#but it's just… wild to think about time passing

[thedensworld]

The Moves | K.Mg

Pairing: Mingyu x reader

Genre: Suggestive, humour

Summary: Here's the plan, get you on the bed.

Title number 50!

Mingyu had been restless these past few days. He missed you, and all he could do was stare at his phone, waiting for any sign of life from you. Mingyu had never been the type to get desperate. In fact, he's always been a man full of ego and pride. But ever since you came into his life, all of that had been tossed in the bin. Now, you were the priority.

Sure, Mingyu could have just bought a ticket, hopped on the next flight, and come straight to you. But he knows you too well—he knows you’d hate that, and that’s exactly why he’s been so restless ever since you left for that business trip.

He grabbed his phone from the coffee table, his thumb idly scrolling through articles to distract himself. One caught his eye: "5 Moves That Will Have Women on Their Knees." He snorted, amused. Mingyu did love seeing you on your knees, but honestly, he'd probably be the one on his knees for you. Either way, it worked out.

As he kept reading, ideas started forming in his mind. Maybe he could surprise you when you got back, do these five things and drive you wild:

1. A strong-Proximity stare after a hug or kiss

2. Gentle touch at the right moment

3. Whisper sweet, sultry compliments—mostly about how irresistible you look, of course.

4. Pin your hands above your head and take his time with you during make out.

5. Lock eyes during… well, you know.

He chuckled to himself. Okay, maybe this was making him sound like a total perv, or a man with a serious sensual streak, but he couldn't help it. It’s been a week since he last touched you, and all the conversations between you had been through texts, calls, or video chats—if you weren’t swamped with work. And he'd be lying if he said he didn’t miss you in bed.

With a heavy sigh, Mingyu leaned back on the couch. He had to admit it—he was a desperate man now. Desperate for you.

A notification from his phone caught Mingyu’s attention immediately. He glanced down and saw it was your message, letting him know you had arrived safely in South Korea and were on your way home with your manager. A wave of relief washed over him, and without thinking, he kicked the air in excitement before quickly typing back, "See you soon, my love."

He didn’t waste another second—he headed straight to the shower, the anticipation of seeing you building with each passing minute.

An hour later, Mingyu stood by the curb, hands stuffed deep in his pockets, trying his hardest to resist the overwhelming urge to pull you into his arms. Your manager was still there, after all. But the second you stepped out of the car, his heart leaped. He hadn’t seen you in what felt like forever, and everything in him screamed to close the distance between you.

He busied himself with your luggage, exchanging polite goodbyes with your manager, before finally following you into the house. Once the door clicked shut behind him, he set your luggage down near the entryway.

"Hi. How are you?" You asked softly, turning to him as you peeled off your jacket and tossed it onto the nearby chair. Your eyes, though tired, softened as you opened your arms.

Mingyu didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward and embraced you tightly, as if afraid to let go. God, he missed this. He missed your warmth, your familiar scent, the way you fit perfectly in his arms. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling the faint scent of your shampoo, and felt an overwhelming sense of peace wash over him. Your hugs weren’t just comforting; they were his sanctuary, a place where all his worries seemed to melt away.

"I missed you so much," you whispered against his chest, voice laced with exhaustion. He kissed the top of your head, murmuring back, "I missed you like crazy. I wanted to hop on a flight to LA so badly."

You let out a small chuckle, though he could feel the weight of your weariness. "How was the shooting?" he asked gently, his arms still wrapped around you, unwilling to let go just yet.

You shook your head slowly, the frustration clear without needing words. Mingyu's heart clenched at the sight of your exhaustion. He tightened his hold, his other hand coming up to rub soothing circles on your back. "It's okay, love," he said softly. "You can tell me all about it when you're ready."

You pulled him even closer, as though you wanted to meld your bodies together, to make up for every second of distance between you over the past days. Mingyu could feel how much you needed this closeness, the way you trembled slightly against him, and it only made him want to shield you from everything.

"Later," you whispered, your voice small and tired. He kissed your forehead, a silent promise of understanding. "Take your time," he said gently.

Mingyu held you a little longer, savoring the moment, thankful that you were finally home. Nothing else mattered as long as you were there, in his arms, where you belonged.

*

Mingyu sat at the dining table, a soft smile tugging at his lips as his eyes followed your every movement in the kitchen. It had been a while since he’d seen you in your element, confidently moving around and preparing a meal. Watching you cook brought back memories of all the times he’d admired your skill, but more than that, it reminded him how much he loved savoring the food you made with such care. There was something so intimate, so comforting, in the simple act of seeing you master the kitchen.

You came over with two plates in hand, setting one in front of him with a quick peck on his cheek—the sweetest finishing touch. Mingyu grinned, feeling warmth spread through him. Tonight’s dinner was pasta, and he was more than ready to devour it.

"Thanks for the food," he said, his eyes sparkling as he dug in.

After dinner, you settled on the couch, your eyes fixed on the TV as a Western drama played on the screen. Mingyu, however, couldn’t bring himself to focus on the show. Instead, his gaze lingered on you, admiring the way the soft light from the screen illuminated your face. He had missed this—missed you. It wasn’t just your presence he craved, but the small, quiet moments like this when the world slowed down and it was just the two of you.

You turned your head, feeling his gaze, and gave him a curious look. "Why are you watching me?" you asked, a hint of worry in your voice. "Is something wrong?"

Mingyu sighed, feeling a flicker of guilt for making you worry. He shook his head, rubbing his face as he mumbled, "I just missed you."

"You missed me?" You raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in your eyes at his sudden confession.

Mingyu leaned back against the couch, feeling a slight heat rise to his cheeks. "Yes," he admitted, more confidently this time, though the blush deepened.

You stood up from your spot beside him and without a word, moved to sit on his lap. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a warm embrace, your love and affection evident in every movement. Mingyu’s hands instinctively found their place around your waist, as if they had always belonged there. It was second nature now, this closeness, this comfort. Every time you were alone with him, it seemed like you always ended up in his arms, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He held you tight, his fingers gently tracing circles on your back, while you rested your head against his chest. For a moment, neither of you said anything, content to just exist in the peaceful silence, the unspoken love between you filling the room.

Is it time to make a move? Mingyu thought, his pulse quickening as he gazed at you.

You pulled back slightly, but Mingyu’s hands remained firmly on your waist, keeping you seated on his lap. His eyes locked onto yours, filled with adoration, but beneath that was a simmering desire.

Number one: a strong, lingering stare after a hug or kiss.

You smiled at him, your hands gently cupping his face, your thumbs brushing over his cheeks. Mingyu leaned into your touch, savoring the warmth of your hands. His fingers began to explore the contours of your body, tracing familiar lines as he slowly leaned in for a kiss.

Number two: a gentle touch at the right moment.

His lips met yours, soft at first, but as the kiss deepened, his hands moved with more purpose. He pulled away from your mouth just long enough to pepper your neck and shoulders with soft kisses, each one sending shivers through you. His mouth hovered near your ear, nibbling lightly before he whispered in a low, breathy voice, "You look so beautiful… it’s almost painful."

His fingers deftly began to unbutton your pajama top as he murmured, "I just want to make you feel good," his voice raspy and filled with desire.

Number three: whisper sweet, sultry compliments.

