#for the answers you want and get mad when they disagree with you. fucking wild.

[armoralor]

Emily Swallow’s face when d*nbo shippers in the crowd started yelling at Katee Sackhoff for saying Bo-Katan Kryze and Din Djarin have "no romantic undertones:"

Please don’t harass actors. Katee has been humoring inappropriate questions about a fictional romance for MONTHS. She has made jokes and played along to diffused awkward fan situations; ship what you want online but please don't bother actors with it (image from a different angle of this panel).

[chappell-roans]

What’s the most controversial TS unpopular opinion you have?

Respectfully this feels like bait and I know you just send a lot of asks but idk ihsflnkd I feel like I've laid out some popular and unpopular Taylor opinions and I'll continue to do so because this blog is where I like to speak my mind... but do it mindfully lol, putting out an unpopular opinion for the fuck of it, instead of as part of a conversation or organic observation, doesn't really sound like something I want to do. Like I could say the most un/popular thing and someone will dis/agree with me. It comes with the territory of talking about anything on the internet, but especially the most famous entertainer in the world.

And because I'm apparently keyboard-happy this morning, I'll add a Taylor fandom opinion (or observation, or both) that I have been holding my tongue on, and it's twofold. I see this a lot, especially on commentary blogs (I don't count myself as one, and I see this on other types of blogs, across fandoms, but we're focusing on TS now), where anons use another blogger's inbox as a soapbox for sharing opinions, or guiding topics, or facilitating fandom drama. And often get mad if you don't answer them! When it is someone else (a stranger, like you and I are strangers) they're asking questions to, and to be posted on someone else's blog. It is a strange phenomenon that an anonymous asker can feel butthurt that they aren't getting their tidbit shared on another person's blog. I've seen unanswered or unsatisfied anons harass my friends! It's absolutely wild and unacceptable behavior. You are not owed space on someone else's blog. If you want to talk about something so badly, make your own post on your own blog.

Also, the way fandom drama spreads and every differing opinion becomes Discourse is annoying. Oh, Sally on blog1234 said she thinks Taylor Swift wets the bed? Let's go tell otherblog5678, and see what Billy thinks, because we know he disagrees and it'll make him mad, because he knows Taylor Swift hasn't wet her bed since she was 13! And anyone who says otherwise is a fake fan! And on and on and on. People can have opinions and if you don't like it, just unfollow, rather than checking the temperature of every other blogger you perceive to be big's opinions. And granted, I enjoy being part of this sometimes. But sometimes it's just like... why? Because often people figure out the source of the big bad other opinion and then they start drama and iyiyi.

[thenixkat]

I am of the opinion that Booster Gold's costume should be like at least 50% gold also do like that this issue had a one page recap of the last i do like that Booster as soon as he hears that these heroes that are fighting him are from the future his first thought is 'oh shit time cops'. Booster Gold is very aware that he is criminal

Booster's football skills come in handy dodging Ultra Boy also the real assassin has used grenades to get rid of the police tail

since Booster is using a version of Braniac 5's force field belt from a different point in time their forcefields get wonky when they run into eachother

instead of repelling eachother their force fields merged together with them both inside

would it be that bad if a villain assassinated Regan and Bush and impersonated Regan?

couldnt really be much worse than actual Regan

Skeets meanwhile all this had been going on was tailing the president's kidnapping.

The Legion really said 'hold on we're not time cops' and no they want to be not violent at getting answers

also yes Booster has a point, they attacked him first why the fuck does he have to tell you why he time traveled, you arent time cops. Also yer just assuming he came here to assassinate Regan b/c he's a criminal

after several pages of fighting fuckers are communicating

Booster's worst crime to date, saving Regan and Bush

Chameleon Boy turns into a fucking dragon

also there's alien dragons just ou there in the DC universe Booster isnt arrested b/c there's no records in the future of him having been brought to justice for his crimes

ok, so I know that DC likes to use the stable time loop shit for their time travel, which I just generally disagree that that's how time travel works and wont be convinced otherwise for any story. Especially since there are parallel timelines/universes and shit. But the idea that Booster can't get arrested from his time crimes because he was never arrested for his time crimes and no one wants to risk a paradox is wild apparently, there's a nuclear war at some point between the 1980s and the 2460s

Booster originally planned to call himself Goldstar but flubbed it and has to live with it for the rest of his hero career

Dirk's daughter has been kidnapped. I assume by the senator who's still mad at Booster for fucking up his plans to become president by faking not!Regan's rescue

apparently, Booster's not a fan having rude woman cling to him but he is a professional and he's gonna pretend to be friendly and excited about shit

the 1000 kidnapped the makers of the Booster Gold comic in-universe to drain what info they have on Booster Gold b/c teh senator is still very pissed off about Booster ruining his plans

huh say what you want about Booster Gold but his villians be killing people. Like killing people killing people, on a frequent basis

also Superman is in this town and apparently not investigating any large underground lead lined structures after the last one got publicly revealed to be a villain lair

also its wild to me that the senator is going through all this effort when he could just plant a bomb in Booster's apartment. Like Booster doesnt have a secret identity, his address is findable

[noteguk]

any way you want it | kth | m

— summary; in which your best friend, Taehyung, finds out about your unsatisfying sexual experiences and decides to put an end to that track record himself. 

— contents and warnings; smut, childhood best friends, Taehyung x reader, bigdick!tae, breast play, oral (f receiving), dry grinding, dirty talk, tae has a praise kink, unprotected sex (be responsible!!), rough sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, Taehyung takes things personally but he has good intentions, this is what happens when mutual thirst gets suppressed for years of friendship 

— words; 6.6k

— author’s note; i have no idea why but this fic was so fucking hard to put down into words??? I felt mentally constipated the entire time but it’s finally here 

Taehyung wasn’t the slightest bit surprised when you called him at almost two in the morning, complaining about your newest nightmarish date and practically begging to come over. Like the good friend that he was, he made sure to tell you that you would be more than welcome to join him in his newest documentary marathon about aliens, and wondered if you could bring him some takeout on your way over there. Like the bad friend that you were, you said no. 

To be fair, the nearest takeout place was across the city from his apartment (about thirty minutes away and in a bad neighborhood), and you were already having a horrible night as it was. Besides, you refused to take part in Taehyung’s search for a high blood pressure and cholesterol levels, arguing that it wasn’t the right time to stuff his face full of hypercaloric noodles. 

But you did pity him enough to comply with his second request: a big pot of vanilla ice cream, which you were sure you’d end up consuming too. You were in a crisis.

As if to prove that the gods above were laughing at you, during the walk of shame to Taehyung’s apartment, it had started to rain (because of course it did), and your umbrella was only able to save you from the shoulders up before it crumbled and flew away from your gasp, rolling on the asphalt like a ball of dirt in a Wild West movie. By the time that you dragged yourself to his front door, you were completely soaked (and not in the way you had planned for that night to end), and about to break down crying. 

Taehyung, like the angel that he was, helped you with your heavy coat and talked you into taking a warm shower before you got sick. He took the supermarket bag from you (where the ice cream had probably already melted) and walked you to this bathroom, excusing himself so he could grab you some dry clothes — and you only saw the ones he had picked when you got out of the shower. 

With a silly smile dancing on your lips, you fumbled with the black booty shorts that Taehyung had jokingly gifted you that past Christmas — one that read “daddy’s juicy butt” in big, bold, neon pink letters over your ass — and then decided that your dignity was already dead by that point, so another kick wouldn’t hurt. Taehyung had also given you one of his favorite band shirts, which he only revealed during desperate times. 

Your heart melted with the thought of your best friend trying to comfort you, and pulled the fabric close to your face so you could take a deep inhale, drowning in his scent. It smelled of that stupid cologne that Taehyung had used ever since he hit puberty, and a bit of fabric softener. 

The two of you had an extremely close friendship, to the point that it got kind of strange at times. Ever since childhood, it was joked that you and Taehyung had been long lost soulmates — doing everything together, from going to school to laughing at the same exact jokes during movie marathons, often at the same moment and for the same amount of time. Before puberty hit (and the hormonal rage took over your first teenage years) you couldn’t remember disagreeing with him even once. You two had always been in sync. 

But the uncomfortably close part only hit after you two went to college, and your anxiety for being a virgin in a sea of starving sharks got the best of you. After long conversations, you had managed to convince Taehyung to help you learn a thing or two about the art of naked wrestling. 

Apparently it was weird to give your best friend a handjob and a blowjob for the sake of education. Go figure. 

Regardless, your friendship wasn’t affected by any of that — even if you two had agreed to never mention any of it ever again — and you could always count on Taehyung to catch you when you fell. 

Even if it was at two am on a Tuesday, after one of your nightmarish dates. 

You threw yourself on the couch next to him, hugging your knees against your chest to form a barrier between you and the divine providence that had taken you to that point. You had half-assedly dried your hair, but pools of wetness had started to build on the back of Taehyung’s shirt. 

Instead of accusing you of ruining his favorite piece of clothing, Taehyung reached for the remote and paused his documentary just as the narrator was starting to explain how hieroglyphs were actually part of an alien language. “Just tell me how bad it was,” he said, a mustache of ice cream melting over his top lip.

You took a peek at the bowl of melting vanilla on his center table, and decided that you would probably pass the desert for the night. 

You glanced at him sideways, voice coming out monotone. “You sure you want to go down that path?” 

Taehyung licked his sweet mustache off and nodded, clearly intrigued. “Yeah, hit me with it. You look like you need all the help that you can find.” 

You sighed, turning around on the couch so you were facing him — legs still against your chest. “Okay so… I went to his place...” 

“Yes…”

“And... we had dinner, talked for a bit.”

“How was the talk?” He asked. 

You shook your head, trying to kill the memories inside. “He didn’t let me say a word. He just went on and on about this new website he’s working on, and how expensive his wine glasses were.” You scoffed, angry at yourself for ignoring the clear red flags of an arrogant douchebag. That was what the desperate need for immediate human connection could do to someone, you thought. “Apparently it’s supposed to be the next Facebook or something. Or twitter. I honestly wasn’t paying much attention.”

He chuckled. “Starting off strong.” 

“That wasn’t even the main issue,” you said, lowering your forehead so it was touching your knees. You just wanted the world to end at that moment, so you wouldn’t have to go through those experiences again. “After that, we sat on his couch and started watching a movie. And you know how that goes, we started kissing, he pushed me down and got on top of me…”

“And?” He instigated. 

With a sigh, you raised your head, meeting your friend’s gaze. Taehyung thought he had never seen you look so dead inside. And he had seen a lot from you. “And he humped like… my lower abdomen for about three minutes and came in his pants.”

Taehyung cringed visibly, taking one hand to cover his mouth. “Oh, man. That’s bad.” 

You nodded, strangely relieved at his reaction. Part of you was worried that you were the evil witch in that scenario, that maybe you had done something wrong. “The worst,” you agreed. “Wanna know what else?”

“What? There’s more?”

“He didn’t even ask me if I was satisfied with whatever the hell that was.” You told him, bitterness dripping from your tongue. In the grand scheme of things, that was something silly to get mad over, but the fact that your date didn’t even have the guts to ask if you had gotten something out of that was ridiculous. “Not that I could possibly be. But it’s like he didn’t care and I was just a pillow for him to hump like a… sexually repressed religious teen, I don’t know.”

Taehyung only nodded, realizing that there wasn’t much that he could say to fix the situation. “Was he a good kisser at least?”

You sneered. “I think he was trying to crush my face with his.” You glanced at your friend, only half of his face bathed by the yellow and orange shades coming from the television. Maybe a documentary about ancient history and alien expeditions wouldn’t be so bad. Worst case scenario, it would knock you out, and you wouldn’t have to think about that mess anytime soon. “Also, too much tongue, just… the amount of saliva…”

“Got it. You can stop there.” Taehyung raised one hand, his eyes closing for a second. His palm lowered and met one of your knees, standing there in a silent attempt at consolation. “I’m sorry about your terrible date experience, dude.” 

“If you could even call it that.” You ran one hand through your hair, suddenly overtaken by a wave of anger. “God! I was just… so… ugh! Like… ughhhh!!” 

Taehyung, bless his heart, sometimes couldn’t understand the random neanderthal sounds you threw his way. “So... what?”

At last, your makeshift protection came crumbling down, and you collapsed on the couch dramatically, legs dangling off the edge. Taehyung thought that you were being possessed for exactly two seconds before you started talking again. “I did a full body shave for this night, Taehyung. Do you realize what that means?” His lips fell open, but, before he had the chance to answer, you continued. “It means that I really wanted to get railed tonight. Actually, I wanted to find a guy who actually knew what he was doing for once in my life.”

Taehyung chuckled, trying to disperse the tension in the room. “Come on, the dating pool can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, it’s bad,” you said. 

He wasn’t giving up that fast. “How bad?”

You raised your head to look him dead in the eyes, a silent threat, before finally uttering, “Try no-man-has-ever-made-me-cum bad,” and crashing your head back against the sofa. 

If you weren’t so hyper-focused on your own sexual melodrama, you would have noticed the thick silence that fell between the two of you, Taehyung’s face contorting into fifty different emotions within a few seconds. He thought that he had heard it all — from the secrets hidden in Machu Picchu to the obvious extraterrestrial influence on earthy religion — but no amount of bad documentaries could ever prepare him for that revelation. That didn’t make any sense. 

“Wait. Seriously?” He finally found his voice and managed to push his doubt out of his throat. “You’ve never had an orgasm before?”

You chuckled, humorless. “Oh no, I’ve had plenty of those. Just not from another person.” 

“How’s that possible?” he asked. 

“I ask myself that every single day.” You sighed, forcing yourself to sit back up. Taehyung was staring at you like you had just grown two extra arms, and you wondered what an amazing sex life he must’ve had for that confession to get him so confused. “Guess I’m just really bad at picking partners, who knows.”

There was a soft grunt on your throat as you fixed your position on the couch, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of your entire day piling up at once. Your gaze mindlessly traveled to the TV — a big plasma monstrosity that Taehyung had bought compulsively during a Black Friday sale — looking at a white-bearded man pointing maniacally towards a specific, round-shaped hieroglyph. You didn’t even need to hit play to know that he was making it seem like it was an UFO, but curiosity got the best of you. 

“Can you pass me the remote?” You asked, pointing at the small device that laid beyond Taehyung’s body. “I kinda wanna see what—”

“I’ve made tons of girls have orgasms,” Taehyung interrupted, looking at you like he had just clicked out of a transe.  

You laughed at his monotone voice. “I’m happy for you, Tae.” You leaned over his legs so you could finally reach the remote. “That wasn’t a jab at your masculinity, I’m sure you’re a very caring partner, and I’m sure there’s tons of guys out there that—”

“I can make you cum too, if you want.”

You had just grabbed the small piece of plastic when his sentence hit you like a smack in the face, making you drop the remote back on the couch, eyes widening. “You… what?”

He suddenly broke eye contact, taking one hand to massage the back of his neck. “Did that sound as creepy as I think it did?”

“A bit, yeah.” You forced out a light chuckle, trying to break the ice. There was no sign of mockery in his voice, and you didn’t know how to react. You could not say that the offer wasn’t tempting (you’d be lying if you claimed that you didn’t think Taehyung was attractive), but his proposal was so oddly-placed that it sounded like a joke. “What are you talking about?”

Taehyung sighed, turning his head to look at the television. “I just think it’s really unfair that no one has ever made you cum before.” 

You smiled. “That’s very nice of you, but…”

“And I want to help you with that.” He looked back at you. Oh, he was being a hundred percent serious. There was no longer a single ounce of doubt in your mind. “We’re friends, it’s not gonna be weird. We’ve done similar stuff before.”

“We were a lot younger, though.” You didn’t know why your mouth suddenly felt so dry, your fight or flight response kicking at full strength. You could tell that Taehyung was also trying to convince himself about the strangeness of the situation. “It’s gonna be kind of weird, yeah.”

“Not if we don’t make it weird,” he threw back. Was it bad that you were actually considering it? Maybe it was the piled-up exhaustion combined with the years of sexual frustration, maybe you were finally out of your mind. But you were really considering it. “I don’t wanna pressure you, alright? Just making a friendly offer. If you don’t want it, that’s fine.” 

You kind of wanted it, though. There was too much accumulated libido inside you from years and years of unsatisfying partners, and you trusted Taehyung with your entire heart. It sounded like a safe enough bet: if all went to shit and it got too awkward, you two could just stop, no hard feelings. Besides, you knew that Taehyung cared about you, which was more than you could say about all your dates in the past couple years. 

And the more you stared at him, probably looking like a deer in the headlights, the more you grew soft under his presence. At once, you were hit with desires that you had never considered before: you wanted to kiss those soft lips, wanted to know how his large hands would feel around you. You really, really wanted to know how it was to have a good sexual experience with someone, and you couldn’t think of a better candidate than your best friend. Even if you still thought it could be seen as a little bit weird. 

But you also kind of didn’t care. 

You licked your lips, finally finding your voice after a long moment of silence. “How… how would you do it?” 

Taehyung turned his head and looked at you, noticing the expectation in your eyes. “How would you want me to do it?” He asked. 

You tried to think, but your mind was completely blank. What did you want him to do? What did you like? Suddenly you weren’t sure about anything anymore. “I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing down. 

Taehyung smiled at your nervousness, one of his hands moving to your chin and tilting your head up. “How ‘bout I start by kissing you?” He questioned, gaze flickering to your parted lips. “Is that alright?” 

There were no words in your throat, so you simply nodded, closing your eyes as he leaned in. 

Taehyung’s mouth tasted of vanilla and you thought, even for a moment, that you were in paradise. The second that his tender lips met yours, your anxiety melted away, giving space to a newfound flame of desire. Taehyung kissed you softly, sensually, taking his time caressing your mouth and drowning in your heat. His hand moved to the back of your head, pressing you closer to him and leaning your head to the side so he could deepen the kiss. 

He sighed heavily into your mouth when your tongues met, his other hand moving to hold your waist. The position on the couch was kind of awkward for kissing, with the two of you sitting side by side, so it wasn’t an unwelcome surprise when Taehyung tugged you onto his lap, making you straddle him. 

The kiss was starting to get hungrier, messier, a small whimper dying in your mouth when his palms traveled down to cup your ass, pressing you down against his semi-hard cock. Taehyung sighed and groaned at the feeling of you on top of him, loving the way that your fingers played with his hair, your body so perfectly tight against his. If there was any hesitation before, it had completely vanished by that point. 

It caught you off guard when he suddenly broke off the kiss to ask you, “Do you like any pet names?”

You blinked, taken aback. “Hm? What?”

He placed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You know, you want me to call you by something?”  

You realized that Taehyung was really taking that personal service to a different level, and you couldn’t say that you were let down by it. If any of your past partners had the dignity to ask what you liked, you wouldn’t be in that position in the first place. “I… like being called ‘baby’,” you told him. 

Taehyung smiled. “That’s cute. Baby it is.” 

Before you had a chance to respond, Taehyung’s lips were back on yours, a dreamy sigh leaving his mouth as your tongues met once again. Only a few seconds passed before he shifted his weight to lay you down, never breaking the kiss as he positioned himself between your legs, hovering over you. Taehyung started trailing a path of kisses down your neck, his large hands slithering beneath your oversized shirt and caressing the skin of your stomach. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked, tugging at your shirt. 

You agreed and, within a heartbeat, that piece of clothing was already on the floor, and Taehyung was diving in to kiss the valley of your naked breasts. You moaned timidly when one of your nipples was wrapped by his lips, his tongue coming out to play with it. Taehyung’s other hand was occupied fondling your other breast, tugging and pressing down on it, and the sensations were taking over your mind. 

“You have great tits,” Taehyung mumbled against your skin, switching to mouth your other nipple. 

“I’m glad you like them,” you teased, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. You were letting out these cute little whimpers that were making him lose his mind. “Feels really good.” 

“Yeah?” He asked, moving back to kiss his way up your neck. His tongue was hot and heavy as it danced on your skin, and you knew that those sucks he was giving you were surely gonna leave a few marks on your flesh. But you didn’t really care. “Gonna make you feel even better, baby.” 

Your eyes fluttered shut at the pet name — it sounded heavenly when Taehyung used it with his deep, honeyed voice; his warm breath hitting your neck as he continued with his ministrations. 

He kissed his way to your cheek, placing a small pec on your lips before saying, “Can you do something for me?”

You nodded. “What is it?” 

Instead of responding right away, Taehyung’s gaze fell to your lips, and he was once again attacking them. That time, you weren’t able to hold back the whimper that you let out, your panties already glued against your core with how much he was turning you on. 

One of his hands had trailed down your exposed abdomen, teasingly playing with the hem of your shorts. You held your breath when he tugged them down, bringing your underwear with it and throwing them somewhere in the living room. Taehyung grunted loudly when his fingers slipped past your folds, digging into your heat. His brain almost short-circuited because of how wet you were. 

He broke the kiss and looked you deep in the eyes. “I want you to sit on my face, baby,” he said, and his request shot straight to your core. “Let me take care of you, okay?” 

“Are you sure?” You asked. You had never done that before.

But Taehyung wasn’t sharing your reluctance. “Yeah,” he said, voice hoarse and eyes darkened. “Wanna taste you so bad. Sit on my face, please.” 

And you didn’t need any more convincing than that. Taehyung helped you get up from the couch so he could reposition himself on it, laying flat on his back and watching as you settled yourself above him, thighs on either side of his head. The couch was the exact size for that, a little smaller and you’d have one leg dangling off the edge.

Taehyung took his hands to your thighs, running them up to your hips. His eyes were focused on your pussy, and you never felt so exposed when he started pressing you down lightly, guiding you closer to his mouth. 

You held the back of the couch for support and did as he requested, lowering yourself until Taehyung had you flat on his tongue. Your breath trembled and caught in your throat when he licked a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, humming around the taste before doing it again. Taehyung was an expert at erasing your worries because, with a few more licks, he had you fully losing yourself in his sinful ministrations. 

It wasn’t long until you were whining out his name, your folds lazily dragging against his tongue as you started to grind on his face. “God, Taehyung!” You called out, hand coming down to tug at his hair. Taehyung grunted in satisfaction, the vibrations of his deep voice sending shockwaves through your pussy. “That’s… that’s really nice. You’re really good at this.” 

He moaned in response, closing his eyes at your words. Taehyung was eating you out like his mouth was made for it, like he was starving for your taste and you were all that he could think about. He licked you from your entrance to your clit, playing with your sensitive spots and enjoying the tremors of pleasure that ran through your thighs, his hands locked tight around your hips. You sobbed and cried over him, making special effort to keep your legs steady as you rocked yourself on his tongue. 

It was only when he decided to suck on your clit that you realized how absurdly close you were. You clenched your teeth and whined out, yanking his hair harder. “Do that again, please,” you asked and Taehyung, like the good friend that he was, was quick to comply. Taehyung wrapped his mouth around your clit in a way that had you trembling over him, licking and sucking on your sensitive nub like his life depended on it. “Fuck, that’s so good, Tae. Feels so good…” 

He moaned again, more desperate this time, and some part of your mind understood the pattern that he was presenting you: Taehyung really, really liked your compliments. And you had no problem giving away any more of them. 

“You’re licking me so well, Tae, you’re gonna make me cum like this,” you told him,  meaning every word you said. Taehyung was a Greek god beneath you, staring up at you with those dark, focused eyes as if he dared you to cum on his tongue. “God! You’re so good for me.”

And then your praises ran thin, because your mind was gravitating somewhere else — seeking for the high that was dangerously close. It was only when Taehyung started toying with your entrance, brushing two of his fingers on it, that you came undone, crying out his name like it was a personal prayer. 

There was a smirk on your mouth as you came down, a flooding relief that overtook you. You never thought that you could come so hard in your life, especially when it depended on another person, and you were so, so happy to be wrong that you could cry. 

With shaky legs, you removed yourself from Taehyung’s face, straddling his lap and watching as his lips glistened with your arousal. His pink tongue came out to lick them, a hum on his throat as he took in your fucked-out expression. 

“You did so well, baby,” he said, placing one of his hands on your waist. “Come here.” 

Obedient, you leaned in and sighed as his mouth met yours. This time, Taehyung didn’t wait to eagerly insert his tongue inside your mouth, making you taste yourself on him. 

He pulled away leisurely, his voice hoarse. “Can you taste how sweet you are?” He asked. “I loved making you cum on my tongue, baby. You looked so pretty.” 

Taehyung breathed out, planting kisses on your neck, one hand trailing down to squeeze your ass. You whined at his tight grip and pressed yourself down on him, feeling his hard cock poking out against the fabric of his sweats. 

Taehyung groaned at the stimulation, pressing down on your asscheek again. You rolled your hips on top of him, wincing in sensitivity as his member brushed your clit. “Loved your pussy so much, baby,” he continued, sounding like he was lost in a daydream, “I can’t wait to be inside you. Bet you’d be so tight for my cock, hm?” 

“Yeah,” you managed to speak. Even if you had just reached your orgasm, you were still aching to feel something inside you. You wanted Taehyung more than you could understand. “I want you to fuck me, Tae, please.” 

He breathed out, his hands tightening around your flesh as you rolled your pussy against his cock once again. Taehyung looked like he was one heartbeat away from completely losing his self control, and hearing you beg for him to fuck you wasn’t doing him any favors. “Gonna need to lie down for me, baby,” he asked. 

With a few more shifts on the couch, Taehyung had you beneath him once again, your legs open for him as he removed his shirt and pants. It wasn’t long before his cock sprung free from its confinement, standing erect. You licked your lips at the lustful sight, pussy clenching in anticipation as you took him in — Taehyung was big. Bigger than anyone you’ve ever had, that’s for sure; long and thick and already leaking for you. 

You would’ve cried out in need if he didn’t interrupt you. “What are you looking at?” Taehyung asked, the ghost of a smile creeping up on his lips. 

