#if this gets enough attention I will make another part | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rafecameronssl4t · 2 days

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Reminder || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: It was just harmless banter between you and another socialite, but rafe reminds again you what the diamond ring meant on your finger.

Warnings: angst, jealous/possesive rafe hehehehe

Word count: 2,160

A/n: guys guys guys it's getting hot in here.

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

The gala is in full swing, the grand ballroom echoing with the hum of conversation and the soft clinking of champagne glasses. You stand next to Rafe, dressed to perfection in an elegant gown that draws more than a few eyes in your direction. Rafe's hand rests lightly on your waist, his touch possessive but distant—as it usually is during events like this—as you mingle with other high-society figures.

The night feels long, your polished smile tiring as you listen to half-hearted pleasantries from the guests surrounding you. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Alexander Hawthorne making his way over, his smile wide and confident, his eyes locked on you. He’s known for his silver tongue and effortless charm, especially with married women. Tonight, his gaze feels particularly intent.

"Well, well, if it isn't the most beautiful woman in the room," Alexander says smoothly, his eyes lingering on you just a little too long. "You always manage to outshine everyone, don’t you?" You offer a playful smile, aware of Rafe's tightening grip on your waist. "Oh, you flatter me, Alexander," you reply lightly, not fully dismissing the compliment. "But I’m sure there are plenty of others here more deserving of your attention." Alexander chuckles, clearly pleased that you're playing along.

"I highly doubt that. No one else in this room could possibly compare." His eyes flicker briefly to Rafe, but he seems unfazed by his presence. "I was actually hoping to steal you away for a dance, if I may be so bold." You glance at Rafe from the corner of your eye. His jaw is clenched, his posture rigid, but he says nothing. The tension between you and him has been building over the past few weeks, and part of you enjoys testing his limits.

"A dance?" you echo, your tone teasing. "That sounds tempting." Rafe’s hand tightens even more on your waist, his irritation palpable. "I don’t think that’s a good idea," Rafe’s voice cuts through the playful banter, his tone sharp and controlled, though you can feel the storm brewing beneath the surface. His grip on your waist has gone from possessive to borderline painful, but you don’t flinch.

Instead, you tilt your head and glance up at him, your expression sweet yet defiant. "Oh? Why not, darling?" you ask, your voice dripping with mock innocence. "It’s just a harmless dance." Alexander, sensing the tension but relishing the drama, grins wider. "Come on, Rafe, it’s just a dance. Surely you trust your wife enough to let her have a bit of fun tonight?"

You notice Rafe’s jaw clench even tighter. He glares at Alexander, but the challenge is unspoken, simmering beneath the surface. You can feel Rafe’s jealousy in the way his body stiffens beside you, and for some reason, the idea of provoking him further feels oddly satisfying. "I don’t mind," you continue, turning your gaze back to Alexander.

"After all, it’s not every day a charming man asks me to dance." Rafe’s fingers dig into your side, and you suppress a wince, though your heart flutters at the possessiveness. "You’re not going anywhere," Rafe says, his voice dangerously low. His eyes lock on Alexander, who merely raises his brow in amusement.

"Rafe," you start, keeping your tone light though there’s an edge to it, "you’re being dramatic. It’s just one dance." But you know you’ve pushed him too far. The moment the words leave your lips, you feel Rafe's grip on your waist disappear, replaced by an icy tension that makes your breath catch. In one swift motion, Rafe steps forward, his broad shoulders blocking Alexander from your view entirely.

His stance is commanding, exuding an unmistakable fury, though his face remains composed—a deadly calm that’s somehow more terrifying than if he had exploded. "Back off, Hawthorne," Rafe snaps, his voice a cold, simmering threat. Each word is sharp, delivered with a quiet intensity that sends a chill through the air. "You don’t want to test me right now." If it wasn't Rafe height that loomed over him that intimidated him, it was the icy look in Rafe's eyes that did.

Alexander’s usual bravado falters, and though he holds up his hands in a gesture of nonchalance, the gleam in his eyes fades. If it wasn’t Rafe’s towering height that made him take a step back, it was the icy, penetrating look in Rafe’s eyes. Alexander hesitates, his playful smirk faltering, eyes flickering between you and Rafe.

"Alright, alright. Didn’t mean to step on any toes." He glances at you with a wink before adding, "But you can’t blame a man for trying, right?" Rafe’s gaze doesn’t waver. His silence hangs heavy in the space between them, tension crackling like electricity. It’s clear that Alexander, for all his charm and wit, knows better than to push Rafe any further.

As soon as Alexander retreats, Rafe's shoulders remain stiff, his body radiating with tension. The darkness in his eyes lingers, the anger now fully redirected toward you. Without a word, his hand closes around your wrist, not painfully, but firmly enough to make it clear that this conversation isn’t over. He pulls you with him, weaving through the crowd and out of the grand ballroom, into the quieter, more secluded hallways of the estate.

The moment you’re alone, Rafe spins around to face you, his body towering over yours as he leans down, his breath warm and rapid against your ear. The fury in his gaze makes your stomach twist with both dread and excitement. "What the hell was that?" Rafe growls, his voice barely above a whisper but thick with anger. His grip on your wrist tightens just slightly as he looks down at you, eyes wild with accusation.

"Flirting with him right in front of me?" You lift your chin, meeting his gaze with a calmness you don’t quite feel. "It was just harmless fun, Rafe," you reply, though your voice lacks its usual conviction, "you’re the one who overreacted." "Harmless?" Rafe repeats, his voice growing even lower, his face so close now you can feel the heat of his hander.

"He was crossing the line, and frankly, so were you" Rafe steps closer, his body looming over you, his hand gripping your waist. "You think I didn’t see the way he was looking at you? Or how you were playing along?" You swallow, your heart beating faster at the intensity in his eyes. "Maybe I was," you admit, your voice steady but challenging. "Maybe I wanted to see how far I could push you. Like I said, it was harmless."

Rafe's grip on your waist tightens even further, his fingers pressing firmly into your side, the pressure bordering on painful. You let out a small groan, a sound that escapes involuntarily from the mix of discomfort and the charged intensity of the moment. The pain is sharp, a physical reminder of his anger and possessiveness, and you can’t help but shiver at the heat of his touch.

"I don't care if it was harmless," Rafe growls, his voice low and dangerous. "You're not playing those fucking games with me." Each word is punctuated with a barely restrained fury, his breath hot against your skin. You want to speak, to push back, but the fire in Rafe's eyes freezes you in place. The fierce protectiveness radiating from him mixes with his jealousy, overwhelming and intoxicating.

His hand moves from your waist to your hand, fingers brushing over the large diamond on your wedding ring. "Did you forget what this ring meant?" Rafe's voice is low, almost a growl, as he taps the diamond, each tap a reminder of the vow that binds you both. The possessiveness in his touch sends a shudder through you, your breath catching as his lips graze your ear once more.

You can feel the tension thick in the air between you, the hallway around you fading into insignificance as his words cut deep. "You’re mine," he whispers, his tone raw, dangerous, and resolute. "And I don’t share." Your heart pounds in your chest, a mix of thrill and fear coursing through you at the intensity of his words. You glance down at the ring he’s tapping, a tangible symbol of everything that’s between you—love, control, obligation, desire. It’s suffocating, yet addictive.

You shiver as Rafe’s words linger in the air, thick with possessiveness. His grip on your wrist tightens, but it’s the way he looks at you that keeps you frozen in place—intense, unrelenting, a silent challenge burning in his eyes. You try to keep your composure, to push back against the overwhelming force of his jealousy. "Rafe," you say softly, your voice barely steady. "It was just a dance. It wouldn’t have meant anything."

"That’s not the fucking point," he snaps, his tone sharper now. He steps closer, his body pressing against yours, almost forcing you to look up at him. "You knew exactly what you were doing. I saw the way you looked at him—like you wanted me to react." You swallow hard, but you refuse to break eye contact. "Maybe I did," you admit, your voice low but challenging. "Maybe I wanted to see if you even care."

The words hang between you, and for a moment, Rafe’s expression shifts—his anger momentarily flickering into something else, something raw and vulnerable. But just as quickly, his walls slam back up, his face hardening again. He releases your wrist, but not before pulling you closer, his lips inches from yours, the tension crackling between you.

"Care?" he growls. "You think I don’t care when I’m right here, watching you entertain someone else? You’re mine, and I won’t let anyone forget it." You feel the possessiveness in his words like a pulse between you, and despite the storm raging inside him, there’s something about it that draws you in. His jealousy, his frustration—it’s all because of you, because deep down, beneath the cold exterior, he does care. You can feel it, even if he won’t admit it out loud.

Your voice softens, just enough to break through the tension. "I wasn’t trying to make you angry, Rafe." "You know that’s a lie," he murmurs, his eyes locked onto yours. His voice drops lower, and you can feel the intensity in his words. "But you succeeded. And I don’t like being tested." You glance down for a moment, trying to gather yourself, but when you look back up at him, your heart beats faster.

"Maybe I wanted to see if you still care. Lately… it feels like you’ve been distant." His jaw clenches at your confession, his eyes narrowing slightly. For a brief second, something softer flickers across his features—a trace of regret. But Rafe doesn’t back down, his hand still resting on your lower back, firm and possessive. "I’ve been busy," he mutters, but you know it’s not the full truth. You’re about to push him on it when he pulls you closer, his breath warm against your cheek.

"But that doesn’t mean I don’t care. You should know that by now." You let the silence stretch between you, your body pressed against his as you absorb his words. His anger, his frustration, all boil down to the same thing—he doesn’t want to lose you, not to someone like Alexander or anyone else. "You don’t have to act so cold all the time, you know," you whisper, your voice soft but daring.

Rafe’s lips curl slightly into a smirk, though his eyes remain serious. "You think I’m cold?" "Most of the time." You challenge him, your tone laced with honesty. His hand moves from your back to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Then I’ll remind you," he says, his voice low and dangerous, "how I feel about you."

Before you can respond, Rafe leans in and captures your lips with his, the kiss fierce and possessive, like he’s trying to prove something—to himself, to you. His hand tightens around you, pulling you closer until there’s no space between you, every inch of his body pressing against yours. The kiss is raw, full of unspoken frustration, but also something deeper—something neither of you are ready to name.

When he finally pulls back, his breathing heavy, he keeps his forehead pressed against yours. "Don’t ever doubt that you’re mine," he whispers, his voice ragged but full of conviction. Your breath comes in shallow, your heart racing from the intensity of it all. "And you’re mine," you murmur back, your fingers curling into his jacket, holding him close.

