#shes honestly sank so low

[mypoisonedvine]

Prompt 18 with Angus Tully it’s giving best friend’s creepy brother or something lol

i knew it was only a matter of time before i wrote something a little darker with angus >:)

18: "it's not what it looks like!" "is that a picture of me?!"

warnings: dubcon (technically) sexual content 18+ ONLY!!!, male masturbation, perv!angus, degradation kink (but not what you're thinking hehe), sliiiiiightly dom!reader??

"Oh shit," you realized as you padded your pockets, "I forgot my lighter at home. Can I borrow yours?"

"Sure," Amelia offered, "but I think my brother had it last."

You sighed, not really wanting to deal with him-- he was always... looming, which you didn't appreciate-- but figured it would be quick enough to run upstairs and snatch it out of his room. "I'll go get it," you decided, "you go ahead and I'll catch up with you."

"Okay, see you there!" she agreed, slipping out the front door as you bounded up the stairs and hung your purse over the top banister quickly.

Honestly, you didn't even think about knocking before you barged in. You figured he was reading, if he was even in there-- you hadn't seen him since you first got here and he disappeared. But, it turns out he was pretty busy...

You caught him with his cock in his hand, hunched over a polaroid in his bed; he looked up at you with wide eyes as you burst in, falling back into the sheets, trying desperately to cover himself as he gasped and coughed. "Wh-what the fuck?!" he blurted out.

Before you could decide if you should laugh, or apologize, or just run away, your gaze fell down to the polaroid-- his dramatic physical reaction and pulling the sheet up quickly over himself had launched it right in front of your feet. Your eyes wide when you saw it, and you quickly snatched it off the ground as he jumped up; he looked like he might get up to take it from you, until he seemed to remember that would leave him exposed and so he sank back into the bed helplessly.

"It's not what it looks like!" he tried hastily to explain as you looked at the image in your hand.

"Is this a picture of me?!" you realized-- it wasn't a question, you knew. It was obviously you... even if it was taken from behind. You'd recognize your own swimsuit anywhere.

"Fuck, I-- um--" he stammered, "that's-- I-I just found that--"

"You took this!" you accused. "This was at Amelia's pool party!"

"I-- um--" he choked.

"Oh my god, you're such a creep!" you spat. "You took this picture and you get off to it?! I didn't even know you took this-- I didn't know you-- you're a fucking pervert!"

"Don't talk like that," he whined-- at first you assumed it was because his feelings were hurt, but you could see his face getting redder, and your stomach twisted as you realized...

"Jesus," you groaned, "is this turning you on?"

"U-uh," he grumbled, but even that sounded a bit like a low moan, and you smirked a little as you stepped further into the room.

"You're actually disgusting," you informed him, though the tone of your voice changed a bit. "I knew you were weird, but this? Taking stalker pictures from the bushes... that's where you were, right? Or maybe behind the fence? Were you jerking off then, too?"

"N-no," he denied nervously, watching you come closer, "I... I waited until I got back to my room, at least..."

"And what did you think about?" you wondered with a smirk. "You thought about getting your jizz all over my bikini, right? That's so gross."

"Fuck," he hissed through his teeth-- you thought he looked pretty cute like this: turned on, but a little terrified.

"And just now, looking at your little picture," you cooed, crossing your arms, "were you gonna come all over it? Or try to save it so you can use it whenever you want?"

"Stop," he pleaded, "I-- I might-- I was so close--"

"You wanted to get caught," you decided, seeing his eyes get even wider as you looked down at him tangled up in those sheets (which didn't do a whole lot to hide his throbbing erection, by the way). "You wanted me to come in here and see you, you wanted me to know what a sick little freak you are--"

"God, I'm--" he warned with a whine, but you kept going.

"You wanted me to tell you how dirty and bad you are," you scolded with a purr, "'cause you're a pathetic, desperate perv!"

"Fuck!" he whimpered, shuddering under the thin sheet, and you watched with sick delight as a wet patch began to form on the fabric, growing with each sudden flex of his hips.

"Wow," you grinned, "you came just from that--"

"I-I was really close already!" he defended, as if that were enough of an excuse: as if being nearly finished jerking off to a picture of you was something to be proud of.

"I'll keep this," you decided as you slipped the polaroid in your back pocket, seeing him open his mouth in protest only to shut it. "You're just gonna have to stick to your imagination next time, Angus... I'm sure it's plenty creative."

You turned and were nearly out the door when he spoke up: "W-wait!"

You looked over your shoulder back at him, noticing the way his eyes drifted over you.

"You could... stay longer," he offered-- like you were leaving because you thought he wanted you out. You laughed and rolled your eyes.

"I told your sister I'd meet her at the record store," you explained. "You think I wanna sit around with you and, what, blow you or something?"

His throat caught and he looked beautifully flustered. "W-well, I dunno, I just--"

"Whatever, loser," you scoffed, about to leave again.

"Y-you should give me something," he decided, surprising you with his confidence, "since you're taking my picture."

"This is a picture of me," you reminded him, "I should have it."

"But still--"

You interrupted him with an annoyed groan, and he shut up quick when you started to unbutton your shirt. "Okay," you relented, "I'll give you five seconds. Is that enough?"

He didn't answer, just watched your hands intently, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

You opened your shirt enough to expose your bra, and quickly pulled it down to give him a good look at your tits. He sighed, hand wrapping around his cock under the sheets again, and you frowned as you realized he was going to get himself off again so soon after coming. Was he really that insatiable?

You counted to five in your head before pulling your bra back up and starting to re-button your shirt. "Was that long enough for you to remember?" you asked, annoyed.

"Yeah," he breathed, "don't think I could forget if I tried."

"Great," you announced sarcastically before you finally left, grabbing your purse again and quickly getting downstairs and out the door again.

It didn't take you all that long to catch up with Amelia, even though you were already breathless before you started jogging. She was only a few blocks down, and she smiled when she saw you.

"Did you get the lighter?" she asked as you walked side-by-side with her.

"No, he lost it," you shrugged, making her groan in frustration.

"Oh my god, why does my brother have to be such a dweeb?" she wondered.

"I don't know," you laughed, "I think he's kind of entertaining."

[marypaol]

Fake Hatred

Draco x Fem!Reader

Summary: Draco and Reader hate each other. Everybody knows it, even Draco’s friends. But they have suspicions and their gut feelings aren’t wrong.

Warnings: “Enemies” to lovers, bets, mentions of labeling someone “Princess” and “Prince”, one swear/bad word, jealous Pansy, little crying, anger, protectiveness from Draco.

Note: I honestly kinda hate it, but it was requested and/so I hope it’s satisfactory. :/

Written for: @amayaaaxx

Masterlist

Request Requirements

The voices were muffled, purposely speaking low to not be heard. Their meeting and conversation was hushed to the minimum volume, caution constantly running through their veins so they wouldn’t get caught.

“I bet ya; ten gallons.”

A scoff was heard. “Ten gallons? That’s it? Make it twenty.”

There was a moment of silence so we can only assume the other person shook or nodded their head.

“Come on! We’re talking about the Slytherin Prince and Princess-If I’m right on this I gotta get a better reward.”

Another scoff. “Fine. But I won’t have to worry about it since I know I’m right in this.”

Yet another moment of silence, meaning another head movement of their choice.

“Whatever you say, I know I’m right.”

“Eh? How ‘bout we make this really interesting?”

The person chuckled, and that’s when we can put names to the voices, since that particular chuckle was oh so recognizable. It was Crabbe and Blaise. And Crabbe was the one who laughed.

“What? You already got money involved I don’t know how it can get any better.”

Blaise didn’t verbally respond, so it gave the impression he made a facial expression; a smirk, if you will.

“How ‘bout we give him, ya know, a little push?”

Crabbe made a loud reaction and Blaise was quick to shush, yet another silent moment to tell us that they were looking left and right for any sign of someone being there.

Once they were giving the reassurance that there was no evident difference in the air, they continued.

“Be quiet, loud mouth. Make a sound that loud again and someone will for sure be right at the end of the corridor.”

Blaise was speaking through clenched teeth, voice barely leaving his mouth.

Crabbe let out a sound of annoyance. “Not my fault you picked the most echoey one out of all the school.”

There was a slapping sound then, like Blaise smacked Crabbe’s shoulder. (The slap was followed by a quiet whine of protest.)

“Whatever-anyway, what do ya think? Mm?”

Crabbe thought for a moment. “Nah; let’s drop signs to the princess.”

“Signs of what?”

“Do I really have to spell it out for ya? That he likes her, duh.”

After a moment Blaise made a clicking sound with his tongue as a sign of agreement. “Not bad, Crabbe. Not bad at all.”

The discussion went back and forth on a plan once one of the two plans was favored, but what they didn’t know was that the person Malfoy supposedly had an interest in was right behind the wall they were leaning on, knowing everything they said. She heard enough, leaving her hiding place with a soft smirk on her face.

“Where have you been?”

Although the voice held annoyance and frustration for Pansy’s eye, she heard concern and worry laced through it like a knitted clothing item.

Her heart softly fluttered at his concern but scoffed nonetheless.

“Like you care.” She snapped back instead.

Pansy rolled her eyes at the usual encounter between the two Slytherins.

“Gosh, won’t you two sort it out? Merlin’s sake.”

“Shut up Parkinson.” Malfoy barked and she instantly sank in her seat like she usually does when Draco orders her.

“Whatever,” Pansy muttered, trying to sound like Malfoy’s remark didn’t affect her. “I’m gonna go find the guys so they can study with us. I just know they won’t do it later on their own.”

Pansy left with a roll of her eyes, robes swooping behind her as she left the Common Room.

As soon as Pansy’s robes were out of sight, his pale fingers laced with the girl’s next to him under the table on his knee.

“Blaise? Crabbe?”

The sound of hushed talking was heard despite her call out to the student behind the door Pansy was, so she turned around the corner to find the two boys whispering among themselves. She crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“What are you two morons murmuring about?”

The two boys stopped talking immediately at the third voice, both heads snapping in her direction as if they just got caught with their hands in a cookie jar.

“Nothing.” Crabbe said, clearly lying.

Pansy again rolled her eyes for the millionth time that day.

“Whatever. We have to go study for Snape’s test- we have to get back before they kill each other.”

Pansy turned around to head back to the Common Room so she didn’t see the smirk they exchanged before they followed her.

“I see you guys have already started studying.”

The teasing tone used came from Crabbe, his lips turned into a smirk as well as Blaise’s when they saw what was in front of them.

Draco and the girl were holding hands on the table, but once they heard another presence the fingers separated at the speed of lightning.

Pansy’s face held an otherwise expression, her mouth agape and eyes sightly glazed with tears.

“What the absolute hell?” She barked, pointing at them with disgust written all over her face.

“Yeah, what she said.” Blaise joined in one the teasing, chuckling lightly at Pansy’s reaction.

“Since when did this become any of you guys’ business?” Draco snapped suddenly.

The two boys held up their hands on defense, but Pansy wasn’t having it.

“I could treat you better, Dray. Better than whatever that is.” She said, gesturing to the poor girl sitting at the table, her lips turned downward in a small frown at the other Slytherin’s words.

“Snap that stupid mouth shut, it never knows when to.” Draco ordered, gripping the girl’s hand again once he angrily packed their books together in their bags. He grabbed them in his hand, swooping them over his shoulder, eyes glaring upon them.

“Now, if you guys don’t mind, which I don’t care if you do, we’re gonna go study in some peace and quiet without all you three nagging about what you think is your business.”

He lead the girl out without another word, fingers laced together.

Pansy scoffed despite the tears in her eyes. She walked away quickly, hands coming up to her face when she did so.

“So much for the signs.” Crabbe said.

Blaise smacked his arm for the second time that day in response.

“Shut up, Crabbe.”

@hypnos-dreams

@youreyesareasprettyasstars

@girlunknownsblog

@buddhaslover14

@aestheticxnight

@payoncestarbuckslover

Since you guys liked the request post :)

[creedslove]

HEARTLESS 💔 - PART SIX

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x f!reader

Summary: your weekend on the ranch continues, as Wyatt enjoys every single aspect of it, the tension between you and Jack increases

(this is the sixth part of the HEARTLESS 💔 series)

• PART ONE| PART TWO| PART THREE| PART FOUR| PART FIVE

Warnings: asshole!jack, angst, hurt, fluff (because Wyatt is soooo cute), mom!reader

A/N: oh besties, I don't know what to do to Jack honestly. He just can't get one single thing right. He opens his heart, only to make things wrong again, I love him, but it's getting tiring

2.4k words

Jack gripped his cheek as it burned and looked at you in pure shock and awe. He had no idea a frail little thing like yourself - as he envisioned you when it came to physical confrontation - but he'd be damned as your hand was heavy. You panted heavily as you wiped your lips and groaned 

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Jack?" You roared at him, tears filling your eyes as you felt yourself anxious and hurt, that was just how little he thought of you: that he would offer you shelter for the weekend in exchange of fucking you. Over your dead body. 

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? I kissed you, it was an act of affection and you slapped me? Fuck you!" 

"No, fuck you, Jack Daniels because you have been treating me like shit ever since you walked back into my life, you make sure to tell me every single time you hate me, you even told me to my face you never loved me, so now you think I'll let you kiss me just because you probably got a little horny? Why don't you leave $50 on the nightstand so I can have the full hooker experience?" You hissed, seeing he was angry at your refusal, even if he had no right to be angry. 

Jack placed his hand on his hips and sighed deeply licking his lips softly and feeling a pang on his chest as they tasted like you 

"I was trying to do something nice to you, figured you deserved some attention, after all pregnancy was rough on you, and it's not every guy who's gonna look at you now" he regretted his words as soon as they came out of his lips, he could tell he went too far and the worst was that it wasn't even true, he just wanted to hurt you because you hurt his pride and ego by refusing him. 

You couldn't believe his words, he was such a pig, and you didn't even think before raising your hand and aiming for his cheek once more, you knew Jack deserved more than that, but you had never thrown a punch and you didn't even know if you could do it correctly, but he was faster catching your fist before you could hit him. 

"Careful sugar, you are becoming a feisty little bit-" 

"Don't call me a bitch, you wouldn't do that to your late wife, would you? Why are you doing this to me?" You raised your voice, not hiding all the hurt in it as he softened up for a while, letting go of your arm 

"Don't talk about her, Y/N" he warned "you know damn well why I wouldn't call her that…" his tone was low but it carried so much anger and hurt, he knew he had crossed the line with you, but he thought you'd come back to your senses instead of dragging his wife into the middle of it. 

"Yeah? Then go back to your grieving and leave me and my son alone" you spat at him and rushed out of the bedroom, finding Wyatt wandering through the home mesmerized. To him it was a big adventure and he felt the need to explore, he couldn't wait to start playing and didn't understand why his mommy and the cowboy were taking too long, so when he saw his mommy, his face lit up, being too caught up in his innocent excitement to see how sad she was 

"Can we pway mommy?" He asked adorably and giggled as she picked him up, so happy to finally be able to go outside as you crossed the big living room and went out the door, but Wyatt frowned as soon as he realized they were heading towards the car, and not the green fields. His little heart sank as he didn't want to go home just yet, he wanted to play with his friend cowboy. 

"Mommy no go home, pwease" he asked in a whimper but you didn't seem to have listened, so he tried again, louder this time, asking you not to go home. You didn't say anything else, expecting him to calm down as your son had always been such a calm and sweet child but when he started crying and begging you to stay, you didn't know what was happening to your sweet Wyatt, he was just having a meltdown in your arms, shaking his head and bawling as he didn't want to leave. If only he was a little older and you could explain him why you two shouldn't stay for any other minute at that house. 

"Cowboy, pwease!!!" Wyatt wailed and felt a tiny hope in his chest as Jack rushed outside immediately "don't wet mommy take me, pwease" he cried and you could only feel Jack taking your son into his arm.

You looked back at him with so much anger and you were willing to fight for your son, but the way he wrapped his arms around his father's neck and breathed a sigh of relief to be away from you shattered your heart. 

Of course Wyatt preferred his dad. 

You sniffed as you looked at them "come with mommy, my love" you extended your arms at him but Wyatt turned away, hiding his face from you just like he did when he didn't like someone.

You bit your lips as you felt so hurt and rejected at that moment, you knew it wasn't his fault, he was a toddler, he didn't know the context of that situation and especially not the weight of his actions. 

"Alright then" you whispered and looked down, walking towards the stable at a fast pace, there was at least one creature that wouldn't treat you badly in that place. 

Helen was deeply upset to have witnessed the scene, she hated to see you so heartbroken and also Wyatt crying like that and she was also sure it had all to do with Jack. She wished she could yell at him, grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he got into his senses, but unfortunately she couldn't. He was a grown man even if he didn't act like one, he should be responsible for his actions.

She walked behind him, smiling at Wyatt and wiping his tears, "come see the dogs with me, they love to be petted" Helen offered, intending to take him to the kitchen first and get him a glass of water so he could calm down. Jack immediately got the hint and rubbed his son's back gently, up and down "it's okay Wyatt, mommy's just a little stressed, let's watch the dogs and other animals before we find her? I ain't letting you go home today buddy, you and mama are staying the whole weekend, got it?" He assured his son, who smiled softly and snuggled him, feeling so comfortable and safe in his arms.

                         •••

You spent a long time in the stables, not sure how long exactly but it was definitely hours, judging by how famished you felt as you fed those lovely animals. You've always loved horses, always seeing them in movies, on TV and on the internet, and you always liked what they looked like and how strong and yet gentle they could be; your passion for them really sprung when you started dating Jack and he introduced you to his horses. You remembered being dumbfounded to know he actually owned horses and it also made you come to the realization he had money, not that his overall lifestyle in the city and his ranch weren't enough evidence of it, but you've always heard horses were really expensive to own and take care of, and if there was something you couldn't accuse Jack Daniels of, was not taking care of his horses. 

He was so gentle with them, patient, and he showed you the best way to approach and feed them and of course, brush them. And once he realized you loved doing such things, he let you do it. You did it almost every day, until Jack came home with a young mare he bought at a very cheap price because the owner was going to put her down, as she had been born with a problem on the hoof which caused her pain to run and she absolutely refused her. He was a softie at heart and bought her, knowing maybe you would like her. 

And you fell in love with her beautiful gray fur and how sweet she was, so Jack was amused when you named her Silver Pony - like his jet. 

You would spend so long with Silver Pony, telling her everything about your life and about your relationship with Jack. She was like a friend to you - and you addressed her with human pronouns, because she meant so much to you. And she seemed to understand you too, she showered you with affection and so much understanding coming from her sweet eyes. Even before you found out Wyatt was nothing more than a small bean inside of you, Silver Pony would greet you by gently rubbing her face against your womb, sniffing it gently and making you giggle. 

The way you loved that horse, made Jack fall in love with you even more at the time you were together and that was why he knew you'd rush to your old friend after what happened. So he took Wyatt on a tour through the ranch, not without gifting him a stetson hat specially made for his son first and then leaving the stables for last, so you would have enough time to see Silver Pony and spend time with her until you were calm. In the meantime, Jack's heart melted at how cute his son, Wyatt, was the happiest he'd ever seen, watching the animals and being able to touch some of them. He liked chirping at the birds and giggled when he saw chicken because he thought they were so funny. 

Then, Helen met them near the lake with a basket full of sandwiches and other yummy things. After what she'd witnessed, she thought it was better to replace lunch for a picnic and hoped maybe you would join them for dinner, as she had prepared your favorite. 

As Wyatt chewed his sandwich calmly he looked up at Jack with sad little eyes "whewe's mommy? I miss mommy, cowboy" Jack's heart sank at his son's puppy eyes and wiped the crumbles from his hand before ruffing his hair "mommy is spending time with a special friend of hers, she's by the stable I'm sure and I'm also sure you'll love mommy's friend" he said with a sweet smile and could feel Helen's burning gaze on him. If Jack were the kind of man to blush, he would be blushing right now. Wyatt came closer and leaned his body against Jack's side, sighing softly.

"You know, your mommy was my… friend… and she used to live here with me for a few years, she was a lot of fun and I miss her" he said "but I was mean to her and even when I try to be nice to her, I end up being mean" 

He frowned softly and looked up at him 

"Why mean? Wyatt no wike mean" he said and waited for an answer as Jack swallowed 

"Sometimes we behave bad even when we don't want to, right?" He watched as his son nodded "but your mama is a wonderful woman, and I love her just as I love you, Wyatt" the boy wrapped his small arms around the cowboy's big body and snuggled him tight "I wove you too cowboy" he said innocently and Helen teared up as she witnessed the moment, she wished so hard you could be there to see that scene and hear Jack's honest words, it was a heartfelt moment and she felt upset you had missed it. 

Jack hugged Wyatt tight and kissed the top of his head, handing him his small stetson which he put it on excitedly and watched as Jack gathered the food and placed it back inside the basket "why don't we take these to the stables and have another picnic with mommy? She's probably hungry too" he suggested and saw as Wyatt nodded excitedly and quickly helped the cowboy to gather the food. 

You were stroking Silver Pony's face as she stood next to you and smiled sadly the moment you spotted Jack and Wyatt walking side by side. You could see they were so similar and especially with the stupid hat on, even if your son looked too cute, it was still a reminder of who his father was. 

When Wyatt saw you and the mare, he rushed to you, opening his arms and throwing himself into your arms "mommy!!!" He squealed and looked at you "I sowy mommy, I didn't want to make you cwy" Your heart shattered at how sweet your son was and you only held him tight, caressing his soft cheek and shook your head "I know baby, it's okay, and mommy is also sorry she made you cry" you said and kissed his forehead, loving how welcoming his small embrace was. 

Jack shyly cleared his throat and showed you the basket 

"We brought you some food, sug- I mean, Y/N" he opened it and began taking out the sandwiches, bottles of juice and cake "you must be hungry" he added hesitantly and you nodded "thank you" you said politely and grabbed a sandwich, taking a big bite out of it and Jack felt another ounce of guilt for making you starve like that, though you barely looked at him, instead you smiled at your son "honey, mommy wants you to meet Silver Pony" you told him and got up, taking his small hand and guiding him to the beautiful mare. Wyatt was mesmerized and jumped in excitement, he couldn't believe how beautiful and nice that horse was to him and immediately hugged her

"I wove you, I wove you, I wove you" he squealed at Silver Pony, never wanting to let go of her. 

Jack also got up, taking a few steps closer and stood next to you 

"Y/N, I want to talk to you… I want to apologize, really apologize, I don't know if there will ever be a forgiveness for leaving you and our son, and even if it did, I know I don't deserve it, but I do want to apologize for being so cruel to you… maybe after Wyatt goes to bed you could talk to me?" He asked, as you swallowed and looked at him "I spent the whole day crying because you can't go by ten minutes without offending me, Jack… do you think you can just give me your puppy eyes and I'll forgive you? Don't try to fix things, you don't care about me, you never loved me, you told me that yourself, just let me be and make it through this weekend so I can go back home with my son" you told him and walked towards Wyatt, the two of you showering Silver Pony in love and affection, as Jack watched the two of you at a small distance but feeling a complete outcast from your lives.

____

A/N: I don't know about you besties, but my heart is a little broken now 💔

[clangenrising]

Month 10 - Leafbare

This leafbare was turning out to be a grim one. Yarrowshade was still trying to keep his spirit up, but it only got harder and harder. Goldenstar had been distraught after Scorchplume’s abduction and he had tried to be there for her but it had honestly been too close for comfort.

“I didn’t get to tell her I love her!” she had wailed into his side, “I just- I can’t believe she’s gone!” and he hadn’t been able to avoid his own, similar laments. He hadn’t been able to say any of the things he wanted to Nightfrost. He hadn’t been able to grapple with the fact that she was never coming home. Every day he would wake in the morning and look for her only to die a little again when he remembered she was gone. 

He honestly had very little memory of consoling Goldenstar. It seemed he had slipped into some kind of daze that had only broken when he woke up the next morning. Goldenstar had apologized but he had laughed her off and assured her it was fine. They hadn’t talked much since then, in fact, if it weren’t for Floodpaw, he had a feeling she might have disappeared from Clan life entirely. 

So, once again, he had focused on being there for Barleypaw. Being around her was a lot easier than being around other people. She still laughed at his jokes, she didn’t stare at him with pity like everyone else, and besides, he loved to see her smile. It made everything feel easier. No matter how helpless he felt, he could do one thing and that was make her life better. 

“I can’t believe we still haven’t found anything yet,” she complained as their hunting trip started to stretch into the evening. The sun was starting to hang low in the sky, turning the snow orange, and they hadn’t caught a single thing. Maybe that was his fault for taking them into the southern side of the territory, but he was worried about over-hunting the other areas and he wanted her to get more familiar with all of RisingClan’s land. 

“I’m sure we’ll find something, Barley-girl,” he said, trying to sound unbothered. “Didn’t Sparrowpaw say there were rabbits up this way?”

“That was on EarthClan’s land,” she said, “remember?” Yarrowshade winced. How could he forget? The incident had caused friction between the two Clans that was extremely poorly timed. He was honestly surprised that Russetfrond hadn’t punished Sparrowpaw more harshly for it. The rogues had been stealing Clan prey but so far nothing else had happened and Orangestar had visited to tell Goldenstar that she wasn’t sure she could continue to support the alliance at the upcoming gathering. Luckily, Sagetooth had been helping EarthClan in Stormwhisper’s absence and that appeared to be enough to keep the alliance intact for now. 

“Oh, duh!” he exclaimed, “Next thing you know, I’ll forget how to walk!” Dramatically, he flopped over on top of her, and she squealed in delight. 

“Stop it!” she laughed, pushing against him with her little paws and he rolled back onto his feet with a chuckle. “You’re so silly.” 

“Yeah,” he grinned, “but you like it.” 

She giggled and adjusted her feathers, replacing one that had fallen out of her makeshift mane. “Yeah…” 

“Alright, come on,” he purred, “last one to find a catch is a rotten egg.” She laughed and they set out even further, looking for any sign of prey among the dry, dead grass. Yarrowshade quizzed her on the different kinds of stalking techniques, what challenges different kinds of prey presented, and even all the different birds she could name. He was enjoying himself so much, he almost didn’t spot a pair of cats moving through the grass ahead of them. 

He caught them out of the corner of his eye then stopped and looked at them more clearly, stretching out a paw to stop Barleypaw as well. “Hold on,” he whispered, “There’s city cats over there.” Barleypaw gasped and crouched down to hide. He sank into his haunches as well, relying on his stripes to hide him among the grass as he stared at them. 