Your stare oscillated toward his own. “That’s why you have such a good track record, your cock is huge.” You bit your lip, thinking about how good he would feel inside you. You didn’t know how it was possible, but you were pretty sure the last time you’ve seen his cock — back in the dark ages of your freshman year of college — it wasn’t as big as that. Or maybe you just didn’t have anything to compare it to. 

“Hey, I just used my tongue on you, don’t ignore my efforts,” Taehyung teased, wrapping one of his hands around his member so he could pump himself a few times. The playful atmosphere swiftly shifted back, and, when he spoke up again, his voice was deeper. “You think you can take it?” 

“Yeah, I can,” you said. You couldn’t be sure, but you were sure going to try. 

Taehyung hummed, moving a bit closer so he could brush his tip against your pussy, coating it with your wetness. You closed your eyes in expectation, knowing that you’d love the stretch he would give you. 

“You want it?” He asked, a touch of desperation covering his words. Taehyung was nearing his breaking point, and the fluttering of your pussy on his cock was making him go insane. “Want my cock inside your tight little cunt, baby?” 

You nodded, frantic. The brushing of his thick tip on your hole was becoming too much, your walls clenching around nothing, seeking for something to fill you up. “Yes, fuck, I want it so bad.” 

“Are you tight for me, baby?” He was trying to prolong that moment for as much as he could, keep the pretty face you made when you pleaded for him to fuck you burned in the back of his head. Making you cum once was a victory he would take forever, but making you cum around his cock might as well be his life’s biggest achievement. “Ready for me to fuck you?” 

You cried out when he started pressing himself inside you, guiding his crown inside your pussy, then stopping. “Yes, Tae, just put it all in, please,” you whined, hands fumbling for support on his broad shoulders. Taehyung already had you clenching around nothing, you didn’t know what else he wanted from you. “Please, please, fuck me.” 

Taehyung chuckled, looking down at where you two met. He was only human, and his self control was short lived. “Since you asked so nicely…” 

Your back arched off the sofa as you felt the delicious drag of his large cock inside you, opening you up gradually, taking its time before filling you up to the brim. You gasped and sobbed at the overwhelming feeling, nails digging on the skin of his back as Taehyung groaned besides your ear. 

“Fuck, that’s so good.” He let out a shaky breath, and you swore you never heard his voice get so husky before. “I just slipped right in. You’re so fucking wet.” 

Your mind was an apocalypse of confused thoughts and forgotten exclamations, eyes fluttering shut as you dove into the sensation of Taehyung inside you — his hips angling backwards, tilting up just enough so he could move himself away from you core, only to come slamming back inside. The stretch of his cock was amazing, it was making you drunk, and all that you could think about was how much pleasure it was giving you. 

“So-So big—“ you muttered, half aware that the words actually left your lips. 

“How do you like it, uh?” Taehyung asked, his voice dripping sin and hunger. You could tell that he, too, was getting carried away by the feeling, his hips rutting themselves against you at a lazy pace. “Gonna give it to you any way you want it, baby.” 

You bit your lip, a small moan leaving your mouth when Taehyung leaned closer to you, distributing hot kisses on your neck. You swore you’d be happy if you died then. “I like it rough,” you answered. 

He groaned, apparently satisfied with your response. “Whatever you want.” 

Taehyung got to his knees on the couch, deciding to put one foot on the ground for support, his hands raising your hips to help him reach even deeper inside you. Faster than your brain could compute, the shallow, lazy pace he had sat was being replaced with a harsh, fast pumping that made you cry out his name, eyes closing in sheer bliss. 

“Tae! Yes, yes, just like that,” you sobbed, running one hand through your hair. You felt like your body was floating, every cell of your body overheating with the amazing pleasure that Taehyung was giving you. You never had someone fucking you so hard, his cock pistoning inside you, your body bobbing up and down on the couch. 

Taehyung’s eyes were glued to the bouncing of your breasts as he continued to fuck you, a deep groan leaving his chest. “That’s it, take it,” he moaned out, quickening his pace even more. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mouth opening in a silent scream.  “Gonna make you cum so hard around my cock, baby. Gonna fuck you until you cry. Want that?” 

“Yes, yes, please,” you moaned. “Feels so good, Tae.” 

“You like my cock, baby? Like it filling you up?” He asked and you could only nod pathetically, your entire body too fucked out to even respond. “F-fuck, your pussy is so good. Tell me that you love my cock.” 

“I love your cock,” you whined, feeling like a complete hot mess under his thrusts. “I — fuck! — I love your cock so much, Tae, it’s so big.” 

Your words motivated him to fuck you even harder, his member hitting even deeper inside you. Taehyung was getting lost in the stretch of your pussy around him, the glorious sounds you were making, the lust that coated your face every time you called out his name. 

“Shit, I don’t know how anyone could look at you like this and not want to see that pretty face cum.” He was breathing out hard, grunting every time your cunt tightened around him. Taehyung wanted to see you like that forever, taking his cock like a good girl, creaming all over him and begging to do it again. You were wrapping around him so perfectly, taking all of him so well, that he didn’t think he’d manage to move on from that anytime soon. “So fucking hot.”

Taehyung chased after your high like a starving man looking for food, experimentally changing the angle and force of his thrusts to see what would get the best reaction out of you. At last, after a pathetically loud cry from your part after he raised your legs up, it seemed as if he had found it. “I bet you’d be so tight cumming around my cock, baby,” he was thinking out loud at that point, trying to make sense of the pretty sounds and expressions you were giving him so eagerly. He wanted nothing more than to see you cum — it was personal at that point. “I wanna feel you cum around me, baby. Wanna feel it so bad.” 

“I’m c-close.” Your nails dug into his shoulders, eyes closing tightly. There was a light heat in your cheeks and sweat on your forehead that was making Taehyung wonder if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “You’re so good, T-Tae, you’re fucking me so well…” 

Taehyung thought that he could cum right then and there, pushed over the edge with those sweet words alone. He loved being good to you, loved making you feel things that no one else managed to before. He was intoxicated by that sense of superiority, drowning in your praise. He wished that he could fuck you forever. 

“Cream my cock, baby, come on,” he pushed you on, his words hanging somewhere between an order and a breathless plea. You were getting so tight around him that it was making him crazy, your wetness coating his cock and dripping down between your legs like his own personal brand of aphrodisiac. “You can do it, come on. I wanna see you cum so bad.” 

You smiled at him, a cute, fucked-out smirk that made Taehyung go to heaven and back. “So good for me, Tae, you’re so big,” you said, your voice so needy and high-pitched. Your orgasm was looming over you, pressing down on your lower body and making you see stars. It was only a matter of time before Taehyung got you crying out his name, back arching off the couch and mouth falling open in delirium. “Tae! Fuck! Don’t stop, please, I’m gonna—“ 

But your warning came a second too late, because you were already spasming around his length, body shaking as Taehyung thrusted hard inside you. Just as expected, you were absolutely fucking gorgeous when you came — all quivering lips and rolling eyes —, and Taehyung was beyond satisfied to know that he was the only one who saw that pretty face of yours. 

“That’s it, baby, fuck.” Taehyung was starting to feel his own high approaching, called by the delicious tightening and releasing of your pussy around him. His thrusts were messy and harsh; his sweaty hair falling over his eyes like a cascade. “Can I cum inside you, baby? Can I fuck you full of my cum?”

You noticed the desperation in his tone and, with the throbbing of his member inside you, you knew that he wasn’t far. “Yes, please,” you said. “You were so good for me, Tae, you can cum wherever you want.” 

And it was that final taste of praise that pushed Taehyung over his limit; waves upon waves of cum filling you up as he rode out his high. “God— fuck!” He cried out, drunk on the feeling of your walls milking the last drops of cum out of his cock. A few lazy pumps later, and he was collapsing on top of you with a mumbled, “F-Fuck.” 

There was an instant of silence after his orgasm, the quietude only filled by Taehyung’s heavy breathing. You took one hand to his head, caressing the strands as a smile blossomed on your lips. “Well, I believe you now,” you said playfully. “I’m sure you made a bunch of girls orgasm.” 

Taehyung chuckled, breathless. “Thank you, I try,” he said, looking up at you. The darkness in his gaze was gone, and it was just your best friend staring back at you. “You alright?”

“I’m great,” you admitted. You never felt so good in your life. “You?”

“Fantastic, thanks for asking.” He leaned back so he could sit up, running one hand through his disheveled hair before saying, “I’m gonna grab you a towel, hang on.” 

Taehyung left you for a couple minutes before coming back to clean you up, tenderly wiping away the mess you two had created. After he was done, he discarded the towel on the floor and crawled back to rest on your chest once again. 

There was a comforting quietude that floated in the atmosphere, only filled by the muffled buzzing of his freezer and the vague sound of raindrops drumming on the window. You didn’t really know how to deal with that entire situation, didn’t know how things would stay between the two of you. But, at that point, you made the decision to keep those worries for the following morning and, instead, just enjoy his warmth radiating all around you. 

The glorious silence, at last, was broken when Taehyung started mumbling against your breasts.  “Hey, ___?” He called. 

“Yeah?”

“How many dates have you been on?”

You hummed, thinking for a moment. “Ever?”

Taehyung made a clicking sound with his tongue. “I don’t know, like, this past year.”

“Uh… like… five or six? I think?” You answered, looking down to meet his gaze. You knew that wicked expression very well. “Why?”

He smiled. “Because we have a lot of shitty dates to make up for.”

[from-a-reckless-writer]

RE: the tags about being tempted to post a half finished fic and guess the ending, well you are a reckless writer for a reason

this is long overdue, so here have a fic.

It has come to the point that nothing fazes her anymore.

A kidnapping? Been there, done that. It means calling Sam Arias to intimidate the board of members into temporary submission.

An explosion at the office? Just a typical Tuesday. It means relocating to the 23rd floor and sharing the desk with two other interns for 2 months tops.

An assassination attempt? It means bracing herself for at least 3 deliveries of donuts and coffee for the two following weeks that Kara Danvers would be protectively hovering over L-Corp, until her boss snaps and shoos her away back to CatCo.

She’s seen it all, endured it all and she sure as hell is prepared for it all. She’s got three different ironclad statements ready to publish for whatever PR disaster will most likely turn up that week. She’s got contacts from the FBI, DEO, CatCo, Daily Planet, Gotham Gazette-- hell she even has Lillian’s personal cell (just in case the Luthor matriarch ever tries anything y’know? ) and yes, even the number of that 'Mexican place at 5th and Spring, you know the one Kara likes, Jess?'

She’s got two pairs of heels, a raincoat and four sets of outfits neatly folded in a duffel bag, at the back of the office, reserved for any emergency that requires a change of clothes.

The point is, she is an independent Asian-American woman who has worked her ass off for the better part of the decade and has long learned to take no shit from anybody.

Not even stupid superpowered Kryptonians.

See, it takes a lot to be her. It takes unlimited patience to put up with a woman like Lena Luthor, not because she’s a terrible person. Oh no, no, the complete opposite, actually. She is so overwhelmingly kind to a fault, and she doesn’t want nor let anybody see it. It’s infuriating to see sometimes. Okay, fine, she sides with the Krytonian on that one matter. But oh, ho, ho, not today. Today, she’s mad.

She’s livid, actually and it’s all Supergirl’s fault. (and Lena Luthor's too.)

Jess has had her fair share of ‘I-Should-Not-Have-Been-Here’ moments, like that one time she forgot to knock and stumbled unto Lex mid-yell with Lena whose eyes were shimmering but was still keeping a rigid posture.

Or that one time when she thought her boss had long left the office, only to be greeted with quiet sobs and an empty bottle of scotch rolling on the floor. Or that time she happened upon Lena, skirt and sleeves on fire with fumes rising from a green solution.

Apparently, her staff from the lab refused to let her in after three days of their CEO holding herself in isolation with the experiment. Lena had gotten the great idea of smuggling the chemicals to her office instead. Luthors are nothing but determined. Jess still remembers the adrenaline rush of holding a fire extinguisher—as if she were the chosen 5th grader for a school fire drill—and shoving her boss out of the way.

Like she said, nothing fazes her anymore she’s seen it all, except maybe, this one. Yep, definitely this one. This one just made a hot ball of fury unfurl at her very core. This one might just take the cake.

Jess was just going about her day, returned from a hearty lunch and feeling reinvigorated from that dose of sunlight and fresh air. It was a quiet day today, she noticed, which should’ve been a foretelling.

Nothing really is ever quiet. Well, when it comes to L-Corp, at least.

She’s been sitting on her desk for about a good fifteen minutes and finished with screening a few papers from their new contractors, when it occurs to her that the latest blueprints from R&D are still on her desk instead of already being reviewed by her boss.

She grabs the drawing tube and quickly makes for her boss’s private office. They’ve spent enough time with each other that Jess could just come and go as she pleases, instead of having to knock each time. Saves both of their time, that way.

Although, usually, she buzzes through the intercom first to double check, but it was 1:20 P.M and she knows Lena doesn’t have anything scheduled after lunch. So, she pushes the door, confidently strolls in and promptly stops in her tracks.

Jess stops breathing for a moment, blinks once, twice, stares at the scene before her.

Lena Luthor sat atop her work desk; blouse open, eyes closed, cheeks flushed, neck currently being ravaged by Supergirl with legs wrapped around the waist.

She probably should’ve just turned and left while they haven’t seen her yet. That would’ve been the smart decision, right? Yes. Yes, it was so very clearly The Right Decision.

Of course, she doubts she could look Lena in the eye for the next few weeks after that, but at least she wouldn’t know that Jess walked in on them during an er- make-out session? Office tryst? Oh God, she shudders internally. It sounds even worse.

Incident? Yep. Yeah. She’s sticking with incident. Indecent incident sounds more apt really.

She should’ve left. Would have left, if her eyes didn’t just land on the desk—well, more like Miss Luthor’s as- backside—and felt the stirrings of rage make itself known. Because there, underneath Lena’s ass (Backside!! Jess, that’s your boss!) is the squished—probably crumpled—pages of a contract.

A contract they’ve spent 5 months securing!!

Jess decides to do what everyone else would have done in a situation such as this; she clears her throat. Loudly.

Classic move.

Supergirl’s head immediately shoots up and Lena’s eyes snap open.

“Jess!” Supergirl squeaks and she sees the exact moment the realization hits Lena. Her eyes widening at her girlfriend’s exclamation, whips her head to the side, spots Jess, hands scrambling to a panic to close all the buttons of her blouse.

She hears Lena hiss, “Fuck, shit. Oh my God. Shit. How did she even- You have superhearing!!!” as she pushes Supergirl—who lets herself be pushed, stunned by the intrusion, face redder than a tomato.

Lena gets off the desk, fixes herself all the while to futile results. Her hair is tugged down from her usual ponytail, her neck and chest is marked, her lips swollen.

Supergirl's hands twitch at the sides and Jess sees her gulp as blue eyes frantically dart to Lena and her, and then Lena, and then back to her.

Lena finally turns around after those few awkward beats.

"Jess," she begins, clearly trying hard to put on her business bitch persona, but come on, there's a hickey under her jaw for fuck's sake.

"It's not what you-"

Jess doesn’t let her finish, she stomps her way across the office and forcefully puts the drawing tube on the desk. It makes a hollow thump.

“Jess I-”

“Supergirl, do you know how long it takes to finalize a business proposal, pitch it to the board, persuade the board and finally have a contract drawn?”

Supergirl gulps again. Lena’s eyes are wild next to her, she doesn’t like not knowing what the next best move is, Jess knows this all too well.

“Uhhh- no?”

Jesus Christ, you’d think after years of shadowing Cat Grant, she'd had at least learned a thing or two. Then again, if somebody is full on glaring at her after getting caught red-handed, Jess doubts she could answer coherently too.

“That’s right,” Jess says, “You don’t.”

“Jess,” Lena repeats pointedly. She knows that tone. It’s a warning.

“Ms. Luthor.”

A period not a question mark. It’s a challenge.

"I've spent all my evenings working late on that, do you know how many dates I've had to cancel? Just so I can secure a meeting with Qatar and simultaneously sync it with Beijing's time? My boyfriend hasn't seen me in two weeks!” Jess bursts out.

“Two weeks, Supergirl!” She gets close enough to jab a finger to the Girl of Steel’s chest. A feat she will gladly tell all her coworkers later when she’s calmed down enough.

“Not to mention, the 10 other people who worked their ass off trying to make sure that Miss Luthor's presentation is airtight, bulletproof and waterproof!” Lena has the decency to look a little guilty at this point, nothing big though, just a slight tug at her lips, but it was enough for Jess.

“IT TOOK ME 3 FUCKING MINUTES TO PRINT THAT GODDAMN CONTRACT WHICH MIGHT NOT SOUND LONG—” Jess raises a finger in emphasis, “BUT BELIEVE ME WORKING IN L-CORP? A 3 MINUTE DIFFERENCE CAN MEAN AN ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT OR PSYCHOPATH PRESS!”

Supegirl of all people should already know this! For fuck’s sake!

Jess’s chest is heaving. She takes a deep breath, kneads her knuckles to her eyelids, “So, please if you're gonna have sex in the office, please, pleaseeeee clear the desk first. And at least, lock the door.”

She stares them both down, till Lena gives her a solemn nod; cheeks and ears still red. Supergirl squeaks out an, “U-understood, Ma’am.”

“Good. Glad we’ve come to an agreement.” Jess gives them one final nod before finally fulfilling what she came in here to do, “Miss Luthor,” She turns to Lena, “here are the R&D blueprints. Good day, to you Supergirl. I'll be going now. "

When she finally goes home, tells her boyfriend, and wonders aloud if she’ll still have a job the next morning, he tells her she’s such a badass.

And well, Jess can’t disagree with that.

*****

"Did I just- Did I just get yelled at by your secretary?? D-did she just chew us out?"

"She did, and she deserves a raise."

[lavishedinjimin]

corruption w dom jimin and he’s just so condescending and mocking the reader :[

Btw ur writing is amazing ty ily

I love how you put the ' :[ ' right after lmao what a mood. tysm and ilyt anon ♥

I apologize in advance if this isn't condescending/mocking enough! But nevertheless, I hope this will still make yall feel da tingles.

~

Jimin was part of an underground Kendo team, has a black belt in it, and loves to drive people nuts with his intense skills and passion for martial arts. He was a man of determination and focus, for when he gets in the zone of things, he tends to cut everything off. That's how he won so many championships.

But the day that you discovered their secret little hideout, things have changed for Jimin.

He keeps being distracted by your beauty, not after so many years of just pure training and dedicating his time to Kendo. You were so different than him; an incredibly sweet, kind, and innocent lady that seemed so lost after accidentally stumbling into the hideout. And he always looks intimidating and had a resting bitch face, his eyes seeming so frightening whenever they land on someone else's.

Although, that's beside the point. Because of your adorable aspects, Jimin knew that he had to get you.

Fast forward to a couple months, you and Jimin were the best of friends. He was an easy man to hang out with, and all experiences with him were never dull. He knows how to please you, and he puts you first before any other.

But what you did not know, though, is that he has a hidden side to his persona.

Today, you and Jimin were the only ones in the gym. You were analyzing the display of swords on the other side, and you can see on the giant mirror wall that Jimin was approaching you.

"You look really pretty," he murmurs, glancing at you through the mirror, eyeing your body up and down. "Why did you dress up today?"

You still weren't used to his sometimes straightforward nature. Your cheeks heat up, attempting to answer without fumbling over your words, "I'm only wearing a blouse and a skirt, Jimin. What are you on about?"

"Nothing," he smirks, going up behind you. He takes your breath away when he suddenly gives you a firm back hug. "I like your skirt."

"Oh?"

"Yup. It's a little..." his face contorts into a somewhat disagreeing expression, "it's a little bit short though. You really decided to walk around wearing those?"

"Jimin!" you hold his hands that were clasped together in front of you. "that's mean."

Jimin holds back a chuckle. The tone in his voice changes, and a more sexy and sultry aura radiates out of him, "Mean? That's already mean for you?" Jimin pauses and scoffs, "you still have a lot to learn about me, then."

Your hair swooshes when he flips your body around to look at him. He locks his eyes on your lips, down your body, then back to your shimmering eyes.

"I'm just saying the truth, Y/n. Was it your intention to wear such a short skirt so that I can practically see your ass cheeks, huh?"

"Jimin—!" you squeal, covering your embarrassment but he doesn't stop teasing you.

"Was it your intention to turn me on, baby girl?"

You were dead silent after that, feeling your heart rate quicken as his hands slowly caress your back, down to your clothed butt. "Awh," he chuckles, "look at you. I barely talked dirty and you're already a blushing mess."

Jimin raises the flimsy cloth of your skirt up to immediately squeeze your bare butt. You whimper from his action. "I can see your nipples growing hard through that blouse, Y/n. You're enjoying this aren't you?"

"Yeah," you meekly respond, your eyes prying away from his strong gaze.

He towers over you until your back hits the nearest wall, corning yourself. Jimin now has full control over you, and the thought of making you submit to him feeds onto his primitive desires.

"You're scared? Don't be scared, baby," Jimin fake pouts, "look at you, biting your lip. You don't know how much you drive me mad just by looking at me like that with those innocent eyes."

"Please," you whisper to him, "Jimin, I-I feel something."

He puts his hand on your hips, his knee slowly making its way in between your legs. "What do you feel, huh? Is it your pussy aching for friction? Do you want this?" He rubs your core through the layers of clothes, making you mewl in desperation. You nod your head yes.

"Oh yeah? My pretty little girl wants something to rub her needy pussy? Aww, baby," he muses, "Look at you, who would've thought that an innocent baby girl like you would do this for someone she'd barely known for a year? Are you the type to fuck and run, Y/n? Huh?"

You don't even know what that means!

Jimin reaches down to feel how wet you are through your panties, and he laughs at the results. "Oh my god," his fingers graze up and down your slit, making your legs buck and feel your knees slowly giving up. "I've barely touched you and you're so wet. You a virgin, baby girl? This cunt hasn't felt any pleasure in so long from how soaked you are, huh?"

Feeling a new sense of desperation, you try to grind against his hand, wanting more, but this only resulted in him slapping your cunt. You jump from the sudden impact, whimpering out loud like a puppy.

"Bad girl," he mutters, "Oh, baby girl. If you're mine I would've trained and taught you how to be such an obedient little pet. Not a dirty, rash little girl." Jimin clicks his tongue after you hang your head down in shame, "No. Look at me. Damn, you're so fucking shy. You can do better than that, right? You can act like a fucking adult and take what I give you?"

Jimin's hand sneaks up your blouse to grab your boob, your hard nipples brushing against his palm as you release another moan. "Shit, even a simple touch can make you wild."

Without anticipating it, he steals a kiss directly on the tip of your nose. "You are so freaking cute," he says right after, "so cute that I wanna destroy your pussy and taint your fucking soft attitude until my cock is the only thing you want in your life."

~

kinda lost control with this drabble's backstory lmao it's like a whole plot to a fanfic.................

[hangovercurse]

The GQ Couples Quiz

You, a famous actress, and your boyfriend, MGK, do an interview about your relationship for GQ.

Request: “Can I get a Colson Baker imagine where you do the couple interview for buzzfeed please”

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: I changed it to the GQ interview because I couldn’t find the one for Buzzfeed, sorry!

Word Count: 2480

“Hey guys I’m MGK”

“And I’m Y/S/N”

“And this is the GQ couples quiz.” You both said at the same time before busting out in laughter at the corniness.

“I think you know way more about me than I know about you.” Colson said, a nervous look on his face.

You giggled, “I think I know some stuff that could get you into trouble.”

The producers behind the cameras laughed at that. “Okay, I’ll go first.” Colson picked up the cards in his hand. “What is my full name?”

You smiled, “Starting off with the heavy stuff here, guys.” You said, looking behind the cameras with a laugh. “Your full name is Richard Colson Baker.” Colson made a face at the use of his first name which made you giggle.

“Yeah, but if anyone calls me Richard or Richie,” he pointed straight into the camera, “I will come for you.” You giggled at his silliness, looking at your own card which held the same question.

“Okay, what is my full name?” You looked up at him, “If you get this wrong, I will walk out of here.”

His eyes went wide, “I think I know my own girlfriend’s name Ms. Y/F/N.” You giggled, nodding in approval, and letting him continue. “Where was I born?”

You rolled your eyes, “Houston, Texas. Easy. Where was I born?”

“Y/B/T” He said with a grin, flipping to the next card.

“What is my secret talent?”

“You say this is your secret talent, but you talk about it all the time so I don’t know if it counts.” You said, “but you can juggle.”

He nods, “That’s the only talent I have so it counts.” You giggled, shaking your head. “Yours is that you can balance shit on your head, right? Like cups and plates and shit.”

You nodded, “together we make a whole circus act.”

You both laughed, his entire body moving as he did. Eventually, he calmed down and looked at the next card. “I’m gonna look like such a shitty boyfriend.” You laughed, waiting for him to read the question, “What’s my favorite meal?”

You laughed harder, “you don’t know my favorite meal?”

He threw his head back, “I know what you eat a lot but like, I couldn’t tell you what is specifically your favorite meal.”

You giggled, “yours is Soul food. Like chicken and mac n cheese and all that.”

He nodded, “I was gonna say chicken wings, but you’re right.”

“Every time we go to Cleveland you drag me to that one place and you get so excited about it.” You told him and he smiled. “Do I wanna ask you what mine is?”

“Dude, you are gonna make me look so bad.” He shook his head, but tried anyways, “I mean, I know you like making breakfast with me and Case, but I don’t know if that’s your favorite meal or not.”

You grinned widely, excited that he got it right. “No, you’re so right. Like, it’s not the best food,” he pouted, “but the fact that we all make it together is really cute.”

He blushed, reading the next card. “What is my favorite song to sing around the house?” He started laughing in the middle of the question, making you laugh with him.

“Oh my god, what doesn’t he sing around the house?” You said to the crew behind the screen. Slim and Baze were standing to the side, laughing with you. “I guess normally its whatever he’s working on. Like I swear, no one is more obsessed with his music than he is.”