Rafe pulls you back into him, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Let’s get out of here. I’m done with this place." Without waiting for your response, he takes your hand and leads you out of the manor, his grip possessive, his pace quick. You follow silently, your heart racing, knowing that tonight’s encounter has stirred something deeper between you both—something raw and dangerous that neither of you can ignore any longer.

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itsscaredycat · 2 days

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ah yes…

my thoughts under the cut (turned out to be longer than initially intended lol)

honestly, kinda mixed feelings :’)

it’s great that the fandom is making a comeback because gravity falls is seriously an amazing piece of media, and all the offshoots that came from the main series are equally incredible. it deserves this second wave of attention and more! still one of my favourites, all the mysteries and secret codes back in the day changed my brain chemistry lmao

as far as personal feelings go, i can’t believe the amount of people i’ve had tell me that i inspired them in some way to be an artist through my old gravity falls art, it’s amazing! and i am so flattered and happy that i could have that kind of positive influence on people. art is my passion and knowing i had a hand in making it other people’s as well is a really cool feeling :’) i read every single message i get in my askbox and some of them have made me legitimately emotional (in a good way)

but then on the opposite side, there are a lot of people— most of whom i have never interacted with— who have a fully formed opinion on me based on actions of mine that are almost a decade old. just knowing that has been crippling, i’m ND and i’ve always struggled with anxiety issues surrounding how others think of me. it feels kinda hopeless and scary, because there is no way my current actions and the ways i’ve changed will ever reach all of them. but i’m only human, all i can do is focus on the positive and keep being kind in both my offline and online lives, and hope it comes back around

the shy part of me wishes i was just another person in the fandom so that i could share my art without fear of hateful comments, but also having made enough of an impact that something i made got acknowledged in “canon” is hilarious and pretty fucking cool (shoutout to @valdevia LOL) i’m just gonna keep doing what i’ve always done: make art because it makes me happy, and share it in hopes it will make others happy too 🩷

#i’ve had a few weeks to marinate #tldr im happy and grateful for the support i’ve gotten lately <3 #i’m not very good at articulating my feelings in words i’m sorry #i tried my best

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 days

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Can we get a part 2 of "get off the floor" ? It was sooo good

you know what? why the fuck not.

get off the floor, m | jjk >> get on the floor, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You order Jeon Jungkook to get on the floor. He says, “Make me.” You make him get on his knees. The exact place he wants to be and the perfect place for him.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; bratty (needy) JK; wedding guests reader and JK get a damn room because they are not-safe-for-public, traumatizing some elevator patrons in the process; public teasing; smut (fem dom!reader + sub!JK, begging, biting, marking, spit kink, f and m-receiving oral, slight degrading talk (not really), whipping JK with his own belt, cowgirl, cock-and-ball torture, edging, forced multiple orgasms) ft. a cameo of certain lil meowmeow chastising them for being horny ;)

“Mine or yours?”

You watched him run the scenarios in his head. “Mine.”

“Ah,” you mused. “Mine then.”

He ran to catch up with your quick strides, looking just about as done with you as you had with him less than twenty minutes ago when he was laying on the floor being insufferable. Deserved. He grumbled under his breath. “Why ask if you’re just going to ignore me anyway?”

You turned and faced Jeon Jungkook, forcing him to stop dead in his tracks and almost collide with you. His white dress shirt was barely buttoned. At least he had the decency to fasten the black vest back up and haphazardly shrug on his blazer. You looked up at him, pointedly, although it was more to fluster him with the lines of your collarbones and cleavage. Instantly wiped the frown from his expression and replaced it with the struggle to focus on your face.

“Why follow if you’re against it?” you asked, completely blocking his path.

“I…” He fumbled with his words. “I’m not.”

“You’re not?”

You both stood in the hallway, so close to the lobby that you could hear voices. You watched Jungkook bite his lower lip, the awareness that if anyone happened to walk by – hotel staff, wedding guest, random patron – would bear witness to you slowly backing him into the wall, expression unchanging, until your chest was pressed against his chest, the smooth curve of your breasts brushing against his bare skin.

You narrowed your eyes.

“You have another thing coming if you think you can take advantage of me,” you breathed. Slowly and with venom.

He seemed genuinely shocked. “No way.” His youth shone through despise his mature appearance. “I want you to take advantage of me.”

You raised an eyebrow.

Jungkook seemed to realize that he blurted out his secret desires a little too loud. His ears began to singe bright red. He tried to raise a hand to cover his face. You slapped it down. He whimpered, pressing his lips together so that only you could hear it vibrating from his chest to yours. You saw his eyes dart about to check if anyone was around.

You grabbed his chin with three fingers, dragging his face back down.

Dark brown orbs shaking, his pink lips parting as you forcefully brought attention back to you. You leaned in, your lips moving against the side of his open mouth, whispering to his lip piercings.

“Then why your hotel room?” you asked rather calmly.

Hesitation. Then voices seemed to be moving towards you both. Panic. Jungkook attempted to escape your grasp, but you gripped his chin harder and shoved your torso into his, stepping between his legs to imprison him against the wall. He gasped in your ear. Hot and saturated with desire. You began to slide your thigh up between his and Jungkook couldn’t speak fast enough, his hands finding your hips and trying to keep you away from his growing erection lest he lose his common sense and give in to all he wanted.

“I wanted to see you in my clothes after,” he whined, squeezing his eyes shut to avoid your stare. “In only one of my t-shirts… And… M-Maybe we could s-share in a b-bed – please, s-stop… I can’t–”

You backed away.

He had not even registered your body heat left until a second later, bolting upright as a group of women turned the corner. Other wedding guests in fine dresses and holding cute colorful purses, deeply engrossed in conversation and fits of giggles, heading to the restrooms presumably to freshen up. You were already walking the opposite way, towards to lobby and the elevators.

You couldn’t help but smirk as you heard Jungkook bolt into a run to catch up.

Careful of your skirt, you stepped into the metal box with a few other hotel guests that seemed unrelated to the wedding. The doors began to close. A tattooed hand smacked the edge of the metal and the elevator stuttered, opening back up again to a red-faced Jungkook in a three-piece black suit with his white dress shirt half-open suddenly confronted by a scattering of startled faces.

And your enigmatic smile.

He weakly apologized and slunk into the elevator.

Now everyone was trying not to make eye contact with you both.

You tugged on the hem of his blazer and pulled him closer to the corner. He could do nothing but obey. From this angle, the rest of the elevator couldn’t see your expression due to his broad shoulders crowding you. Only Jungkook could. He, however, had a harder time of hiding, due to his height and his slicked-back black hair. The elevator carriage began to rise. You spotted him reaching up to smooth back a few stray strands in attempt to disguise previous dishevelment.

You raised your hand.

Jungkook’s dark eyes shot towards the action, warning you and mouthing, “Don’t.”

You traced the line of his pecs. His jaw clenched. You broke into his personal bubble to murmur, “What floor was the hotel room on again?”

Confusion clouded his features. His hand slid to the back of his head. The doors were opening and a few people stepped out. The rest were subjected to the sexual tension brewing in a corner. You smiled up at him, as innocently as a trickster could. Jungkook raised his other hand, probably to point to you to wordlessly ask what floor your room was on, but you scooted forward, grazing hip to hip, causing his hand to ghost your ass. Scarlet alarm rushed to his cheeks.

Your fingertip snuck closer and closer to his nipple.

His right arm dropped hastily and he mashed the button for the nineteenth floor, trying to push your hand down, inadvertently causing your nail to scratch against his already-erect nipple.

It seemed to take everything in him not to moan.

The doors slid open to the tenth floor and another couple hurried out. You gave Jungkook the devil’s smile. He glared at you. And shifted awkwardly. You glanced down. Then back up. He was trying not to look at you while also staring down your chest. Or maybe at the bulge in his slacks.

You paused as you felt his hand settle on the small of your back.

Now when your eyes rose, his did too. Somewhat uncertain. You didn’t move away. He seemed to be searching for something. You didn’t have anything to hide, so you let him look. You saw his lashes lower. He pulled you slightly closer. Leaned in, still searching, and you let him approach, the edge of your lips faintly rising.

A harsh ping interrupted.

“I would tell you two to get a room,” a dry, raspy male voice cut in from behind you.

The metal doors slid open. Jungkook started, backing off, revealing the unintentional audience. Dark olive-green jacket. Black beanie with black hair sticking out from the back. Black track pants and sandals. The pale man was carrying a plastic bag that seemed to be full of ramen. He glanced from Jungkook to you. Shook his head and walked past you both, smelling like fresh-cut pine.

His cat-like eyes found yours as the elevator began to close.

“But I assume that is what you are about to do.”

The not-so-strange stranger’s smirk disappeared as the doors shut.

The light from the panel of buttons switched only once. The doors opened again, to floor nineteen. Only you and Jungkook were left in the carriage. He grabbed your hand and pulled you out to the hallway, practically flying down the halls as quietly as he could. You were still a bit taken aback by the cat-like man who spoke with faint Daegu intonation, but were broken out of your thoughts as you saw Jungkook drop his room card, scramble to catch it from the air, succeed, and then fail to have the card reader scan it because he was pulling out too fast.

Hm.

You placed your palm in front of the reader.

His hand was shaking. He shot you a lost and frustrated glance, but you simply took the hotel key and inserted it into the slot, letting it turn green before removing it and opening the door. You stepped in, followed close by Jungkook. So close his crotch hit your ass. Subtle. The heavy door slid shut, automatically clicking. And then.

Darkness.

For a breathless second, the world was completely, utterly still.

You heard his breathing quicken, as if he finally realized the implications of everything up until now. It was easy to want, Jungkook learned, but much harder to do once the miracle came true. Perhaps that was too nice of a way to put it.

His idea of paradise was clearly not heaven sent.

You caught his hand in the dark, lacing your fingers in his to draw him away from the light switch.

Your name on the tip of his tongue before you kissed him deeply.

In the dark, he hadn’t noticed your body twist, silent as a snake, slipping the hotel keycard back into one of the font pockets of his slacks, and now you gripped his hand, holding it up and out of the way as your other hand roamed his skin, sliding up his collarbone and fanning over his neck. Devouring. You swallowed his gasp and tilted your head, softly coaxing his cries as you pressed your fingertips into the sides of his neck, relishing in the solidness of his muscles and the fragility of his sanity.