Both cats wore kittypet collars. They strolled side by side, laughing and talking between themselves without a care in the world. They were farther from the border than any city cats had been found before. Yarrowshade shifted his weight uncomfortably. This was not good.

“Barley,” he breathed, “I need you to go very carefully and quietly back to camp and get Russetfrond or Goldenstar, okay?”

“On my own?” she asked, big ears trembling. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m going to try and distract the cats until you get back, okay? You’re gonna do great, just pretend this is a hunting assessment. I know you can do it.” 

“Okay,” she nodded. After a moment she started to creep backwards then turned and slunk into the grass. Confident that she was safely on her way, he started to approach the kittypets, stealthily at first then slowly rising out of his crouch to raise his tail in greeting. One of the kittypets, a brown and white tabby tom, spotted him before the other did and muttered something to get his companion, a white tom with a black cap and saddle, to look in his direction. 

“Hello there, strangers,” Yarrowshade called, “What brings you all the way out here?” 

The white and black tom squinted at him darkly and said, “Just walking around. None of your business.” 

Yarrowshade already felt anger building up inside him. “Well, it kind of is. Don’t know if you noticed, but you crossed into RisingClan territory a while back.” He was pretty certain that they had noticed but was doing his best to be diplomatic about it. 

“Are you calling us stupid?” the tabby asked, squaring his shoulders with a glare. 

Great, Yarrowshade thought, so much for that approach. 

“Not at all,” he said, “Just trying to give you the benefit of the doubt.” 

“Well, good for you,” said the bicolor tom. “You can run along now.” The tabby chuckled and nodded in agreement. Yarrowshade grit his teeth.

“My name’s Yarrowshade,” he said, trying to stay friendly, “What can I call you?” 

“Are you thick?” the tabby snapped, rolling his eyes. “He said get lost.” 

Yarrowshade couldn’t help himself. “Actually, he said I could run along. That’s different.” 

The tabby gave a low, building growl as his hackles started to rise. “Listen, wise guy, we were just minding our business. You should learn to do the same.” 

Yarrowshade felt his own fur bristling in kind. “You are my business if you’re on RisingClan territory. If you want me to leave you alone, you should go back to the city.” 

“You don’t get to tell us what to do!” the tabby hissed as he gave a warning lunge. Yarrowshade tensed, moving back instinctively as he sized the tom up. He was younger, probably a couple years old, but still strong looking. The white and black tom was closer to his age and seemingly unmoved by the interaction, staring coldly back at him with his ice chip eyes. 

When Yarrowshade gave ground, the tabby laughed and seemed to puff up with pride. “Scared, wild cat?” he asked, tail lashing expectantly. “Some savage you are.” He glanced backward at his companion who remained stoic.

Yarrowshade bared his teeth and said, “You would know about savages. I’ve seen what you do to cats.” 

“Yeah?” the tabby asked, prowling closer, a threat. 

“Yeah,” Yarrowshade glared, matching his posture and slowly starting to circle with him. “I’ve seen how you tear them up inside, leave them broken.” He thought of Aldertail and her eternal jumpiness, of Scorch and her compulsive obfuscation. If it hadn’t been for cats like these two, maybe he and Scorch wouldn’t have been fighting. Maybe she wouldn’t have gone into that trap to spite Goldenstar. Maybe-

The tabby laughed at his words and shot Yarrowshade the filthiest smirk he’d ever seen. Chest puffed out he said, “You’ve seen it, have you? Didn’t realize you wild cats were picking up our sloppy seconds.” Yarrowshade frowned in confusion for a beat before realization dawned on him and he let out a disgusted noise at the vile innuendo.

“What is wrong with you?” he asked, reeling back. The tabby chuckled again and even the other tom huffed a laugh under his breath. Yarrowshade’s blood was boiling. All thoughts of stalling the two were drowned out by the need to make them pay. Before the tabby could get another word in, he ducked low and lunged, eyes locked on the tom’s soft neck. Teeth bared, he went to strike, imagining hot blood pouring over his muzzle like it had when he saved Branchbark from that fox. A good warrior didn’t need to kill to win his battles, but maybe he wasn’t a good warrior. A good warrior would have been able to save his Clanmates. He would just have to settle for avenging them.

Movement flashed in the corner of his vision and, like a serpent, the bicolor tom sprang into action, a heavy paw striking Yarrowshade hard across the forehead. Dazed, he stumbled sideways, momentum lost. The tom pressed his advantage and slashed his claws through Yarrowshade’s ear, then across his muzzle in the other direction. 

“Get him, Oreo!” the tabby jeered. Yarrowshade pivoted to face his attacker as he dropped into a defensive crouch. His eyes were watering from the strike to his nose, but he could still see the outline of Oreo’s ears against the bright orange sky. His claws flashed in a series of swipes. None of them connected, but they kept the kittypet at bay long enough for him to blink the tears from his eyes. 

“Stay down,” Oreo snarled, arched up on his toes. 

Yarrowshade wasn’t thinking properly and the command immediately galvanized him into doing the exact opposite. He darted forward, staying low, and snapped at Oreo’s paws. Teeth caught flesh and Oreo hissed, rearing upward. Then, he slammed back down, bringing his weight onto Yarrowshade’s head again. The warrior crumpled into the ground as his vision blurred and his ears rang. He tried to roll sideways, out of harm, but teeth sank into his fur and pulled. It seemed the tabby had taken the opportunity to get a hit of his own in.

The tom tugged at Yarrowshade’s neck, near the shoulder, and he cried out in pain. Luckily, the bite had only caught his loose skin but that didn’t stop it from hurting like the Dark Forest. He whirled his hindquarters around to kick at the tabby and his claws caught something fleshy. The tabby hissed and pulled backwards and Yarrowshade crowed triumphantly. 

The victory was short-lived. Oreo reared up again and brought his paws down on Yarrowshade’s ribs hard. His breath evacuated his chest in a wheeze and before he could suck it back in, Oreo reared up and bashed his ribs again. Something primal in Yarrowshade’s body screamed at him. He was in trouble. 

“You think you can mess with us?!” the tabby spat, swatting roughly at his head. “I’ll show you how broken we can leave someone!” Yarrowshade scrambled backwards, unable to see and out of balance. As he withdrew, the tabby’s claws snagged his lower lip and tore and Oreo got a good swipe on his shoulder, tearing out a chunk of fur. Blood dripped down his face. The two city cats loomed closer in the blazing light of the sunset.

Yarrowshade growled a warning but it was an empty threat. If they kept on him like that, there wasn’t much he could do. At least I’ll get to see Nightfrost again, he thought briefly but immediately banished the thought. No, Barleypaw needed him. Goldenstar needed him. The whole Clan needed him! He tried to weigh his options in the brief respite and none of them were great. He knew the territory better than they did. Maybe if he ran, he could lead them to an old badger sett and lose them in the tunnels. 

“You stupid bitch,” the tabby started advancing again. “This is Exalted territory now, you hear me?” He came in with a few short swipes which Yarrowshade dodged. Yarrowshade countered with a sweeping claw attack that nicked the tabby’s muzzle, but even before he had finished he knew that he had gone too wide. The tabby spat furiously and punished him with a bite on the other side of his neck. That bite, while still not serious, hit more solidly into muscle instead of skin, and Yarrowshade screeched in fury. 

He rained a few blows down around the tom’s ears and they broke apart again. Both of their tails were bottle brushed and their eyes wild. Yarrowshade wheezed with a wince. His ribs were not happy about the move he had just pulled, that was for sure. In his periphery, Oreo had paused to stare off into the distance. 

“More savages, moving fast,” he said. “Seems like the party’s over, Milo.” 

“Dammit,” huffed the tabby, following his gaze. “Things were just getting good.” 

“Let’s go,” Oreo droned, sounding bored. He turned with a swish of his tail and started back towards the border as if nothing had happened. Yarrowshade glared but couldn’t do much more than try and catch his breath. 

The tabby, Milo, sneered at him and said, “We’ll have to finish this later, pretty boy.” Yarrowshade frowned in confusion. Was the kittypet hitting on him? It didn't feel like it, but what kind of insult was calling someone pretty? Turning, Milo ran his tongue over his muzzle and bounded to catch up with Oreo. Once they had disappeared in the grass, Yarrowshade let himself topple onto one side and threw back his head to pant for air. 

Not long after that, he heard Goldenstar’s voice calling his name. Stars, she sounded afraid. 

Guiltily, he inclined his head in her direction and shouted, “Here,” then hissed sharply in pain. It seemed like using his lungs was going to upset his ribs for a while. The sound of pawsteps grew nearer and soon Goldenstar, Russetfrond, Ospreymask, and Barleypaw emerged from the grass. Goldenstar was at his side immediately.

“Yarrowshade!” she gasped, hovering over him with an anxious twitch in her tail. “Stars, are you alright? Someone get Sagetooth-” 

“I’m fine,” he wheezed, dismissively waving a paw. “Just resting… Got a few bruised ribs is all.” Russetfrond was sniffing at the flattened grass while Ospreymask perked her ears and stood watch. 

“Looks like they’re heading back to the city,” she said.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “they left as soon as they saw you coming. Seems like they don’t care for fair fights. Ow…” He shifted a bit, trying to figure out exactly how bad standing up was going to be. 

“I’m sorry,” Barleypaw whispered. “I wasn’t fast enough.” 

“No, no, no,” he said quickly even though his sides ached. “You did perfect Barley-girl. I’m the one who messed up.” 

“What happened?” Goldenstar asked. She settled down next to him and started grooming the wounds on his neck and face with a worried firmness. 

“Uh…” he groaned. “I was gonna try and stall them ‘till you arrived but…” He paused to catch his breath then continued, “but they just pissed me off. You should have heard the crowfood they said.” Glancing at Barleypaw, he added, “or, rather, be glad you didn’t.” 

Russetfrond growled disapprovingly. “So they said some mean words and you started a fight you couldn’t win?” 

“Russetfrond,” Goldenstar frowned, but Yarrowshade laid his tail over her paw to stop her.

“Yeah. I wasn’t thinking right.” 

Russetfrond scoffed and looked away, tail lashing. Goldenstar sighed and gave his muzzle one last lick. 

Standing, she said, “Let’s get you back to camp before dark, okay?” 

“Sure thing, Goldie,” he said. “I can’t wait for Sagetooth to chew me out.” 

“Maybe my Papa can fix it,” Barleypaw offered. “He won’t chew you out.” 

“Thanks, Barley,” he smiled. Holding his breath, he heaved himself to his feet then let the air out slowly between pursed lips. That particular move was not a pleasant one, that was for sure. 

“What about the rogues?” Ospreymask asked. 

“I’ll go find the border patrol,” Russetfrond said, “update them on the situation. Maybe now Orangestar will start taking things seriously.” 

“Yeah,” she frowned. 

Goldenstar stepped up close to support Yarrowshade and he gratefully leaned his head on her shoulder. She didn’t need to say anything. He knew she would do anything within her power to see him well again. He felt painfully unworthy. 

Barleypaw slid into place on his other side, barely touching him but keeping close. He imagined that was more for her sake than his and he gladly twined his tail with hers in the hopes that it would be a reassuring gesture. The walk back to camp was not going to be pleasant, but at least he was with friends. He thought back on the encounter and emblazoned the tabby’s face into his mind. That made the fourth city cat he owed a beating. He was going to have to put in some battle training if he ever wanted to repay them all.

UPDATES: - Yarrowshade gets into a fight with rogues and has to take time off of his duties to heal from the injuries.

[loserlvrss]

꒰ 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓? ꒱ 古賀祐大

summary : you and your boyfriend broke up on bad terms, however, you can't seem to get over him when it would be so easy to be under him instead

genre : angst, non-idol!k x afab!reader, 1st person pov (yeah idk why either) tws : angst, suggestive content, kissing, alcohol consumption, language, toxic!k, lovesick!reader, jealousy, verbal fight author notes : fuma’s innocent don’t do girl don’t do itttt word count : 2.2k

my phone pinged! and i debated ignoring it — for the nth time in the last hour. the music was blasting, the bass shaking the house in a dub-step rhythm. i took another swig from the metal can that had somehow made it into my hands as another text rang out and caught the attention of the girl attached to my arm. the smooth liquid was the best the bottom-shelf had to offer, and beggars can't be choosers when trying to get drunk fast.

her eyebrows knit, eyes locking on the piece of machinery closest to her sights, then raising to mine.

honestly, right now, i wanted to throw the overly-expensive communication piece at the wall and watch it shatter. i looked to her, the phone, and then the can, taking the rest of it back and crushing it like a frat-boy would.

she huffed out a laugh, "you didn't block him?" but, it wasn't so hard to believe and she knew it just as well as i did.

i still loved him, even after the couple of months we've been broken up; it's not because it was on good terms. actually, it was the complete opposite: we were shit to each other and it was best we went our separate ways. we should, in reality, hate each other. it would only be the natural thing for two people in our situation to do — however, i can't help fighting the urge to reply.

her disappointment was apparent, “y/n, are you kidding me. he’s not even here right now but you can’t stop thinking about him! pick any other guy, i beg.”

my senses were colliding like a car-wreck — leaving my better judgment in the leftover to never be found again. i could see the red and blue and hear the sirens howling out to the moon. still, even under my dying breath, his name would roll off it.

“i-i’m tryi —“

“don’t be ridiculous, i know you well.” she said, fishing the phone that wouldn’t stop buzzing out of my hand. she read out the top text, “y/n, come over. i need to apologize. I need y — he’s drunk. he only ever says shit like this when he’s drunk! you forget he was my friend before he ever dated you. and, god, do i regret introducing you to him.”

my heart sank, a nausea creeping up my throat. he was bleeding me dry, i knew it, but he could have it all; my skin, bones, blood and teeth.

“block his number before you do something we’ll both regret!” she handed it back, “you know i only want what’s best for you — you’re you for fuck sake! you could have anyone, and i mean anyone, yet the only person in your head only texts you at two fucking a.m. you deserve better than him, don’t kid yourself.”

tears pricked my eyes because i knew it was true, but the shooting pain only went away when his hands were on my skin. it was better to stay away, to not take the risk. he should’ve been — should be — the one to get away, and sometimes i also wished she’d never introduced me to the devil under a different name.

“okay,” i sniffled, her palm resting against my cheek comfortingly, “i’ll block him.”

“good.” she unlocked her arm from mine, pushing me forward, “now go find someone better! god knows the bar is low!”

i felt the brush of a body against mine as i found myself smack in the middle of the crowd. my head whipped to the sights of a boy, probably around the same age as me, half-lidded eyes and flushed features. he apologized but, honestly, it was my — her — fault, though he didn’t seem to register that it was anything but an accident, probably too drunk to.

it was an envious state, i thought.

i smiled lightly, her words echoing my mind, “its okay. i’m sorry. my name’s y/n.” his face was soft with godly-defined structure: sharp nose, eyes and plush lips that upturned with a smile resembling mine.

“fuma!” he said, trying to shout over the music. however, something about his tone told me he wasn’t loud, exactly the opposite in fact: gentle, and warm. something my boyfriend — ex — had lacked when we were still together once upon a time. “you’re very, uh, beautiful.”

i laughed at his awkwardness, though i had to read his lips to understand. “thank you,” i replied, pulling him down to my height to hear each other better. my lips brushed against the shell of his ear. “you’re very pretty too.”

he visibly shuddered as i pulled away, furthering my slight sense of pride, mostly because i never had an effect over the only person i wanted to.

he choked out, “d-do you want a drink?” and i nodded, grabbing at his empty hand. the friend i had come with gave me an approving smile and shrugged as if to say the cliché, 'he's cute and you only live once.' he froze, obviously a little shocked by our sudden intimacy, however he brushed it away and led us both to a quieter area; weaving through lip-locked and timely-jumping college students.

i found myself pushing up onto the counter top, watching as he grabbed two beers from an already opened case. they were warm, but again, beggars can’t be choosers when trying to get drunk. he cracked it open and handed it in my direction.

his eyes wouldn’t land on mine, but only stared at the lips that were taking the smooth liquid so easily, watching my throat bob with every gulp. he shifted, leaning against the painted-wood-plastic at my side.

after a moment of deafening silence he asked. “do you go to this school?”

“no.” i replied, letting the can rest against my crossed legs, “i’m here with a friend.”

“a boyfriend?”

the words stung, because no matter the truth, i still wanted to say yes. i still wanted to be able to call the person i loved so deeply my boyfriend — to have him pick me up from this stupid frat-party and not have anyone say anything about it. i still wanted him, and i knew exactly why, though i’d never admit it.

i bit my lip and fuma must’ve, even through his clouded state, read the room. “a sensitive subject, i’m sorry.”

“don’t be sorry, i, uh, don’t have a boyfriend.”

“anymore.” he corrected. maybe it was because he was drunk that his words, even slurred, were so truth-filled it stung. “but i can tell you still want him to be.”

“no,” you paused, both knowing it was a lie, “i want to forget about him. he’s not here.”

“he’s not?”

“i don’t give half-a-fuck where he is in actuality.” you swallowed a bit of your pride, as well as some beer, “if he wanted to, he would. right?”

“right.” he replied, taking another swig.

i looked at him, all of him in disbelief. he knew i was a liar, but at the end of the day he didn’t even know me the way my ex could claim. maybe, i thought, that it was the best possible situation for me to be in. actually, it was the best i could make of this fucked up reality.

my voice lowered ever-so-slightly, “do you want to?”

“be your boyfriend?”

“woah, slow down there cowboy. let’s not go that far right now — we both know i’m not over my ex.”

i couldn’t tell if his face flushed from embarrassment or just the copious amount of alcohol running through his blood. “then, do i want to what?” he breathily-laughed out.

“make me forget?”

my reply almost sounded desperate, and i wondered if that resulted in an inclination to say yes. i wondered if that’s why i was pressed against the countertop i once sat criss-crossed on, lips locked with a stranger.

i felt guilty — a little lost — the sense of feeling so good but so wrong leaking through the thought of him; the man whose hands desperately groped whatever he could find, pressing our bodies so close i was convinced we could merge into one.

a moment ago it was true i wanted him to make me forget about my ex, i wanted him just as bad as he did me. but right now, the flashes of someone else strobed behind my eyelids, projected so nicely that i even wanted to forgive him — for the nth time in the years we spent on and off. i wanted to feel the intimacy of love, even if it was fake, but i couldn't when the only person i felt stockholm syndrome for was across the city.

but, a bus ride at this hour would be easy. it would take barely half and hour before i was underneath the man i wanted so pathetically.

my body shivered, but it wasn’t from the way fuma gripped my skin so gently. i felt a coursing guilt rush over me like a bad high. in reality, i knew i shouldn’t have offered, especially when both him and i were under copious amounts of influence; him worse-off than me. i was taking advantage of a good situation, a seemingly good guy, just to get over a bad for 40 minutes.

maybe i was just crazy — not crazily in love — but just plain fucking crazy. crazy for a man who wasn't mine anymore. crazy because i knew i shouldn't want him. crazy because i knew i was just losing a part of me that should've been lost a long time ago. crazy at the thought of being crazy.

"y/n" god, now i could ever swear i was hearing voices — his voice. well, that was until a hand grabbed my bicep, pulling me away from the tall man. "y/n, what the fuck are you doing?"

i didn't even get a chance to swing around fully before i was being pulled from the kitchen and out of the house entirely. the air was frosty, but honestly i couldn't be bothered to even feel cold; too annoyed to think of anything but the man who was still latched to my arm. eventually, i got fed up, after feeling copious amounts of despair fill my chest, pulling my limb from him.

he turned around calmly, despite the red i could see seeping behind his pupils. he tried to grab my hand this time, but i back away before he had the chance.

"don't — don't touch me, k." i crossed my chilled arms over my chest, one foot back and prepared to step again, "what are you doing here?"

"you weren't answering."

i scoffed, "i never answer, k. that's nothing new."

he didn't hesitate, and it was a little shocking, "your location is still on."

"that doesn't give you th-the right to just show up out of the blue!"

and despite being mad at him, he looked so damn cute with a pout on his face. i could tell he was somewhat drunk, a pink tinting his features i used to adore oh-so-much.

"but, you weren't answe —"

you yelled, "why would i answer you, k!" i couldn't understand his infatuation with the fact that i didn't answer his late-night texts, but maybe he was just as lovesick as i felt. "wh-why would i do that after all this time?"

was he just as damaged as i was? did he really still front like he cared, and was i still falling for it over and over again? it's said that to forgive takes strength, but right now i think that holding back is taking more out of me. he had my heart in his hands still, and despite dropping it countless times, he always knew when and where to pick it back up.

i wasn't sure if i loved him, but i'm just as unsure about not being in love with him. he's driving me to brink of insanity. he's gotten everything out of me, and it's taking everything in me to not muster up more.

if i had known that love would've had such a high price tag, would i still have felt the same way towards him? maybe the good could out-weigh this bad, but i was never one to wishful think before meeting his stupid-pretty eyes. i was never one to feel so unsure before having his stupid-hot skin on mine. i was never one to wear my heart on sleeve before he oh-so-gently pulled it out of me.

and maybe he was unsure too. maybe he didn't know why i wouldn't — couldn't — answer his messages. maybe he was one to think so highly of himself that s breaking up was just a suggestion.

did i love him enough to give him a fourth, fifth and sixth chance? yes. i loved him enough to forgive and forget after every little mistake, and that's what's eating at my brain. the hardest thing I've ever had to do was walk away while still loving him. so, why doesn't it feel like it's for the better? why doesn't his memory fade like its supposed to.

"admit that you only came to see if i was with someone else." i sighed, tears blurring over his frame, "admit that it was because you were blinded by jealousy. admit that you still want me, that you can't get over us as easily as i thought. admit that you still lo —"

"i love you, y/n."

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

[twistedwonderlandobsession]

⊹ ࣪ ˖The Midnight Miss You₊˚⊹

Type: Fluff

Character(s): Deuce

Format: Oneshot

Catagory: x reader

Warnings: None

His phone buzzed on his night stand in the middle of the night, it woke him up but he was still half asleep. With some low grunting he palmed for his phone before picking it up.

In the dark, his screen lit up to reveal your contact. Weird, you never called him this late before. Deuce pressed the answer button and put the device to his ear to hear you.

“Hello..? Did something happen?” He groggily asked, rubbing at his eyes.

Their relationship had been a bit closer then best friends. Nothing explicitly romantic like kissing but more like a old married couple that had been together through it all and knew eachother like the back of their hand. So they had held hands and cuddled and hung out on things that were eerily similar to dated. So he had lent a fair amount of jackets to her. Which she happened to be wearing while sitting up on their bed in her room while watching tv. Smiling when he picked up the phone. They had stayed up late yet again. Except that this night she had had a rough day earlier and through late night magic and music you were more sentimental than usual which slipped into their slightly slower then usual tone.

"Nothing horrible, I just wanted to hear from you. Honestly didn't expect you to pick up."

His ears flushed pink, he was a little embarrassed and his own feelings towards thrm. The way she talked. The way she was. It made his heart start to race and his cheeks burn.

"Oh, really? I thought this was an emergency or something.” He said with a teasing tone in his voice, “I guess you wanted to hear my voice, huh?”

As one dose you had a tendency to be a bit more forward and honest then usual whenever they had these late night conversations.

"Yeah, to be honest I definitely did."

Your honesty caught him off guard, he was still groggy and had not fully realized what he was thinking. Your words stung in a way that warmed his heart, and he couldn’t help but smile.

His face flushed a little more as he put his hand to his chest and squeezed there.

They both were in tune to each others feelings. It was easy for him to recognize this. And it made his stomach fill with butterflies.

“Oh, really?” He asked, his voice lowered just enough to create a hint of intimacy, “Why is that?” It was obvious why, but he wanted to hear the words from her directly.

He said with blush now turning slightly redder.

huffing at him you could practically hear her rolling her eyes at him but playing along and admitting something she usually wouldn't.

"Cause I missed you...and i was thinking of you."

His stomach sank. His heart pounded. The butterflies in his stomach turned into fluttering moths. He was ecstatic to hear those words, to hear them from her.

“Oh?” He said, voice low and breath caught in his throat, “Is that so..?”

He was trying not to sound too enthusiastic. His breathing quickened as he thought about what you meant to him. And what this implied.

"Yeah."

The words made him blush even more, but he loved this conversation. He was loving that he could bring this type of feeling out of you. He loved the fact that you were being so direct with him.

“Hey, how would you like to come over?” He said, trying to sound laidback and cool while keeping his voice low. You knew him though and saw through this.

immediately sitting up, smiling at the thought of him coming over. You would have to sneak him in...but it would be absolutely worth it.

"Of course. Get over here nerd."

Your response had him smiling hard. The butterflies in his stomach now beating their wings even more as he got off the bed.

"Ooh, I see. Trying to sneak me in are you?” He said, playful tone in his voice, “You don’t want to get caught huh?”

He got his jeans on and put a hoodie over his shoulders as he began putting his shoes on.

Huffing at him while zipping on the hoodie she had on, so the tank top underneath would be covered. Turning on the TV while shifting their phone from one ear to another.

"Oh hush, their out of the house till next week. So at least you can use the door."

The hoodie you were wearing was one that he had loaned you. One of many, as you had a habit of “borrowing” his clothes.

The TV being turned on caused his eyebrow to raise. That’s right, your parents were out of town. He had completely failed to remember this.

Deuce chuckled slightly before standing up. He was happy that he didn’t need to sneak around the family home, and instead just could waltz in the front door.

"Oh that's great" He said, “I was trying to figure out how I could get you to open your window.”

He smirked at his own words, feeling the butterflies flutter more again as he opened his door and started walking down the hall.

He was relieved they were out, you didn’t look like the type to sneak people into your home.

"Please. If I needed you to sneak in, I would have opened the window for you as soon as you were here with just a text or tap if it wasn't already open. Now come on, hurry up."

Your words made him laugh, they were so bold and direct. It tickled him. “Okay. Okay, I get it.” He said, “Damn, who knew you had such a delinquent spirit hidden in you?”

He said teasingly, but with a tone that made it sound like he knew that wasn’t actually you. But there were moments you got like this.

Deuce was coming up to your door now.

Rolling her eyes at him for the umpteenth time. About to respond when she heard him in her parking lot so you hung up and headed out of your room. You could hear him walking up to her apartment door and flung it open with a smile before pulling him inside and into the living room.

"Maybe a little, very rarely, and hardly ever like this."

Deuce laughed at your response. Though he did think you were being too modest.