The kiss grew more heated, more urgent, as Mingyu lowered you onto the couch, his body hovering over yours. Your hands found their way under his shirt, your fingers tracing the lines of his toned skin, igniting the passion between you. The tension was palpable, each kiss more intense than the last. Without warning, he gently took your hands from his body and pinned them above your head, holding you in place. He paused, breaking the kiss just long enough to gaze down at you. His breath caught as he admired how breathtaking you looked, flushed and beautiful beneath him.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice full of sincerity and longing, before claiming your lips again.

Number four: pin her hands above her head and take his time during the make-out.

Everything was building to this moment, but Mingyu was patient, savoring every touch, every kiss. The anticipation hung heavy in the air, and as he hovered above you, he realized he was falling deeper in love with by every second.

The final move? It was just about a matter of time.

Mingyu took his time with you, showering you with compliments about your body and the effect you had on him every time you were together. He sighed in pleasure when your hand found his, loving how you made him feel.

"Babe..." you mumbled, but Mingyu couldn’t care less. He was too busy exploring your mouth and savoring your softness.

Then you dropped a bombshell. "I'm on my period."

Mingyu froze, a stunned silence enveloping the room for what felt like an eternity. "Seriously?" he finally asked, disbelief etched on his face. You nodded, heat rushing to your cheeks from the embarrassment of your confession.

He buried his head in your shoulder, laughter bubbling up. What kind of comedy was this? He had been mentally counting the moves he’d read about in that article, "5 Moves to Make Women on Their Knees." But how could he attempt the fifth one when you two had agreed never to go there while you were on your period?

With a heavy sigh, Mingyu shifted away from you, sitting up and leaving you still lying on the couch. "I’m sorry... I just couldn't control it. I really miss you," he said, frustration creasing his brow as he rubbed his face.

"No, don’t be sorry. I should be the one apologizing. I should have told you sooner," you replied, squatting in front of him and gently pulling his hands away from his beautiful face.

He sighed again, but you could still see a hint of a smile playing on his lips, as if he found the situation amusing. "Why are you smiling?" you asked, genuinely puzzled.

Mingyu shook his head, a playful glint in his eyes. "I’m still hard," he whispered, resting his head back on your shoulder.

What you said next took him by surprise. "Want me to take care of it?"

He couldn’t believe his ears. He didn’t need to deploy any of the five moves to get you on your knees. All the embarrassment and longing suddenly felt worth it. Mingyu's heart raced at the thought, and he couldn't help but grin. This was turning into an unexpected night, and he was all in.

He's glas he's married to you.

[pigeon-butch]

I certainly have my own concerns about the treatment of moo deng but um. well i think some of you may just be racist

[uns4lted]

ꜱᴏ ʜɪɢʜ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ᴘᴛ. 2 ᴡ/ ᴄʜɪɢɪʀɪ ʜʏᴏᴍᴀ, ɴᴀɢɪ ꜱᴇɪꜱʜɪʀᴏ, & ʙᴀᴄʜɪʀᴀ ᴍᴇɢᴜʀᴜ

characters: blue lock pairings: chigiri x gn! reader, nagi x gn! reader, bachira x gn! reader genre: fluff a/n: as promised, here's so high school pt. 2 with chigiri, nagi, and bachira! might do reo, rin, and sae next, who knows? :>

drabble series: So High School pt. 1

── .✦ chigiri hyoma

The field is alive with energy as Chigiri sprints down the sideline, his crimson hair flying like a streak of fire behind him. You’re standing in the crowd, eyes locked on him as he moves—swift, elegant, and completely in his element. There’s something about the way he commands the field that keeps you glued to the spot, heart pounding a little harder with each of his strides.

Your friends are talking beside you, cheering, but it all fades into the background. The only thing you can focus on is him. Chigiri, with his effortless speed and quiet confidence, seems untouchable. It’s like he’s in a world all his own, unreachable, and yet, here you are, hopelessly caught up in his orbit.

As he slows down for a moment, his eyes sweep over the crowd—and your breath catches in your throat. His gaze locks on yours. It’s brief, just a fleeting second, but it’s enough to send your heart into overdrive.

For the smallest moment, Chigiri’s lips curl into a smile—barely noticeable, but there. You blink, wondering if you imagined it. But no, that smile was real. And just like that, he’s back in the game, his attention on the ball, leaving you standing there, heart racing, cheeks warm.

The match goes on, but you can’t stop replaying that moment in your mind. The way his eyes found yours in the crowd, the quiet smile that made everything around you blur. It feels like nothing… and yet, it feels like everything.

Maybe he’s just like that—carefree, always in motion, noticing things in passing. But you can’t help but wonder if, for just a second, you stood out in his world too.

── .✦ nagi seishiro

The classroom is quiet, sunlight streaming through the windows as you sit next to Nagi, working on a project. Well, you’re working—he’s sprawled in his chair, his head resting on the desk, more interested in his phone than in the papers scattered between you. His eyes are half-lidded, and his white hair falls messily over his face, giving him that effortlessly cool look. You try to focus, but it's hard when he's so close.

“Sei,” you say, nudging him with your elbow. “We’re supposed to be working on this.”

He doesn’t even look up, just mumbles, “This is boring… Can’t we do it later?”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a part of you that’s amused. That’s just how Nagi is—lazy, laid-back, like nothing really matters. It drives you crazy sometimes, but there’s something oddly comforting about his presence too. You glance over at him again, and this time he’s staring at you, his phone forgotten.

“What?” you ask, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze.

He blinks, slowly, like he’s deciding whether or not to speak. “You’re too serious about this stuff. It’s just a project.”

You open your mouth to argue, but then he reaches over, poking your cheek with a lazy grin. “Relax,” he says, his voice soft, “You’re cute when you’re stressed, but it’s not worth it.”

Your face warms instantly, and you turn away, trying to hide your reaction. But Nagi’s still looking at you, now with a small, satisfied smirk, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Let’s just take a break,” he suggests, stretching his arms over his head and settling back into his seat. His hand lingers on yours for a second, barely noticeable, but enough to make your heart skip.

You try to focus on your work, but it’s impossible now. With him sitting there, so close yet so distant, and his words still echoing in your mind, all you can think about is that tiny, fleeting touch—and how much you wouldn’t mind if it happened again.

── .✦ bachira meguru

It’s well past school hours, and most of the campus is empty, but not you and Bachira. He had this wild idea to sneak onto the soccer field after everyone left—because why not? With Bachira, things always seem to happen that way, random and spontaneous, like he’s chasing something only he can see.

You’re both lying on the grass now, staring up at the fading sky, your backpack discarded somewhere behind you. Bachira rolls onto his side, a playful grin on his lips, his golden eyes catching the last bit of sunlight. “You ever wonder what it’d be like to just… run forever?” he asks, his voice quiet but full of that childlike excitement you’ve come to associate with him.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Run forever? No thanks. I’d probably pass out after five minutes.”

He laughs, that infectious sound that always makes you smile no matter how hard you try to stay serious. “Nah, not like that,” he says, nudging your shoulder. “I mean, like… running after something, but not knowing what it is. Just running because it feels right.”

Typical Bachira. Always chasing something, even if it’s only in his head. You turn your head to look at him, and for a moment, he’s quiet—something rare for him. His gaze is fixed on the sky, but there’s something softer in his expression, like he’s thinking about something that matters more than his usual playful antics.

“What are you chasing, then?” you ask, half curious, half teasing.

He glances at you, and his smile shifts into something more sincere. “I don’t know yet,” he says, shrugging, “but maybe I’ll know when I catch it.”