His cheeks were red and he buried his face behind his cards. “I’d like to disagree but I really don’t have a favorite song to sing around the house. It’s just kind of whatever’s in my head.’

“So, then I still get the point, right?”

“I guess you still get the point.” He sighed.

“Okay this one is different for me, what is my favorite song to dance to?” You asked, grinning slyly at him.

He rolled his eyes, “if you play anything by 24kGoldn, she will be dancing to it. If you play anything I’ve come out with, she skips it.”

You gaped, “I do not skip it you ass! You just don’t make good dancing music. There’s nothing wrong with that, I just can’t dance and cry at the same time.” By the end of your statement, you were both laughing like little kids. “But Goldn, he makes some dance-worthy music.”

Colson shook his head but continued. “What was the name of the first song I ever released and my first album?”

“Lace up.” You announced, making the x symbol with your hands. Colson nodded, smiling at you fondly. “Uh, your first song was…” you trailed off, thinking. “It wasn’t Wild Boy, was it?”

He shook his head, “nope, earlier than that. It was never on an official album.”

Your eyes shot open in realization, “Oh! Alice in Wonderland!” You shouted and he nodded, smiling proudly.

“I swear to God I look so bad right now.” He complained.

You chuckled, shaking your head, “We’ve gotten the same number of questions right! I wouldn’t have gotten that if you hadn’t told me it wasn’t on an album.” He let out a sigh but you continued, “what was the first piece of film I ever appeared in?”

You could tell he was thinking, “like commercials and stuff count?” You nodded, “you were in that Febreze commercial when you were like, 12, weren’t you?”

You laughed really loud, your head going back and your eyes shutting. “I hate that you know that.” Colson pumped his fists in the air, celebrating his correct answer.

“If you were to ask like your first actual like movie, it was Nerve, cause that’s how we met.” He said, a wide grin on his face. You nodded, matching his energy. He looked at the card, his eyes going soft. “Okay this one’s cute, when was our first date and what did we do?”

You giggled, remembering the long path to your relationship. “Our first actual date was on April 23rd, 2019. We went to a little drive-in movie and you borrowed Baze’s truck and we sat in the bed and uh… let me just say we didn’t do much watching.” The crew members started laughing with you, so much that you had to take a few seconds of a break.

“We’ll cut the break out, don’t worry.” The assistant director said. Colson’s face was red, trying to hide his laugh as you went back to the video.

You cleared your throat, “when was our first kiss?”

He chuckled, “It was not that night, funnily enough.” You both giggled, hiding your face in embarrassment. “Our first kiss was the night before. It was my birthday and we were in this huge house and there were a ton of people around and I realized that you were the only person I actually wanted to be with at that moment in time. So, we snuck out to the backyard with a bottle of something and spent the rest of the night getting drunk with each other. And at some point, I kissed you.” You smiled, the memory of that night coming back to you. “And then I asked you on said first date.”

There were a few scattered “awes” from the production team, which you laughed off. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, it was cute, next question.”

He shook his head at you but read the next question, “Ugh, these are all so cheesy. When did I first say I loved you?”

You chuckled, “You were on tour and I hadn’t seen you in like two months except on the phone. So, when you got back, you took me and Casie out for lunch and then we went to this skate park. I remember I was teaching Casie how to skate and you just kind of blurted it out. And Casie and I both looked at you like “what the fuck did you just say?” and you got really embarrassed about it and then Casie said “finally!” like she had been waiting for it.”

You were a giggling mess, happiness flooding your body as you remembered the moment. “No,” he started, “you don’t understand. Casie figured it out like weeks before me. We were talking on the phone, and this kid, my nine-year-old daughter, started teasing me about how nervous I was to tell you.”

Your grin widened. “I swear Casie would’ve killed me if I hadn’t told you that day.”

“I will have to thank Casie at some point.” You said as you flipped to the next question. “What is my favorite movie and TV show? You gotta get them both right.”

He put his head in his hands, letting out a sigh. “I know your favorite movie is Nerve for obvious reasons,” he motioned up and down his body, “however, I know you’ve seen The Dirt about a hundred times, so.” He pointed his head at you and you rolled your eyes.

“He’s so egotistical.” You said to the camera. “But you’re right, Nerve is my favorite movie not only because its how we met but also because it was the first movie I was ever in. But if you were to ask my favorite movie that I’m not in, it would be The Dirt. You get 2 points for that one.”

Colson nodded, “hell yeah. Okay, what do I consider my biggest career accomplishment?”

Your eyes went wide as you realized you didn’t know the answer. “I could say like three or four different things right now.” You whined, looking to him for help. “When Miocic started coming out to your song, when you recorded with Crue, when Cena started using your song. You’ve done so much shit.”

He chuckled, “yeah but what’s the most important one, like to me?”

You tilted your head, “Was it when you performed on New Year’s?” You asked, feeling slightly embarrassed.

He laughed, “you’re a goddamn mind reader, I swear.” You smiled, sighing in relief, “yeah, it wasn’t like the biggest thing but it was the most important to me.”

You smiled, “we’re just on the same wavelength.” He rolled his eyes at your goofiness. “Okay, okay. How do you know when I’m mad at you?”

He chuckled, looking down at his hands, “if its something I did and we’re like, in public, you just won’t talk to me and like you won’t let me touch you.” He turned to the camera and the rest of the room, “like we are both very touchy people, so if she stops holding my hand or something, I know I fucked up.”

You giggled, nodding in agreement, “but if I really mess up, she’ll let me know.”

“We’re very big on communication.” You smiled, both of you stifling laughter at the many memories of you arguing over stupid things. “But it’s why this works, y’know?” You said to the camera.

“You should get this one, what’s my biggest fear?” He asked, the room falling silent.

You turned to look at him, a soft smile on your face. “Losing Casie.” You said, “or me, but mostly Casie.” You both knew how much he loved Casie. It was what attracted you to him so much in the first place. And since you’d known him, Casie had become equally important in your life.

He nodded, “yeah. I’ve had, like, actual nightmares about it. Scariest shit.”

You let the answer linger in the air for a second before pulling out the last card. “Okay, last question. When did we first meet and when did you first realize you liked me?” You grinned up at him and he blushed.

“First day we met was the day of the Nerve read through and we hit it off immediately. But I realized I “liked” you,” he used air quotes when he said the word liked, “when you did that ladder scene. I remember thinking like, “damn, that girl is fucking metal.””

You laughed, “I was so terrified but I was trying to keep calm because I wanted you to think I was cool.” You squeezed your eyes shut, “I was freaking out.”

Colson laughed with you, pausing to catch his breath, “but the first time I realized I loved you was when I was on tour. Normally I called you before I went out after the show, but this one night I was really burnt out and the only thing I wanted to do was to sit on the bus and facetime you. And even though I was like four hours behind you and it was like 5 am where you were, you stayed up with me and we just talked for a while. And then you fell asleep without hanging up and I couldn’t bring myself to hang up. So, I just, as creepy as this shit sounds, I just watched you sleep. And I had that thought of like, I could do this every night and not get bored of it. And that’s when I realized that I loved you.”

The look on your face explained your emotions perfectly, and it was something the internet talked about for a while after the video was released. Colson blushed, “now you gotta say when you first realized you liked me so I don’t look like a little bitch.”

You laughed loudly, body shaking. “Ok, first time I realized I liked you was when you brought Casie to set. Like, the way you acted with her and everything was so sweet. Like I was already attracted to you but that was the point where I was like, woah.” You made wide eyes to prove your point. “I realized I loved you the same facetime call. I hate being woken up and I was really mad when my phone rang. But then I saw it was you and my heart literally did a little backflip. The next morning, I woke up to the call still going and you were asleep on the other end and I realized that I would never answer a facetime call at 5 am for anyone else.”

He smiled fondly at you, “we’re so in sync.” You giggled, agreeing.

“Okay, that was our really cheesy GQ couple’s quiz. Thank you guys so much for watching. Stream Daywalker by MGK and Corpse.” You said to the camera.

“And go see Y/N’s new movie out on Netflix!” Your boyfriend said giving a thumbs up to the camera.

The director gave you the signal to cut and you let out a sigh of relief, looking over to Colson, who was already looking at you. “I love you.” He said.

“I love you too, dork.” You mumbled, moving from your chair to his, resting your head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you.

[mxvladdy]

Oof, my little heart couldn't hold all of the feels you elicited with "Worth", so good. You were very thorough

Can I request a NSFW continuation later that afternoon?

Maybe a bit of praise kink since his little Giglio needs reassurance? (Also, 👀 demon daddy dick in a tiny human can't be easy)

A/N: *ears perk up* How did you know all of my weaknesses?

Pairing: Diavolo x GN! Reader

Warnings: Little bit of size kink, little bit of daddy kink, smut (18+)

Word Count: 4.6k (there is a lot leading up to it lol)

You decide to take the rest of your meal to Diavolo’s private solarium. While his inner chambers were comfortable enough. If you were going to take the day to yourselves you didn’t want to spend all of it in the bedroom. No matter how tempting the idea was. Dia takes you through the maze of corridors and hidden doors, both of you still in your night things, unkempt but happy to be so. Normally Diavolo wouldn’t be caught dead outside of a pressed suit or his uniform, but this was a treat for both of you after all. So now he strolled through his kingdom in nothing but a pair of sleep pants and sleepers, you nestled comfortably in his arms grasping a basket of leftover food and drink tucked in your lap. No stuffy clothes today or polite word play, just layed back pleasures.

Artificial sunlight greets you as he pushes the large glass door open to his garden with his shoulder. The warmth of it cuts through the thin fabric of your sleepwear, chasing away the last vestiges of drowsiness that clung to you. You unfurl in his arms, stretching out like the plants around you. Smiling up into the sun you can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. The breeze circling around you was sweet with the smell of blooming spring flowers and crisp creek water.

The first time Diavolo invited you into his secret garden you were in awe. He boasted proudly to you that he had designed it and planted the gardens himself back in his younger years before his duties took up almost all his time. It was a wild place. The plants growing free and unmolested by controlling hands or others' judgment of what beauty was. It reflected the unique characteristics of the Prince beautifully. To be given access to this place was an honor. Not even the brothers knew of this area. His personal beach was a place he didn’t mind sharing with his closest companions, but the gardens? The gardens were just his. Only he and Barbatos knew of it. Until you came along.

“Where shall we sit mio giglio?” His gold eyes sweep his grounds before looking down at you with a tender smile. “By the willows? They are in bloom, or perhaps the lake.” He nods his chin to the south following a clean well maintained brick path. Both of these places were your favorite places to relax after school.

You look down at the basket in your lap in thought. “No. How about the veranda by the hedge garden?” That was his favorite place to lounge.

He hums in delight, agreeing readily. “Wonderful! The cosmos should be in bloom by now.” He turns to the north traipsing through soft overgrown grass and sprouts of spongy moss. He didn’t have a path for this area.

“You can just make them bloom whenever, right?” You ask.

“And where would be the fun in that?” He shoots you a wink. “Magic doesn’t need to be used for everything you know.”

You huff. “Says the guy that can do magic.” He laughs but doesn’t disagree. The sound of a babbling brook grows louder and louder as you both venture further into the heart of his garden. The trees and bushes tickle your body as he walks through the grove of overgrown branches and vines to the most secluded part. Breaching one more dense shrubbery you arrive. He lets you down with a tender kiss before going about collecting the discarded floor cushions and blankets scattered about the patio. He works in silence creating a semi-circle of puff by the edge of the deck. You let him work placing the basket by the little nest forming and go to lean over the low railing separating you from a short drop down to the flowing waters traveling underneath you. The air was cooler here from the freshwater. It gives you goosebumps up your bare legs. “Careful,” Dia calls to you, looking up from his work. “The wood is slick there.”

You nod showing him that both of your hands were on the railing as you venture over to the bright blue and yellow flowers pushing their way through the gaps in the wood. They sway innocently up at you. Their petals are soft and forgiving under the pads of your fingers. They looked like human plants, but you were certain. “Everything here is safe for you to explore.”

Turning to your prince you laugh. His large body now splayed out over the nest he had just finished. His body faces away from you towards the unlit fire pit. He looks at you upside down, his head draping over a large bolster pillow. “Oh? Does that include you?” You match his teasing smile stopping inches away from his outstretched hands. He scoffs in frustration, making grabby hands at your thighs to make you join him.

“Of course tesoro. This day is for us… for you. If you so desire.” His voice is calm and light but his eyes are predatory.

“I do like that idea.” You inch closer bending down to trace a finger over his bare chest. You follow the swirling marks of his heritage up his chest and arms to his parted lips. “I do have some ideas…” You trail off feeling claw-tipped fingers circling your calves and travel up to your inner thighs. The tips of which brush dangerously close to the edges of your underwear.

Diavolo beams. “Dia!” You yelp in shock as he takes your knees out from under you. You tumble forward into his warm body and pillows. His laugh is jovial and bright, way too pleased with his little stunt. Straightening yourself out on his chest you match his gentle rolling laugh with your own breathless one.

“Mio Giglio.” He comes up to kiss the laugh lines curling around your lips. “Cosa c’é che non va?” He hugs you closer. You laugh accepting his affections. “Such a beauty.” He marvels. “Even with the dried drool.” He swipes at the corner of your mouth before you could protest.

“Hey!” You wiggle in his embrace elbowing his stomach in jest. “I do not!” You rub your warming face just to make sure. “Though, you would too if you slept like the dead. Mister toss and turn all night.” Dia chortles.

“I do not know that colloquialism.” He raises a red brow. You can see the excitement lighting up in his eyes at the thought of learning something new, something entirely human. “You do not reek of death.” He sniffles obnoxiously for comedic effect. “You smell alive and wholly mine. Though the latter is fading.” He nips your shoulder. “Has it been that long since we have lain together?” Your silence as you thought was enough of an answer for him.

“Apologies-” He growls. “I have neglected you more than I thought. Shall we rectify that?” Two warm hands grasp your bottom grinding you down slowly on the growing hardness between his legs. You groan letting him set a slow leisurely grind to your hips. You rock for a while capturing his lips with yours. His kisses leave you breathless. “May I?” You don’t know what he was asking for but whatever it was you knew it was going to be good.

With your eager nod of encouragement, Dia flops back down onto his back and holds you firm to his chest. With his eyes on yours, he slides forward till his shaggy head disappears underneath the hem of your sleepshirt. His hot breath dampens the skin of your inner thigh. You squirm feeling a definitely inhuman tongue trailing up to your center, tasting the salt forming there. Relax my flower, let me in. His voice echoes deep within your head. Its low thrumming helps your body relax under his skilled mouth and hands. Your eyes close, more than ready for Diavolo to consume you in the best possible way. His purr trails up your spine while his face nuzzles deeper into the fabric of your damp underwear.

Then your stomach rumbles-loudly.

“Ha!Ha!” In a flash, Diavolo pops out from beneath your legs. His fangs glistening while he laughs. “My darling, have I now neglected one of your base needs?”

“You’re neglecting me now~” You try to grab his shoulders to continue, fighting like mad not to glow even hotter with embarrassment as your stomach roars again. He laughs louder. It booms out ricocheting off the wooden floor.

“Come now. I will claim you soon enough beloved. First, let us sate your other hunger.” Righting your clothes he nestles you in beside him reaching over for the basket. He chuckles, not letting your pouting get to him. He swats your ass teasingly making you squeak. “Coffee or tea?” He rubs the spot he just hit and pulls out two large insulated carafes.”

You eye him. “When did you plan this?” He smiles, serving you up a plate of goodies and a cup of coffee.

“This morning when Barbatos came to rouse me for my morning meetings.” He pops a piece of smoked meat in his mouth and looks out into the sunlit garden. “I suggested instead of getting my uniform ready, perhaps he would kindly bring some warm drinks and extra pillows to the solarium before leaving us to our own devices.” He leans back into the tufted blankets and pillows. “I thought some “air” would be good for-err...me. To clear my head a little before- you know.” His cheeks pinken.

“You’re hungover.” You snort into your toast. It wasn’t a question and he doesn’t deny it. Instead, he goes to pour himself a large cup of black coffee.

“I thought by the time you woke up it would pass.” He shrugs. “But I believe the fresh air and sun wouldn’t hurt either,” Diavolo pauses in thought before continuing. “Plus, I always wanted to fuck you out here.”

You choke. “You could have just said so.” You poke his leg.

“And ruin the surprise?” He pokes you back.

You eat your fill of the basket, topping each piece of the crusty pieces of bread you pull out with soft cheeses and savory prosciutto, sprinkling the tops of each with pine nuts and a drizzle of honey. All the while Diavolo sips at his coffee deep in thought. You catch his eyes several times while you eat, his eyes following the trail of your tongue as you try in vain to clean the sticky residue left from the sweet syrup on your fingers. The last time you catch him you offer him a tacky finger, getting dangerously close to his stubbly cheek. “Want some?”

The prince chuckles, tilting his head away. He grabs your wrist gently. “What a mess, my little human.” He licks one of your fingers, sucking the tip for a moment before releasing you. You pull your hand back, scrunching your nose up in distaste.

“I didn’t expect you to actually lick them!” He laughs, pulling a napkin out for you. You take it and wipe your hands.

“Please, you act like I haven’t tasted all of you before.” His playful gaze flashes hungrily over you for a moment. He takes your empty plates from you and places them to the side. “Come here piccolo giglio I believe we had some unfinished business, no?” You clamber up his lap spreading your legs wide to straddle him. Diavolo chuffs, the sound rattling your chest. “Shall I start where I left off?” He rucks your shirt up higher revealing inch after inch of soft skin till it bundles one your waist. His callous fingers skirt over your underwear to tug at the waistband.

Dia pulls you in for a searing kiss, teeth grazing over your lips and tongue. You follow his pace, his kisses languid. Before long he begins to lead your hips in a slow grind over his covered dick. His hands rolling your hips in time with his kisses. The slow tempo doesn’t last long. While he may have the patience of the saints you most certainly didn’t.

He grins into your kiss when he feels you huff in annoyance. Your hands come up to cup his cheeks in warning. “Stop teasing me.” You separate from him with a whimper. He grins taking a thick finger to the seam of your underwear.

“Is it not the devil’s job to tempt?” His gold eyes flash in warning before the world turns upside down. You land on your back, the cushions catching your tumble. Your shout of surprise turns into a high pitch whine of pleasure as Dia’s head buries itself between your splayed legs. His tongue follows the line his finger had just traced earlier. “Getting to indulge my sweetheart in a paradise like this? I am upset that I had not thought of this sooner.” He whispers to himself. He pauses, pushing away to look at you. The air around him grows thick. “Tell Daddy what you need.” You shiver, breath catching at the sharp drop in his tone. His jovial teasing was gone, replaced with a tone of authority that makes your toes curl. His hot whisper caresses your ear and your mind goes blank.

What did you want? What did you want first? You wanted his fingers stroking you to completion, his lips kissing every cry that spilled from your lips. You wanted his solid body covering yours rocking deep inside of you. You wanted him to erase every fear and anxiety that the court had instilled in you. “You.” It was all you could manage to say, but it was enough for him. Pushing you onto your back he grabs your hips and pulls them into the air, throwing your legs around his broad shoulders. You wiggle your shoulders deeper into the pillows grinning up at Diavolo as you squeeze your thighs around his ears. Groaning in satisfaction, he leans forward. Your underwear doesn’t last long now that he has you where he wants you. The soft fabric tearing in his haste to remove them, the tattered remains of the cotton thrown off into the bushes to be forgotten. There is no preamble anymore. His tongue laps broad patterns across your entrance.

“D…” You arch your back upwards, grinding yourself onto his face. “Dia.” Diavolo rumbles back, squeezing your quacking thighs to comfort you. He pulls you closer still, eyes locking with yours to watch your reaction as he circles your hole. He waits there playing with you until he sees something he liked in your expression. When he sees whatever it was that he was looking for he strikes, sinking his tongue deep, groaning with you at the feel of tight muscles relaxing around his intrusion. You cover your mouth trying hard to muffle your sounds in the silent garden around you. Even if you were alone, just the thought that you could be overheard sent a shudder through you. You could hear your heart hammering in your ears as the demon slowly worked you open. You wail, forgetting your previous attempts to be silent when you felt a large finger join his tongue.

He rubs against you slowly twisting and pulling his finger and tongue in mind numbing patterns to bump along your sides till you choke. He hums sucking noisily in triumph. Bringing his hands up, he spread your cheeks further apart burying deeper. “Dia-please.” You pull at his hair unsure if you were asking for more or less. You could feel a fire starting in your toes, static clouding your mind.

He pulls off, lips glistening with slick. “Say it properly.” He nips your leg in warning. You bite your bottom lip, worrying it between your blunt teeth. Your eyes blur with tears of frustration. You were so close… a finger toys with you pressing in on the edges of your entrance waiting.

“Daddy-please.” Your reward was instantaneous, his fingers thrust in, curling up to mimic the motions his tongue had done just before. He curls over the top of you covering you with his warm body. His lips brush against your temple and mouth to distract you from another finger slipping in alongside his forefinger.

“So good for me, so good, my little human.” Diavolo moans against your mouth before his tongue pushes past your lips once more. You tremble in the cage of his arms, soft mews falling from your open lips while he stretches you. It hurts, just a little sting, but it reminds you just how distant you two have been of late. Gripping onto his arms you struggle to take him. Even with your prince doing his best to distract you from the discomfort you feel it was a lot. He whispers praises into your sweaty skin while he peppers your shoulder with kisses. “Easy love, think you can handle one more.” Gods you were already overwhelmed, but still so greedy for more. You knew what to come would be even more. You nod. Anything to hurry him up.

He rewards you with a hard kiss before slipping in a third finger, his thumb coming up to rub soothing circles into your skin. You cry out in a daze. The rough pads of his fingers catch on your walls pulling strained notes from you with each stroke. He pumps in slow sporadic patterns just skirting over the areas that drive you crazy. He coos to you, singing your praises while his eyes linger on how your body clings to him each time he tries to pull out. But soon the burn disappears altogether and is replaced by the nagging pressure on your shoulders. The position leaning up against his kneeling form begins to agitate your neck and back.

Squirming in his attentive hold you tap his bicep in rapid succession. He stops immediately feeling your sign and pulls away. “Speak to me.” He looks you over. His tone turns soft once more, his domineering demeanor vanishes quickly. “Is this too much?”

Shaking your head you plant the balls of your feet into his shoulders and push him away. He moves away so you lay sprawling out in the cushions. Your body thanks you, popping and groaning as you stretch out. “No, no it’s perfect. I just need to change positions. I’m not as big and strong as you.” You wink. He chuckles sitting back onto your haunches to give you a moment to center yourself. He can only keep his hands to himself for a moment before they are on you again. He rubs up your ankles and knees, messaging any tense muscles he feels until you are melting, your body warming up again to the idea of him on you. “There,” You sigh popping your neck. “Now, where were we, Daddy.” You wrap your legs around his strong waist coming up to your elbows to tug at the waistband of his pants.

Hand around his thick cock you stroke up toying your thumb over his head. Diavolo grunts going rigid at the feel of your wondering fingers. Harsh words in his native tongue fall from his lips. He covers your slowly moving hand with his own to guide you just how he likes. “Gods, I miss this. How long has it been since the last time we have had time to indulge like this?” He watches your hand through half-lidded eyes, the gold of his irises molten.

“Too long.” You agree. You lean back and close your eyes enjoying the feel of him in your hand. “Did you?”

“Basket, left hand side.” He nods at the discarded wicker basket.

You give him an appreciative squeeze and lean over to rummage through the forgotten food. “Thought of everything, huh?”

“I promised to be attentive today, did I not? I always want to treat my little human right.” He twists his hand over yours upping the tempo of your strokes till he is hissing around gritted fangs. “I-was hoping at least.” He breaks his gaze from your joined hands. His cheeks tint pink beneath his dark skin.

You crane your neck up to kiss the strained expression from his face. You feel him vibrating beneath your touch, ready to spring. “Let me prep you?” You ask while reaching for the bottle you placed between your thighs to warm it.

“I don’t need much.” He admits moving away. “You drive me crazy.” He groans hearing you pop the cap and feel the slightly warm drizzle down his cock. Your hand returns with a smoother glide, faster this time. Your other traveling down to squeeze his balls. He gasps, losing control of his steel restraint for a moment to grab your shoulders. He arches into your ministrations groaning in great detail just what he was going to do to you into the cool air of the back garden. His blood is boiling in his veins when he finally pushes your hands away to lay you down.

“How do you want me?” You finally strip your sleep shirt away excitedly.

“Just like this for now.” He growls lifting your leg up and back over his shoulder while he wraps the other around his hip locking it down in his strong grip. “I need to see you.” He squeezes your hip lovingly. “Lay back.” You drop baring yourself fully for his perusal. Your arms spread up and over your head to wrap themselves in the rumpled blankets.

He thanks you with a light kiss to your ankle before lining himself up with your entrance. His breathing grows heavy, deep chuffs emerging again in his excitement. He can taste your eagerness mixing with his in the air. He teases you, playing his head against you, pushing in only enough to breach you before pulling out again. He plays with you like this till your mewling, your blunt little nails leaving tiny crescent shaped indentations in the tawny skin of his arms. The sharp little sting of your nails trying to break through his thick skin along with the feel of your body clenching around him in a futile effort to suck him in is finally enough for him. Setting his hips thrusts forward.

He steals the cry escaping from your mouth with a kiss. The smooth feel of his tongue and teeth pull your senses in twain scrambling your brain as he stretches you open more than his fingers ever could. You should remember the feel of him. After all the times you two have spent together he still takes your breath away.