His feet came to a halt when your apartment door swung open and you grabbed his arm to pull him inside. He smiled at you, and you had a warm smile.

“You know, I like this side of you.” He said, his words low and calm but laced with that bit of intimacy that had him feeling bold, “Makes you feel more dangerous."

You shrugged with a small smile. Shoving your hands into the pockets of his hoodie she was wearing.

"Yea unfortunately for you you will not see this often. To much of a nerd for that."

[moonmaiden1996]

M is for Mindfuck

So this is a unofficial part two to Dirty Little Secret. Honestly I have no idea what is happening to me or what the hell I have just written but enjoy!

Utter sin 

As always requests are open and please leave comments

Despair had tried to warn them not to aid the fairies and nymphs in her creation, but Desire had not listened to her warning. They had been too ambitious in her creation; she was too beguiling, too coy, too perfect. Desire should have known better when they place her in Morpheus's path. Dream’s lust and need have always been repressed, fuming below his surface, many had tried to ignite it and often annihilated themself in the process, yet there you prevailed, not burning in the flame but rising like a phoenix.

"Give her back..."Desire growled, standing in front of the throne.

Morpheus glared down at his sibling, the audacity to charge into his kingdom and demand you back like you ever belonged to them.

You frowned at them. Desire had been your friend once upon a time, and you would reveal in spending time with her, but now you felt only betrayal and sadness. Your eyes shifted from Desired chiselled golden face to gaze at Morpheus's dark features. Features that oozed terror. You pity Desire now; Morpheus was close to ripping his sibling apart as they swaggered into the Dreaming. You didn’t want to see them slaughtered as much as they deserved it. Instead, you inched closer to him, carefully not to make a sound as you curled yourself closer to your love, calming him.

Cold grey eyes remained trained on the Desire, but his finger sweetly ghosted across your arm's exposed flesh. Despite Morpheus's severity and harshness, you were completely in love with him. Beneath it all, he had a needy softness that you wanted to bask in. You enjoyed pulling those boyish smiles from him, the way he would pull you into him when no one was looking. You reached out and pulled you stray strand of his hair from his forehead, you know you shouldn't, but you couldn't resist his hair.

A little pearl of happiness glowed within you as he didn't glare at you or cast your hand aside. Instead, he continued to stare at his sibling, whose eyes were aflame with white rage.

"She is not yours to take." his voice, low and commanding, sent shivers through you.

"I created her. I crafted her, moulded her into perfection," Desire spat, inching closer to the throne and you. Morpheus pushed his sibling back with intense force, earning a scowl from Desires.

"You forget yourself, Desire. You gifted her to me, and I intend to keep her." Morpheus's reply deeply dragged you onto his lap with a squawk of surprise escaping your lips, a pink blush over your cheeks as his cold hands brushed across our thinly covered breasts to pick. The small shard of ruby shone pink above your heart. Morpheus smirked as you sank into his touch. "This pendant is proof of that", Morpheus purred, pressing a kiss into your neck. "She shares in the dreaming now proof that she is truly mine."

"Then you are a fool, and my plan has worked. I will destroy you and your pathetic realm.’ Desire snarled, stamping his feet against the stone floor.

“Desire, are you so weak to fall to such childish tactics?" Morpheus mocked, hands travelling down your body, settling tightly against your hips, rocking you against him.

Pulling soft whimper caught in your throat as he pressed his hardness against you."She is mine. You come to my realm and dare to claim my lover? You forget your place, something I will have great pleasure reminding you of.’’

You whimper at the loss of heat as his body evaporates into a cloud of smoke. Morpheus appeared behind his sibling, grabbing the golden hair and forcing the god onto his knees in front of the throne. You practically vibrated at the sight of your Lord subduing his foe bring them to their knees in front of you. "She is mine, and you need reminding of that."

His voice was liquid arousal that flowed over you and directed into your core, gushing with need. "Morpheus..."

"Don't worry, sweetling. I will take care of you, but first, we must show Desire who your Lord and master is." Morpheus's grip tightened in Desire's hair, who was powerless only to arch their back and stare helplessly at their brother's throne.

"Sit back, darling, let Desire see you...that it spread your legs... just enough he doesn't get to see you," Morpheus growled as he watched you.

You did as he asked, splaying against his throne, dress racked up around your thighs, your core thinly shielded by your slip. You didn't wear underwear, there wasn't much point, and Morpheus seemed to like it that way.

"Now, dear Desire, you will learn to whom she belongs. Spread your legs a little wider, my dear. Give him a good show." you did as you were told, staring at your lover with dark eyes.

"I am her lover and master, the winds that caress against her perfect skin" You gasp as you fill your lover's touch and move across your skin underneath your dress.

Desire watched with insolent eyes as they hung mid-air, head thrust back to gaze at your panting form.

Morpheus was predatory as he spoke, 'I am the lips that trailed down her body, sucking at her nipple, tongue rolling across her sensitive peak.' You felt lips divided across your body, pulling a series of whimpers from your mouth. They were his lip, the lips you burnt for, but it wasn't enough, and you needed more.

"Please, Morpheus... I need you..."

Morpheus smirked as you wrathed upon the throne; "see how needy she is, from my mouth…how desperately she needs me."

Your dress was soaked around your thighs; it was hard to concentrate on anything, but Morpheus's voice was intoxicating. "Not yet, sweetest." Morpheus boomed as Desire gave out a pained moan as he dangled helplessly.

'Enough, brother, I submit!’ Desire roared, fighting against their brother's hold.

"That is not enough, Desire… you need to get rid of this childish streak you have developed. Watch and learn….I am the fingers that circle her clit, strumming your core." your back arched against his throne, digging your nails into the ebony wood. A cry is escaping your parted lips in a silent scream.

"Morpheus!"

"See my name, she prays, not yours…." Morpheus's growled out predatory as he watched your body saggy into the chair, thrusting against the nothing. Your movements were frantic, heels pushing into arms rests, toes curling, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, wild and unabandoned.

His final command was low and hot, ghosting across your skin. "I am the cock that plunges into her heat against that spot only I will ever know."At his command, you feel it. The surge within you that stretches your walls. Your walls burnt as they tried to clench around nothing; it was not enough. You moan wantingly, thrusting against the air, fingers twisting in the wood as you sob

A feral growl ripped from Desires. He thrashed weakly against Morpheus's grip.

"Please, my King, I need you in me.'

Morpheus's eye softened as he watched you needily grind up in the air. ‘See how she needs me…I cannot keep her waiting...’

Desire gave out a sickening scream as they were jerked up ther their feet and thrown through the air, disappearing in a flurry of blue flames, leaving you two finally alone. The feeling of his cock still ploughing against your sweet spot

"Now, my queen, you will be stunning cumming against my throne. Shall we continue’’ Morpheus hummed as your eyes widened, and his clothes disappeared into nothing. A cry of joy escaped your quivering form as his thick hard cock pulsed proudly in front of you as he pounced.

@arim0895 @immaturedino @minetticatinwonderland @missusnora @nushy  @blossomedfloweroflove @bluebear142077 @ladychibi @sinisterandfun @kuchokitty @layla2-49 @itsbqueenthings @hagofyourdreams @sugarstone1999 @44capybara @tortilla-chips-and-allioli @loverofallgood @dilf-of-the-endless @kiki13522 @weirddominatrixpop  @thegreatestsandwich @joprogra

[batmanfruitloops]

Finally finished Harley's backstory!

Also, please let me know if I need more trigger warning tags, I'm not sure I covered them all, but I'm drawing a blank,

Harleen couldn't remember a time when her parents had gotten along, nor was she old enough to remember when they divorced, but she did remember how different living with each of them was, and that she much preferred the time with her father.

Her mother treated Harleen well enough, but she was almost always out of the house partying or gambling, leaving Harleen to take care of herself if she was unable to on a given day. She woke herself up for school, made herself food, and sometimes if she was lucky, her mother wasn't too hungover to spend a little time with her.

Her father, on the other hand, treated Harleen like his most precious treasure, taking her out to the circus whenever he could and buying her ice cream after picking her up from school. He had Bipolar (I'm not too sure which one, I need to do more research) and depression for a long time, but he did his best not to let it affect Harleen. From about middle school, Harleen started to show similar traits as her father, as well as being tested for narcissism, but her father knew how to help, so Harleen was able to keep them in check.

It wasn't until his own health started to drastically decline when Harleen was graduating high school that things got hard. She had already balanced having a job with her schoolwork, but found herself looking for a better paying job, as her father could no longer work as well to help with rent. She managed all that while still preparing to get a degree to go in therapy, but it was starting to affect her. Worse, her father's attitude towards her started to change. Not only was he extremely depressed all the time, he would have bouts of extreme aggression or hysteria before becoming despondent, judgemental, and intensely suicidal. Harleen was terrified, especially since she couldn't stay home with him all the time. Not if she wanted to keep her job and finish her degree.

She took him to a lot of doctors to see if they could help, but their answers all lead to an unknown form of disease that seemed to latch unto the brain and affect pre-existing health issues. This devastated Harley, and she was honestly terrified too. The doctors had warned that it tended to run in the family, so there was a high chance this would happen to her too.

It was all too much, her brain was swimming, practically drowning her thought after thought, and she could hardly tread on. She continued to work, albeit her coworkers noticed the shift. She had exams coming up, ones that would determine if she got her degree or not, but she'd barely been able to study and so…she cheated. She'd never done so in her life. It hurt her pride, and her father would be so disappointed, but he didn't have to know. It was all for him anyway,

Harleen passed, and she was lucky to get a job as a Blackgate therapist. Her schedule made it possible to watch her father most of the time, and this eased her mind, although her father's treatment kept her morale low. After a few years, she was offered a new therapist position at Arkham that was better paying for less hours, and she gladly accepted.

This is where she became John's (Jokers) therapist. They shared an interest in circus’, but there wasn't much else they agreed on. Harleen was also very drained by her father at this point, and had taken a lot of what he said to heart, so despite not agreeing with everything she said, Harleen still repeated harsh, personal things to John. Something about his genuine, fragile nature bothered her. And much in the same way, Harleen reminded John of his mother in the worst aspects.

On one particularly exhausting day, Harleen found her father had hung himself while she was at work. Her heart sank. She almost didn't believe it, but it really was him. She barely allowed herself to mourn and continued to work, finding herself lashing out at John even more. She lost it, starting to beat him as he helplessly buckled.

Now Strange didn't usually care if his patients were treated poorly, he often engaged such behavior himself, but some higher ups were visiting to access the Asylum because of Attorney Dent and Mr. Wayne's concerns. So when they witnessed Harleen beating John, she had to be fired.

At this point, Harleen feels she has nothing left, and after a bout of depression she goes back out as Harley Quinn, tired of trying to fight all the emotions and pain tangled up inside her.

- Sarsee

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

time to dig up those graves, m | myg, jjk

misfit toys au continuation of intro >> don’t play >> this game

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

summary: In this world, there are those who get stabbed and the ones who do the stabbing. Is it fun for you, Min Yoongi? Is it fun to see who gets the fatal strike in this game of sex and lies you've created with your stepsister? It's not so fun, though, when you actually witness her parring hits from your very own father.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; warning! implied sexual abuse (no direct actions are described); name calling; equally wealthy and SHIT parents that abuse their adult children in the name of filial piety narcissism; descriptions of a peeping tom event and a physical fight; stepsiblings; intense smut (fem reader, D/s (switches, sub!JK), fucking in a hot tub, thigh riding, nipple play, heavy biting / marking / scratching, fingering, cumming on reader's face, cum eating, m-receiving oral, restraints, blindfolding(?), use of a makeshift gag (panties) + cock ring, cock-warming, spitting, choking, cowgirl, cum feeding (from a condom ew), reverse cowgirl, ball torture); non-idol!AU - orange-haired!Yoongi x savage, bad bitch!reader, ft protective, security guard!Jeon Jungkook; shifts between Yoongi's, yours, and JK's POV

--

“Enjoyed your date, slut?”

He had to hand it to her for the hotel selection at least. The large penthouse balcony allowed for a sprawling view of a city skyline below, complete with tiny glittering windows, artificial stars shining for the restless still awake in this late night. The separation from inside area to the outside veranda was a wall of glass doors that only required a few buttons to fully open up the space, folding back into the wall to allow the guest to walk freely from the massive bed to the hot tub.

Min Yoongi walked into this extravagant hotel room with a curled lip and spite in his tone.

A voice rose from the water like rising steam.

“It wasn’t a date. It was only a client from the club.”

“That’s not what the media said.”

He saw her back first. Base of shoulder blades and up. Her elbows rested on the stone tile edge of the hot tub. Her hair was twisted into place with a long metal hairpin, revealing the curve of naked shoulders, the glistening skin imploring for his bites.

The more vicious, the better.

As he approached his stepsister, Yoongi noticed the hairpin had a thin silver chain with a charm on it.

An onyx cat head.

Her head turned, barely. The charm swung ominously in the air, making him feel like some sort of body should be attached, but the design was clearly meant to be a disembodied head attached to the end of a thin metal stake. An instrument with the sole purpose to be stabbed into tangled hair to thereby deem the wearer put together.

“You shouldn’t concern yourself with the squabble of simpletons, Yoongi.”

A wry chuckle.

“It was a dull dinner, honestly. The client was asking for some of the girls for his birthday party.”

The sound of churning water mixed with fingertips dancing on the surface. A low, mirthless hum. He could feel the cloaked rage in her otherwise calm tone.

“I told him my employees are not circus animals.”

“You don’t own the brothel, you know,” he muttered.

Silence.

An Icy itch slithered down his spine.

Yoongi had the distinct feeling that if his stepsister had a knife with her, it would now be buried into his anatomy with furious precision.

Instead, she inhaled slowly. Long digits fanning out, lifting, right hand gracefully landing on the stone tiles. Sliding out, her shoulders and head tipping back, and he saw her eyes were closed, wispy strands of hair fluttering over her cheeks and forehead. The water was milky with bath salts, aerated waves washing over her chest, concealing it save for the upper swell of her breasts.

She sank down as she leaned back, pink pillowy lips parting to let out a smokey sigh.

The onyx charm of the cat head clinked against the stone.

Scraping.

“The establishment is a gentlemen’s club. Not a daycare that rents out adult babysitters for crass, immature worms that still have birthday parties.”

Those beautiful eyes opened, darker in the dim light of the wall sconces set on low. Yoongi stayed where he was, a few meters away from the hot tub. Any closer and he didn’t trust himself. Her head tilted, gaze piercing right through him even when upside down. He noticed his eyes were wandering, glancing at her hands. Her arms. Her lips. The shape of her collarbones now prominent from the position. His tongue flitted over his lips, wetting them.

Flexible.

He knew that about her, of course. Remembered the arch of her spine with his hand on the small of her back, his tongue licking a thick, wet stripe up her torso, tasting the sinful sweetness of her skin.

Yoongi shoved his shaking hands into the pockets of his gray acid-wash jeans.

Nodded slowly, looking away from those accusing eyes.

“It’d be bad for business,” he mumbled. “Doing that kind of service.”

Seconds that felt like hours.

“I knew you would understand, Yoongi.”

The sound of shifting water.

When he glanced back, he was staring at the back of her head again.

“Where are your guards?”

“I sent them home,” she drawled absentmindedly, waving her hand. “No need for them when you’re around.”

He scoffed, ticking his head. “Hah. Like I would save you from any danger.”

“We both know saving is the last thing I want.”

The conversation lulled once more. An unpleasant, bitter feeling festered within his chest, her words ringing in his ears. He had received the envelope only a couple hours earlier. The day had been wasted away in his music studio once again. Eventually, he had given up and collected his bomber jacket to leave, finding a bright red envelope taped to the outside of his door. It had contained an address and a keycard.

“How did you know I would come?” Yoongi muttered.

The middle finger of her right hand tapped against the stone. The rhythm of her nail was barely audible over the roar of the jets of water.

“I didn’t.”

He flinched.

As if shot.

A strange kind of ache in his ribcage, as if a gaping hole was forming.

A part of him wanted to run. Not just physically removing himself from this moment. Running  could mean so many more things than that. Running was lashing out. Running was trying to find the words that hurt most. Running was holding onto the meaningless pride of needing to be more than. Running was the kind of thing his father did; exercising clout, money, pettiness to defend his conceited, selfish character.

Yoongi tucked his tongue into his cheek.

His right hand raised and rubbed the left side of his chest, pressing the jersey fabric of his t-shirt to tense muscle.

He saw her left arm shift.

It swung out, landing in the same position as her right. Fingers fanned downward, elbow resting on stone. Her decorated wrist didn’t touch the tile, keeping the silver chain bracelet with black glass beads out of harm’s way. It shone wickedly, catching the light.

Yoongi lowered his hand.

Kicked off his shoes.

Removed his jacket, letting it fall to the floor.

Her hands remained the sides of the hot tub, at rest. Calm. Not reacting to the sound of his pants falling onto the carpet, socks shed, shirt pulled up and over his head. Hooked his fingers on the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs and pushed down. Fabric collapsed onto the floor, one by one, and then the sound of his heavy step on wood.

And yet.

Nothing.

“Hey.”

Nothing.

Yoongi found he hated her saying nothing more than her calling him brother.

He lowered himself to his knees.

His hand reaching out, gliding it against her cheek, stroking her damp skin with fingertips. His thumb brushed against her lower lip. An exhale. Her soft lips pressed against the pad of his thumb, making him shiver. The ache in his ribcage was transforming into something ravenous as his fingers pressed into her jaw, turning her head while he lowered his, blurs of red-orange shielding his peripheral vision as his hair swung forward. His eyelids lowered, weighed down by the heat radiating from the bubbly, hot water.

Her head turned.

Her chin lifted with his touch, half-lidded eyes finding his.

Yoongi kissed her deeply.

Her body twisted, rising slightly, nimble tongue flitting between his lips.

He stilled his breathing.

Trying not to shudder.

She drew back, alluring eyes pulling away from him, her fingers skimming his knee. Floated backward to make way for him. He lifted his knee and swung his leg into the water, propelling his body into the waves. The temperature change from night air to churning heat shocked his nerves, sending pinpricks of goosebumps all over his skin, but he ignored it, reaching out again, his hand grasping her upper arm and pulling her back to him.

“Don’t try to escape,” he whispered.

Husky and rough.

The corner of her lips ticked upwards.

“Speak for yourself.”

She planted her hands above his shoulders, gripping the edge of hot tub, and closed the distance.

Kissing him.

Yoongi knew he didn’t have any particular morals. He didn’t care about being perceived as right or having correct conduct or who the fuck knows what else people wanted to be. Breaking rules, crossing lines, digging his fingers into his stepsister’s hips and sliding his thigh between hers while sucking on her tongue, he did these things without much remorse and without much thought, because thinking too deeply about it would mean facing parts of himself that he wished weren’t real. He knew what he should be doing. He should have stopped.

He knew that.

Her body rose, rivets of water trickling down her breasts, beading when they reached her hard nipples, fierce kisses deepening and his head tipping back, giving into the addictive, binding taste of her saliva and his mixing together, tongue to coiling tongue.

A few times of this, sure.

A few times could be forgotten.

Under the churning water, she sat on his thigh. Angling her hips downward, making them both hiss at the contact. Sensitive nerves rubbing against hard muscle. His tight grip guided the deliberate pace, staring into each other’s eyes, shaking breath shared in the mere centimeters between their faces.

Yoongi knew he could have many beautiful things.

Her eyes gleamed as her smirk reached them, shamelessly stimulating her clit against his flexed thigh, not hiding, aroused enough that he could feel the viscous juices clinging to his skin for a split second before it was washed away by the jets of water around them.

He could have many beautiful things.

She’s the most beautiful one.

He tilted his head and ran his tongue over the side of her neck, feeling her hips flinch and her head fall back, a sweet moan injected into the air above his ear. The city sounds were akin to white noise due to how high up they were, but Yoongi wouldn’t have heard them anyway, too focused on cascading water and rolling hips and the taste of her skin, her head moving aside to give him more access. Muscle and pulse under his teeth.

He bit down, marking her.

A satisfied, airy chuckle.

“I hoped you would, Yoongi.”

Power and blood underneath his mouth and his fingernails, dragging them roughly across her ass, sucking hard as she fucked herself harder, riding his hard thigh with lustful vengeance, chasing her orgasm in pain and pleasure and heat.

Out in the open, high in the sky, seemingly untouchable.

Her left hand flew off the edge and grabbed the back of his head, locking her fingers into his hair and sending flicks of red-orange tips into the edge of his vision, pinning his vicious mouth to her throat as she came, sliding closer, her soft thigh flush to his erection. Hips strongly flinching in his hands, pulsating softness pressed into his skin. Leaking honey washing away, washing away, the traces of her release reduced trembling muscles and heedless, hazy sighs laced with his name. Heartbeat roaring in his ears, his own breathing erratic and melding with her moans, all of it drifting up, up, up into the night sky where planes roared past.

Clueless sheep flying above the tangled snakes.

He kissed up her bruises and his marks, curling his tongue around her earlobe, diamond earring quivering from his raspy growl.

“Turn around.”

She slowly let go of his head.

Her breath feathered against his ear, words breezing past twin platinum hoops.

“Don’t want to look at my face, hah?” she whispered, light in tone and heavy in implication.

Yoongi said nothing.

She obeyed, untangling for less than a second before twisting her body, backing up without fear, leaning against his chest, layering their heartbeats. He raised himself a little, sliding his erection into the dip of her ass, a familiar feeling now. She hummed and rocked her hips back, rubbing his hard cock against her juicy ass.

He stopped her.

One hand gripping the inside of her thigh and the other in her hair, his fingers digging into the bun held together by a metal hairpin. The onyx cat head charm swung unsteadily, metal to gemstone rattling.

A breathless beat.

Yoongi flicked his wrist, forcibly rotating her head ninety degrees so her parted lips were against his cheek, holding her there. He breathed out. Exhale, unhurried, her warm breath drifting over his left cheek. His hand on her thigh sliding down, down, bodies surrounded by aerated water, brushing his fingertips against her shivering slit.

His eyes shifted, turning his head to look into hers.

Said nothing, letting the direct eye contact do the talking.

She held her breath.

Yoongi let his eyes explore every detail of her face, pressing two fingers to her engorged clit and rubbing slow circles. He memorized her expression. The tension in her jaw lessening at the hunger was soothed by his touch. The lowering of her lush lashes, gazing at him with desire. The way bliss slowly but surely crumbled the cloaked anger, swollen lips parting and snaking moan rising as his fingers tangled in her hair, pulled, tugging her head back and exposing his bites.

Broken vessels and seeping blood the cause of those red-purple marks, his teeth marring perfect, pampered skin.

He stared into her eyes and leaned in.

Shoved two fingers into her pussy as he covered her open mouth with his, swallowing her cry.

Yoongi did not want to forget.

His hand cupping the back of her head, pressing her body to his with his forearm, adding a third finger and thrusting his tongue into her mouth, devouring her stifled moans with greed, and he knew he did not want to forget, knew he wanted the memorize the way her body clenched around him and sucked him in, more, needing more, countless times, a hundred times, a thousand times, never enough, looking into her beautiful eyes, roughly fucking her with his fingers all the way to his knuckles, encouraged by the way her hips bucked and shuddered. Lips locked, continuous. The constant milky water adding sensual slip between their bodies. Her left hand on his hip, sharp manicure digging in deliciously. Her soft ass bouncing against his stiff length, keeping him on the edge of almost enough.

He shoved her up against his torso repeatedly.

Over and over.

Her other hand lifted from the bubbling water, sliding into his hair and intensifying the kiss.

Lost in his tongue and his hands.

Heat intensifying, lust compounding, lightheaded from shared breath. Neither of them stopping. Faster, harder, in unison, her tight grip on his ass, the kiss broken with a faint gasp, suddenly staring at the perfect arc of her straining throat and feeling the sting on his swollen lips.

“Yoongi, fuuuck…”

His name so saturated with ecstasy that even he felt his nerves sing.

She writhed against him and her hands shot down, jamming his three fingers as far in as they would go, locking him in place so he could feel deep inside, feel the powerful, slippery walls clenching around his digits, feel the cum drenching his skin in waves, bear witness to sharp throbs rippling up her torso, her back arching, moan so wanton that the sound itself was enough to make his already hard cock swell even more.

He worked his fingertips into her hair, massaging her scalp, his body on fire.

Pressed his lips to her neck, nicking the skin and eliciting a fucked-out hiss.

“You…”

She was breathing hard, winded from the high achieved at this height.

“You should cum on my face,” she breathed out.

Arousal hiking, feral want clawing up his insides, the gears of this misfit toy click, click, clicking.

“Cum all over me, Yoongi.”

The air outside the hot tub was cold, but his body was too hot to notice. Splashing water as they repositioned, but neither of them cared, too ensnared by each other, lured too deeply by the forbidden passion, her elegant fingers spreading out over her jaw and open mouth, pink tongue hanging out and loose strands artfully framing this display, looking him up and down as he gripped his cock, sitting on the stone tiles, pumping himself right in front of her face, water streaming down his tense muscles.

Her eyes gleamed with rapturous glee.

Flexible tongue coiling in the air, dancing, teasing him as he thrust into his hand.

He clenched his jaw, looking down at the unabashed, lewd, pornographic display of indecency.

“I…”

The corner of her lips ticked upward.

I love you, so I act this way.

“I fucking hate you,” Yoongi gritted out, his core tightening, already there.

She grinned, and he gasped, shoulders jerking and throwing his hips forward, shooting a thick string of white across her cheek and neck, choking back his groans as she leaned back, floating closer and showering herself in his orgasm, his twitching cock painting dripping lines over her lips, her tongue, her cheeks, her neck, even down to her collarbones and up to her forehead, his heavy scent stuck to her skin.

She smeared it all over her face, collecting his cum, sliding her fingers into her mouth and licking them off, pressing her fingertips onto her tongue and rubbing circles right below the shivering, dark red head sticking out of his tight grip.

Yoongi panted hard, chest heaving.

Saw a bead of white clinging to the tip.

Quivering.

His eyes flickered to her, unsure.

That intense gaze locked with his immediately. No malice. No anger. Only a carnal craving unsatisfied, desire unrelenting, wanting him still. Wanting more, just as he wanted more of her. Both knowing the night was still young. Both still waiting to put their hands around each other’s necks and cum together without air. Both still waiting for the ache between their legs to be fulfilled.

She glided in the water, smooth and sleek, and her lips closed around his cock.

