the person that you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger

JACK

Gods - the word forms on Jack's lips without it ever finding his voice, given how Flora steals his mouth in a kiss so desperate that it makes something dark and possessive curl low in his belly; the same something that had him punching out some poor sap at the edge of the forest, the same something that had him sailing across a region at the barest whisper of Flora having been hurt. The feel of her sears along the delicate strands of his magic like a drug, one he's been without for far too long, and it's with the dull thud of her heels hitting the grass in his ears that he thrusts into her again.

She might well keep him there forever, if this fire could burn indefinitely, and though Jack's lungs scream for air, though the bark of the tree has frosted over and the ground around them is suddenly blanketed in soft, white flowers, he doesn't - can't - stop. The way her name had hit the air still echoes in his mind with each brutal snap of his hips, and he forces them to part if only so he might be able to hear it again, louder, unapologetic.

"Touch yourself," he invites, shifting only enough to make space for her hand to slip between them, to give him a front row seat to her building ecstasy.

fight so dirty but you love so sweet
talk so pretty but your heart got teeth

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!