re unsure whether you should be the one judging him but then again, he is Jeon Jungkook after all.

"Why can’t you crush on an idol? You don’t even know how this dude looks like.”

You frown, pressing your lips together, “Stop being a hater. Isn’t that just the beauty of an underground artist?”

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook replies with an air of nonchalance, “Okay, but what if he’s a serial killer? Or a 50-year-old creep?”

“Chill dude, he said somewhere that he’s a college kid. That’s why he takes quite long to put out new releases.”

“He said that?”

“I think I read it somewhere in the comments,” you shrug, stealing another mouthful of Jungkook’s cereal just because you can, “Why?”

He ignores your question and snatches back the spoon in faux irritation, “So what else do you know about him?”

You shrug, staring at him a moment longer, “Nothing much, except for the fact that he’s hopelessly in love with someone because his songs are fucking sad and romantic, but you know what? I absolutely dig that aesthetic.”

Jungkook feels like his soul is being looked into, and for a moment there, he genuinely thinks that you’re tricking him into admitting the truth. It scares him to think that he might have been transparent and vulnerable with his feelings. But even if you suspect anything, if you’ve noticed any sort of hints in the way Jungkook acts or the things he says, you don’t show it.

“He is?” He manages to squeak out, eyes glued on his now empty bowl.

“What’s with you questioning everything about him?”

“Nothing… It’s just… this guy seems dodgy. He doesn’t even sing that well. And what does GCF even stand for? Greatest common factor?”

“Oh my god, shut your nerdy trap!” You gasp, mouth agape, “And who are you to say that? You can’t even sing!”

You hit him with your pillow, but Jungkook, being the all-rounded guy he is, deftly catches it with a tight smile, “Remember that time when you tried singing to Justin Bieber – I swear I thought my mirrors were about to shatter!”

This only prompts an eyeroll from him as he’s brought back to the memory of him purposely screeching at the top of his lungs when you blasted Justin Bieber.

He doesn’t like lying to you, but he hasn’t quite decided on how he wanted to break the news to you. Does he simply just confess to you one day about him GCF all along? That all his songs are about you? That the person he’s hopelessly in love with… is you?

He doesn’t know, but he knows that he’s fine with whatever he has with you now. It’s an easy habit, the way you immediately scooch over to your side of the bed to make room for Jungkook. It’s just as much of a habit the way he immediately throws an arm over your waist, sturdy chest against the small of your back and legs entangled for extra heat The cuddle fest resumes, but when Jungkook presses his nose against the exposed skin at the base of your neck and sighs quietly, you realise that something’s off.

“You okay, Pingu?”

“Mmm fine.”

Your eyes are patient, fond, as you turn over to trail your fingers down his face, over the apple of his cheek and the corner of his mouth, brushing gingerly over his lower lip.

“Want to talk about it?”

Closing his eyes, he sighs, “Nah, it’s okay.”

He could not be content with the joyful contemplation of your eyes and your golden heart. Not even for a second could he let this love dwell upon his senses– because he knows he’s going to let you down at the end of the day.

The apartment falls quiet. Within the moment of silence that falls between you two, you think about how you two have shared so many silences, the quiet and steady presence of unwavering and unconditional support – that you no longer feel the need to fill them up with conversation. So you allow yourself to enjoy his sweet presence, the peachy smell of his shampoo, and the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“What are you thinking about, Pingu?”

There’s a beat of a pause that lingers between you, the gleam in the caramel of his eyes sparkling with something akin to lust as he attacks your neck with a violent raspberry to your neck.

“You.”

Your heart leaps at your throat and you feel warmth simmering under your skin, sitting high on your cheeks.

“What about me?” You ask, skimming your fingertip down Jungkook’s chest.

Shivering slightly at the contact, the smallest of smirks inches into the corner of his mouth, “The number of bad things I want to do to you.”

Your lips curl up, resembling his as you whisper breathily into his ear, “Want to know what I’m thinking about?”

“Hmm?”

Your eyes are filled with mirth, a little sinister, mostly playful, inviting him to inch closer and you reach for the crook of his neck, lips coming into contact with his sensitive spot that you’re very familiar with. He moans when he feels the light suck of your teeth and the curve of your evil grin forming against his skin.

“How much I want you to do those bad things to me.”

And Jungkook’s heart stutters in his chest, his head spinning at the propinquity, the intimacy of it all, and the love in his chest blossoming and spreading throughout his body.

Jungkook is well aware of the fact that he is indeed an idiot. Him and feelings? An irreconcilable combination. He’s accepted this. While he’s decent in his grades and talented in many areas, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing with you. His hands have minds of their own whenever you’re near and his mind goes short-circuit. Especially when he sees you with a dude he doesn’t recognise at the study lounge.

Something heavy and uncomfortable settles in the pit of his stomach at the sight. He’s always been mildly aware that you have a life outside of catering to his every whim, but this is the first time he’s been slapped in the face by the fact.

Squinting his eyes, he realises that you’re sharing your earpiece with the unidentified dude and he becomes super vigilant of your little mannerisms – how your face is lit up as you’re laughing and how your shoulders are brushing against the dude’s too much to his liking.

You’re always smiling when you’re with him. He’s not quite sure he’s seen the expression slip from your face, laced in the curve of your mouth and the crinkles of your eyes. It's another little detail, just one from his burgeoning list of things that he finds attractive about you. He wonders if he could be the only reason for your smile. He wants to be, desperately wants to, but he’s not sure if he’s capable of doing so. And he’s angry at himself for not believing that he can do so. Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t tie you down, maybe you’d be better off with some other dude.

Maybe he shouldn’t be so selfish.

But he wants to be. When it comes to you, he wants to be selfish. He feels like he’s in a trance, fallen straight into the web you’ve woven around him, and he can’t get out because something in him turns green.

“Pingu!”

You beam at the boy standing awkwardly across the room, totally forgetting to keep your cool when your eyes land on his outfit. You have to stop yourself from drooling at how good he looks in his usual black button-down and dark jeans, the wide planes of his chest and the strong curves of the muscles in his arms.

When he walks over, his cologne wafts through the air and you have to will yourself not to have any dirty thoughts from how well his button-down stretches across his shoulders.

“Hey babe.”

Jungkook’s eyes zero in on your face, vaguely fleeting to the boy’s beside you, and shoots him a quiet seething glare when his eyes land on the proximity of your shoulders. For a split moment, he looks down at your phone and sees that you’re on GCF’s Soundcloud page – listening to his newest single, “Nothing Like Us” and his heart pummels to his stomach, softening a little.

“Boyfriend?” The guy perks up beside you, wariness evident in his tone.

You gently slap him on the shoulder in laughter, “Oh, we’re not together—”

“Yes, we are. Let’s go, bub.”

“Pin—”

Jungkook doesn’t wait up, grabbing your things and shoving them in your bag like you’re in a mad rush. It’s impossible for him to think straight. His mind has become an unrecognisable labyrinth that he has difficulty navigating, sent into a turmoil.

As he pulls you out of the lounge, fingers firmly intertwined with yours, warmth encapsulates your heart and cheeks, like sunlight melting on your skin in molten gold.

“I texted you,” he begins quietly, focusing on the ground and everywhere, except on your face as you desperately search for his eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t see. Was busy doing work with Minhyuk.”

At once, Jungkook’s vision flares red, glinting in the smooth obsidian of his eyes, “Don’t say his name.”

“W-What?”

He doesn’t answer and continues to tug you through the hallway.

“J-Jungkook? Where are we going?”

Realisation hits you when he brings you to an empty classroom – you recognise it as the old classroom that nobody ever uses – and a chill runs down your spine when the sound of the door being locked echoes throughout the room.

He pushes you against the wall, hands perched next to your head and you can't stop staring at his biceps, revelling in the way his arms flex whenever he moves.

“Strip,” he orders sternly, nipping at the lobe of your ear.

“H-Here?”

Jungkook has shared his kinks with you and you’ve never pegged him to be one for classroom sex, though you’ve got to admit that you’re turned on as well at the idea of a desperate, quick fuck in a classroom. Something so raw and visceral about it that sends a hot rush of arousal through you.

“You need to be taught a lesson,” he quirks his brow and smirks, reaching to unbuckle his belt.  

“Pingu—”

His lips purse before a chuckle leaves him, breathy sound meeting a restless tongue, as he runs it over his lips, “Did I stutter?”

The glint in his eye is dangerous like he has a primal need to claim. It makes you feel even more like a prey put on display, all weak in the knees for him when he slowly traces the dips and curves of your face – your eyelashes that’s fluttering with every breath, that tiny mole below your right eye, and your rosy pink lips. His eyes continue to trail down to the marks painted all over your neck and he feels a strum of possessiveness and satisfaction swell in his chest, knowing that he’s the rightful artist of such masterpiece.

He unbuttons your shirt and tugs it over your head, almost ripping it in the process but refrains himself from doing so at the thought of you screaming at him afterwards.

He plants an open-mouthed kiss on your lips and your mouths move in perfect synchronisation, practiced and perfect, but still sloppy with desire, a little too loud, a little too heated. There’s a tangible frantic hunger in the way Jungkook kisses you, a desperate need in how his hands roughly clutch at your waist, like he’s trying to steal the air from your lungs.

“All mine,” he whispers, teeth finding the plump of your bottom lip, a gentle gnaw at the flesh. When he tugs at it, it burns an inferno into your chest, imprinting your so deepest desires to the edge of your mind.

“Oh god,” you sob into Jungkook’s mouth, winding your arms around his neck and pressing closer, kissing you through the ache in your jaw, through the ache between your legs.

He doesn’t hesitate to hitch you up and you wind your legs around his waist, sweeping your tongue across his lips. This is far from romance, miles away, but it feels so romantic when it’s this raw and aggressive, tasting so much like teeth and sweat, lips working in precise vigour.

It’s almost impossible to pull away and when you finally break apart, a strand of saliva connects your mouths together. You watch Jungkook’s swollen lips glisten with your own saliva alongside the flecks of gold in his eyes and the very sight sends an electrifying heat down to your arousal.

There's something about kissing Jungkook, the mere act of having his chest pressed against yours and arms wrapped around you that feels natural and right, like you’ve been doing this for years.

When you slot one of your thighs between Jungkook’s and rock your hips forward, he takes this time to trail soft kisses down the column of your throat. Your breath catches in your throat when Jungkook sucks at the underside of your jaw, where your pulse is at and lets his lips linger, mouth leaving the warmth of an invisible mark that makes you rightfully his, even if just for a second.

He presses another kiss to the corner of your mouth, before trailing his lips to the shell of your ear and whispers, “I’m going to ruin you. Going to fuck your brains out till you can only remember my name.”

His words prompt a gasp to escape your lips and he uses this as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, coaxing another moan from you when he explores the inside of your mouth with his tongue and you let him, wanting him to explore every nook and cranny of your cavern.

“Going to fuck you silly, babe. Just the way we like it.”

It’s the deep timbre of his voice, almost a growl, that sends electricity to course through your veins, making you feel so fucking alive. It’s the way Jungkook’s shoulders barricade your leaner frame, which makes you feel so weak in comparison and dots your body with goosebumps, remembering the time he shoved you against the janitor closet and left a lovely bruise on your lower back and reminded you of the sheer force of his hips even days after.

“On your knees.”

And you comply wordlessly, sinking onto your knees as your hands find themselves holding onto his thighs for support.

He’s so fucking hot with the radiant flush on his face, hair sweaty and dripping onto his neck, shirt clinging like an extra layer of skin. Jeans tight around his thighs and oh, he’s saliently hard.

He tugs his jeans down impatiently, which land with a thud, and you watch with fascination as his thick, angry cock springs up and slaps onto his abdomen, precum already pearling at the tip.

“Open up, love,” he commands.

Before you can even touch his cock, he bends down to meet your eyes. Patting your head, he puckers his lips and spits, coating your tongue with his saliva in one sharp shot. You gasp at his sudden action but swallow, wanting to taste your wetness mixed in with his. His tongue twists against yours as he buries his fingers in between the silky strands of your hair, tugging it backwards, leaving you whimpering with desire.

“You like that, baby?” Jungkook whispers against your lips.

You can only moan again, unable to form coherent sentences, especially when he breaks away and slaps the head of his dick against your cheek, spreading precum there, and then on your tongue before guiding himself to the cavern of your hot mouth.

He curses underneath his breath when you stick out the flat of your tongue to lick around the slit, before kissing the head softly and smearing your lips with his precum.

Desperation peaks hot in the air around you two. This must be what it feels like to be on fire, so consumed by flames of desire. You peak up at him through your eyelashes and you watch as Jungkook’s eyes flash with something so carnal that it makes you want to take his dick deeper. You feel like you might just combust into ashes.

You wrap your lips around the velvet tip, beginning in a slow rhythm, swiping your tongue out as you savour the bitterness of it and sucking hard. Jungkook’s cock rests heavy on your tongue, throbbing at the wet heat of your mouth. Your hands reach forward to cup his balls, massaging them while you continue to suck around his head, eyes peeking upward every so often.

“Going to fuck your throat now, babe. Open wider for me, okay?”

You hum in response, before pulling away from his dick and return to slide back down again till you feel it hit the back of your throat. Jungkook reaches down and threads his fingers into your hair, right down to the base of your scalp. When he pulls tight, your lashes flutter, a breathy noise that sounds a lot like a moan spilling out of your swollen lips.

Jungkook pulls out slightly and you know what’s about to come. Using your mouth with no regards, he incessantly shoves his cock down your throat, satisfied by the disgusting gurgling sounds coming out of you. Your affirmation reeks of desperation, rolling out in ecstatic waves and ripples.

His mind is growing hazy, the sharpness dulling and the only thing he can think about is how good you feel around him. Fuck, no one chokes and slobbers on cock the way you do.

His hips continue to jerk faster desperately, catching and sliding right into the wet, hot vice of your throat, until his dick is buried warmly and snuggly at the back of your throat and the curved point of your nose is pressed against his pubic hair. In his mind, he thinks your mouth looks so fucking pretty stuffed with his cock.

You gag once again, tears forming at the edge of your tears, and it sparks something in Jungkook’s stomach. He wants to take you into bed, eat you out for hours and makes you orgasm till your vision goes black, till you know nothing but him and only him. But you’re not in your room and in fact in an abandoned classroom and as much as he wants to please you, he knows that the table isn’t the most comfortable. With that, he yanks you off him, which comes with a light ‘pop’ and a thread of drivel stretches from your lower lip to the crown of his shaft. You whimper at the loss of his dick, tears trickling down the high flush on your cheeks, and even then, he still thinks you look the prettiest.

Jungkook can barely get his fingers around himself, stroking once, twice, before he comes in thick spurts across your lips and chin.

Reaching behind, he gets a handful of your ass and easily hoists you up on top of the teacher’s desk. There’s a slap to the junction between your ass and your left thigh, the meaty flesh reddening and as much as it hurts, you love it when he’s rough with you. 

For a second, the world is black and then your shirts are tossed on the floor after much pulling and tugging, your bare chest heaving as you try to retrieve the breath that Jungkook seems to have stolen straight from your lungs.

He’s got you lying flat on the teacher’s desk before him, your skirt and underwear hanging carelessly around one of your ankles. His thumb darts right over your nipple, before he drags his tongue over it, sucking on it lightly and circling around it while he kneads the other with his palm and tweaks the bud between his knuckles. But what really sets you off is when he grinds the solid girth of his cock over your glistening centre teasingly. 

“Please don’t tease...” 

As your thighs engulf around him, he leans forward, letting his nose nuzzle at the apex of your cunt, where the scent of your sex is so strong.

You can’t see the lower of his face or mouth, only his nose and tendrils of hair stuck on his forehead, but you can definitely it as his tongue circles around your clit, trailing a fat stripe up your folds playfully and sucking at your wetness. A string of curses fall from your mouth, pleasure hot and sharp shooting through your veins to feed the tightening coil in your abdomen, and a sense of satisfaction hits him square in the chest when he hears his own name in the mix.

He relishes in the shaky gasp he coaxes out of you again when his teeth scrape lightly against the nub before the pearl a harsh suck. There’s nothing sweet or soft about the way he’s eating you out, but that doesn’t stop you from squeezing your thighs in between his head.

It’s a tidal wave, causing even more wetness to pool between your thighs when you feel a finger teasing at your entrance. He rubs you a few times more before easing the digit in, while his tongue continues to flick at your clit lazily as you throw your head back, hitting the desk lightly in the process but it feels so fucking euphoric. His finger is thick, so fucking long and thick and your tightness gladly invites the chafe of his finger, relishing in the way he makes you feel so full. 

“Fuck yeah, so good,” your fingers find themselves tugging in the tufts of his hair, weaving through his hair to push him closer to where you want him to be. Every stroke of his finger sends your cunt into a hot ocean of fuzziness and when he presses his nose flat against your mound, your hips rise off the table, a rampant fire fusing in your abdomen. Your brain is fogged with nothing but utter desire to have his dick right inside you. He doesn’t let up, inserting another finger, curling them against your wall and proceeding to fuck you raw, fast and rough.

“You’re so needy,” he smirks at how pliant you are, how much you crave for him.

He can feel you tightening against his fingers, your walls clenching unimaginably tight around him with every stroke and he pulls out before you can come. You don’t even have time to protest when he grabs his dick and gives it a few pumps, before lining himself in front of your cunt.

The velvet tip first circles around your clit, the feeling sending bolts of sparks through your abdomen and there’s a deep rumble that falls past Jungkook’s lips when he finally pushes his head into your cunt that makes you immediately clench around his shaft, bringing the inklings of stars behind his eyes.

He restrains himself for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the stretch and burn before you wriggle your hips the slightest bit and he knows it’s okay to continue. And then without warning, Jungkook rocks his hips forward, causing you to gag out loud, as his hips continue to roll up, drowning you in a white-hot heat. You keen shamelessly, loving the thickness and girth buried inside you to the hilt.

“Can’t believe the tightest pussy is mine.”

He wants to close his eyes and lose himself in this in the heat of your bodies, but he doesn’t want to look away. There's a shine on your cheeks and the expression on your face is caught in a euphoric bliss that Jungkook feels electric in his blood, the air between you two charged and alive.

“All mine.”