Yoongi let his eyes close and he let go, sliding his cum-covered hand into her hair instead as her head began to bob up and down, persuasive tongue swirling around his re-engorging shaft, and he cared not for what was right or what was correct conduct, tipping his head back and burying his cock into her throat with a moan.

-

“You are a disgrace. I leave on an important business trip and I come back to my lawyer informing me that my son has fuckin’ assault charges, again. Again! Do you know how expensive these settlements to these lowlife peasants are? Tch, and you still have that disgusting orange hair I’ve been trying to get you to dye back. Fucking clean up. Why are you dressed like a dirty street rat? Shit. You should be more like your sister. As usual, the gentleman’s club has no issues and I’m forced to clean up your messes instead. If you doing jail time didn’t reflect so poorly on me, I’d lock you in there myself.”

You said nothing.

Entire body on high alert, wearing a thick cream turtleneck tucked into suit slacks, hands folded in your lap, legs firmly crossed. No easy access. You were sitting on the rigid, black leather sofa of the living room that had not seen much living. Glass coffee table, ivory shag rug. Your immaculate hair was pinned back, every strand in a smooth wave cascading down the left side of your face.

You stepfather sat beside you.

To your left.

He was wearing a lavish gold and black robe, open to reveal his toned chest. Gold silk pants to match. Holding a glass of scotch in his left hand and his right arm was resting on the back of the sofa, his fingertips stroking the nape of your neck.

You didn’t look at him.

It took everything in you to not flinch away from the vile, parasitic touch threatening to caress your bare skin.

Your jaw was clenched so tight that it hurt. You couldn’t even look at Yoongi, who was standing at the other side of the coffee table with his tongue in his cheek. Dressed like the street rat he wasn’t, distressed black sweater with the threads torn apart, washed-out gray long sleeve underneath, and light blue jeans with giant holes exposing his scabbed, scraped knees. His freshly dyed, long red-orange hair was hanging in limp strings due to too much gel and fingers combing through it too many times.

Your mother sat on your right; artificially tightened body stuffed into an even tighter, low-cut, flashy cobalt blue minidress. She didn’t add anything to the tirade except her tight-lipped disapproval and the condescending upturn of her nose.

Her hip pressed against your hip.

She scooted even closer to you, practically sitting in your goddamn lap because you refused to more any closer to your stepfather, keeping a fixed fifteen-centimeter difference between your leg and his open legs.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” you stepfather barked shrilly.

His knee flapped open more and hit yours.

You bit back a snarl, clasping one hand over the other, forcing your fist down.

Yoongi clicked his tongue and dropped his shoulders back.

Cocked his head.

“Yeah. I got a question,” he replied lazily. “How young was the youngest girl you fucked in Europe this time? Another high schooler? Or have you stooped to middle schoolers now?”

The corner of your lips quirked upwards.

Your eyes shifted, locking with Yoongi’s smug expression.

“You–”

Your stepfather flew off the couch and kicked your stepbrother in the knee with his fur-lined, designer loafer, making him grimace and buckle. A loud thud as Yoongi caught himself with his hands, visibly restraining himself as his own father poured the expensive scotch onto his head and clothes, soaking him in alcohol. His head was barely visible above the glass surface of the coffee table.

Dark eyes shot towards you.

Yoongi smirked, rivers of liquid poison sliding down his temples.

You smiled, licking your lips.

Your mother finally rolled her eyes and stood up, huffing as your stepfather hurled the glass into the far wall, and now they were yelling, he does this all the time, what is the point of getting angry and destroying my fine crystal, roaring back, don’t tell me what to do, woman, and your crystal that you bought with my money?

Yoongi got up, shaking off the excess liquid in his hair with a growl, pushing past the maids that suddenly appeared to rush and silently clean up the shattered glass right away.

“Oh, don’t be so full of yourself! You can’t even get it up anymore without the pills.”

“I told you those were for my blood pressure!”

“I’m pretty, not stupid! I asked the doctor since I had to go to find out that I somehow mysteriously got chlamydia, again!”

Your stepbrother stopped by the hall.

Looked back.

Your lips parted.

His eyes darkened, cutting that nonverbal communication, and Yoongi looked away, turning to the right, disappearing around the corner without another word.

Your mother began to grab the various equally expensive and meaningless trinkets around her, vindictively throwing them at her husband as you got up from the sofa, in a haze, wandering out as strong-armed butlers rushed in, the shouting escalating, but all you did was run, turning to the left when you reached the hall, running, still feeling the ghost of a vile, parasitic touch at the nape of your neck.

-

Jeon Jungkook entered his apartment, closed the door behind him, and turned on the light.

The young Master was standing right in front of him.

“Woah!”

He jerked back and dropped his keys, the loud clattering shattering through the disturbed air of his exclamation. He was out of his security guard uniform, handed to the laundry clerk at the gentleman’s club for them to clean and return to him when refreshed and re-pressed. He had remembered to take out the switchblade with the engraved black tiger, of course. It was currently weighing down his dark-wash jeans, the clip concealed by his long-sleeved black shirt and padded leather jacket.

The woman who was effectively his boss was standing in his apartment.

Just standing there, staring at him with a blank expression.

Jungkook swallowed hard.

His lips tingled with memory, remembering the taste of her pussy and the way her hips grinded into his face, suffocating him in the stone basement as she toyed with his overstimulated cock.

“Um… Hi, Master.”

She blinked, slowly, and it was like she finally saw him, taking the time to observe his appearance from his thick-soled black boots, up his legs, up his torso, to his face.

“You’re home, Jungkook,” she said.

He reached down cautiously, looking up at her inquisitively as he picked up his keys. Her eyes followed, tracking his movements like a newborn hawk. “Uh, yeah. I live here,” he managed to get out, lingering a little before straightening, tossing his keys in the ceramic dish by the door. “I guess it’s in my employee file, huh? My address?”

The young Master tiled her head.

Jungkook felt the same way he felt when he saw her outside the employee lockers, seeing again those empty eyes bleeding distress. He should probably be bothered, annoyed, maybe even angry at this invasion of privacy, and yet he didn’t sense any ill-will emanating from her.

It was as if she too didn’t understand why she was there.

“Ah, did I give you a key?” he asked, now unsure what he had done in his lust-filled stupor. “I guess I must have–”

“I picked the lock.”

“What?”

He gawked at her, wide-eyed.

She ticked her chin to the console table by his door and he started, seeing a strange, brushed black leather pouch open with various pointy instruments.

“A chubby boy taught me how to pick locks in middle school in return for not ratting on him for peeping at his female classmates in the gym changing room.”

It was almost comical how fast Jungkook whipped his head around, his own black hair hitting him in the face as his jaw dropped in the stunned disbelief at this very sudden, very specific explanation of how she broke into his apartment. She nodded, looking up from the lockpicks to his shocked face.

“I found him stuffed into one of the tall lockers,” she continued calmly as if she was delivering a dry speech instead of explaining how she learned literal criminal activity. “He was being bullied by the older jocks. They would beat him up, piss on him, and then shove him into one of the tall lockers in the girls’ changing room.”

“What… the fuck…”

She shrugged. “He didn’t seem that distressed about it, because then he realized the girls liked the small lockers more than the long ones. They never opened the tall ones, so he stayed there and watched them. Wasn’t gonna do anything. Just watch them take their clothes off and put them back on. Eventually, the jock boys got bored bullying him, so he went back on his own and kept locking himself in to watch.” Her head ticked, as if remembering something. “I was in there by myself, skipping class, and I heard breathing. Yanked him out. At first, I thought he was hurt. I thought he needed help.”

Something strange flitted in her eyes.

“He didn’t want help.”

Jungkook felt an icy itch slither down his spine as he witnessed her vacant expression as she explained.

“He wanted me to go away. I told him I would tell the teachers. He said he would teach me how to pick locks then. He taught me, and I went away.” Wry laugh. Nothing was funny. “I moved back to Korea for high school. Never saw him again.”

Her eyes rose, locking with his.

Searching.

Jungkook didn’t back off.

He couldn’t figure out what wasn’t quite right behind those eyes.

She looked away, turning, gazing in the direction of his expansive windows in the living room with the sheer curtains pulled. “Did you know Papa owns this building? He owns a bunch on this block. Seems like a nice area,” she commented hollowly.

Jungkook found he despised her talking about her stepfather, even in passing. “It’s okay. I picked it because it was close to work.”

That was not the reason why he picked this apartment building.

The young Master turned away from the windows. “Do you like work?”

The reason was standing in front of him.

“I’d hate it if you weren’t there,” Jungkook confessed.

She smiled.

It felt like a mirage, too distant to be a façade.

“The world is savage, Jungkook,” she said.

Clear and simple.

He answered, steadfast.

“I’m trained to be tough, remember?”

Later when he thought about it, he was surprised that he was even able to continue this kind of conversation. He usually struggled when there was a lack of straightforwardness. Yet this moment was so surreal that it felt like a dream. Something about this moment in reality was just slightly off track, a mis-clicking gear stuttering in place, all the right pieces but having trouble syncing up.

“Careful not to get backstabbed by the one you’d take a knife for,” the young Master told him, standing in his apartment after having broken in.

Jungkook took the pause that followed.

Followed the teeth of the gear, click, click, clicking into place.

“It’s true that there are two kinds of people in this world – those that get stabbed, and the ones who do the stabbing,” he found himself saying, and he could see the wary child peek out from the tangled forest of those eyes, not yet trusting him. Maybe wouldn’t. Maybe it was too late now. “But I think there’s one more.”

She tilted her head.

“The knives.”

Her soft lips parted.

“I don’t really have any particular thoughts about anything.” He shrugged. “I don’t have any solutions to the complexities of the world. I don’t know of or understand the sides to take.” He cast his eyes down, feeling strangely guilty about it. “But… I can listen. I might not know the words to say, but I have a voice. I’m capable.”

His eyes flickered upward, to the innocent fascination that received him.

“I’m a knife.”

Jungkook smiled sheepishly, hoping he made some sense.

She smiled too, then swiftly lifted her hand, hiding her lips behind her fingers as her eyes sparkled with revived mirth, relief washing through him at the sight. Her shoulders lightly quivered.

“You’re funny.”

He pointed to himself, wide-eyed.

“M… Me?”

The surrealness fell away, suddenly in reality with his warming ears.

“A-Ah, so… why are you here, Master?” Jungkook sputtered. Had he done something? Maybe a client complained about his behavior? Maybe it was a co-worker? Or… Maybe… But before his mind could go back to memories of the dark that sung melodies of pain and pleasure, he saw the shift in her demeanor. Her hand fell, no, playfulness trickling out to vacancy, no, please, the feeling of having said the wrong thing looming over him.

“You’re right.”

Detached tone and it tore up the insides of his chest.

“I should leave.”

Her face turned away from him and suddenly he saw all the details of her appearance – her immaculate hair windswept, the ivory turtleneck molded to her neck and torso, slacks made of a heavy-weighted black fabric that were wrinkled from running, and was he so preoccupied with his attraction that he forgot to observe all the pieces of this puzzle, forget this wasn’t his version of good luck and actually meant something else–

Jungkook’s hand reached out and touched her shoulder.

She recoiled.

As if shot.

“S-Sorry!”

Pulled back his hand, panic rising in his voice, the accusation in her gaze slicing through him.

“Sorry, I…”

His chest was so tight that it was hard to breathe.

“When I asked why you were here, I didn’t mean go away,” he rambled, his fingers curling inward in the air, crumbling inside, frustrated at his heart, shaking his head quickly, running away from her cowered stance and cornered eyes.

His voice.

Stricken.

“I don’t want you to go away.”

He raised his head, afraid.

It wasn’t anger that received him. Something else. Faltering, unable to look at him. “I… I shouldn’t be here. I broke in. You should be calling the police so they can lock me up.”

His mouth went dry.

He didn’t know.

But he knew.

The young Master locked eyes with him again and he hated it, hated this poisoned guilt looking back at him, hated that her lips were moving, and hated that he knew he wouldn’t like any of the words he would soon be hearing.

“Sometimes you can only be safe from danger if you’re the one in the cage,” she breathed.

Only an exhale, because annunciating those words was the equivalent of telling a dirty secret.

He bit his lip.

Jungkook shoved his hand into his jeans pocket and yanked out the switchblade with the engraved black tiger, holding it out on his palm, angry at the complicated world and angry that he could not make that poisoned guilt disappear.

“Is he the one hurting you?” he snarled.

The young Master did the thing he was afraid of.

She shook her head.

Jungkook felt like he was bleeding out with each slow, miniscule shake. Fatigue in the form of helplessness, unable to say anything, pulling his hand back and clutching the switchblade so hard that the ridges cut into his hand. No. Of course not. And he had a hint who, which was the worst part. He slid the switchblade back into his pocket, the weight not as tangible as the stale air in his lungs as he remembered the way the old Master’s husband looked at his stepdaughter, hell, even the way the old Master glared behind her daughter’s back, her own flesh and blood.

Tentatively, he raised his hand again.

Her right hand intercepted, sliding up her sternum and up to the left side of her neck, fingers curling over her shoulder. Her eyes flickering to his, but this was simple guilt now, no longer poisoned. He stilled, right hand still outstretched, centimeters from her cheek. She tried to look away.

His shaking lips let out a weak cry.

Jungkook didn’t want his selfishness to interfere, but it was inevitable.

She stayed in this eye contact and let out a soft sigh.

“I don’t want you to see even though you know what happened in that hotel room that night,” she murmured.

He swallowed.

Hard.

Made a decision.

His left hand lifting, and Jungkook closed his eyes, covering them with his hand as his right closed the distance, stroking her jaw gently. Breathed in. Breathed out. Listened to the sound of her caught gasp, felt the way she shivered, but didn’t back away, staying still as his fingers traveled, running his thumb over her lower lip. Involuntary shudder, remembering the insistence that mouth possessed, and he too wanted to be possessed again, lightly pressing his fingertips into her cheek, imploring.

Her body shifted.

Stepping closer.

His hand fell, covering hers over her shoulder.

“That’s none of my business,” Jungkook whispered.

Somehow, she understood.

Her hand slipped out from under his. He held his breath, seeing only the inside of his eyelids. Her hand came back, fingers wrapping around his, stroking his knuckles. Sank her fingernails in. He gasped, her name savored by his tongue like a delicate sweet, and she leaned in, bringing her heat and that carnal insistence, kissing him deeply in the darkness he created.

-

“Shh…”

Wrists bound with natural-fiber rope. So simple, the knot between them wound around several times and then brought up with another square knot, tied securely to a large lasso around the square base of the extremely heavy travertine coffee table.

Your fingers ghosted over the straining arms.

One heavily inked all the way to the shoulder. One clean save for a mole in the inner upper arm.

You leaned down and pressed your lips to that mole.

Licked it, dripping saliva and blowing on it. A cool stream over hot skin taut over hard muscle that shivered at the change in temperature. You continued kissing, down, down. Over collarbones sticking out due to the arms pulled upward. Over the shaking throat, hearing muffled shudders under the white towel placed over the head.

Your panties were stuffed into his mouth, partly overflowing to create a small pocket of air between the nose and towel.

Your fingers crept under the towel, pushing it up a little, and traced his lower lip, knowing there was a small mole underneath them, at the center. Wiped away his spit. Cleaned him up. Pulled your hand out and dragged your nails down his neck in the process. A small whine that clearly indicated syllables. A word.

Harder.

You raised your naked body and slid down, sinking your fingernails into Jeon Jungkook’s shaking chest and scratched him with your pointed, almond-shaped manicure, leaving behind angry red lines, growling deep in your throat.

His wanton moan under you, familiar and grounding.

You breathed out.

Calm now.

“You want me to be addicted to inflicting pain?” you dreamily sighed, question hazy like smoke, rolling your shoulders as you pulsed your slick pussy lips against his hard length that you had been sitting on for a while now. “That’s a dangerous game to play, Jeon Jungkook.”

His fingers curled into fists, muscular arms quivering, deliciously whimpering.

His head was on his living room rug, but the rest of his body was on the unforgiving hardwood. A jumble of clothes beside your bodies, along with two other things. You were straddling his hips. Slid back, jamming his stiff length in between his thighs forced together by yours pressing inward, rubbing your wet heat against the shaft, coating him with your juices.

You toyed with his nipple as you mused.

“I was not surprised your had condoms, but I was surprised that you had a cock ring.”

You flicked the small nub repeatedly, running your nail over it, feeling it harden under the pad of your finger. Abused the other one too, listening to his snuffed gasps and seeing his arms buckle, pulling at the rope. The travertine table did not move, of course. Licked your finger and pressed your saliva to his irritated skin to add a new sensation, slow circles agonizingly tender as you rolled your hips. You deliberately kept your pussy away from stimulating the head of his cock.

Then you pinched his nipple, hard, making him cry out at the harshness.

“Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised.”

You lifted your lower body, reaching for a condom in the pile.

“Do you touch yourself and think about that night in the basement?”

He moaned desperately when he heard your rip the packaging open.

“Do you jack yourself off with the cock ring on, abusing yourself and wishing it was me?”

You picked up the silicone circle, surprised at the firmness. It had only a little give. A slight adjustment of your legs and you looked down, his twitching cock glossy with your slick, the dark red tip leaking pre-cum.

You leaned down.

Licked it.

Without the stabilization of a hand, his rigid length slipped, smearing pre-cum onto your cheek and bouncing wildly. A stifled sob shuddered under the white towel. Begging. You licked again, intentionally messy and not enough stimulation, tasting your vicious sweetness mixed with the strong bodily flavor of his pre-cum.

Jungkook whined, the sound vibrating in his chest.

You snaked your tongue around the head and collected it into your mouth.

Stopped.

Just covered the throbbing head with your soft lips and stilled, holding the condom in one hand and the cock ring in the other. Warmed it with your saliva, spit running down the length as seconds tick, tick, ticked by.

The whine morphed into inaudible pleas, his back arching, chest flexed, arms locked, muffled cries of your name to move, suck, do anything, anything at all, but you simply kept him in a warm, wet sleeve, not even the length but only the twitching head that was leaking more and more, tongue pressed to the underside to stimulate the thin skin and keep him hard.

The towel began to slip as his head tipped back.

You removed your mouth.

He barely had time to gasp before you seized his cock, squeezing roughly, his gasp shooting into a pained groan.

“Watch the towel.”

He made a subservient noise of agreement, lowering his chin again.

You let your breath out.

Gripped his thick girth and rolled the condom down, slowly, steadying your heartbeat to even. Taking your time. Pressed two fingers to the base and slid the cock ring over the latex, additional lubricant making it easy, closing your eyes as Jungkook quietly sniffed under you, relenting to your pace.

“Shhhh…” you murmured.

Soft and gentle and delicate, your thighs rising from his, leisurely opening your eyes as you lowered yourself again, relishing in the way his whole body shook and tightened when your pussy wrapped around him, swallowing his cock on one smooth stroke.

You glided your hands up his abdomen, not yet moving your hips.

His begging was silenced by his own teeth clamping down on your panties, his neck glistening with sweat and strain.

You spat on his stomach.

Jungkook’s entire body lurched, suffocated choke of your name striking the air.

You slapped your palm down onto the saliva and raked your fingernails over his side, bucking your hips with the slash and sending his body into a frenzy, shock and pain and pleasure barreling into him all at once. His hips jerked up and you slammed your hips down, fucking him into the floor with your knees to wood, switching between clawing his torso and pinning him down to fuck him harder, chasing, chasing the rush and the ecstasy, adrenaline high rippling through you with his swelling girth threatening to stretch you out, but you clenched your core and all around him, your sweet slick mixing your spit on his balls, loud smacks of hips to hips echoing throughout Jungkook’s apartment.

You wrapped one hand around his neck.

You fucked him right there, on his hardwood floor.

White towel over his face and his depraved moans distorted by your panties shoved into his lips and your hand gripping his throat. Tighter, blood thinning and oxygen not enough, his chest aflame with red lines, muscular body straining against the rope, writhing to fuck you back and get that agonizing depth, and you raised your other hand, scraping your fingernails against his now-reddened, hard nipples, causing him to howl and cry out, closing in his biceps to his head and holding the towel down over his face, black hair flaring out, wild and insane, your name torn unwillingly from his throat.

You felt his cock jerk and his hips froze.

“Oh?”

You clenched above and below, feeling the hardness twitch uncontrollably.

A distressed whine from under the towel and quivering, bulging arms.

“Came already, even with the cock ring?” you hummed, letting go of his neck. No outright disapproval. Just a hint. It was enough, maybe even better for him. You could tell by the despair radiating from the muffled sounds, the upper half of his chest flushing pink.

The corner of your lips ticked upwards.

“Shhh.”

You patted his hard pecs, the ricocheting heartbeat under your palm as you lifted yourself off his slightly softening cock, still maintaining some hardness due to the choke of the cock ring. You removed both, careful with the condom so to not spill the milky liquid inside.

Set the sticky cock ring beside his crumpled jeans.

Leaned over and folded back the bottom half of the towel, exposing the tip of a nose and swollen pink lips with your black lace panties crammed into them, the fabric now saturated from his drool. You tugged at the makeshift gag and his jaw unlocked, gasping as you pulled it out, silver lip ring on the edge of that sinning mouth trembling.

You pressed your thumb to the small mole right below his mouth.

Rolled the pad of your finger, nicking his lower lip with your nail, dragging it down.

“Open up.”

So obedient.

Waiting, soft pink tongue so inviting in the darkness.

“Let’s be dirty together,” you whispered, voice rough from the wrongness of what you were about to do.

Jungkook whimpered in agreement.

You spat into his mouth.

He moaned, runny clear liquid sliding down his tongue, gulping awkwardly, his lips still somewhat open from your hand gripping his chin. You forced his jaw open even more, hooking your index finger into the inviting darkness, pressing onto his teeth.

Then you poured the contents of the condom into his mouth.

His own cum and traces of used lube, wringing the condom as his body jerked, disbelieving gurgle at the taste, unformed questions beneath your grip, but you dove down with a starving hiss, releasing his chin and covering his mouth with yours, thrusting your tongue inside to drink it too, cum and saliva and the bitter hint of latex, turning his shocked cries into guttural groans, your hand over his eyes, pinning the towel down as your tongue-fucked him.

The only thing that made the tainted taste bearable was the sweetness of saliva and the high of orgasm.

His cock slapped against your thigh, already hard again.

Sweat was soaking through the towel, damping your palm.

You yanked the white towel up, pulling it away from his face as your body turned, dropping the used condom and picking up another, swinging your leg around his waist to face the other way. Wiped your hand with the towel, throwing it aside carelessly when you were done. Not going to bother with the cock ring this time.

You ripped open the condom.

Slid it down his purple-red, throbbing length and then sat on it, immediately starting a harsh, intense pace.

Behind you, a thin gasp and then a ripple of tension over his body, traveling down his torso that your calves were pressed against, to his legs, hard thighs clutched in your hands, snapping your hips and clawing at the inside of his shaking legs, jaw clenched, fucking him, chasing your high. Closer. Closer to between his legs, scratching him so hard that you marked up that tan skin, closer.

You gripped his balls and closed in your knuckles, hard.

Jungkook cut off his own pitched, obscene moan, reducing it to a stifled scream behind closed lips.

You tightened your core and smacked your ass down into his crotch, over and over, putting your power into your hips and just enough to your hand, keeping him in the immobile enclosure of your rigid fingers, clenching your jaw and feeling the rise, the climb to the high, every second another click, click, clicking gears of this misfit toy intoxicated by savagery.

Grasped the inside of his thigh, tipping your head back with a hazy moan as you left red crescents of pain.

Jungkook wailed behind gritted teeth, thrown into painful ecstasy.

The pleasure snaked to every nerve. Electrifying, oppressive, brutal bliss with the locking of your hips, pulsating flinches constricting around twitching hardness. Once again pumping a condom full. Your grip on him loosening, so good, losing yourself in wave after shuddering wave of hazy orgasm as you ran your palms up and down his inflamed thighs, irritated lines raised from the points of your nails dug too deep.

His muscles were tense and shaking, struggling to come down and uncurl his toes.

What have I done?

-

She fell.

The movement was so swift that Jungkook didn’t notice until it was too late.

Her back arched gracefully, left arm shooting out, grabbing the switchblade from the pocket of his jeans and yanking, her other arm arcing back even faster, grabbing one of his bound wrists and then her fingers glided to the joined knot between them.

Her shoulder blades touched his shivering pecs.

She sliced clean through the rope with a single flick.

Jungkook gasped, startled at the speed and dexterity. His arms smacked to the floor, pins and needles radiating due to his wrists becoming suddenly slack with no support, the shreds of rope scattering. She sheathed the blade and threw it back on his jeans.

Panted on top of his heaving chest.

His cock was slipping out, but the soreness and heat of the marks she left kept his afterglow at an all-time high, hazy and delusional and running on fumes. His forehead was sweaty. His back was sweaty. There was definitely a puddle of cum and saliva under his ass, sticky and cooling. His arms were aching, not from the tension of the rope but the tension of himself, stressed from keeping his whole body taut to prevent himself from moving too much, leaving himself at the mercy of unpredictable pain and pleasure.

It was torture.

It was the best.

He peeled his right arm off the rug and settled it over her collarbones, holding her left shoulder. Shuddering, the brutal bliss ebbing against his will. Staring at the ceiling of his apartment, wondering what the fuck he had just done.

Jungkook felt light fingertips ghosting over his trembling, hard forearm.

“You have scars.”

Soft breath and tone, just for him.

He did.

“Y-Yeah…”

He placed his left arm over his eyes, puffing heavily from exertion.

“I got thrown out a window.”

She touched the back of his hand, tracing the lines of his tattoos and the whispers of healed wounds.

“A long time ago, when I was a teenager. It was an older building, my high school. The windows were basically just thin panes of old-ass glass. No reinforcement on the first level, so I didn’t break any bones, but I got really sliced up.” He chuckled airlessly, pressing her to his sweaty body. “I was fighting.”

“About what?”

The irony was too real.

“I slept with some guy’s girlfriend, apparently.”

Curious inquiry. “Apparently?”

He snorted. “She failed to let me know beforehand. But, for some reason, it was my fault more than hers and I’m the one that got beat up. Go figure.”

Her hand settled on his wrist, fingertips resting on his knuckles.

“I knocked him out after crashing through the window. My taekwondo teacher always told me that learning martial arts was not about hurting others, but this guy threw me out the window, so I got tired of holding back and made him eat dirt. After that, I took up boxing lessons too. Just ‘cause.”

Her body vibrated under his arm.

She was laughing, laying on top of him, naked body to naked body.