The stretch was immense as always, your legs shaking in his hold despite your best effort to stay still. Another inch slips in and you yelp. Your hands fly up instinctively out and press against his tense abdomen to halt him. “I-a moment.” You are both shaking for different reasons while you will your body to relax, your muscles squeezing him to the point of discomfort. He waits halfway in and breathes deeply through his nose. Diavolo hunches over you, careful not to jostle you. Resting his head on your shoulder he whispers words of praise to you in languages lost since lost to mortal ears. His lips trace nonsensical patterns into your shoulder and chest. You melt bit by bit into his words and skillful caresses till you are relaxed and pliant.

You nod when ready, your body screaming for a release. His reaction is instantaneous, hips curling to push in with vigor. By the time his hips are flush with yours, you are on the verge again. “Dia, God-” Your words were cut off after a hard thrust from him.

He laughs breathlessly into your shoulder. “God? In my gardens? Such blasphemy…” His claws emerge, the black and gold tips rip into the cushions around you. “You would call for another in my presence? Must I remind you who warms your bed?” You bob your head eagerly, your heart leaping into your throat at the look he gives you.

He starts up again, his rhythm steady and solid, much like the man himself. The sound of skin slapping skin slowly begins filling the space between you. Diavolo is silent as he moves against you, his hands unable to find a permanent place to land. They roam your body, squeezing your hips and ass before traveling up to your pert nipples. His mouth follows his hands licking the valley between your pectorals and lavishing your neck with fresh blemishes the colors of the flowers around you. You love the solid weight on him pinning you to his front, but the tempo was too soft for his words.

“Thought you were going to leave your mark on me? Make sure I never utter another being's name from my lips again.” You pant tugging at his hair sharply pulling a deep grunt from him. “Make me yours Dia- you promised.” Your words did the trick. He grabs your hips once more, nearly folding you in half to sink deeper inside. You howl, the stretch of him pushing your borders brings you closer and closer to that sweet precipice. The devil bearing down on you was just what you needed.

The heat of him on top of you is dizzying, making your headlight and fuzzy. You can feel the small compacted muscles of his abdomen and stomach stretch and twitch with each smooth thrust of his hips into yours. Too soon for his liking, the fire building in his gut began to unravel. “Ah-mia dolcezza. Somo vicino.” The prince grounds out into your heaving chest. While you didn’t understand the words, the raw desperation in them sends a carnal shiver down your spine. You begin to beg, voice high and breathless as his thrusts quicken.

You lock your free leg around his waist while your hands drift down to touch yourself. He slaps your hand away only to replace them with his own strong fingers. His fingers sever the thin tether keeping you from coming and you tip. Dia’s own roar of completion was all but muted white noise in your ear. You gasp looking up blindly through a sweaty curtain of red hair as Dia twitches and spills deep within you. He falls atop of you crushing you into him, but you couldn’t give less of a damn. He was a safe space in this realm. He was your safe space. His purs melting on top of you as you massage his scalp comfortingly. The two of you bask in silence for the moment. “I can’t feel my legs.” You admit finally feeling a tingle starting in your toes and calves.

“In a good way?” His voice is muffled by the pillows by your head. You hum.

“Very- and you?” He chuffs, raising onto shaking arms, and slips out of you. He watches his seed trickle out lazily. He rumbles in pride as your body tries to keep it all inside. Already the smell of his claim was covering your natural clean scent.

“At ease and wonderful.” He flops to his side scooping you up to cradle you against his chest. His arm comes around your middle while his chin rests on the top of your head. Exhausted, you relax in his arms, eyes already too heavy to stay open. Soon he hears your breathing even out becoming deep and steady in your slumber. Diavolo smiles to himself looking out to the creek. He’ll let you rest, for now, already he could feel himself stirring once more his instincts to coat you in his scent pushing him into overdrive. He was far from sated. Hopefully, you felt the same.

[onlydylanobrien]

Coup De Main Magazine Interview: Dylan O'Brien on 'Love and Monsters'.

Dylan O'Brien really, really, really loves dogs. Fondly referring to his adorable co-star as "completely the star" of his new Oscar-nominated film, 'Love and Monsters, O'Brien's face lights up like a Christmas tree when reminiscing about the two Australian Kelpies, Hero and Dodge, who together portray his onscreen best friend, Boy (a.k.a. the best dog in the world).

At the heart of 'Love and Monsters' is this dynamic duo, with O'Brien as Joel Dawson, who in a post-apocalyptic world overrun by giant monsters decides to set off on a dangerous journey to reconnect with his high school sweetheart (played by Jessica Henwick), seven years after the Monsterpocalypse forced all of humanity into hiding underground.

An endearing tale of a wide-eyed boy and his loyal dog, we caught up with Dylan O'Brien to discuss 'Love and Monsters' which was filmed in Queensland, Australia...

COUP DE MAIN: Congrats on the Best Visual Effects Oscars nomination for 'Love and Monsters'! You're in the film, so for the purposes of this interview, I think you can own that.

DYLAN O'BRIEN: Thank you! Oh absolutely, I am nominated. I've been telling everybody: I'm an Oscar nominated actor now.

CDM: You did it!

DYLAN: Thanks! <laughs> It really is amazing.

CDM: It's funny that you filmed this movie back in March to May of 2019, but the whole situation of Joel finding himself separated from Aimee probably feels very familiar to anyone who started a relationship pre-pandemic that doesn't live with their partner.

DYLAN: Yeah, it's really weird. It's really weird how what we ended up going through when this movie was due to come out, how much it related to these themes that we're exploring in this movie. It's a very crazy coincidence.

CDM: Also, the sort of aversion to venturing out again into the outside world, that feels very relatable.

DYLAN: I know. Like when he first comes out of that hatch, he's breathing in the fresh air like it's strange. It's really strange.

CDM: I also thought of the current mask-wearing situation when Clyde says: "You can always tell in their eyes, just look at their eyes." People have had to do a lot of eye-reading this past year?

DYLAN: Right?! Oh, wow wow wow. I hadn't thought about that one.

CDM: One of my favourite things you've ever done is the 'Life Of A Hollywood Actor' video. What do you think the 2021 version of 'Life Of A Hollywood Actor' would look like?

DYLAN: <laughs> Thank you so much, first of all.

CDM: I rewatched it yesterday in preparation for this interview.

DYLAN: No way, thanks! That's really cool. Yeah, I love that character. I want to do something with him. What would the 2021 version be? I think he would definitely be taking the Oscar nom for himself, very seriously - like, the visual effects Oscar nom he would apply as being his, basically, and I think he'd try to bring that up and try to really ride that to get some work. He thinks this is gonna be a big career thing for him, and then he somehow fucks it up by being too overzealous.

CDM: Joel clings on to his memories of Aimee for seven years, replaying them in his mind so he can continue to relive them. Why is it that it's in human nature to mentally retreat into the past for comfort? And to look for a home in other people instead of building a solid home within ourselves?

DYLAN: That's really interesting... I feel like that's something instinctive, especially if you're going through a hard time or especially if something's shifted in your world negatively. I think there's uncertainty about the future and I always find in those situations a common link to wanting to find comfort in the past. I've gone through things, like times like that in my own life, and I've always found that when I've gone through a time like that, there's this level of uncertainty. I think it's human instinct and sort of this instinct to protect ourselves in a way. We're a wild species, aren't we? We're very emotional creatures. I think that's part of what makes humans so special. And instincts like that, to preserve and protect our heart and mind, and to hold on to things like that. And the way we're attached to memories like that and nostalgia. There's a reason these things are a part of our fabric. We're very emotional creatures.

CDM: Do you think that love or fear is a stronger emotion?

DYLAN: Whoah, that's pretty wild. I would say love - only because I feel like it has this sustainable power to endure over time. Whereas fears can be fleeting, and even if it comes quick, it's gone. But then also... yeah, I don't know. <laughs> We're getting deep. Real deep!

CDM: Is love an action or a feeling?

DYLAN: WHOAH. <cracks up>

CDM: I'm putting you on the spot, sorry.

DYLAN: No, no, I'm good! I love it! They're very interesting questions. I'm cracking up at you choosing me to answer these. Fuck. I mean, I think it's a feeling. I believe that, at least. I'm trying to think of ways it could be an action, obviously, but that's not love. I feel like if it's an action, it's something else. There are actions that come from love, but the love, it's a feeling. That's what I believe.

CDM: I always think about how in the TV show, 'Fleabag', The Priest says, "Being a romantic takes a hell of a lot of hope. I think what they mean is, when you find somebody that you love, it feels like hope," which I feel like Joel would also relate to.

DYLAN: Yeah! I love 'Fleabag'.

CDM: It's so good.

DYLAN: It's SO good.

CDM: Clyde says to Joel: "Good instincts are earned by making mistakes." Do you agree or disagree with Clyde's life lesson?

DYLAN: Yeah, I think there's a lot of truth to that, for sure. I think that mistakes absolutely help us grow, in many ways, in terms of instincts and stuff. Yeah, I think that's a wise and sensible perspective to have, especially in an apocalyptic wasteland.

CDM: Do you have any cooking specialities like Joel's talent for minestrone?

DYLAN: Yeah, I've got some go-to's. They're all my mom's, like the things that are nostalgic for me that I grew up with that my mom cooks, like her chicken soup. It's the first thing I do if I go on a job or somewhere where I'm going to be for a little while, just to feel like I'm at home, the first thing I'll do is I'll make a soup and then I'll have it in the fridge for the first week that I'm there. I'll make my mom's chicken soup and it's a really nice comforting sort of a feeling. And chicken cutlets. Two very chicken-y things!

CDM: There's a line I love from the TV show, 'The Good Place', in which one of the characters says: "Sometimes, when you're feeling helpless, the secret is to help someone else. Get out of your own head." I was reminded of it in the scene where Joel is forced to take action against a monster to help save not himself, but his dog. Excluding the life or death element, have you ever felt similarly that it's been easier to help someone else first in order to help yourself?

DYLAN: Yeah, sometimes to a fault. I think that that's something that's been a bit of a learning curve for me, interestingly enough, pretty recently as well in the last year or two, to sort of realise that I need to try to help myself sometimes a little more. I think I have an instinct to help the people that I love and want to be there for them, or even a stranger sometimes, over myself, which can definitely be an interesting quality, but yeah, I think that's helping yourself. Taking care of yourself is extremely important and I think that we all sort of go through our own path of learning the importance of that, and ultimately, too, if you want to be helping others and helping your loved ones, you actually need to be taking care of yourself, first and foremost. Everyone comes to their own kind of realisation over it. It takes time. It takes your 20s, sometimes more.

CDM: Do you miss your dog co-stars Hero and Dodge?

DYLAN: Yes! Yes!! I do. Yeah, I really, really do. And Zelie [Bullen] as well. Their mom and trainer.

CDM: Do you have a dog yourself?

DYLAN: I've got little dogs, yeah. I've got little babies. You?

CDM: I don't sadly, but it's my life goal to adopt a dog one day.

DYLAN: You should. Do you want one? You should get one!

CDM: I'm gonna just tell everyone: Dylan O'Brien told me to get a dog, so I'm getting a dog now.

DYLAN: <laughs> I'm just part of this major life decision for you, forever now.

CDM: Social media can be such a vanity project, but I love that you only have Twitter, and use it mostly just for helping give a platform to important human right issues and sharing your love for Taylor Swift and Harry Styles. What are your favourite Taylor Swift and Harry Styles songs?

DYLAN: Oh my goodness. Like ever? For Harry, from Harry's last album, 'Watermelon Sugar', obviously. I think my my favourite one of his though is... What's it called? I can hear it in my head. They sing it on 'American Idol' all the time.Falling'! That's a huge one for me. T Swift, I mean, it's amazing - give any of the rest of us like six months in quarantine and we look back on it and we're like, 'Shit, I should have done more,' but give Taylor six months in quarantine and she writes fifty hit songs. It's incredible. Off 'Folklore', I think 'Mirrorball' doesn't get enough credit. I'm a big 'Mirrorball' fan. I love 'My Tears Ricochet', and 'Mad Woman', 'Epiphany', 'The 1'.

CDM: Basically the whole album.

DYLAN: Yeah, I really liked that one. There's so many more, but those are my highlights.

CDM: You used to be in a band, Slow Kids At Play, right? Would you ever want to get back into music professionally again?

DYLAN: I still play all the time, and I still play with friends who play as well. Even those guys. They're all still my good friends. We actually had a reunion show in 2019 and it was really cool. We jammed in our friend's garage for our hometown friends. Music will always be a part of my life. I always try to not let it be one of those things that you lose in life. I think that's important to do. If it's not your primary thing, it's sometimes easy to. Often years pile up and then you're like, 'Oh, man, I haven't done this thing that I love in so long, like, I should build that into my routine.' So yeah, I'll always play drums and always jam with friends and play. And yeah, it'd be cool to be in a band again. Maybe someday. Or even just to play a show again, like even just to sit in for someone would be awesome.

CDM: Then maybe you can come to New Zealand on tour.

DYLAN: On tour?! I don't think I'd get to that level, but I like that you have aspirations for me.

CDM: Why is it important to you to use your platform for good?

DYLAN: I think that's influenced by the time that we're in. Also coinciding with a time that I went through in my life and just sort of getting older. And for me, it just feels right in terms of the things that I want to use it for, or try to support, or bring to life, or amplify, or bring a light to, and I guess it's influenced by my own learning and growing and trying to be more involved in this stuff and educate myself on it. It sort of just mirrors that a little bit, and I do think it's important.

CDM: Thank you for your time today. And thanks for telling me to get a dog.

DYLAN: Go do it! Send me a pic when you get them. It was such a pleasure talking to you, thanks so much.

[dimitribelikov]

The Belikov Chronicles: Becoming a Mentor

✶ What if I rewrote different scenes but from Dimitri’s point of view? I have no idea if this is something people are interested in, but this was too fun not to write. Honestly, for all the times Rose is going on about what a god Dimitri is, it’s too amusing to imagine that he’s thinking he’s a total weirdo most of the time. ✶ trigger warnings : some adult language ✶ ship : none but hints of romitri I guess, as well as hints of Dimitri/Ivan ✶ notes : All dialogue is taken straight from Vampire Academy, chapter 2, written by Richelle Mead. The rest is mine.

                                                                   ✶✶✶

       As the double doors opened and we walked into the commons, it seemed as though every set of eyes in the place turned on us. Ok, not much as us as they were on her. Rose Hathaway had been walking by my side, but clearly feeling the effects of scrutiny, she began to lag a little. It was certainly a cruel punishment to walk her though the throng of her peers, like dangling a piece of meat in a lion’s den. Headmistress Kirova had requested it, wanting to teach her and the Princess Vasilisa a bit of humility. Honestly, after the stunt they pulled, I couldn’t help but think a slice of humble pie would do them some good.

But my thoughts weren’t on the effects of a public, teenaged shaming. I was still thinking about the short conversation I’d had with Rose on the plane. Meeting her had exceeded my expectations. When I was tasked with apprehending Janine Hathaway’s daughter, I honestly didn’t know what to expect. Janine was a well respected guardian, one that I’ve had to honor of meeting on more than one occasion. Her work, the stories of her past, continue to inspire me, but if I’m being honest, she also terrifies me. Janine is someone not to be messed with, so naturally her daughter would seemingly follow suit.

From the moment Rose squared off with us, ready to take on a whole team of experienced guardians by herself, I knew she had her mother’s fighting spirit. But when I asked her about it, why she’d do such a thing when she was clearly outnumbered, she answered with such conviction that I couldn’t help but be taken aback. “Because I’m her guardian.” 

She wasn’t of course. Not yet. But while I was supposed to be reprimanding her for such a foolish tactic, I couldn’t help but be impressed. Perhaps I even admired her. It wasn’t too long ago, after all, that I felt the same way about my own charge. I would have stood against armies of Strigoi by myself to defend Ivan, but in the end, not even that was enough.

Finally reaching our destination, I took up my stance in the back of the room, across from Alberta. The captain of the school’s guardians was another person I had admired. I mirrored her stance and unreadable expression, knowing my place. Being reduced to nothing more than furniture was a good chunk of life for a guardian. It wasn’t as bad as it sounded, though. Being ignored and overlooked meant you pick up on all sorts of things. I’ve always been curious about the world around me, so I had learned years ago how to take in every detail while standing as still as a statue. 

The only move I made was when Rose shot up and yelled at the Headmistress in outrage. She was angry, but not threatening to I stayed in my spot, eyes trained on her. She was unruly, stubborn, and very reckless. Damn, I admired her spirit.

“I kept her safe!” she continued to yell. The dark curls of her glossy hair bounced against her back as she shook with anger. I wasn’t going to admit that she was pretty when mad, but... “I kept her safe when none of you could do it. I took her away to protect her. I did what I had to do. You certainly weren’t going to.”

I could feel the concern radiating from Alberta, but I actually had to work to keep a small smile from my face. Sure, the teenaged girl just insulted my own capabilities, but I didn’t take it personally. She had a point. Seeing the way she had thrown herself in front of Vasilisa to protect her from us back in Portland, I had no doubt that Rose truly believed she was protecting her. She needed guidance, though. Proper training. Her brash attitude made her jump to conclusions and solutions were way out of left field.

I ignored the voice in my head that told me how I wasn’t much different with Ivan before he’d died. Sure, I never took him out of school and fled the Moroi authorities, but I’d still concocted some pretty crazy schemes to keep him safe. He was my best friend after all. More than that. Ivan was everything and if there was a threat big enough, I didn’t entirely rule out the possibility that I’d have done exactly what Rose did. His death had sobered me, though. Tamed me from my more headstrong ways.

“You will be sent away as soon as possible.”  It the Headmistress who had spoken. She was talking about Rose, of course. That was the exact opposite of what she needed. Didn’t Headmistress Kirova know who she was dealing with? The daughter of Janine Hathaway had too much potential to be wasted, especially with guardian numbers as abysmal as they were. The verbal sparring match that continued after that was intense. I followed every word between the two, and noted the look of sheer panic in the princess’s eyes. Those two couldn’t live without each other. If Vasilisa was my new charge, I had to keep her best interests a priority. This couldn’t stand. Surely Alberta would have an opinion? But she was remaining rooted the spot. The argument was getting more heated. Shit. I had to do something, to speak up or–

No, no, no, no. Furniture. You’re just a piece of furniture. I internally berated myself, biting my tongue. This doesn’t involve you. Stay out of it. 

“They have a bond,” I said. And just like that, I dragged myself in the middle of something I had no business being in. Fuck it, I decided as all eyes turned on me. I kept my expression neutral as though my speaking was fueled by perfectly rational thoughts. I always hated being in the spotlight, so rather than deal with the whole room, I stared solely at Rose. There was something comforting about her, as though if anyone in the room could understand me, it was her. “Rose knows what Vasilisa is feeling. Don’t you Rose?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the headmistress look entirely startled by the claim. “No... that’s impossible. That hasn’t happened for centuries.”

Her doubt only encouraged me to continue as I felt a better handle over the situation. “It’s obvious,” I said. “I suspected it as soon as I started watching them.” My eyes were still locked on Rose’s. She was defiant and strong, and I couldn’t help but feel my own strength bolstered by her presence. Perhaps I was starting to come off as a creep, though, because she quickly looked away from me as Prince Victor gave this theory praise. 

Turning my gaze onto Kirova, I continued. “The best guardians always had that bond. In the stories.” I added the last part, hoping that I didn’t somehow sound like a total loon. I technically wasn’t supposed to be talking at all, yet here I was, spouting of old myths straight from fairytales. But every word I said was the truth. I had seen it, and it was something that couldn’t be ignored.

“Stories that are centuries old! Surely you aren’t suggesting we let her stay at the Academy after everything she’s done?” Kirova countered.

I guess I am just a loon, after all. With nothing more to lose, I shrugged. “She might be wild and disrespectful but if she has potential–”

“Wild and disrespectful? Who the hell are you anyway? Outsourced help?” It was Rose who had interrupted and I wish I had a way to tell her to shut up. Couldn’t she see that I was the only one actually standing up for her? I suddenly thought of a few more adjectives to add to “wild and disrespectful”.

“Guardian Belikov is the princess’s guardian now. Her sanctioned guardian,” Kirova corrected. I know I wasn’t supposed to be on her side, but I couldn’t help but feel a bit triumphant.

That feeling fell immediately with Rose’s next words. “You got cheap foreign labor to protect Lissa?” Thank God I had mastered an unreadable expression, because if I could have thrown daggers at the novice, I would have. She knew nothing about me, and I couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt by the statement.

Kirova threw her hands up as though her point had just been made. “You see?” she said, directed at me. “Completely undisciplined! All the psychic bonds and very raw potential in the world can’t make up for that. A guardian without discipline is worse than no guardian.”

I couldn’t disagree, which brought me back to my original point. Pushing my irritation over the insult aside, I knew I had to stand up for the guardian Rose could be. “So teach her discipline. Classes just started. Put her back in and get her training again.” Honestly, wasn’t that the whole point of school? If being undisciplined got students kicked out, there wouldn’t be any left.

“Impossible. She’ll still be hopelessly behind her peers.”

“No I won’t,” Rose finally spoke up. If she was standing up for herself in a rational manner, then surely we could sway Kirova to let her stay at the Academy by Vasilisa’s side.

“Then give her extra training sessions,” I quickly added, feeling victory within our reach. And just like that, the negotiation started. It was the first real hope I felt in this battle. We continued for a while and I could feel Alberta’s eyes on me the whole time. Surely there would be words when we were back in the guardian’s headquarters.

“Who’s going to put in the extra time?” Kirova sounded tired of the conversation and I knew I had my foothold. She was ready to accept, she just needed the logistics of it all hammered out. Just as I was feeling triumphant again, the rug was once again pulled out. “You?”

I froze. Me? Train Janine Hathaway’s daughter one on one? The princess needed her and I could respect that, but Rose was quickly becoming a thorn in my side with her harsh comments. The two of us alone together in a sparring ring would surely end in blood being drawing. “Well, that’s not what I–” I trailed off, feeling like a total idiot. I didn’t think this through at all.

“Yes. That’s what I thought.” Shit. Just like that, Kirova won.

My eyes fell on the two girls, and when I looked between them I saw... Ivan and me. For the hundredth time that day, my mind came back to my old friend. I loved him more than I could put into words. I would have died for him, but instead, it was the other way around. One day off, one day away from him, and disaster of the worst degree had struck. I could imagine with painful clarity how Rose would feel if anything were to happen to Vasilisa while she was sent away. Of course, I would make sure to never again lose a Moroi on my watch. No more day-off’s for me. But if Rose had no choice...

“Yes. I can mentor Rose.” I almost didn’t recognize my own voice as I spoke. The moment the words left my mouth, though, I knew I didn’t regret them. I made a vow, and Vasilisa was now in my care. I couldn’t hurt her chances by taking away someone she was bonded with. And Rose... Rose deserved a fighting chance. “I’ll give her extra sessions along with her normal ones.”

We agreed that Rose should still be punished for her actions in addition to the extra training. With words of encouragement from Victor and Vasilisa herself, Kirova finally caved. Yet I’d hardly call it a victory. I’d just traded in practically all my free time to train a wild and disrespectful girl. She was my responsibility now and as I held her gaze again, I had a feeling I had my work cut out for me.

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Motion Sickness Chapter 196

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“You’re also dating Miss Rose?” Glynda asked. “Aren’t you a lucky man.”

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me. Am I? With everything you know about me?"

"Well…" she didn't have a ready retort.

"Anyway, there just isn’t room in the dorm for everyone. I’ll be buying a house out at Patch and flying in to commute everyday.”

“Is your Mover rating that high?”

“Yeah. It is. And Ruby and Weiss both want kids and there’s no way that will fly in the dorms here.”

“So you’re keeping this job?”

“Looks like it. Ruby and Weiss both want me to so I don’t really have a choice.”

“It does have benefits.”

“They like how safe it is for me. Compared to the sort of work I could be doing it’s really incredibly safe. And the pay is good enough to raise our family, coupled with our savings.”

“But Ruby Rose needs a place to stay while you house shop?”

“An extra dorm, maybe? If one is free. I don’t want to impose and I can make other arrangements if I have to. I’d like her and Weiss to be close though while we shop and plan our wedding.”

“You’re engaged to them?”

“Only recently.”

“You didn’t mention any of this whenever I brought up team RWBY,” Glynda smirked.

“I… tend to keep that sort of thing private. It’s not something I run around bragging about.”

“But you probably could.”

“Look… I could also rip a person in half. Probably shouldn’t do that. Or brag about that just because I can. Probably shouldn’t brag about my relationships either.”

“Those are the same thing to you?”

“Well, they’re both something I probably shouldn’t do. Occasionally the situation merits it. I have two fiancés. That’s pretty slick. They’re both beautiful girls who want my children. They like me more than I like me. That’s nuts.”

Glynda laughed at me. “You poor, poor man. How will you survive a dual pregnancy?”

“Maybe keep my dorm open here…”

“No. You have to pay the piper,” she laughed some more. “I’m glad you have this. I was worried when you told me about your experiences that you had no good things tethering you to this world. I’m glad that isn’t the case. You lost so much. It’s good that you have some bright lights in your life to keep you strong and happy. It’s far too easy to give into despair without something like that. It did weigh on my mind. What would I really do to stop you if the worst should pass? But you have these other hooks pulling you to the world besides your work. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you…” I trailed off. “I hope we never have to answer the question of stopping me. I hope it never comes to that. But I’m glad that you were preparing yourself. It makes me feel a little safer. That’s one of the perks of this job really. You. You probably stand the best chance of getting in my way.”

“But you don’t think I could stop you.”

“Maybe that will change. But no, I don’t think you can. That scares me.”

“I’ll get you the keys to another dorm next to yours. Best of luck with the house shopping and wedding.”

“Thanks.”

“Miss Rose’s presence won’t impede your work, will it?”

“I don’t think so. Our attempts to find a good antipsychotic are more likely to disrupt my work than Ruby is.”

“But that’s important and you should do it.”

“Yeah. It’s important and I really need to do it. But it’s hard. Have you ever been on that sort of medication?”