“A-Ah…”

You turned your head and used your hand to pivot him the opposite way. His wispy moan breezed past your cheek. It wasn’t quite as important to be silent anymore, but darkness had the ability to hush all, snatching vision away to amplify touch and sound. Your hand cradled his head and forced him down, your lips feathering over his cheekbone.

To his ear.

You circled your tongue, tasting the curve. Jungkook’s moan pitched. You felt him fighting his blazer as you kissed his ear, whisper light, almost noiseless, licking up his neck to feel his pulse against your tongue. Exhaled. His entire body quivered. He threw the blazer down onto the floor and grabbed your hips, almost lifting you in his pleasure, bringing more of his ear to you.

You bit down.

“Oh, fuuuuck…”

His fingers glossed over the slinky fabric, one hand on your ass the other creeping up your back, stroking your skin to guide delightful shimmers up your spine. He provoked you to bite his neck. You teased him with small kisses. Wet tongue, subtly writing your name onto his neck with your spit. A momentary tattoo only you knew. He was impatient, digging his blunt nails into your flesh.

You couldn’t resist teasing.

“What’s the matter?”

His trembling breath drifted down to your shoulder.

“B… Bite me.”

You stepped forward with one leg, smiling as you felt him press back against you, his hardness slipping into the divot of your thigh and crotch. Too many layers of clothes. Just the right amount of not enough.

“I can’t,” you hummed, running your tongue over the line of his neck muscle. “What if you have someone?”

Jungkook sounded a little bit offended and a lot whiny.

“There’s no one but you.”

Before you could become giddy over that – and, anyway, nothing was stopping him from lying – you bit the side of his neck, just under his ear. And sucked.

Hard.

It was an intimacy high unmatched. Skin between teeth, digging your fingernails into his chest, dragging down, scratching him as you bruised him, feeling his embrace loosen because the bliss of pain seized him. A gasping, weak groan fluttered from his lungs, up to his throat, leaving his lips in a drawn-out, sensual song of your name, lazily thrusting up against your thigh. Sweet friction. You lashed your tongue over the hickey. Left a constellation of bites surrounding it. Jungkook whimpered, stumbling as you caught his ear with your teeth and lightly tugged, subtly repositioning your bodies.

You flicked on the light switch.

The sconces on the walls lit up in a soft, pale white glow.

You looked down and the bruises were red-purple, a lasting mark beginning to deepen in color.

Your eyes shifted and Jungkook was staring back at you, panting. His carefully done hair was getting messier with every minute he spent with you. His vest was somehow on the floor. His dress shirt was barely hanging on his shoulders, the spread collar framing the top of his tattoo sleeve. The only reason he wasn’t completely shirtless yet was because the bottom was stuck in the top of his slacks. His belt was still buckled.

You smiled. He seemed flustered by it.

You placed a hand on his bare shoulder.

“Get on the floor.”

His dark eyes glittered. He couldn’t help himself.

“Make me.”

Your smile became a little more sinister. He balked and then buckled when the toe of your heel hooked into the back of his knee, making him lose his balance. You pressed down, firmly, pushing him to kneeling position. Your heel clicked back onto the tile floor as he caught himself, keeping steady as he realized you were using his body to balance yourself.

Jungkook lifted his head. Eyes wide. Hair over his forehead.

You looked down at him with a devil’s smirk.

“I thought you said… That my suit was too expensive to be on the floor,” he mumbled in meek protest.

He tried to be cheeky with it. His deep voice fluttered like butterfly wings.

Instead of truly replying, you stepped a little closer to his spread knees. You watched him hold his breath, then stiffen as you placed your right foot on his thigh. The slit of your dress parted like liquid violet, the deep color catching the light at the high points of your hip and the top of your thigh. You removed your hand from his shoulder, thoroughly keeping him in place with your high heel, and slipped your fingers at the apex of the slit, hiking it up. The heavy scent of your arousal was inescapable. Heavy and musky sweet. His eyes dropped down at the grand reveal, then widened as you traced the edge of the leg opening of your panties.

You curved your fingers and pulled the thin fabric aside.

Jungkook was now face-to-face with your glistening pussy.

“Hungry?” you teased.

His pleading gaze shot back up to your amused expression. You held it in breathless anticipation. Then you answered yourself.

“I hope so.”

Then you grabbed his head and shoved it in between your legs.

You caught a glimpse of his lips parting, pink tongue extending, and then you felt the warmth envelop you from below. His hand slid up your leg, leaving sparks after his trailing caress. Pleasure like soft petals closing in, and you rocked your hips into his face, feeling his tongue spread your folds apart and dip inwards. His wanton groan made your body vibrate. You gave in, riding his face with your head tipped back, closing your eyes. Rather than hearing the wet sucking sounds, you felt them electrify your nerves. From bud to blossoming bliss, causing you hiss with desire, crowning his head with your spread fingers and holding up your dress with the other. Jungkook tilted his head, closing in around your clit while lifting your leg on his thigh, and now the back of your knee was resting on his shoulder, the adjustment spreading your legs further and giving him the space to press his tongue flat to rub more roughly.

You moaned his name, low and seductive, and felt him shudder under you.

You leaned more of your weight on him and he received it well, holding your legs with his hands, licking, sucking, following the thrust of your hips into his face. You could feel your arousal dripping down, sticking to the inside of your thighs and his cheeks. He moaned in his chest and it radiated through your core, crawling closer and closer to the crescendo, ah, almost, your lashes fluttering, your grip on your dress tightening as orgasmic gravity began to pull you down.

“Fuck, Jungkook, I’m going to cum on your face,” you sighed out, twisting your fingers and pulling on his hair.

His muffled whimper sent you over the edge.

You set your jaw and exhaled heavily, bucking your hips into his mouth and spilling onto his tongue, electric elation clawing up your ass and back. Your body tensed up, completely focused on the surge of pleasure rippling through you, pressing your thigh against his ear. Your hand on his head slid down, holding him in place while your rode it out, smearing your release on his lips. You could, just barely, feel his piercings indenting your skin.

You almost didn’t let him breathe.

Then you let go.

Your head rolled back. Opened your eyes to look down, and Jungkook shuddered, his hot breath warming your heat. He leaned in again. Kiss after kiss, his tongue sliding out and licking up, closing his eyes to savor your taste, sending tingles after the high, before slowly opening those dark orbs to look up at you. You brushed his hair back from his forehead to fully appreciate the view.

He raised an eyebrow at you.

You untangled your leg from his shoulder and stepped back, taking away his pleasure.

His hands slipped from your body. Jungkook was distraught, desperation flaring in his eyes, about to crawl after you, but your swept down, flourishing your right hand and catching his chin in your palm, tilting it up.

His lips shone with your cum.

He froze.

You bowed, disrespectfully, bringing your face to his level, breathing in the perfume of your sex mixed with his cologne. You raised an eyebrow back at him even though he was back to being frozen in awe.

“Tongue-tied?”

You taunted him. Jungkook didn’t have the sense or sanity to have a smartass comeback.

“Take mine,” you offered.

And tilted your head to taste yourself.

In. Out. Your tongue outlined his moaning lips and dove back in, thrusting steadily, turning the kiss messy with your release drying on his cheeks and your saliva smearing down his lower lip. You flicked the tip of your tongue just under the center. His eyes were barely open, pupils blown out, unfocused, letting you claim his lips with no regard to himself except for sucking on your tongue when you allowed it.

You heard him swallow.

His eyes rolled back, and his entire body trembled with a breathless gasp.

You drew back to admire Jeon Jungkook on his knees, his white dress shirt pooling at his wrists and waist. All tan skin, gleaming muscles, and stunning tattoos.

His dress shoes and your heels were tossed into an inelegant pile quite unbecoming of you both.

Lust did that.

“Do you have a condom, by chance?” you asked.

You gave him a little bit of shit for having one buried in his suitcase. His toiletries bag shaped with a pink bunny motif, for fuck’s sake. He tried to hide it from you, as if you would find cute offensive. Had he ever looked in a mirror? But you let him be. His occupied hands gave you a chance to free yourself from your dress. You had paid for it to be tailored to your body, eliminating the need for a bra as it was already built in. Your hotel room key was tucked into the padding of the left breast. Creativity had to happen when there were no pockets. You didn’t have your phone or wallet. The wedding had a strict no-phone policy and the meal was complimentary, so you had left your personal things behind in your room. You were careful to hold onto the cups as you unzipped. The thin straps naturally slipped down your shoulders, no longer supported by the tension. The dark purple fabric slid down your body gradually with some help from a light shake of your ass.

You stepped out of it and lifted the dress up, draping it over one of the chairs in the hotel room.

You turned and Jungkook was staring at you with jaw dropped.

Hm.

He had managed to pull his shirt out of his pants. It lay on the floor, its white crispness rumpled with impatience. You pointedly glanced from the shirt to his naked chest. He held the line of condoms with one hand, the foil packaging shining in the light. Your eyes went to his face. He seemed taken aback. Suddenly nervous. You said nothing. With a tick of your head, you bent over and slid your thumbs under the sides of your bunched-up panties and glided them down your legs. Caught them in the air as you stepped out of them.

And placed them on the hotel dresser, right on top of Jungkook’s cell phone that happened to be there.

Your fingertips strayed on the edge as you face him again.

“Oh, fuck me,” he whispered under shallow breath.

You smiled with the innocence you stole from him and advanced.

You wondered if he meant to say it out loud. Didn’t mind his little slip-ups though. His ears reddened as you stopped in front of him. You stared into Jungkook’s eyes. He held his breath. You reached low and unbuckled his belt, gently teasing it apart and pulling from the buckle. It snaked around his waist, freed from the pant loops. The last of it fell into your other palm.

With a swift flick, you drew the buckle and end together, snapping the leather loop sharply in front of Jungkook’s chest.

“A-Ah!”

He came back to life, freezing immediately when you touched the loop to his pecs. It was a smooth grain leather. Very high quality. You grazed it over his skin. Turned it slightly as you neared his nipple, brushing the hard edge over the hard nub. He moaned in your face, biting his lip once he realized his impoliteness. You did it again. His eyelids fluttered, lowering to half-moons, clutching the condoms.

From your periphery, you witnessed his other hand sneak down to palm himself.

You turned the belt in your hands. You held the buckle with your left.

The look in his eyes was divine, craving punishment.

“You like pain,” you whispered. “Don’t you?”

Jungkook gave you the faintest of nods, sinking his teeth into the side of his lower lip, revealing the tiny mole underneath.

You smacked the smooth leather of the end of the belt into his chest.

“Answer me.”

He hissed, clenching his jaw while rubbing the highest point of the bulge in his slacks. You let him enjoy it. You were too busy enjoying the glassiness of his dark eyes.