“You’re funny, Jungkook.”

-

“Why do you like it?”

He was shirtless and eating out of the ice cream tub with a spoon. “What?”

You tilted your head at him.

“The sadism.”

Jungkook turned bright red despite the hefty chunk of ice cream he just shoved into his mouth. Choked and whipped his head away, dragging himself and the chocolate ice cream that had a whole lot of things in it that could only be described as the components of a small diabetes bomb. You craned your head to try and see around that broad back. There was an odd fleshy sound and then a wheezing gulp. He whipped around, face still shockingly scarlet, awkwardly laughing, jamming the lid back on the cold-sweet-death confection.

The spoon clattered into the sink.

“T-That’s–”

You looked at him, confused.

“That’s–D-Do you hate it?” he blurted. Black strands tousled and curled around his cheeks. His long hair was a mess. The floor wasn’t, not anymore. You asked what to do to help, but Jungkook instead took you to the bathroom and gave you a fluffy white towel from a linen closet. By the time you had come out, the traces of rope and cum were gone. Wiped away, as if it had never happened. Your clothes had been folded in a neat pile, set carefully onto the coffee table.

You had put them on as you heard Jungkook moving around in the kitchen.

Your panties were in the trash can.

They couldn’t be saved.

In contrast, Jungkook was in gray sweatpants and no shirt. He was probably commando too, but you didn’t ask or look.

You frowned at his question. “I don’t–”

I don’t do things I hate.

You stopped speaking.

That’s not true.

You looked away, furrowing your brow. “I don’t hate it,” you said firmly. That much was true. “I like it with you.” You tucked your tongue in your cheek, thinking. “It’s different.” And now you were realizing it was different. You have had shameless, mindless, pointless sex. Of course. This much money and nothing but time to kill when your mother had her back turned and ass up? Naturally, you took advantage of the situation. Got yourself into tangled limbs and dubious positions. Nothing was shocking anymore. Nothing and no one tasted good.

Except Yoongi.

Because…

You shook your head quickly, cutting the thought off.

Jungkook called your name and you looked up, surprised it had sounded so far away for a moment. So far away, but you dragged yourself back to Jungkook and the questions in his eyes.

You found yourself taken aback as a new thought popped into your head.

“I like hurting you because you want it,” you breathed. “Because it’s not an internal emptiness you are trying to fill. You just like the idea of me in complete control of you and your body.”

And then, the question.

“Why?”

His fingers on the ice cream carton tightened. He was a lot less red now. Large brown eyes shifting. Light shrug that consisted of a single lift of his right shoulder, the black mandala inked there gleaming under the overheard lights from his movement.

Jungkook found your eyes again.

You stared into those clear irises.

You had become so accustomed to the ways of the world where everyone shot everybody. So used to always scrambling for ammo to load your gun, so familiar to your silence so no one had any bullets to use against you, so used to war as second nature when money was the terrible master, and you had become so accustomed to it that you forgot that not everyone was a servant.

Not everyone was hiding something in order to step on others.

You were born into this game. You toyed with the players because you learned that, if you didn’t, bad things would happen. You had to become the snake that charmed without a charmer. Alluring enough to slide by on good graces, dangerous enough to warrant a warning label, and always keeping everyone guessing what your next move was.

You had to become an object of wonder to survive.

But, when Jungkook looked at you, he put this misfit toy on the other side of wonder.

“Are you ever in complete control of anything, Master?”

-

“Daughter, I don’t understand. What is the big deal? I don’t say anything about you coming to work and then disappearing during the night, but, you know, he does notice. This is such a small thing you can do you settle his nerves. How many times have you done it? Come on. You can help me out once again. He’s becoming so irrational and ridiculous. You have the power to control him.”

“I’m not going to fuck him, Mother,” his stepsister spat coldly, saying the last word like it was a venereal disease.

Yoongi froze in the dark hallway, staring at the crack of light from the ajar door.

“Hah, I keep telling you, don’t say it like that,” his stepmother cooed, sounding like she had slapped her palm with her other hand in slight exasperation. “That’s so vulgar and uncouth. That’s not what this is.”

He had been slinking around the family mansion, trying to find her. The moment right before he left the living room kept repeating in his mind for days. He couldn’t focus on music. He couldn’t go out and drink at shitty bars. He couldn’t look at the Han River without wanting to throw himself in those dark churning waters, all because of the last time he and his stepsister made eye contact.

He didn’t give a shit what his father did to him.

And yet.

He saw his father’s hand on his stepsister and didn’t say anything about it.

What was there to say?

Yoongi did the same thing to her, only worse.

The glaring revelation closed him off. He saw the hurt in her eyes when he ran and yet he still ran, ran and ran and ran, thinking about nothing until he was locked in his music studio, surrounded by soju bottles, and then all that liquid streaming down his checks wasn’t alcohol, because all four bottles were empty.

“You’re so full of shit.”

The hostile snarl sliced through his thoughts.

Yoongi realized that he had never heard his stepsister angry before. Known she was angry, yes, but she had always maintained composure when she was in his presence. He had never heard her voice fanged with malice, every word festering hatred.

Never.

An icy itch slithered down his spine.

“Oh, because putting your husband’s dick in my mouth isn’t vulgar and uncouth. That’s something, especially after your doctor’s appointment.”

“Ugh, I’m aware and I’ll have that taken care of,” was the dismissive reply. “Let’s not get too technical. I will be beside you the entire time. Haven’t I always kept a roof over your head? Besides, these kinds of men are stupid and easy. He will last seconds. You’ll practically do nothing.”

“A fuckin’ doghouse would have been preferred over those motel roofs. And why are you even asking me? The Master can’t do it alone?”

His stepmother was beginning to sound annoyed, the cloying façade crumbling at the mocking. “How many dirty, pill-popping addicts have you let cum in you? You are being selfish and not thinking about the big picture. I am trying to keep this family in one piece. This kind of thing is so small in the grand scheme of things. Tch, can’t you see this from my perspective?”

Yoongi backed away from the door.

Silently, quickly, turning and walking fast. His heartbeat roaring in his ears, wishing it was loud enough to drown out the words from his memory even though he knew they were true, even though he could see it between wordless gazes and inappropriate touches, even though he had said it himself, accused outright, hoping.

Hoping his stepsister would vehemently argue that no such thing was going on.

She never did.

He had hoped that she enjoyed it, hoped he could hate her and wash his hands free.

Instead, she enjoyed his hands, his touch, his kiss.

Yoongi stopped at the end of the hallway, now standing in the foyer with the large windows and crystal skylight high above. Bright and airy. Expensive and vapid. The sun’s hazy rays streamed down all around him, diffused from the faceted glass.

He turned back and faced the dark hallway.

Called her name.

Waited.

-

“Don’t pretend. You don’t give a shit about this family. You’re here to get some ammo to load your gun so you can enjoy holding it against that old man’s head as he pays you an even fatter alimony to keep your mouth shut. What do you think I am? Pretty and stupid? You have been trying to trap me in this childlike mindset even as a grown adult. How convenient it would be if I believed you? If only I take this bait and do what you want so I can be just…”

Pausing to let the damage sink in.

“Like…”

Taking the moment to drive the knife in deeper.

“You?”

You backed up and turned around, hearing Yoongi yell your name again, louder this time.

“You’re miserable and fake, inside and out.”

You didn’t look back to see at you mother’s infuriated face. Didn’t hear her hissing at you to apologize, instead kicking the door wide open and stalking down the hallway in deliberate, large strides, white-hot anger scorching your veins, nearly colliding into Yoongi when you turned the corner. Gelled back, red-orange hair and all black outfit of a ripped denim jacket, designer t-shirt, and paint-stained jeans.

All of your fury dissipated once you saw him.

You cocked an eyebrow.

“What’s with you? Miss this that much, hm?”

You stuck your tongue out and smirked around it.

And you suddenly stopped, seeing his face. Something stricken across his sharp features caused your hesitation, pulling your tongue back. You had never seen this hopelessness before, especially not from Yoongi who was one that discarded everything and everyone with distrust. It must have only been milliseconds, but it was so potent in his expression that it was unmistakable.

Yoongi grabbed your left wrist so tightly that the glass beads of the chain bracelet you wore sharply pinched your skin.

“Come with me,” he breathed.

You felt your body lurch with his power and suddenly you were walking fast and he was walking faster, pushing past maids and butlers who pretended nothing happened, pushing past people living in the motto of better to feign blindness than to know, pushing past the sheep. He clutched your wrist like it was his lifeline. It hurt, but not in an unpleasant way. Confusion rippled through you and yet you let it happen, taking twice as many steps in your high heels and tight minidress, constricted by lace sleeves and a ruffled, high collar. All-black, just like him.

A pair of funeral-goers, maybe.

Apt for this household.

He practically dragged you down the stairs to the large garage with too many cars, shoving your keys from his pocket into your hand.

“Yoongi–”

He yanked your caviar leather cardholder out of his other jacket pocket and flashed it, jerking his chin to your vehicle.

“Get in.”

He didn’t have your cellphone and you didn’t ask him if he had it.

Your car unlocked as you neared the door handle. You got in, seeing your stepbrother throw himself into the passenger’s seat. Snapped the car door closed and tapped the button, whipping your head to him as the car hummed to life.

“I’m not your personal chauffeur, bro–”

“Please drive.”

You froze.

Yoongi was breathing hard, staring straight ahead.

“Please, drive and get us the fuck away from this house.”

You shut up and backed out of your spot. Put your foot on the accelerator and drove, just drove, Yoongi’s please ringing in your ears, taking a leaf out of his book and fuckin’ booking it out of there.

--

masterpost

[tired-teacher-blog]

Hi! if you don’t have too many requests, but if you do dont worry about this. Hawks with a s/o who doesn’t have much self worth, always criticise’s them selves. him comforting them after their therapist ghosts them (totally not self indulgent)

I hope you're feeling better sweetie, and here I have our precious Hawks ready to soothe your heart ❤️

Title : A night stroll

Characters : Hawks/ Gender neutral reader

Genre : Angst/Fluff/ One shot

Trigger Warning : Anxieties/ Low self esteem/ Mental therapy

Masterlist|Second Masterlist

"This is weird, why isn't he picking up?"

You muttered as you tried calling your therapist for the fourth time that day. You were supposed to have a session two days ago but when you showed up at his office as per the appointment agreed upon, his secretary told you he was too busy to see you, and didn't even have the courtesy to reschedule for you, even after you politely asked her to.

Her response was as ambiguous as her boss's behavior when she asked you to call him yourself for a reschedule.

"Should I call again? What's going on?"

Your heart sank as your mind wondered to the worst case scenarios.. was your doctor not feeling well enough to see you? was he bored of you already? did he give up on the possibility of you getting better? were your problems too much to handle even for a professional?

As farfetched as that last part might be, your growing anxieties and non-existent confidence and self worth made it seem like a reasonable point..

_ "Ah.. hello!" finally he picked up.

_ "Yes, hello." his assistant answered instead, even though you were calling his personal number.. strange.

_ "It's y/n calling to reschedule please."

_ "Right, sorry but Doctor (name) will no longer be able to see you, so he will forward you to one of his trusted colleagues, let me pass you their phone number, they're already aware of your condition and agreed to take you in."

_ "Another doctor?" you couldn't understand the issue, neither could you find it in yourself to ask.

You simply thanked the woman and hung up the phone before collapsing on the couch.

So it was true, he gave up on you for some reason and didn't even have the decency to give you an explanation.

Honestly though, why would anyone bother explaining themselves to you? Why would you think that you deserve any kindness right now when your whole life has been a constant reminder that you don't?

It's shameful really, you genuinely thought that you were doing well with your therapy, even Keigo thought so too.. Keigo..

Will he ever leave you too? He had never given you a reason to suspect that he would, neither had he ever missed a chance to remind you of his undying love, and as happy as it should make you feel, knowing that he could easily do better never left your brain.

You felt like you were drowning, that maybe it would be best if you just disappeared, even Keigo's life would definitely be better without you..

_ ".. you okay?"

You flinched as a familiar warm hand held yours gently.

_ "K.. Keigo" how did he manage to get in without you noticing? How long had he been there? Were you so lost in your self pity to notice him approaching?

_ "What's going on beautiful? I've been calling your name for a while but you were too distracted to hear me." his eyebrows furrowed and his signature smirk was nowhere to be seen.. yeah, that was your doing, you managed to trouble the one you loved the most, and the realization felt like a spear piercing your heart.

_ "I'm fine, really, it's nothing I promise." you lied through your teeth and he knew it.

_ "It's me y/n, you know you can talk to me about anything right? I know you're only pretending to be alright so you wouldn't worry me, but all I want is for you to talk to me freely." his hold on your hand tightened, and you knew you owed him at least that much.

You started talking, not only about your doctor abandoning you, but also about everything his action inflicted on you.

And for once, you held nothing back and expressed in great detail your fears and your overwhelming low self esteem, your shame and your feeling of unworthiness, and especially the suffocation that comes when all those dark thoughts battle inside your head.

He listened to you carefully, gently wiping your tears away and kissing the back of your hand reassuringly, but never dared interrupting you because it was the first time you spoke so openly to him.

He knew how you felt already even if you didn't say it outright— of course he did, but hearing you finally talk straightforwardly was a definite step in the right direction.

You looked up hesitantly, only to be met with a big smile that strangely soothed you a lot more than the countless sessions you had with your doctor.

_ "I'm happy you're finally able to talk to me with no hesitation, but first, wanna go out with me?" his smile remained and you found yourself nodding instantly.

He stood up, pulling you along, but instead of walking to the front door, he went straight to the balcony, "oh yeah, we're gonna fly."

You opened your mouth to protest but a yelp came out instead as he picked you up in his arms and jumped out of your fifth floor appartement.

Your screams were buried in his neck as he carried your tense body.

_ "You trust me don't you?" he whispered against your temple before placing a soft kiss on your skin.

You nodded fervently but your face remained deep in the crook of his neck. You felt his chuckles rumbling in his throat, "then look up."

It took you a moment to do so, but when you finally found the courage to open your eyes, you were met with the most beautiful sight in the world. The big clear night sky decorated with countless stars, the city lights underneath your feet, the soft clean air fanning over your face, and most importantly, you were sharing all this with him.

_ "Keigo, this is amazing!" and for once your heart felt lighter.

_ "Take a deep breath honey," he urged and you obeyed, immediately regretting all the times he begged you to go out with him like that and you refused, "your doctor is a jerk, I cannot believe someone like that is allowed to treat people, but you know what? you're actually lucky he did what he did, I'll pull a few strings and find you a much better one in no time I promise."

_ "You would? really?" though it shouldn't come as a surprise that your boyfriend has some influence— being the number two hero and one of the most powerful people in the country.

_ "I would do anything for you, no matter what it is," his bright smile never failed to soothe your heart, "listen carefully y/n, because I'll say this as many times as it takes for you to believe it, and then some.. I love you so much and I always will, so please never doubt.."

You didn't know what came over you all of a sudden, but you had the urge to kiss him and so you did. You felt him smiling against your lips before nibbling on your lower one playfully, you were so lost in him, that you didn't realize when he landed on top of a building until your feet had finally touched the ground.

_ "I'm proud of you y/n, you are truly strong even if you fail to see it," he took your hands in his and kissed them as you two stood at the edge of the tall building, "I have no doubt that you are capable of overcoming any obstacle that faces you, and I will be holding your hand while you do it."

_ "I don't know what to say Keigo except, I love you," you smiled as you tilted your head to the side, "you've always believed in me when no one else did, I'm sorry for constantly pushing you away when all you've ever wanted was to see me happy." your smile suddenly disappeared as the overwhelming feeling of guilt took over you.

_ "Of course I believe in you! you've been fighting your whole life while counting on no one but yourself, you've accomplished so much and that's admirable," he cradled your cheeks while gently lifting your head up, "there is no reason for you to apologize because you did nothing wrong, I'm just happy you're finally comfortable enough to share everything with me, and to allow me to support you just as you've always supported me."

_ "I'm happy too! I just wish I did a lot sooner." you placed your hands on top of his and squeezed them gently.

_ "Well, nothing is lost beautiful, we have all the time in the world."

And he was right, opening up to him was the best thing you allowed yourself to do.

That night, on top of that tall building, you made a promise to never push him away again, a promise that brought you both happiness.

[lydias--stiles]

Love is Blind x Juke

For the past two days @thedeathdeelers and I have spiralled into a Love Is Blind x Juke fanfic in the dm's and this is what came out of it. So, a co-written Imène and Ophelia special for Juke Jeudi. Ta-da!

///

“Hi,” a voice called out from the other side of the Pod. This was it. The start of this mess. 

Luke perked up. "Uh, hey, I'm Luke."

"I'm Julie." A pause. Then a laugh. "This is really weird, huh?"

Luke laughed as well, the tension of the last twenty-four hours slipping away. One second he was drunk in his apartment with his buddies on the Netflix website, the second he was on a flight to San Diego for a freaking reality dating show. Or rather: a marriage show. Insane. But whatever. It wasn't like he was actually going to find someone. He was just gonna lay low, write some songs, and then dip after ten days.

"So, Julie, what made you sign up for this thing?" he asked, draping himself across the couch. A cup of rum and coke dangled in his hand.

"Um… I guess I wanted to do something I'd never do. I'm always waiting for love, you know, instead of… just going for it. So here I am. What about you?" Her voice was pretty, slightly raspy, yet melodic, and he felt himself listening to her intently.

"I'm here to write songs," he replied, blunt.

She laughed. "What?"

"Yep."

"You're here… for songs?"

"Don't take this the wrong way," he said, "but this is like a retreat for me."

"Well, that's excellent, actually," she replied, smooth. "Because I happen to be a songwriter."

***

Julie went into her second date after an hour long conversation about music and their favourite bands with Luke. She felt giddy, but knew a first impression didn’t mean anything in an experiment like this. Sitting down, she called out: "Hello?"

"Hi, I'm Nick," a male voice said.

Julie smiled. "I'm Julie."

"Julie," he repeated, and she heard the scribbling of paper. "So, tell me about yourself, Julie."

"Um… what do you wanna know?"

"Where are you from?" he asked. 

Easy enough. "I’m from Los Feliz."

"No way!" He laughed. "Me too!"

Her brows raised. "Really? Where did you go to school?"

"LF Public High."

"Ah," she sighed, "I went to the arts school. It would be crazy if we've met each other before."

"Or maybe it's fate," he teased.

An amused smile twitched on her lips. Guys that flirted with the word ‘fate’ to wrap a girl around their finger; she’s met those before. "Yeah, who knows."

***

After three full days of jamming and creating music with Luke, somehow able to connect on such an intense level with a shimmery wall between them, they found themselves in amiable silence. It wasn’t awkward, somehow. The song they worked on had been rather emotional, about family and history and regret. It brought back memories she hadn’t dared to discuss in the Pods. But now… 

“Not to like, um,” she licked her lips, “dump all my trauma, but—”

“It’s okay,” he whispered.

“My mom, uh, died… two years ago.” Julie took a steadying breath, though let the tears roll as they came. He didn’t see her. She could cry. “She’d been sick for a while—terminal cancer—so we were prepared, but… nothing actually prepares you for it.” She heard him hum, encouraging her to continue. “And that’s why I applied for the show. The day she died, I felt like I died with her. I’ve just been on auto-pilot. So, ‘Love Is Blind’ was honestly this, like, desperate attempt to feel again, but I didn’t think I’d actually marry someone. I just wanted to break free of this dead feeling… if that makes sense.”

After a beat of silence, Luke said, “It does. Trust me, it does. I’m sorry, Jules, for your loss. That’s the worst thing that could ever happen, I–” A curt laugh left him. “I wish I could hug you right now, fuck.”

“It’s okay,” she sniffled.

“You’re probably the strongest person I know, not gonna lie,” he continued. “Trying to keep living after that… you should be so proud, Jules.”

Julie’s lip wobbled as she sank to the carpeted ground and shuffled to the shimmery wall, pressing one hand against it. She hadn’t had a sip of alcohol today—even though the producers wanted her to—so she knew all she felt was pure.

“I am proud,” she agreed. “Only a crazy alive person locks themselves in a Pod for seventeen hours a day.”

A laugh barked out of him. Jumping off the couch, he sat cross-legged in front of the shimmery wall. His heart hammered a nervous beat. “I, uh, relate, to be honest, to, like, mom stuff.”

“Oh?”

“My mom hasn’t died, fortunately, but… when I was seventeen, we got in a really big fight. Like, we said some nasty stuff to each other. I ran away. I didn’t speak to them for six years.” He shook his head. “And I know it’s not the same. Trust me, I know. I left by choice. But it felt like the death of my bond with them. I felt like I was dead to my parents. They never tried looking for me. Maybe because they knew where I was, but… they never tried reaching out. Until I did it at twenty-three.”

Julie sighed, “I’m so sorry, Luke.”

“It caused me to produce some fire songs, but… I don’t know if it was worth it.” He chuckled, tears rolling down his cheeks in surprise. “I don’t think I ever told someone that before.”

Julie smiled. “I’ll keep it a secret. Thank you for sharing that with me, Luke.”

“No problem,” he tried to sound nonchalant, but to him, it came off infinitely grateful.

“How’s your relationship with them now?” she asked.

“It’s… it’s alright. It’s not perfect in the slightest, but, you know, I come around for dinner or lunch at least once a month, I keep them in the loop, they keep me in the loop, they’ve attended one of my concerts…” He trailed off. “We’ve come a long way.”

“That’s great to hear,” she smiled. “Family is so important to me, so I would’ve felt so bad if I wouldn’t be able to—” She paused, warmth spreading in her body and face.

Luke frowned. “What?”

“If, um, if I wouldn’t be able to, um, meet them,” she uttered awkwardly. They had come to the silent agreement that they wouldn’t marry and simply be each other’s confidante for the ten days in the Pods. Julie has never felt like this before though. She felt… she was in love. Which was crazy, but how else could she explain the feeling in her gut?

A smile grew on Luke’s face. “You wanna meet them?”

“Don’t goad me like that!”

Luke laughed. “I’m not! I’m not! It’s… it’s cute, Julie, that you wanna meet them. Y’know, I wanna meet your dad, too. He sounds cool.”

Julie smiled. Her heart felt like bursting. “He is.”

***

The next day, Julie stood in the kitchen of the women’s quarters stirring a carrot and bell pepper soup on the stove. Luke’s favourite. If they ever were to meet in real life, she’d introduce him to other, way better, soups, but this would do for now.

Suddenly, Carrie—another contestant—appeared beside her. “You’re talking with Luke, right?” Carrie asked. 

Julie looked up. “Yeah, why?”

“Well,” she shrugged, haughty, “he's my number one, so.”

Julie frowned. Luke’s her number one? Since when? She had never heard Carrie speak about him. Did something happen in the Pods that she wasn’t aware of? “I thought Nick was your number one.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Nick is so passive. I like Luke a lot more. I mean, musicians are hot, right?”

Carrie was baiting her, Julie realised, replying with a weak: “I… I guess…”

“Yeah,” Carrie affirmed, “so he’s my number one. I heard he’s yours, too.” The blonde tried to pull off an air of nonchalance as she inspected her perfectly manicured nails, but Julie didn’t bother with an answer and chose to add a pinch more paprika to the soup instead. She smiled; yeah, he’d like that.

Aggrieved Julie didn’t respond, Carrie continued: “So, why are you making soup?”

Julie threw a disbelieving look at Carrie. “It’s for Luke. For his birthday?”

Carrie, who had already lost interest in the conversation, suddenly whipped her head back towards Julie, hair flicking with the motion. “It’s his birthday? When? Since when?”

Julie rolled her eyes at the girl, and shook her head. Deciding to make a dig, she said: “I thought he was your number 1?”

Carrie frowned and pointed at the pot. “Can I give him some, too?”

"No,” Julie puffed, in disbelief that the woman even dared to ask her that. “That's honestly weird for you to ask, Carrie. It’s disingenuous."

"Okay, whatever," she grumbled and skulked away to talk to Kayla.

***

"So... I talked to Carrie..." Julie brought up after Luke had accepted and had taken a swig of her homemade soup. It had to be their sixth date at this point, but it has felt like forever. 

The man looked up from his guitar in confusion, wracking his brain for the last time he spoke to Carrie. "Okay?"

"She said you're her number one."

His frown deepened. "What? Really? We've spoken maybe twice."

"Oh." A relieved laugh left Julie. "Oh, wow. Then she's super jealous, or something." Her cheeks felt warm. "I was a little worried for a second, to be honest."

Luke grinned. "Yeah?"

"Mh-hm..."

"Y'know, I was worried about Nick," he confessed.

That surprised her. "Really? Why?"

"‘Cause I know you did have a connection with him."

"Yeah," she admitted, "but not in the way that we connect. Nick's like... a friend. That's all."

"Then you should tell him that," Luke said, amused. "'Cause he thinks you guys are fated."

Julie rolled her eyes. "Oh, jeez."

***

It was his favourite time of the day—sprawled across the sofa, snacks littering the floor—as he scratched out a chorus to Sunset Curve’s new song.

But that’s not why it was his favourite.

It was his favourite because he could just about hear Julie scribbling in her own journal right across that damn shimmery wall separating them, almost picturing frown lines between her brows. Which was weird, ‘cause he had never actually seen her.

It was weird, right?

But that didn’t stop him. Luke felt a silly grin taking over his features as he hummed along what he imagined would be the pre-chorus, leg swinging over the armrest—

And then he froze, stopping all movement.

Because he could be hallucinating, but he swore he just heard singing coming from the other room. The one that contained Julie. The human wrecking ball that had already captivated him before he had ever seen her.

Or heard her, apparently.

Holy shit. Holy shit. 

Luke nearly fell off the couch as he stumbled into a sitting position, jumping from his spot to the shimmery wall. He splayed his fingers as he pressed his palms against the damn thing keeping them apart, and then placed his ear against it.

He stopped moving; stopped breathing. She was singing. And it was fucking beautiful.

Shit. He was fucked.

He remembered Julie telling him about her complicated relationship with music; how she hadn’t sang in over a year. But now she was singing, here, with him, and he was finding it so hard to keep himself in check. He could clearly hear Alex’ voice in his head telling him to ‘cool it, Patterson. You’re going to scare her off.’

And that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Afterwards, Luke barged into the men's quarters and yelled: “I'm marrying Julie!”

Dean barely looked up from his paperback. “Yeah, we know.”

"You haven't talked about anyone else," Seth added.

"Oh," Luke said, scratching the back of his head. "Well, yeah. Now I'm gonna do it."