It’s been months since the two of you started this – this downward spiral into a mess of feelings that could never quite be spoken out loud, but understood nonetheless. But sex is always so good and you two are always so needy, so desperate, like you could never get enough of each other. And after all these months you’re supposed to be used to his thickness, you’re supposed to be used to the way his cock buries way too deep inside you, but you always feel like it’s the first time – your every nerve ending is alive and electric beneath your skin, receptive to each of Jungkook’s touches and sounds.

You can feel every drag of Jungkook’s cock inside you, every curve and line sliding against your walls, hitting that little bundle of nerves inside you that has left you babbling nonsense and drool dripping down your chin.

“Whose cunt is this?” His voice is dangerously gentle, but he’s looking into your eyes with eyes that are hooded and sharp by blazed arousal, the usual comets in them diminished and hidden behind the otherwise darkness of his irises, framed prettily by wispy lashes.

Your teeth sink down on the flesh of your bottom lip, red and bloodied in your attempt to somehow distract you from the overbearing stretch his cock tugs at your walls.

“Y-Yours!”

“Whose?” A low groan rumbles from deep in his throat, the sound bordering on animalistic, which sends tremors of desire to thrum through your veins.

He knows how to pry everything from you. How to get you to scream, shake from pleasure, how to get you to claw at his back like an animal and you love that about him.

“Yours, Jungkook. All yours.”

Finally, desire ricochets through his abdomen and the last tendrils of his noisy thoughts drift away, leaving him floating, the only sensation he knows at that moment is pleasure and the feeling of being inside you. He’s so out of breath when you rake angry red lines down his back in return, but he doesn’t mind. 

He wants all the scratches and bruises from you. He wants it all and he wants it hard.

Propping himself on his forearms so they frame your face, he brings up his foot to rest on the table leverage and pushes two fingers into your mouth. 

“Suck my fingers, yeah? You’re doing so good for me, bub. So good.”

You don’t protest, almost submissive under him, eyes obsidian and clouded with lust, sucking his fingers and revelling in the weight and fit of them in your mouth

At the crude sight of you, Jungkook pulls out of your cunt almost all the way, before slamming back into you with sickening precision, finally able to fulfil the primal, animalistic need and urge to act on his feelings and give you the best fuck you’d ever have. A choked moan is drawn from both of you as his length drags against your walls, hitting a spot deep inside you that has your back arching off the table, keening shamelessly as wet squelches and constant snapping of your skins resound the room.

He continues to pound harder into you, driving you into a delirious, babbling mess. Perhaps it’s the angle, but the way his hips snap into you, ploughing into that same sensitive spot over and over and over again, has you clutching desperately at his nape for stability.

You look so good like this. So soft beneath him. So close to him with your pretty tits snug against his chest that it feels like your heartbeats are in sync, falling into an echo of one beat together.

The desk whines under the weight and motion, but he continues pounding into you, bodies rocking to meet each other. Each rock of his hips sends you closer over the edge, the tip of his girth hitting just the cushion of your cervix, bodies rocking to meet each other.

His head dips, capturing your nipple and suckling gently before he nips at it, taking it between his teeth and pulling gently. The moan that tears from your throat is more than desperate and needy as he continues to grab onto your breast for support. 

Having been your sexual partner for months, he knows when it’s getting too much for you. He can tell by the way your eyes quiver and start to roll back and his fingers instinctively intertwine with yours as a way to help you relax as he rocks you through your orgasm, toned thighs and balls hitting against the backs of yours.

“Fuck, give it to me Jungkook. Please!”

A fizzle akin to a firecracker trails down to your legs and you fall back onto your elbow, your other hand firmly interlocked with Jungkook’s as he hike your leg over his shoulder and fucks you with the same vigour, feeling the weight of his cock inside you and his balls, heavy and full slapping against you. You keen at the new angle, feeling so full of him, and when you come, your entire body shakes and Jungkook holds you through it all, whispering love notes into your hair, against the shell of your ear, thumb tracing circles on your hip, soothing and reassuring.

He soon follows, spilling spurts of his warm cum inside you, harder than he ever has, your warmth a comfortable stroke to the ridges of his dick. For a few seconds, all he sees is the murky red of the inside of his eyelids. You’re still pulsing around him, clamping his dick with your warm walls, breath like staccato in your throat while he sucks at your neck, both instinctually trying to stake a claim for the best fuck ever.

The silence between you two is refreshing as you take a moment to catch your breaths.

Jungkook watches as your chest heaves with each breath, looking properly wrecked with a glazed look in your eyes. When he pulls out of you from oversensitivity, his eyes are fixated on his cum that’s dribbling out of you and he registers that nothing could be more enticing and beautiful than seeing your rosy pink pussy swollen and painted with his seed. He wants to come inside you all day. It boggles his mind, how close and intimate he yearns to be with you, how he has surrendered his heart to you on a silver platter.

He raises a hand to your neck, fingers brushing lightly on the florid bruises, his touch soft and longing.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers in a saccharine tone, corners of his pretty lips curving upwards into a grin, “All for me.”

You blush fervently at the sudden change in demeanour, still reeling from all the feelings coursing through you. Jungkook’s back to being the soft, doe-eye bean that you adore.

“And you’re like a dog. So fluffy.”

You squeeze his cheeks until his lips pout out like a fish.

Shoving your hand away, he scrunches up his nose and breaks into a blinding smile, the warmth spreading down to his toes, “Can’t believe you’re calling me a dog after I just had my dick in you. Way to ruin the mood.”

“Can’t believe you dragged me into a classroom because you got jealous.”

The flush on Jungkook’s face only darkens and he’s forced into quiet submission, shaking his head and muttering a quiet fuck you, but he doesn’t deny it.

“Wear this, your shirt looks ruined.”

Jungkook hands his sweater over and you take it gratefully, pulling it on, and for a moment, you let himself take a deep breath, the spell-binding musk of his cologne making you feel warm and safe. You find yourself slipping again into that safe, content state that you always feel whenever you’re with him. And just like this, you’re back to falling into Jungkook and the galaxies collapsed into the coracles of his eyes.

“So, when are you planning on telling her?”

Jungkook hates how straightforward Yoongi is sometimes with no patience for bullshit.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, shoulders drooping low.

“Kid, you know you can’t hide this from her forever. It would be easier if she wasn’t a fan, but she’s obsessed with you and your other alias.”

“I didn’t think she was going to find me… All I wanted was to post my music somewhere. I didn’t think this far.”

“Kook, she’s in love with GCF, your songs, your lyrics – I think she deserves to know.”

Jungkook shakes his head profusely, “It’s not that easy, hyung. When she finds out that all the songs are about her, I’m fucked.”

“Why do you assume that?”

“I just… When she finds out that I’m hopelessly in love with her, she’s going to hate me and whatever we have is going to be ruined.”

Yoongi shakes his head and looks up at the ceiling, praying to god for strength to pull through. He doesn’t know how to deal with his idiot friend and his equally idiot of a crush. It’s pretty common knowledge that Jungkook has a crush on you – if his intense aflame yearning for you could even be labelled as a crush – so big that he has dedicated his entire underground singing career to you in secret. But it’s also common knowledge that Jungkook is dumb – living in his own little bubble with his deteriorating one braincell.

“You think too lowly of yourself, kid.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, distracted by the notification that flashes on his phone.

[you] [14:56] listen to this!!! i love his cover

His heart falls. He is confused. He is beyond confused – he is conflicted, stupefied, disoriented and madly disturbed and even that is an understatement. He feels like he’s falling like a feeble autumn leaf from the gust of wind into a bottomless pit.

Drowning in a whirlpool of emotions he doesn’t even know he had the capability of feeling.

A smothered voice at the back of his mind starts to question your relationship. You two have shared so many words, so many late nights spent talking to each other even when you’re too tired to keep your eyes open, so many afternoons spent laughing over one braincell moments and food and so many instances unravelling each other physically and emotionally.  

He truly questions himself – whether the weightless impossibility that he feels around you could be love. He’s never been in love, like really what is love? What’s the difference between liking and loving someone? Each emotion feels so vivid, from the calm to the happy to the quiet.

He’s not sure if he loves you, or he’s in love with you, but sometimes he thinks that he could be, when he feels the lingering sweetness of your heart on his tongue, tastes the heavy redness of want beneath your teeth, and yearns for the softness of your body when he’s in class.

You’re a faraway planet and Jungkook wishes to settle his arms into their orbit around you.

Still, he wouldn’t risk something so delicately special for a thought that comes and goes fleetingly, in stolen pockets of time when the sky shifts from muted geranium to deep violet.

Even if it is love he has for you, even if this love could be made for movie screens, Jungkook knows that it’ll leave both parties broken. He knows that you deserve better, more than a guy who secretly writes songs about you because he doesn’t have the courage to love you loudly and wholly, like the bells ringing in his ears whenever his eyes land on you.

It doesn’t take a lot for you to realise that Jungkook has resided back into his shell. He’s been avoiding you for the last week and you kind of hate it when he gets like this, closed-off and hard to reach.

The thing about your relationship with Jungkook is that it’s a big nebula. While the two of you fuck around on a daily basis with supposedly no strings attached, Jungkook has also become one of your best friends.

As mischievous as he is charming, endearingly shy and heartbreakingly sweet, he’s just really nice to be with and it makes you falter, knowing how unconditionally Jungkook cares for you and vice versa. When you need someone to talk to, you often find yourself calling him, in which he’ll have no qualms about coming over, even at three in the morning.

This time, you fight the urge to call Jungkook again. The heavy want to hear his sweet, calming voice before you fall asleep is strictly romance territory, and you’re definitely not together with him, but you want to tell him about your day. The new movies you’ve watched, the songs that you’ve discovered, GCF’s new track that reminds you of him. You’ve been sending song recommendations to Jungkook. You want to share all the music you love with him, because they all remind you of him, because all the songs are about love, because they are all about how you feel for him.

But after much radio silence, you’re beginning to wonder if he even gives a shit about you. Deep down, you know that he does – he’s always been treating you a little differently, like you’re someone he holds dear to his heart. At least, when you’re together, just the two of you like this, he makes you feel as if you’re someone special and dear to him. And when another track of GCF plays in the background, you wonder: how nice would it be, if the lyrics reflect how Jungkook feels about you. Maybe this is how galaxies come into a pleasant, mutual collision.

[Big Dick Dude 👅] [2:34] you asleep?

You stare blankly at your phone, your instinct to pick it up and answer him immediately battles with the pettier side of yourself wanting to ignore him. The thought crosses your mind for only a second or two before you dismiss it.

[you] [2:35] nope

[Big Dick Dude 👅] [2:35] can i come over?

[you] [2:36] okie [2:36] i’ll leave the door unlocked for you

As the night transitions into a lighter grey and warmth sinks deep into their skin, Jungkook thinks that you look prettiest like this, sprawled across the mussed up sheets of your bed with the soft moonlight that makes the lilacs around your neck and chest gleam in gold.

“You’re staring,” you accuse, but your eyes crinkle up at the corners.

There’s a momentary hesitation flicker in Jungkook’s eyes and you part your mouth, ready to tease him even further, but your heart gets caught in your throat when he replies.

“How could I not?” He presses you closer to him, making sure there’s as little space between your bodies as he can possibly manage, “I could look at you all day.”

Everything feels a little hazier, a little gentler, a little warmer all at once and it’s not just due to the heat simmering under your skin, tinging your cheeks a translucent pink. It’s also due to the stars in Jungkook’s eyes that come to live, smiling at you with their pristine pearly teeth.

He’s always tender after sex – all soft touches and tender words. It’s always a fight between warm and soft and hot and hard when it comes to Jungkook. And it’s exactly this clashing dichotomy that makes you so attracted to him and the low voice coming from those lips that glisten with a pretty, rosy swell.

“Bub,” he whispers, more to himself than to you.

He rests his hand in the dip of your side, fingertips gliding along the grooves of your ribs and raising goosebumps on your skin, as if his small touches are signals that he wants you within his reach, scared that you’ll leave.

“Yeah?”

His tone slips into something softer, “Can you… Can you smile for me?”

“What?”

You turn to look at him with a questioning look, but you’re greeted by the undeniable loneliness that overwhelms the monsoon of his obsidian eyes.

“Smile for me, bub.”

Your eyes narrow at his weird request, but eventually relent anyways, breaking into a soft smile as you run your fingers through his locks out of habit.

Jungkook feels his heart soar to an enchanting level of complete and utter rapture at the sight, feeling as light as he does heavy.

Upon his conflicted expression, the tilt of your lips fades into something more serious, “You okay?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, you’ve just been a little off these few days. I kinda miss the old Pingu.”

“Sorry… I’m just stressed.”

“About?”

There’s a heavy silence in the moments following your question, hanging between you two.

Jungkook wants to tell you. That he’s currently putting up a full album with the help of Yoongi. He wants to tell you everything, confess to you that all his songs are about you, and he knew he was fucked when you found out about GCF because he never thought that his songs would reach you.

“About school stuff… Nothing important.”

Lies.

You could sense that he’s been wanting to tell you something for the longest time and you’re about to pursue it further, but upon seeing the hard rock expression on his face, you know better than to probe. He’ll tell you when he’s ready.

“Okay,” you whisper back, so quietly it would have vanished in the wind and the distant noise of the city, “You have all my support, you know that right?”

Jungkook feels his skin tingle, especially when you slot your head into the crook of his neck, lips resting lightly against his pulse.

“I—” He opens his mouth, “Yeah I know.”

There’s a sheen in your eyes before the air leaves your body in a rush. You lift your hand to brush your fingers against Jungkook’s lips, before shuffling forward to plant a kiss on the corner of his right eye. You linger, breathing like a fresh spring against his face, and then pull back.

As your hands find the courage to explore the soft material of his shirt, you run your fingers over the buttons, curling into him and delicately ghosting over his skin that you yearn to kiss with your lips, lick with your tongue, mark with your teeth and bruise with your nails.

He strokes up and down your side rhythmically, but doesn’t seem to have any motive behind the touch, so you let him despite the goosebumps forming on your skin and the zap of electricity that runs down your spine.

You stay like this for a long while. It feels right, somehow, like this is the universe's plan for you two. Soon, you fall asleep to the rise and fall of his chest, to his steady breaths, to his fingers intertwined with yours. And you know that when you wake up, Jungkook will be here right beside you, like always.

“You two are so domesticated, you know that right?”

You purse your lips at Jiyoon, eyebrows slightly furrowed, “What are you talking about?”

“You act like a couple,” she says matter-of-factly and continues at your dumbfounded expression, “Have you seen the way you two act around each other? You might think you’re just fuckbuddies, but dude… anyone can see that you two are fucking whipped for each other.”

You’re not oblivious. You know for one that you’re someone who will go all in on someone, give your 100 fucking per cent and have your heart dangling out on your sleeve just for the taking. You know what it means when your heart jackhammers whenever Jungkook smiles at you with the warmth of a summer day curved in it and when you get a little weak in the knees from his touch. You know what it means when your room smells a little different – when your mind only registers Jungkook’s smell and nobody else’s.

And you know what it means when Jungkook is the only who can affect you like this and he’s the only person who’s ever affected you like this.

The little instances of watching Netflix with Jungkook and doing homework together before fucking till the wee hours of the night – and just simply being together – have stuck with you as kind of romantic and domestic. He’d drop by your apartment at random times of the day, sometimes even before you’re back, already rummaging through your fridge, and you’d just shake your head at his barbarian behaviour and order takeout. These are few and far in between, but they’ve given you a glimpse of what things could be like.

With Jiyoon’s words settling heavily at the back of your mind, a tangle of what ifs and what could bes, you call Jungkook over that night and ask him to fuck you like he means it. You don’t miss the number of times he hesitates to ask what’s wrong, but he doesn’t upon seeing your distressed face.

Your relationship with him, without actually having any resemblance of a relationship, is really starting to worry you. You don’t know what Jungkook’s thinking – you’ve never really known what thoughts rush through the waterfall in his mind, but he’s always doing these pseudo-romantic gestures that probably don’t mean anything and it’s scaring you. The way your body reacts to even the slightest touch from him is absolutely terrifying.

The way your body wants and it continues to want – it yearns to be intimately connected with him. Because your mind knows that nothing can ever top the feeling of him being inside you, especially when he eases two of fingers inside of you, sinking all the way down to the knuckles.

A shiver traverses your figure when he pulls out slightly, only to piston his fingers into you again mercilessly at your g-spot. But before he can sink you onto his dick, your stomach growls, as if announcing to the entire world that it has been waiting forever for this exact moment.

“Bub, you hungry?” He bites softly at your earlobe, chuckling lightly.  

“N-No—”

He stares at you with the celestials in his eyes and you know that he’s not simply asking for the sake of doing so, “What do you want to eat? I think we still have ramen left.”

Your heart skips at how he refers to the two of you as we. Technically, he’s not wrong, considering how he’s been getting the groceries for your apartment that don’t just include cereal and milk.

His breath is coming out in warm swathes of air against your collarbones and you glance down to see his eyes, the slow blinks of his heavy lids, each breath laboured and potent with lust. Beyond that, you see utter fondness in each of his little starry friends.  

“You’re seriously asking me what I want to eat when you have your fingers in my vagina? Jeon Jungkook, you are one rare breed.”

He scoffs, planting a kiss on your forehead, and when he pushes himself off the bed, you know that he’s abandoning whatever intention he has of getting off to make a run for the kitchen, “I’m just me.”

And right at this exact moment, you’re utterly defenceless to the slaughter that your heart endures.

“Yeah,” you mumble, gazing at the back of his adorable, round head, your words lingering in the heavy air, “You’re you.”

It’s been ages since you went over to Jungkook’s apartment and you thought it’d be nice to drop him a surprise visit since he hasn’t been coming over. He’s always kept an extra key under his rug (hashtag just Jungkook things) and you’ve conveniently let yourself in, knowing that he’s probably at home because he has Wednesdays off.

Upon entering his apartment, you’re immediately greeted by a familiar voice wafting through the walls. You feel like you know the voice by heart. That voice… GCF?

Strange. While you’re an avid fan of the underground Soundcloud singer, you don’t recognise the song and you wonder if he has a new release that you don’t know about. You make a mental reminder to check out his Soundcloud page afterwards.  

“Pingu?” You call out, saunter towards his room that’s left slightly ajar. Easing the door open, you pop your head in and the sight hits you with a pang, drowning your heart in your chest.

“Jungkook…?”