For a second, there’s something in the way he looks at you that makes your heart skip a beat. It’s fleeting, though, because in the next moment, he’s sitting up, springing to his feet and offering you a hand.

“Come on,” he says, his grin returning. “Let’s go! Race me!”

You laugh, taking his hand as he pulls you up, already sprinting ahead like he always does—like he’s chasing something that might just be you.

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! <3

[aliceintheworld]

PURE ATTRACTION | JJK | TATTOO ARTIST

Pairing: TattooArtistJungkook X NaiveReader

Summary: "I shouldn't be watching a man undressing, especially not from the house next door."

Warning: more religion 😬 depression, Jimin, Taehyung, and Yoongi appear. Jungkook in a towel 💦👅 finally a kiss (things from here happen quickly.) ATTENTION, THIS STORY IS NOT SLOWBURN.

A/N: Guys, I took a while this time for reasons of: laziness and discouragement. I wanted more people to read what I write, but I'm introverted even on the Internet, which leaves me with few alternatives to show my writing to the world. Thinking about it, I'm in trouble. Other than that, only a few days have passed, so everything is fine. Back to the story, everything starts to pick up pace. Just to repeat, the fanfic is not slowburn, so there will be smut in the next chapter. Stay tuned.

Previous Chapter

Chapter 3

I spend the whole week riding an emotional rollercoaster. I find myself visiting my neighbor, Mrs. Jeon, more frequently than usual, and with each visit, our friendship blossoms deeper. She shares stories of her youth, of wild adventures and carefree days when she was my age. Her openness encourages me to share my own experiences–or rather, my lack of them. I recount my first disastrous kiss, confess that I've never been in love, and reveal how my once unshakeable faith in the church has wavered since my father's passing. I feel a weight lift off my shoulders; here, I am free to be imperfect, to be vulnerable, without fear of judgment.

Yet, there's one thing I keep to myself: the incident with her son, Jungkook, and the profound effect he has on me. Throughout all my visits, I never see him again. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I casually ask Mrs. Jeon where he is. She tells me that he moved and rented an apartment to avoid being a burden. He only spent the first night at home after his trip, and I remember that night well–from my window, of course–but I don't mention it. Disappointment settles in me like a stone; I long to see him again, but I focus on his mother instead. Having her to confide in is a relief, a breath of fresh air in my otherwise stifling life.

I patiently wait for her to open up about her own struggles, her depression, but she never does. I worry that I might know something I shouldn't, that perhaps she's not comfortable sharing with me. But I promise myself I'll keep her secret safe, no matter what. Today is Sunday, and I won't visit Mrs. Jeon since I'll see her at church. I'm excited–despite my mother making unnecessary comments and disturbing my peace of mind, I'll have someone to rely on.

I smooth down my dark brown dress, fixing my messy hair. I dab a bit of lipstick on my fingertips and press it onto my lips, careful not to overdo it. The truth is, I enjoy makeup, but I've never learned how to apply it properly. I feel embarrassed drawing attention to myself with bolder colors; after all, people are used to my lack of vanity. I sigh, steeling myself as I head downstairs to meet my mother.

She hasn't stopped talking about Jungkook. Unlike me, who had a good first impression, she despises him. She criticizes everything: his eyebrow piercing, his bold style, his tattoos, even the way he carries himself. I can't help but wonder if she accepted the dinner invitation just to analyze him, searching for flaws that exist only in her mind. She's been friends with Misuk since moving to town, and I want to believe–perhaps naively–that my mother doesn't have ulterior motives.

We arrive at church early, the space quiet with only a few members milling about. My mother drifts away to chat with the older congregation, and I find a seat, taking a deep breath. I scan the room for Mrs. Jeon but I don't see her. Since it's still early, I'm not too worried. I take a moment to read the Bible, reflecting on positive thoughts when I feel a gentle touch on my shoulder. I turn, and there he is–Jungkook, smiling brightly. I frown, almost convinced he's a mirage. Am I daydreaming?

"Hi Y/N, are you okay?" he asks softly, his lips brushing almost against my ear. His intense gaze locks with mine, and I'm relieved to be sitting down; my legs feel weak in his presence.

"Everything's fine," I reply, my eyes dropping to my fingers. I want to engage him, ask about his week, inquire how he's been, but the words stick in my throat. It's as though I can't act normally around him. I take a deep breath, mustering the courage to comment, "I didn't know you attended church."

"I don't," he laughs, amusement dancing in his eyes. And rightly so; considering his clothes–a heavy leather jacket, shaved sides, and a wavy fringe–it's sexy but definitely not what you'd expect at church. "I haven't been since I was a kid."

"Really? Why?" I ask, genuinely curious, my gaze drawn to his eyebrow piercing, oddly captivating.

"I didn't feel welcome," he replies simply. There's no bitterness in his voice, and I understand all too well what he means. My mother, for example, was the first to judge him based on his appearance, and I can only imagine how difficult it is to feel at home in a place where you're not embraced.

"I understand," I say, unsure of what else to add. "So, you came here to give it another shot?"

"No way," he chuckles. "Actually, my mom mentioned you two planned to meet at church today."

"That's true," I confirm.

"Unfortunately, she can't make it today. She's not feeling well."

"Is she okay?" My concern surfaces immediately.

"She's fine, don't worry. Just a headache, and she took some medicine. She'll be better soon," he assures me, his hand lightly touching my shoulder. I can't help but notice how warm and gentle his touch is. I shake my head, trying to divert my thoughts from Jungkook's hands to anything else.

"I'm relieved to hear that," I smile, noticing the church is starting to fill up.

"I'm actually inviting some friends over to my apartment, and I wanted to know if you'd like to join us," he says, brushing his fingertips against his ear, a bit shy. I'm taken aback; I didn't expect this invitation. He wants me to come over with his friends?

"And why?" I ask, surprised. It's been a while since we last saw each other, and we haven't talked much even then.

"I like you. I want you to come so we can have fun."

"If this is some kind of payment, or something like that... you really don't need to." I reply, not believing it. I don't have friends, and the thought that he wants to be with me and the people he likes seems absurd to me.

"It's not that. I'm even a bit offended." He jokes, smiling. "I really want you to come, please."

"Jungkook... I don't know."

"I swear they're nice. Every time I'm in Busan, we hang out. They're trustworthy, I promise."

"I can imagine," I reply, still hesitant. I'd have to leave church, skip the service, and ask my mother for permission to go out with him, and of course, she wouldn't allow it. No way. It's not that I don't want to; I desperately want to spend time with him. That's been on my mind all week. "I don't think it's possible; my mom..."

"I know," he interjects, as if he anticipated my response. "But what if, just this once, you say you are going to my mom's? We could say I'm taking you there when in fact, you're coming to my apartment."

"Are you asking me to lie to my mother in a church?" I can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it. He shrugs, grinning.

"God knows it's just once," he replies confidently, pouting slightly. "What do you say? Later, I can take you to my mom's whenever you want, or you can stay at my apartment since I have more than one room. You set the time and conditions."

"Jungkook..." I groan, covering my face with my hands. The thought of lying to my mother, especially to go to a guy's house, sends a wave of anxiety through me. If she finds out, I'll be in big trouble.

"Come on! It'll be fun. I promise," he pleads softly. I can't say no to him, at least not now. I nod, agreeing to the madness.