"Cool, man," Garrett grinned. "Get that woman!"

***

On the tenth day, Julie wore her prettiest dress. A purple number, nothing too special, as she hadn’t actually thought to get married on this show. The other women had ornate dresses, but she’d have to do with this one. 

Then again, she wasn’t actually sure Luke would propose. He told her he loved her, but that didn’t mean he wanted to marry her in a month; that didn’t mean he wanted to go through with the experiment; the reality show. 

Opening the door to the Pod, she heard Luke already pacing on his side. 

“Hi,” she said.

“Oh!” he exclaimed. “Hey!”

She paused at the wall. “You’re nervous?”

“It’s the tenth day, so, uh…” Luke shook his head and stared at the silly velvet box in his hands. This was ridiculous. Insane. Every other synonym for that word. He wasn’t marriage material. He was a guy from an underground rock band that came here to get inspired and write. But here he fucking was.  

“I don’t wanna say we’re fated, ‘cause I don’t believe in that shit,” he suddenly continued, the words flowing out of him. 

Julie smiled. “Me neither.”

“But I do—I do think you’re my person, Julie. That we should be together outside of the Pods. When we make music it’s like–like–”

“Magic,” she finished, her smile widening and her hands pressing against the wall. 

“Yeah,” he breathed. Sinking onto both knees, he kept his eyes on the box. “We’re magic together, I think. And I love you. I know that. I love you.”

Julie let her forehead drop against the wall as she giggled. Nothing about this made sense. No one would be able to understand what she felt right now. “I love you, too.”

“So… Julietta Rose Victoria Marie Molina…” He took a steadying breath. Now or never. “Will you do me the honour of marrying me?”

An elated sob left the woman, nodding profusely despite him being unable to see her. “Yes!” she exclaimed. “Yes!”

***

The white doors slid open in a swoop and their identities were revealed. Luke took a step forward and found his jaw falling slack at the short woman several feet away from him. She… was perfect. Down to those cute, scribbled-on sneakers.

Julie laughed, showcasing a gap between her teeth, and waved at him. "Hi."

"Hey," he grinned, his walk turning into a jog—he had to get to her—and grabbed her into a hug. "Holy shit."

"I know," she laughed, latching onto him. "Neither of us had a proposal outfit packed."

"Julie–Jules, you–" Pulling away slightly, he felt moisture building in his eyes from the shock and tension. His hands cupped her cheeks. "You're–wow."

"Thanks," she giggled, her eyes also wet. "You're wow, too."

***

After the couples arrived in the resort in Mexico, Julie and Luke settled into their suite. They unpacked their suitcases as they chatted about their flight, rosy-cheeked and happy. The camera flipped to Julie in the confessional, seated on the terrace in a pretty blue dress.

"Luke and I have arrived in Mexico," Julie said. "And it's definitely weird, suddenly, like, being able to touch him and see him, but it also feels so natural. We're just really excited to continue growing what we have and make more music."

"Julie's gonna do the speaking for me this vacay," Luke added next in his confessional, a big smile stretched across his cheeks. "I'm twenty-nine, guys, I've forgotten 10th grade Spanish, y'know."

“Yes, we’ve kissed,” Julie continued, shy, “on the plane. We wanted to do it away from the cameras, and um… it was–it was good.” Her eyes averted as her smile grew. “It was really good.”

Luke plopped down on the bed. “What do you wanna do first? Check out the pool? The beach?”

“The buffet,” she emphasised. “I’m super hungry.”

He laughed. “Sounds good to me.”

Julie slid beside him. “I also wanted to talk to you about something, now that we’re here…”

Luke nodded. “Okay.”

“Um… so we’re now sharing a bed…”

“Yeah.”

“I’d like to wait until after the wedding before we have sex,” she admitted. His face gave nothing away, simply listening to her. “It’s not that I’m not attracted to you, I am, but it’s something I want to honour, you know?”

“Of course,” he whispered. “I can wait, Julie, don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah?”

“Sex isn’t that important to me,” he said with a shrug. “It’s great, but it’s not everything.”

“Duh,” she deadpanned. “Music is.”

He laughed. “Exactly, you get it.”

The woman let out a relieved breath. She didn’t think Luke would be appalled, but she hadn’t been totally sure. Now, she could sleep beside him without the stress. Kissing his cheek, she said, “Besides, we can do other stuff.”

He wiggled his brows, mischievous. “‘Other’ stuff?”

With a roll of the eye, she pushed him away and got up. “Let’s get food.”

“Yes, Boss!”

***

The next day in Mexico, all the couples met up at the pool. It was the first time they all could see each other and properly meet. Neither Julie or Luke were worried their affection would sway, but they were nervous to approach Carrie and Nick. Both had claimed a connection, but now they were a couple themselves.

It especially bothered Luke, if he was honest. Julie was… incredibly beautiful, especially in that purple dress she wore tonight, and he wasn’t blind to the eyes Nick had been giving her. 

Afterwards, Julie and Luke sat on the bed curled towards each other, discussing the events of the night.

"So... what did you think of Nick?" Luke asked, feigning nonchalance.

Julie smirked at his obvious attempt to seem cool. "He was… nice."

"Yeah? Got a crush on him?"

"Sure," Julie deadpanned, "and that was why the conversation ended after, like, two minutes, and I stayed by your side for the rest of the night."

Luke grinned and placed a hand on her knee. "Yeah?"

"Mh-hm." She caressed his tattooed arm. "Don’t worry. I... there's not a shadow of doubt it's you, Luke. Trust me."

Luke's smile melted into fondness. "I trust you."

***

After Mexico—where one of the couples devolved and split up, leaving four couples left—they all returned to Los Angeles. Unfortunately, they couldn’t move back into their regular apartments, but all had to share the same complex. Julie and Luke lived on the third floor in a shiny, white apartment. It was the furthest thing from Luke’s actual place.  

On a positive note, they could finally introduce their partner to their friends and family. Like now. 

"Today, I'm meeting Luke's friends and band members," Julie said to the camera, standing outside of Luke’s studio in the heart of Mar Vista. "I've talked with them on the phone a couple days ago, but this'll be the first time we'll be face to face."

Luke drifted on his heels as he barely looked at the camera, clearly addressing Julie. "I'm not worried. Julie's, like, the puzzle piece we've been missing. And I fucking love her. So. Yeah."

Julie and Luke walked in where Reggie and Alex were already seated in an old, leather couch. Reggie seemed nonchalant, but Alex often flitted his eyes to the camera.

"Hi," Julie greeted. "I'm Julie!"

"Ooh," Reggie cooed. "You're even prettier IRL!"

Alex eyed her in disbelief. "Yeah. Blink twice if you wanna escape our Luke."

"Awesome support, guys," Luke grumbled.

Julie worried that the boys perhaps thought that what she and Luke had was too good to be true—that it wouldn’t last—and all it would do was interrupt their music career. She didn’t stop worrying until Alex gently pulled her away from the guys mid-practice session, and took her on a short walk around the garden.

Somehow, he knew exactly what was on her mind—and exactly what to tell her.

“Luke’s a pretty open book with just about everyone, or that’s what people think. He likes to show everyone all the good sides to him; the music, the cheerful attitude, the constant pep-talks. But he’s never, and I mean never, talked to anyone about his mom as openly as he did with you.” Alex stopped to turn and face Julie. “He’s always worried about dumping all his problems on others and it’s been his thing ever since we’ve known him. He just hides it all to himself, until he explodes and writes a song about it.”

He shrugged, though Julie could see the worry in Alex’ eyes. “But the fact that he shared some of that stuff with you, let you hear ‘Unsaid Emily’… Julie, you’re it for him. And if you’re it for Luke, you’re it for us.” Alex grimaced at his choice of words, but didn’t correct himself, choosing instead to smile encouragingly at Julie.

A moved Julie nodded in relief and pulled the drummer into a tight hug. “Thank you,” she whispered. 

That evening, it was time for Luke to meet Julie’s family, namely: her father, brother and aunt Victoria. The rest of the family would attend the wedding. Which, according to Julie, was ‘a lot’. She’d prepped him for tonight, but she still seemed nervous as she rang the bell and waited for the door to open. 

“What’s the prob?” he asked. 

“Well—”

The door flung open and an older woman in athleisure squealed at the sight of Luke. “Lukas! Come in, come in! Oh, mija, you did such a good job picking him!”

“Tia—”

“My name is Luke, actually—”

Victoria continued unperturbed and ushered them inside. He barely had time to soak in the interior as she continued babbling on. "Thank you, Lukas—" Victoria gushed.

"It's Luke—"

"—for taking my Julie off the street. Twenty-seven! Who would've thought!"

"Ah, yes," Julie drawled beside him, slightly peeved. "The old crone's age of twenty-seven."

“I think she was the one who took me off the street,” he said, throwing a smirk Julie’s way to ease the nerves a bit.

Her father and brother popped in from the kitchen, the former with a wide smile and the latter rather sceptical. “Is that my daughter’s fiancé I hear?”

***

"Luke is meeting my best friend, Flynn, today," Julie said outside of a bar. "I'm a little nervous, because Flynn is super protective of me, but I think it'll be fine!"

Luke smirked. "People love me. Everything will be great!"

That was, until Flynn said a quick hello and then shoved a ten-page questionnaire in his face. She smirked. “Just to see you’re not a serial killer and won’t break my friend’s heart.”

“Because those two are mutually important,” Julie replied, sarcastic. 

Luke scratched the back of his head as he thumbed through the pages. “I–I have to do this now?”

“Why? Scared?” Flynn pressed. “Also—” She whipped a cotton swab from her pocket and grabbed Luke’s face, pushing his mouth open. "Just the usual," she muttered and swabbed the inside of his cheek. "Just normal DNA things…”

After the horrible bar situation, Julie paced along the kitchen island continuously apologising for her friend’s behaviour. “I swear she’s usually not like this, I’m so embarrassed, like she’s protective, but not—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Luke grabbed her shoulders to stop her from pacing with a relaxed smile. “Yeah, it was weird, but it wasn’t the end of the word.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “You have a Flynn, I have a Reggie and Alex," he soothed. "It's all cool."

***

As Carrie and Nick argued for the umpteenth time at the Cheese Tasting Date, Luke and Julie were bent over Luke's songbook, scribbling and discussing the bridge of a song.

"No, no, there should be an inverse and then, like, the reveal, that he was never there at all," Julie said.

"I don't wanna write a sad song, Jules. It's a love song," Luke bounced back.

"I mean—" She popped a piece of brie in her mouth. "---it is a love song, just not a happy one."

A grin ticked up his lips. "Is it about Nick and Carrie?"

Julie swatted his arm. "Luke!"

"What! C'mon, Jules, look at 'em." He nodded at the pair currently shouting at each other outside, two cameras on them. "They're not exactly soulmates."

Another pairing, Vivian and Dean, joined them at their table. "Oh my God," Vivian said, "can Carrie and Nick just end it already?"

"Carrie wants those followers, she can't leave just yet," Dean added with a roll of the eyes.

"Yeah," Julie trailed, "it's... a lot."

"What're you working on, dude?" Dean asked.

Luke grinned. "A song, obviously."

Viv sighed dreamily. "It's so romantic, honestly, that you guys have, like, a 'thing'."

Dean frowned. "We have a thing."

His fiancée's brows raised, challenged, and Luke and Julie recoiled into their songwriting shell again.

***

The wedding was a no-brainer. After a teary-eyed dress fitting and a fun bachelorette party with the girls—where Carrie tried to disrupt her happiness one final time—Julie found herself in the hotel room of a beautiful ranch where she and Luke would officiate their marriage. Somehow, the month felt like a year and her relationship with Luke felt like a decade. 

“Are you nervous?” Flynn asked, buttoning Julie into her dress. 

She shook her head. “No, just healthy jitters.”

“Good.” The two stared at each other in the mirror. “You deserve this, girl.”

Victoria came in with glasses of champagne. “Well, I’m nervous, so drink up, my loves.”

On the other side of the hotel, Luke, Alex and Reggie sat in the plush chairs, ready for the wedding. Luke’s foot bounced up and down in anticipation, ready to hold her and kiss her and be hers. He knew he was a romantic, but he never thought it could get this deep. 

“Do you think she’ll say yes?” Alex asked. 

Luke nodded. “Yeah. There’s honestly not a doubt in my mind, dude.”

“But what if she does?”

“Then…” Luke took a swig of his beer as a salute. “Then we’ll have a killer album in no time.”

Soon after, the ceremony began. Luke first went down the aisle where he smiled and nodded at all his friends and family. His parents sat in the front and smiled proudly at him. 

And then came Julie. Julie, in a beautiful gown and a shimmering face, taking his breath away. It felt like he had tunnel vision. She, too, couldn’t look anywhere but him, and felt her racing heart calm down the second he helped her up the steps. Her father had tears in his eyes as he gave her away. 

“Hi,” she whispered. 

“Hey,” he whispered back, smiling, “you look gorgeous.”

“Thank you.”

The officiator began his speech, Luke and Julie exchanged quick vows—though most has been said in the countless lyrics they’ve written together—and they sealed it all with a kiss. They were married. Forever. 

For the final time, Julie spoke to the camera with shiny cheeks and sparkling eyes. “How do I feel? I mean, I think you can guess.”

Luke jumped into frame and picked her up, bridal-style. “You’re looking at Miss Julie Molina-Patterson, Netflix! Hell yeah!”

***

At the reunion, they were the only couple left standing. Obviously.

***

[btsgotjams27]

this is us ~ jjk | 6

after a hard conversation with your mother, you learn some new things about yourself.

✨ title: this is us | (sequel to all grown up) ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: m/18+ | minors dni ✨ genre/au: drama, romance, angst, fluff, smut | est!relationship, age gap, bff's younger brother ✨ playlist ✨ a/n: if you haven’t read the prequel to this, please do so here! :) you can read them here on AO3 & Wattpad

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] | next ✨ drabble ~ girl's night out

chapter six ~ it's not all rainbows and butterflies | wc: 5.5k warnings: oc has a hard conversation with her mother, oc'smom is the worst, oc keeps secrets from jungkook b/c she's scared, a joke about oc being a p*do (they're being mean girls to her), jin overhears a convo and is about to throw punches, kissing, touching, groping (like i said!! nothing new here, they're in love and it's gross), jungkook is such a tease and cocky af, allusions to sex

~ Two months together ~

Getting to this point in your relationship with Jungkook wasn't an easy task - in particular, with your mother. She was beyond furious when you told her. The thought of you choosing to be with someone close to a decade younger than you completely disgusted her. She loved Jungkook, adored him, and even thought of him like her son, but she couldn't support your relationship with him.

"Please explain how this happened," she asked with anger rising in her tone while pacing back and forth.

"It started after the family reunion. We hung out a lot, and things just happened." You tried explaining without giving too much detail - especially when the pair of you were going to maul each other at your house during dinner with her and Yuna.

"Things just happened?" She scoffed. "What does Yuna think about all this?"

You cleared your throat before answering, "...she didn't like it at first. We didn't talk for a little bit while planning her wedding, but she's fine with it now." Honestly, you needed to sit down and talk to your best friend, like sit down and hash this all out, but she just got married, so you keep telling yourself - you hated having hard conversations.

"You were dating him before Yuna's wedding?" Your mother asked sternly. There was anger and resentment in her eyes, and the tone of her voice amped up even more. "Who would do that to their best friend?"

There it was, the one thing you had to struggle with only a few months ago. What she said triggered you. You fought through all the voices in your head telling you that you were the worst best friend in the world already. You didn't need to go through all that again. And who was she to judge you in the first place? You had a running list of the things you didn't approve of from her. Though she never cared much for you, why would it even matter?

"No! We weren't dating or anything. We were just hanging out more than usual..." you lingered with your sentence, not wanting to explain more than you needed to. She didn't need to know that you made the first move or how he kissed you in your childhood bedroom while she and Yuna were only a few feet away in the other room.

"I can't believe I have to call you my daughter," she muttered under her breath.

"Mom..." The muscle sitting inside your chest cavity sank to your stomach. Did she really have to say that? Did she really hate you that much? What have you ever done to her to deserve that? You've done everything that she's ever asked, but somehow you still failed to meet her expectations. She was the only living relative you had left, and she continued to treat you like nothing, like an outsider, like someone who didn't deserve her time.

"Your father would be furious if he were here," she huffed as she sat down." I need to sit before I pass out."

"You have to call me your daughter? What's that supposed to mean?"  You frowned before kneeling in front of her. "Mom...I'm sorry I've been never been able to live up to your expectations, but that comment was low, even for you." This conversation sucked big time, but her comment, her words, continue to pierce into the depths of your soul - a grown-ass woman you are, and the one person you needed continued to, without shame, detest your existence. You wondered what you needed to do for her to accept you as you were.

She couldn't even look at you. That's how ashamed she was. Your whole life, it seemed like you couldn't do anything right in her eyes. She would praise her friend's kids for their success but would fail to acknowledge yours. And that hurt...deeply, not having the approval of your own mother.

"I suppose it's time to tell you," she finally spoke, still avoiding your gaze.

You sat back, resting on your feet, trying your best to speculate what she could possibly tell you. "Tell me what?" Would she finally admit fault?

"I only have to call you my daughter because of your father..."

You weren't sure what she meant by that...well, of course, you were their daughter.

"I promised I would keep this a secret for your father's sake, but now that he's not here with us anymore, I see no reason to keep it from you anymore."

You froze. A part of you didn't want her to continue. Could it be worse than the situation at hand or add more fuel to your strained relationship? Whatever it was...it would change your life either way.

"You're not my daughter," she stated openly, sighing as she leaned back on the dining chair. She finally gazed down at you, almost proud of the words that came out of her mouth.

"Now you're just trying to hurt me, and it's working. Good job, mom."

"I'm not lying. What reason would I have to lie to you? Your father had an affair very early on in our marriage, and that woman..." she said with bitterness in her voice, "died after giving birth to you. She listed your father as next of kin...and well, here you are."

Eventually, it hit you. You understood why she hated you so much and never bothered to have a relationship with you. She couldn't tolerate looking at you, raising someone else's child, raising someone who wasn't hers.

"How did it go with your mom?" Jungkook asked, even though he could already tell by the tears forming that it didn't go well.

Already on the verge of tears, you shook your head and mumbled, "Not good." With your shoulders slumped over and head down, you were biting your lip, trying your hardest not to break down in front of Jungkook. There were a lot of things you didn't like, and crying was one of them.

You hated being so vulnerable, so weak...it felt like someone cut open your chest and left you to bleed out.

He walked over and gently enveloped you in his arms, one hand wrapped around your waist and the other around the nape of your neck. His chin nestled into your shoulder, whispering, "It's going to be okay. We'll be fine."

It was hard to accept what he said. Would it ever truly be okay? Your mother was never the 'best friend' type, and you were never looking for that. All you wanted was someone to listen, to support you...to love you. It was hard to reflect on your life and try to find joyful moments with her. There were hardly any, and if there were, your dad was always there.

You wrapped your arms around Jungkook, trying not to soak his shirt with your tears, but failing miserably - mascara running, snot coming out of your nose, all-around ugly crying. You started to sob into his chest softly. He pulled you closer, gently shushing you and caressing your hair, whispering, "I'm here. It's okay, I'm here. I'm never leaving you," making you sob even more.

There was a risk in stepping into a relationship with him, but it was one you were willing to make. Regardless of the stares and side-eyes you received from strangers on the streets and whispers from relatives and family friends, and you'd do anything for him.

Thoughts were racing through your mind, replaying the conversation with your mother. You didn't tell Jungkook about the second half of the conversation. He would eventually come to know, but you didn't have the heart to tell him because you needed time to process it yourself. You didn't want him to pity you, your situation, or your family. And to be honest, you weren't sure if you could even spit it out in coherent words.

After a month of constant arguing and the same conversations, the two of you had enough and agreed to stay out of each other's lives. It hurt to see your mom not support you, but you weren't surprised at all. Ever since your dad passed away, the first protector of your heart wasn't there to guide you and hold your hands through hardships. If he were here, he'd understand your choice and support you in every way that he could.

You weren't sure how you would ever move on from this secret.

~ Seven months together ~

When you saw the text notification on your screen, you didn't know if your mother had intended to send it to you or if it was an accident.

Mom 9:43 AM I heard the good news.

First off, what good news? The news about your script? And secondly, you wondered how she found out in the first place. There's no way Jungkook or Yuna would be talking to her, right? It's possible she heard through the grapevine but regardless, you didn't want to give any attention to her. Now that you found some success, was she proud of you? She didn't deserve any credit because she wasn't the one who supported you - it was your friends, your boyfriend.

But you brushed off her text and didn't respond to her. You weren't sure if you even wanted to. What was the point? You obviously didn't want to hear anything else she had to say or anything about your relationship with Jungkook. You'd respond when you were ready.

Jungkook was working hard to launch his company's new game, Final Approach. He was the lead storyboard designer on the project. He was hesitant when his team leader asked him, but you nudged him ever so gently to take it. Jungkook has the skills and vision for a project like this, but he just needed to be confident in himself to finally take initiative and show off what he could do. His potential's far greater than he could ever dream of.

"How are you feeling about your launch party?" you asked as you were putting away dishes into his cupboards.

"Good...I think," he said with an apprehensive smile and nod. "What about you? Are you excited to come?"

"Yeah...I think," mimicking his answer.

Jungkook raised both eyebrows, "You think?"

"I mean...this will be the first time everyone will see us together." The two of you hadn't attended any big events together as a couple. Not only would it be your first time going 'public' but your first time meeting his colleagues. Wonderful...more stares and whispers to endure.

"Good, because I want to show off my beautiful girlfriend." He smiled as he looked up from his laptop.

You gave him a closed-lipped smile. You could get through this...maybe with a lot of alcohol in your system. That would be your first trip for the night when you arrive - to the bar. "Right...but I won't know anyone."

"Jin will be there. You can hang out with him. I'm sure he won't mind," he said casually.

You could already picture the worst-case scenarios in your head, but you could do this. You've handled way harsher criticism before...but the thing was, this would be extremely personal - because it would be about you...about Jungkook, about your relationship.

You shook the thoughts from your mind. Happy thoughts only. This was an exciting moment for Jungkook. It wasn't about you. There would be plenty of time for that later.

Clearing your throat, you figured you should ask him about the text from your mother. "Hey...this is super random but...have you talked to my mom at all?"

His brows furrowed, lips in pout thinking about his last interaction with her. "I haven't spoken to her since Yuna's wedding. Why?" He looked up from his laptop.

You were tapping on the porcelain mug in your hand. "Oh...um, she just randomly texted me this morning."

Jungkook nodded. "What did she say?"

"She said, 'I heard the good news'. Whatever that means." You figured it wasn't him since he'd tell you right away if he had spoken to her.

"Huh... that's interesting. Maybe she's coming around." He shrugged, typing away at his laptop.

You scoffed at his remark. "I highly doubt that. You know her."

"Maybe I could talk to her." He tried asking casually because he knew your mom was still a sore subject of conversation.

You shook your head furiously. "No...no...I don't want you anywhere near her. I can hear her already, 'You're too good for her Jungkookie, you can do better...' blah blah blah..."

Jungkook stood up, pushing his stool, to walk over to you. He held out his hand, waiting for yours, pulling you into him. He rubbed your arms and leaned in for a kiss.

"I know I know...I already know what you're going to say."

"What am I going to say?"

"To stop with this self-deprecating nonsense."

"And..." His eyes crinkled with a sly smile, showing off that adorable dimple you just want to crawl and live in.

"...and that I'm smart and beautiful, and wonderful, and everything you could ever want in a partner," you added in a dragging tone.

He laughed because that's exactly what he would say. You'd been together long enough to know his quirks and mannerisms and his thought process. You sighed and pinched your nose, trying to shake all the negativity away. "Enough about my mom. I'll worry about her later. This week is about you, and you only," you said as you reached up to kiss him. "I love you. You know that?"

He nodded. "Mmhm, I know. I'm simply irresistible."

As the event was approaching, your anxiety began to flare up since this was the first time you would be attending a work event as Jungkook's girlfriend. You only knew Jin, as you briefly met him at the Open Mic Night and throughout Yuna and Namjoon's wedding festivities. There was some comfort in knowing at least one person, but your nerves were getting the best of you.

Jungkook said the event would be a black-tie affair since they were celebrating the launch of their new game. There would also be potential investors for the next game the company needed funds for.

The company went all out for this launch. They even provided him with a limo to pick the two of you up. You heard your door code unlocking, just in time, forty-five-ish minutes before the event began. 

Walking into your bedroom was a dashing, handsome man. Jungkook was sporting a fresh haircut, parted off to the side, showing off his perfect face, decorated with his eyebrow and lip piercing. He donned a dark gray two-piece suit, black dress shirt, and tie, even his waist looked tiny due to the cinched belt. Was there anything this man didn't look good in?

You greeted him with a warm smile as you found his gaze in the mirror. "I just need to put on my shoes. Then I'll be good to go." The dress that was purchased for this event felt risqué in your opinion, even though Hyunie and Yuna told you otherwise. You rarely dressed up like this.

Jungkook came from behind, wrapping his arms around you. "Hello gorgeous," he whispered pressing a kiss into your shoulder.

You leaned away from him, trying to escape from his hold. "Kook--stop. You're gonna mess up my outfit." He groaned before letting you go.

You stood up from your vanity table and took a seat at the edge of your bed, grabbing your strappy heels. Jungkook took a seat next to you, gesturing for you to give him your feet so he could help you. You happily obliged. Putting on heels shouldn't be sensual, but when it was Jungkook strapping them on, it was a different story. Instead of slipping them on right away, he leaned down to kiss your toes.

You giggled and squirmed under his touch. "Didn't know you had a foot fetish."

"I don't...I have a you fetish."

You chuckled, telling him to go on and hurry up or he'll be late for his own party.

He slipped on the right side, carefully buckling the strap, then he moved onto the next, but not before he gently grazed his fingers along the underside of your legs, heading towards your clothed heat. It took everything in you to not make a peep or feel any kind of excitement under his touch. He was just putting on your shoes for fucks sake. You stopped him from going any further.

"You'll have all the time in the world for a me fetish later boyfriend. Now come on, or we'll be late."

He groaned. He knew he should have come to pick you up earlier than scheduled. He finished helping you with your shoes and held your hand, helping you stand up. You did a quick spin for him, and he whistled, liking what he saw. He pulled you in for a kiss, and whispered against your lips, "Can't wait to rip that dress off of you later."