At the sudden voice, the boy twists his head around almost immediately and shock crosses his face, his mouth dropping open slightly when he sees you standing at the door. He didn’t hear you calling for him and he sure didn’t expect you to show up at his apartment.

You stare blankly at his studio – equipment neatly spread across on his desk with a mic stand lowered to his face. You can vaguely make out the different equipment, having frequented Yoongi’s studio. Your eyes slowly shift to the rest of his room – his album covers pasted on his walls come into view and your chest tightens with a disconsolate, stifling feeling. His room looks so foreign as compared to the last time you were over.

How long has he been hiding this from you?

"You—you are…"

The sight of Jungkook’s face of shock (or is it guilt?) punches you straight in the gut. It's like the world's come down to the two of you again, just the two of you, at this moment.

“Bub…” He mumbles, finally finding his voice even though it's hard, especially with you staring at him straight in the face.

Suddenly, he’s hyper-aware of the deafening thud of his heartbeat, how his lungs seem to rattle behind his ribs and the unnerving churning in his stomach.

"That explains everything. Oh my god,” you gasp, “Oh my fucking god."

"I—"

You blink a couple of times, looking down at the floor before you slowly lift your eyes back to Jungkook’s again. You hold each other’s gaze for a few quiet seconds and he watches, almost in slow motion, how your lips part to his impending doom, hurt evident in your tone.

"You mean all this while, the Soundcloud singer that I’ve been gushing to you about was… you all along?"

He breaks his gaze from your face and mutters under his breath, “You weren’t supposed to find out.”

“Were you…” you mumble, voice tight, "Were you even planning to tell me at all?"

“Bub…”

"Yes or no?"

He casts his eyes to the ground, chin dropping to his chest, and remains silent.

The quiet plagues the room with heavy stagnancy, swallowing your bodies whole and caging them with its wings. Jungkook shuffles his feet in his seat, thinking about what he got himself into and sighs deeply.

"You wanted to continue to lie to me?"

“You weren’t supposed to find out,” he says, the words sounding sugar crystalised and rough in his throat, like the honey that trickled into his lungs from recording earlier has all hardened.

“So you wanted to, huh?” You close your jaw, the familiar stiff creaking adjusted to a sharp snap and you shut your eyes.

Jungkook’s chest rises with a shaky exhale, “I wasn’t ready to tell you.”

“All this time when I was talking about GCF and recommending his songs to you, I was actually talking about you? And you just let me?”

“It’s not like that, I—”

“Jungkook,” you exhale, a tremor laced in your words, “You know… You never want me to know anything about you. I tried so hard to get you to open up and I thought that maybe you’ve finally let me in. Maybe because I’m special to you. But I was wrong this whole time. You don’t trust me. You never did.”

There’s a crack in Jungkook’s armour. Something flickers across his features that look a lot like hurt and he begins to frown, brows pulling taut at the centre, “Maybe you pushed me too much! Why do I need to tell you everything? We’re not even together for fuck’s sake.”

Every syllable from Jungkook’s mouth sends a wave of searing coldness down your spine and echoes throughout the apartment. He closes his mouth instantly, regretting his brash words, and even more at the vacant expression on your face.

For moments and moments, the world seems to hang on a thin gossamer thread, suspended in static.

“Right,” you mutter dejectedly with a shattered expression, mouth parted and chest expanded with a breath that you haven’t let go of, “You’re right. We’re not.”

“I—”

“This was a mistake. Right from the very beginning. Don’t know why I tried. I should have known…”

The words ring in Jungkook’s ears before it's even properly out of your mouth.

“Known what?”

You shoot a glare at him and you hope that he can see the newfound contempt that you have for him blazing in your eyes. Your throat suddenly starts to ache, a ghost of tears already running down the breadth of your oesophagus, setting your entire body on fire.

“That you wouldn’t let me in. That you wouldn’t want my heart if I handed it to you on a silver platter. That I’m fucking stupid for thinking that you’ll actually like me back.”

“Wha—”

You don’t hear him out, turning on your heels. Maybe this is why he doesn’t like you coming over. Maybe that’s why he’s been avoiding you.

When you go to sleep alone that night, every single limb of yours feels heavy with exhaustion, aching with agony. Jungkook’s scent lingers stronger in your pillows and sheets, your mind only registering his scent and nobody else’s, and suddenly your bed feels a little too big, a little too empty.

"I’m not going to say I told you so, but I fucking told you so.”

Yoongi comes stomping into Jungkook’s room in a blaze of anger and indignation, lips pulled back in a snarl and eyes narrowed into slits.

Jungkook flinches at his tone, but looks up from his laptop like nothing's wrong. Nothing’s wrong, besides the headache pulsing between his temples and the fact that he has fucked things up with you beyond repair.

"She called me yesterday. Started crying on the phone.”

“She cried?” Jungkook winces, heart plummeting to the lowest pit of his stomach.  

“Yeah.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles under his breath, not knowing what else to say.

"You know, to be very honest, you guys make it seem like the world is ending."

"What—"

"It’s not that deep, you know? You write songs for her, she loves listening to them. You’re both in love with each other.”

"We’re not—"

"Don't give me that shit," Yoongi snaps, "You can keep denying, Kook. But I can tell from the way you look at her. The way you act when she’s around. It’s my first time seeing you like this… You’ve never acted like this with anyone.”

Jungkook inhales deeply, holds it, then exhales through his nose. Around him, everything is silent and still.

"And I think you very much know why you hid it from her in the first place.”

"I don’t.”

"You do."

Yoongi’s frown deepens, creasing the smooth skin between his eyebrows, "You’re scared that she’ll get disappointed knowing that you’re GCF all along. The guy who writes beautiful, romantic lyrics, the guy who sings his heart out. You’re scared that you’re not what she hoped you to be.”

Jungkook remains silent.

“But you know what’s ironic here? She’s in love with you. And she’ll love you even more when she realises that you’ve been writing songs about her. All for her.”

Loss comes entangled in love; insisting its way into little spaces in between skin and bone, and once inside, it seals the door and never leaves. It builds a home.

You should have known.

Stringless sex is easy until someone catches feelings – and what’s supposed to be casual and simple turns into something messy. You should have known that you were fucked from the get-go. The two of you have been warm bodies, seeking each other out after long nights and hard weeks, skin to skin, nothing but terrifying and intense, but so, so wonderful.

You should have known that someone like Jeon Jungkook would come whirling into your life, thrashing and maddening like the storm he is, would come sweeping you entirely off your feet, in his own little endearing Jungkook ways.

Endearing. Everything he does is endearing. Weirdly endearing, but still so, so endearing.

He’s the boy who eats cereal at 2am just because he’s hungry, the same dork who barges into your apartment at random times of the day to sleep on your bed and help you with your laundry, the boy who often drops his rice grains on his clothes and doesn’t hesitate to pick them up before shoving them back into his mouth. The boy who snacks on canned tuna directly from the can.

You shouldn’t be surprised that you’ve fallen for him. He’s always been there, ready to take your heart and it makes it so easy – too easy. Falling in love with him and having your heart torn apart by him is nothing like you’ve ever experienced, but it is so easy, like the first snowflake during winter, so light, so at peace, like destiny.  

Your heart soars through the clouds as you let the feeling complete you. It’s as if every inch of your body has been set aflame, but you strangely feel safe, letting yourself drown with his heart that pumps liquid gold through his veins.

Now the memories come flooding through your apartment floors like a movie scene. You think about his small mannerisms, the way he always listens to you, even when he doesn’t give two shits about the topic or looks disinterested, but he’s always listening quietly, and how he always seems to take care of the people around him in his own quiet ways. He cares and loves so fiercely and deeper than you could have ever imagined.

Getting used to Jungkook not being in your life proves to be way harder than it seems. You find yourself with tons of dead, empty hours that feel way too long and insufferable. It’s not the sex you miss, it’s more of the mere presence of him, his smile, the feeling of his fingers intertwined with yours. It’s the way his chest would rise and fall peacefully beside you, the way he’d share his favourite songs and movies with you, something you’d only convinced him to start doing recently, and the way he would banter with you over the dumbest of things and then make it up to you later on.

No matter how much you tell yourself that you’re upset at him, it doesn’t stop you from getting your hopes up every time your phone buzzes, only to be disappointed when it’s everyone but the boy you yearn to see. If only you could get some closure, but you can’t even bring yourself to initiate a conversation because there’s really nothing to say. It’s impossible to ask for an explanation, because you two were never anything. There was no us, regardless of whatever your heart has fooled you into believing.

Yet, your heart knows one thing: you’ve fallen in love with Jungkook in the quietest and gentlest of ways, almost as gently as the way he strokes your palm with his thumb, as gently as the way he looks at you, so impossibly fond it makes hope flourish in your veins.

And when your phone buzzes that night, you realise that your heart has always been right.

[googie ☁️🍞] [23:48] hey bub i know you probably don’t want to talk to me [23:48] but i’m having my first public performance as GCF this sat and i hope you can come [23:50] i missed you. a lot. you have no idea [23:51] i’m sorry for everything [23:53] really sorry

It takes every ounce of courage in you to leave your apartment that day for the campus music festival. Acts from the various school clubs and student artists are invited to perform, but the highlight of the evening would be the official debut performance of GCF. You’ve even heard that there would be media present to report on it.

You wonder how Jungkook is feeling. He’s probably dying inside, never one for crowds and unwanted attention and you wonder what made him decide to reveal himself. Could it be because of you?

When it’s finally time for GCF’s appearance, Jungkook’s blood fizzles with the sheer energy exuding from every corner of the pit. He glances at the crowd and finds himself dying a little more inside at the sheer amount of people gawking at him, anticipating him, including you, who’s stood rooted to the ground amidst the roaring sea of people.

He finds himself doing a double-take, heart caught in his throat like he’s not quite sure what’s in front of him is real, because there you are, looking as pretty as ever, staring right at him, your eyes slowly widening when you realise that he’s staring right back at you.

When he locks eyes with you, fizzy warmth fills you like a flooded street, a devastating kind that crashes right through you and throws you off-guard. He manages a smile, but his lips have a nervous, crooked curve to them and you watch him tug at the hem of his shirt anxiously.

There’s a love song written for you coursing somewhere through Jungkook’s blood and he breaks into a passionate belt when you offer him a soft smile.

His heart sinks once again. He probably should not be thinking about kissing the pretty curve of your lips when he’s supposed to sing and he fears that he’ll forget his lyrics because you’re here. Right in front of him, waiting for him to spill his heart out.

You’re here.

And that’s all that matters.

You realise that you’ve been holding yourself together by a thin thread and it snaps the moment Jungkook sings to you, for you. He always has this funny way of making you feel so special, looking at you like you’re the only person to exist, even now, when you’re surrounded by an entire crowd. As you listen intently to the lyrics, painful vines start to curl around your throat and thorns prickle over your skin. 

He continues to sing, the air around you two like running pages, his voice capturing you in a daze. He has reigned in the flitter-flutter heartbeats, blowtorched the butterflies in his stomach until there’s nothing but ash left in his chest and it kind of hurts, but right now, he’s going to sing, because this is how he is going to love you loudly and wholly, like the bells ringing in his chest.

The sky is painted with a violet flush hovering above the moon and the streets are quiet and aglow, pools of orange-yellow light being emitted from the lamp posts, distant sounds of the distant city echoing in the air. Everything around you is suspended in radiant city fog, soft in its vibrancy.

Not a word is exchanged between you two, with only the moonlight above your heads as the comfortable silence engulfs you in ellipses.

“Sing for me, Pingu.”

Jungkook’s gaze skims over your features in silent contemplation, “Bub…”

“Please?”

He doesn’t respond and you fear that he’s going to turn down your request, but then he starts singing softly and your heart gnaws at how pretty his voice in the darkness is.

Soft and crystalline, his voice hangs in the moonlight and drifts away with the stars, each word a drop of light, some of them whispered and some flawlessly held. His voice is huskier than you’d remember and its timbre sends shivers raking down your spine. You cannot emphasise how much better this is than listening to his songs on your earpiece.  

When he finishes singing, you ask, “Were you nervous just now?”

He chuckles, as if to ease the tension, “I was actually more nervous about you not showing up.”

“Pingu, of course I came,” you smile softly to yourself, “I wouldn’t miss your performance for anything and you did great – like you always do. I’m so proud of you.”

He smiles back at you as gently as the pretty pink sky of a fading summertime day.

“Did you know that I started singing because of you?”

You freeze.

“W-What?”

“It’s quite obvious that all my songs are about you, silly.”

“I—”

“They’re everything that I feel towards you, but couldn’t tell you.”

Your eyes flicker across his visage – he’s biting his lips anxiously and your heart gnaws.  

“D-Did you know?” He slowly begins again, careful with his words, “That I like you?”

“No,” you admit, biting your bottom lip, “but I hoped.”

Jungkook’s eyes become soft crescents on his face and wordlessly inches forward to close the breath of space between you two, cupping your face in his hands like you’re the most delicate flower he’s ever touched. He doesn’t look away from your eyes searching your gaze silently and you watch as the moonlight catches on the flecks of gold in melted brown.

If you went stargazing with him, it’d be pointless because you would spend the entire night staring at the little stars in his eyes and becoming acquainted with each of his starry friends.

“I knew though.”

The whisper is warm and enticing as the words are exhaled onto your lips, leaving trails of electricity to tingle on your skin in the rise of gooseflesh.

“Huh?”

“I knew that I was going to love you.”

At his words, the press of skin to skin is nearly overwhelming. Under the moonlight, the hint of a blush glows effervescently on his cheeks.

“And too much. Far too much,” he adds, the curve of his lips soft.

Heat sits high on your cheeks as his words linger in your ears. It takes awhile for you to fully register his words, though petals are already wildly blossoming between your ribs. He makes you feel like you’ve got an entire universe in you just waiting to happen.

“Y-You love me?”

He nods.

“Listen,” he takes your hand into his, his voice soft, “I don’t know how to define myself without you anymore. You’ve been such a big part of my life and you’re the only person who has such an effect on me. I miss you like crazy when you’re not around and I knew something was up when I kept on wanting to see your face, wanting to see you smile for me and that’s when I knew it wasn’t just sex anymore. It was hardly just sex between us, even from the very start.”

The words come out in a messy tumble, and if you aren’t focusing on his voice, you probably wouldn’t have understood them. Still, the unexpected confession sends you into a mild state of delirium, mind racing a mile a minute.

“But you… You deserve to be loved loudly. You deserve someone who isn’t afraid, who isn’t always fucking up.”

“Pingu,” you begin, enjoying how his nickname rolls pleasantly off your tongue, “I’ve always wanted you from the start. And then things got really messy even though we aren’t together and even now, I’m still scared that I’ll ruin whatever we have.”

The sound of crickets echoes around you two, mixed with the faint rustling of leaves and the melody of a chilly autumn night. Muted in the back of your throat, softly lulling in the back of your mind, loudly screaming from the heart shapes in his eyes, you see love.

“But if you must know, my feelings for you are beyond this universe.”

You take Jungkook’s hand in yours, tracing the lifelines of his palm, the deep crease that represents his mind, the curve of his heart, and the delicate vines that he carries with him.

“You love loudly, Pingu. You love me in every sense of the word in the gentlest and loudest of ways.”

And when he puts his hand on top of yours, it feels like your galaxies have collided and become yoked as one, his starry friends now orbiting your once solitary sun.  

“So…” He starts, rubbing his palm against the nape of his neck, “I was thinking…”

“Wow.”

He lets out a huge puff and attacks you with a fit of tickles, laughter shared in low pre-dawn voices.

“Oh my god, Pingu! Sorry, let me live!”

“You’re so annoying, but so adorable.”

“I could say the same about you.”

So I was thinking…” He repeats, his voice dropping to a soft dulcet whisper, “Hypothetically.”

You hum in response, relishing how Jungkook’s breath tickles warmly on the slope of your nose.

“Maybe we could go out…”

“Like right now? It’s almost midnight.”

“Oh my god, you’re so dumb,” he laughs again, a deep, throaty sound that you can feel under your skin and presses his body even closer to you. His laugh echoes throughout the night and into the city and echoes in your mid.

“As in we could go out for real,” he says slowly, “As boyfriend and girlfriend.”

A dusting of pink blooms on the peaks of his cheeks, crossing the bridge of his nose and spreading over his cheekbones. It snakes furiously down his neck and he searches anxiously for your eyes, catching the light from the lamppost and they illuminate like filaments of copper, while his heart hammers against his chest.

“And maybe you would say yes.”

“Yeah?”

“And I could, you know,” he finds his fingers instinctively winding themselves in your soft strands, smoothing it down rhythmically, “Love you the way you deserve to be loved. Loudly and wholly.”

Your entire body shivers. Grabbing his hand, you smile, “And maybe… I can’t wait for you to do that.”

“Yeah?”

Under the moonlight, Jungkook’s wearing a sun of a smile on his face and there’s a lovely light that reaches his honey eyes whenever his lips stretch and his dimple deepens. Ethereal.

“Yeah.”

At the first brush of his lips, an inferno ignites. Heat blazes through your veins, rendering you molten as you sink into his kiss.

Kissing Jungkook is a lot like coming home. His kisses are as soft as sighs and giggly secrets whispered in the middle of the night; happy, private, comfortable, familiar. In a way, you feel like you’ve been doing this all whole life. And then Jungkook moves closer and traces his tongue over your bottom lip, warm and heavy. Hums spill past your lips each time your tongues brush and you feel a restless fire raging beneath your skin, a meadowsweet summer warmth blossoming in your chest as he swallows every hitch of your breath.