“No, not me. I was a little depressed after Beacon fell but not so much that I required medication.”

“Yeah. It’s difficult to describe exactly what those meds are like. They change you. They change the way you think and function. Every aspect of your life just becomes slightly twisted and wrong. The way you remember stuff and feel emotions and think in general just becomes slightly off. And that’s the goal. To find the right twist of yourself that causes you to be more stable. But it’s a fumbling and blind watchmaker. They have your genetics which can show them which meds might work. But you still have to try them and that takes months. It seriously takes a long time to go up on a given med, see if it works, and go back down. And your goal is just to survive and get through the day while that happens.”

“Well, nobody has reported any problems with your teaching ever since you started a new batch. So I don’t see that as a problem. I wish you the best of luck in finding the right medication combination.”

“Thank you again.”

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“You got an extra dorm room?” Ruby asked. “Who is going to want to sleep there? The other two will be snuggling up in this dorm and one other person will be left out in the cold.”

“He obviously planned for himself to be the odd one out,” Weiss interpreted.

“What?”

“Come on. He meant for us to be together and for himself to be out in the cold.”

“That’s so like him. I want to pull my hair out.”

“It’s temporary,” I cut in. “Just while you guys find a house you like out in Patch.”

“So it’s true. You meant for you to be the one out,” Ruby glowered.

“Temporarily,” I reminded. “Come on. There just isn’t room here.”

“I don’t like it,” Ruby said.

“Neither do I,” Weiss agreed.

“Then find a house you like fast and buy all the furnishing you want.”

“What’s our budget look like for that?” Ruby asked.

“Something in the ballpark of two point five million,” Weiss informed her. “That leaves plenty for the honeymoon and wedding and a decent amount of savings. Jaune’s making something like two hundred thousand a year here.”

“Well that should be fine then. We’ll have our pick of houses. We can even build one.”

“If you want to wait that long,” Weiss interjected.

“Oh. That’s true. Jaune will insist on being out in the cold that whole time. He’s such a goofball.”

“I’m right here,” I pointed out.

“Ah? So you are,” Weiss observed. “But for how long?”

“Um…” I trailed. I looked between them.

“You dumb blonde.”

“What am I going to do? Kick one of you two out?”

“We could alternate,” Weiss proposed.

“Don’t be ridiculous. If I can’t alternate spooning you two, you have to see why I have to be the one out in the other dorm. That’s life as a guy. I just have to hold that ‘l’.”

“Goofball.”

“But I’m not wrong, am I? I have to be the one out because the alternative is one of you being the one out and that just won’t fly.”

“And why not?” Weiss pressed.

“You know why not. I can’t kick one of my ladies out into the cold. That’s not okay with me. I’m very much not alright with it. And you wouldn’t have me any other way. That’s just the way it goes. You girls get to be warm and cuddled up and I need to find a way to deal with it.”

“That’s not fair,” Ruby disagreed.

“That’s my job,” I fired right back. “I always automatically get the short straw. That’s the price I have to pay for being engaged to two fantastic girls. You two need to accept that. That’s about as fair as it gets.”

“Ugh. You make me want to hit you,” Weiss decided. “But you like it when I hit you.”

“You’re such a darling. Especially when you hit me. It’s like, wow- how can I even cope without you hitting me in that way you do? Hit me some more, Weiss. Just go to town on me. I can take it.”

“It means I’m mad at you and I want you to stop.”

“Sometimes. Sometimes it means ‘that was clever but I know what you did.’”

“We’ll have to find a house fast then. And set a date for the wedding. And Jaune and I need to get an engagement present for Weiss and Weiss and I need to get something for Jaune. Oh no, we need to get something for Jaune. What do we do, Weiss?”

“I was hoping you would have ideas…”

“He is hard to get things for because he’ll love it no matter what. What are we going to do?”

“Just get me any old thing and I’ll be happy that I’m being thought of at all?” I suggested.

“Shut up, Jaune. This is serious,” Ruby informed me gravely. “No matter what we do he’s going to treasure it.”

“That’s what I thought about you but we managed to pick something out. None of us like material things like jewelry,” Weiss pointed out. “But yes, he’s going to be impossible to shop for.”

“I’m literally so easy. Just get two rings each of which has your name or signature on it and call it good.”

“Ugh,” Ruby managed. “He’s awful.”

“He’s the worst,” Weiss agreed.

“And yet you two are marrying him. Me. Marrying me. Fucking wild.”

“Language,” Weiss chidded.

“Butt,” Ruby reminded. She thumbed her new necklace. She popped the little latch open and closed as she worried it. It clicked and clacked minutely. “Well I don’t know. I have no ideas about what to get for him. This is going to take some serious brain storming. And it can’t be his ring idea because that will just gratify him.”

“He’s seriously horrendous about it. Could you imagine if we actually have to resort to that idea?”

Ruby shuddered.

“What’s wrong with the ring idea?” I asked. “I’d love it.”

“You suggested it. That’s what’s wrong with it,” Ruby pointed at me with venom. “We can’t use it for sure now.”

“She’s right. We can’t. It could have worked but because you came up with it, it just won’t fly,” Weiss agreed.

“I don’t get it. Is this just one of those girl things?”

“No.”

“Kinda,” Ruby informed me.

Weiss sighed. “We can’t let you win.”

“So it’s a game?”

“No,” Ruby informed me.

“A little,” Weiss said. But somehow they seemed in total agreement.

“This is super serious,” Ruby told me. “We have to make sure our idea is original and good.”

“But we can’t take your word because no matter what we get you, you will say you like it. And we can’t take any idea that comes from you because it has to come from us. So it’s kind of a game but it’s a fun and serious game. And you keep entrapping us more and more.”

“So if I come up with more suggestions-”

“Don’t you dare,” Weiss warned.

“Got it,” I said but I didn’t really at all. “I was just trying to make your lives easier.”

“We know. But that makes our job all the more difficult,” Ruby said. “You’d do anything to make our lives easier. You’d love a crummy gift and cherish it forever. So we have no way of knowing if our idea is any good.”

“And you coming up with suggestions just limits the things we can actually do because we have to be the ones to come up with it without your help. It’s honestly a little like why you think you always deserve the short straw. It comes from a gentlemanly place but it’s frustrating to deal with and we can’t even really be mad at you for it because it’s gentlemanly. Do you see?”

“A little better now. I’ll send you guys a list of suggestions.”

“Don’t!” Weiss ordered.

“No!” Ruby begged.

“I don’t know. I sort of like this strange power I have over you.”

“I’ll give you head if you don’t,” Ruby bargained.

“You’d do that anyway. You’re such a bottom. You do whatever I tell you in the bedroom.”

“Maybe I’ll take charge and be in control for once,” Ruby threatened. But she was threatening me with a good time.

“Sure. Yeah. Go ahead,” I agreed. “Whenever you want, sweetheart.”

Ruby’s gaze wavered then fell. “You butt.”

“Don’t bully Ruby. And don’t come up with any more suggestions. You basically eliminated our ability to choose rings as a gift at all,” Weiss informed me. “Just like that. In one fell swoop you demolished so many possibilities. Don’t make our lives any harder by trying to make our job any easier.”

“So if I just started listing jewelry items you would be screwed.”

“Seriously do not. I’ll give you head,” Weiss somehow made that sound threatening. “We’ll both give you head.”

“That would seriously be a good enough engagement gift,” I told them both. “Like honestly I don’t want anything and time spent with you would be priceless. Weiss could sing for me and I would be like, ‘this is enough.’ Ruby could look at me with those eyes and it would be a job done for you guys. I really don’t want anything more than what I already have.”

“We know that too!”

“That’s why you’re so hard to get a gift for,” Weiss explained. “No matter what we do it will be ‘good enough,’ and you know what? Maybe we want to do better than 'good enough.' But we have no way of knowing if it really is better than ‘good enough’ because you belong to us so completely that all you really want is a tandem blowjob or the sound of my voice or Ruby’s gorgeous eyes. We want it to be more special than that. We want it to be something you carry around and always feel to remind you of us. A blowjob just isn’t it. Or Ruby looking at you. Or listening to me sing just won’t cut it.”

“I think that depends on the blowjob. And therapy costs money but listening to you sing is priceless.”

“Aw.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere. Don’t ‘aw’ that, Ruby. That’s how he gets you. He’s just trying to flatter me.”

“Yeah. I am,” I agreed. “And you can’t take that away from me. Because you’re my darling and I want to flatter you. I would be honored if you were flattered by me. It would be my special, privileged pleasure.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Weiss decided.

“It’s shameless how you flirt with me,” I swooned. “Insult me. Hit me. Abuse me. It only shows that you care.”

“I can’t win with you,” Weiss decreed. “No matter what I do you get to walk away from this the victor. I can’t reward you. I can’t punish you. There’s nothing to be done because you take it all in stride.”

“You could come give me a hug,” I suggested. “Let me scoop you up in my arms and kiss your neck.”

“I bet you would like that wouldn’t you. I bet you would just love that.”

“Yeah. I would. I really would. And so would you. Don’t rebel against your desires, Weiss. Would it really be so awful to get swept up into my arms and kissed around the ears.”

“You plague me. Just because I told you not to bully Ruby, you harass me instead.”

“But you’re so adorable when I trap you. It’s like when Ruby blushes. I want it so bad. It ought to be criminal how you enslave me. But no, you walk around as a totally free woman to tease and taunt and make me into a dog. That’s what is really not fair.”

“You give me that power over you. Of your own free will.”

“You give me this power over you. You could deny me. You could deny me and shoe me off. But you don’t. You like it.”

Weiss’s cheeks turned rosy and she looked at Ruby for assistance.

“What? I would also like to kiss your neck. I’d like to watch him eat you for lunch. Don’t expect me to bail you out. Tell us, Weiss.”

Weiss sighed resignedly.

“Look how red she got around her ears,” I pointed out to Ruby.

“Careful. You’ll melt her, Jaune,” Ruby agreed.

“I told him not to bully you and this is how you repay me? You’re supposed to have my back,” Weiss demanded.

“I do have your back. Just not how you want me to.”

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

-WG

[btsiguess]

Self Indulgence (m) - Oneshot

Summary: Professor Yoonji can’t help but notice that the teacher’s pet is looking quite attractive today...

Pairing: Yoonji/Reader

Genre: PWP. JUST SMUT.

Word Count: 2905

Warnings: PROFESSOR YOONJI.....uhhh professor/student relationship which is soooo inappropriate even if it’s lowkey hot... ahhh. Choking, sweet sweet lesbian action

A/Ns: I’m so sorry guys. I’m actually druNK right now. Like so drunk i couldn’t even give it a read through at the end........so please forgive......... everything....

“It’s weird that you want to fuck the teacher.” Seungmin says, eyeing the way your stare follows professor Min around the classroom. 

She knows you’re absolutely not paying attention to the class lecture. The way your hand doodles crudely drawn vaginas on the page in front of you does enough to illustrate that. You’re not quite sure why it was vaginas today. Maybe something about wanting to shove your face in one had something to do with it?

“And what do you all think?” Your ears perk up at your professors words. Dr. Min Yoonji, standing at the front of the class, asking for your attention even though she can tell all of you are bored. “What do you think about cultural hybridization? Is it a reality or simply a connotatively positive term for American imperialism?” You sigh happily at her words. She looked so good when she was speaking dense academic language. You press your thighs together. 

Professor Min was probably somewhere in her mid-forties. Although it was near impossible to tell since she dressed so hip. You had an inkling that she might be queer as well, but nothing definitive. Perhaps that’s why you were drawing pussys on your class notes… hoping she just might see it and know. 

“I think it’s absolutely different! Hybridization is all about globalization.” Juahn says. Of course he does. He was such a fucking brown noser. He had his head so far up Min’s ass, even you didn’t want to stick your tongue there. And that was impressive, because you’d take what you could get. He was wrong too. Just speaking so that Min would look at him. God you hated that stupid fucker. Sometimes he sent professor Min articles. You’re not saying that it was necessarily bad to engage with your teacher on the class work, but you knew that it was because he was vying for her attention. Attention that should have gone to you. And you thought it was disrespectful anyway, since she treated her as if he knew more than her. Like she didn’t have an entire PhD in the fucking field. What a cuck. 

Your sneer doesn’t go unnoticed by Professor Min, who singles you out immediately. 

“Oh? Y/N. Do you disagree? Speak your mind.” It wasn’t unusual that she call on you. The class was relatively quiet when it came to class discussions, apart from you and Juahn. Still your heart fluttered at the attention. 

“I just think it’s hard to say whether it’s either or. It depends how much each culture has influenced the specific, like, new culture. I’m not sure if it’s quantifiable?” Your professor hums at your words and you watch Junahn’s back straighten slightly in aggravation. It was no secret the two of you didn’t like one another. And you had the text message arguments to prove it. You weren’t even quiet of your distaste for the boy in the class and the professor seemed to know it and thrive off of it. Was it hot? Absolutely. 

“Right, well,” Dr. Min says, cutting the conversation short, “that’s all the time we have for today, unfortunately.” The class sighs in relief. “Make sure to do the readings. And Y/N? If you could stay after class. Thank you.” 

Seungmin shoots you a look as a slight flush of red colors your cheeks. It’s a look that says “don’t be excited our teacher wants you to stay after. That probably means you’re in trouble.” ... At least. That’s what you imagine the look would say, if looks could talk. 

You make your way to the front of the room, standing quietly as your professor wipes the board. Once the classroom is completely empty, she turns to you again. 

“Perhaps if you were more focused on class instead of drawing female genitalia in your notebook, you might’ve done better on the midterm.” She says simply. Your mouth drops open. You had done well on the midterm! You’d gotten a 37/40. A 92%. 7 points above the class average. 

“You did well,” Min continues, “but you weren’t the highest grade in the class. You were second. Behind Juahn.” Your blood boils and she smirks—full on smirks—at you. 

“I thought that would get your attention.” She said. “Just understand. I like pussy too, but class isn’t the time to be thinking about it so thoroughly.” You bite your lip as your cheeks color red with embarrassment and slight arousal at the way Min Yoonji’s mouth had curled delicately around the word pussy. 

There’s a slight pause in the conversation as Yoonji lets her eyes watch the way you worry your lip between your teeth. So cute. In Yoonji’s youth, you were exactly her type. Shy, nervous, … totally devoted. If Yoonji had been any younger she would’ve had you already; had your body arching underneath her, your pussy clenching around her tongue and fingers. She knows you have a little schoolgirl crush on her. How could she not know? You practically wrote it across her forehead. She had an inkling during the first semester you had class with her. You had even titled your final essay “Every time I read Kipling I remember why I’m gay” just to get her attention. And get her attention it did… 

Originally, she had done her best to ignore it. You were her student, after all. But Yoonji had always been a bit reckless. It’s that fact that leads her to ask you the worst possible question she could have. 

“Why pussy? Were you thinking about someone eating yours? Or you eating someone else’s?” 

The older women can’t help but smile as your face goes bright red. Yoonji imagined that while you had been hoping desperately to get her attention, you’d never actually thought you’d have it. 

“P-Professor, I’m sorry about not paying attention! It won't happen again!” You turn to flee from the room, but Yoonji catches you gently by the elbow. 

“It’s alright, Y/N. You’re not in trouble. And you didn’t answer my question.” Yoonji isn’t proud of herself for succumbing to your coy temptation. She feels altogether too much like all the skeezy old men that used to solicit her. But she also knows she’d treat you better than all of them. Teach you more than all of them. 

Yoonji should’ve realized that you would be a problem from the very first month, when she had wound up checking the school’s database for your age. You were nearly 23, almost graduated, but that meant little. You were well past too young for her, and she knew it. 

But Yoonji knew she was past waiting. She couldn’t help that she wanted you. She didn’t want to deny herself, either. Yoonji wasn’t a good person, and she didn’t pretend to be. 

“Both, Professor.” You finally say. And Yoonji’s eyes follow the way in which your thighs squeeze together. 

“You know,” Yoonji says, and you try your best to focus on her voice, despite how distracted you are by the thought of her going down on you. “I know you have a little bit of a crush on me.” 

You wish the ground would swallow you whole. 

“Don’t look so embarrassed.” Your Professor scoffs. “I like the idea. Much more than I should. And I think you’ve teased me for far too long, hmm? Why don’t you hop up on that desk there. Be a good girl for me.” You scramble to follow her instructions. Knowing that it’s wrong and not caring in the slightest. 

Yoonji wastes no time pushing your knees apart so that your skirt rides up your knees and reveals your underwear. 

“You’re wet already, I can see it.” She teases. “Is it just from my voice? Do you sit in class all wet like this for me every day?” Her thumb begins to delicately trace over the wet patch on your underwear. Making your hips twitch in desire. You must be dreaming. You must be. 

Yoonji slides her fingers past your panties, and finds your clit with practiced ease. 

“Ahh,” she sighs. “You’re so delicate. So perfect…” She shuffles in between your knees, getting close enough to brush your nose with her own. 

Her thumb, moving in easy circles, is driving you mad. You’re helpless in her arms, whimpering quietly as the woman you’ve been lusting after for the greater part of two semesters begins tracing softly up and down your core. 

You lament briefly the loss of stimulation on your clit, but bite your lip hard at the feeling of your professor’s teasing. With each slow pass of her fingers, her index finger catches against your swollen nub, making you shake with want. 

Something about the way that her ministrations are altogether too light to actually get you to cum makes you crazy. You can’t help but let your mind run wild. You were putty in Yoonji’s hands, completely at her whim. She could keep you here for hours. Just slowly tracing you up and down, watching you pant and sweat, desperately wanting to cum but being unable to. 

“Do you like this, Y/N? I’m hardly giving you anything at all…” She tuts quietly. “No one’s ever treated you right before have they?” 

“P-Professor--” You try to respond but suddenly the girl in question presses two fingers inside of you, the stretch making your head fall back and your hands grasp at Yoonji’s wrist. 

“Can you hear yourself, sweetheart?” Yoonji says, pressing her mouth against the exposed column of your neck. “Can you hear how wet you are? All for me, right?” The squelching of your sex turns the both of you on. You because it’s finally happening, and her because… well, of course she likes the sound of you aroused for her. 

You nod, your breath hitching as she sinks her teeth into your skin. 

Yoonji works her fingers hard within you. Curling to find the spot that has you writhing against her. 

Yoonji knows what she is doing. You’ve clearly never had a good fuck from anyone before, and Yoonji is a bit smug over the way she’s worked you up so easily. She’d never fucked someone so young before. And she had definitely never fucked one of her students. But somehow, she didn’t feel as guilty as she should, too would up in the way you were biting your lip to keep from moaning out loud at the pleasure she was giving you. 

“P-Professor,” You groaned, wanting to say something more, but not having the strength to. 

Yoonji was surprised at how malleable you had become at the touch of her fingers. She felt herself start to get wet at the feel of you around her fingers, feeling the tight clenching which signified your earnest participation in the illicit acts she had finally succumbed to. God, she couldn’t decide whether she should stop, or whether she was mad at herself for not having done this earlier. 

Yoonji decides it’s definitely the latter as you pussy clenches around her fingers, and a small moan presses its way through your lips. 

Yoonji had never been the one to play favorites. She almost always didn’t have preferences among her students. Usually in her courses everyone was so quiet. But you and Juahn had been so vocal. Juahn had frustrated her, putting his nose in business he didn’t belong in, trying to weasel his way into a good grade despite the fact that it took almost nothing to get a passing grade in the course--Yoonji hardly cared, good grades reflected kindly on herself. But you? You seemed to go to bat against the stubborn boy for no reason other than to protect Yoonji’s honor. 

It was absolutely unnecessary, but still made Yoonji smile to herself every time. She didn’t need anyone’s help, but she liked the way you blushed when she called on you. And even more so she was charmed by the fact that you always had something to say, even when you didn’t volunteer for fear of seeming like the teacher’s pet. 

But as Yoonji curled her fingers inside of you, wrenching a moan from your plump lips, she couldn’t help but admire the way this particular teacher’s pet seemed so eager for her good graces.

“Professor,” you gasp with as much brain power you could muster. “Professor, I wanna make you feel good too!” yoonji laughs quietly. She isn’t surprised by your eagerness to please, in fact, she relishes in it. 

“Oh yeah?” Yoonji says, withdrawing her fingers from your heat, drawing a slight whimper from you. “Then get on the floor baby, tongue out.”

You follow her instructions as quickly as you can, and Yoonji wastes no time in shuffling her dress up, just a bit, so she’ll be able to see your pretty eyes as she cums on your tongue.

You look desperate and hopelessly infatuated as Yoonji shimmies her underwear down her legs, and positions herself above you. 

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” She says, watching you melt under her pet name. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been ready.” You reply, softly wiggling your tongue at her. 

“Have you done this before?” Yoonji questions, tilting her head to the side. 

You shake your head in denial, but the challenge in your eyes shows Yoonji that you couldn’t be more than ready to learn now. 

Yoonji grasps the back of your head and pulls you into her pussy, sighing in relief as your tongue slides along her core. You’re sloppy and messy as you begin to eat her out, but for some reason Yoonji can’t help the shiver that runs along her spine at the unrefined way your tongue caresses her. 

“You’re perfect, baby,” Yoonji sighs, beginning to rock her core against your face. “Can you put your tongue inside of me?” She asks, and you follow her instructions to the letter, just like you always do. 

Yoonji rocks her hips against your face over and over again, allowing your tongue to pierce the deepest part of her. God, she should have been doing this all semester. Even professors need to release built up tension. 

You’re moaning against her folds, as if there is truly no place you would rather be than lapping up the nectar between Yoonji’s thighs, and the thought makes Yoonji gush even more. There’s something so hot about the way you gasp and pant against her pussy, as if there was nowhere else you could imagine being. As if you were all Yoonji’s, ripe for the taking. 

Yoonji is getting close, but as much as she’d love to make you drink her cum, she’s absolutely desperate to see you come apart beneath her.

“Stop.” She orders, and you do, just like a good little slut, looking up at her with those big doe eyes, questioning her. 

“Lay on the floor.��� Yoonji demands, and while you seem confused, you follow her directions regardless. 

Yoonji positions herself above you, her legs slotted between your own in order to align your sexes. Then she presses herself down into you, eliciting a sigh from your reddened mouth. It elapses into a groan as Yoonji starts rocking against you. Dragging her pussy against yours just right, so your clits bump against one another over and over again. The two of you are blinded by lust, neither of you can think of anything but the way you feel against one another. The messy wetness dripping down your thighs and onto the classroom floor beneath you. 

You both know you ought to feel guilty for the travesty you are committing. But it’s impossible as you feel the sparks run up your spine repeatedly. God, why hadn’t you both done this sooner? 

Both of you can feel the pressure building. Mounting as it takes over each of your entire bodies. 

Yoonji won’t let you get off that easy though, and so she presses her hand over your throat, cutting off your air supply and you twitch and shake beneath her. 

“Are you gonna cum, my pretty baby?” Yoonji asks you, rocking her hips faster and faster, almost impossibly fast, against your own. “Are you gonna make your professor’s pussy all wet and dirty? Little slut.” She smirks as your eyes seem to roll back in your head, waves of pleasure washing over you one after the other, over and over, until Yoonji releases your throat to hunch over you, her own orgasm rushing in fiercely, allowing your juices to mix and pulse together into one sinful, noticeable puddle on the floor beneath you. 

You’re both panting hard, huddled together, drenched in sweat and cum, when Yoonji takes your face in her hands and kisses you. 

It’s a light kiss, so different from the aggressive way she just fucked you. And as you pant together, you feel the older woman’s body mold into your own. 

“You’ve always been my favorite student you know.” Yoonji whispers to you. “You don’t have to compete with anyone. It’s always been you.” 

You sigh and kiss her again. 

“I love you, professor.” You sigh, not realizing what you’re saying. 

She laughs quietly.

“Maybe we can go to dinner together, sometime after finals.” Yoonji mutters, and you nod. “I mean, finals are only two weeks away. You can last that long without me making you cum, can’t you?” 

You nod shakily. “I can at least try, professor.”

“Alright my darling,” Yoonji responds. “Alright.”

*******

A/N: Again, I am soooo sorry. this is just weird pent up attraction i have to this one professor coming out all over the page ughhiuhjbfsldf bdbfkjedsfncjksdmfn. Tag yourself, I’m the essay title being copy and pasted from an actual essay i turned in to this woman because i was so helplessly into her. FUCK

[bestillmyslashyheart]

Malex Week Day 4: Free Day

+1

Michael was on the couch huddled under Alex’s favorite fleece blanket when Alex walked in the door. They hadn’t had plans and Alex technically wasn’t expecting to see Michael tonight but he wasn’t upset to find him making himself at home in Alex’s house.

“Hey,” Michael greeted. He turned his face up as Alex walked past to the bedroom and Alex obligingly stopped and kissed him hello.

“Hey,” he greeted warmly. He heard the TV unpause as he changed but he paid it no mind. Michael had a varied taste in movies and TV shows that Alex didn’t always agree with but it never bothered him to sit and watch with him. Especially after a day like the one he’d had. 

No, after today, curling up under a blanket with Michael was exactly what he needed. 

Alex took his prosthetic and uniform off before taking a quick shower and changing into sweats. Michael paused the TV again as he came out of the room and a quick glance at the screen gave Alex no hints as to what he was watching. 

“You want something to eat?” Michael asked just as Alex was dropping onto the couch next to him.

“Mm. Maybe later.” Alex untucked one end of the blanket from around Michael and shuffled so they were pressed together, the blanket over both of them. Michael looked over at him, amusement on his face. This time it was Alex who turned his face up for a kiss and Michael who willingly obliged. “So. What are we watching?” Michael didn’t answer. When Alex looked at him, he saw a flush creeping up the back of his neck. “What is it?”

Instead of saying anything, Michael clicked play. A moment later, Alex’s “is that Reese Witherspoon?” had him pausing it again. Alex turned on him. “Are you watching a romcom?”

Michael squirmed. “Maybe?”