"Okay, but you're the one who's going to talk to my mom. And if I say I want to leave, you agree. No alcohol because I know you drive. Those are my conditions," I assert, trying to sound firm. He smiles and salutes me, like a soldier receiving orders, and I slowly get up, taking small steps toward my mother. I let Jungkook lead the way, my nerves creeping back as I prepare to tell a lie in this sacred place.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Eunji. Good afternoon, everyone," he greets my mom and the other church members. My mother looks utterly shocked, her eyes nearly popping out of her head as she takes in his appearance.

"Good afternoon, Jungkook," she replies, lacking enthusiasm, her gaze scanning him from head to toe. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to do a favor for my mom," he clarifies, and if I didn't know better, I'd almost believe him. "My mom asked Y/N to keep her company since my dad will be out of town for a few days. I came to pick her up."

"Really?" my mom looks at me, and I don't say anything, just nodding.

"It's true. My dad went to Daegu this weekend, and since my mom hasn't been feeling well, she asked Y/N to spend time with her. If you allow it, of course," he smiles calmly, and I brace myself waiting for my mother's response. I watch her weigh her options, glancing between Jungkook and me for what feels like an eternity before she sighs and nods.

"Alright, that's fine. Is your mom feeling okay?"

"Yes, she's getting better. Can we go now?" he asks, a hint of urgency in his voice.

"Yes, you may go," my mom sighs, placing a hand on her forehead. "It's a shame you're missing the service today, Y/N. Next week, you'll definitely come, okay?"

"Yes, mom, for sure," I agree weakly, clearing my throat and avoiding her gaze, still stunned that she let me go to Jungkook's house. Well, not his house, but is practically the same thing.

"Shall we go, Y/N? My mom is waiting," Jungkook says, raising an eyebrow. I nod, still silent, as we make our way toward the exit.

Some people stare, especially the older members, who seem shocked by Jungkook's appearance–too conservative, in my opinion. Somehow, the situation feels even funnier. Once we're sure no one can see us anymore, I burst into laughter, clutching my stomach. Jungkook chuckles too, exhaling as if he's just finished a tough exam and is finally free.

"Your mom is tough, huh?" he laughs. "I thought she was going to kill me with her eyes."

"Sorry," I say, still giggling a little. "She's like that with everyone."

"Even with you?"

"Even with me," I nod. "What do we do now?"

"Now, we go to my apartment. My friends have the key, so they're probably already there."

"Don't tell me they're all guys," I groan, suddenly anxious. I hadn't considered that he might not have any female friends, and I'd be the only girl at the apartment if that were the case.

"No, relax! I have female friends too. You'll like them," he assures me, walking toward a sleek black car parked across the street. I know nothing about cars, but I can tell this one is expensive. I feel out of place, acutely aware that Jungkook lives in a different world, one that's far removed from my own.

The tension in the car is palpable as we drive. The ride feels like it takes forever, the windows closed, and I'm intoxicated by his scent. I discreetly watch his large hands on the wheel, the way his long fingers tap rhythmically against the leather seat. I have to swallow hard to keep from drooling over him. I'm starving–not for food, but for him. All week, I've yearned to be near him, to touch him. I think I'm suffering from a Jungkook overdose, craving something I haven't even tasted yet.

I ponder whether he's aware of the effect he has on me, but I like to believe he hasn't noticed. It's easier that way. I breathe slowly, attempting to relax in my seat. It takes another ten minutes before Jungkook opens the gate to a condo with a small remote and drives in slowly. His car fits the place perfectly. Everything is stunning and upscale. I glance at my clothes and regret agreeing to come. Why did I say yes? I don't know his friends, and I don't know Jungkook that well, aside from the overwhelming attraction I feel toward him. What do I actually know about him? That he's a tattoo artist from Seoul? That he's rich and hasn't set foot in a church since childhood? I feel like I've walked into a situation that's spiraling out of control.

"Hey, Y/N, are you okay? You went quiet all of a sudden," he asks, concern etched on his face.

"I'm fine. Just feeling a bit strange," I admit.

"Why?"

"I don't know," I confess, omitting my paranoid thoughts. "I always feel like this in new places."

"I get that. I feel that way too," he tells me as we step into the parking elevator. I follow him, digesting this new revelation.

"You seem so confident and social," I comment, genuinely amazed. His big eyes meet mine as the elevator rises, floors passing by in a blur.

"I know, it seems that way. But in reality, I'm quite introverted. I have a small circle of friends and prefer it that way. I just fake it really well," he shares, and I find myself wanting to know more about the person behind the confident exterior.

"Really?" I ask, intrigued.

"Yeah," he nods, his expression earnest.

I try to respond, but the elevator stops on a floor, and Jungkook smiles at me, indicating that this is the right place. I feel one of his hands gently touch my waist, guiding me to a white door. I have to take a deep breath to keep from freaking out, my sweaty, trembling hands hidden in my pocket. I hear different music from the other side of the door before the place fully opens up to us.

"Hey, he's here! Finally, Jungkook!" I hear a male voice. It's a guy around Jungkook's age, I realize as soon as we walk in. His hair is a dark red, and his skin is pale and smooth. It's no surprise that his arms are covered in tattoos, drawings and phrases I can't read so far away. He also watches me closely, smiling warmly.

"Guys, this is YN, the one I told you about," Jungkook introduces me with a smile.

I turn red because there are at least seven people staring at me from head to toe. The apartment is well-kept, with dark wooden furniture. The living room is immaculate, with abstract paintings and photos of Jungkook and his family on the walls. I don't have much time to take everything in as my eyes focus on Jungkook's friends, who are strangers to me so far. Saying they're different from me would be an understatement.

They all have many tattoos and wear dark clothing. I sense an aura of confidence from all of them, but never hostility. It's as if they're very similar to Jungkook, with a completely different exterior from their inner selves. I relax a bit, smiling warmly and putting on my best expression.

"Nice to meet you all," I say, feeling a bit shy. They stand up and smile at me.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Yoongi. That's my girlfriend, Minji," says the red-haired guy, pointing to the woman who just smiles. I offer my hand, feeling his cold skin from the beer bottle he was holding earlier.

"I'm Bora, and this is my boyfriend, Jimin," one of the dark-haired women greets me next, pointing to her boyfriend. They're a good-looking couple, the kind you see in magazines. Jimin has the brightest and most open smile.

"Nice to meet you," I nod.

"I'm Taehyung, but you can call me Tae," one of the guys says, taking a sip of his drink.

"I'm Yoori, Tae's girlfriend. Nice to meet you," she winks, making me laugh.

"And I'm Hayun, the only single one in the group," one of the girls shakes my hand, pulling me into a hug. She kisses my cheek, making her presence increasingly noticeable.

"Hayun, you're only single because you want to be, come on," Bora rolls her eyes. Hayun laughs, grabbing a snack from the coffee table.

"I like being single, except when I'm surrounded by couples. Especially couples like you guys."

"Do you have a boyfriend, Y/N?" Jimin asks. Embarrassed, I shake my head.

"No," I reply. They seem surprised, making noises with their mouths.

"But Jungkook is single too, right?" The guy with dark hair says, drinking his beverage. I thinks his name is Tae, if I remember right.

"And I want to keep that way." Jungkook replys.

"Of course you do." Yoongi laughs along with his friends, rolling his eyes. I remain silent, not understanding the joke. Then Yoongi looks at me and seems to notice my confusion. "Y/N, Jungkook never dates. The only time he tried, it went so wrong that now he doesn’t want to do it again."

"It was a disaster." Yoori adds, as if telling a fictional story. Jungkook rolls his eyes, sighing, but his friend continues: "he’s been avoiding relationships like the devil avoids the cross since then."