In and of itself, there’s no greater testament to love than love itself. For one, you love how Jungkook seems to always know what your heart wants even when you don’t say anything. You love how gentle his heartbeat is and how it’s become the sound of your universe. You love how he has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped and it loves fiercely and loudly and gently. You love how he’ll always be just there, in every sense and meaning of the word. You love how hearts will be broken and tears will be spilt, but even then, it’ll still be worth it. And you love how fully love wakes between the two of you and perhaps, it is entwined in him that you find absolution.

ta-dah!!!! this is yet another mammoth istg i want to try writing short fics but I Simply Can’t. sorry if the wait was rly long ;; i just want to say that i fucking love jungkook and writing this made me feel so soft for him once again. jungoo is the goodest boi who cares and loves so gently and loudly in his own dorky, endearing ways and i hope you feel the same while reading this! !!

i love the ending,, still waiting for the day i can use the last line for somebody that’s not jungkook because life be like that i just want someone to hold my hand lmao

i probably will disappear again bc i’m going to be taking up a (legit) leadership position in school and i can foresee myself being fking tired,,, but i have plans to start on a hobi postbreakup & volleyball au fic... i won’t promise when it’ll be out because i am horrible at deadlines

once again, thank you so much for reading this and if you enjoyed it, please please hit that like or reblog button or/and hmu in my inbox/dms! ♡ 

[ellus986]

Hold me closer part 1

Frank Castle x Karen Page

Warning : nakedness, speaking about murder

You still didn’t told Matt or Foggy that Frank is alive, not just alive, back in the city, but not just in the city in your apartment most of the time. It was heavy news, you can’t just trow it on them, as hard as their past was, but Frank, you just couldn’t resist him.

Two weeks ago when you walked home from the office, you accidentally bump into a man, you thought just for a moment, until you saw his face, it was not an accident.

“Karen...”

“No Frank, no! You disappeared again...”

“I know!” He cuts in. “ I needed you to be safe.”

“Than why are you back?” You ask before he grabs your upperarm and walks you to the nearest alley.

“You know why!” He steps closer.

“No Frank I don’t!”

“Karen...” he steps closer like it was possible, your bodies are almost inseparable.

“Frank...” you look up at him, in his dark hazel eyes. “You are bleeding!”

“I’m used to it...”

“You can’t stop, am I right?”

“I’m the punisher, that’s what I’m good for...”

“No Frank you are more than that...” you smooth some hair out his face, it started to grow again, while it was still regularly cut and it made him even more handsome. “But, I know it is a part of you too!” You look at his lips. You know you should have been mad, you know you should have been walking away from him, but God you did not wanted.

“You should have leave as soon as you saw me!”

“Didn’t you already know my feelings never change, no matter how hard you try?” You slid your fingers in his hair.

“I’m not even worthy to speak with you...

but I need you!” He wishpers.

“For what?” You ask back, you know things better than to think he is here for purly you.

“Oh Karen... I didn’t came to ask you anything, I just couldn’t keep myself away from you anymore!” He says before locking his lips on yours. It was wild and driven by passion, at the same time, you felt his fear. You kiss him back, grabing his waste with your free hand.

“I thought you will never do it...” you pant between two kisses.

“I hoped you don’t want me to!” He pulls away.

“Frank you killed people, I killed people what is the difference? They were bad guys, but if you are a monster as you want me to think, I’m one too or even worst!”

“Don’t even think like that!” He cups your face.

“Oh you don’t know anything... I killed my brother, it was an accident, but still it is my fault, it will be always my fault!” You wishper, telling it to someone for the first time.

“You never told me that...” he can’t say anything else.

“You are the first person I told anyway... I understand if it changes everything you think about me...” you can’t end your sentence as he kisses you again.

“It does not change anything, I learned from a good person that I should judge people by they hearts...”

“All of them? You speak with them before you kill them?” You giggle, with one tear falling down on your cheek.

“No, but the ones who think they have screwed up, are mostly good people!”

“Just like you Frank Castle!” You smile at him.

“Or more likely you Karen Page!” He kisses your forhead. “I walk you home, it is late!”

You walk side by side, neither of you say a word but you grab his hand after a block. He looks down on your hands but he closes his fingers on your palm.

“This is it...” you turn to him as you get to your place.

“I should go now...” he mutters but you won’t let his hand go.

“Aren’t you tired of being always a gentleman?” You wishper into his ears.

“I was never...”

“Than, why aren’t you just follow me into my kitchen to eat something?” You answer.

“That is a good point!”

“Karen... earth calls Karen!”

“Sorry...where were we?”

“At the point we don’t have enough money, again!” Continues Foggy.

As you look down on your note you see the little F you wrote while day dreaming. As soon as you can you cover it, but you have no luck.

“F for Foggy?” He laughs and you hear Matt trying not to.

“Dream big boy...”

“Than for who?” Asks Matt.

“Defenetly not for Daredevil!” You cut back. “So if we sell the coffee machine and buy instant coffee we could save a little on the expences.”

“Really, the coffee?” Ask Foggy.

“Matt, help me!” You look over him. You already know he is analysing you, but won’t ask again about the letter you wrote down.

“She is right, if we want this to work we need to minimalise every cent we put out.”

After your meeting you want to head home, but Matt stops you.

“F, huh?” You don’t stop, and he follows you. “There is something we should know Karen?”

“Matt even F means someone, there is nothing you need to know! It called privacy!” You shoot back.

“I thought we are friends...”

“Yes Matt we are, but if you can keep it a secret you are alive, I can write F down and not reason it!” Your heart beats fast, and you know he is listening to it.

“You are right, but if you want to tell me something, you know you can trust me!” He leans closer, and now it feels so much more different, you no more have butterflies in stomach. “Anyways, did you hear the rumors that The punisher is back again?”

“No.”

“I don’t know if it is Frank, or a copycat, but stay safe.” He puts some hair behind your ear, and you just don’t move, until he steps away.

“I will! But I need to go now!”

“Have something important?” He analises you again.

“Laundry, cooking, you know what always!” You answer. “Bye!”

“Bye!”

You walk fast, not beacuse you want to get away from Matt, but because you want to get home as soon as possible.

As you walk in you find Frank in your bed asleep on his stomach naked only covered by a blanket from his half ass down, some blood still on his back and nape. Your bathroom looks like a war zone, he defenetly had been in a fight last night.

You get his stuff up from the floor and put in the washing machine, atleast you did not lie about that to Matt. You watch Frank peacefully sleep. After the hospital you felt lucky everytime you saw him sleep and wake up peacefully.

You get down your dress and get on his shirt what lays next to the bed. You haven’t seen him since yesterday morning, and God how much you missed him. You lay next to him, just watching him, but he turns and nictates at you.

“Hi!”

“Good morning sleeping beauty!” You kiss his forhead.

“Defenetly you are the beauty in this tale, and I’m the beast!”

“After what I walked in in my bathroom I can’t argue that you are a beast!”

“Sorry, I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore...” he can’t look in your eyes.

“It is okay, Frank if you are okay...” you look over him to see if he is hurten.

“It was so long ago someone looked at me like that...” he mutters with amazment in his eyes.

“I can’t remember anyone looking at me like you...” you wishper before he kisses you.

“Oohm yeah I’m okay, it was just one shot just touching my shoulder.”

“But...”

“But what?”

“You need to stop...for just a little.” You run your fingers in your strawberry blonde curls. “There are rumors about you, Matt just asked me if I know anything, I don’t think he is sure about that it is you, or knows about us, but he will be after you. I know that.”

“Than I meet Red again.”

“Frank please... I don’t want you to be hurten, and not even him...”

“You still love him?”

“Yes, as a friend,nothing more, and you know that!” You stand up not liking the turn of this conversation. “You should know my feelings are the same for quiet a time now, and I told you that so many times, but if you need to hear this, here it is: my feelings for Matt were nothing compered to what I have for you, even if you feel the same or not!”

He gets up after you, naked and grabs you into a tight hug. “I’m sorry that I’m not really good with words, but you need to know that only Maria was this close to me ever in my life, that I feel home when you hold me close, and I still think I don’t deserve you.” He holds you close kissing the top of your head as you listen to his heart. You just stand there with his lips in your hair, not saying a word not letting eachother go. “I go and clean up the mess I made.” He walks away and you watch his perfect buttom.

“Frank...”

“Yeah?” He turns back.

“I need a shower, and I think you too!” You look him up from his toe to the top of his head.

“Yeah?” He smirks.

“Yeah!” You giggle following him to the bathroom.

To be continued...

My sweet perms:

@simply-sams-things

[thatonedracostan]

Snow // Draco Malfoy x Reader

Enjoy this fanfic I literally wrote while listening to Lover by Taylor Swift on loop.

Disclaimer: I haven’t written anything fandom related for the last two years please go easy on me (I’ll work with my titles soon lmao) 

This is my first Draco Malfoy/Reader fanfic as well! I’ll be writing more in the future as well. 

Feel free to send a request!

Word Count: 1538

Moonlight illuminated the snow-covered streets as a chilly breeze flew past the couple who was sitting on a park bench, huddling for warmth. The two had just finished their yearly tradition of doing a “Muggle Holiday Tradition” as Y/N would call it. This year it was ice-skating which led to a playful snowball fight afterward.

 Despite the cold weather, the streets were still packed with people, it’s Christmas season, after all. Years ago, Draco would never dare imagine himself in a place like this, surrounded by muggles as he held the love of his life in his arm.

“I already told you a snowball fight with me is not a great idea. It’s admitting defeat.” He grinned as he held her closer to him. Y/N shivered underneath his hold. “You were unfair. A snowball fight means we THROW snowballs at each other, not shove snow in the other’s clothes.” She pouted, avoiding his gaze. 

Draco laughed at the sight in front of him. Her face was flushed due to the cold and her pouty expression did not help at all. It just made him want to clash his lips against her even more, but he wouldn’t. He’s still trying to enjoy the view. “We both know you would’ve done the same if I didn’t beat you to it, love.” He chuckled and leaned towards her, the point of their noses colliding. 

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t” Draco pressed his lips against her. The warmth of her lips felt nice against his in contrast to the cold winter air that blew around them. He felt her smile through the kiss and he swore he felt his heart skip a beat. She reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled away from the kiss. “You’re right. I don’t and I would never.” 

Y/N unwrapped her arms around him and stood up. “Well, it’s getting late. We should head home.” She reached out an arm to him, offering her hand and Draco took it before standing up.

The two of them headed home, hand in hand. Their flat was located somewhere around the city corner. Thinking about their shared home makes Draco feel warm. It was her idea. She thought that it would be nice if the two of them had a place for themselves instead of staying in the manor. What makes him more proud is that they bought it with the money they worked hard for. He didn’t use a cent from his family’s fortune as per Y/N’s request. He complained at first but she managed to convince him either way. 

He thought it was strange. They were both purebloods and came from wealthy families but Y/N wanted something different. His parents were not amused by this idea, their son settling in the muggle world. They were even convinced that Y/N has bewitched him but he couldn’t care less. She made him see things from a new perspective and he loved her for that. 

Draco was so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t notice they were already home. Y/N pulled the keys from her purse and opened the door. Y/N immediately crashed on the couch and Draco went ahead to light the fireplace. After that, he sat beside her and wrapped his arms around her.

There’s comfortable silence between them and none of them wanted to break it. She cuddled closer to him, burying her face on his chest. He ran his hand on her head, stroking her hair slowly. His mind drifted into the past. He remembered the first time he saw Y/N during his 4th year in Hogwarts. He remembered approaching her in the middle of a snowy day after Blaise and Theo has mocked him that day, saying that he’s terrible in making acquaintances even if he tried hard. A scarf was wrapped nicely around her neck as she sat on one of the courtyard’s benches, reading a book.

“Hey.” He greeted. The busy girl looked up to look at the person who just spoke to her. Her expression turned into a shocked one when she noticed who was standing in front of her. “Hello.” She greeted back. There was an awkward silence before Draco decided to break it. “My name’s Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.” He said reaching out his hand for a handshake. The girl in front of him looked at him as if he was mad. “I know.” She replied. Draco didn’t know what to say next. For once, he was at a loss for words. 

“You know, if you’re going to make fun of me, I’m going to hex you.” He was surprised by her statement.  Of course, Draco Malfoy was known as a bully throughout the entire school, he wasn’t surprised that this girl in front of him has her guard up. He grinned at her. “It seems like I’m known even in the lower years.” She looked at him one last time before going back to the book she was reading. “If you have nothing else to say, please leave. As you can see, I’m busy.” His grin faltered. It looks like he chose a difficult person to be acquainted with. Still, he was determined to know who this girl was. He’s never seen anyone stand up to him like that. Well, except for his friends.

“You didn’t introduce yourself.” 

“Why do you care?” She replied, not even looking up from the book she was reading. She was starting to piss him off. How can she just dismiss him like that? 

“Hey!” She shouted as the blond boy snatched the book from her hands. “What are you even reading?” He looked at the cover.  “The Cask of Amontillado? Is this some sort of muggle literature?” He looked at her with disgust. “You’re a mudblood, aren’t you?” She snatched the book from his grasp, her face red with anger. “For your information, I’m Y/N Y/L/N, a pureblood. Now please, just leave me alone before I truly hex you.” Y/N spat out, her voice obviously filled with rage as she walked away. 

“Y/L/N” He thought to himself. The name sounded familiar to him but he can’t exactly point it out. He shrugged it off and headed to his common room. 

“Helloooo? Earth to Draco Malfoy, are you there?” His thoughts were interrupted by Y/N, who was now waving her hand in front of his face. “Yes, love. I’m here.” He replied as he took the hand in front of him and intertwined their fingers. “Good. What was on your mind that had you so deep in your thoughts, though?” She asked, tilting her head to the side, curiosity in her eyes. He stared at her for a while. Why is she so adorable? 

“Remember the first time we met?” He asked, a grin plastered on his face. Y/N laughed. “Of course. You were a git. I was just minding my own business and you decided to randomly show up just to take my book and call me a mudblood.” She answered. “I remember it as clear as day.” The two laughed. “Instead of mudblood, you would call me a blood-traitor whenever you saw me just because of the book I was reading when we first met.” She took her hand back and crossed her arms. 

“Hey I apologized for that, didn’t I?” He defended himself. “Yeah, after I beat your ass in a duel you challenged me into!” She sneered. “I really put you in your place, didn’t I? You were still mean to everyone, but me. You became awfully nice and it surprised me.”

“Well, that’s because I saw you as an equal. I was glad that I finally found someone who’s on par with me.” He explained. “Really? Is that why you asked me to the Yule Ball? Because I was “on par” with you? Hm?” She asked in a teasing manner. Y/N squealed as Draco tackled her onto the couch, pinning her underneath him.

“You know damn well why I asked you that time.” He whispered. His face was inches from hers. “It’s because The Draco Malfoy has caught feelings for me” Y/N brought her hand to his face and lightly tapped his nose. 

“What’s got you all sentimental, anyway?” Y/N asked as she stared deeply into his grey eyes. He sighed as he adjusted and laid his head on her chest. “It’s the snow I guess. It was snowing when I first met you.” He closed his eyes as he listened to her heartbeat. 

“You know, If someone told me back then that I’d be spending the rest of my life with Draco Malfoy, I wouldn’t have believed them.” Y/N reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from his face. “But here we are anyway.”  

She ran a finger through his skin. It reminded her of snow with how pale he is. He looked so peaceful just lying there with his eyes closed. Just as she was about to close her eyes, she heard Draco whisper her name.

“Y/N?” 

“Yes, dear?”

“I love you.”

She chuckled.

“I love you too, Draco.” 

[mrsreinhart]

THE HUSTLE AND BUSTLE OF BEING LILI REINHART

In an Australian exclusive, Riverdale actress Lili Reinhart talks about playing a stripper in the woke, neon-soaked, Jennifer Lopez-produced film Hustlers

NEW YORK CITY: The pursuit of having-it-all has always been the beating heart of this metropolis. People from all over the world – including myself – come here for the vicarious thrill of the pace, the chase and the electricity felt post a career win. Talking industry, how you experience New York is directly proportionate to how hard you hustle for the opportunities; What you put in is what you get out. Nobody knew this more so than Ramona, the take-no-prisoners stripper brilliantly brought to life by Jennifer Lopez, in the new Lorene Scarfaria-directed film Hustlers. “This whole city, this whole country is one big strip club,” Ramona says. “You have people tossing the money and people doing the dance.”

Based on a 2015 New York Magazine article by Jessica Pressler, the diamonte-clad drama follows a group of female strippers who, post-recession, band together and drug unsuspecting Wall Street suits and run up their credit cards. Along with Destiny (Constance Wu), Ramona enlists colleagues Mercedes (Keke Palmer) and Annabelle (Lili Reinhart) to scour the city’s bars for men who can be lured by a glittery display of agile ass-shaking. It’s payback for the money the bankers stole from millions of people, Ramona says. Cardi B and Lizzo also make an appearance in a film that took an impressive US$33 million at the box office on its opening weekend in the States. (Be on the lookout for the first time you see Lopez’s pole-dance. With only one day to shoot, film crew said the 50-year-old walked on set as Ramona – and the strength in her performance, in a sequinned G-string, no less – will absolutely blow you away.)

Reinhart sits down with GRAZIA to discuss how she hustled her way to become one of the biggest stars on television, her most confronting scene in Hustlers and how she still finds New York incredibly overwhelming.

GRAZIA: Hustlers is about a group of women pushing and pushing until they get what they want. Can you think of a time in your life or your career where you’ve had to hustle really hard to make a dream become a reality?

LILI REINHART: “Yes! When I was 18 years old, I moved to LA for the first time and was struggling for five months. I didn’t have any money. I had saved up to move out to LA but it was slowly dwindling and I had to sort of go to every other audition that I was offered. I really had no money; I had to pinch pennies and eat at 7/11 – gas station food – in order to get by so much so that I decided I needed to move back home for a while in order to save up money again. I moved back in with my parents and when I was 19, I tried it all again. That was the kind of hustle I experienced. It took me a while!”

GRAZIA: The film is inspired by a real-life story. Can you tell us a little bit about your character Annabelle?

LR: “The characters were somewhat inspired by some of the girls involved in [Pressler’s story] but I think our director and writer Lorene had a specific vision for what she wanted Annabelle to be. She’s loosely based on one of the girls but I think her personality and specific traits of her character are all from Lorene’s brain. Lorene was very willing to collaborate with me on who Annabelle was and she was open to suggestions, open to improvisation, she really was an open book when it came to that so I just felt like I had free rein with what I wanted to do with Annabelle. Lorene had already done such a good job of creating her own paper that it was quite easy role for me to step into the role – a very loveable role. Annabelle is the baby of the group, she’s very sweet. When she was abandoned by her family after they found out what she was doing and where she was working, she was embraced by these women who opened their arms which was incredible. As a young girl who is more of a follower than a leader, I think Annabelle was one hundred per cent swept up in their influence and lead to this life of crime.”

GRAZIA: Like co-star Jennifer Lopez, did you visit any strip clubs to soak up what being a dancer was all about?