“A-Ah, y-yes… Please…”

You slapped the leather against his other nipple. He gasped at the sharpness, ducking his head and seeing the slight red mark before you closed the distance, circling your tongue around it and making eye contact. You let your saliva drip. His breathing quickened, watching your every move. You drew patterns on his tense abs with the end of his own belt as you delicately bit down. Switched begin a light tap and a hard spank, all the while kissing his chest. You folded back the belt in your hand so it was easier to use the one end, alternating hits over wet skin and dry skin. His heartbeat raced under your lips. He let out a soft mewl, and then immediately tried to cover up such embarrassing noises, only to be reduced to puppy whimpers as you repeatedly smacked his nipple before roughly sucking on it.

At this point, Jungkook was practically humping his hand.

“Take it off.”

You warmed his shivering torso with your harsh command.

“Stroke your cock while I abuse you.”

Jungkook whined, incomprehensible. He was already doing his best to undo the button. You heard the zipper go down as you straightened. You whipped the belt over his bunched pecs. He gasped, almost a scream, shoving his slacks and boxer briefs down together. You had about a half second to appreciate how hard and how red he was before he wrapped his hand around his girth, his eyes nearly rolling back into his head, and he began to fuck his hand.

His pants didn’t even have time to fall down his thighs.

You did exactly what he wanted.

Licked up his chest. Spanked across the red trail, leaving a reddened mark. You did not give in to the adrenaline, keeping each hit within measured force, switching between hard and soft, not allowing him to become desensitized. The pain was unpredictable. The contrast made each loud slap seem worse than it was. His skin turned red. His eyes glazed over. His head tilted back slightly, the volume of his moans rising, his body rigid. You wondered if he knew that would help disperse the pain, but didn’t ask. The desperate lust was making him drunker than the alcohol he had consumed earlier.

The muscles of his neck tightened.

“Don’t cum,” you warned.

“P-P-Please…” He seemed on the brink of losing it. “Don’t… d-do this…”

You waited until the last second.

Then you shifted the belt in your hands, holding onto both ends, and tucked the loop under his balls, forcefully tugging upwards.

“Drop it.”

He obeyed instantly despite the tears on the edge of his eyes. The heavy weight of his hard cock struck the belt, dipping it down. You lifted the leather to fully cup his shaft and, while holding his terrified, eager gaze, slowly crossed your hands over, trapping his cock in a makeshift leather ring with his belt.

His cock throbbed so strongly that you felt it almost dislodge your work of art.

You raised an eyebrow.

Jungkook panted, waiting for your next order.

You glanced at the dark red-purple tip. It was shiny with pre-cum. Your gaze raised. His eyes were begging yes. His mouth kept up the act.

“N-No, don’t… please…”

“Touch it,” you murmured with the sweetness of a succubus.

His fingertips ghosted the sensitive skin and he almost buckled, shaking his head. You kept your grip on the belt, preventing him from lowering too much. If he wanted to escape you, all he would have to do was back up. But Jeon Jungkook did not want to escape you. He wanted to stare into your eyes and tease the leaking head of hic cock, shuddering and melting under the heat of your gaze, his body surrendering, subservient to your sublime, stinging conquest.

His hips were slowly thrusting.

His palm was against the tip, using the dripping pre-cum to stimulate himself as his fingertips rubbed along the underside. His lashes fluttered, doing his very best to not look away from you while also almost hitting the high of rolled-back eyes. The strong scent of his pre-cum and your arousal mixed together, saturating the air with pure sex. You took in every detail of his face, witnessing his fall to orgasm.

Almost.

You relaxed your hold on the belt.

“Fuck!”

Jungkook bit back his tongue and shot you his most helpless, longing expression. Probably two beats away from pleading you to whip his dick if only for the mere chance of release. It almost worked. Those big eyes truly were your downfall. You forced yourself to step away with a slow exhale, dropping the belt with a clunk and pointing to the bed.

“Lay on your back.”

You barely got the words out of your mouth. Jungkook nearly ripped the clothes off his body. You might have heard a seam pop. You pointed to the row of condoms in his hand and didn’t have the chance to ask before he separated one and ripped it open. On one hand, you wanted to reprimand him. On the other hand, the situation between your legs was getting rather dire.

You, too, were losing patience.

You stood on the edge of the bed, carefully observing Jungkook.

Those eyes trusted you a little too much after you whipped his chest red.

You decided to trust him too.

Slid onto the bed, crawling forward with immoral intention. In between his legs. He hesitated just before putting the condom on. You breathed out over his twitching cock. He whimpered. You loved it. Your tongue extended. With each throb, the head hit the flat of your tongue, transferring strings of spit down his length. His eyelids fluttered. You closed your lips around his hot, thick cock, unable to resist a taste, pressing him to the back of your throat, already addicted to the way he filled your mouth. You thought about edging him again but your pussy was pulsating with need.

You lifted your head, whispering darkly against his wet, shuddering cock.

“Fuck me.”

It was almost a growl.

The condom rolled down and you straddled him for the second time that night, using two fingers to hold him steady before sinking down, arching your back at the slick, full feeling of his cock entering you. It was a long-awaited reward, almost making you dizzy from the finality of it. Both of you moaned in unison. His hands found your thighs, kneading them, and you could feel him watching you, drinking in every detail with his eyes as you sank down, locking your hips to his.

Your gazes connected.

You couldn’t resist.

“Say please.”

His brows knitted together. You clenched around him. The defiance was instantly erased, replaced by submission.

“A-Ah…! Please…” The way your name dripped from his panting mouth was intoxicating. “Please…”

You rolled your hips into his with a firm smack.

The pleasure was glorious, direct, shooting through you from below. You drew up and thrust him back into you, again, and again, your breathing laboring as you rode him, drawing him and you to the abyss of lust. His gaze lingered on your bouncing breasts and he reached up, unsteadily, intoxicated on this feeling and refusing to sober up, sinking his fingers into the soft curves. You exhaled hard, blood tingling, moaning softly as his thumbs ran over your hard nipples, rubbing them in time of your rhythm. His fingertips were rough in the most arousing way, adding to the sensations amplifying each other, and so you let him touch you all over, feeling the edge of your lips tick upwards as your orgasm neared.

“I told you to fuck me, Jungkook.”

With half-moon eyes and a drawn-out moan, his hands slipped down your sides. Grabbed your hips and thrust up, making you both gasp. Hard. Slow. You pushed back down and both of you built to a brutal pace, your hands on his abs, digging your nails into hard muscle, and Jungkook was losing his mind, throwing his head back into the pillow, dripping sweat making his hair stick to his forehead. Your core burned, chasing the high, your back arching as well, matching each loud obscene smack with a satisfied cry, closer and harder and skipping breaths to withhold the faintest bit of oxygen.

Searing tension overcame your thighs.

You moaned to the ceiling and came all over his jerking cock, his groan pitching to a whine as he was suffocated by the spasms. You felt your pussy pulsate, dragging you into wave after wave of blistering bliss. The exertion had rendered you airless, gasping, squeezing Jungkook’s hips with your legs while you felt his grip on your ass tighten, sinking his spread fingers into the softness.

You froze, suspended.

Dying that little death.

You were still for a good thirty seconds. His cock throbbed inside you. You lowered your head, drifting down, down, meeting a fucked-out expression and unfocused gaze.

You smiled.

There was something so dangerous about it that it broke Jungkook from his reverie.

You lifted yourself off him, causing his length to slip out with a wet slap to his lower abdomen.

“W-What…?”

You made sure he saw you do it. Your hand extended, rolling up and he begged, “O-Oh, d-don’t… Please, you’re c-crazy…” and paying his words no mind as you dropped the used condom onto his stomach. You wrapped your hand around his slippery, sensitive cock covered in lube and cum.

Held him in panicked anticipation.

“Say it,” you demanded sternly. “You know what you want.”

The reality of his fantasy devoured him, and Jungkook desperately moaned.

“Please jack me off. Hard. Fast. Don’t stop.”

You gripped tightly and let the adrenaline flow. Power surged through your veins as he flinched, groaning into the pillow, his fingers digging into the sheets. His shaft felt hot, slick, stiff. You kept up an intense, harsh pace, and Jungkook cried out, almost thrashing, loudly whining as he came again. Cum pooled at the purple-red head, foaming as you continued, rising to press your knee to his lower ribs, holding him down. He was losing his mind, too oversensitive, whining, “Please, one more, o-oh fuck, f-fuck, please,” and you reached between his legs, tactfully pinching his scrotum and pulling on his balls with just the right amount of measured force.

Jungkook howled and slammed his head back into the pillow, thrusting up into your hand and orgasming so hard his own scream was cut off.

You ceased all movement.

His throbbing cock shivered and spat out a dribble of white that pooled around your fingers. You relieved his chest from the pressure of your knee. He coughed, sucking in greedy inhales, grabbing your calf as you dismounted. You turned your head. He was incredibly sweaty. His chest was tight. He looked like he had run a hundred kilometers.

Or like you just run him through.

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I-Is it c-crazy…” Jungkook panted, staring into your eyes. “That I… Want you to d-do that again?”

There he goes again with his antics.

“You really are a pain slut.”

His lips curved into a daredevil, open-mouthed smirk.

“I like that about you.”

His ears flustered red at your compliment. You held his stare there for another uncomfortable second – on his part – and then looked down at the messy, drenched sheets before finally returning to his face.

“You’re sleeping on this side,” you declared, sliding off the edge of the bed to wash your hands.

You spotted his open suitcase on your way to the dark bathroom. It was crammed with clothes. You bent down to pick up one of his t-shirts, a white Calvin Klein, slipping it on over your naked body. Flicked on the light and turned your head to glance over your shoulder.

Jungkook was staring at you from the bed. Big eyes wide. Jaw slack. Black hair messy and all over his sweaty forehead. Naked and oh-so-very hot and perfectly enthralled by you while also being head-to-toe trouble for you, specifically.

Yes, you thought, I’ll keep him.

You smiled with a different kind of genuine pleasure and stepped into the bathroom, hearing the hotel bed fly into disarray as he chased after you.

drabbles masterpost | masterpost

#bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut

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fyiin7 · 2 days

Text

I just wanna be the girl you like!

⋆˚✿˖° Geto Suguru loves bullying and humiliating you, making your college life hell. But he doesn't know, that you secretly likes it.