"Really?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"It’s not true, Y/N." Jungkook smiles at me. "They’re idiots."

"That’s not a lie." Minji, who had been silent until then, clarifies. "He’s been asked out several times, and he always declines. Women go crazy for him, for some reason."

"I know what the reason is." Jimin laughs mischievously, suggesting something while raising an eyebrow. I turn red when they laugh at the joke. Jungkook doesn’t contest it, too busy eating one of the snacks on the table. "But what about you, Y/N? Have you ever dated before?"

"Never." I reply. They don't look surprised this time.

"So you're like Jungkook, who avoids relationships?" Bora asks with a laugh. I feel Jungkook's eyes on me, watching attentively for my response. I shake my head, feeling awkward.

"No, actually, it's just a lack of options," I clarify, deciding to be honest. I hold my hands together nervously.

"Now you have two options," Yoongi suggests with a chuckle. Minji hits his arm trying to stop him, but he continues: "There's Hayun, since she likes to try out a little bit of everything, like some pussy and shit."

"Oh!" I widen my eyes, shocked, as they laugh even more. It's the first time I've seen someone speak so openly like this. Embarrassed, I look at Hayun, but she doesn't seem to mind the comment, laughing with the others.

"Who would be the other option?" Taehyung asks his friend with his trademark grin.

"Our friend Jungkook, obviously," Yoongi clarifies, and I choke on the answer, coughing uncontrollably.

They laugh even more, watching me nearly suffocate from the joke. Jungkook pats my back, smiling widely. His thumb caresses the skin of my arm, waiting for me to calm down. We're so close that he inadvertently wraps one of his arms around my shoulder. I'm shocked and even more unsettled. For me, physical contact beyond my mom is rare. Hugs, affection... I'm just not used to it.

"Are you okay?" he asks amidst his friends' chatter. I nod, staring at my hands. "Sorry about Yoongi; he always makes these kinds of jokes. He doesn't mean any harm."

"It's fine," I assure him, feeling awkward, unable to look into his eyes. "I actually liked everyone."

"Really?" he asks, bringing his nose close to my hair. My whole body shivers as I realize he's smelling my perfume, giving a satisfied smile when he pulls away. "Good to know."

I stay silent, feeling his warm breath near me. Jungkook removes his arm from my shoulder, but his skin still brushes against mine when he takes off his heavy jacket, leaving him in just a T-shirt. His friends are fun and involve me in the conversation, making me feel comfortable, but the truth is that having Jungkook so close drives me crazy and I can't pay much attention. I wonder how long I'll feel this way about him. Will this strong effect never go away? This is the third time we've met, but something tells me that no matter how many times I see him-be it two times or a thousand-my heart will always race whenever he gets close and smiles at me.

I don't even notice the time passing and only realize it's late when Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung offer to take their girlfriends home, along with Hayun, who complains about not having anyone waiting for her at her apartment. Everyone leaves until only Jungkook and I remain. He promised to take me to his mother's house if I wanted, but I'm hesitant to ask as it's quite likely Mrs. Jeon is already asleep by now.

"Y/N, do you want me to get a towel for you?" Jungkook asks, tidying up the living room. I'm confused, picking up some empty soju bottles his friends drank to throw away.

"What do you mean?"

"You're not going to stay here?" he asks, furrowing his brow.

"Not really?" I laugh, then realize I might have been a bit rude, so I rephrase my response. "I mean, I don't think so. I don't want to be a bother."

"It's no bother. If you want, you can take a shower in my bathroom and sleep in the guest room." He offers with a smile. I bite my lower lip, unsure what to decide. I want to stay here, but it's just him and me now; is it really the right thing to do? It doesn't matter, Y/N. Just for one night.

"Okay then. Do you have a toothbrush, please?"

"Of course I do. Come with me, I'll get the stuff for you to use the bathroom." He calls me with a smile and walks down the long hallway. We pass by a few doors until we reach his room. My throat goes dry as my eyes scan the new space. His bed is large and covered with a dark gray blanket. The walls are white and everything is very organized, with a laptop next to the wardrobe and a fluffy black rug on the floor. His scent is everywhere, almost as if I'm breathing him. I clutch my hands together nervously about being alone with Jungkook in such an intimate space. He reappears after going to the closet, holding a white towel and some cotton clothes.

"You can take a shower in my bathroom while I use the guest one," he says, placing the items in my hands.

"Jungkook, that's not necessary..."

"Don't worry. I want you to be comfortable." He says before I can argue. His satisfied smile makes me not deny it again, happy to receive so much care from him. I just nod, agreeing. "The toothbrush is in the cabinet by the sink, in the package. You can open it, okay?"

"Okay, thank you very much." I smile before he walks down the hallway. I head to the door leading to the bathroom and sneak into the new space. I start thinking Jungkook has no flaws.

The place is as clean as the rest of the apartment, which makes me curious; does he clean everything himself, or does he hire someone to keep it tidy? I slowly take off my dress, grabbing my phone to text my mom and let her know I'm okay. I feel bad for lying, but the night was so good that I can't truly regret it. If I had to lie, to meet these same people, I would do it again. Thinking this surprises me, because just a few hours ago, I didn't think this way. The shower has a strong hot jet of water that massages my whole body, and it's so good that I have to convince myself to finish the shower and put on the clothes, trying to be done before Jungkook.

I brush my teeth quickly, smelling my skin that's still male fragrant with the liquid soap. I smile at myself in the mirror, brushing my hair with my fingers, trying to manage the unwashed strands. I open the bathroom door carefully, trying not to make too much noise and disturb the neighbors at this hour, when I see Jungkook again, this time only in a towel. I hold onto the doorframe, barely able to stand. A voice in my head tells me I shouldn't be watching him naked again and that I should turn around, go back into the bathroom, and pretend nothing happened, but I can't. I simply can't anymore. His muscular, wet back is in my field of vision as he searches for clothes. At that moment, my brain turns to mush and I decide to say what's been stuck in my throat.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" I muster the courage to ask him but I regret it immediately. What the hell am I doing? Jungkook turns slowly and the view from the front is a thousand times better than from the back. His whole body glistens in the light of the room, and his tattoos have never been so vivid. His body is muscular, virile and strong. I gonna lose my mind! Feeling new sensations I've never experienced for anyone before.

"Y/N?" He whispers my name with that soft voice he used when we first met. He doesn't seem surprised or embarrassed, which makes me even more unsettled.

"You're doing this on purpose, Jungkook?" I ask again. I have no idea where I got such courage and I don't know how long it will last. My heart feels like it's going to leap out of my chest. My whole body is on edge and sweating. I feel my hands trembling as I swallow hard. "You're trying something? I mean... you're not wearing clothes again and..."

"What do you think, Y/N?" he retorts suddenly, with a hoarse, deep voice. His eyes wander from my head to toes, as he raises an eyebrow along with his piercing, with a smirk at the corner of his mouth. My legs turn to weak twigs immediately, ready to collapse.

"I-I don't know." I stammer as he takes one step, then two and three, getting closer and closer to me.

"When I arrived from my trip to Busan, on the first day, I was tired and exhausted," he tells me, taking another step. I start to run out of breath, anxious and aroused. My cheeks flush as he speaks more slowly. "All I wanted was to rest and sleep the whole night, but that night I couldn't, not for an hour. Do you know why?"