Alex looked at the screen. He didn’t recognize anything else about the movie but he wasn’t exactly an expert in the actress’ filmography. “Huh, okay.” He waved at the remote. “Play on.”

Michael sagged in apparent relief. 

“Wait,” Alex said, with Michael’s finger perched over the button. “You know I don’t care if you like romcoms, right? I’m just surprised.”

“Yeah, I know,” Michael replied. “It’s not usually my thing but it was on so I figured why not.”

Alex nodded. “Good a reason as any. What’s it called?”

“Sweet Home Alabama.”

One.

“Okay, okay, okay!” Rosa yelled. She spread her hands wide across the table. “It is my birthday and I can finally, according to whichever calendar you prefer to use, drink legally. However! We all know that’s a bad idea. So. I am nominating all of you to drink for me.”

“Isn’t that why we’re here?” Michael smirked.

Rosa balled up a wet napkin and threw it at him. “21 shots. Tonight. Figure out how without killing yourselves.”

Alex raised his eyebrows. “That’s a lot, Rosa.”

“I’ll be counting.”

“Rosa,” Liz cautioned. “We love you and we are happy to celebrate with you but I’d really like it if we didn’t end up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning tonight.”

“Well someone should since I can’t.”

“Alright, pod squad, with me,” Isobel decided. “We’re splitting it up. 7 each.”

“Hey no-” Rosa protested.

Isobel stared her down. “You said to figure out how. We’re sharing. Deal.”

“Hmph, fine.”

Liz immediately grabbed Alex and Maria. “We’re sharing!” She looked around and grabbed Kyle’s arm. “Him too.”

Everyone laughed and Maria started divvying up the shots. Rosa watched as they all tossed them back, urging them on when they took too long for her liking. After that, Alex sort of lost the plot a bit. All he knew was that Michael was warm and his arm was comfortably heavy around Alex’s back. 

Michael and Maria got into a friendly argument at one point, something about one of them being an idiot? Alex wasn’t really paying attention, if he was being honest.

Then suddenly Michael said, “Honey, just because I talk slow, doesn’t mean I’m stupid.” 

Alex blinked and looked over at him in surprise. First, because Michael had never called anyone ‘honey’ in his life and now was an odd time to start giving Maria pet names. Second, because the words sounded awfully familiar. 

Maria immediately started protesting the pet name, loudly and repeatedly, but Michael ignored her in favor of turning to Alex with a shit eating grin and a wink. Alex blinked, confused, before it hit him.

He groaned and dropped his head onto Michael’s shoulder. “You’re quoting the damn movie now?”

Michael pressed a quick kiss to the top of his head. “It’s a good movie.”

Alex didn’t disagree but that didn’t mean he was about to start quoting it. As he looked at Michael’s face, he could only hope that this would be the only time it happened.

Two

It wasn’t the only time it happened. Since Rosa’s birthday, Michael had found no less than eight occasions to slip in Sweet Home Alabama references.  It hadn’t even been two weeks yet.

No one else seemed to get any of them, if the strange glances Michael got when he let out one of the more obscure ones was any indication, and Alex wasn’t sure if that made him more annoyed or happy. On the one hand he was absolutely suffering alone here but on the other hand, Michael always gave him a conspiratorial look and a wink after one of his references and Alex might actually punch someone if he had to share that. 

Then again, he might just punch Michael if he didn’t stop.

“Alex Manes!” 

Alex stood up slowly and looked out the small window over the sink. Kyle’s mom, the Sheriff, stood outside, hands on her hips and a completely fed up expression on her face. Michael stood next to her, an all to familiar grin on his face. “He just won’t leave, Sheriff!”

Alex dried his hands on the semi-clean rag Michael kept next to the sink and slowly left the Airstream, stepping carefully on those damn steps he hated. “Sheriff,” he greeted. “What seems to be the problem?”

Sheriff Valenti sighed heavily, like she knew this was a waste of her precious time. “Mr. Guerin here says that you’re trespassing and refusing to leave.”

“...he gave me a key. And he hasn’t asked me to leave.” Alex glared at Michael. Michael grinned back.

“Well,” she sighed. “Guess there’s not much I can do then.” She tipped her hat to Michael with a look that could freeze hell. “Have a good day, gentlemen.”

“Wait!” Michael called. “Isn’t there some law against vandalism?” The Sheriff stopped and half turned back to them with a raised eyebrow. “The lyrics spray painted on the side of the UFO Emporium a couple of years back?”

“For fuck’s sake, Guerin!” Alex yelled. He’d been drunk and maudlin on one of his trips home. So not his fault.

The Sheriff closed her eyes. “Too long ago.” Didn’t stop her from giving Alex an evil eye. Alex shivered, not used to Kyle’s mom not loving him.

“Guerin stole Kyle’s hubcaps after graduation!” He shouted as she tried to walk away again.

Michael cursed when she froze. “Too long ago!” He tried. 

She turned around. “Anything else?”

“Alex dropped the water balloons off the roof of the Crashdown last year! Weren’t there like three car accidents that day?” 

Alex gaped. He’d been channeling his inner Peyton Sawyer that day and Michael was not allowed to use it against him. 

“Boys,” the Sheriff pinched her nose. 

“Is there still a warrant out for whoever stole the Sheriff’s truck about ten years ago? Took it for a joyride and brought it back missing both mirrors and a dented wheel well?”

Michael froze. “Oh please. Like I could tip a cow by myself.” He only smirked when Alex stared at him as the full realization of what was happening hit him. “Or steal the Sheriff’s, aka my godfather’s, keys from his desk.”

The Sheriff sighed and pulled out her cuffs.

Later, when they were sitting next to each other in the one cell of the station, Max looking in at them with his disappointed face while Jenna took pictures, Alex muttered, “really?”

“Worth it,” Michael smiled.

Three

Alex was not expecting to walk into the Wild Pony and find his brother standing at the bar. He hadn’t even known he was in Roswell. “Greg?”

Greg turned around. “Alex! Hey!”

Alex stared at him. Or rather, at the small child strapped to his chest. “You have a baby. In a bar.” He immediately closed his eyes when he realized what he’d said.

Michael whooped and kissed him soundly. “I love you.”

Four

“Ugh,” Isobel groaned loudly when the hot woman walked away from her. She turned to Michael and Alex. “Am I doing it wrong?” She shook her head. “No, of course not. Something’s wrong with her.”

“Yes,” Alex nodded sagely. “Clearly the problem is her.”

Isobel glared at him. “I am choosing to ignore your sarcasm.”

“Choose away,” Alex smirked. “Why are you trying to pick up women anyway?”

Isobel slid into the booth opposite them. “Have you heard of a little thing called same-sex sexual attraction? It’s when women want to have sex with other women.”

Michael snorted into his drink. Alex only rolled his eyes. “Yes, thank you Isobel for that enlightenment. I only meant, why are you trying to pick up women here?” Isobel glanced around the familiar walls of the Wild Pony.

“You think I can’t pick up a woman here?” She scoffed. “Watch me.”

And they did. Michael and Alex sat back and watched as Isobel crashed and burned three straight times. Every time, the woman walked back to her very male date, though Alex did note that two of them continued to shoot curious glances Isobel’s way. 

Isobel slunk back to their table and sat down with a heavy sigh. “I’m not doing it wrong,” she defended immediately.

“Oh, why don’t you go to a gay bar?” Alex and Michael exchanged a look when they spoke in unison. 

“Alex…” Michael said, wonder in his voice. 

Alex rolled his eyes. “Whatever. We’re not talking about it.” Michael laughed and kissed him firmly.

“Ugh, you two are so weird.”

Five

“So. Alex.” Liz and Rosa turned eerily identical looks on him that made him take an actual step back.

“What?” He asked warily.

They exchanged a look. “When are you gonna put a ring on it?” Rosa nodded to where Michael was fixing Isobel’s car. He’d lost his shirt at some point but Alex wasn’t mad about it.

“It’s only been a few months,” Alex replied. Really, it was a month shy of a year. Or, twelve years depending on how you looked at it, he supposed.

Maria scoffed. “So? We all know it’s gonna happen. Just a matter of when.”

“She’s not wrong,” Kyle added.

Alex gave him his best betrayed look. “You too?”

Kyle shrugged, unrepentant. “Just saying.”

Alex looked at his friends' faces and sighed. He drained the last of his beer and stood up, fishing the box out of his pocket as he did. 

“Oh my god!” Rosa whisper yelled. “Are you serious?”

Alex grinned and shrugged. “Might as well, right?” He turned around. “Guerin!”

Michael looked over. He was a mess, sweat dripping off of him and matting his hair together, oil streaks on his face and chest. Alex looked at him and his heart nearly burst out of his chest. “Yeah?”

There were some frantic noises from behind him followed by equally frantic shushing. Michael looked at their friends in confusion but quickly shifted his gaze back to Alex when he stepped closer. 

Carefully, Alex crouched down. He couldn’t get all the way down to one knee but he could get close enough. Michael stared at him wide-eyed as he held out the box. “Marry me?” He opened the box to show the ring.

Michael stared at it then at him then again at the ring. He reached out and took it from Alex, one hand helping him stand up. “Michael?” Alex asked, when Michael didn’t say anything.

Michael looked at him, a familiar look in his eyes. “Why would you want to be married to me for, anyhow?”

There was a strangled gasp from behind him but Alex ignored it. Part of him wanted to roll his eyes at Michael’s ridiculousness but more of him was just plain fond so he smiled and said his line. “So I can kiss you anytime I want.”

Michael beamed and kissed him.

“You fucking nerds!” Isobel yelled. “Fucking Sweet Home Alabama quotes in your proposal. I don’t even know you anymore Michael.”

Bonus 

Michael closed his eyes and gently nuzzled Alex's hair. He was half asleep, tired from their busy day and the night's activities, and he was pretty sure Alex was actually asleep, but the thought that had been niggling at him all day would not go away.

"Alex?"

Alex hmm'd sleepily but otherwise didn't react. Michael poked him in the hip. 

"What?" Alex cracked open one eye to glare at him. The effect was utterly ruined by the pure fondness in the look. 

"Did you know," Michael started off, trying vainly to hold the grin back. "I gave my heart away a long time ago." Alex groaned loudly and buried his face in Michael's chest. He didn't let it deter him for a moment. "My whole heart. And I never really got it back."

Alex glowered privately for a moment before rolling off of Michael with a heavy sigh. With his head on the pillow next to him, Alex turned to look at him. "Good," he said. "I'm keeping it."

"You better." Michael rolled over and braced his hands on either side of Alex's shoulders, hovering just slightly over him before Alex grabbed his hips and pulled him down. "Because you're the first boy I ever kissed, Alex. And I want you to be the last."

"I will be," Alex promised. He cupped Michael's face in his left hand, the feeling of Alex's ring on his skin causing his eyes to fall closed, and pulled him down into a kiss. 

[ajoy3fanfics]

101 Ways to shut up Granger p.3

Find it on AO3!

Fifth year

Bellatrix Lestrange had been beautiful once; Draco knew that much. Though the Malfoy’s did not hang portraits of Bella in their home, Draco had privately seen pictures of his aunt as a young woman, full of smiles, wide and toothy, laughing with her sisters. She looked striking- hair as black as ink, long and thick, twisted into loose waves that fell around her shoulder. It was a stark contrast to her pale skin, cheeks rosy with youth. She had the same eyes as his mother. Darker, to be sure- Draco had inherited his icy color from his Narcissa- but Bellatrix had the same heavy lidded look; When he looked long enough, he could see traces of his mother in her face. This was the woman his mother remembered. The sister she kept secret, hidden away in nightstand drawers and only took out when she had too much to drink.

The wanted picture showed a different Bellatrix. She looked almost grey, sickly. Her face was gaunt, starved. And her eyes-

She was just as crazed as he remembered.

Draco had only ever met ‘Aunt Bella’ once. Lucius had pulled some strings and made several sizable donations to secure the Malfoy family a visit to Azkaban. He could remember the click of his mothers heels on the stone floor as she briskly walked down the corridors, the blistering wind that cut to the bone.

And the mad woman locked inside. That, he could never forget.

She looked wild as she lunged from the table, chained and dirty. Draco had never seen a creature so unkempt. Her deep voice called out “Cissy!” in such tormented sob that Draco had been afraid that the creature was going to hurt his mother, and was astounded to see his father do nothing but look on as the lunatic pawed at Narcissa. She gripped his mother, the woman's dirty nails digging into Narcissa’s shoulders and wept. It was not until she heard his mother choke out a sad string of, “Bella, Bella” that he realized this was his aunt. Tears trailed down her filthy cheeks as she finally crouched down to inspect Draco. Her bony hand reached out, gripping his chin as she turned his head left to right.

“He’s got a bit of Black in him, eh?” She murmured, a crooked smile revealing rotten teeth. She began to card her hands through his hair and Draco froze, locked up in fright. It was all he could do just to breathe. “A little too much Malfoy, but we can work around that.”

“He’s a credit to both houses.” His mother said proudly.

“He’s a Black, Cissy. The last one. He’s got to carry on the legacy.” She looked at him seriously, leaned in to get a better look, and spoke slowly. Dangerously. “When the Dark Lord calls again, he must be ready to answer for the House of Black.”

He felt his mother pull him back, a hard tug on his shoulders, away from his aunt. When their time was up, they made no moves to visit again.

Bellatrix terrified him as a child. The witch she was before Azkaban was not the same as the one now his mother always said. She had always been a bit untethered, unpredictable. But the time in Azkaban, the isolation, the shame of losing her war, it had driven her mad, depraved.  She had once worn silk robes, but now she was draped in chains, stripped rags falling off her shoulder. Snape handed Draco the paper, his aunt holding a placard that read ‘prisoner 93’. She screamed, silent, unheard, as her matted and tangled hair flew around her. Draco swallowed as he tore his eyes away, pushing the paper towards his professor.

“I knew your aunt. In school and from… other associations.” He said evenly. Steady; Unashamed. “She will try to contact your family. She will try to contact you.” Snape looked at him seriously, “You must inform me if she does. I cannot stress the importance of this.”

Draco bit his tongue, did little else but nod. He turned on his heels to head back to the dungeons. He knew all summer that something was going to happen, felt the change in the air. It had been building up, winding towards a climax.

The coil was snapping.

~.~

Draco knew it was his aunt.. But until that moment, she seemed abstract. A portrait hidden away, not a flesh and blood family member. She was not someone he had to claim- not someone he could claim. She was too far removed from his life to be real. Until then.

A few Slytherns clapped him on the back, congratulated him that his aunt was free. Like they had been waiting for it. Like Draco should have been waiting for it.  

“To think they put a pureblood witch in a cell, just because she took up against muggles and mudbloods?” one had said. “Maybe she’ll keep up the work now that she's out again, eh? Good riddance!”

They seemed to have forgotten that she did not set her sights on only muggleborns, but on any wizard who disagreed with their cause. She followed blindly, faithfully.

Longbottom avoided him in the halls, and up until that moment he had always thought him a coward. Bellatrix was safely contained by the dementors, nothing to be afraid of. And yes, maybe their interactions did not leave the kindest impression on him, but Draco had never done more than sling an insult.

He was afraid, and had every right to be. It was easy to lock Aunt Bella away for Draco. She could be tucked nicely into a side drawer and forgotten about.  For Longbottom, she was just as present and cancerous as the day she cast that curse on his parents. Draco had only tasted this fear, and it left him in shambles.

Longbottom- Shit, he lived with it every day. He was stronger than he gave him credit for; not that he’d tell a soul that. Not when his housemates were giving him sly smiles, whispers of congratulations.

He knew he should share in their excitement; It would look odd if he didn’t.

It made him feel ill.

Draco couldn’t help but notice that Hermione looked as sick as he felt as she read the paper over breakfast. She folded it, a deep frown on her face as she stuck it into her bag. A mass breakout, they called it. He could see Potter and Weasley, shoulders hunched and faces pinched. From his spot, he could pick up bits of their conversation, all focused around Sirius Black. The two oafs were not as quiet and discreet as they thought themselves to be. Unsurprisingly, she seemed to be the only one who saw it for what it was.

He wondered if she felt it too, like they were at a precipice. Wished he could tell her how uneasy he felt.

Wished he could do more than steal glances over his morning tea.

~.~

The days passed, and no mention of Bellatrix came for him. Weeks after, he waited for the owl each morning, looking for clues in his mothers letters to let him know what was happening. They didn’t look any different than usual; she still sent sweets and her warm regards.

Draco held out hope that maybe Bellatrix used this opportunity to start over, to lay low.

All he could do was hope.

~.~

She seemed a little more cheerful, smiled a little more.

It was nice to see the color in her cheeks, the liveliness brought back to her. Felt good to focus on her instead of worrying about a psychopathic aunt raising the manor while he was tucked away at school.

He noticed that she was meeting with a larger number of students. Secretly, of course, and never for long. Never would he tell.

It wasn’t just Gryffindors she was associating with. Every house but his own was making contact with Granger, passing her notes, discrete nods in the hallways. The exchanges happened so swiftly, so often, that it was almost infectious. Several times Draco almost found himself nodding in her direction, before he clenched his fists to remind him that no, he and Granger were not involved in whatever she had going on. Fuck, they weren’t even amicable. It was like she was a damn ring leader in a cult with all the attention she was getting. Not that one would notice on the surface. You had to really watch Hermione to see those things going on. But luckily for Draco, that's all he had to do.

Umbridge had officially asked him to trail her, was sure that Hermione was the key to whatever she was trying to riddle out. He smirked as he accepted the mission, “I’ll be on top of her, professor.”

Fuck, he wished he could be.

Or under, or behind. Hell, he’d settle to just be near her, skirt hiked high so he could see her white panties. In the library, against the stacks. Or in his bed, hands twisted into his sheets as he gripped her thighs and drove into her. He’d take her right on Flintwicks desk if she’d let him. Merlin, he would give her anything if she would let him.

She walked by with Weasley, purposefully leaving Potter alone with Chang. She had her petite hand wrapped around her elbow as she whispered something about ‘space’. She was trying to contain a smile- awful at it, really. And looking at Weasley in a way that turned Draco’s stomach. Big, brown doe eyes, stealing glances. She had thick, heavy lashes- how had no one ever mentioned that? Never talked about her bedroom eyes?

Maybe because they were always directed at a bloody weasel, no one could take notice.

He noticed.  What he wouldn’t give to have her look that way at him.

Merlin, they weren’t even amicable.

~.~

It occurred to Draco that he may have a problem.

A small one. People all over the world suffered, people died everyday. He just had an infatuation.

A slight obsession, perhaps.

Mild. Completely mild.

Fucking ludicuris.

He and Hermione were not friends, yet he knew so much about her. Too much, some might say. He memorized her schedule, how she liked her tea. Knew she preferred cappuccinos should they be offered. Knew that when she stretched, she always put her hands high above her head and twisted to the right first. Knew that when she did that, the hem of her shirt would ride up, exposing the slightest amount of skin that left him salivating. Knew she often scoured informational texts, but far preferred fiction. Knew she liked to twist a loose curl around her finger as she read, idle, preoccupied. It drove him mad, made him want to demand her attention. She never fucking noticed.

That wasn’t even the problem. He was perfectly self aware that he was a sick bastard.

The issue was everyone else.

What would Slythern think if they knew Draco Malfoy was half hard every time he watched Hermione Granger take house points away? He’d be exiled, ridiculed. And if the news ever got back to his mother- she wouldn’t be able to handle it. The tears and theatrics that would ensure already gave Draco a headache. Merlin forbid his father found out…

History has shown what happens to pureblood wizards in his family that married beneath station. Marred their bloodlines so badly they were burned out of family records.

And for what?

It’s not like she would choose him anyway.

~.~

Ron Weasley was a terrible prefect. He liked to take house points away as an act of power, a way to boost his ego. Draco found it incredibly pathetic that Weasely needed a silver badge to feel important, but that was not the part that bothered him.

It was that he idiot didn’t even take it seriously! He seemed to make up his own rules, dock points based on his mood. And it became abundantly clear that if your skirt was short and legs toned, Weasley would let you off with a warning.

Even more infuriating was that he was paired with Hermione. He’d have to see them walking together, talking about Merlin knows what. Sometimes he’d make her laugh, but most times, he trailed behind her like a sad puppy.

Not for the first time, Draco wondered how different it would be had Hermione been sorted into Slytherin. He was certain she’d look stunning in green.

~.~

It was a hard pill to swallow, knowing how disgustingly one sided it was. Logically, Draco knew that he and Hermione were never going to happen. Never meant to. Never would be.

That did little to curb his imagination. It was so wild that it was hard to distinguish fact from fiction.

She didn’t want him, not like he wanted her. Hell, Hermione didn’t even like him.

No, not Hermione. Granger.

When had he started referring to her as Hermione? When had she begun to feel comfortable, familiar?

Granger. He had to keep reminding himself of that.

Prissy little Granger who was the first to correct someone when they made a mistake. Stuck up Granger who knew better than anyone else in the wizarding world- maybe the muggle one too. High strung Granger, who had one hell of a right hook, didn’t take shit from anyone. Always the boss, had to be the one in charge. It made Draco want to push her down, make her submit. No, that was the wrong train of thought. Prudish-  Granger alway had her oxford buttoned up tight, wore sweaters. He’d bet anything she was wild underneath. Granger, who-

Fuck, he needed to get his mind off of her. Needed to get Hermione out of his head.

Draco took a deep breath and reminded himself that he didn’t know her. Not really.

Granger.

Granger.

Granger.

~.~

Snape had never been the sort of professor who took an interest in his students, let alone those from other houses. At best, Draco could describe his relationship with Snape as awkward, but tolerable.

When Snape had asked him to stay behind after class, his heart nearly stopped beating. It had to be about Bellatrix. He was delivering news to him, passing a message his way. Something too horrid, too secret that his mother could not even code it in her daily message.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Draco.” He said, much to his surprise.

“What?” He scoffed, both relieved and genuinely confused at what the professor meant.

“You may think you are keeping it under wraps, but you stare far too long at the girl.” Draco swallowed hard.

“Its none of your business.” He spat. “And it’s nothing to get upset about.”

“Perhaps.” He drawled, considering Draco’s words, the defensive way he crossed his arms over his chest. “But, if it were… something…. More-”

“-It’s not-”

“Then I should remind you that your aunt has recently escaped Azkaban.”

“I’m well aware of that, thanks.” Draco snapped.

“If she finds that you hold even the slightest bit of affection for Granger-”

“Affection?” He countered. Snape kept steady, kept pressing on.

“She will crave her flesh clean from her bone. Bellatrix will turn her fingers into jewelry. So should this be anything more-”

“How many damn times-”

“BUT SHOULD IT-” Snape's voice rose to a timber he had never heard, made the hairs rise on the back of his neck. “I may be able to help.”

Draco froze, almost too afraid to breathe.

“Help how?”

~.~

Pansy was nothing if not a good distraction. Better than the Greengrass sisters, and aside from them, there were very few options left for Draco.

Yes, there were others available in different houses. Pureblood ones too; but it was expected that Draco would bed and wed a Slythern. Asinine traditions and expectations.

He was becoming increasingly tired of expectations.

Like valentines day.

Whose brilliant idea was it that witches needed the red carpet rolled out for them, just because it was the 14th of February? Chocolates from Switzerland, jewelry that dripped in gems. Cards and romantic gestures, adding layers of intimacy to a relationship. It felt forced and unnecessary; He didn’t give a damn about it.

Pansy, on the other hand, could talk about nothing else. She was good at that, filling the void with conversation. She didn’t prattle on like Astoria did, but kept it going at an easy pace. They were friends, and it somehow made it more bearable to try and replace Hermione’s name with Pansy.

He wanted to hold Pansy. Wanted to lick his way down her neck, grip her curls- no, short, cropped hair, as he brought her head back to bite the junction of her shoulder, suck it until it bruised. It was Pansy he imagined accidently running into in the prefects bath, tanned skin- fuck, pale skin covered up only by a bath towel.

Pansy was the one to enact that with him, but it was Granger on his mind. To be fair, he couldn’t help where his thoughts strayed as he rocked his hips between Pansy’s legs- his blood was flowing away from his brain.

Of course, it left Draco with mixed feelings. The sex was good- of that he had no complaints. But it was unfulfilling. Not enough.

Empty.

At first he had felt guilty about using Pansy, taking his needs out on her while he fantasized about someone else. The first few times the guilt had gnawed at him so completely that he felt sick enough to almost admit it to her. But then he remembered that though Pansy may like him as a person, she liked his Gringotts vault just as much. That without his money behind him, she might not be so keen to take his arm.

They were friends. Cut from the same cloth. They both knew what it was.

When she hinted (heavily, multiple times) that she might like to go out on Valentine's day, Draco didn’t mind taking the trip to Hogsmead. They were official, though no one had publicly said so, and a gentleman must treat his witch right- even if he thought the holiday was total bollocks.

He had met her in the common room, earrings in hand, flowers in the other, bundled and ready to brace the winter's chill. She had accepted the gifts gracefully, tugged on his bottom lip as she kissed him in thanks, and before long, they found themselves strolling through Hogsmead. Pansy looped her arm through his as they headed to Madam Puddifoots for tea, bags from Honeydukes in hand. The day hadn’t been entirely unpleasant, but the throngs of people crowding the street, obnoxious in their love, decked out in reds and pinks set him on edge. Best of all, it was entirely Granger free. A day without running into her. A day without having to see her sandwiched between Potter and Weasely.

That was until they passed The Three Broomsticks.

It wasn’t even his idea to stop in, to freaking spy. But as they walked by the shop Pansy caught sight of Granger and stopped dead in her tracks.

“Is that Granger?” She twisted her neck to get a better look. “At the Three Broomsticks for Valentines day. Oh, that’s rich.” He couldn’t say that she cackled- no wellbred woman would- but the sound was dangerously close.