LR: “I actually didn’t go to any strip clubs during filming or before filming. I had been to a strip club before, twice actually. I took two private [dancing] lessons but JLo on the other hand was dancing for months in rehearsals. You don’t actually see me dance in the film but I sort of wanted to get a gist of what it was about and it was incredibly hard and you have to be extremely athletic to do it, it is not an easy thing to do. But it really does make you feel sexy, like it was really sexy and fun. I would definitely do it again, either as a workout class or go for another private lesson.”

GRAZIA: When you were researching the worlds of these women, what was one of the most surprising things you learnt? I know that Jennifer said she was surprised to learn most of these women are just struggling to get by.

LR: “When I had to do a scene where I was dancing in front of this guy who was watching and ogling at me. Now, clearly he’s a guy I didn’t know, he’s an actor but it felt weird. I was like, ‘Oh, this is strange having to dance in a seductive way in front of a man that I don’t know’ and it kind of made me think, ‘Wow I couldn’t do that’. It makes me uncomfortable. I wouldn’t be able to do that as a job like these women do, and I think what I took away from the film after having some conversations with the other girls on the set – and also just sort of doing a little bit of research – is that a lot of women look at stripping as performance art in order to get by. To do their job, they have to almost put on an act, that’s not who they are as people. They don’t really give the people that they’re dancing in front of any part of their real selves. I thought it was really an interesting way of thinking about it. It totally makes sense because I think it would feel a lot of more uncomfortable and sort of violating if you were actually giving these men a lot of who you were as a person.”

GRAZIA: Annabelle reminds me of a young Violet Sandford in the 2000 film Coyote Ugly – Piper Perabo’s character – sort of wide eyed, innocent and experiencing the dark nooks of New York City for the first time. Do you remember the first time you came to the city?

LR: “I was pretty young when I first came to New York. I think I was 12 years old and my mum used to drive me from Ohio to New York for auditions because I had begged her to. It was very overwhelming, I found and I still find New York incredibly overwhelming. Filming there for a month was really wonderful because usually every time I go to New York, it’s very quick – I’m in and out like 24 hours or two days – but this time I had actual free time to explore and sort of get the lay of the land more and see the city for what it was. I definitely have a lot more appreciation for the New York culture and how much it has to offer and how many different people are there. It’s truly amazing the amount of diversity that’s there but I do still find it quite overwhelming. Like, I feel like I have to take a deep breath when I step outside. You need to know where you’re going. You can’t be looking at our Google maps, you have to just know what your whereabouts and where you’re going and how fast you want to walk.”

GRAZIA: Jennifer Lopez was a producer on this film as well. How would you describe your relationship dynamic with her and what was she like to work with in between takes?

LR: “She’s wonderful. She’s like a mama bear. I got that vibe from her, even during my first day on set when we were filming a scene where we’re all in a jail cell together and Jennifer is just incredibly kind and very much like a mama bear. She held my hand in the scene and was treating me like I was a really close friend or a daughter that she cared about and that was really sweet. She’s very much a strong, badass woman who is really very motherly.”

[rawmeknockout]

Right since we're talking about redemption I want to put in my two cents: first of all, can Decepticons be forgiven? My answer would be yes, if Cybertron after the war decided that they want to move foreward and away from the war. If they wanna do that then they have to give all the survivors a second chance, and that includes Decepticons. Do they /deserve/ to be forgiven? I honestly don't know, all the victims would say FUCK no, but again, it's the only way to move foreward. (1/?)

Now on to Megsy. I see a huge difference between him and Drift in how they earned (or didn't earn) that second chance. First of all, Drift left the Decepticons before the war ended, Megatron defected only after, and just to save his ass from execution. Drift had a pretty awful couple of months in New Crystal City: he was locked up inside a house, Wing was beating the shit out of him every single day. (2/?)

His views of what it means to be strong were challenged, you see that when Wing asks Deadlock if killing and innocent organics was the point of the war, and Deadlock is forced to really think about what the Decepticons have become, and if he still wants to be a part of it. Megatron instead was immediatly givena position of power on the Lost Light, he did not one thing to deserve it, and besides him not being able to sleep and crying, it's not like we really see him suffer for what he's done (3/?

And lastly, Drift gets an offer by Lockdown who basically tells him "Megatron doesn't give a shit about Turmoil, he wants you back, you'll have your old position and power and all of this will be forgotten" and Drift /refuses/. He could have gone back to the Decepticons instead of defecting and getting the DJD on his ass, and he still refused because he didn't believe in the cause anymore. (4/5)

We've seen in that little episode with Skids that Megatron's views about organics has not changed one bit, can you be absolutely sure that, if someone offered Megatron his power and army back, he wouldn't go to war? I can't lol Sorry this got so long I just love Drift with my whole fuckin heart and I've wanted to have this debate for years, thanks for coming to my ted talk 5/5

aristocrowcy coming in once again with the only take i will accept or respect

idk if im fully onboard that Drift, and obvs all other cons, deserves complete redemption scot-free able to just go on with life as normal bc he was so vicious as a decepticon and you dont get high rank in a day but i guess its enough that at least a huge part of his character is his constant attempt to shove away what he once was no matter how strongly he feels or how reassuring those old violent behaviors were

Megatron will have to pry his redemption from my cold rotten grasp

[emberbent]

Book 2: Air | Chapter 6: Kismet

With the events of Gaoling behind her, and with her connection to her past lives reestablished, Shinza finally had time to focus solely on her airbending. Like her breathing, meditation, and yoga exercises, bending the air also came easily to her, due to her “air nomad’s spirit,” as Lo Sang said. Shinza came to each lesson with a clear head and a free spirit; during lessons and sparring matches, as her instructor had taught her, she constantly sought the path of least resistance, readily changing direction at a moment’s notice. She’d had little trouble with the gates exercise, and the obstacle course, though tough even for more experienced airbenders, didn’t seem like much of a feat to Shinza, who nimbly dodged the sandbags Jinora and Lo Sang dropped on her, ziplined herself down a long rope with the help of airbending, and climbed the rock face without a second thought as to the vast distance between her and the base of the mountain. Airball, however, was a different story.

“Okay, how about this?” Lo Sang called from halfway down the court, lithely hopping from post to post as if they were stepping stones set in the ground. “You beat me, and I’ll nominate you for the mastery test.”

Shinza paused, balancing on the two-foot wooden post in front of her goal. In her left hand spun the airball, driven by the current she produced. She knew she was good at airbending, and she’d been practicing a move she’d created on her own, knowing she wouldn’t have time to master all thirty-six forms. But she’d never been an athlete, and Lo Sang had been regularly kicking her ass on the court for weeks; she wasn’t sure this time would be any different. Or maybe, with the mastery test as motivation, she’d finally hold her own. “Okay, you’re on!”

Without warning, she put her whole body weight behind the airball, sending it spinning toward Lo Sang’s goal at the other end of the court. The young one leapt upward, as if she’d been born in the sky, and batted the ball with ease back toward Shinza without even touching it, and with twice as much velocity. On a ten-cent piece, Shinza maneuvered herself in front of the ball just before it could make it past her right shoulder, making a full turn and launching the ball back.

“The flourish was a little unnecessa--!” Lo Sang stopped short as the ball sailed over her head and through the goal, leaving the wooden middle spinning.

Shinza’s jaw dropped. Then she burst into a grin. “I believe that’s 1-0!”

Lo Sang was busy picking up her jaw. “You distracted me!” she hollered. “Not fair. Try again.”

“It absolutely was fair,” Shinza chuckled. “Admit it. You weren’t ready and I got you.”

“Okay, fine,” Lo Sang relented, retrieving the ball and tossing it weightlessly between her hands. “Best two out of three.”

Shinza’s dark brows arched. “You said if I beat you, you’d nominate me.”

Lo Sang’s eyes narrowed visibly from down the court. “Humor me,” she said. “It could have been a fluke. Admit that, grandma.”

Shinza nodded. “Okay then. Bring it on!” She gestured for Lo Sang to give it her best shot.

And she did. The ball came hurtling toward Shinza nearly faster than she could think to maneuver; but instinct took over, guiding Shinza to backbend over toward her post. By the time she righted herself, the ball was at face-level. With a deep breath and a powerful gust of wind, she sent back what Lo Sang had doled out. The young one leapt as high and fast as she could, but the ball still thunked into the goal, and the middle spun again.

Shinza shrieked in delight, surprising both of them.

“Wow,” Lo Sang muttered, briefly taken over by defeat, but then remembering the point of it all. Shinza had beaten her more than once; two out of three, as she’d prescribed. She was ready for the mastery test. She hopped weightlessly from post to post until she reached Shinza’s end. “Congratulations,” she smirked. “You ready to be tested?”

Before their evening meal, they took a walk along the northern face of the mountain, along the way passing the cliffside where Shinza had first gone into the Avatar state - where she’d learned the truth about her abilities. Shinza paused and put her hand up to the rock face. Lo Sang readied herself to comfort her, but she sensed a resolve in her as she took her hand away.

“How are you feeling?” Lo Sang inquired as they continued to the pond - a tranquil body of clear, cool water, whose bank backed up to the base of the temple.

“I’m okay,” Shinza said honestly. “I’ve learned a lot here - so much more than I thought I would. I’m feeling good about what’s next.” She slipped down the shallow stairs, removing her boots and rolling up her pants. Sticking her pale feet in the water, she bent over to gaze into the water, at the meticulously-placed tiles that made up the bottom of the pond.

Lo Sang did the same, leaving her small boots next to Shinza’s and coming to sit beside her. The breeze rustled a nearby tree which shed several leaves into the pond. A thought sat on the tip of her tongue, but she said nothing.

“What?” Shinza inquired, as if reading her mind.

Lo Sang met her gaze for half a second and then looked away, out into the expanse of mountains miles off in the distance. “Nothing. It’s… I don’t want to say.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Shinza replied softly. “But I won’t tell anyone if you do.”

Lo Sang shifted just a millimeter closer. “I’m just going to miss you, is all,” she confessed. “It’s not right for a teacher to have become so attached to a student - especially one whose sole duty is to leave and do great things. It goes against everything I was taught.”

Shinza cast her warm red-brown gaze down at her young teacher. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing,” she soothed. “How do you find the motivation to teach, or care, if you don’t get attached?”

Lo Sang smiled sadly, but didn’t say anything for a while. Shinza disturbed the water with her feet, stretching her toes. A few moments passed, and Lo Sang spoke again. “Do you have siblings?”

“No,” Shinza replied, squinting as she tried to follow Lo Sang’s train of thought. The air nomads historically hadn’t assigned much value to the notion of blood relations the way the rest of the world had, and for good reason. “I’m an only child. Why?”

Lo Sang leaned forward and gazed at her own rippling reflection in the water - snowy hair, darting grey eyes. “I don’t know,” she replied. “We don’t have siblings or parents in the temples - the nuns raise us. And that’s okay, because we’re one big family in a way. Jinora is technically my great-grandmother, but it doesn’t really matter. She’s kind of everyone’s great-grandmother. But sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to have a sister, you know? A sister who was just mine.”

Shinza softened, drawing the young one in toward her with a sweep of her arm.

“I was always happy being an only child,” she admitted. “I never wished I had siblings. But now I see what I missed out on. If I’d had a sister, I would hope she’d be just like you.”

Lo Sang looked up at her with a grin. “Really?”

“Well, yeah. You’re brilliant, calm, poised; you’re a master airbender, teaching the avatar, and you’re not even ten years old. You’re kind and compassionate… annoying as can be, but amazing. And you know what else? You’re Jinora’s great-granddaughter, and I was once Avatar Aang. So... in some way, I think we are sisters.”

Lo Sang hugged Shinza as tight around the middle as she could.

The test came the next morning - sooner than Shinza had expected. But since she felt she was ready, the elders didn’t see a reason not to proceed right away. Lo Sang helped Shinza tie the sash around her ceremonial tunic, crouching low to straighten the seams, even though she knew they’d get messed up again in just a few moments. “Are you nervous?”

Shinza snorted. “I think you’re more nervous than I am.”

Lo Sang straightened up tall. “I am not.”

“Whatever you say,” she replied with a smirk, leaning her head back and gathering all her shiny black locks into a top knot. To Lo Sang’s reflection in the mirror, she said, “I’m feeling okay. I have a handle on my form - I think you’ll really like it.”

Shinza felt fortunate to feel so at ease; she wasn’t sure she could endure the same feeling she’d had just before and after her firebending test.

Lo Sang gave a pleased smile, her flickering gaze lingering on her student, who she knew would make her proud. Then she ducked out of the dressing room, peeking her head back in a moment later. “They’re ready for you.”

She took one final cleansing breath, deliberately avoiding looking in the mirror so that she could slide into the state of mind she’d need to pass the test. Outside the room, the council of elders had taken their places in the main courtyard; Jinora sat in the middle of a long bench, flanked by two others on each side. Lo Sang had settled on the ground, cross-legged, at Jinora’s feet.

Shinza bowed deeply to the council.

“Avatar Shinza,” Jinora greeted, her voice surprisingly loud and authoritative. “We gather to judge you on your airbending mastery. Given that you have been here for less time than it takes to master the thirty-six forms, I assume you’ve mastered the basics and perfected a form of your own?”

“Yes, Master Jinora,” Shinza replied.

“Begin then, child.”

Shinza inclined her head again and began. She ran through a number of forms, seemingly random in order, but strung together seamlessly in a carefully choreographed performance. Her breathing remained steady, and amid the constant spinning, she had lost sight of the panel - she was alone with her bending, having found freedom within the space she occupied. Then, at last, she closed out with a circling of her arms to seal her energy.

Three of the council members applauded, but the rest remained still, including Jinora. “Proceed with your new form.”

“I need an assistant,” Shinza announced. “Master Lo Sang, would you please?”

Intrigued, Lo Sang puffed herself to her feet and sprinted toward Shinza, who gestured for her to move a couple yards away. “Attack me,” Shinza instructed.

Lo Sang spun nimbly on her little feet once, twice, three times, stopping with precision and thrusting the palms of her hands forward, generating a cannon-like gust of wind that tore toward Shinza.

With a rapid twisting motion of her arms, Shinza solidified the air in front of her, creating an invisible wall that dispelled Lo Sang’s cannon-gust; behind the wall, not a hair on Shinza’s head moved.

Lo Sang broke into a wide grin. Then she sprinted toward the wall, stopping short and holding out her hand. She brushed her fingers against it, relishing the feel - like touching breath. It was invisible, soft, and yet an incredible defensive technique.

“How you you find, Master Lo Sang?” Jinora inquired.

Dutifully, Lo Sang turned to the council, hands behind her back and standing up proud and tall. “The wall holds. I find my student fully understands the philosophy of airbending and integrates it into her practice. She has mastered her basics, and she has created a form that embodies the doctrine of our Air Nomad ancestors and of our Air Nation: defense first.”

Jinora let her detached facade fall, and her eyes crinkled as she smiled. “Then, the Avatar passes the mastery test. Excellent work, both of you.”

Lo Sang hollered and rocketed into the air, twisting in elation and floating back down to the ground. “You did it!”

“I told you I’d make you proud,” Shinza murmured. Lo Sang looked up, cupping her hand around her mouth and standing on her tiptoes to whisper something to Shinza, who nodded.

Lo Sang took a running start and hopped onto her air skates; Shinza produced a solid panel of air, the shape of which was unknown to the council until Lo Sang leapt up onto it, balancing on what seemed to be a ledge. Then she fell forward, skating smoothly down a curve and back up a symmetrical curve on the other side, coming to perch on the opposite ledge. She repeated the motion over and over again, clearly tickled. Shinza herself giggled, casting a glance at the council, who all seemed to be enjoying the moment too.

At last, as the sun began to set, the council disbanded. Shinza headed toward the dining hall herself, but Lo Sang stopped her.

“When I became a master, I got a whole ceremony and my tattoos,” she said. “But those things are only for Air Nation natives.”

Shinza shrugged. “It’s okay. I don’t need a fancy commemoration or anything. I didn’t get anything special when I passed my firebending test, either.”

“But still,” Lo Sang protested softly. “You deserve a little something special. You have to master four elements, after all.”

Unsure where Lo Sang was going with this, Shinza cocked her head.

“Kneel,” Lo Sang instructed, mimicking her best authoritative-Jinora voice. “Please.”

Shinza obeyed. Lo Sang lifted her index finger to the Avatar’s forehead and lovingly, deliberately traced the outline of an arrow on her brow. Then she took her hands and held them out, palms down, tracing a long path down her arms that terminated in an arrow on the back of each palm. Lastly, she gestured for Shinza to stand. She traced lines down her legs, ending with arrows on the tops of her feet.

“There,” Lo Sang said as she stood. “I think that’s better, don’t you?”

Shinza bit her lip to stop it from quivering, then slipped her arm around the young girl’s shoulders. “You’re the best.”

Lo Sang grinned and curled her arm around Shinza’s waist. Together, they made their way to the dining hall. “That’s what sisters are for.”

At sunrise the next morning, the temple’s congregation gathered at the courtyard to see Shinza off. It had been a long nine months, and yet it seemed to her like just yesterday, she had arrived here to this same scene; except now, the faces of the strangers who had first greeted her were familiar to her. Shinza had been allowed to keep the robes she’d worn to her test - a parting gift, Jinora had called it. She’d been keenly aware of the fact that Shinza’s Fire Nation clothes, the ones she’d worn to visit her family, had been irreparably damaged in Gaoling.

Shinza’s stomach knotted. She felt readier than she thought she would; now that the link to her past lives had been restored, she felt stronger and more confident than ever. But leaving Lo Sang and Jinora, after all they’d been through together, was bittersweet.

Lo Sang embraced Shinza one last time. Her heart melted when she heard little sniffs.

“We’ll see each other again,” Shinza whispered, rubbing her back.

Lo Sang replied in her high, sweet voice, “I know.” Then she stood tall, letting the wind rustle the fine white hairs that framed her face, and moved aside so that Jinora could move in.

The elder held the Avatar at arms’ length, studying her seemingly against an invisible portrait of who she’d been when she first arrived. “My dear, it has been a true honor,” she said, and then gathered Shinza into a gentle hug. “Perhaps we’ll meet again in the Spirit World. Now, go. Call your dragon - I’m sure your waterbending teacher is eager to meet you.”