"N-no..." I moan softly as his chest presses against mine. His warm, wet skin makes contact with mine, and I no longer know where I begin or end, pressed against his body. His pink lips curl into a wicked smile, as if he knows exactly what he's doing to me and it's all intentional. I shiver as his free hand moves up my wrist and grips the back of my neck firmly, making my eyes focus on his mouth and then his dark, deep eyes.

"A woman, next window, taking off all her damn clothes, completely shameless," he growls, pulling my neck closer to his face and pressing his lips to my ear. My spine tingles as I feel his teeth on my earlobe, in a bite that doesn't hurt but damn, it makes me shiver. My body contracts once and twice, and I know exactly what I'm feeling now: desire. The kind I feel occasionally when I try to touch myself alone and can't reach climax. The feeling I only have when I'm alone and confortable in my bed, trying to use my imagination even with the lack of real experience, but this is real, and it is infinitely better than what my mind could create.

"It was an accident, Jung..." I try to say, but my voice doesn't come out. The tip of his nose travels along a sensitive spot behind my ear, one I didn't even know existed, slowly moving down my jawline, discovering new paths. His hand tightens around my waist, keeping me in place, immobile.

"It may be that you didn't notice, Y/N, but I know you were watching me, even while I was undressing, even when you had every opportunity to stop." He argues with a smile, as someone who knows what they're doing and enjoys seeing the result. "And you know what's worse...? The worst thing is knowing the effect you have on me. From the first time I saw you in my house, with your innocent and curious eyes. I can't get you out of my damn head. Your mouth, your scent..."

"J-Jungkook... please." I beg, closing my eyes tightly. And I know what I want. I want him, since the first time I saw him. Since my eyes met his, I desired him so strongly that I couldn't think straight. He pulls away just a little, and I almost moan in a plea for him not to go. He sighs, pressing his forehead to mine.

"Can I kiss you, Y/N?" he asks in a very soft voice, and I nod because, despite all the things I believe in–God, hell, heaven and even my mother–nothing has ever been as adored as Jungkook. Since I met him, inexplicably, I only think about him, like a spell unable to contemplate of any other answer besides yes. I look at his eyes as they travel to my mouth, and I lower mine to his, exhilarated by that pink that only exists in him.

I move closer, my lips almost touching his, feeling the warmth of his breath. "Just kiss me, please." I murmur scared of what I'm doing; temptation clear in every word. And then he does.

Ask for a TAGLIST in the comments.

@ane102 @ttipa @joonwater

[gaslysgirl]

Your Carlos Sainz drabble was amazing 😍! Could you do one with Pierre Gasly? You are accompanying him to a photo shooting for Hawkers (the one where he wears the suit) and you think he has never looked so good. No wonder his grid number is 10. After he finishes the shooting, you just can't resist him. Your hands are all over him during the drive home, on the kitchen counter, in the shower... You've forgotten how many times he's made you cum. And when he talks to you in French, you are definitely done for 🤤

Disclaimer: this is google translate french, sorry 😔

"Pierre, Pierre, Pierre," you gasped, not sure if you were about to pass out or just see stars, or both, when his head disappeared between your thighs while you were sprawled out over the marble kitchen counter in his Milano apartment. Your legs fell open without a battle when his hands firmly spread you open for him, looking at the mess he made just seconds ago. He takes a second to admire your glistening pussy before his tongue licks up the slick that's dripping down your thigh, the stubble on his chin and cheeks roughing up your soft skin, but the burn hurt so good. Two of his fingers slipped inside you easily, already stretched out and overstimulated from the work of his cock.

You gathered all of your strength to lean up on your elbows, looking at the wild look in his eyes, his hair messed up from your fingers raking through them, the suit that belonged to his jacket was thrown on the floor behind him, the sunglasses you had been promoting together barely an hour ago lazily thrown on the counter next to his car keys. Your dress was bunched up around your waist, your panties ripped and stuffed into the back pocket of his slacks. God, this was filthy, it was filthy, needy sex that was overstimulating you, making you cock drunk and feel hazed like any time you had this man to yourself. The primal urge and desire Pierre fucked you with was so addictive, and even when you were sure you couldn't go for one more, he managed to squeeze three more out of you.

"Cette chatte a tellement bon goût," he groaned, licking your clit into his mouth and sucking it between his lips, his fingers soon working in tandem with his mouth. You felt your body tensing up already, not able to slow down the untying knot in your lower abdomen when his fingers worked their magic by brushing over your g-spot, stimulating the spot inside you that made you let out borderline pornographic moans, satisfying his ears and complimenting his ego. "J'adore quand tu jouis pour moi," Pierre's voice rasped, teeth nipping at your hipbone when his thumb replaced his tongue on your clit, rubbing in firm circles while the pace of his fingers didn't falter. Your ears were ringing when you soaked his fingers, crying out when his lips wrapped around your clit again as you came.

"Tellement bon pour moi," he whispered, feeling his cock being painfully hard again. You watched through hooded eyes as he jerked himself once or twice, smears of your lipstick visible at the base of his cock, revealing the secret that your lips were around his cock in the car while he was driving you back to his apartment. Pierre lifted you off the counter and onto his cock with no warning, the feeling of being filled to the brim causing your toes to curl and your nails to claw into his shoulders. You almost made it into the shower without stopping anyway, but there was no way he could skip the mirror above the skin, in which you looked so pretty as he bend you over the counter, your tits bouncing with each rut of his hips.

The hot steam of the shower made your mind even more fuzzy, as if you had just finished a whole bottle of champagne. His stamina was truly crazy, and you could barely remember whether he had fucked you in the hallway first or if you had gone straight down the kitchen when you came back after the photoshoot. Your palms planted against the glass wall, desperately trying to find something to hold onto while his hands were wrapped around your hips, dragging you back onto his cock while he thrusted into in a firm pace. "Fuck, f-fuck, Pierre," you whined, barely able to keep standing up as another orgasm was wiring up inside you, making you feel hot all over. "Tu en as encore un pour moi, bébé, je le sais," he growled, listening to the slick sounds of your bodies colliding with each thrust.

You were glad his arm curled around your waist when you tipped over the edge, dots clouding your vision and your feet nearly slipped over the tiles. The aftershocks were the most delicious you ever felt as his cock was pulsing between your walls, his lips kissed your neck, his hot breath ghosting over your ear. "The fotoshoots with you always get me so fucking horny," he breathed, making you let out a laugh. "You say?" you smiled weakily, sure you would struggle to walk tomorrow.

[moirindeclermont]

I've just realized this is the last Tuesday/Wednesday that we pass with an episode of "All Polin's First Times We Didn't See" (even though we'll have kinktober) so I feel a little bit bittersweet about it. Today is a request and it's about the first time Pen's 💦

If someone would ask Pen what was the biggest surprise of being with Colin, she honestly could not believe she could get a straight answer.

Sometimes, when she thinks about it, it seems madness, like it didn't even happen to her maybe. Maybe she is still with her mom and sisters, being a wallflower.

She remembers the shock upon discovering Colin had feelings for her. She'll think about that carriage ride for the rest of her life, probably. The way her heart was beating so fast, the way it took all of her courage to admit she wanted to be more than friends, even in the face of his confession, the way her stomach swoop when Colin kissed her again and didn't stop ever since.

She always wanted Colin, but the way that desire went through her as they took their first steps together was another thing that shocked her. How powerful was feeling desired by him. How powerful was feeling her own lust coming through. She had never imagined that being taken was so literal, even if it was just a couple of fingers inside her, that very first night.