“Probably just waiting for Weasley.” He answered darkly. He hated the idea of the two of them together. Hated the thought of her waiting for him. Did Weasely know how lucky he was that she even gave him the time of day? What did she see in him anyway? It certainly wasn’t his intelligence. Revolting orange hair, freckles, lanky build, was that really Grangers type? The reason she tied her hair up with red ribbons, wore a red sweater?

“Think Madam Puddifoots was too expensive for a Weasley?” She snickered. “Let’s pop in Draco.”

“In- In there?” He balked. “Whatever for?”

“I want to see what the Golden duo does without their third. I imagine they’re terribly boring. I’d bet Granger quotes from the dictionary and Weasley pretends to understand.”

Draco often wondered the same thing. They had nothing in common. What could the two possibly talk about? He wasn’t eager to find out, felt mouth turning down at the thought of Hermione leaning in to kiss-

“You want to spend our date watching Granger?” He asked.

“And Weasley, yes. Draco, this is loads more interesting!.” She smiled as she tugged him towards the door. “Like dinner and a show!”

Well, she had him there. In his very limited free time, when he wasn’t busy following Granger from one place to the next, he was fantasizing about doing it. Weasley was just never part of it.

No, he was doing this to get away from Granger, not drag others into his obsession.

“Pans, why would we want to subject ourselves to what I’m sure will be a disgusting display?”

“For the laughs, of course.” Pansy tilted her head as she appraised him.

“Seems incredibly juvenile.” He turned his nose up, hoping she would take the bait.

“You used to be more fun, Draco. This sort of thing used to get a rise out of you.” She pulled him forward, dragging him along. Despite having followed her just yesterday, having company made it feel seedy.

He rolled his eyes and allowed himself to be lead forward, quickly claiming a seat near Grangers table. Not too obvious, one would really have to look to catch a glimpse of them- but still close enough to eavesdrop. Draco made sure to get the seat facing away from her. He didn’t fancy seeing her make eyes at a weasel.

“I don't think Daddy exactly pays people to write for the magazine. They do it because it's an honor, and, of course, to see their names in print." He recognized that voice. Draco turned to Pansy and mouthed “Who..?”

“That's loony Lovegood.” She whispered.

"I'm supposed to do this for free?" Skeeter? Why on Earth was Rita Skeeter meeting at Hogsmeade? With Lovegood no less?

"Well, yes.” Draco heard her voice and it sent a shock through him. “Otherwise, as you very well know, I will inform the authorities that you are an unregistered Animagus. Of course, the Prophet might give you rather a lot for an insider's account of Azkaban...."

Draco’s eyes blew wide, taking in the new information. Pansy seemed less interested, though she still listened intently.

"I don't suppose I've got any choice, have I?" He could practically hear Skeeter seething.  

Draco couldn’t help the smirk; tried to control it by biting down on his bottom lip. His girl- she was damn good.

~.~

Umbridge is mad. No, that wasn’t even the right word for it. Livid, perhaps. Crawling out of her skin was a rage that was palpable, might be more accurate.

Thanks to his stunt and Hermiones brilliance, students were no longer allowed to read the Quibbler- not that he was anyway. Still, everytime another hammer hung up one of Umbridge's decrees, Draco felt himself suffocated a little more. Nevermind the fact that she was chomping at the bit to get Potter and his accomplices. He had thought that she saw him for what he was, but now he wondered if there was something more. Draco had his own reasons for hating Saint Potter, but Umbridge… it was almost as if she was threatened by him, for how harshly she reacted.

When Goyle had caught him talking with Lovegood and Longbottom in the hallway he had promptly split the trio up, and in the process, Potters glasses may or may not have been cracked.

And because nothing could ever be easy in his life, never achieve any sort of balance, he realized that if Potter was unhappy, so was Hermione. He couldn’t enjoy his nemesis getting what he deserved if he knew it would upset the witch that filled every corner of his thoughts.

He picked a fine time to give a shit about Potters well-being. Umbridge was hungry to make an example of him; it fell on Draco to tell Crabbe and Goyle to ease off.

Life just wasn’t fair.

~.~

He never used to care about what upset her. Used to call her a filthy little mudblood to her face.

Somedays, he missed that. Missed the time in his life when things were so uncomplicated. When he stopped making them complicated. At least if he could touch her, hold her, fucking taste her, it would make it worth it. What was it all for? What was the point of wanting someone so badly, crave them so completely that it made you question everything you thought you knew?

But then Draco would catch sight of her, legs curled as she read one of her blasted books, sunlight catching on her chestnut curls in just the right way that she looked angelic. Unashamed to be herself. Content with her own company. Smiling at whatever nonsense filled the pages. It must be a fiction story; must be one she was familiar with from the way she lazily turned the pages, like she had lived the story more than once. And in that moment, it would feel like Draco could finally breathe; like air was filling his lungs for the first time. It reminded him why it was worth it.

~.~

Why did prefects have to patrol with their houses? Just once- just once, couldn’t Malfoy and Granger be paired on the schedule? Perhaps to patrol someone outside, secluded, away from everyone?

Why was it always Pansy who unfastened his buckle in the empty classrooms, stroking his hard cock instead of Hermione? Pansy, who was caged between his arms, back against the cobblestone wall as she panted into his ear. He’d hike her thigh up higher, grip it tighter to lock her in place as he rocked his hips into hers. And when he’d come down, the ecstasy and joy washing away, he’d wonder “Is this what she’s doing with Weasley? Are they fucking at this very moment?”

The afterglow never lasted long when he was on rounds.  

~.~

They caught them inside the room of requirement. Caught all of them, red handed, wands drawn. Dumbledore’s Army they named themselves. Rule breakers was what Umbridge had said.

Draco had to be there. Crabbe and Goyle were practically giddy with excitement a Umbridge cast spell after spell to dismantle the wall. Pansy, who stood to his side, looked like she was going to burst from the drama. All Draco could do was try to remain calm. He willed the wall to hold, said every counter spell he knew to hold it up. He knew what the other members of the squad were doing, knew the curses and jinxes they gave as punishments. For all the rules plastered throughout the school, it was lawless. Worst, he heard rumors of Umbridge, and what she had done to Potter. He remembered the frightened look Hermione gave him as he tugged down his sleeve. Draco worried if she would see the same fate, once the wall was down.

What would he do? If Umbridge was determined to make an example of the golden trio, how should he react? He couldn’t sit by and watch her be tortured. He couldn’t just stand there and let her come to harm. He would have to do something; there was no scenario in Darco’s mind in which he could bear witness to Hermione hurt and in pain, with him on the sidelines.

He could see it all in his mind, a course of actions ready to be played out. All them leadinging to the rescue of his witch and the shame and isolation that would follow. Not just from friends and family, but also from her. She would never want to see him again if she knew in the inner workings of his mind; knew how desperately he wanted her. All of her. It wasn’t worth denying anymore. He was a sick fucking freak, and she would be better off without him nearby. And that would be the end of it- he would never see Hermione again.

He focused, begged, and willed the castle to listen. The room of requirement was supposed to fulfill a need, and all he was asking that the walls would stay up. It wasn’t good enough.

When Umbridge stepped through, the bright light of the corridor bleeding in, his eyes immediately went to Hermione. His stomach sank low to find she was already looking his way, looking at him.  

Each one was marched down to her office, made ready to give an account. All the while Draco formulated his plans and readied himself for his move.

~.~

On the list of things that Draco Malfoy thought to be unlikely, Dumbledoor taking the fall for Saint Potter and vanishing into thin air with a bird topped the list. He always figured he’d fuse himself to the chair inorder to avoid being cast out of Hogwarts. Leave it to the greatest wizard of all time to add the theatrics.

The whole school was in an uproar. He was certain his father would march down to the castle and pull him out, drag him back to the manor. His mother was over protective on her best days, and she would never stand to have her only child in a school filled with turmoil.

But when his father did not come, and Umbridge settled in behind Dumbledore's desk, he had a dreadful sense of foreboding that something big was about to change- and not for the better.

~.~

The Weasley's may be a menace, but the twins knew how to leave with a grand gesture. The only thing funnier than the entire fiasco was seeing how flustered Hermione had been.

~.~

Draco hadn’t meant to find her asleep in the library. For once, he was too preoccupied with his own studies to follow Granger around- O.W.L.S. were no laughing matter. The amount they were expected to memorize and recite was borderline criminal. No one would ever use half of the charms he was required to know, but he still had to spend his days practicing with wand and quill.

He had meant to get a book- just pop in and out- but as he walked to the stacks he saw her there, at her usual table, head propped on top of her folded arms. Her breathing was heavy, even, as her chest rose and fell with each intake.

Draco lowered himself to the floor and took a seat near her. They couldn’t sit at the same table, of course. But close enough that he could keep an eye on her while she slept. He picked up his wand and practiced charms, making paper birds dance overhead.

It could have been minutes, maybe hours before she woke. Draco wasn’t sure; it was like being caught in a haze to see her so vulnerable. Her lashes fluttered as she blinked herself awake, stretching high overhead, twisting to the right first, like always.

That was when she saw him.

“M-Malfoy?” She stuttered, embarrassed. It made him nervous to look at her so directly.

“Finally awake, Granger?” He snarked. “Thought you were going to spend the night here.”

“Wh-Why? What are you doing?” She was desperately trying to connect the dots, put the pieces together. Draco longed to drag it on, hold her there in the moment forever.

“You were sleeping, dummy.” It was quick, too quick. He should have put more thought into an explanation. “It's dangerous to be so carefree, you know.” He added.

“I must be dreaming,” She said, giving her cheek a gentle slap.

“Then you must have very boring dreams, Granger.” He smirked at her, unable to control it. “I like mine a bit more exciting.”

“I was sleeping-” She started.

“Thought we’ve covered that-”

“And you thought... you were the one to what, look out for me?” She was skeptical, and it was only fair. “Did you do something to me while I slept Malfoy? Do I have ‘idiot’ written across my forehead or something? Just tell me now and get it over with.”

“I didn’t do anything!” He objected.

“Sure, Draco Malfoy would just watch over me while I slept for no reason.”

He answered defensively. “I may be a lot of things Granger, but first and foremost, I am a gentleman. And a gentleman would never leave a witch in such a vulnerable position. You’ve no doubt studied charms. Not all of them are good natured. So yes, I looked out for you. My training as a wellbred wizard wouldn’t allow me to leave a witch alone like that.”

Hermione frantically ran her hands through her hair, trying to control the frizz and volume. Draco wanted to tell her to stop, that she looked fucking beautiful with it wild, untamed. But instead, he cleared his throat awkwardly. “No matter who the witch is.”

She nodded, as if any of the bullshit he said made any sense. As if he wasn’t watching over her for his own satisfaction, for his own peace of mind.

“Why didn’t you just wake me?” She managed, still eyeing him suspiciously.

Draco shrugged. “Have you seen yourself Granger? The bags under your eyes are incredible. You should submit them to a medical textbook.”

“Ha, very witty Malfoy.” She said, collecting her things into her bag. Draco did the same, stretching as he stood from his chair. “I- I just have been preoccupied- with my studies, I mean.” Hermione looked away from him as he rolled his neck; it made Draco immediately straighten, worried that he had become too casual, made her uncomfortable.

Of course he had! He was fucking watching her while she slept for crying out loud.

“Right.” His throat felt dry as he swallowed, then turned to leave. Two steps forward, and she in front of him, chocolate eyes holding him in place.

“Thank you,” she said. “I didn’t- I mean-” Hermione bit her lip as tried to gather her thoughts. It wasn’t often he got to catch her off guard, to watch the wheels work in Hermione’s head. When she spoke, her voice was lower, a sexy timber that shot right to his groin. “Thank you.”

Hermione took off in a brisk walk, leaving him behind.

It was a good day.

~.~

They had caught them by Umbridge's office. All hands were on deck looking for the group. Umbridge made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that nothing, barring death, was off limits. It set the group alight with a hunger for the hunt. Even Draco felt fired up to catch them.

If he didn’t get to Hermione first, who knew what would happen?

It was easy to find her, easy to know which set of footsteps were hers. He had trained for that moment, laid in wait, and now she was his. He’d crucio anyone who thought to put a hand on her. Draco led the charge, determined to be the one in control, needed to be the one.

Her hand reached out, ready to grip the door handle when he found them. They were quiet, even charmed their shoes to not make a sound, so to say Hermione was surprised to find Dracos large hand clamped over her mouth was an understatement. He worried that his ring knocked against her teeth, because the next thing he knew, he could feel her tongue dart out, as if licking a bloody wound. Her breathing came in quick bursts, hot and panicked. Draco’s other hand splayed across her stomach, pulling her in, closer than they had ever been before. The rest of the squad had followed suit, the sound of a struggle behind him.

She was making a strangled noise in the back of her throat, and Draco could feel the fear coursing through her. He leaned in, so small a movement it would be missed, until his lips were near her ear.

“Shh.” He begged, and felt her try to twist to look his way. Weasley let out a mangagled scream as his arm was bent backwards. “I won’t hurt you.” It was barely more than a breath, hardly a whisper. Hermione froze, eyes wide. Longbottom groaned as Crabbe knocked his head against the wall, a small trickle of blood running past his eyes. Hermione's voice began to hitch.

“Shh.” He begged, flexing his fingers that dug into her hips. “Please.”

Hermione was a smart witch- the brightest of their age. Draco silently willed her to understand.

If she made noise, if she struggled, it would have to look like he was hurting her. And for the life of him, Draco had no idea how to do that without traumatizing her. He ran his thumb over her cheek, small enough that it would appear to be a twitch, delicate enough that he prayed it was soothing.

“You got her, mate?” Goyle asked.

“Just brains and no brawn in this one.” He joked. “Granger barely put up a fight.” He squeezed her again, hoping beyond hope that his comment would not make her fight harder.

Remarkably, she stood still, her chest rising and falling as his arm crossed over it.

He didn’t miss the way Pansy looked him up and down, Granger held flush against him. He way his hands lingered on her skin.

“Let’s bring them into Umbridge’s office.” Pansy offered, “that’s where she’s expecting them.”

~.~

He should have kept a tighter hold on her- should have known she’d insert herself into any problem, try to solve everything.

Umrbidge had been tickled pink to see a job well done. More than happy to peg Potter as the main culprit. She wasted no time interrogating him; When Potter would not budge, not give up their secret weapon, she held her wand up, on the brink of the cruciatus curse. Draco felt his muscles weaken, his jaw go slack, felt energy drain. He heard her rumors, but that was nothing in comparison to seeing a professor ready to torture students. Wizards his age. Peers.

And if Harry was first, he could guarantee who was next.

Turns out, he didn’t need to wait for Umbridge to drag her forward; his damned witch offered herself up. Hermione rushed forward, and just like that, she was out of his grip, slipped away from his grasp. She was shouting, claiming that she knew where the secret weapon was, that she could take Umbridge to it.

In the woods. Of course it was in the bloody woods.

The headmistress pushed Potter and Hermione out the door, ordering the squad to keep a close eye on the rest of the group.

~.~

As Draco watched Ron Weasley run out of the office, he knew that the twit would brag to everyone that he had bested him in defense.

Not even in his damn dreams could Ronald Weasley beat him in defensive spells. Did he know that every summer, every holiday, his father made him train in them relentlessly? Did he moron really think he was able to bloody his lip and get that many right hooks in if Draco hadn’t thrown the match? Hell, he leaned in to every punch. When he let the jinxes render him paralyzed, Weasley hovered above him, examining his work. He smiled- wide, far too much gums, as he walked over him, stepping on Draco’s hand along the way.

He was oozing satisfaction, brimming with ego.

He could practically see him puff his chest out as he ran to Hermione to save her.

As long as he saved her.

~.~

[argylemnwrites]

Fight or Flight - Chapter 6: Next

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (canon divergent from the end of book 2)

Word Count: ~5500

Rating: PG-13 (rare language)

Summary: Eighteen hours since The Walker Absconding

Author’s Note: Sorry again for the delay on this one! I know PB has basically turned the laws of Cordonia into whatever they need them to be for plot reasons, but that’s not sufficient for me, so I am trying to construct some sort of framework based on what we know from TRM, ROE, and TRR/TRH. We’ll see how it goes...

This series follows the Walkers, their friends, and Cordonia as a whole after they flee the country with their daughter during Barthelemy Beaumont’s attempted coup. To catch up on this series, check out it’s masterlist. (link can be found via my bio - sorry, Tumblr is once again not putting my posts with links in tag searches)

“Riley… Hey, Riley.”

Riley’s eyes fluttered open as she felt a hand on her shoulder and heard Drake whispering her name, tugging her awake. It took her a few seconds to place herself as she glanced around the room. She reached for the nightstand with a fumbling hand before she remembered she didn’t have her glasses. She squinted at Drake. Thankfully, he’d crouched down in front of her, so he was at least in focus, even if the rest of the hotel room was a giant blur. 

“Is everything okay?”

Drake nodded, running a hand over his chin. He was already showered, shaved, and dressed in a grey t-shirt and a pair of jeans. “I am going to go to the bakery across the street and see if any of the locals can point me towards a cheap, used car dealership.”

“Okay. I don’t think I’m going to be much help.” She’d always meant to learn Greek since moving to Cordonia, but she’d only ever gotten around to learning a handful of words. After all, official court business was always conducted in English, and most of the citizens of Valtoria were bilingual, so there had never really been a need. Until now apparently. It’s not that no one in Ioannina spoke English, but it wasn’t as common as she was used to. Even last night, she’d been utterly dependent on Drake to discuss what they needed in a hotel room with the man at the front desk.

“Yeah, that’s why I thought you might want to just stay here with Bridget.” At his statement, they both instinctively looked down at their daughter, still sleeping soundly along Riley’s side. Riley knew it wasn’t ideal that they decided to let her sleep in the same bed with them last night, but they didn’t really have any other options when the hotel employee told Drake there were no cribs available. And truth be told, Riley hadn’t wanted to let Bridget leave her side. Things were still too raw, too fresh.

“You don’t want me to come along?” 

Drake shook his head slowly as he gently placed a hand on Bridget’s head. “I just figured it might be nice for her to be able to crawl and play and all that. Try and make things a little more normal for her, I guess.”

He did have a point. Normally, Bridget was able to crawl around and explore while they were taking meetings at Valtoria. Even on days where they had to go to the palace, one of them usually stuck with Bridget in her room there while the other handled all the official business. And Bridget was definitely at an age where she wanted to move about her environment. She didn’t like being restrained for too long.

“Okay. So you’re just going to get us a car then?”

He paused for a moment. “I think we need more than a car, Riley. I’m gonna try and find somewhere that sells outdoor supplies and camping gear. Plus a travel crib and a car seat for her. Maybe some toys, too.”

“You think we’re going to have to camp out to stay safe?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “I would rather have a tent and some sleeping bags and not need them than have to panic and hide out with nothing.”

She swallowed roughly before she responded, staring down at their daughter, still passed out and oblivious to everything that had transpired in the past day. “How bad do you think things are going to get for us, Drake?”

He didn’t answer her right away, so after a few seconds she looked up and found him staring at her intently. “I have no idea. This will probably all just be a wild story if Liam keeps his title, but if Barthelemy succeeds… fuck, Riley. Every law enforcement agent in the EU will have the right to arrest us for kidnapping and send us back.”

“This is insanity. She’s our kid. Why would other countries recognize us traveling with her as a kidnapping?”

There was another pause as Drake glanced down, staring at the floor. “Because she’s Cordonia’s kid before she’s our kid. And kidnapping is one of the crimes that doesn’t require criminality verification in the arresting country under a European Arrest Warrant.” She just stared at him, wondering why this was yet another piece of random trivia he knew. As if he could read her thoughts, he glanced up and continued, “I did some research when I couldn’t sleep last night.” 

“So another country would really just send us back for taking her out of Cordonia?”

“She’s legally Cordonia’s child.”

Riley sighed, trying to keep tears of frustration from forming. She’d cried enough yesterday, she didn’t need Drake thinking she wasn’t up to this again. But it just was a shitty situation. One they never should have been in at all.

“It’s not right, Drake.”

“No, it’s not. But it’s a little late to change that fact now.”

A wave of guilt washed over Riley as his words hung in the air. She could have put a stop to this bullshit long ago. She should have put a stop to it. And now everything was teetering on the edge of disaster. But she had to get a grip. She was not going to be an emotional mess today. So she took one last deep breath before responding to Drake.

“I think your plan makes sense. Can you stay with her while I get cleaned up before you go?”

Drake frowned just slightly, clearly wondering about the slight redirection of their conversation, but he nodded slowly, scooping up Bridget laying her across his chest as he settled down on top of the covers while Riley dug through the bag of clothing, trying to find something to wear.

As she showered, the lukewarm-at-best water pelting over her hair and skin, she tried to keep her thoughts from spiraling. Things were bad, but they could have been worse. They were together. They were able to withdraw money yesterday, so their accounts weren’t frozen yet. And they had some of their basic needs covered, thanks to Ray.

Ray had bought them several changes of clothing, some basic toiletries, more diapers and formula, and a few days of food before returning to Cordonia. He hadn’t let them pay for any of it, which was far too kind considering they’d lied to him and possibly made him an accessory to kidnapping. But he’d remained helpful and unfazed when they’d confessed that Lythikos was supposed to be their destination, not Greece. And he’d gotten them fairly well set up before he got back in the town car to return to Cordonia, a much appreciated kindness.

She wondered how things had gone when he spoke to Olivia, how pissed off she was about it all. Olivia hadn’t called them since they told her they were committed to staying away from Cordonia, so Riley had no idea how she was handling everything or how the hearing went. Hana had called again last night. She was alone at their home, trying to pack up a few of their personal belongings in hopes of getting them to them at some point if needed. She’d been kind and gentle, asking if there were certain items of clothing or specific toys that should be a priority. Riley didn’t know how Hana intended to get those belongings to them, but it was a sweet gesture. Even though she knew Hana wished they’d stayed in Cordonia, she felt grateful that her friend was trying to help them, even if she disagreed with Riley’s actions.

So there were some silver linings. But overall, things felt overwhelming and out of control. Riley had known somewhere in her mind that things were going to be horrible and stressful and mad difficult when she’d decided to get Bridget out of Cordonia as quickly as possible yesterday. But after a little sleep - admittedly very little given how upset she was about everything - things felt like they could quickly become insurmountable. 

But she just couldn’t bring herself to head back for Cordonia. No matter how many worries she had about how the three of them were going to get through things going forward, there was a better chance of them being together through it all outside that country, and she just felt safer, knowing there would at least be more difficulties for Barthelemy and any of his posse to get their hands on her daughter. Nothing about Cordonia was safe. And while she wished she’d been able to recognize that earlier, she couldn’t go back now. Not when it finally felt like her eyes were open. 

Stepping out of the shower, she quickly dressed and ran a comb through her hair, brushing her teeth and popping in her contacts before leaving the bathroom. She heard Bridget’s giggles and babbles right away. Turning into the main part of the small hotel room, she saw Drake sitting on the edge of the bed, bouncing Bridget on his knees as he held her in a standing position. She loved being stood upright like that, and it seemed like she’d be pulling up to stand on her own any day now.

When Drake saw Riley, he scooped Bridget into his arms and scooted off the bed. “She only woke up about 10 minutes ago. I can feed her before I head out if you want.”

“No, I’ve got it,” Riley said with a little shake of her head, taking Bridget as she got out a bottle, the formula, and a bottle of water. She was a bit surprised to see Drake digging through the diaper bag, pulling out all the money they’d managed to withdraw from their accounts yesterday. They’d both hemmed and hawed about pulling funds from the accounts tied to Valtoria, but eventually decided on doing it. After all, compared to kidnapping and treason, embezzlement charges were really just a drop in the ocean.

“You’re taking all the cash?”

“We haven’t heard from Olivia or Hana since last evening. Either things are still in progress, or they can’t safely get in touch with us. If it’s the latter, our accounts might be frozen now. I need to be prepared.”

Riley didn’t like the thought of being left without any money, even if she knew Drake was right. It left her feeling vulnerable, or rather even more vulnerable. She couldn’t help it, and a small, shaky little sigh escaped.

Drake pivoted to look at her, his eyes intense. “I’m trusting you not to take off with my kid while I’m gone. It seems like the least you could do is trust me not to take off with the money.”

There was just a hint of bitterness in his voice, but mostly he just sounded tired. Riley knew she was being callous with him. It was just hard to not let all her fears and worries spill over into everything she did and said at this point.

“You’re right; I’m sorry,” she said as she shook up the bottle of formula.

Drake let out a sigh, tucked the money in his wallet, and dropped a kiss on both her and Bridget’s foreheads. “Hopefully, I’ll be back in a few hours. Call if you need me, okay?”

She nodded and gave him a small little smile, but then he was off, hopefully to pull more cash and to get them some transportation. It was just her and Bridget, and even though that was her initial plan yesterday, it felt very lonely at the moment.

“Oh, Peanut. Mama has turned Daddy into a fugitive,” she cooed, giving Bridget the bottle. Figuring she should probably put this time to good use, she grabbed her phone quickly while Bridget actually had a good grasp on the bottle and sat down on the end of the bed, pulling up “How to run from law enforcement” as a search. At this point, they were going to be able to trace their ATM withdrawals anyway. If they somehow got ahold of her digital records from this phone, well, this search wouldn’t tell them anything they didn’t already know. Better to be at least a little prepared when Drake got back and they had to plan their next steps.

After reading for a few minutes, Riley swiped open her contacts list and tapped Drake’s name at the top of her favorites list. He answered almost instantly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, we’re fine. I just have something else you should buy.”

“What?”

“Burner phones.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was almost like deja vu, sitting in the same seat in the same courtroom as once again everyone rose to their feet except Barthelemy and himself. This time, Liam knew that staying seated would probably not be an option when the justice left the courtroom. He probably should have risen now, to be honest. The no-confidence vote that happened this morning was almost certainly going to stand. But Liam wasn’t ready to look defeated. He would wait until this hearing concluded before deferring and recognizing that anyone else might hold the power of the crown. 