Shinza hadn’t thought much on what came next; she’d been engrossed in her testing. “Who is it?” she asked. “What are they like?”

Jinora’s smile fell. “I don’t know, honey.”

Feeling the blood run out of her face, Shinza masked the rising panic she felt. How had she not thought to find herself a waterbending teacher? How could she have missed such a crucial step? She thought back to when she’d left the Island of the Sun Warriors, and realized that it had been Amrit who had found Lo Sang. With a pang in her heart, she realized she was on her own. She’d have to get to the North Pole - or the South Pole; she wasn’t even sure which place she should go to - and regroup. Resolutely, she nodded to Jinora and Lo Sang, stuck her index finger and thumb into her mouth, and whistled loudly for Xia.

The dragon didn’t appear right away, which wasn’t unusual. While she waited, she delicately traced the healed tattoo on her arm, feathering her fingertips over the black lines that made up Xia’s body. After a few more moments, Shinza turned to face the others, who had begun to grow restless. “She uh… she’s usually a couple seconds late.” But the seconds ticked by and turned into minutes. Lo Sang shuffled on her booted feet.

Shinza began to worry. Had Xia been shot down? Sweat beaded along her hairline.

“Look, there!” someone shouted. Xia burst through the clouds, carrying a rider on her back. But who…? Shinza squinted, and then yelped with joy, clapping her hands over her mouth.

Amrit rode proudly on the back of the dragon, his eager grin visible even from a distance. Xia flew with such velocity that she had to circle once or twice before touching down on the courtyard, and the wait was too long for Shinza to bear. Once Xia landed, Amrit slid elegantly off the dragon’s back. Shinza abandoned her little pack of belongings and leapt into his arms, unable to think to do anything else but to seek him in such a way. His breath left him and he curled his muscled arms around her lithe body, nearly tipping over, but righting them both with ease. She squeezed him tighter than she thought she could, and he reciprocated.

“Hey,” his voice quivered with emotion. “You okay?”

“Don’t let me go,” she responded, letting her tears flow freely.

He squeezed tighter. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Then she laughed. And he laughed. She couldn’t have thought of anything more perfect than Amrit showing up when she needed him most. Finally, Shinza felt for the ground with her toes, and they both straightened themselves out, sizing each other up.

“What are you doing here?” she sniffed. Her cheeks ached from the width of her smile. Relief and joy coursed through her veins. Whatever anxiety she’d felt moments ago was gone. She regarded him openly - he wore his finest clothing, even a thick cape to keep the mountain’s draft away from his bare, copper skin. On his face were painted the familiar ochre markings. “You look so fancy.”

“I, uh... missed you,” he confessed sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. His onyx eyes took her in. She looked like an entirely different woman; wiser, more confident. Remembering the way she and Xia had bonded when they’d first met, he couldn’t say he was surprised at the tattoo that covered her entire right arm. She’d always had impeccable posture, but now, as he regarded her, he felt her unmistakable presence as the Avatar. “And I’m here to ask for a job.”

Shinza’s brows furrowed. “I don’t understand.”

“Who’s looking out for you?” he inquired. “Do you have a waterbending teacher?”

“No, I don’t,” she replied, sobering.

“I may have found someone to teach you,” Amrit said. “I figured you were probably close to finishing your training here, so I took the liberty. I don’t have a resume or anything, but I have your back. I want to help you however I can.”

Shinza inquired softly, “What about your students? And your family?”

“My parents have my sister’s kids to look after. My students have all graduated, and the next round will be too young to start for a few years yet. Look… when you first came to the Island, I knew without a single grain of doubt that I was meant to help you. And after you left, things didn’t feel the same.”

She studied him, broad-shouldered, stating his case. While flattered that he felt the need to explain it at all, she knew kismet when she felt it. All the same, she pretended to deliberate.

Then she stuck her hand out with a smirk. “Team Avatar?”

Visibly relaxing, Amrit grinned, ignored her hand, and instead gathered her up in his arms again. “Team Avatar.”

From behind them, a small voice demanded, “So wait, who is this guy?”

Having forgotten they weren’t alone, Shinza turned to Lo Sang. “This is Amrit Han,” she said. “He was my firebending teacher. Amrit,” she said, turning to him and gesturing, “Please meet Masters Jinora and Lo Sang.”

“It’s my utmost pleasure,” said Jinora, inclining her head. As soon as Amrit’s gaze swept onto Lo Sang, however, the little one’s eyes went wide and her cheeks blossomed with a deep red blush. “Wow. You’re really handsome.”

“Right?” Shinza sounded. “You could just punch him.”

“I… hang on, what?” Amrit chuckled, a confused smile spreading over his face.

“On that note, Xia’s waiting,” Shinza cued, gathering her pack. The two mounted the dragon’s back and held on tight as Xia got a running start and leapt off the ground, rocketing northward. Shinza looked back with ease, a friend to the open air now, and sent her love back to the temple.

@chromecutie @hetapeep41 @jaymzbush @my-remedy-is-euphoria

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

The Bad Guy (1)

Bucky x fem!Reader

CHAPTER 1: THE FAKEOUT

Series: A Bad Guy ruins Bucky’s day. But turns out it’s the bad guy he needs to seek help from after all. New York may not have changed much for him, but there are certain things he is discovering to be quite new!

Chapter warnings: swearing.

A/N: @writing-prompt-s​ once gave a prompt last year that stuck with me…I don’t remember the exact wordings but it had something to do with the reader/writer being the villain having a crush on the hero, always finding excuses (or crimes) to meet them. One day they are getting their ass beat and you decide to jump in and save the day. This one is same but with a liiiiiiiitle twist

Word Count: There are times I wish I was a llama. or a cat. Now is one of those times.

“You can do it. You. Can. Do. It. You’re the man. You’re the freaking man. Yes. Yes. You got it. You absolutely got it.”

“You okay, man?” Bucky had to ask.

“You absolutely don’t got it. I can’t do it, man. I’m outta here.”

Bucky grabbed Scott’s arm before that guy could rush back to the SUV they had come in. As much as he wanted to kick this sweaty ex-thief out of here, he knew the plan wasn’t going to work in Scott’s absence. He needed a guy to make him seem legit. At least that’s what Natasha had told him.

“Calm down,” Bucky reassured the man who was sweating tennis balls by now, “you just need to show the ID. Natasha has taken care of the rest and I would be doing the talking. Okay?”

Scott was half-listening by the time Bucky had finished. “Huh? Yeah! Yeah! Cool cool cool cool cool cool cool!”

Bucky could empathise on some level with Scott. After all, it was weird for an ex-con to visit a prison as a fake lawyer while trying to get a felon out of there under the noses of the authority. 

The plan was pretty simple. Arrange a meeting with that woman whom Bucky had met earlier, gain her trust, get her out of jail under the pretence of getting her to help with an unsolved case and find out the location and identity of the people behind the theft of Tony’s precious painting.

Simple.

Then why was Bucky’s back feeling so wet whenever a humid wind blew at the opening of every rusty door in the maximum-security prison?

The room was covered in cameras in all corners. To Bucky’s satisfaction, Natasha already told him and Scott they did not record any conversations for lawyer-client confidentiality- so any conversation that was about to happen was going to stay between these three. The musty smell of the room was somehow familiar to both of them, bringing mixed feelings to the surface- to which they barely had time to react when a figure in orange jumpsuit walked in, forcing all their attention on it.

“Hey boys!” You greeted the party, already recognising Bucky from the rendezvous you two had a few days ago. “Ay!! You’re that beat cop no one listened to that day!”

Bucky did not know how to react to that. He was not really expecting their interaction to go this way. Scott, on the other hand, was a little relieved to have your attention glued on anyone but him.

“Oh, right! I told you we’d be having the conversation after I get processed,” you added with a tone of realisation, “Wow, I didn’t know you were so into that robbery!”

You dragged the chair out with your leg and sat on it, legs spread wide- keeping comfort over societal mannerisms. Resting your cuffed hands on the table you gave a knowing smirk to Bucky, who was trying to figure out what exactly was going on behind that viciously delicious smile. “Or is it something else that is intriguing you?” You raised a brow. "Did I use that right? Intriguing you? Something that you're intrigued by?"

"That sounds better," Scott blurted out, regretting it the very second because now your suspicion-filled eyes were all for him.

"You…" you narrowed your eyes at Scott, making the man sit straight in his chair.

"He's my lawyer," Bucky was quick to dive in, "I mean, he's the lawyer we-I... he is interested in represen...He’s a lawyer." For the first time in his life, Bucky was glad Scott and Sam had forced him to watch Law and Order.

“...ok...kay.”

"Scott. Scott Lang," he introduced himself, bringing his hand forward for a shake.

“You have the eyes of a thief,” you stated while Scott’s hand was still in the air, making the poor man slowly take it back while his pale face looked at Bucky with an ‘I told you so’ expression. “No wonder you’re a lawyer.”

Next moment, you slumped into the chair, looking a little offended at something Bucky did. Or so he thought. “Did I hurt you?”

Bucky blinked at you before his brain smacked his accelerating heart to give something instead of just sitting there. “I’m sorry?”

“Did I hurt you the last time we met? I get that I have some kinda...powers but I don’t just throw them around. We could have had a conversation over some prison coffee. You didn’t have to bring your friend here.”

It took three seconds at minimum for Bucky’s brows to shoot up and his lips to crack wide in a smile. “W-what? No! He’s not here for me. He’s here for you. We’re getting you out of here.”

It was hard to put a word into the expression you just gave. Your eyes shifted between the two men while your open lips were shut and your face tilted a little towards the door.

“Uhhhhh-” was the only thing coming out of your mouth till your body got up from the chair and your cuffed hands pressed together towards your company- “listen, cop guy...man. I really meant it in a casual way when I said we’ll ‘talk later’. I don’t really know how much you’ve read into this. I mean, I would say ‘at least buy me dinner first’ but I am kinda scared as to where that might lead us. Good, God! Now I’m wondering what would you have done if I’d said something more like ‘hey, let’s f-”

“NO!” Bucky nearly jumped off his seat, his hands over the table trying to stop your words from coming out from a safe distance. “I’m not getting you out of here because I like you-” he stopped right when he heard himself, watching your curious eyes witness his mouth play him like a ten-cent flute- “no, I mean I like you but not in that kind of...what I mean to say is I know why you tried to steal that painting. I found out from my sources that these paintings are being used by this new mafia around the world supplying narcotics and codes on the trafficked girls and boys to their buyers for bids. And I was hoping you could help us catch the people behind the...painting.”

Bucky was cursing himself right and left, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks at nearly messing it up. Why did she have to be this accurate? His inner voice mocked him before smacking him in the head and calling him a jock.

“I don’t know if you remember but I was caught by you guys while threatening the New Yorkers.”

“While you were trying to help Ste-Rogers. Captain Rogers. And no one caught you. You surrendered yourself.”

“I hate cops. I can’t work with them.”

“You won’t be working with them. You’ll be working with us. Me and a couple of my friends.”

“I don’t work for free. And before you put a price tag on my work, remember that I am inside this prison because I want to stay here. For now.”

“How about a date with Steve Rogers?”

“Dude, you can’t put a price on my-wait what?”

“I’ll ask him to go out with you if you catch those sons of bitches.”

Maybe it was the serenade playing from somewhere inside the prison. Or maybe it was the sun strolling in from the windows. Or maybe it was the mention of his best friend that made your pupils go wider, your fingers work over the skin on your arm, doodling some invisible hearts with a bitchface before you straightened from the table and the sound from your cuffs nearly made Scott fall off his chair.

“I don’t work with supes. They disgust me. Especially Tony Snark and his redhead sister and that C-grade Legolas. I’m out.”

“We won’t be working with them. But I can pull a few strings to get you that date. I promise. And I’m sure Steve...Rogers would be more than willing to go out with you if there is one less bad guy walking out on the streets.”

“...you better not be joking about this-”

“James Barnes.”

“James. Because if you are, I will drive a monster truck into your house, take away your pet and fuck your mother till she forgets her own name.”

“My mother’s dead,” he was quick to add while Scott gasped at the audacity of this bitch- you; you were the bitch.

“Your girlfriend, then,” you simply shrugged. Bucky’s brain straight away flashed to a two-second fantasy of you and Natasha in her room, on her bed.

“Bold of you to assume he has a girlfriend,” Scott chortled till he could see Bucky’s Winter Soldier parts staring at him with all the coldness.

.

It wasn’t in his nature to give a place to bad things inside his Bucky heart. It definitely wasn’t in the now peaceful Winter Soldier’s nature to peek from inside Bucky and stare with stars in his eyes at the woman coming out in her shirt and jeans topped by a leather jacket. She’s bad, his mind kept ringing the gong, real bad. And when that wasn’t enough, she put on those aviators to shield her eyes from the harsh noon sun, walking towards him with the strut that said she was woman enough to grab someone by the balls if need be. You’ll get yourself killed by a woman, Barnes, his mind went off again.

“No, I won't,” he muttered out loud.

“What?” Scott asked.

“What?”

Bucky tried to ignore him, his eyes stuck on you as you came and stood by them.

“Keys,” you ordered, watching Bucky fish his pockets without breaking eye contact and handing the keys of the Land Rover to you. “Let’s go.”

Scott grabbed Bucky by the arm to pull him closer. “Dude! She has the keys!”

“...okay? Why are we whispering?”

“Wh-What are we gonna do if she tries to do something...evil!”

“Like what?”

“Like I don’t know, throw us off a cliff! Or drive us into a wall. Or worse, go over the speed limit in the city!!”

“Relax! I’m here,” Bucky reassured before opening the door to the back seat of the car for him. “I got you.”

Hopping in and sitting next to you, he noticed for the first time how you smelled like a pleasant mixture of spring and citrus.

“What cologne is that?” you called out from nowhere while turning on the engine, turning to look at Bucky.

“Uhhh….it’s an aftershave. For men.” He nodded, cursing himself instantly for adding that last bit. Of course, it’s for men, you twat!

“Smells nice,” you complimented before turning out of the parking spot.

“I’m glad you’re on board with this,” Bucky stated, trying to undo the mess he made a few seconds ago, “I wasn’t trying to overstep when I-we decided to get you to help us out.”

You chuckled, shifting gear.

“Oh, sweetheart! One, I loved this isn’t an automatic. Those are for weak testicled-babies. And two, you clearly misinterpreted me in there. When I said I was not expecting you to bail me outta jail for a date, I wasn’t grossed out by it, darling. I liked it.” You leaned a little closer to Bucky- having a glorious view of his pupils go wide like oceans with endless pits- to end him with one last whisper and wink. “In a very kinky way.”

And just as the car swerved out to the wide road, Scott could feel the air leave his lungs. “What have we done,” he whispered to himself, questioning all that was about to come.

[resetmypatientviolence]

Control (Drake x MC) [M]

Pairing:  Drake x Jaela

Word Count: 8,178

Rating: M

Warnings: Language, Sex

Song Accompaniment: Motivation-- Normani

Description: With weeks of meetings and morning sickness with the royal heir, it’s been a while since Jaela and Drake have had time as a couple. But when their schedules line up and Jaela hopes this little heir can stay calm for a moment... it’s time to show Drake whose in control. 

Author Note: Happy Thirsty Thursday and FINALLY some goddman new material from me. I hope y’all like it! Nothing too crazy, but Drake likes those handcuffs....

Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/drakewalkerwhippedMasterlist is found on my blog bio.

“You know,” Drake says, leaning on the bathroom doorframe while Jaela brushes her teeth after the latest bout of morning sickness. She turns, surveying him with a raised eyebrow. “This is the first day that… our schedules actually line up, Abdi.”

There’s something… silky smooth and husky to his voice all at once, making her stomach turn. Not from the royal heir… but… his meaning isn’t lost on her. Jaela turns, spits out the toothpaste and rinses her mouth, Drake coming behind her. His calloused—still—hands come to her hips, fingers slipping under the bottom of tank-top on her so hot skin. It sends shivers down her spine, and even more so when his hips press flush to hers, his excitement at what could happen evident.

But, Jaela glances at her watch. They’ll be late. Yet… she meets his eyes in the mirror, a smirk on her lips. “We’re going to be late, Drake.”

“I know,” he chuckles, lips ghosting across her skin, sending a trail of fire wherever they offer the lightest of touches. He brings her hips back and she grinds her ass against him, biting her lower lip. The familiar—and much missed—heat flares low in her abdomen, warm and tempting, fire in Drake’s eyes. “Why not a little bit of some--”

But, he’s cut off, Jaela breaking free from his sensual hold to kneel over the toilet, the wave of nausea striking her faster than a bolt of lightning. Drake holds back her hair and rubs her back, murmuring quietly to her, the deep longing and need for her body gone. Instead, it’s the comforting, kind, and so very patient father to be that Jaela’s grown accustomed to over the past thirteen weeks.

Nothing really comes up, but Jaela groans, head in hands when its passed, allowing her to breathe for a moment. “So… that kinda killed the moment….”

Drake kneels himself and chuckles, wrapping his arms around her body, hands resting on the stomach that’s just starting to grow. “Well… maybe not right now but…” He kisses her cheek and Jaela giggles at the way his stubble feels against her. “We have meetings together… you don’t have any late-night ones… I don’t….”

“And I don’t have to even have to face another day of the paps trying to get a picture of me and see if there’s a bump…”

Drake smiles, nuzzling her, hands tightening around the small bump that’s formed. Easy enough to hide when she doesn’t want to deal with the press yelling at her to see the evidence of her pregnancy, or to turn on the news and hear the speculation over her latest outfit and what it shows or doesn’t. No public engagements today. “Who would have thought we’d be so busy. You’d think we’d always be together, being the parents of the royal heir…”

Jaela laughs, hands falling over his. Together, they squeeze. “Mm… well, right now I don’t have to waddle around and can do everything. I’m sure once I start showing… we’ll have to be together and put on those smiling faces. But for now… we’re just busy… and I can’t stop puking…”

“But…” His hand slides down… down… every second feeling like an eternity, his trail blazing—then bursting into a ball of warmth when two fingers press over her clit, the fabric between feeling like nothing as he circles, slowly. She gasps, voice caught in her throat. It’s been far too long. “Tonight… we actually have time to spend together, Abdi.”