Netmarble went all out for this launch, they spared no expense. There were areas for video game simulators, tables upon tables of bags full of freebies, and a stocked bar. You name it, they had it.

A young man in a white button-up and black slacks approached you and Jungkook as you arrived, "Jungkook-ssi! You're here. Let me take you guys to your table."

Jungkook lightly gripped the young man's arm, grabbing his attention. "Ha-Joon, this is my girlfriend."

"Hello!" he greeted you with a warm smile. "It's so nice to finally meet you. Jungkook-ssi always talks about you."

"He does?" you asked with a surprised tone. "I hope they're good things." 

Ha-Joon laughed. "Of course. He's very much in love with you. Our whole team can see that." He said before turning back around, leading the pair of you throughout the crowd.

As you looked around, you could see a few eyes and whispers between you and Jungkook. One hand in Jungkook's, and with the other, you tugged on his blazer and whispered, "How much do you talk about me?" You didn't think anyone would know who you were, but maybe you were wrong.

Jungkook responded with a grin and raised an eyebrow. Goodness, this man was completely and irrevocably in love with you, huh? You chuckled. "What am I gonna do with you?"

He leaned in, "I have a few ideas." You gently pinched him. "Harder," he teased. And you did until it became uncomfortable. "Yah--yah--okay, okay. Save some of that for later."

When Ha-Joon showed you to your table, you weren't expecting a video game launch party to be so fancy, but here you were. Your name was written in beautiful calligraphy on a place card. It almost felt like you were at a wedding. As you sat down, Ha-Joon pulled Jungkook aside. You guessed he was telling him about tonight's schedule. 

After a few minutes, Jungkook came and took a seat next to you. "So, apparently they invited some popular game influencers to the party, so I gotta go make good with them. Will you be okay if I leave you for a little bit?"

"Yeah...Yeah of course. You go do your thing." You smiled warmly as he pressed a kiss into your temple. You couldn't help but feel proud of your boyfriend as you watched him walk off to mingle amongst the crowd. He's so good at this, you thought to yourself. You wished you had an ounce of his confidence.

You took a look around the room, feeling a little out of place. You straightened your dress, making sure nothing was out of place, then you heard a familiar voice from behind.

"Fancy seeing you here," said the tall broad-shouldered man.

"Hey!" you said with a sigh of relief, thankful to see a familiar face, so you wouldn't look like an outcast in a sea of gamers and businessmen. "Are you sitting with us too?"

"My table's over there but I uh...switched the place cards." He leaned in, covering his mouth, "I hate the people I work with...but shh--don't tell 'em that." Jin joked as he sat down next to you.

You laughed. "My lips are sealed," pretending to zip your mouth.

The both of you let your eyes roam around the noisy room full of people before you turned to Jin. "Hey...thank you for letting Jungkook use your house for our date. We really appreciate it."

Jin laughed. "You guys are more than welcome to use it whenever you need to, as long as you followed the rules I left."

"Us? Breaking your house rules? Never," you teased him. There may have been some touching and a bit of kissing, but nothing more than that.

"Uh huh...sure." Jin nodded, tinkering with his place card.

You always wondered why you didn't hang out with Jin more, especially when Yuna was dating Namjoon and it was only now that your paths were crossing more and more. Jin seemed genuine and down-to-earth, and definitely, the type of guy to tell you like it is, which you appreciated.

"So...how are you and Jungkookie?" he asked, trying to fill in the silence.

"We're...we're doing good." And you weren't lying. Of course, there were a few bumps along the way but it wasn't anything the two of you couldn't handle.

"Good," he said with a smile. "I think this is the happiest he's ever been."

"You think so?"

"Yeah...the guy comes in happy to work. Believe me, no one should come in that happy to work...You're good for him."

You scrunched your nose. "Nah--" you joked of course.

"I'm serious, you are. You both deserve to be happy."

"Thanks, Jin, that means a lot to me." And it did, there were countless times when you questioned everything about your relationship with Jungkook. But hearing Jin's approval helped boost your confidence in making the right choice.

Twenty minutes had gone by and Jungkook was still nowhere to be seen. Jin was trying to lighten the mood with a few jokes he had up his sleeve but he could still see how nervous you were at the party, being out of your element. "Stay here. I'll go get us some drinks. I have a feeling Jungkook will be mingling for a while."

You smiled. "Sure, I'd love one. Thanks, Jin." You watched him walk off to the bar, waving down the bartender. Immediately you reached for your phone to keep yourself busy.

He began tapping the bar counter and looking around as he waited for the drinks. There were two interns behind him talking loudly.

"Can you believe that's Jungkook's girlfriend? She has to be at least thirty," said the young blonde girl. Both girls snickered and took a sip of their champagne glasses.

"I'm going to fucking cry when I turn thirty and who does she think she is wearing that dress? I bet she's just trying to look like she belongs with him. He could do so much better than her," said the brunette.

Jin overheard their conversation and he debated if he should turn around and say something. He tugged at his collared shirt and tie, itching to just let them have a piece of his mind. But he bit his tongue and composed himself for now.

"Look at her. She's pathetic. She has the audacity to date, someone, basically ten years younger than her," the blonde scoffed, crossing her arms.

"Sounds kind of desperate to me," the brunette inserted. "Oh my god. What if she's going through a midlife crisis or something?"

"I mean that would make sense about why she's dating someone that young," the blonde stated, continuing to sip her drink.

The brunette nodded, "She's practically a pedo. Someone call the cops."

The two of them laughed at their stupid joke and that's when Jin had enough. He turned around and walked towards them, giving them his best smile.

"Hi ladies," he said with a dashing smile, looking dapper in his black three-piece suit.

The brunette became shy when she saw him approaching and tucked her hair behind her ear. In her sweetest voice, "Oh–Seokjin-ssi, you look so handsome today." She let out a tiny giggle. Shameless really, the way she was acting in front of Jin.

"That's where you're wrong. I always look handsome, thank you," he curtly replied. "You know what is absolutely foul tonight?" He wrinkled his nose in disgust.

The two of them shook their heads and didn't respond, acting dumb.

He leaned in close to them, almost pretending to let them in on a secret. "Your mouths." He stood with his arms crossed and a stern look on his face. "I didn't realize you were an expert on Jungkook's love life and had a say on who he should and shouldn't date."

The blonde and brunette were taken aback by Jin's blunt comment but he couldn't let them get away with acting superior.

You saw Jin looking your way and you flashed him a smile, wondering what he was doing with those two girls - probably flirting.

"You know what she has and you don't?" He asked rhetorically, and the two were still dazed and shook their heads. "She has more class than the two of you ever will. And she's an amazing person and doesn't say stupid shit behind people's backs. You're lucky we're not in the office. If I ever hear you saying anything about Jungkook or his girlfriend, you'll never work in this industry again. You hear me?" He threatened with raised eyebrows.

They nodded, mumbling sorry and bowing before scurrying away. Jin walked back to the bar and grabbed the drinks that were ready. He trekked back to where he left you and placed a drink in your hand.

"You good?" you asked curiously. "You weren't hitting on those girls, were you?"

He waved you off, "Pfft–more like they were hitting on me." He took a sip of his drink.

You chuckled and nodded at the handsome man. You were thankful that you had Jin to hang out with tonight.

During the night, when he wasn't with you, Jungkook was surrounded by a sea of people wanting his attention. They had heard so many wonderful things about him, so you loved seeing others fawn over him, getting all the attention he deserved. You found yourself grinning whenever there was mention of Jungkook. He was easily loved by everyone. It's kind of hard to hate the guy, when he's always willing to help out those around him - cleaning and picking up after others, making small jokes with the ahjumma at his favorite tteokbokki stand, playing with the kids that mistake him as their appa. See? Very hard to dislike him. 

He was finally able to step away since dinner was going to be served soon. He found his seat next to you and pressed a kiss on your cheek. "Hi," he said with relief in his voice. He was all mingled out, his cheeks were starting to hurt from all the smiling and talking.

"Hello, Mr. Popular," you chuckled. You could tell he was embarrassed, being the center of attention.

Jungkook rolled his eyes. "Stop...I hate it."

"Oh, you love it. You love being praised."

He had one arm on the back of your chair and the other leaning on the table, inching towards you. "Only in the bedroom." He smirked. He couldn't wait to leave the party and get out of the stuffy suit he was wearing. But the launch barely began, there were still more smiles and networking to do on his part. He hated it, besides, it was part of the job.

Throughout dinner, there were speeches upon speeches until the lead of Jungkook's department stood up and announced that he was getting an award. Jungkook's eyes widened with surprise, not knowing he'd be given anything tonight. He was given the 'Rising Star' Award and he was asked to make a quick speech while accepting. You could tell he wasn't prepared at all, but if anyone could come up with something on a whim, it was Jungkook.

He nervously scratched the back of his neck while looking out at the audience. He let out an awkward chuckle as he began thinking about where to even begin.

"Ahem...I'm sorry I don't have anything prepared. I wasn't expecting to receive anything tonight, but um, I just want to say thank you to my team leader, who continues to put his trust in me. And uh, thank you to the rest of our team who worked tirelessly to get this game ready for today's launch. I owe you all my life." The crowd gave a light laugh at his words, then his eyes darted around the room until he landed on you. "And lastly, I want to thank my beautiful girlfriend who's here with me tonight." He pointed at you, making everyone turn to take a good look. You smiled and waved shyly. He continued on, "Baby, thank you for always pushing me and supporting me in everything I do. I wouldn't be here without you. I love you." He bowed politely and gave another word of thanks before he took his award, and came back down to sit next to you, giving you another kiss.

The night was finally coming to an end. You didn't realize how wiped you were until the limo pulled up but overall it was an enjoyable night, getting to see Jungkook and his world.

"I'm pretty sure I'll like video game launch parties." You laughed holding up your huge bag of freebies. "I mean look at all this stuff."

Jungkook chuckled, "Is that the only reason why you're here? For the free stuff?"

You scoffed, "Well, obviously. It's free." He pinched your waist, making you yelp. "And--and to see my hot, sexy, boyfriend be the talk of the town."

"Ugh, don't remind me," he said, opening the limo door, and the two of you went in. "It's so embarrassing."

"What? No--I loved seeing everyone go all heart-eyes for you. To be honest, I was a little jealous," you said, setting the large bag down on the floor mat.

"Oh...you? Jealous? Tell me more," he urged, sliding closer to you, pulling you into him, then lifting your legs onto him. He began caressing your thighs, and nuzzled his head into your neck, peppering kisses wherever he could.

"For an industry that's mostly made up of men, way too many women were surrounding themselves around you," you said breathily, trying to keep your cool from all his kisses.

"Mmhm...keep going," he implored, now his hands beginning to freely roam your body. First, your breasts, then your ass.

You closed your eyes. He was barely touching you and you were soaking wet already. "I think I even saw someone lingering a handshake with you a minute too long. But what she doesn't know is that those hands are mine," you proclaimed while taking his hand in yours. "These fingers...are mine." Smiling as you pressed his fingers against your lips, then shamelessly taking his index and middle finger into your mouth, pulling them in and out. And he watched with fascination, your lips surrounding his fingers. He couldn't wait for them to be on his cock instead.

You grinned, pulling his fingers away, then hiked up your dress, bringing his fingers towards your clothed heat, already soaked and ready to go. Jungkook visibly gulped. He loves when you're confident and unashamed. Leaning in, you kissed him fervently. You couldn't wait for the driver to hurry up and get the two of you home. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer than he already was.

"Someone's horny," Jungkook said, breaking the kiss.

"You have no idea," you replied as you made your way to straddle him. Thank god for this limo, there was no way you could do this in a smaller car.

"You gotta keep quiet though. Don't want to be called into the boss' office on Monday morning asking why I was fucking my girlfriend in the company limo."

A giggle left your lips. "Jeon Jungkook, Rising Star, scared of getting caught?"

"I quite like my job, you know..."

"'Kay, then I'll just moan and whimper into your ear."

He grinned. "Perfect."

After a night of wanton sex-capades throughout the apartment, the two of you were spent. Jungkook was laid out on his stomach, mouth agape, with little snores leaving him. You found yourself gazing at him, gently caressing the little scar on his cheek.

See, it's easy when it's just you and Jungkook, but when it's the two of you against the world, it's a different story. If you two were the last two people on earth, you'd probably just fuck each other into oblivion, and probably have tons of babies. But that was the issue, you weren't the only two people on earth, and you probably cared way too much about what other people thought about you. And in the end, what would be the thing that mattered the most? What Jungkook thought about you or what other people thought? It was probably time to stop worrying about other people's perceptions of your relationship with Jungkook and begin to focus on the man who was undoubtedly and hopelessly in love with you.

✨ next ~ drabble: girl's night

[aemonds-wifey]

An unexpected Summer Meeting

Chapter 11

Summary: Tom meets someone from your past , you make a discovery yourself

(Authors note : Bold Italic = Flashback)

“Bloody HMS Keith honestly…” Tom said as he wondered down the corridor , out onto the deck of the mighty ship he was now on.

“Noble name I think.” The sailor walking with him said

“Pfft you would think that mate.” Tom remarked “what’s wrong with something a bit more imposing …”

“Such as?” The other sailor chuckled

“You know like HMS Dauntless or Zeus?!” He laughed.

“You’re a pistol Bennett.” His friend said as they continued to walk along the ship.

June had arrived, carefree summers were a distant memory now- Tom Was in the middle of history, taking part in the Evacuation of Dunkirk. They had done countless trips back and forth, Tom felt exhausted but had to resume duty and rescue the men stranded on the beach. Whatever the cost.

As they walked along the side of the ship towards the rowboat Tom stopped in his tracks as he heard a rumbling of voices carry down the side , something a sailor said stuck in his ears. He couldn’t be sure but something had his determined to find out what was going on.

His feet found themselves drawn to two sailors stood by the railings looking at the beaches ahead. The voice he was intrigued by was a well spoken one, Tom listened quietly

“I said it would bring her here…once the war is over of course .” The man said.

“And your family?”

“Gretchen …she’s expecting…any day now …. so we can all come along.”

Tom wondered over to him and tapped him on the shoulder “Excuse me mate?”

The man turned around “Yes?”

Tom wore a cheeky but slightly intimidating grin “Your bird …Gretchen ? She a. Nice girl ?”

The man nodded “Yeah she’s lovey …”

Tom noticed the name on his lapel: G. Harper

Tom lazily straightened his jacket “George isn’t it?” Tom asked

“That’s right yeah” he held out his Hand “George Harper.”

Tom looked at his hand and scoffed “Think I’m gonna shake that hand?”

George frowned “I don’t follow…?”

Tom nudged the sailor next to him “What do you say Will? Would you shake the hand of a man who cheats on his girlfriend and gets another one pregnant ?”

George’s face dropped “wha…do I know you?”

“No” he stood closer to him “But Y/N does…”

George looked incredibly panic stricken “You know Y/N?”

Tom nodded “I do…very well. Better than you ever knew her.” Cocking his head slightly.

George’s nostrils flared slightly at the insinuation, he looked Tom up and down “Yes well…glad to see she found someone suited to her standing.”

“Meaning what mate? Think she would agree I’m ten times the man you could ever be.” Tom spat.

George scoffed “Oh yeah a charmer. Bennett isn’t it? Yeah I heard about you from the men…bit of a rascal…it’s a shame Y/N sank so low to settle for you…”

Tom flinched “Lower than a cheating rat like you? All your fancy books couldn’t teach you how to appreciate a good woman when you see one.”

George pushed Tom , he fell back against the metal railing , he quickly rallied himself up and threw a swift right hook , clashing with George’s jaw , he spun down onto the ground hitting his shoulder off the railing

“Tom what the hell?!” A sailor asked holding him back, the other sailor George was talking to helped him up- already a bruise was starting to show under his eye. George attempted to lunge at Tom, who only tried to take another swing at him, but being held back hindered his efforts. Cursing at each other they made some noise, until A senior sailor interjected between them “

Lads. Let’s not forget who the real enemy is..Bennett.. get to the boat. We have brave men to bring home.”

Tom glared at George , the officer looked at him “Bennett…we haven’t got all day…The enemy could be back any moment…go…”

Tom was released , he straightened his jacket and ran his fingers through his hair as he walked off to get onto the boat. George watched him, he sneered and ventured off back to resume his duties.

As he descended onto the boat , his friend Will piped up “What was that about Tom?”

Tom sat Down with a frustrated sigh “Nothin…” he muttered

Will sat opposite him, the boat began to rock against the waves and towards the beach . Tom winced slightly as he examined his hand, his knuckles now red and sore with the punch he just threw at George.

He looked out at the beaches and the water that surrounded them,

“How come our ship is called HMS KeithV Keith isn’t the name you give to a fighting ship.” Tom said

“What? Will asked

“Other ships are called Atlantic, Calcutta and Dreadnought and we get Keith.”

“What’s the problem with that?”

“Keith was always the bane of that kid in school who wore a balaclava till April” Tom said as he fiddled with his shoelaces

“Candle wax snot hanging from his nose.” He grinned

Will just laughed at Toms words

“How many trips back and forth have we done twenty? And not one tip all day.” Tom said loudly as the boat rocked slightly

“Would you like it better if it was called HMS Tom?” Will joked

“If it was HMS Tom it wouldn’t be here mate. Be cruising round the brothels of the Med” Will chuckled as Tom grinned for a while , but as his knuckles ached he thought of home and when he would see you again. He missed you fiercely

And meeting George only enriched his love for you and how he only wanted to come back to you spend every free moment with you.

☁️

The water began to bubble with the heat, as you waited for the water to boil you reflected upon your last meeting with Tom- it had been months yet it felt like an eternity.

Tom hugged you so tight as you went with him to the train station, wanting to soak up every last available moment with him. He felt you shake slightly in his arms

He looked down at you “Hey…it will be alright.”

You looked up at him as his thumb wiped away a line tear “You better come back to me Tom Bennett.”

He smiled bitter sweetly

“Whatever it takes?” He asked

With a nod “whatever it takes.”

You kissed him, not knowing if it would be the last or the one of many you would share, you just never wanted it to end. When his lips broke from yours you almost whimpered at the loss of contact, he placed something small and cool in your hands “Here.”

You looked in your hands, his metallic green lighter with a small piece of string wrapped tightly round with a petite silver anchor pendant hanging from the side

You looked up at him “Tom…your lucky lighter I can’t …”

He chuckled “Need you to look after it love, it’s alright we can use it when I get back.”

Your eyes watered and he cupped your face before kissing your lips , you heard the horrible high pitch whistle ring through the station- he had to go.

“All Aboard! Train is about to leave!” You felt tears fall down your cheek as he broke from you and hopped onto the train- he closed the door and put his head through the gap. You rushed over , grasping his coat collar and pulling him down for one kiss- the force of the train pulling out now broke you apart . All you could do was keep your eyes on him as the train went further into the distance. You pressed his lighter to his lips once the platform was empty.

“Y/N?” You heard Douglas say

You turned around and looked at him as he was sat fiddling with his glasses on the table

“Hmm?” You mused

“You alright? The water has boiled.”

So it had, you shook your head “Sorry I must have been lost in my thoughts …” you said as you brought it over and poured some tea for him and Lois.

Douglas knew exactly where your thoughts were, but before he could ask you anything you noticed Lois was absent

“Lois coming down?” You asked

“She said she was.” He said putting his glasses down

You put the kettle

Down “I’ll go it’s okay.” You smiled as you made your way to the stairs.

“Lois?” You called up the stairs, there was no answer . You steadily walked up the stairs and wondered into her and Toms room. “I made some tea for you and…” She sat on the bed , she was unable to hide her condition- but that’s not what for your attention, she was crying. You rushed over to her “hey Lois…what’s the matter.”

You sat opposite her, taking in one of her hands and holding it gently.

“Oh Y/N…I’m so bloody scared. I’m

Not ready to be a mum!” She said.

You had not seen Lois like this, she always seemed so well put together and brave, but even the bravest have moments of doubt and she needed reassurance.

“Lois it will be alright …you will be a terrific mother.” You said holding her hand reassuringly.

She sniffles and wiped away her tears. “That baby will be so lucky…to have your love and oh is that baby gonna love you too.” You said to her,

“You think ?” She asked

You nodded “The most important thing Lois is that you will not be alone…you have your dad, I’ll be here too and Tom too…”

She wept again if Tom comes back…”

You held your breath but did not say anything , Lois was vulnerable and you did not want to make her feel even more upset.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright Lois…he will come back.”

“He really loves you you know?” She said

You smiled a little “I love him too Lois.”

“No I mean he really does Y/N…he’s never spoke about anybody like this…”

“Oh I’m sure he has before-“ you started

Lois shook her head “No. he’d hate me for telling you this but he said to me the night we all met you that you were the only girl for him. “

You heart twirled at her words, how you felt like you could cry with happiness. She continued to cry as she spoke again “and I really really hope he comes back because I think of you as my sister already.”

“Oh Lois…” you said - you put your arm around her and rubbed her arm reassuringly. Lois did act like a sister to you in the time you have known her, the Bennett family had taken you in and shown such kindness you were foreign to. She finally smiled as you smiled at her to give her comfort, both your smiles faded when you heard footsteps coming your way.

You both saw Douglas appear at the door , he looked pale and was shaking. In his hand you noticed a small piece of paper, both your faces dropped at his expression

“Dad?” Lois asked

“It’s…Tom….”

Your heart sank.

Chapter 12

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@nolongereviliwantlove @talesofoldandnew @happilyhertale @yentroucnagol @arcielee @babyblue711

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[lyrakanefanaticwriting]

The Grandest Game

Chapter 3

———————————————————

GRAYSON:

Everybody was at the island, waiting for the contestants to arrive. Everything had already been set up, but there was still an anxious energy around just having to wait for them. Even I had to admit that the wait was killing me as well. Suddenly, I feel my phone ring in my pocket, and immediately feel a jolt just from the thought of it being that girl. Getting my phone out of my pocket, I answered quickly.

“Hello?” I ask, expecting to hear the girls addicting voice. But I don’t.

“Look who’s finally started to say hello.” Eve says. My jaw clenched just from the sound of her voice.

“What do you want?” I say, not even bothering to sugar coat it. She tuts.

“Well, you seem to be making everybody upset lately.” She says, mockingly. I swallow.

“What do you mean?” I say, my voice low. There’s a pause, almost as if she wants me to sit with my lack of information, before she speaks.

“You know, like your sister.” I freeze. Gigi was obviously upset with me about what happened to her father, but me and her are forgiven now. But Savannah…

“What did you do?” There’s silence on the other end, and I could picture her deathly smile even now.

“I told her the truth.” I go silent. The truth was, Sheffield Grayson kidnapped Avery, expecting Toby to show up. Then, Mellie shot him. That was the truth. But I wondered how easy it would be to twist that story into something much, much more different. My heart sank, but I didn’t allow any of that emotion to transfer into my voice.

“What did you tell her, exactly?”

“You’ll just have to wait to find out. Although, I doubt it will take long for your dear sister to confront you.” Then she hangs up. My teeth hurt from how hard I was clenching my jaw, and my hands were folded into fists as well. What did Eve tell Savannah? It didn’t take very long for my thoughts to get interrupted.

“Grayson?” Libby says, knocking before coming into my room. I turn to face her, making my expression neutral.

“Yes?” I ask, my voice curt.

“You have a visitor. She says she’s your sister?” She replies. This time, I couldn’t stop my eyes from widening. Eve had definitely told Savannah some tarnished version of the truth. And knowing Savannah, she was pissed.

——————————————————————————

LYRA KANE:

I was still packing my bags to leave for The Game, when my little brother walks into my room.

“Do you really have to leave already?” He asks, whining. I smile at him.

“Do you want me to be late? Besides Gabriel, family’s are allowed to visit on weekends, and tomorrow’s Saturday. Why aren’t you getting ready for school?” I ask him. He sighs and goes to get ready, leaving me to continue packing. I honestly didn’t expect Eve’s plan to work out, but it did. I was a contestant in The Game, and if Eve’s cards play right, she’ll get the “Hawthorne Legacy”. The truth was, I wasn’t as invested in this as Eve was, I just wanted to get my closure, and money, and leave. But the only reason that I’m even packing for this is because of Eve, so I guess I should cut her some slack. Zipping my luggage up, I slung my backpack over my shoulder and carried my suitcase to the living room. My mom was in the kitchen, cooking, and Gabriel was building legos on the carpet. Seeing me walk out of my room, my mom races over to me.

“You’re all packed?” She says, grabbing me and hugging me.

“Yup. I got everything I need and more, as per your requests.” I reply. My mom stops hugging me to study my face.

“Remember Lyra, you belong there. Even if you feel out of place, just remember that they’re just rich people living their rich lives, and they’re really not that special.” She says. Her soft tone makes me snort.

“That’s brutal, Mama. I’m gonna tell them you said that.” I say, jokingly. I see her eyes go wide as she berates me in Spanish for saying something like that. Rolling my eyes with amusement, I walk over to the kitchen to get a quick snack before leaving. Grabbing a banana, I go over to hug my mom again.

“I need to go now if I’m gonna catch the train. Bye Mama, te amo.” I say, hugging her before giving her a kiss on the cheek. She hugs me back.

“Bye Lyra, I love you more.” She says, hugging me back. Gabriel, who sees me leaving, jumps up and runs over to give me a hug.

“Bye Lyra! Tomorrow, can I bring my project for the science fair so you can help me please?” He asks. I laugh.

“Sure, we can do that. Bye Gabriel, I love you!” I say, waving. He and my mom wave back, and I grab my things to go walk over to the train station, which was only really a five minute walk from here. Although I couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread on the way there, as well as the feeling that Eve had gotten me into something way larger than I had imagined.

——————————————————————————

GRAYSON:

I walk over to the foyer, and see Savannah standing there. Her face looked perfectly pleasant, but she had a dark look in her eyes that Grayson couldn’t shake.

“Hello, Grayson. Do you mind if we could go someplace to talk?” She asks, her voice curt with a sharp edge. I nod.

“Of course. We could talk in my room?” I offer, turning around and walking there. I caught Jameson’s eye as I was walking, and saw the look on his face. Something was wrong, and even he knew it. Whatever Eve said, I’m sure most of it wasn’t true. But no matter what Eve said, it’s still my fault that I hurt Savannah by not telling her the truth. And now, it was going to have to come out. The walk there was excruciatingly silent, until I opened the door to my room and gestured for her to walk in. She didn’t. Instead, she turns to me, a flame glowing in her eyes.