The parties present today were almost identical to last night, with the addition of Hakim and Kiara on Barthelemy’s side and Hana on his. Normally, a different High Court justice would have been assigned since High Justice Questa had literally just ruled on an emergency hearing, but given that the same parties were named, she had volunteered to see this through. The usher waited until she sat down before once again announcing that all parties had been sworn in. As soon as he was finished, the justice looked from desk to desk, annoyance clearly written all over her face. It wasn’t surprising, but it didn’t bode well for either legal team. 

“Not even 24 hours later, gentlemen? You really are determined to not let me have my weekend, aren’t you?” High Justice Questa said with a sigh and a shake of her head. “Did we manage to actually legally call the Conventus Nobilis today? It looks like it was all in order based on this documentation from both parties,” she said as she flipped through stacks of paper, “a no-confidence vote that passed with a margin of three to two and installed the patriarch of House Beaumont as king-regent, so I’m not sure what your case is, Mr. Rys.”

Liam fought to keep his face steady. He’d been expecting it, mentally preparing for it, but hearing his surname used instead of his title, a surname that he almost never had needed in his life still burned inside him, a deep pain and sense of failure, both on a personal and public level.

“Your Honor, my client is not challenging the loss of his power. He is now acting as a concerned citizen who believes that the transfer of power to the defendant was illegally performed,” Diana stated calmly as she rose and leaned in to the microphone.

“A concerned citizen? Right, I’m sure that’s his only motivation. Regardless, the brief you submitted is compelling. There obviously isn’t a large amount of precedent for me to base my decision on, so I am going to carefully listen to oral arguments to supplement and clarify the briefs both parties submitted. Additionally, depending on the intricacies of how different historical and modern laws intersect with this… unusual combination of circumstances, I may just offer a provisional ruling with a formal hearing scheduled in front of the full High Court as soon as possible if I feel this is too complex and unprecedented to be decided by just myself. Do both parties understand?”

Both Diana and Charles acknowledged her statement, then Diana delved into her arguments.

“Your Honor, if a reigning monarch is removed from the throne, the law clearly states that next in line for the throne should assume a role of king- or queen-regent until a Conclave can be held, at which time the major noble houses will determine the new royal line. Additionally, Cordonian law states that any direct heirs to the throne who have not come of age should have at least two regents recorded in case of their ascension to the throne before they reach adulthood. Given that these two laws are clear, I do not believe that the results of the Conventus Nobilis vote can legally do any more than remove my client from power. The major houses do not have the power to name anyone they’d like as regent.

“Bridget Walker is the clear queen-regent at this point, Your Honor, and the documentation submitted with her anointing named the Duchess and Duke of Valtoria as her regents. Therefore, it is our contention that one of them should serve as regent until a Conclave can legally occur. It seems like the most logical conclusion from the laws on file.”

“The issue, Diana, is that both the Duchess and Duke of Valtoria were named in the no-confidence vote as well. At least, that’s what I assume you are going to tell me, Charles,” High Justice Questa said as she turned slightly in her chair to face the defense desk.

“Indeed, Your Honor. The results of that vote clearly indicate that the majority of the major noble houses fear for our country’s well-being and prosperity if either of the Walkers are allowed to serve this country as regent. My client has graciously offered to step into that role, seeing as the Duchess of Valtoria was sponsored by House Beaumont and is therefore an honorary member.”

“Your issue, Charles, is that your client can’t legally do that,” High Justice Questa added, tilting her head and raising her eyebrows. The fact that she was tearing through Barthelemy’s team’s arguments just as quickly as she had their own was a small reassurance. 

“He may have offered his services, but the majority of the noble houses support his regency as well.”

“Yes, but they don’t have that power either. They only get to name a new monarch, acting or otherwise, during a Conclave. And the vote today was not a Conclave, was it Charles?”

“No, Your Honor. A Conclave has to occur at the end of a Social Season.”

“Exactly. The regents for an heir who is too young to rule are decided by the reigning monarch at the time of the heir’s anointment, not by anyone else. In this case, since our new Queen-Regent was not born into the royal bloodline, but established in her position via Royal Decree, it is a noted precedent to allow the child’s parents to have a say in who is named as his or her regents. Why your client has decided he can just sidestep all of that is concerning. He’s claimed the power of the law for himself while being ignorant of our country’s laws at best, or with a willful disregard for them at worst. And quite frankly, the fact that the actual head of House Beaumont, his elder son, voted against him is not exactly a ringing endorsement.”

“Your Honor, someone needs to act as Queen-Regent Bridget’s regent!”

“Indeed, but not your client. The High Court does not recognize Lord Beaumont as acting regent at this time. Now, Diana,” High Justice Questa continued, not missing a beat, “your client was the reigning monarch at the time of Queen-Regent Bridget’s anointing. I see in your briefs that he has offered up two alternative regents for Queen-Regent Bridget - Lady Hana Lee or Lord Maxwell Beaumont.”

This had been part of their strategy, devised wearily sometime after 2 am and numerous cups of coffee. Since it was unlikely that the no-confidence vote was going to go their way, Diana had suggested naming alternate regents for Bridget, ones that would both be more sympathetic to his cause and that would be believable as alternate choices from Drake and Riley. Picking Hana and Maxwell had been the obvious choice.

“Your Honor!” Charles called out upon hearing those names, but he immediately quieted and sat back down when High Justice Questa raised her hand. She nodded at Diana, indicating she should continue in spite of the outburst from the opposing legal team.

“Yes, Your Honor. They are Queen-Regent Bridget’s godparents, indicating that the Duchess and Duke of Valtoria would have approved of either of them for this role, and my client is in total agreement.”

The justice didn’t respond immediately, but started flipping through a briefing, skimming a section when she arrived at the part she clearly wanted to discuss. Liam knew this was going to be their largest issue. They’d attempted to word the briefing carefully, not making it immediately apparent that Drake and Riley hadn’t actually been involved with the decision to name Hana and Maxwell up as alternative regents. But Questa was quick, and she had a great mind for details. The fact that this was the point in the hearing that she was explicitly referencing the text did not bode well for them.

“Diana, I’m looking at your wording here, where you mention your client’s reasoning for naming those two as possibilities for this role. Neither in your statement just now nor in this document do you ever quote the Walkers to indicate their approval. Is there a reason for this?”

Diana tried to be subtle, but Liam noticed her taking a deep breath before she responded, “Your Honor, we didn’t have a chance to speak to them directly. However, their-”

“I’m going to stop you right there. You didn’t have a chance to talk to them? Really?” Whatever scorn Questa held for Barthelemy, Liam felt it directed his way now, but at least doubled or tripled. She’d seen right through their little bluff.

“Everything has been so rushed, Your Honor,” Diana tried to justify, but Liam knew there was no salvaging this situation at this point.

“It seems like talking to the Duchess and Duke of Valtoria should have been high on your priority list to me. Common sense would indicate that if your argument was that those two individuals, in addition to your client, are responsible for naming a regent, actually getting them to name a regent would be pretty important to your case. So tell me, why haven’t you spoken to them regarding this matter? In fact, why aren’t they here in person? Last night I figured they had already put their daughter to sleep and were reluctant to leave her, but it’s-” she glanced quickly at her watch “-not even 5 pm. This seems like an important hearing for their family.”

“I haven’t been able to get in touch with them, Your Honor.”

High Justice Questa’s shoulders sagged slightly before she asked the question Liam was dreading. “Does your client even know their location at this time?”

Diana leaned over to him and whispered, “How do you want to play this, sir?”

He’d pulled Diana aside last night and informed her that Drake, Riley, and Bridget had likely fled the country, and that he had been choosing to stay ignorant of any information that would confirm that fact. She’d encouraged him to report his suspicions officially right then, insisting that he was her client, not them, but Liam didn’t feel throwing them to the wolves was the correct call.  He was frustrated and personally hurt, but he knew there was no malice behind their actions. Besides, it wasn’t likely to improve his situation. So, he’d insisted on sticking to his technical ignorance then, and he had no intention of deviating from that plan now.

“As we discussed, Diana”

With a little nod, she returned to her microphone. “He believes that they headed to Lythikos at the invitation of Duchess Nevrakis for some privacy, but he hasn’t spoken to them since they were on the road.”

Questa’s reaction was immediate, her eyes closing and a hand rubbing roughly over them. She looked completely done with the actions of everyone in the room. Liam honestly couldn’t blame her. He was well aware that from an outside perspective, both he and Barthelemy looked like bumbling fools at the moment. On the other side of the courtroom, Liam noticed significant whispering and chatter. Clearly, Barthelemy’s camp was speculating on what that statement meant. 

“Well, you all have decided to make this as messy as possible, haven’t you?” High Justice Questa mused to the room, interrupting all the side conversations. “Alright, this is what we’re going to do. I’m calling a recess until tomorrow at 9 am to allow the prosecution time to produce the Walkers. No statements, no hearsay, no speculation, they will be here in my court. If they are not present, sanctions will be issued, and the standing of their house and titles will be subject to review.

“As for the matter of Queen-Regent Bridget’s regent, that will be decided with or without their input at that time. If they are not produced, Mr. Rys will make the determination on his own. However, I would urge Mr. Rys to reconsider his choices for that role, because based on the reaction to the names you provided from the defense desk, I envision yet another summoning of the Conventus Nobilis if either of them get installed as regent. And if you think I’m impatient now, you do not want to see me if I am forced to preside over another emergency hearing.”

She paused for a moment, giving both desks intense, meaningful stares before continuing to issue her decision. 

“Now, as we are currently left with no clear agent to act as monarch, I will defer to several old Cordonian statutes. First, a king or queen who is too young to rule will be overseen by a regent who is the next in line for the throne over the age of majority, unless otherwise specified. Given that the Walkers are not eligible anymore due to the vote of no confidence, we will proceed through succession. Seeing as Mr. Rys is the last in his family line and our new queen-regent obviously has no heirs, based on the foundational statutes, Cordonia would revert to Nevrakis rule. Good news is the head of House Nevrakis is here and now knows she’s Queen-Regent for the next handful of hours. This is a provisional appointment only, as it is customary to allow a few days to establish a regency, and a new regent is set to be named tomorrow, so the powers of the monarch will only be enacted in emergency situations. Is that clear?” she asked, staring past Liam to where Oliva was seated.

“Yes, Your Honor.” Liam heard Olivia say from behind him, loud and clear even without a microphone. Olivia gaining power was an obvious victory today, but only a temporary one. If they attempted to leave her in power, Barthelmey would undoubtedly call for another vote from the Conventus Nobilis.

Upon hearing her response, Questa turned slightly towards the defense desk. Barthelemy was clearly fuming, but she continued speaking before that legal team could get a word out. “And before you get all outraged, Charles, I would encourage you to use this as motivation to urge your client to strongly consider letting the regent presented tomorrow stand instead of challenging yet another leader. Because the longer it takes for these two parties to reach an agreement, the longer she-” High Justice Questa said as she gestured to Olivia “-retains provisional powers of the monarch, something I’m guessing your client does not desire. Is everyone clear of my expectations?”

Murmurs of assent came from both desks, following which Questa gave a curt nod and tapped her gavel, bringing the hearing to a close for the day. Liam rose to watch her leave. He had now officially lost the right to stay seated. Oddly, he felt almost numb about that fact. There were so many other things happening that required his attention. 

He was expected to bring Drake and Riley to court tomorrow, and he was fairly certain that would not be a task that was possible for him to complete. This meant he needed to find another possible regent, one that Barthelemy and his allies would not attempt to remove from the throne but who would also be unlikely to bend to Barthelemy’s whims and schemes. Realistically, he needed to figure out Barthelemy’s endgame here. It would help him better plan for his next steps, including a bid to retake the throne at the Conclave, and if he was lucky, in the short term, it might even help him determine someone to suggest as regent who would be willing to show leniency to Drake and Riley. Allow him the chance to convince them to return to Cordonia, although the fact that Bridget was now the queen-regent did complicate matters more.

He saw Barthelemy approaching him, but Diana stopped him. “I’m sorry, but since this hearing is still pending, I’ve advised my client to not speak to you directly at this time.”

He let out a little huff, but went to rejoin his lawyers, allowing Liam to turn to Olivia, Hana, Maxwell, and Bertrand, all huddled in a little cluster behind him. 

“How are you, Liam?” Hana asked, patting his shoulder gently with her hand, her eyes full of concern and worry.

“It is all a lot to process at the moment, but today could have gone worse, I suppose,” Liam responded, trying to keep his voice calm. Any emotional response on his part needed to wait until they were someplace private. “I guess we need to find a place to reconvene now that the palace is no longer an option.”

Olivia frowned, “Who says it’s not an option? If I’m the provisional regent, I think we can easily return for tonight.”

“Are the optics of that wise? I wouldn’t want it to look like you were abusing the temporary powers Questa granted you.”

She just shrugged. “I honestly don’t care. They can’t touch me in any way that matters, and it’s not like I’ll be making a bid during the Conclave since I’ll be sponsoring you.”

Her nonchalant statement gave Liam pause. Although the Rys lineage could be traced back for hundreds of years, House Rys wasn’t one of the five major houses and therefore could not put up a candidate. He hoped she was comfortable with that offer and didn’t resent him for taking away her chance to be queen. The tone of her voice was just so matter-of-fact and resigned, and it made Liam wonder. But for now, he needed to focus on the short term, not the long term.

“I suppose it might be nice to clean out my office,” he said, soft enough that he was sure no one but the people right next to him could hear. The last thing he needed was Barthelemy to somehow get his hands on all sorts of official documents and start combing through them.

Olivia gave him a crisp nod of agreement before spinning to face Maxwell and Bertrand. “Alright you two - Ramsford first. Bertrand, repeat after me, ‘Documents detailing my father’s incompetence are more important than heirloom cutlery.’”

“Lady Olivia, I hardly-”

“It’s now ‘Your Regency, Bertrand,” she said, throwing in a little wink and chuckle as Bertrand started to sputter out apologies. “Seriously though. Maxwell, you need to keep him focused. Preventing your father from gaining control of House Beaumont is imperative.

“After you’re done at Ramsford, head to Lythikos. Now, Maxwell, repeat after me. ‘Literally anything I want to touch will probably maim or kill me, so I will touch nothing but my pillow.’ Bertrand, I’m counting on you from stopping him from causing serious bodily harm to himself or others.”

After the brothers expressed their agreement and left the courtroom, Liam noticed Olivia and Hana shooting glances towards each other. There was no one left in the room but Diana and the junior attorney with her today, Nicolas, so whatever they were silently communicating must be something that they wanted to keep from the legal team.

“Diana, Nicolas, we are meeting back at the palace. We can probably use the monarch’s office for tonight. But starting tomorrow, we will likely be relocating-” he glanced at Olivia, who nodded deeply “-to Lythikos. If you two wouldn’t mind heading back to the palace and determining who on the team is still willing to serve as my legal counsel now that I am no longer king, that would be a helpful next step. Say we meet up again in one hour?”

The lawyers agreed to the plan, leaving Liam alone with Olivia and Hana. “Alright, what couldn’t you bring up until they left?”

Hana passed him a sheet of paper. On it were two phone numbers, written in perfect cursive.

“What’s this?”

“Since you no longer are king, we thought maybe you would not want to be left in the dark anymore.”

It only took him a second to realize what Hana was saying and what the phone numbers implied.

“They got burner phones?”

Olivia let out a little sigh. “Yup. And if you want to talk to them, our next step should be getting you one, too.”

Permatag:  @walkerswhiskeygirl​   @riley--walker​  @bebepac​ @ravenpuff02​ @oofchoices​ @octobereighth​ @drakewalker04​ @kimmiedoo5​  @mfackenthal​  @thequeenofcronuts​  

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @ao719​ @mskaneko​ @katedrakeohd​ @jovialyouthmusic​ @marshmallowsandfire​ @axwalker​ @kingliam2019​ @sirbeepsalot​ @texaskitten30​ @princessleac1​ @ladyangel70​ @dcbbw​ @yaushie​

Drake x MC: @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria​  @iplaydrake​ @gibbles82​ @drakewalkerisreal​ @notoriouscs​  @drakesensworld​ @drake-colt-lover-99​

Fight or Flight: @masterofbluff​ @burnsoslow​ @bobasheebaby​ @shz256​ @iaminlovewithtrr​​

[just-jordie-things]

a blurb of reader always doing these dangerous things to impress Kiara and her getting mad at you because she doesn’t want you to get hurt and one day you guys get in a fight and the reader gets really hurt and Kiara admits that she always gets mad because she cares for reader and likes her (sorry if this was long)

You really are a showoff, and everyone knows why.

You’re a damn good surfer, so you make it work.  Most days you leave Pope in the dust, and sometimes you rival JJ in the different stunts you’ll pull when you’re out on the water.  The boys find it amusing, and hilarious when you wipe out and embarrass yourself.

Kiara however always babied you, scolding you for doing reckless tricks without practice, but you never really listened.  You just wanted to get back on your board and do it again until you could impress her.

It wasn’t just surfing though.  

As the life of the party, you were always trying to do some crazy shit to top the crazy shit you pulled at the last kegger.  It had been kegstands, skinny dipping, fighting with Kooks that looked at you the wrong way, backflips off of John B’s shoulders, anything that would capture the attention of Pogues and Tourons, and sometimes even Kooks.

But rarely Kiara, which is what you really wanted.

Since you didn’t know how to flirt properly, and there was no way in hell you would outright admit your feelings for her, you decided you’d just have to go bigger.

Looking back, that was pretty stupid of you.  But when you’d gone over your idea with the boys, they’d encouraged you excitedly.  That probably should have been a red flag that it was a terrible idea.  But Sarah wasn’t around that day to knock some sense into you, so you went along with it.

Agatha hit that night, quickly wreaking havoc on the island.  Homes were boarded up and everyone with a lick of common sense were holed up inside with their families.

Not you and the Pogues though.  You’d thought this was the prime time to go surfing, and really make a lasting impression on Kiara.

John B and Pope handled themselves just fine, wiping out a couple times, but getting back out there with ease and trying again.

You, however, got too excited and didn’t focus well enough on your balance.  On your first wave, you got knocked down, and next thing you knew the harsh tide was keeping you down.

You didn’t have time to take one last gasp for air before your board went under, pulling you with it by your ankle.  It felt like minutes that you were trapped under the waves, but soon enough you followed the rope attached to your leg and reemerged.

You wanted to get back on your board and try again, but as soon as you got out of the water, you felt the sharp pain in your ankle.

Fuck, that’s not good.

Pope and John B must have seen how bad your wipeout was, because they were quickly paddling towards you, and helping you to the shore.  It was difficult, since the waves were crashing over you heavily, but they got you there.

John B took your board and Pope lifted you up on his back to piggyback you to the Chateau, where Sarah JJ and Kiara had been waiting for you guys.

When you arrived, all eyes were on your swollen purple- and probably broken- ankle.

“What the fuck did you do!” JJ shouted, the grin on his face showing that he was more amused than he was worried.

Not that he didn’t care- he just knew that you could handle yourself pretty well.  And you didn’t look like you were in any pain.

“What the fuck did you do?” Kiara said the same thing, but she was definitely not amused.  She was pissed.

She stormed right over to you as Pope helped you off his back and onto the couch.  You smiled at her innocently, but it was no use.  She had her arms crossed and her brows furrowed, and her foot was tapping.

That was not a good sign.

“I thought you guys went to the store to get supplies, since we’ll all be stuck here all night,” Kiara said, turning to the boys now.  “You went surfing? In the hurricane?”

“It was (y/n’s) idea!” John B argued, holding his hands up in surrender.

You scowled at him, and he made a sorry face.

“I don’t care who’s idea it was!” Kiara retorted.  “Hurricane warnings aren’t suggestions you dumbasses! You’re lucky one of you didn’t die!” She whipped back around to you, her finger in your face.  “You’re lucky you didn’t die!” 

“I’m fine, Kie,” You shrug your shoulders, and she gestured towards your messed up ankle exasperatedly.  “It’s just a little bruise” You said.

“It’s definitely fucking broken!” She shrieked.

“Doesn’t feel broken”

“That’s the adrenaline, (y/n),” She sighed, no longer feeling the energy to keep yelling.  “You’re just in shock and can’t feel the pain” 

“Well it’s working,” You shrugged again.  “J, be a doll and roll me a blunt for when the pain hits? Thanks” 

Kiara ran her hands through her hair stressfully, her eyes shutting as she tries to think of what she could say to get you to realize that this wasn’t no big deal.  Sarah came up next to her, a gentle hand laying on her shoulder.

“Come on,” The blonde Kook said softly, hoping to calm her friend down.  “Let’s find the first aid kit and see what we can do about it while we’re stuck here” 

Kiara nodded, and followed her out of the room.  You frowned when Kiara’s glance back at you wasn’t a kind one.

You hadn’t meant to piss her off, you hadn't meant to upset her at all.

“That didn’t work” John B said, slumping down next to you on the sofa.

You look over at him, brows furrowed and your frown still present.

“No shit Sherlock” You muttered.

“You know, maybe you should just come clean,” Pope said.  “We know she likes you, and she doesn’t really care about all the wild stuff”

“Wow thanks I didn’t think of that” You grumbled, leaning your head back on the sofa cushion.  The pain was starting to hit as reality came crashing down on you.

You tried and failed to impress the girl you like, and now your ankle was broken, and the girl you like was very mad at you.  The adrenaline was wearing off.

“You’re kinda mean when you’re broken hearted” John B mumbled.

You turned to look at him again, but your frustrated expression melted away and you laughed quietly.

“Sorry,” You sighed.  “And I’m not broken hearted, I’m just... frustrated,” You admit.  “I like her a lot” You added, voice softer.

“Just tell her that then,” Pope said.  “It’s that easy”

“Says the guy who’s never made a move on any girl he’s ever liked,” You fired off, and then winced, and gave him a small smile.  “Sorry” You said again.

Kiara and Sarah came back in the room then, and John B excused himself, dragging Pope and JJ with him towards the kitchen.

“You guys making dinner?” Sarah asked, also finding a way to give you and Kiara some privacy.

She didn’t wait for the answer- which would have been no because there was never any real food at John B’s and they hadn’t gotten any food when they were supposed to because you wanted to surf- she just followed them into the kitchen to gossip and eavesdrop.

“I found some stuff,” Kiara told you, sitting on the floor in front of you as she laid out the few supplies John B had.

There was no food in the house but there was always plenty of first aid supplies.  Lord knows the boys could be as careless as you.

“I think I can do a makeshift splint for now, and then when the storm dies down we’ll take you to the hospital” Kiara explained, lining up the the plastic against your leg.

You hissed when she pressed it against your skin, all the pain hitting you at once.

“No, I’m good,” You shook your head, pulling your leg away.  “No hospital, the swelling will go down-”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kiara replied, hand wrapping around your calf and pulling it towards her again.  “We’re bandaging this up, it’s disgusting (y/n/n)”

She was calling you by your nickname again, even if it was out of annoyance, that was a good sign, maybe she wasn’t as mad anymore.

“I can’t believe you’re so stupid,” She huffed as she lined the plastic up with your damaged ankle again.

Okay, maybe she is still mad.

“Surfing in this storm?” She muttered, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry” 

It wasn’t what you planned on saying, you were going to explain the height of the waves and how killer it was to be out there, in the hopes that she’d see your side of the situation.  But instead, you apologized.

Kiara looked up at you, just as surprised as you were.

You never apologized, not for this sort of thing.  When she’d scold you for fighting, or for drinking too much, or anything really, you always just argued your way out of it, nonchalantly brushing off her worries.

But now as she looked at you, she could tell you really regretted it this time.  Your eyes were sad and glossy, and you were chewing anxiously on your lip.  You really felt bad this time, and she saw that.

“I just don’t get it,” She whispered, wrapping gauze around our ankle to keep the makeshift splint in place.  “I don’t get how your brain works sometimes,” She adds with a soft laugh.  “Or why you think that’s a good idea” 

You sucked in a sharp breath, both from the discomfort of your ankle and to prepare yourself mentally.

Here goes nothing.

“I just wanted to impress you,” You confessed, and her eyes shot up to meet yours.  “I just wanted you to think I was... I don’t know... cool” You added lamely.

A small smile tugged on the corner of Kiara’s lips.

“(y/n), I already think that,” She told you.  “You’re the coolest person I’ve ever met, and probably will ever meet.” She said sweetly.

You smile back at her, no doubt in your mind that your whole face was pink, but you didn’t care.  It was just nice to hear her say it.

“I’m sorry I yelled, and called you a dumbass” She added.

“It’s okay.  I was being a dumbass” You told her, both of you laughing quietly.

“Yeah, I can’t disagree with that,” She giggled, tucking the gauze into itself so it’d stay in place.  “I just don’t like seeing you like this, I don’t want you to get hurt I... I care about you, you know...” She admitted.

Your smile brightened, and you nodded your head back at her in understanding.

“Cause... cause I like you,” She finished her thought.  “A lot, actually” 

“You do?” You asked, eyes blowing wide.

“Yeah” She mumbled back, nervously meeting your eyes.

Your grin stretched ear to ear as you reached down to take her hands in yours.

“I like you too” You told her.

“Really?”

“Yeah dummy, why do you think I did all that stupid shit?” You laughed.

“I just thought you were crazy like that” Kiara replied.

“Well, that too, but I just wanted to impress you,” You said.  “It was dumb but it kind of worked, didn’t it?”

“No” Kiara said, in monotone.

“Well it’s working right now” You said with a smirk.

“No- no it’s not, (y/n), I swear to god if you go out and do more stupid shit I’m gonna-”

You cut her off, surging forward and closing he space between your lips, not caring about whatever threat she was about to make, you just really wanted to kiss you.

She gave up on trying to argue with you, melting into the kiss as her hands let go of your to rest at the base of your neck.

And coincidentally, your ankle didn’t hurt so much anymore.