⋆˚✿˖° Pairings: Bully! Suguru x Fem! Reader

⋆˚✿˖°Tags: Smut with plot, slight angst, doggy style, spanking, masochist, rough sex, masturbation (in front of Suguru :0), spitting in mouth, choking, hair pulling, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking

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You step onto the campus grounds, the early morning sun casting long shadows across the bustling courtyard. With a deep breath, you clutch your bag a little tighter, bracing yourself for what you know is coming. It’s become routine by now—college life should be a fresh start, but for you, it's an ongoing battle. And that battle has a name: Suguru Geto.

You spot him almost immediately, leaning casually against a lamppost with his friends, his dark hair falling lazily across his forehead. He’s smirking, as usual, already exuding an air of authority. His gaze sweeps across the courtyard until it lands on you. Your heart skips a beat despite yourself, and you can feel the familiar rush of adrenaline and nerves.

As Suguru pushes off the lamppost and starts walking in your direction, his friends snicker, already anticipating the show.

“There you are, loser,” he calls out, loud enough for those around you to hear. His voice is casual, as though this were just another day of teasing, another moment of him singling you out.

You swallow hard, the butterflies in your stomach doing somersaults as he approaches. Your cheeks burn, not from embarrassment, but from the strange thrill of seeing him up close. There’s something about the way he moves, the confidence in his step that has you unable to look away—even though you know what's coming.

Suguru stops just in front of you, towering over you with that trademark smirk. “Didn’t think you’d make it today. Thought you finally got smart and dropped out.”

His words are sharp, cutting through the air, but they don’t sting like they should. Instead, your heart pounds in your chest, betraying how much you crave his attention, even if it’s through insults.

“I—I’m here,” you manage to mumble, trying to keep your voice steady. You lower your gaze, hoping he doesn’t notice how flustered you are.

“Of course you are,” he scoffs, stepping even closer. You feel the tip of his shoe nudge yours, a clear power play. “How could you stay away, huh? Always following me around like a lost puppy.”

His friends laugh, and you know you should feel humiliated. But instead, all you can focus on is how close he is, how his scent—a mix of cologne and something uniquely Suguru—fills the air between you. If only he knew how much you looked forward to these moments.

Suguru’s hand reaches out, flicking the strap of your bag just enough to make you lose grip, and it tumbles to the ground. “Oops,” he says with mock innocence. “You’re so clumsy. Can’t even hold onto your stuff.”

As you bend down to pick it up, you hear him chuckle under his breath. Normally, being treated like this would have anyone seething with anger or sadness. But not you. In some twisted way, this is the only interaction you get with him, and it’s enough. Your secret crush on him is a guilty pleasure, one you know you shouldn’t have, but can’t shake off.

As you rise, your eyes meet his, and for a brief second, you wonder if he sees it—if he can sense that you’re not like the others. That you don’t mind. That, in a way, you look forward to these encounters.

But then the smirk returns, and he turns to leave. “See you around, loser,” he throws over his shoulder, his friends following behind him. You watch him go, your heart still racing.

Even though you’ve just been humiliated, part of you can’t wait for the next time.

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You were sitting in the corner of the campus café, absentmindedly stirring your coffee as the hum of student chatter filled the air. It was supposed to be a quick break before your next class, but then you heard a familiar voice.

Suguru.

Your heart skipped a beat as you saw him sitting at a nearby table with his friends. You hadn’t planned on paying attention, but when you caught the topic of their conversation, your curiosity spiked.

“So, Suguru,” one of his friends said with a teasing grin, “you gotta tell us. What’s your type? You’re always brushing girls off like they don’t exist.”

You felt your ears perk up, and instinctively, you shifted in your seat, trying to make it look like you were still minding your own business. But your attention was laser-focused now, every fiber of your being tuned into what Suguru might say next.

“Yeah, come on, man,” another friend chimed in. “There’s gotta be someone who catches your eye. Or are you just too good for everyone?”

Suguru leaned back in his chair, that ever-present smirk tugging at his lips. He seemed unfazed by the question, his eyes lazily scanning the room as though thinking it over. You couldn’t help but bite your lip, anticipation gnawing at you. What if you fit his type? What if you didn’t?

Finally, Suguru spoke, his tone casual. “I guess I like a girl who’s not too easy to figure out.”

Your heart sped up. Not easy to figure out? What did that mean?

His friend raised an eyebrow. “That’s vague, man. You gotta give us more than that.”

Suguru chuckled softly. “I mean, someone who’s not all over me, you know? Confident but not in my face about it. Someone who’s got her own thing going on.”

You subtly grabbed your phone, opening a blank note and typing down his words as discreetly as possible. Confident…has her own thing going on…not too easy to figure out…

Suguru’s eyes glinted as he continued, leaning forward slightly. “She’s gotta be tough, but not loud about it. I don’t need someone who constantly tries to get my attention. I’ll notice her when she’s just doing her thing.”

Your fingers hovered over the screen, digesting his words. Tough but not loud. Someone who doesn’t need to try too hard. You wondered if you could be that kind of person. You certainly never tried to get his attention on purpose—but then again, was that what kept him bullying you?

His friend laughed, shaking his head. “So, basically a girl who can handle your attitude, huh?”

Suguru shrugged, smirking. “Something like that. And maybe someone who can surprise me.”

Surprise him? You furrowed your brow. That was a tricky one. What would surprise someone like Suguru, who always seemed so unfazed by everything?

The conversation drifted after that, but you were already lost in thought, replaying his words over and over. You couldn’t help but wonder—could you be that girl? Could you show Suguru that you had more to offer than what he saw when he teased you? Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to catch his attention without changing too much of who you were.

You glanced back at him, his confident posture and careless expression still making your heart race. One thing was certain: you were going to try.

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The next morning, you woke up before the sun had even fully risen, your heart already racing with a mixture of excitement and nerves. Today was different. Today, you had a plan.

You tiptoed into your sister's room, gently nudging her awake. She groaned, rubbing her eyes as she propped herself up. "Why are you waking me up this early?" she mumbled, still half-asleep.

You smiled, trying to sound casual. “I just thought… maybe you could help me with some makeup? You know, just for fun. I kinda want to look pretty today.”

Your sister raised an eyebrow, still a little groggy but clearly surprised. “Since when do you care about makeup?”

You shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “I dunno. Just felt like changing things up.”

After some teasing and half-hearted grumbling, she eventually agreed. You sat in front of her vanity, letting her work her magic. As the brush swept across your cheeks and the eyeliner flicked along your lashes, you couldn’t help but glance at yourself in the mirror. It was subtle, but enough to make you feel… different. Maybe even confident.

By the time she finished, you barely recognized yourself. You looked put-together, polished, like someone who could easily fit into Suguru’s idea of a girl who “had her own thing going on.”

Your sister stood back, admiring her work. “There. You look amazing. Who’s this for, anyway? Anyone special?”

You shook your head quickly, laughing nervously. “No, no one. I just wanted to do it for myself.”

She gave you a knowing look, but didn’t press further. “Well, whoever it’s for, they’re gonna notice you.”

That’s what you hoped for, too.

Arriving on campus, you felt a little more self-conscious than usual. Every time someone’s gaze lingered a little too long, you wondered if they noticed the makeup, if you looked different from your usual self. Your heart pounded as you scanned the courtyard for Suguru, anticipation swirling in your stomach.

Then, you saw him—leaning against the same lamppost as yesterday, his familiar group of friends surrounding him. You took a deep breath, squaring your shoulders and walking in their direction, hoping that maybe today he’d see you in a new light.

But as soon as you came into view, his eyes found yours. A flicker of something—was it surprise?—crossed his face before it quickly turned back into his usual smirk.

“Well, well, look who it is,” Suguru said, pushing off the lamppost as he strolled toward you. His friends snickered behind him, already sensing something was coming. “You trying out a new look today?”

Your throat tightened, nerves buzzing under your skin. You nodded slightly, not trusting your voice. Maybe—just maybe—he’d say something nice. Maybe he’d notice the effort you’d put in, even if he didn’t say it outright.

Suguru stopped in front of you, his eyes scanning your face with an expression you couldn’t quite read. For a second, hope bubbled in your chest.

Then he laughed. Loud, sharp, and cruel.

“What’s this? You think a little makeup is gonna change who you are?” He stepped closer, his voice dripping with condescension. “You look pathetic.”

The word hit you like a punch to the gut. You blinked, feeling your face heat up—not from the flustered crush you were used to, but from the sting of his words.

“I mean, come on,” he continued, still smirking. “Who are you trying to impress? Me? That’s just sad.”

You couldn’t move. Every word felt like it was tearing through the fragile confidence you’d built up that morning. His friends laughed along with him, their voices a distant echo as you stood frozen, your heart sinking.

Suguru tilted his head, as if waiting for a reaction, but all you could do was stand there, cheeks burning, your gaze fixed on the ground. You had hoped—no, expected—something different. But now, you just felt… humiliated.

With a final scoff, Suguru turned away, his interest in you fading as quickly as it had come. “Better luck next time, loser."

As he walked off, you stayed rooted in place, trying to keep the tears from welling up. You had tried so hard to get his attention, but now, you weren’t sure it had been worth it at all.

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You barely made it to the bathroom before the tears started spilling over. The second the door closed behind you, you rushed into one of the stalls, slamming the lock shut. The cool metal felt grounding under your fingertips as you pressed your back against the door, sliding down until you were sitting on the floor.

The floodgates opened, and you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your chest ached, the humiliation twisting and knotting inside you. Hot tears streamed down your face, your vision blurring as you buried your head in your hands.

Your makeup. The hours spent preparing, the hopeful glances in the mirror that morning—it was all for nothing.

You felt the sting of your eyeliner and mascara mixing with the tears, smudging and running down your cheeks. You wiped at your face furiously, only to make it worse. Black streaks stained your fingers as your sobs grew louder, echoing in the empty bathroom.

Why had you thought this would work? Why had you convinced yourself that Suguru would see you differently, even for a second? He had laughed in your face, torn down every bit of hope you had built up.

Pathetic. The word echoed in your mind, replaying over and over.

You weren’t tough. You weren’t confident. You were just the same person he bullied every day, and no amount of makeup or effort could change that.

A sharp sob escaped your throat, and you pressed your hand against your mouth to muffle the sound. You hated how vulnerable you felt—alone, broken down by the person you secretly admired.

You sniffled, feeling the wetness on your cheeks, smearing the once-pristine makeup your sister had applied with care. There was no use trying to fix it now. Everything was ruined.

As the tears slowed and the sobs quieted, the rawness in your chest remained. You didn’t know how long you’d been sitting there, but the cold bathroom stall felt like a strange refuge, a place where you could fall apart without anyone seeing.