“I don’t care who you are. I don’t care if you’re my brother, or my family, because after what you did to my father, you don’t deserve to carry even a drop of my blood.” She spat, her voice venomous. I resisted the urge to flinch, and noticed how Savannah referred to Sheffield as her father, not mine.

“What did Eve tell you?” My voice was completely neutral, and I tried to be as calm as possible.

“She told me what you already know. That one of your people shot Dad and then left him there to die. She told me that you did it all for Avery. Well, was it worth it, Grayson? I bet it wasn’t, because in the end, she didn’t even end up choosing you.” She shot back. I didn’t show it on my face, but still, the insult hurt more than she could ever imagine. Me and Avery were family now, that was something that I could admit, but back then it killed me that she chose Jameson. I sucked in a quick breath.

“Savannah, that isn’t the whole story. I’m sure Eve didn’t tell you about why Avery was there-“ She cuts me off before I can explain.

“I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear more of your lies. You knew what happened to my father, but still you said nothing. Me and Gigi were looking for him, looking for any trace of him, and yet here you were, knowing the entire time that he was-“ Dead, I finished for her in my head, my heart sinking. She breathes in through her nose, and out through her mouth.

“I just don’t get it. She trusted you Grayson,” She said, tears shining her eyes, but the only emotion on her face was anger. “I was starting to trust you too.” My chest heaved. I wished that I could fix this entire situation, but I couldn’t. I’m sorry Savannah, I thought, I’m so, so sorry.

“I’m not going to reason with you on this anymore. But I mean it Grayson, when I say that I don’t want you talking to me or my sister anymore. Just stay away from us. Do you understand?” She asks me, her voice dangerous. I wanted to say something, anything, but what was done was done, and I couldn’t fix it. Instead I just nod, and she quickly wipes her tears until any traces of her crying were gone, and walks away, her heels clicking as she does.

“Grayson?” Xander says, awkwardly walking out from around the corner once Savannah had passed. Something in his expression told me that he had definitely been eavesdropping.

“Yes?” I say, trying not to show any sign of sadness from the past conversation on my face.

“The first contestants have arrived.”

——————————————————————————

OKAY THIS IS KIND OF A BORING CHAPTER SINCE ITS RIGHT BEFORE THE GAME STARTS BUT ALSO I WANTED TO FOCUS ON THE WHOLE SAVANNAH THING SO YEAH 😭😭

[pompomqt]

Journey to the West Chapter 8

So after the events of last chapter, the Buddha finally returns to the Treasure Monastery of Thunderclap. About 500 years after he subdued Monkey, Buddha says that he has 3 baskets of scriptures, one that speaks of the collection of Heaven, one which tells of Earth and one that can redeem the damned. So he calls on a volunteer from the crowd to travel east to find a virtuous believer to make the Journey to the West, to bring the scriptures back to the sinful people of the east to enlighten the people there. The Bodhisattva Guanyin volunteers as tribute. So the Buddha gives her an embroidered cassock and a nine ring priestly staff to give to the scripture pilgrim which will supposedly prevent him from falling back into the wheel of transmigration and protect him from poison and harm. He also gives her three tightening fillets, and tells her to be on the look out for monsters with great power that can be persuaded to become a disciple of the scripture pilgrim. If they are disobedient they can recite a spell that will tighten the fillet and cause them to feel like their brains will burst. Before this I think I knew that there were three fillets, one for each of the disciples, but I've only ever heard of Monkey's being used. I wonder if he is the only one who it's ever truly used on- or if he's just the most famous?

So as per Buddha's instruction Guaynin heads out with her disciple and body guard Moksa. As they are flying low to examine the terrain they come across the massive and evil looking Flowing Sand River. As they are examining the river and wondering how the scripture pilgrim is going to get across, they are attacked by the soon to be 'Sandy'. When Sandy tries to grab Guanyin, Moksa intercepts him and they battle for a while, before Sandy recognizes Hui'an as Guanyin's disciple, and Moksa points her out to him. Sandy apologizes and explains that he isn't a monster, but instead the Curtain-Raising General, who was given eight hundred lashes and banished to earth for breaking a crystal cup. And even worse, every seven days the Jade Emperor sends a flying sword to stab him more then a hundred times before it leaves again. This situation has led to him finding and eating travelers for food.

Guanyin tells him that she's on her way to find a scripture pilgrim, and suggests that he becomes the pilgrims disciple, in exchange she will have the sword called off, and when they succeed his sins will be forgiven and he will be restored to his former position. Sandy is willing, but worried that since he has devoured numerous scripture pilgrims, and chained their skulls together because they floated in the water rather then sank, that no other scripture pilgrim will every come this way. Guanyin instructs Sandy to hang the skulls around his neck, because when the scripture pilgrim comes there will be a use for them. I'm honestly very curious on what this 'use' could possibly be... but who am I to question the Bodhisattva? Anyways she gives him the name 'Sha Wujing' which means 'Sand Aware of Purity', and then she heads off, leaving Sha Wujing to wait for the scripture pilgrim.

A while after Guanyin and Moksa bid ado to Sandy they encounter the evil looking mountain 'Mountain of the Blessed Mound', and are once again attacked by a monster. This pig monster tries to attack Guanyin with his rake, but is deflected by Moksa. The two battle it out for a while, before Guanyin intervenes by throwing down some lotus flowers to separate them. Which leads to Pigsy recognizing her, and asking her to pardon his sin. He explains that he was originally The Marshal of the Heavenly Reeds in the Heavenly River, but because he got drunk and dallied with the moon goddess the Jade Emperor had him beaten with a mallet two thousand times and banished to the earth. Apparently he had a mistake when trying to reincarnate and ended up in the womb of a sow. After having killed the sow and the rest of the litter, he took over this mountain and began eating people. Pigsy, despite asking Guanyin to forgive his sin, initially seems reluctant to change his ways in order to earn said forgiveness, saying that he'll starve to death trying to follow the law of Buddha and that he's better off eating travelers. But Guanyin explains her quest and explains that if he becomes the pilgrims diciple, he can be forgiven from his sins. Pigsy finally agree's and she gives him the name 'Zhu Wuneng' meaning 'Pig who is aware of ability'. So with that Guanyin and Moksa take their leave, leaving Pigsy to be strictly vegetarian until the Scripture Pilgrim arrives.

After once again journeying on for a while, they come across a young dragon calling for help. The dragon explains that he is a son of the dragon king of the Western Ocean Aorun, but because he accidentally set fire to the palace his father had the court of heaven charge him with grave disobedience. The Jade Emperor hung him in the sky, gave him 300 lashes and ordered him to be executed in a few days.

So Guanyin and Moksa rush up to the see the Jade Emperor, and convince him to spare the dragons life, and give him to her for the scripture pilgrim to use as a mode of transportation. The Jade Emperor agrees, and the young dragon pledges obedience to Guanyin. So Guanyin tells him to wait in a mountain stream and transform into a white horse and accompany the pilgrim when he arrives. I wonder why she didn't give him a new name like she did with Sandy and Pigsy?

After the duo take their leave of the young dragon, they come across Five phases mountain, where Sun Wukong is being imprisoned. Guanyin composes a short poem about how Sun Wukong wreaked havoc in heaven, causing Sun Wukong to complain and demand to know who is composing poems about his faults. Which- fair reaction lol. Anyways, Sun Wukong complains about how he has been here for such a long time and never even received any visitors and asks Guanyin to rescue him. Guanyin says that she fears if she releases him, he will just cause mayhem again, but he says that he is willing to learn the proper path and practice cultivation. Guanyin then tells him that is he is willing, then she will send the Scripture Pilgrim to release him, so he can follow him as a disciple. She then offers to give him a name, but he says he already has one- 'Sun Wukong'. This works out perfectly for Guanyin who had given Pigsy and Sandy names that were also built on the word 'Wu'. So with that sorted out, Guanyin and Moksa make it to Chang'an of the Great Tang Nation, and set of camp in a local spirit's temple.

And with that- we have all but 1 member of this five man band revealed. Thanks for reading this weeks chapter of Journey to the West with @journeythroughjourneytothewest Current Sun Wukong Stats: Names/Titles: Monkey, The Stone Monkey, The Handsome Monkey King, Sun Wukong (Monkey awakened to the void), Bimawen (Banhorseplague) and The Great Sage Equal To Heaven. Immortality: 5 Weapon: The Compliant Golden Hooped Rod Abilities: 72 Transformations, Cloud-Somersault, Ability to transform his individual hairs, super strength, Ability to Summon Wind, Water restriction charm, and the ability to change into a huge war form, ability to duplicate his staff, ability to immobilize others, the ability to put others to sleep, and the Fiery eyes and Diamond Pupils Demon Kill Count: 1+ Unknown Number of Minions God's Defeated: 19 + Unknown number Defeats: 2 Crime List: Robbery, Murder, Mass Murder, Arson, Theft, Coercion, Threatening a Government Official, Resisting Arrest, Assault, Forgery, Employee Theft, False Imprisonment, Impersonating a Government Official and Treason. Cry Count: 3 Mountains Trapped Under: 1 Current Sha Wujing Stats: Names/Titles: The Curtain-Raising General, Sha Wujing (Sand Aware of Purity), and Sandy. Weapon: 'Monster Taming Staff' Crime List: Breaking a Crystal Cup, murder, and desecration of a human corpse. Current Zhu Wuneng Stats: Names/Titles: The Marshal of the Heavenly Reeds, Zhu Wuneng (Pig who is aware of ability) and Pigsy. Weapon: Rake Failed Flirtation Attempts: 1 Crime List: Sexual Harassment and Murder. Current Bai Long Ma Stats: Names/Titles: Bai Long Ma (White Dragon Horse), and Prince of the Western Ocean. Crime List: Arson, and Grave Disobedience.

[miss-celestia13]

Move Fast, Keep Quiet

Jake x MC - One Shot - Smut

Words: 3.7k

This is technically a part three of my, I Can See You, story which I’ll link below but as it’s mostly smut, you honestly don’t have to have read them to understand what’s going on here.

After a month apart, Kenzi is delighted to have Jake close at hand once more, and the ride to the airport will be one she won’t forget for a very long time.

Again, this is heavily inspired by Taylor Swift! But you don’t have to like her to read. Explicit and wordy smut. The usual.

I Can See You - Bodyguard AU Part One

Meet me Tonight - Part Two

Kenzi

Seventy thousand voices rose in waves of glorious shared emotion and joy, the final notes ringing out as she waved and grinned so wide she feared her face would split. People often said she was drowning under the weight of her own star, her name in gilded blinding lights, and all her indiscretions forever marked in headlines for all of time. All the worlds a stage, as they say, and despite the diaphanous highs and concrete bone-cracking lows, she felt like she’d only just got her feet wet. No, she wouldn’t drown; she would swim and keep swimming until she reached the end of the road and some other young thing took her place.

The stadium crowd had a life of its own, like a massive set of lungs expelling and inhaling air as it surged and flowed, light-up wristbands forming rainbows and stars as they moved like unseeing hands tugged them back and forth. It never mattered how much she gave them blood, sweat, and tears, opening her veins and old wounds every night to entertain them. She adored it, and all those who spent their hard-earned money to see her, she couldn’t do any of it without them. But it had been a long run. She missed her home and Jake's heartbeat under her ear every night, lulling her to sleep and easing the pressure of her fame with his body before tumbling into dreams of paradise. He watched the entire show with her mom and Jessy, his electric eyes more dazzling than the many lights on her.

But her mind wasn’t with the fans, sobbing, cheering, demanding more music and time with Kenzi as she handed her mic to a stagehand. Her mind was already running to Jake, waiting behind the stage for her to take her home. She took a bow with her crew, dancers, band, and singers. Her cheeks ached from smiling too hard and singing for hours, and her blood was high as they walked offstage. Her mother and Jessy hovered at the left side, wrapping her in their arms as she closed her eyes and sighed, her entire body going leaden as the reality of this being the end of her tour sank in. Pulling back, she smiled at them both, but both knew she was looking for Jake as her eyes skipped around behind them. Her mom rolled her eyes, Jessy chuckled, and Kenzi didn’t bother to pretend she was abashed as her mom told her where to find him.

“Go, he’s by the janitor cart you use to get into the stadium.”

“Thank you. We’ll have dinner tomorrow, promise,” Kenzi swore, but her mom just snorted, arm around Jessy as she walked away and tossed a jesting comment back at her.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you next week for dinner, Kenzi. We both know you won’t leave the house until then.”

Laughing, Kenzi didn’t deny it as she hurried to where her mom told her Jake would be. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears, matching the thump of her custom heels on the floor as she marched toward the man with his hands behind his back. His mouth curled into a soft smile he only ever used on her. He didn’t run to her, leaving it up to her if she wanted to give the world a glimpse into their romantic life. Her joy was a potent thing as she ran to him, throwing herself at him, knowing he’d catch her. She didn’t give it a second thought. She kissed him, fierce and hungry, his scratchy lips a delicacy she could never find anywhere else. After months of very little time together, all she wanted was to reacquaint herself with his body.

Strong arms gripped her tight, his tongue seeking entrance into her mouth, and she opened with a happy gasp as his fingers dug into her bejeweled hips. The braying crowds and thousands of cell phones videoing them vanished as she gave herself over to him and drank from his mouth with a sweet desperation borne from four weeks apart as his actor client was doing press abroad. Her sore muscles complained as she hung from his neck, his hands roamed over her bare back, and her touch-starved heart trembled in her chest as he kissed her and made a quiver of shivers roll down her back in time with the bold stroke of his tongue against hers. Her delight soon overtook her; they had two months off together and had a vacation planned, their first, and she giggled into the kiss, parting from him before it turned too filthy for the people around them.

“You're a sight for sore eyes,” She teased him as she took his arm and let him lead her to her dressing room.

“I never understood that expression. Wouldn't sore eyes be a bad thing?” He joked, making her grin as she followed him inside her colorful space and locked the door behind her.

“Well, it's meant as a compliment... I missed you,” She breathed, meeting his eye as his mouth quirked into that smoky smirk she missed so dearly.

He held her at arm's length, appraising her scant outfit of a Swarovzki-adorned body suit, and she could see the moment his emotions switched from a longing yearning to that familiar maroon-hazed desire. But she had sweated under a thousand lights, danced, and pranced across the stage for hours. She was sticky and starving, and her sweat-rained skin cried out for the claustrophobia-inducing shower in the bathroom behind her. Jake's eyes softened as she pried her arms free from his neck and backed toward the bathroom.

“I need to wash the last three hours off me before you can keep looking at me like that.” She laughed as he rolled his eyes. A little sweat never bothered him, but her feminine soul was distressed at the thought of him touching or tasting her for the first time in a month before she could shower.

Her stage makeup felt like a mask fracturing on her skin as she slunk inside the bathroom, turned on the light, and closed the door, switching the shower on before undressing to give it a chance to warm up. She shucked off her shoes, leotard, and two pairs of tights, standing under the weak stream of lukewarm water as she took the fastest shower of her life. She left her hair in its elaborate braided crown. She kept it away from the fine spray as she rinsed the soap off her tired limbs, turning it off before getting out and immediately ensconced herself in a fluffy white robe. Her eyelids tried to droop as she hastily wiped her makeup off and applied a thin layer of moisturizer. She left the tiny bathroom to return to her man, waiting for her with a plate of chicken tenders, ketchup, and what seemed like ranch.

The growl her stomach let out made Jake's eyes narrow on her, and guilt, thick and rancid, sat heavy in her belly as she read the words in his eyes before his voice gave them life.

“What have you had to eat today, Kenz?” He murmured, gaze lazily stroking over her swaddled form as she flopped into the chair beside his and took the plate of food from him.

She twirled one of her chicken fingers in the two globs of sauce he'd put on her plate, red and white mixing, turning pink as she took a great bite of it to give her time to formulate a response he would find pleasing. Finding nothing, her shoulders slumped, and her throat was dry as she talked, but she still met his eye and wouldn't hide from him.

“Not much. I was too nervous you'd miss the flight, or something would go wrong on the last night... I couldn't stomach more than coffee and a slice of toast these past few days.”

Jake crossed his arms, brows furrowing as he pinned her with a no-nonsense look and said, “I figured. You're getting scrawny.”

Indignance reared up inside her, her predictable temper flaring as his eyes flashed with amusement, and his bearded mouth smirked, daring her to ignite. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

“And you need a shave, but we won't split hairs,” She taunted, pointing a chicken tender at him to ram her point home as he chuckled at her childishness. His beard was longer than usual, but it was still tidy enough.

“Okay, we'll talk about you taking better care of yourself once you've lost that homicidal glint in your eye,” Jake said in the dryest tone she'd ever heard. Her heart sang as she grinned at him, and they fell into an easy quiet as she ate.

It wasn't long before the knock on the door came, telling them their limo was waiting for them and their police escort was ready to follow them to the airport. Kenzi threw on a loose sweater dress, forgoing underwear as she couldn't remember which bag it was packed in and had no time to search for it. Jake took her hand, face hardening into that old mask of indifference she used to despise as he used his body as a shield to make it harder for any paparazzi to catch a shot of her. Her silly woman's heart loved it, especially when he moved her bodyguard away from the limo door and opened it himself, helping her inside before getting in, too.

The door slammed shut, the car instantly locking up once she was safely secured inside, and leather, her perfume, and Jake's scent were the fragrance of their ride as they left the stadium. They could see through the windows, but no one outside could see in. The partition between them and their driver slowly ascended, music pumped through the car speakers to give them more privacy as they wound slowly through streets packed with fans and journalists alike. It was dizzying knowing they all stayed to see her off. Gratitude flowed like gold through her veins as she settled in for the hour-long drive to the airstrip. Jake's hand branded her bare thigh, thumb rubbing circles into her skin and inching closer to her uncovered sex.

His head lowered, mouth at her ear as he asked, “How long is the drive again?” 

His hand never ceased its movements, laying a trail of sparks and stars as it slid under her dress, fingers reaching where she was beginning to ache for him. Remembering too late that he’d asked a question, his smug grin only fueled the embers glowing ever-hotter in her core as she replied in a husky tone. 

“An hour, maybe less, depending on how bored the driver is.”

“Plenty of time then,” Jake muttered, grasping hold of her chin and turning her face to his, kissing her soundly before she could take a breath to brace herself. Her pulse thrummed wildly in her throat, her ears a roar of blood pounding through her veins at supersonic speed, and she hoped the chauffeur wasn’t eavesdropping. She would have to be quieter than normal. It was a challenge; she knew she would fail but was willing to try anyway as he taunted her tongue with his and pressed in so hard she could only cling to his hair as he undid her. 

Despite the loud music and sound of the tires kissing the blacktop, the heavy, too-quick thump of their hearts and each breath they shared echoed in her ears as liquid heat spiraled through her. She was dragged into his lap, straddling him, legs spread wide and knees balanced on the plush leather seats. He tasted like mint, safety, and freedom all at once, every brush of his tongue in her mouth a balm to her tattered edges after all her silly pining for a man in constant contact with her when he wasn’t on the job. Hearing him moan and growl dirty things through a phone just wasn’t enough for her, and she planned to make up for it now as she grew slick between her thighs, and the need for sweet friction made itself known. 

His biting, bristling kiss, his hands bracing her waist, and her craving to be well and truly fucked made her mindless, forgetting where they were the moment his hand fell between them to hike her dress up her hips. The sound of a zipper pulling down cracked like thunder as his curious fingers found her naked cunt. Tracing the seam of her with a fingertip, he nipped at her bottom lip and growled into her mouth at finding her wet. Something like relief lay heavy on his tongue as he toyed with her. Her hips shivered as he grazed her clit, circling to chase his hand as he backed away and redoubled his efforts in stealing her breath. Tired of him having all the control, she let go of his hair and dropped her hand, blindly wrapping it around his thick cock and teasing him, stroking too gently to offer any friction as his hips tried to steal it from her. 

She should’ve known by now that she was playing with fire, and he would not allow her to leave unburnt. Her smile was serpentine as he broke away, eyes darker than a midnight sea as they held her in sway. She twitched at the voracity of the hunger in his gaze, empty cunt already weeping as he stared into her like she was the only thing he ever wanted to eat. 

“We don’t have time to play, Kenz. Lift up for me.” He urged, palming his cock as she did as he bid and tensed herself, wanting to feel every hard inch as he filled her and banished the emptiness, fast becoming impossible to think past. 

He ran the fat crown of his cock through her slick folds, a tease and a promise as he lined up with her, breaching her entrance in a slow, rough glide that made both groan as she took all of him. They blinked owlishly at each other as she gave herself time to adjust to his rigid length, breath gasping as her inner walls trembled and gripped him so tight she could see the lines of restraint fraying on his pretty face as she rocked her hips to slacken her resisting muscles. He observed her struggling, eyes blowing black with lust as her whines of distress turned to soft cries of pleasure as a luscious sensation zinged through her nerves and lit her up inside, delicious heat erasing the worry that someone could see what they were doing as they stopped at a red light. Cameras flashed outside, her fears dissipating like mist as their driver put his foot down.

Slowly, maddeningly, Jake lowered his head. She expected him to kiss her, but he nudged her head to the side, baring her throat as he ran his nose up the side of her neck and back down again, inhaling her deeply into his lungs before pressing an open-mouthed kiss over her hammering pulse. She whined impatiently, and he sunk his teeth into her throat hard enough to mark her but not break the skin, and she bucked wildly against him. Her hands grasped at his shirt to keep her up as he helped her rise, both moaning in relief as she slid back down, and he smiled against her skin. Suddenly, irrationally, she wanted to hit him for making her feel so much in such a short time, but instead, she turned her head as he lifted his and captured his lips in a searing kiss. 

Gone was the awkwardness of their first kisses and sexual encounters. They both knew what the other wanted by now, and he gave her that and more. It wasn’t gentle; it was a feral thing between them. He took her mouth savagely, licking at her lips until she granted him access, and his tongue dipped inside to tangle with hers. She nipped at his lips and was rewarded with a growl. His hands fell to her waist and lifted her. She was mindless, grinding down, down, down as more wetness eased his path. His every thrust met her fluid slide down, teasing her sensitive inner walls sumptuously, and her racing blood heated to boiling point as they moved together to find bliss. She was crazed, and he loved it. His kiss turned bruising as he helped her out, rocking his hips into hers while plundering her mouth. 

Her hands tugged at his hair, trying to pull him inside her and surely causing him pain, but he didn’t seem to notice. His hands mapped her covered back, slipping down to grasp hold of her ass and knead until she practically purred. The friction of his cock against her tender flesh, his hands squeezed her ass as she clumsily bounced over him and narrowly avoided smacking her head off the car roof as her hands turned to claws and buried themselves in his shoulder for purchase. Heat and flame twined within her, coiling and tightening until she shook in his arms, desperate to release the pressure building and smothering rational thought. It was always the same after they were apart for a while: explosive and devastating when they got time alone to banish the time apart with bite marks and tattooed kisses on her neck. 

When the song ended, the few seconds of silence permeated by their muffled grunts and harsh breathing before the next song played, and worries about the chauffeur hearing them evaporated once more as she took him to the hilt. Out of breath and drowning in his kiss, his cock stretching her cunt most sublimely, she managed to drag herself away from his clever mouth to draw in air as he took over her erratic movements. At the first flutter of her inner walls, he smirked and slammed her down on his cock so hard her teeth rattled, and her toes curled with the shock of it. 

“Touch yourself for me. Try and keep it down.” He said, voice like silk over gravel as she deliberately tensed herself and pulled a dark low moan from his chest. 

Nodding as he latched into her lips, swallowing her cries as he upped the pace, she sobbed as her hand found where they were joined, folds split by his cock as she swirled her fingers over her clit. Her heart was a rabbit in her chest, slipping over itself as pleasure sparked like fireworks through her bloodstream, and her focus turned inward to the incredible feel of his cock inside her taut wet heat. A few swipes of her fingers around her clit as the pressure rose like steam and scalded her, Jake impaling her on his length, and the car rolling to a stop made her ignite like wildfire. He shushed her as release swamped her, barrelling toward her like a freight train as her body arced. Her stuttering moan was swallowed by his bristled mouth as his cock jumped inside her tight clasp, lifting her useless, flailing body to follow her off the edge. 

Glittering desire and sheer happiness soaked through her as her essence drenched Jake's cock. Her skin stretched too thin, nerves flayed and exposed as her cunt clenched down on his length and held him captive, dragging out her pleasure until she was a babbling, writhing mess. She had missed him deeply, missed this almost as much as he slammed her down with a growl that tasted finer than anything she’d ever tried as he came inside her shivering form. His hands shook as they held her down, her twitching and soft moans helping neither as they reeled themselves back in. He took her mouth in a lazy, dirty kiss, his softening cock inside her a thrill she hadn’t expected, and she almost wanted to ask him to stay locked inside her until she forgot they’d been apart. 

Time waited for no man, especially not Kenzi. It wasn’t long before Jake urged her to make herself presentable as he tucked himself away and straightened his shirt, crumpled by her tight fists. She cringed as she felt his seed slip from her body, eyes glancing around for something to use to clean up when Jake caught her attention and held something out to her. She took it, frowning as she felt the worn fabric and recognized it as the t-shirt he wore whenever they lazed around the house. 

“Are you sure?” She asked, feeling oddly guilty at ruining it but charmed by his care as he smiled gently at her. 

He nodded and cut his eyes to the window, the only privacy he could give her as she hastily did her best to wipe the mess between her thighs away as their driver called through the intercom to let them know they’d be boarding her plane within moments. Her heart and mind were at peace as they left the safety of their sex-scented chariot and hid underneath massive umbrellas to make it aboard the plane without too many seeing them. It wasn’t until they were in the air, Jake dozing on her shoulder, and her eyelids dropped as she stared out at the night sky high above the earth, that she allowed herself to rejoice in having him back where he belonged. The next time she went away for work, she would ensure he was free to come visit before booking anything. Her life wasn’t peaceful, but moments of peace resided in the silence on their way home; the echoes of a love they found and shared in dire times only strengthened now they could live in the open. Her only regret? That they didn’t meet sooner. But they could make up for lost time. That thought followed her into sleep, and Kenzi's long day finally ended.

~*~

I added a reference to one of my fave smut writing songs in there. Actually, the whole scene basically came from that but as it wasn’t a Taylor song, I couldn’t use it as the title 😂 Partition by Beyoncé! “Chauffeur eavesdropping tryin not to crash!”

Thank you for reading, reblogging or commenting, whatever you do, I am grateful. Thank you for spending your precious time with me 🥰❤️