And then, their first time, sometimes it's overwhelming just thinking about it, because how could a moment in time being so perfect? Snippets of it are impressed in her memories, full living painting she gets to revisit when she wants. Seeing all of Colin. Feeling that stretch. How Colin felt inside of her. How they seems to fit perfectly together. Feeling safe and loved, so connected with another being that he must have share with her a piece of his soul.

And from that, the most beautiful exploration of what it means to be together and intimate. How each time felt like a first time, for a while, as they learnt each other bodies and the way they respond to different things.

And yet... It seems like she is learning new things still.

That night they were wild. He already took her but he wanted to give her more. So he started again with fingers and mouth, his personal favorite combination.

Nothing new but the intensity and the speed was unknown to her. She was moaning and whining, making sounds she didn't even think she could possibly make. Everytime she looked at him, she could fell hike speeding up, hitting a particular spot inside her that was quickly building a devastating release.

Time stood still as her body began to seizure, the release so wild and powerful she felt herself gushing for what seemed like eternity. When she looked at Colin, she saw he was soaked and the knowledge she did that was exhilarating and powerful at the same time.

"You're a marvel," said Colin, and while she was breathless and sweaty, she felt like one.

That was the night she realized that through their love and connection, Colin has taught her so much about her own self. How to be confident sure, but also her own uniquely feminine power, the depth of her desire and lust for him, as well as an appreciation for her own body, so often judged, that she will be forever grateful that he chose to chase down her carriage that night.

[trippinsorrows]

are jey's kids really bad or is that just roman being a grump?

oh no, they are bad. lol you ever seen bebe's kids? imagine that.

something like this....

-----

"i want the shipment moved no later than—" the sound of an object crashing and shattering interrupts roman, the speaker shutting his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

third.

this is the third goddamn interruption in under half an hour, and there is no doubt in roman's mind that the cause is the same as it was the prior two times.

and judging by the look on jey's face, he thinks the same too.

standing up, he turns his body toward the house and calls out, "hey, what ya'll doing!"

jimmy snorts and takes a sip of his beer. "ain't it obvious? breaking shit."

jey shoots his twin a look that's the equivalent of 'shut the fuck up' as jey moves onto requesting the presence of his unruly children. "ya'll, get out here now!"

at that, roman scowls. "can't you go to them?" roman could go the rest of his life without being around jey's children, and having already had the displeasure of interacting with them twice today thus far, he's reached his max.

jey starts to offer a rebuttal, reminding his cousin that it was roman who wanted to have the meeting at someone's place other than his. something about the twins being 'destructive'.

it's not like they didn't pay for the repairs on the maserati.

roman grabs his own beer, downing the rest as one by one, the result of jey not being smart enough to use a condom—all four times—come running out, mischief written all over their faces.

but, jey is more focused on the black eye on one of his kids, the matted hair of another, and the small cut on the eyebrow on a third kid.

"what the hell done happened to ya'll?" he doesn't wait for a reply, reminding them, "jordan, were you trying to kill josiah again?"

jordan looks just as unremorseful as he feels, defending, "he deserved it!"

at that, roman actually agrees. out of all of jey's wild offspring, josiah has always been the most irritating.

he probably had it coming.

"how many times i gotta tell ya'll? you can only beat each other up to fight, not to kill!" jey blows out a breath, hands over his face. he sounds as exasperated as roman feels. maybe it's worth whatever destruction his cousins cause to just have meetings at his house. that's not as taxing as being around this shit.

journee, a little nicki in training, just has to chime in, pointing like the snitch she is, "he was being a little bitch, daddy!"

"aye!" jey interrupts, voice firm. "what i tell ya'll about all that goddamn cussing?" he doesn't wait for a reply, scolding them yet again, "stop using all that fuckin' language in my motherfuckin' house!"

one of the kids rolls their eyes, the second oldest boy, roman guesses, is quick with a smartass reply. "mama said we ain't gotta listen to you."

"she said what?"

jimmy shakes his head, murmuring to roman as he gazes at the uncovered pool, the sun reflecting off the lights at the bottom. "here we go...."

"she said you a bit—"

"that's enough!" jey marches over to the table, snatching his phone and mumbling to roman and his twin about being 'right back.' the last thing that's heard is jey laying into nicki, "who the hell you think you are telling my kids—what was that? bitch, i know you not with ole' dude again! man, i'll kill his ass and make you watch!"

the kids, thankfully, disperse back into the house.

roman is ready to pass on his parting words to jimmy and be the fuck gone. the desire for a good workout—or fucking—growing by the second. he might have to hit up sasha. sam was on that shit last time, and he's already in a foul mood.

but, a tug on his sleeve prevents him from doing that, roman's disdain painted over his handsome face. "what?" he asks, gruffly.

jayla rolls her brown eyes and only extends out her open palm. "my birthday is next month."

"and?" roman's more likely to wish jey's youngest daughter a 'happy accidental existence' day than 'happy birthday.'

however, she's undeterred, reminding, "my money?"

that, however, makes roman chuckle. he'd almost forgotten that out the four, she happens to be his favorite unfavorite. he don't like none of him, but she's not as intolerable as the rest. and her hustle is impressive.

pulling out his wallet, he asks, "how old you turning? 5?"

"i'm turning 7, uncle roman." she scoffs, maybe to herself, or him. "old people...."

at that, roman pauses, "you want the money or what, kid?"

she looks down, sheepishly, as roman counts out three hundred dollar bills, laying them in her waiting hand. "there. now don't bother me again until next year."

it's an easy request for the almost 7 year old, her eyes wide as she imagines all the robux she'll be able to get.

stuffing the money into her pocket, she nods and offers appreciation. "good to see you, uncle roman." roman shakes his head as jayla moves over to jimmy. "uncle jimmy....."

however, jimmy is not roman. "girl, i ain't got no money."

jayla stays true to her no filter nature. "so you're a broke ass?"

at that, roman turns his head. he actually has to hold back his smile. yeah, jayla might most definitely become his favorite at some point.

"broke ass?" jimmy, of course, fails to see that he's being baited by a damn second grader and yanks out his wallet, counting out a stack of hundreds and giving it to her. "how's that for broke ass?"

jayla looks like she just won the lottery, and at her age, she essentially just did. she doesn't bother with an expression of appreciation before dashing off with all her money.

and roman just watches as recognition dawns on jimmy's face, effectively ridding him of that goofy ass smile. "wait, that was my strip club money." he hops off the stool and goes after his niece. "get back here, you lil samoan wednesday!"

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

Schism

Summary: Combat boots :)

Pairing: Kappa x gn!Reader

Word Count: < 1k

Content Warnings: Degradation/Humiliation, It's Not BDSM With Them It's Consensual Violence, Petplay-ish, Allusions To Smut 18+!, Spit, Blood

A/N: This thing was prompted by this delightful post here! @chainsawgvtsfvck

Tagging: @starry-eyed-wild-child @blueberrypancakesworld

... sadly not Artie 🥲

@angelsanarchy Ash! Remember the screen caps you made for me last year? 🤩

Pure intention juxtaposed

Will set two lovers' souls in motion

Disintegrating as it goes

Testing our communication

- Schism By Tool

“Down.” A simple, brief command cutting through the atmosphere like an angled razor blade.

And before the last letter had bounced off the walls you went down on all fours like the obedient little lap dog you were and Kappa watched you, the expression on his face unmoved but a certain flicker in his half-lidded eyes gave him away; the pride he felt for having trained you so well glazing over his retina.