Maybe you should just give up liking your own bully.

After that day, you made a decision—you weren’t going to waste any more time on Suguru. It wasn’t easy to let go of feelings that had been festering for so long, but his cruel laughter and the sting of his words were more than enough to finally shake you awake.

Since then, you’d managed to avoid him. You memorized his usual routes around campus, always taking another hallway or exiting through a different door. Even if you caught a glimpse of him from a distance, you turned your head or ducked into the nearest building. For days, you managed to keep out of his line of sight, and for the first time, it felt like you had a sliver of control.

No more Suguru Geto. No more being his punching bag.

But on one particular afternoon, just as classes had ended and you were gathering your things, you felt a sharp tug on your arm. Startled, you barely had time to react before you were yanked backward, stumbling as someone pulled you out of the crowd. Your heart jumped into your throat when you saw who it was.

Suguru.

Without a word, he dragged you down the hallway, his grip tight and unyielding, his expression unreadable. You tried to pull away, panic rising in your chest, but his hold on you only tightened.

"Suguru, what the fuck are you—" you started, but he cut you off with a harsh glare, his jaw clenched, clearly not in the mood for explanations.

He pulled you into one of the campus’s old, rarely used classrooms. The door slammed shut behind you as he shoved you inside, trapping you in the space with him. The classroom was dusty and forgotten, with old desks piled up and dim light filtering through dirty windows. It felt claustrophobic, and your heart pounded as you turned to face him.

Suguru looked furious. His usually calm, smirking demeanor was gone, replaced by something colder, sharper. His eyes bore into yours with a strange intensity, his fists clenched at his sides.

"Why the hell have you been avoiding me?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

You blinked, caught off guard. Of all the things you’d expected, this confrontation was not one of them. "What—what do you mean?"

“You know exactly what I mean," he snapped, stepping closer. "Don’t play dumb."

His anger was palpable, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. "I—I just... I needed space. You made it pretty clear how you feel about me."

Suguru’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, he seemed taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

You clenched your fists, suddenly finding the courage to say what had been boiling inside you since that day. "You called me pathetic, Suguru! You humiliated me in front of everyone, laughed in my face! What more is there to say?"

For a brief second, his expression faltered, but it quickly hardened again. "That’s no reason to just disappear."

You stared at him, disbelief washing over you. “Why does it even matter to you? I thought you didn’t care.”

Suguru’s gaze darkened, his frustration evident. "It matters," he said through gritted teeth, though his voice was quieter now, almost as if he didn’t want to admit it. "And I don’t like being ignored."

Your heart pounded in your chest as Suguru’s words sank in. The sheer audacity of his anger—his claim that you had no right to avoid him—boiled something deep within you. For days, you had dealt with the sting of humiliation, replaying his cruel laughter over and over in your head. And now, here he was, angry because you had taken control, because you had the nerve to walk away?

Suddenly, something snapped inside you. Without thinking, you swung your hand, and the sharp sound of your palm connecting with his cheek echoed through the room.

Suguru’s head snapped to the side from the force of the slap, and for a moment, everything was still. You stood there, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your hand trembling from the adrenaline. It was the first time you had ever fought back against him.

But that moment of silence didn’t last.

In an instant, Suguru’s rage flared. His eyes darkened, and before you could even blink, his hand shot out, gripping you roughly by the hair. You gasped as the sharp pain radiated through your scalp, your head forced back to meet his furious gaze.

"You really shouldn’t have done that," he growled.

Your heart hammered in your chest, but despite the fear coursing through you, a flicker of defiance still burned. You glared back at him, refusing to let him see you cower.

Suguru’s grip tightened, and he leaned in, his breath hot against your face as his voice dropped to a venomous whisper. "You think you’re brave now? Pathetic," he spat. "You’ve always been pathetic. And what’s worse is that you actually thought putting on some makeup and acting like someone else would change anything. Like I wouldn’t notice."

His words cut deep, but you couldn’t move, couldn’t escape the hold he had on you. His hand tugged harder at your hair, and you winced, biting your lip to keep from crying out.

"You think I didn’t know?" he continued, his sneer twisting into something crueler. "It’s obvious you’ve had a crush on me this whole time. You practically throw yourself at me every time I walk by. It’s pathetic how you thought you could hide it."

Your stomach dropped. The blood drained from your face as the reality of his words hit you. He had known all along. Every glance, every small interaction you’d thought was hidden… he had seen it. And worse, he had mocked you for it.

"Is that why you’re always following me around, huh?" Suguru’s voice was laced with contempt. "Thinking you’d have a chance? You’re delusional."

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

Your heart pounded in your chest as Suguru's grip on your hair tightened, his eyes burning with a dark intensity. The sharp sting against your scalp made your breath hitch, but it wasn’t just the pain that had you reeling—it was the look in his eyes, the way his lips curled into that familiar smirk, but now, there was something more dangerous behind it.

"You really like me, huh?" he sneered, his voice low, almost a purr. His face was so close now that you could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension crackling between you like electricity. "All this time… trying to get my attention."

Your heart thudded painfully, but before you could muster a response, his smirk deepened. His thumb brushed against your cheek, rough but deliberate. "If you like me that much, you need to prove it. Show me how much you really do."

Before you could even process his words, Suguru’s lips crashed against yours. The kiss was rough, almost punishing, as he claimed your mouth with an intensity that left you breathless. There was no softness, no hesitation—it was fierce, filled with the pent-up tension that had been building between you two for so long.

You froze for a moment, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of sensation, but then his hand gripped the back of your neck, pulling you closer. Your body responded instinctively, melting into the kiss despite the chaos in your mind. His touch, rough yet possessive, sent a shiver down your spine.

Suguru’s lips moved against yours with a desperate hunger, as if he had been holding back for far too long. And even though his actions were far from gentle, there was something undeniable in the way he kissed you—as if he was proving something, too.

When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, your chest rising and falling as you struggled to catch your breath. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and unreadable, and the ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips.

"You wanted my attention," he said, his voice low and dripping with arrogance. "Well, now you have it."

"Get on your knees," he said, his voice firm as he pushed you down. "I want to see those pretty lips wrapped around my cock."

He towers over you, slowly undoing his pants. His cock springs free, already hard and ready. "Come on, baby," he coaxed, his voice laced with desire, "Show me what you've got." He grabbed your hair again, guiding your head towards his cock, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

You can feel your pussy clenching, body begging for his cock. Your tongue darts out, licking the tip of his cock, the taste of his pre-cum making your mouth water.

Your lips part, and you feels your body betray you as you take the head of Suguru’s cock into your mouth, tongue swirling around the tip, savoring the taste.

Suguru let out a guttural moan as your tongue flicked against the tip of his cock, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through him. His grip on your hair tightened, his fingers threading through your strands as he watched you take him in.

"Fuck, baby, that's it," he praised, his hips bucking slightly, as if trying to push deeper into your mouth. "Keep going, let's see how far you can take me." He could feel the heat of your mouth, the wetness of your tongue, and he knew he wouldn't last long.

He wanted to fuck you, to claim you in every way possible. "Now, I want you to take it all, deepthroat my cock, baby," he commanded, his voice gruff and demanding. He wanted to see how much you could handle, how much you'd submit to his will. "Show me how much you want my cock inside you."

You swallow your saliva, before you slowly took him in deeper, hollowing your cheeks. He groaned, the sound deep and primal as he felt you take him deeper. But it wasn't enough, not nearly enough. He needed more, needed to control this, needed to make you submit to him completely.

"Fuck, baby, that's not gonna cut it," he growled, his grip on your hair tightening even more. He started to thrust his hips, fucking your mouth with abandon, his cock sliding in and out, deeper and harder each time.

"Take it, baby," he commanded, his voice harsh and demanding. "Take my cock, all of it. Show me how much you want it." He could feel you gagging, feel your body struggling to take him in, and it only spurred him on more. He wanted to see you choke on his cock, wanted to see you completely at his mercy.

Your eyes are started to get watery, you are out of breath. "Mmf..!" your voice muffled. Your hand tap his thighs, signaling that you really need your oxygen.

The sight of you submitting to him like this only made him harder, his cock twitching in your mouth. He could see the water in your eyes, but he didn't let up.

He wanted to dominate you, to show you who was in control. He pulled your head back, slamming his cock into your mouth, face-fucking you mercilessly. "That's it, take it, you little bitch," he growled, his hips moving in a frenzied rhythm. "I want to see you gag on my cock."

He didn't care about your need for oxygen, only driven by his desires. He could feel your throat muscles clenching around his cock, the sensation making him even more aroused. "Fuck, you're loving this, aren't you?" he snarled, his grip on your hair never loosening.

He continued to face-fuck you, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth, the sound of wet slapping filling the room. A cruel smile spread across his face as he pulled out slightly, allowing you to gasp for air. Suguru’s hand land on your left cheek, his slap a stinging pain. But for some reason, you love it.

"H-hah..t-that's enough..please.." you begged, already breathless.

Suguru released you and watched as you tried to catch your breath, the sight of you gagging and struggling turning him on even more. "Alright, baby, you've earned a break," he lied, his smirk returning.

He pulled you up, standing you in front of a table in the corner of the room. "Bend over," he commanded, his voice firm. You hesitated, but he didn't give you the chance to refuse. He grabbed your hips, turning you around and pushing you down onto the table.

"Keep your legs spread and your arms on the table," he ordered, his hand already hovering over your ass. "Now, count, starting from one."

Suguru brought his hand down hard on your ass, making you yelp in surprise. "One," you said, voice shaky. He spanked you again, this time harder, making you cry out. "T-two!"

He continued to spank you, his hand connecting with your ass with a loud smack each time. "Three, f-four..ah! Five.."

You could feel the sting on your ass, the heat building with each spank as you counted until.. "N-nine..ten," you said, and his hand pausing for a moment. "Now, I want you to spread your legs wider and touch yourself, baby," he commanded, his voice a cruel mix of desire and control.

"W-what?" You hesitated. but he tightened his grip on your hair, pulling it enough to make you whimper. "Do it, slut," he growled, the use of the name making you wetter.

You obeyed, spreading your legs as wide as you could, your fingers finding your wetness. "Good girl," he praised, his hand sliding down your back to cup your ass, squeezing it gently. "Now, play with yourself while I watch."

Leaning against the table, Suguru’s eyes locked on your fingers as they moved to rub yourself through your cotton panties. The sight of you touching yourself, the sound of your whimpers, drives him insane.