She’s about to tell him to wait, stay—they have time, they can be late—but he kisses her cheek and stands, stretching, leaving her panting. “You—”

“Like you said… we’ll be late,” he says with a wink, stepping out of the bathroom. “Besides,” he adds, popping his head in the doorway, Jaela glaring at him now that the waves and tease of pleasure subsided—but only in the slightest. “Didn’t you say we have some meetings together? Should be fun.”

The wink he offers and his grin tells Jaela all she needs to know, the familiar warmth and ideas of sneaking away running through her head. “Fine…” she finally says, getting up on shaky legs. “I’m holding you to that promise, Walker. And no using fucking me in a closet as an excuse to not make tonight happen in our bed. You better not be rusty.”

Drake laughs, putting on a shirt. “Do you have that little faith in me, Abdi? Do you really think I’d refuse to make love to my wife as many times as I can in a day? Bush league.”

Jaela rolls her eyes, waving him away, and goes back to the sink to brush her teeth… again.

Yet, as she brushes, there’s a sparkle in her eye—and a burning desire coursing throughout her veins, ready for the day—and night—to come. After all, it’s been weeks due to their schedules, the fact that she certainly didn’t want Drake to even think of touching her with how shitty she’s felt… and well, their little royal heir certainly isn’t making the times she wants to make love easy with well-placed waves of nausea, leaving Drake to handle himself.

That said, when Jaela gets dressed, she makes sure she highlights her breasts just right in her top.

*

Yes, she’s the Champion of the Realm and the head of the Royal Council… but god, if Jaela has to hear Godfrey drone on for another minute about taxation of apples, she’s about to fall asleep and not be sorry for it one bit. She blinks slowly, hand in chin, seeing two of him.

“If we propose a two-cent tax increase on our apple exports….”

Godfrey’s voice fades away… but not because she’s asleep. No, this is much better.

Drake’s hand falls on her thigh, squeezing it. Godfrey’s words disappear, Jaela electrified by Drake’s touch. Out of the corner of her eye, she notes his smirk, the quiet laughter contained in a single breath. He draws his finger along the edge of her pencil skirt, slipping the tip of his finger under it, shocks doing laps throughout her body.

After another few seconds, Drake pushes up her skirt—just a bit—fingers brushing against her inner thigh. He’s far from his goal, but it’s enough to make her jump in her seat, thighs untouched like that for so long. For a second, Godfrey’s eyes linger on her, but then he continues talking about apple exports—but she doesn’t hear a word, Drake’s hand moving higher, offering her thigh a squeeze and brush of his fingers, making a perfect circle with each deliberate motion.

Jaela bites her lower lip, looking ahead. Hana offers an eyebrow quirk, glancing between the two of them, understanding in her expression. Jaela’s face warms (though, this certainly… isn’t the first time they’ve played this game), and she tries to reign in her excitement, hands clasped together, shooting Drake a warning look.

Yet, he only smirks more. Of course he wouldn’t stop. She knew this. It would pointless, really. Well, she tried. Jaela tightens her jaw, trying to keep the sounds of anticipation for pleasure under wraps, letting Godfrey drone on, clearly the only one passionate about this subject.

Drake’s damning and tantalizing hand moves higher… higher… so damn close to where she’s the warmest, warm radiating out from her, the coil within her tightening further in on itself, ready to burst at the lightest touch from him. She gulps, hard as Drake’s hand pauses, warm against her inner thigh. His face is stone-cold, looking intently at Godfrey, but Jaela notes the slight pink flush to his cheeks that betray him in the slightest.

She snaps her attention back to Godfrey—good god she doesn’t ever want to think of him while she’s this worked up, but Drake forced her hand—and Drake lifts his fingers, ready to find their long-awaited purchase, black thong on for a reason—

“Oh--!” Jaela covers her mouth, but it’s too late.

“Yes, Duchess?” Godfrey asks, eyebrow raised, looking her up and down. “Is there something you’d like to add?”

What? She couldn’t help herself at the tiniest of touches Drake offered. It’s been a rough first trimester. She shakes her head and slowly lowers her hand. Drake removes his from her and clears his throat. “N-no,” Jaela says, crossing her legs. “I—I—just a bug flew by me. I was startled.”

Hana holds back her laughter, looking away. Godfrey narrows his eyes. “I didn’t see—”

“Got it!” Drake says, clapping his hands together, cheeks still pink. “So, uh… importing the apples…?”

“Exporting,” Godfrey sighs, irritated, rolling his eyes. “As I was saying…”

And Jaela returns to tuning him out, shooting a glance at Drake, eyes sparkling. Despite their almost slip-up, it only makes Jaela want him more… the anticipation almost too much to bear. In fact, fuck it. He’s horny. She’s horny. What’s stopping them?

“Oh—” Jaela stands, suddenly, then claps a hand over her mouth, other on her stomach. Godfrey grits his teeth.

“What is now, Duchess?”

“I—” Who said having notoriously bad morning sickness was a bad thing? It makes a believable cover. “I-I need to excuse myself,” she says, trying her best to sound sick. “Morning sickness—”

“For the love of…” Godfrey mumbles. “Go.”

“I’d better go with her,” Drake says, not missing a beat. Jaela fakes a heave and Godfrey winces. “Come on Jae…” Drake says with mock concern, the smile on the corners of his lips unmistakable. He places a hand on her back and escorts her out of the Royal Council chambers, the two in a clear hurry.

The palace hallways are empty—and they don’t want to wait—so Drake opens the nearest door, a closet, and pulls Jaela in, lips on each other as they shut the door, bumping into supplies. His lips taste like honey and smoke swirled together, just sweet enough, but not too much, heavy on hers. He kisses her hard, hiking one leg of hers around his waist and twisting his hand in her hair. “That wasn’t our most slick escape…” he says between kisses.

Jaela smiles against his lips, tongues flicking against the other. “But it worked. Now—”

She’s silenced with his kiss and a sharp hit against her ass. She grips his hair and tugs, hard, more than satisfied by the moan that Drake emits, breath hot against her mouth. Jaela bites down on his lower lip, silencing his moan and pulls him closer to her—if there is any space left—and trails her lips down his neck, the taste of him on her tongue, salty and familiar—god, she missed this.

His Adam’s Apple bobs as he throws his head back, lost to the feel of Jaela’s lips against his neck. “It’s been so long, Abdi…” Drake murmurs, rough hands sliding up her body. One slides back down to her ass, kneading the flesh over her tight skirt, hugging every curve. The other settles on her left breast. There’s some pain, a familiar soreness over the past few weeks, but Jaela embraces it, the sensation of his massaging making her nipples stiffen.

“Mm… who knew that this kid would already be interrupting our alone time…” Jaela whispers, but she doesn’t mind. Of course she doesn’t. She loves this child already.

But she also misses the way Drake pushes her against the wall and his lips simply devour her, like a man whose gone without food and water for weeks, drinking in everything about her: taste, feel, smell, her sounds, small moans as he kisses her and slips a hand under her shirt, over her lacy bra. His thumb brushes her stiff peak and she shivers, back arching against the wall at how the smallest of touches could make pleasure run from her nipple to her lower belly, warm and wanting more.

Jaela gasps, but Drake’s hot—so, so hot—mouth covers hers, only for a brief second—because it finds its way to her ear, tracing the shell before whispering, his breath a fiery prickle of pleasure in her ear, “I’m going to fuck you till you can’t walk, Abdi.”

If only words could make her orgasm—because that would, flashes of what he could do to her, what he’s done to her in closets and hidden spaces in the palace flash through her mind. Moment later, he’s kissing her again, starting to unbutton her top. Her stomach drops and rolls.

The first button undone and Jaela’s stomach twists again, and it has to be from anticipation—

Another button and her skirts pushed up to her mid-thigh, and there’s another turn of her stomach—

“Shit,” Jaela gasps and pushes Drake away. This isn’t from pleasure. It’s from—“I’m gonna be sick—”

There’s only a second to roll down her skirt before she darts out of the closet, Drake close behind her, hand over her mouth. The nausea is the strongest it’s ever been, and she swears there’s bile in her mouth. The halls are a blur as she runs past servants and guards, maybe a noble or two, she can’t see because she’s only focused on the upcoming bathroom—

A swift bump breaks her hyper focus on the bathroom and containing the vomit that comes up and onto Godfrey’s polished shoes. “What the—Duchess—”

Jaela looks up, wiping her mouth, into the furious face of Godfrey. Her cheeks warm, but not because of how Drake made her feel just a minute ago. Drake stands behind her, hands pushing back some of her hair. “Uh, she’s got sick again—”

Godfrey’s eyes look them up and down and he scowls, shaking off his shoes. “Next time you try to sneak off and shirk your duties for some needless pleasure, use the bathroom.” He stomps off, grumbling, and Jaela buttons back up her shirt, gulping the remnants of her vomit. It’s not pleasant, but she’s used to it by now, the taste barely phasing her.

“That was the most embarrassing thing of my life,” she sighs, looking down at the mess, lunch on the floor. Some passerby’s pale and scurry away, but her and Drake only look down at the mess, both used to Jaela’s latest… trick. “And on Godfrey no less…”

Drake kisses her cheek, hands lightly on her hips. “You don’t feel sorry.”

She doesn’t try to contain her smirk. “Not a bit.”

“I’ll get a mop from that closet…”

“And I’ll get back to work… after the bathroom.”

They part and Jaela sighs, the promise of a good old classic fuck in the palace closet dashed by the impeccable timing of their baby. Jaela shakes her head and rests her hand on the little bump, imagining that this kid is swimming with delight. “I agree, he’s an asshole and deserved that, little love, but can you at least calm down enough for your parents to cuddle tonight?”

Maybe her words will do something or maybe…

Thank god she made it to a bathroom in time, this time.

*

After the whole Godfrey incident, Jaela’s grateful that she didn’t need to leave her office for the rest of the day, meetings outside of her office non-existent, because she’s spending half of the time in the bathroom either throwing up water she just drank or hovering over the toilet wondering if the saltine crackers she had would make their grand appearance. It’s not fun—at all. She knew this royal heir would be a hassle (what baby isn’t?) but this early? Not that she isn’t grateful for this miracle of a baby but…

Really, she just wants to spend quiet time with Drake, to enjoy their last few months as a pair without any interruptions. Maybe that’s selfish of her... and she can’t be selfish anymore as a parent... but damn, he riled her the hell up and she wants to spend time in bed with him without worrying if she’s going to throw up on him. She’s certain it’s a kink he’ll never have. Or anybody, for that matter.

So, while Jaela stews in anger and sickness and she’s still fucking horny all afternoon... the sun falls and a rich twilight spreads across the land, city lights twinkling in the distance from the palace.

“Hey,” Drake says, popping in her office. Jaela looks up and a grin spreads across her face. Despite the flustered and angry mood she’s been in all day, he makes it go away just like that. And she hasn’t made a bathroom run in an hour. She shuts off her computer and hurries to him, meeting him in the middle of the room, arms wrapping around his neck, lips meeting each other without hesitation.

He chuckles against her lips, holding her close. “How are you feeling?” He asks when they part. “You taste minty.”

Jaela rolls her eyes and turns getting her purse and jacket, more than ready to go home. “I mean... what’s there to report? There’s a reason I’ve been in here all day.” She glances down and touches her stomach. It’s a small bump but she’s still on awe of it. Still though, she smiles, hand resting there as Drake takes her other hand and they walk together.

“I’m sorry you’re... not feeling well. Can’t help but think that some of that is my fault…”

Jaela chuckles and Drake follows, a fond smile on Jaela’s lips. “I mean… without you there wouldn’t be a little royal heir having the time of their life in here so…” He laughs fully, bumping her hip as they exit, their car already pulled up.

“Fair…. But we’ll have a nice dinner tonight and if you’re up to it…” The arch of his eyebrow is enough to send a spark down her spine and right to where it matters.

“Oh, I’m up for it, Walker. Morning sickness can’t last forever, right?”

*

It’s a weird dinner.

Weird because Jaela’s ready to pounce at any moment but Drake’s right. They should eat, she needs to eat, and then they need to wait and see if she’s in the clear—even though Jaela’s already in silk shorts and a tank-top that makes her breasts pop and she touched up her make-up, hair ready for him to pull and grip and stare at in awe when she rides his dick.

What?

It’s been a few weeks.

Her legs rest on his as they read in the living room. Well, she’s not reading, glancing up at Drake every few seconds while he absently rubs and brushes his fingers up and down her legs, never going too high… but high enough to make her thong wet, already. Yet, he doesn’t look, nose buried in a book.

She’s going to burst… and she gently taps his book with her foot, making it hit his nose. “Hey!” he jumps, but chestnut eyes glitter. “It was a good part—”

“Um… better than my pussy?”

His eyes widen in surprise and the works he wants to say get caught, but there’s excitement there, the twitch in his jeans evident enough. “… Nothing in the world is. So, uh—do you think—”

“Fuck yes.”

She’s pretty sure they’ve never ran that fast—not even when fighting Anton—but they beeline to the bedroom. They didn’t talk about what they planned to do, but somehow, they work as one, words unspoken as Jaela dips into the closet to change into that lingerie he loves so much, tits just a bit too tight—but nice to look at while Drake lights some candles, flicks on soft music, and turns off the lights, making the large bedroom cozy as can be, warm and inviting for his wife.

Jaela only pauses to catch her breath after she’s changed, looking herself over. She smirks, feeling… sexy, for the first time in forever. There’s been so little time to do this little number and to even feel the want to be pleasured by Drake during this pregnancy… that damn, it feels just nice to look and feel as sexy as he makes her feel even at her worse.

Slowly, Jaela peeks her head out to the warm, magical glow of the bedroom. Drake’s stripped down to his boxers and lays on the bed, propped up on an elbow, eyebrow raised. “You gonna come out of there…?”

“It’s just so…” Jaela steps out and takes in the candles—so much of it reminds her of their first time at the Homecoming Ball, the world coming together so perfectly before a near disaster—and for a moment, she forgets the goal they ached to achieve. Drake gulps across the room and then stands up, taking her hands. This pulls her out of her amazement at the sight. “It’s so… perfect… Drake….”

He walks back, bare feet padding softly on the carpet. Jaela follows, brown eyes warm as the candlelight that surrounds them, the rest of the world falling away to just the two of them in this room where so much love—and so much more to go—has occurred. “Only for you,” he breathes and sits on the bed. He releases her hands and sets them on her hips, pinkies dragging over the fabric. “I love you, Jae…”

“And I love you…”

At that, Jaela slides on his lap, straddling his hips. Soft hands come to his neck and cheek before her lips meet his—but when they do, god, it’s like they’re kissing for the first time in that study, passion, a rough tenderness, and love—one that was always there—bubbles up and into the kiss, Jaela lowering her hips to his, grinding against him, already hard as a rock for her. Somehow, even with all the puking, she still has it.

Drake pushes down on her hips as they kiss for minutes on end, guiding her grinding against him. Sometimes he slips a flinger in-between her legs to feel the slick fabric—and he shudders—but no, Jaela wants this slow, and she removes his hand, putting his back on her burning body. “Be good,” she whispers, kissing his neck.

“Yes ma’am…” Drake mutters and leans back, bringing her down to him, chest to chest. His hands slide to her ass and gives each cheek a firm squeeze before he drags his nails up from her ass to upper back. The music drifts in and out of Jaela’s conscience as they kiss, soft and hard, on the lips drifting down. She feels his firm body, taunt and tight, fingers brushing over his covered member.

God, she missed this.

Missed of it. All of him.

There was something about having real duties carrying the royal heir—but most importantly, their perfect baby—that took away their control of their lives. Yes, she wanted to help and make Cordonia better and she knew what a duchess would entail—but Drake’s the most important person in the world—she just wants to show him how much she loves him. How much she wants him. How much he means to her—but yet—

It all happens so fast. Drake’s making a move to unhook her bra, she’s biting his lower lip, tugging on it, ready to show him how much she wants him—but the next moment, she feels the familiar lurch, the one warning, and she gets off of him in a flash. She barely makes it, but she makes it, over the toilet and gagging, then feeling the familiar acid slide up and out of her.

This time though, there’s tears. Hot, hot tears that escape with her.

Drake, like the morning, is behind her, rubbing her back. He even kisses between her shoulder blades, offering words of love. “Do you need a washcloth? Anything… oh, oh Abdi… don’t cry…” But she cries, folding into his arms when the puke finally stopped.

“I-I just wanna—I just wanna be sexy for—and spend time—but I-I can’t s-stop being sick—” she hiccups. “I-I even wore this—and I can’t even use it—b-because I’m just sick—” He tries to speak, but she continues as he rocks her on the cool tile. “I-I’m not in control o-of anything… this pregnancy… I can’t sto-stop throwing up… all of these d-duties—”

At this, he pauses his gentle rocking, sucking in a breath. “I-I barely have time t-to spend with you, it’s been crazy since our wedding, Drake, not a-a chance to be husband and wife and—and—” White hot tears spill out as the confessions that she’s been bottling up escape, too. “And w-we really didn’t have a choice to have the heir, Drake, the HEIR—and once their born it’s gonna be all… all of these fucking rules and lessons—and I just wanted to enjoy our time b-before they’re here, and we-we don’t have any control bu-but I can’t even do that because I’m so sick and… and I just wanna be with you, Drake, n-not as a duchess and duke or parents yet… just… just us—we’re so good….”

For a few minutes there’s nothing but the sounds of her sobs dwindling as Drake rocks her, lips to the top of her head. Soon though, they stop and she basks in the warmth of his body. Finally though, he breaks the silence.

“Jaela… I… I understand exactly how you feel. That… that once this baby is born, our lives will change—change more than we planned for or can even expect. And… and yeah, we’re gonna lose that control.” There’s an edge of sorrow there, but it’s quickly gone as he tilts up her chin and looks in her eyes. “But you are the most beautiful woman to me. The most in-control person I’ve ever met. I don’t care if you throw up every day until they’re born. I’ll want you all the same and will wait until you can handle sex. That doesn’t matter. The only thing that does is you and your well-being. I’m not going anywhere, and I know that we’re going to make our child the most down to earth and kindest heir there is—and one that is in very much control of their life. So… let’s get some tea, we can cuddle—”

“No,” Jaela says, sitting up. Drake looks confused, hand resting on her exposed bump. He’s right. And also, fuck her sickness. She’s an expecting mom, but she’s still his wife—and she’s very much in control of how she wants to fuck her husband and when. Jaela tilts his chin towards her, smirk forming. “Go in the bedroom. In front of the mirror. Wait for me. Fuck this—I want to fuck you and I’m going to take control and get what I want.”