You put your cheek to the unloving concrete floor, cold cement against flushed skin.

“Now that's what I call a good mutt.” Kappa snarled, front teeth grazing over a slightly chapped bottom lip, flakey skin getting caught and torn off as the faint, metallic taste of blood slithered over a prodding tongue.

You remained silent, well aware and knowing that he preferred it that way. Don't talk unless you are being demanded to.

He titled his head and a strand of stringy black curls fell into his face like a tantalizing pendulum, fixating all your attention on him, unbothered by how he stepped towards you, the thick soles of wrinkly, worn out combat boots clinking against the floor.

“You just know that I like to make myself comfortable, don't you pet?”, You nodded, gaze transfixed on his face to read every little whim or change of mood immediately, “Yeah, you do.”

Your eyes didn't flutter shut as he raised his right foot, shoelaces dangling along your mouth before he pressed down harsh enough for your jaw to crunch, bone holding on to the socket for dear life - a little more and it would probably just slip out. Yet, you didn't wince or howl out, no, you took what was given to you and you took with gratefulness and decorum.

Kappa leaned down, eyeing you properly for a few breaths, testing if you'd break and beg him to stop applying so much pressure to your pretty face, sniffling that you'd make it up to him, apologizing and insisting that you'd blow him until your jaw went slack from that instead but this time you didn't, even as he tilted his ankle until your lips dropped agape, flesh being squished between cement and the bendable vinyl rubber of his boots. Not a single sound to be heard from your mouth. He felt himself getting hard just by thinking about your whimpered apologetic pleas.

“I'm in a benevolent mood today, pet.” Kappa commented on himself as he reduced the force on your jaw swiftly after, however, still keeping his boot firmly plastered to your cheek.

His eyes narrowed down in a pretentious play of concentration, slender fingers reaching for the bootstraps before he began tying them in meticulous artistry, hole for hole, looping the cords through before tightening them up. Saliva started trickling from the corner of your mouth and pulling around your cheek in a damp, tacky puddle.

“Look at how well you do that for me, mutt.” He truly was in a giving mood today, so much so that he adorned your face with a quickly reddening imprint of his sole, ridge for ridge welting up from brow down to your chin.

A barely even there, merely articulated Thank You slithered past your lips in a moment of complete subspace bliss as he was to turn away from you.

“Huh?” Kappa bellowed more than spoke, eyes widening and brows arching in distrust.

You stared at him, hoping that he would let it slip but there was no letting it pass of you failing on the last crucial meters to the finish line.

“The fuck was that, mutt? I know ‘m not hearing voices.” Teeth teared across his bottom lip anew, agitated and gnashing, wanting to sink into something.

Instead, in a literal knee jerk reaction, his leg kicked forward, the steel cap of his combat boots drilling into your ribcage; blunt force trauma inevitable and you whined out as the dull pain spread into thinner, more agonizing roots.

Your whole body twitched and jolted together, arms flailing to grab at your knees and pull them to your chest in an attempt to shield you from further assault.

“I'm sorry, sir. Please.” You sniffled between a snotty nose and an tearing eyes, not the physical pain but the emotional despair from your own failure pulling the wash of moisture from your tear ducts.

“Please what, bastard? HUH?”, In an erratic gesture, Kappa rolled his head from shoulder to shoulder, “Hou makin’ demands now?!”

You shook your head fervently, biting the very tip of your tongue to shut the fuck up.

“I better fucking hope so!” He snarled at you before his tongue pushed between bottom lip and a row of slightly crooked teeth, gathering an amalgamation of spit and blood before ejecting the milky pink mixture right into your face.

“This will have consequences.”

[twistedminutia]

Silver’s Sleeping Spells

(Contains spoilers for Book 7, part 5)

So, given that Silver’s origin and the source of his sleeping curse/blessing was recently revealed in the EN server, I wanted to give some of my own ideas and speculation on why he’s so sleepy.

The basic facts we know are these: Silver was blessed to sleep until someone who could love him came to care for him. He was asleep for about 400 years and woke up around when Lilia was passing by, and his cries alerted Lilia to his presence. Lilia adopted Silver after some emotional conflict and the rest is history. Silver suffers irresistible drowsiness in the present, despite stating he gets enough sleep, and it is implied, but not outright stated, to be related to the blessing.

Most of the fandom interprets it like this: Silver woke up because Lilia arrived and the spell recognized Lilia as someone who could love Silver. Silver’s current sleeping spells are the result of a few possibilities: either Lilia maintaining emotional distance from Silver, not truly recognizing Silver as his son on some level, or Lilia refusing to accept how much he does care for Silver. Regardless, the general consensus is that the spell broke for Lilia and is only lingering due to Lilia’s unresolved issues around Silver.

However, as we see in the newest part of Book 7, that is not how Lilia interprets these events. He, instead, attributes Silver’s waking to the spell wearing off after so much time. Now, Lilia has his own reasons for not believing his love could awaken Silver, despite it being able to hatch Malleus, so most of the fandom seems to consider him an unreliable narrator in this part. However, I would also like us to consider another possibility: Lilia is right.

Now, I don’t think this is necessarily what the story is going for, and I think it probably will be revealed that Lilia needs to admit his love for Silver to fix the sleeping issues, and that his love was enough to initially wake Silver. BUT I also think this is a fun thought experiment, so bear with me.

Consider it: Lilia is correct. Silver only woke up because, after four hundred years, the magic was failing. Silver’s sleeping spells are the result of the magic not being broken at all, instead of an incomplete break. Lilia loves Silver over time, but the spell doesn’t break because Lilia won’t allow himself to truly think of Silver as his son. Only when Lilia allows himself to think of Silver as his precious son and as someone he loves dearly and as someone worthy of Silver’s love in return will the spell break.

Evidence for this theory: Silver is, apparently, awake prior to Lilia entering the castle, as Silver’s crying is what draws Lilia in. This might indicate the spell being weak or already breaking prior to Lilia being there. Additionally, it would explain why Silver’s having sleeping spells even when the spell was supposedly already broken- it was never broken at all.

Evidence against this theory: Lilia is an unreliable narrator who consistently underestimates his ability to love others, so he would naturally attribute the spell breaking to something else. My theory is also a bit less neat than the one where Lilia was partially able to break the spell, and potentially less thematically appropriate.

I hope this wild ramble was somewhat interesting. I think it’s just fun to consider the possibility that Lilia was CORRECT when he stated the spell broke because of time passing.

[lanayrutower]

this keeps me up at night btw.

[bonetrousledbones]

do u ever think about how crazy it is that undertale came out with its insane amount of unambiguously queer characters in fucking 2015

[hauntingjasper]

We are all afraid of something...

I wonder what Prince Gumball's biggest fear would be?

There's an episode (Five short tables I think) where it shows that he's afraid of dying alone/his own mortality to some extent. I imagine that because he's long-lived and most likely has watched many people die before him, he's scared that there won't be anyone else by *his* side when it's his turn. There's no way of knowing when or how, he wouldn't be ready for it, so that's probably double scarier for him. He's an anxious fella

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Bruh it's been such a bad day for Mexicans 😭😭😭

[loverboybrightsideghost]

is anyone else getting the carcar brainworms about this or is it just me

[linagram]

all bday illustrations! i feel like something changed in my art style but it's probably just the lineart (+ shading and lighting)

[orcelito]

Shino raising his dead friends and friend's dog from the dead with the power of bugs as one friend's cousin watches [not clickbait]