He stepped forward, his cock harder than ever, and ripped off your panties. "Enough playing, baby," he growled, his hands gripping your hips.

He positioned himself at your entrance, his cock pressing against you, teasing you. "I'm going to fuck you now, and I'm going to fuck you hard," he warned, his voice laced with promise and threat.

Without waiting for your response, Suguru thrust into you, his cock filling you completely. "H-hngh..!!" you let out a loud moan as he began to move inside you. He pulled your hair back, his grip tight, and started to fuck you with a rough, animalistic fervor.

Suguru slammed into you, his hips moving in a brutal rhythm, your body bouncing on the table. His other hand came around, gripping your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp for air. "Fuck, you feel so good. Too good for a loser," he growled, his thrusts growing harder, more desperate while his hand moves to pinch both of your nipple, making you yelp in surprised.

"Open your mouth," he demand. Suguru, in the heat of the moment, decided to spit into your mouth. He pulled your head back, your lips meeting his in a rough, sloppy kiss. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, mingling with his saliva.

The act only seemed to fuel his lust further. He let go of your throat, his hand sliding down to your ass, gripping it tightly. "You like that, don't you, hm?" he growled, his voice deep and possessive. "You like being treated like this?" Your pussy clenches tightly at his treatment, you feel your mind going numb, dumb, in a haze.

He started to spank you again, his hand connecting with your ass with a loud smack. The sound echoed through the cabin, the sting of the spank making you cry out. "Tell me you like it," he demanded, his thrusts becoming more erratic.

"O-oh fuck..yes..I love it-!" you moaned, eyes rolling back. "P-please..I'm gonna cum-!" you moaned, almost a scream.

Suguru leaned down, his lips pressing against your ear. "Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock," he commanded, his voice raw and needy as he rubs your clit with his thumb in a tight circle. He felt your body tense, your walls clenching around him, and that was all it took.

With a loud groan, he let go, his seed filling you as he continued to thrust. He held you close, his grip tight as he rode out the waves of pleasure. "Fuck, baby, take it all in," he whispered, his voice heavy with lust and possession.

Suguru pulled out of you, his cock glistening with your juices and his cum. He let out a low whistle, looking at your fucked up state. He didn't miss a chance to took his phone out, taking a picture of you before he wore his pants back.

“Well,” he said, his tone teasing, almost indifferent. “I’d say that’s more than enough for you to remember me by. Consider it a gift for all that hopeless admiration of yours.” He chuckled softly, the sound cold and dismissive, making your chest tighten.

You sat there, still catching your breath, your body weak from everything that had just happened, but his words stung. You had just shared something so intimate, something that had felt so intense in the moment, but to him… it seemed like it was nothing. Just a way to toy with you.

Suguru turned away, adjusting his shirt like this was just another moment in his day. “Don’t go thinking this means anything more,” he added, his voice casual as he headed toward the door. “This was just… for fun. And now it’s over.”

You swallowed hard, feeling a painful lump form in your throat as you watched him. Part of you wanted to shout at him, to ask why he had done this, why he had kissed you and touched you like that if it meant nothing. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you watched as he reached for the door, pausing for just a second before looking over his shoulder, his gaze sharp.

“Take care, yeah? I’ve got better things to do.” And with that, Suguru stepped out of the classroom, leaving you alone in the dim, quiet space.

For a long moment, you didn’t move. Your mind was spinning, your emotions tangled in a confusing mess of anger, hurt, and… something else. You knew you should hate him for how he treated you, for the way he had used your feelings against you, but as you sat there, your body still tingling from his touch, a realization crept in.

Despite everything, despite his cruelty and the way he had just dismissed you—you couldn’t stop yourself from falling for him all over again. The way he looked at you, the way his touch had made you feel alive, like you were the only person in the world for just that moment… it had reignited something in you.

You pressed your hand to your chest, feeling your heart pound. How could someone who hurt you so deeply also make you feel so intensely?

Even after everything, you couldn’t deny it. You were still hopelessly in love with Suguru Geto.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡

#jjk x reader smut #jjk smut #jjk #geto suguru #jjk suguru #geto x reader #jjk geto #jujutsu geto #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen

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lila-lou · 2 days

Text

✨His true fate - Part 22/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only!, SMUTTTT, Language, age gap, fluff

Word Count: 7322

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

You bit your lip, glancing down at Jensen, who was still seated in his chair, absentmindedly rolling his fingertips around as if lost in thought. His brow furrowed slightly, and you could see the traces of tension that lingered in his features despite the banter with Misha and Jared. There was something about the way he sat there, quiet and contemplative, that tugged at your heart.

You ached to be alone with him, to feel his arms around you and to kiss him in the way you could only do behind closed doors. It wasn’t something you could do in public—not with his friends so close by and the attention that always came with being around them. You understood that there were boundaries when it came to his world, boundaries you respected, but that didn’t make the longing any less.

You knew, though, that there were still many weeks ahead of you—weeks where you and Jensen could simply be together, away from the eyes of the public, away from the teasing remarks and the protective glances. There would be quiet mornings, late-night talks, and moments when it was just the two of you. That knowledge grounded you, helped you push aside the urge to retreat somewhere private with him right now.

Jensen must have felt you looking at him because his eyes slowly lifted to meet yours. The softness there—so different from the playful teasing just a few moments ago—said everything. He gave you a small, knowing smile, his hand reaching up to gently squeeze your fingers where they rested on his shoulder. His touch was reassuring, and you knew he felt it too—the desire to be alone, but also the patience that came with the understanding of your current situation.

You smiled back at him, trying to convey through that look how much you understood. He squeezed your hand one more time before slowly standing, his arm instinctively wrapping around your waist once more.

"Alright", Jensen said, his voice steady but warm, pulling himself back into the moment. "Let's go get those drinks".

Jared grinned, clapping Jensen on the back. “That’s the spirit!”.

Misha smirked, leaning toward you both. “And maybe we can find a place with a dimly lit corner where Jensen won’t feel so uptight about showing some PDA”, he teased.

Jensen rolled his eyes good-naturedly but couldn’t hide the grin tugging at his lips. “Don’t push your luck, Misha”.

The four of you headed out of the room, the tension from earlier almost forgotten as the night awaited. And while you couldn’t indulge in everything you wanted to right now, you knew that those moments with Jensen—when it was just the two of you—would come soon enough. For now, you were content with the warmth of his arm around you and the promise of what lay ahead.

A few hours and a few drinks later, the four of you found yourselves tucked away in the back corner of a dimly lit bar. The atmosphere was warm, loud enough to provide privacy but not so noisy that you couldn’t hear each other. The low lighting gave the booth a cozy, intimate feeling, even amid the bar’s hum of activity. Drinks in hand, you all relaxed into the easy rhythm of conversation, the earlier tensions long forgotten.

Misha, ever the instigator, swirled his drink and leaned back against the booth, his eyes still wide with disbelief. “I just can’t believe no one knew about this whole… arrangement”, he said, looking pointedly at Jensen, shaking his head. “You and Danneel have been doing this for how long? And not one person in our circle knew?”.

Jensen sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, his usual sign of discomfort when the topic veered into tricky territory. “Yeah, well, we kept it under wraps”, he said simply, his voice steady but cautious. “It wasn’t anyone’s business, you know?”.

Jared raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “Wait, so all this time, while the rest of the world thought you two were the picture-perfect couple, you were…?”.

Jensen shrugged, taking a sip of his drink before continuing. “Like I said, we had an understanding. It wasn’t… what people thought it was. It worked for us. For a while”.

Misha shook his head again, clearly still processing. “So, you could just… do whatever you wanted as long as it was behind closed doors?”, he asked incredulously, his voice lowering slightly as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing.

Jensen chuckled lightly, more out of discomfort than humor. “Pretty much”, he admitted.

Misha leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. “So… does Danneel know about her?”, he asked, nodding toward you with an inquisitive raise of his eyebrow.

Jensen paused, his fingers toying with the edge of his glass as he considered how to answer. He hesitated for a moment longer before mumbling, “Partly”.

You furrowed your brow at that, shifting slightly in your seat as you looked at him. You weren’t aware there had been any partial knowledge, or what that even meant in this situation. Jensen glanced at you, reading the curiosity and mild confusion in your expression.

“She knows there’s someone”, Jensen began, his voice a bit quieter now, a touch of strain beneath the casual tone. “It’s not just the same kind of… casual arrangement we’ve both had before. This is different, and she knows that much. She knows it’s not just me fooling around”.

Misha’s eyebrows shot up, his mouth opening in a knowing “ah”. He took a long sip of his drink before saying, “And that’s what’s bothering her, huh?”.

Jensen nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to the table as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass. “Yeah, it bothers her. She always knew we were both seeing other people—it’s part of the deal—but the idea that I might actually be serious about someone… well, that’s something different for her”.

You felt a pang of realization hit you. While you knew that Jensen and Danneel’s relationship had been unconventional for a while now, you hadn’t really thought about how it might impact her to know that what he had with you was serious. It added a new layer to everything, one that was more complicated than you had anticipated.

Jared, sensing the shift in the conversation, leaned forward, his tone more thoughtful now. “So… she’s okay with the arrangement as long as it’s just casual, but now that she knows it’s not, things are getting messy?”.

Jensen nodded, letting out a small sigh. “Yeah. That pretty much sums it up”.

Misha shook his head, leaning back in his seat. “Man, that’s gotta be tough. I mean, for both of you. Knowing it’s more than just a fling changes the whole dynamic”.

Jensen’s eyes flickered over to you again, his gaze softening as he reached for your hand under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Jensen took a deep breath, his fingers tightening around your hand as if drawing strength from the connection. He hesitated for a moment, clearly weighing his next words before finally speaking, his voice low and filled with a weight that hadn’t been there earlier in the conversation.

“Yesterday, before I flew out here”, Jensen began, his eyes fixed on the table, avoiding everyone’s gaze for a moment. “I told Danneel that I wanted to end things… for good. Divorce”. He let out a small, bitter chuckle, shaking his head as he continued. “And… well, she didn’t take it well”.

There was a heavy silence at the table, everyone processing the gravity of what Jensen had just admitted. You could feel his tension radiating through his grip on your hand, and you shifted slightly closer to him, offering him as much comfort as you could.

Misha, always direct and curious despite the sensitivity of the subject, leaned even more forward, his voice gentler than usual. “What did she say?”, he asked, concern and a bit of hesitancy in his tone. It was clear that even Misha, usually the joker, understood the seriousness of the situation.