A spark goes through the both of them at the same time, electricity spreading out from her fingers through their bodies as one. He grins. “Yes, Duchess—” Oh, he knows what she likes. “Anything else you’ll request?”

Jaela grins and resists kissing him. “Boxers off. On your knees.”

“Mm. Yes.”

He goes for a kiss but Jaela backs away and stands up. There’s a cheeky grin of excitement and he’s off, boxers off before he leaves the bathroom. Jaela’s ready to strike, but first she needs to brush her teeth and wipe at her red, puffy eyes that twinkle with the promise of what’s about to come—full control, through and through. It’s been a while. And she’s about to feel all the control she yearns with the man she loves till the end of time.

As expected, —well, commanded—Drake is naked and on his knees before the full-length mirror, facing her. Oh, he knows exactly what she wants. Sure, her eyes are a bit red, but the sadness and tears are long gone as power and control ooze from Jaela who is more than determined to have a night for the books.

She grips his hair and tilts his head back. A visible shudder races through him, hands rising to her thighs. “Mm... Jaela… you’re even more beautiful…”

“Enough talking,” she playfully snaps. “Take these off. Eat me out until I come all over that pretty little face.”

She holds back a shudder when Drake responds, “As you wish, Duchess…” voice silky smooth and low, slowly removing her panties. She’d tug on his hair to make him go faster but the feeling of the silk and his hands sliding down her legs is a sensation to memorize, every hair on her body standing up with the tantalizing and teasing touch.

Once she steps out, Drake obeys, mouth to her exposed pussy, bare for him to savor. And savor he does, hands on her ass, pulling her closer to lap at her juices, flowing long before this moment. Jaela’s grip loosens (but doesn’t let go, of course) on his hair and she throws her head back as his tongue flicks and dances around her clit, teasing it with expert care, knowing all that makes her weak in the knees.

When he flattens his tongue and slides it long and deep up and down her slit, Jaela gasps and opens her eyes to look at the sight before her in the mirror. Drake, on his knees, holding her place—while she controls him, ultimately, hand wound in hair—mouth at her pussy like he loves, moaning and groaning against her, adding to the pleasure of his tongue.

“Good—good…” Jaela manages to mumble, fixated on his head moves in the slightest ways between her parted legs, starting to shake from the pleasure he creates for her. Briefly, Jaela watches his back muscles, how his whole body is putting itself into bringing her to pleasure, determined by the way he licks and gently sucks on her clit, teeth the lightest and best of sensations.

Drake hums against her as she moans, calling out his name again, gripping his hair for support, if anything, because she’s about to lose it. “D-Drake, I— oh!”

And finally—fucking finally—she comes from him, cumming over his tongue. She shakes, head back, while Drake eagerly laps her up, Jaela feeling his smile while he compliments how she tastes and how much he missed this and how he can’t wait to make his Duchess cum again and again tonight.

She could have him lick her pussy all night, really, but Jaela pulls his head back, breath ragged. “G-get on the bed,” she breathes, chest heaving, body still shaking from him, nail indents on her ass. “Lay down. Arms up. I want to see how good that dick is without you helping.”

Drake hesitates for a moment—but just one—as the meaning of her words come to light. “Oh god good… yes, Jaela… yes…”

“It’s Duchess to you, sir,” she winks, tapping his ass as he obeys, unable to contain his excitement, dick hard as can be again after seeing her a sobbing, freshly thrown up mess. Jaela unhooks her bra and drops it to the floor, slinking over to him, hand instinctively on her bump—but only for a moment, for she pulls the handcuffs out of their toy drawer—they’ll need a baby lock on that soon enough—and he can barely contain himself as he lays on the bed at her mercy.

“Ja—Duchess—I certainly don’t deserve this punishment…”

Drake loves the handcuffs. There’s no doubt it’s his favorite to be cuffed to the bed, or just handcuffed in general, while Jaela has her way with him. “Mm… oh… I think you do, sir. You’ve been such a bad boy…” Jaela teases him while she cuffs him, pussy close to his face, still dripping with her essence and his salvia, walls pulsing from either her lingering orgasm… or the promise of what’s to come. “And you…” A glance back at his dick is all she needs. “Don’t seem to mind.”

The cuffs click, loud in the room, and Drake shudders, letting her take complete control, arms stretched overhead, body laid out under her. She nods to the cuffs, running her finger along where the metal meets his skin, a familiar and wordless question and answer exchanged between them. He only nods, brushing his thumb against hers for a brief moment. Perfect. Tight, but not tight enough. Just enough to dig at his skin as he’s desperate to touch her. “Mm… think you’re ready for this, Walker?”

The veins in his forearms pop out as his fists clench together, desire plastered on his face, looking her nude form up and down with hungry, ravenous, nearly black eyes, pupils dilated.

“It looks like I have no choice to be at your mercy… completely under your control… Duchess….”

Jaela smirks, sliding back along his body, making sure to brush her pussy against his chest and stomach… and lower, hovering over his erect dick. “Do you really think you deserve your punishment?”

“Yes—god, please—” Drake begs, however, he’s cut short when she turns around, showing off her ass. “Huh? What…”

Jaela straightens up, still with her back facing him, as she lines her pussy to his dick, letting the tip brush between the folds. She flips back her hair, smirking. Oh, he’s in for it. “You’ll get the sight you want when you earn it,” she says, voice low and sultry, then finally—oh god, finally—she lowers herself on his dick.

She’s so wet that he slides in with ease, girth stretching her walls in ways that have been long neglected. “But I want to—”

“You’ll see what you want when I decide that you can.” She turns her head, hands on his thighs, pussy fully filled to his dick, unmoving. “Beggar can’t be choosers.” Jaela smirks, eyes bright. Drakes his lips and moves his hips up, but she keeps him in place, not giving into the temptation that makes her heart skip a beat and a familiar warmth in her stomach. And a roll, but fuck it—she’s going to ignore this. “So for now, keep your mouth shut—and for every sound I hear, I’ll stay turned around. Also, you can’t cum until I say so. Understand?”

His mouth opens… but then Drake’s eyes flash and he nods, adjusting himself, settling into the bed, wrists cuffed above him. Satisfied with his obedience—his offer of giving all control to her, and only her in the bed tonight—she turns back around. With a painstaking pace, Jaela lifts herself up—just to the very tip—then grinds herself back down on his dick, giving him a show with her ass. What can she say? She knows he likes it, loves it when he pounds her from behind, hitting and gripping her ass—worshipping it as much as her pussy and tits.

Sure, maybe he wants to see her ride him, tits bouncing, but he has to earn it. And really… is watching her bounce on his dick reverse cowgirl really a sore sight? Judging by the sharp intake of breath as he tries to stay quiet, it’s not.

Jaela bounces with expertise on his dick, steadying herself, keeping her pace nice and slow— drawing out his want, his desire, so clear by the way he moves his own hips up, wanting to go deeper, cuffs clinking as he flexes and tenses, moving, fighting the desire to remain still, wanting nothing more than to touch her, to give her his love.

However, as much as Jaela wants that, she relishes in the feeling of control while she rides him, not giving him the gift of her body bore before him. She pushes back more of her hair and exhales, a moan escaping from her as his dick curves just right, hitting the spot. In response, Drake groans to, a small plea escaping, “Jae… pl-please…”

Was that on purpose or no? Jaela smirks, the fire of control back and blazing in her equally dark pupils, desire dripping off of her. She turns, pausing, his member barley brushing her pussy lips. Drake’s mouth is half open, chest heaving while he pants, eyes pleading for his reward. And already? Jaela digs her nails into his thigh and swallows back a bout of nausea. No. This isn’t happening. She refuses. “Now what did I say?”

“T-that I can’t—”

“Make a sound.” He moans when she lowers herself onto his dick, toes curling at how thick he is. “I meant it. Now, I’ll be here longer before I decide if you’re worthy of seeing me. Understand?”

Jaela knows Drake wants to burst, to tell her screw that and he wants to watch her ride him into oblivion, but his only reply is shifting his wrists in the cuffs, blue veins bright as they can be against his slick and taunt skin, red around where they metal lays. “Good boy,” Jaela purrs, gently squeezing his balls, and then turns, beginning her countdown.

As much fun as it is to tease him, she wants to see his face, too. To watch as he marvels over her, to see how he moves his hands, unable to touch her, but still trying to anyways. The desperation to touch and validate her so clear on his face—she wants that. But… she’s not ready to give up willfully messing with him. And after all, with all of her bathroom breaks in the middle of meetings, she’s gotten good at knowing the time without a clock.

So, Jaela bounces on his cock with a languid pace that makes him shake—but not cum—keeping him invested and on edge—just where she wants him. For now, she enjoys the sensation of how he feels, savoring those moments when she slides onto him, bodies meeting in a perfect harmony. But then… times up, the two minutes going by, just like she planned. Drake’s about to give up on staying silent, breathing so damn hard, barely containing his whimpers and begging for more. Jaela pauses, then removes herself, hovering over him on her knees when she turns to face him, pushing more hair back to give him a view of her breasts.

“I think you’ve been good enough…”

“Can I tou—”

She presses a finger to his desperate lips, silencing him. His eyes widen as she leans over, getting into position. She slips in two fingers and his tongue does just as she wants it to, tasting her fingers, ones with a hint of her essence on them. “You’ll touch me when I want you too. You did good, but you’re not out of those cuffs yet, Walker. But…” She removes her fingers and slides her hands down his chest, nails leaving faint pink marks. “If you’re really good here, then maybe you’ll get your reward.”

Drake gulps, hard. “Which is…?”

Jaela smirks, running hands down her curves and down to her thighs, tight against his hips. “You can have me… anyway you want me for as long as you need. But only…” Her eyes dart to the cuffs he loves yet wants out of all at once. “Only if you’re good and let me ride you until I cum—but you can’t. You can only watch. Understand?”

He groans, head thrown back, long hair plastered with sweat on his forehead. Maybe to some it doesn’t seem like much, but Drake always—and always—loses it when she comes on his cock while riding him. It’s like clockwork once she orgasms on him—he follows within seconds, shaking and crying her name. But now? Well…

Jaela lowers herself onto him again, biting her lip as she watches his expression—like he’s died and gone to heaven—as she gives him what they’ve both been craving for weeks. On top of it, this is both their favorite position—only this time, heightened by Drake’s inability to touch her and her ultimate control over his body, his pleasure.

They lock eyes and Jaela doesn’t waste time this time, riding him. Her hands fall to his chest as she bounces on his dick, riding him like she’s never rode him before, the sounds of their bodies meeting again and again—in a fast, furious pace—drowning out the music. This time, Jaela’s not quiet—she’s loud, head thrown back here and there when it hits just right. Drake’s moaning too, crying out her name, nails digging into his palms, straining against the cuffs as his hips rise to meet her over and over, just making him sink deeper into her.

“Fuck, Drake…” Jaela gasps, the coil deep within her tightening with each roll of her hips against him. His cock is definitely hitting her g-spot and fuck, she’s going to lose it. Drake smirks despite the need to touch and love her as he wants and his eyes rove her over her body, starting to erratically ride him, hips twisting and circling on their own accord. Her tits bounce and the sweat just makes a sheen that the candlelight reflects off of, highlighting every curve she has, framing her body perfectly. While he looks at her, she looks at him, savoring the sight of her husband writhing below her.

His pecs and abs are defined, tensing as they move as one, watching his wife do her work. His wrists are red, but she knows he likes the twinge of pain that comes with being unable to touch her, pulling on the cuffs and nearly begging for her to release him—but it’s all part of the game. Finally, his face. Oh, his face. It’s overcome by an intoxicating mixture of lust and love and it gets her drunker than anything before by just a glance at it. Sweaty and pink, but his lips are full from her kisses and teeth, pupils dilated to the very edge of his iris, only a sliver of that chestnut brown that drank her in visible.  And his mouth, oh his mouth open and filled with gasps and groans of pleasure, her name the sweetest thing on his tongue, wanting more and more from her body.

“God… you’re so fucking beautiful,” Drake says, then glance down at her clit. “Y-you should play with—”

“Wanna make me cum faster so you’ll get your reward, huh, Walker?” Jaela doesn’t know how she manages that, but she’s touching her clit as he wanted. His eyes widen and his shudder lets her know that he’s dangerously close—but to be fair, him watching her pleasure herself further (and be unable to do anything about it) is about to send her over to edge herself.

In fact—Jaela’s head throws back as she comes, hard as hell, the two points of pleasure exploding all at once and working its way up her body, toes curling, body shuddering, and a broken set of cries escaping between her lips—all while Drake watches with hunger and her pussy clenches around him—rapidly at first, then it slows as it pulses.

When the bright points of light stop obscuring her vision, Jaela slowly brings her dazed gaze back to Drake, body trembling, still connected with Drake, their pelvises slick with… just her juices, Drake not come yet. Jaela laughs weakly, raising an eyebrow, pussy still pulsing. “Y-you didn’t come, hmm?”

“You said I get to have you… any way… if I’m g-good so….” He shakes but takes deep breaths to calm his rock hard member. Jaela could deny him that… but… she grins leaning over him, already missing how he feels within her. But his lips find her breast and she giggles, releasing the cuffs.

“You’re only free because I’m letting you, you know that, right?”

One click. Two clicsk. And he’s free. She expects it to be like this, letting his hands come to her while he lavishes her breast, but she taken by surprise, as gasp escaping as he sweeps her into his arms and her back hits the bed.

No frills, no tricks, just the two of them pressed as tight as they can be, lips crashing together. He’s not in her—not, not yet—for without breaking his kiss, he gently pushes her legs up, knees to her shoulders, letting the kiss linger as he pulls away to look down at her. “I love you,” he says, hands soft on her brown and burning skin.

Jaela smiles, one of warmth and sincerity unlike the playful minx she was before. “And I love you…” she replies, hand bring his head down to meet hers as he thrusts in her—long, slow, and deep—so, so deep, filling her to completion, connected through and through. Her legs ankles link around his back as he works, teeth tugging hard on her lower lip, meeting her eyes.

She laughs through the kiss and tugs on his hair as he squeezes her breast, bodies plastered together, pleasure radiating from every inch of her. Hell, she can ignore her stomach, too, caught in Drake’s embrace, one of love and everything that’s good in the world.

They don’t last long in this position, Drake deep as he can be, feeling every twitch her walls, feeling every ragged breath from her—but neither mind. Jaela’s spent for the meanwhile, but she has enough for her to kiss him hard and full on the mouth as he comes in her, the two pausing their frantic hips, meeting as one—letting this one linger.

Jaela loses track of time as they kiss and Drake shudders here and there, lingering in her, the world starting to settle after their much needed romp. But, time passes for he pulls out and collapses next to her, over the covers. Jaela giggles and reaches out a hand, brushing his wrist. “Did you have fun?”

“So damn much, Abdi,” Drake grins… taking her hand. “Been a while since we used the handcuffs… and seeing you…” He sighs in happiness, looking to the canopy for a moment, then settles back on her, hand on her little belly. “I know you’ve been feeling gross and didn’t want me to look at you or touch you for a while… but you look good. Really damn good, Abdi.”

Jaela laughs quietly. It’s hard to believe… but she has to admit that the little bump is pretty cute. “Well… I’m glad… oh shit…” Jaela gets off of the bed, stomach back at its full force. Drake sits up, ready to get off, but Jaela shakes her head. She manages, “I’ll just be a second, stay there, I’m fine, it’s worth it, anyways,” before she darts to the bathroom. It’s quick handling her business and getting washed up for a moment, soreness starting to hit her from the vigorous sex that clearly let out a few demons and pent up anger.

By the time she comes back, Drake’s blown out the candles and he holds the covers back for her. Jaela smiles and slides in, laying on her side. Drake spoons her from behind, both naked, and his hand finding its new favorite spot to rest, over that bump that causes so much annoyance… but brings so much joy, even at her worst.

He kisses behind her ear, snuggling close to her. “I love you, Abdi. I… I know we won’t get many more months to do things like that…”

“That’s why we’ll have babysitters, namely named Maxwell…”

“I told you we’re not leaving our kid with Maxwell alone…”

“Liv will be there…”

“They will not learn how to throw knives by six months…”

Repressing a giggle, Jaela turns her head, just a bit, to look him in the eyes, moonlight streaming in the dark room. He’s amused, lips turned up into a smile. His hand flexes over her stomach, protective. Her hand joins his. “We won’t get nights like this as much… but we’ll make every moment we have with each as a couple and as a family count, won’t we, Drake?”

“Of course,” he says, smiling wider. “And… and even though our baby will the heir to Cordonia, Jaela…” Drake kisses her cheek and though she feels tense… she relaxes against him, legs wound together. “We’re still the parents. Not Liam. We’ll have all the say in how they grow up. We… we’ll be in control. I know we’ll both make sure of it.”

Despite her outburst, and yeah, there’s some fear… Jaela nods, returning her head to the side and closing her eyes, more than content. “I… I know. Cordonia will be in good hands because they’ll have some kickass parents behind them, raising them.”

“Exactly.”

With satisfied bodies and quiet exhales, Jaela and Drake drift into the best sleep they’ve both had in weeks, completely and utterly entwined with each other, unwilling to let each other go, savoring the closeness they so dearly missed for weeks on end, time lost to meetings and excitement and preparation for the one thing they so long yearned for: the future.

Disclaimer: All characters and rights belong to Pixelberry Studios.

Permatag: @youwontlikewherewewillgo​, @mfackenthal​, @hhiggs​, @enmchoices​ @the-everlasting-dream​, @hopefulmoonobject​, @krisnicjack​, @ladynonsense​, @innerpostmentality​, @thatcatlady0716​, @lizeboredom​, @choicessa​, @boneandfur​​, @tmarie82​, , @thatspicegirlssong​​ @craftytacotrashdream​​, @blackcoffee85​​, @akrenich​​, @trr-fangirl​​, @client-327​​,  @thewolvesss​​, @aworldoffandoms​​, @desiree-0816​​, @birdlovesafish​​

Drake: @fairydustandsarcasm​​​​

Fic: @jens-diamondchoices​ @drakexnadira​