Jensen sighed deeply and shook his head slightly before speaking, his voice low and tinged with frustration. “She said a lot of things”, he began. “Mostly about how I was ruining everything—her life, our family, the image we’ve built together. She said I was making the biggest mistake of my life and that I’d regret it”.

He paused for a moment, swallowing hard, clearly still processing the confrontation himself. “She was angry, of course. She felt blindsided, even though we’ve been living separate lives for a while now. But the thing that really stuck with me… she didn’t talk about us or about love or anything like that. It was all about what she stood to lose”.

Jensen let out a bitter laugh. “I think that’s when it hit me—when I realized that this wasn’t about our relationship anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time. It’s about the lifestyle, the reputation…”.

Jensen exhaled deeply, as if trying to physically push away the weight of the conversation. His grip on your hand softened slightly, and he forced a small smile, his expression shifting from the earlier tension. He looked at you, then back at Misha and Jared, and gave a dismissive shrug.

"But, you know…", he mumbled, his voice lighter now, trying to brush it off. "I’ve made up my mind. I’m filing for divorce. It’s just a matter of time now. She can say what she wants, but I’m done living that way".

He ran his fingers through his hair, and for the first time in the conversation, there was a small glint of determination in his eyes, mixed with something else—maybe relief. "So now… I’m here. I’m here to have a good time, especially with you", he said, turning his full attention to you, a real smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You smiled back at him, grateful for the shift in energy. You could see the relief in his eyes as he allowed himself to focus on the present moment, on being with you and his friends, rather than the complications waiting for him back home.

Misha caught the change in tone immediately and leaned back with a grin. “That’s what I like to hear”, he said, raising his glass once again. “To a good time, then. No more heavy stuff tonight”.

Jared followed suit, raising his own glass. “Yeah, man. We’re here, you’re here, and it’s time to relax. Let’s make the most of it”.

Jensen chuckled, the sound lighter and more genuine than it had been all night. He clinked his glass against Misha’s and Jared’s before turning to you, holding your gaze for a beat longer. “Here’s to that”, he said quietly, his voice warm.

The four of you raised your glasses, the earlier weight of the conversation dissolving into the background as the mood lightened. Jensen, now more relaxed, leaned back in his.

Eventually, after a night filled with laughter and drinks, you and Jensen found yourselves back in the bathroom of your hotel room. The atmosphere was calm now, the lingering tension from the evening finally melting away. You stood in front of the mirror, gently wiping away your makeup, wearing nothing but a soft silk robe that hugged your body.

Jensen stepped into the bathroom quietly, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed above his chest. His eyes watched you with a quiet intensity, taking in the sight of you as you focused on your routine. The soft lighting of the bathroom made the scene feel intimate, the quiet hum of the night contrasting with the lively energy you’d both left behind downstairs.

You caught his reflection in the mirror, his gaze soft but filled with that undeniable spark of admiration and something deeper—something more vulnerable than what he usually let others see. You smiled softly, finishing the last of your makeup removal and placing the wipe on the counter.

“You’re staring”, you teased gently, turning to face him, your fingers lightly adjusting the silk robe tied around your waist.

Jensen chuckled softly, his arms still crossed as he shifted his weight against the doorframe. “Can you blame me?”, he asked, his voice low and warm, filled with a mix of affection and something else you couldn’t quite place.

You stepped toward him, the smooth fabric of your robe brushing against your skin with every movement. When you reached him, you placed a hand on his chest, feeling the warmth of his body beneath your palm.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?”, you asked softly, looking up at him with curiosity. You could tell there was more behind his gaze tonight, something deeper lurking beneath the surface.

Jensen uncrossed his arms, one hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your face as he let out a small sigh. “Just… thinking”, he said quietly, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. “About tonight. About everything”.

Jensen’s hand moved gently across your back, his touch sending a warm shiver through you despite the soft tension in the air. His fingers grazed your spine lightly as if grounding himself in the moment with you. You noticed he was still dressed in his clothes from earlier in the day—jeans and a simple t-shirt that had somehow made him look effortlessly put together, even after everything the night had brought.

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at him through your lashes, your voice quiet and teasing. “I don’t know if I like this deep-in-thoughts Jensen”, you mumbled, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you tried to break through some of the lingering heaviness.

Jensen let out a small chuckle, his lips curving into a gentle smile as his thumb continued to trace the line of your jaw. “Yeah?”, he murmured, his voice soft. “Well, this version of me seems to show up more than I’d like lately”.

You placed a hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your fingertips, and you could tell he was still working through everything that had happened tonight—everything he’d been carrying for a while now. But even in the midst of all of that, there was a quiet intensity in the way he was looking at you, as if you were the calm in his storm.

“I think I like the relaxed Jensen better”, you teased, your fingers tracing light patterns over his chest. “The one who smiles more… laughs more”.

Jensen’s smile grew a bit wider, and he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’ll work on that”, he whispered against your skin.

His hand slipped under the loose fabric of your robe, resting on your lower back now, and he pulled you closer. You could feel the heat of his body radiating through his clothes, grounding you as you stood there in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“You know, you help with that”, he admitted, his voice still low but with a warmth that made your heart flutter. “It’s easier to let go of all the other stuff when I’m with you”.

You smiled up at him, your heart swelling at his words. “Good”, you whispered, resting your head against his chest for a moment. “Because I like seeing that side of you”.

Jensen’s arms tightened around you slightly, holding you close as the weight of everything seemed to melt away in the silence. It was just the two of you now, wrapped up in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.

After a few moments, he leaned back just enough to look down at you, his gaze soft but more relaxed now. “Why don’t we change that deep-in-thoughts Jensen into something more fun?”, he suggested, his voice playful now.

You raised an eyebrow, smirking up at him. “Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?”.

Jensen’s grin turned mischievous, and with a swift but gentle movement, he scooped you up into his arms, making you let out a surprised laugh.

Jensen’s grin widened as he carried you effortlessly out of the bathroom and towards the bed. You wrapped your arms around his neck, still giggling from the sudden movement, feeling a surge of warmth spread through your chest. There was something about the way he looked at you now—playful, yet filled with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

As he laid you down gently on the bed, hovering above you, he leaned down and brushed a few soft kisses along your jawline. His breath was warm against your skin, sending a shiver through you.

“You know”, he murmured between kisses, his voice low and teasing, “earlier tonight, you said something about me… neglecting you”. He moved his lips down to your neck, his kisses feather-light and deliberate.

You felt a thrill at his words, biting your lip to suppress the smile threatening to spread across your face. “Mmm, did I now?”, you teased back, your fingers sliding into his hair, pulling him closer.

Jensen pulled back just slightly to meet your eyes, his gaze darkening with playful intensity. “Yeah, you did. You said I didn’t take my time with you. That I was too rough, too fast”, he continued, his fingers gently tracing the edge of your robe, teasing the fabric.

You could feel your heart racing at his words, your breath hitching slightly as he looked down at you with that mix of desire and affection. “Well, you were”, you teased, your voice light but carrying a challenge. “You didn’t exactly take your time earlier…”.

Jensen chuckled softly, shaking his head as he trailed his fingers down your side, leaving a heated path in their wake. “I suppose I owe you an apology then”, he murmured, leaning in closer again. “But maybe I can make it up to you… if you let me”.

You shivered under his touch, your lips parting slightly as you felt the weight of his words. He was close now, his face inches from yours, and you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin.

“I’m listening”, you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, anticipation buzzing between you.

Jensen’s eyes darkened with a mix of desire and mischief as he hovered just above you. His hand slid slowly from your side to your waist, fingers grazing your skin lightly, sending shivers through you. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke, his voice a low, sensual murmur.

“You know”, he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, “I could take my time with you. Make sure every touch, every kiss, is exactly what you need. I want to feel you tremble beneath me, see you lose control”.

His lips traced a line down your neck, his breath warm and teasing. “I want to make you forget everything but how good it feels when I’m inside you”, he continued, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “I want to draw out every moan until you’re begging for more”.

You felt your breath quicken, your body responding to his words with a mix of eagerness and anticipation. His hand slid up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across your lips before leaning in to capture them in a tender kiss. It was a kiss that started slow and deep, building in intensity, just as he promised.

“You like the sound of that?”, he asked, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “I want to make sure you get exactly what you need tonight. Tell me what you want”.

You pulled Jensen closer by his neck, your fingers curling around his strong, warm skin. Your lips found his with a sense of urgency, the kiss deep and hungry as if you were both trying to make up for lost time. Jensen responded instantly, his hands moving to frame your face, his fingers tangling in your hair as he kissed you back with equal fervor.

The world outside seemed to disappear as you lost yourself in the intensity of the moment. The kisses were both tender and demanding, a blend of passion and affection that had your heart racing and your body yearning for more.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured again, his voice low and rough, brushing his lips against yours lightly as he spoke.

“I want you”, you breathed, your hands sliding down to grip his shirt, pulling him closer again. “I want you to show me exactly how you’re going to make it up to me”.

Jensen’s smile widened, a mixture of satisfaction and anticipation lighting up his face. He leaned in, capturing your lips once more, his kisses becoming more insistent and heated. His hands roamed over your body with a renewed sense of purpose.

Jensen’s kisses trailed down your neck again, each touch light and reverent. His fingers delicately traced the edges of your silk robe, gently parting the fabric as he explored the skin beneath. His breath was warm against your collarbone, causing a shiver to run through your body with the gentle contact.

As the robe fell open, Jensen took a moment to look down, his gaze sweeping over your body. Each time he saw you like this, it was as if he was seeing you anew, and his reaction was always the same—a deep, overwhelming admiration mixed with a hint of disbelief at his own fortune. His face softened as he leaned against your collarbone, his lips pressing a tender kiss there.

You pressed his head gently against your skin, guiding him closer as your legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him flush against you. The closeness heightened the electric sensation of his touch, making your heart race faster.

“I need you, Jay”, you whispered, your voice trembling slightly with the depth of your desire. The words were barely audible, but they carried the weight of your need and longing.

Jensen’s breath hitched at your plea, his body responding to the urgency in your voice. He nuzzled against your neck, his hands gripping your hips with a firm, yet tender pressure. “I’m right here”, he murmured. “I’m here”.

His lips traveled from your collarbone to the hollow of your throat, his kisses growing more fervent as he continued to explore you. His hands moved to your back, drawing you closer, as if he were trying to meld himself with you.

“I’m not going anywhere”, he promised, his words mingling with his kisses, his touch both comforting and thrilling. “You have all of me, right here”.

He tilted your head slightly to access your mouth more fully, his kiss deepening, expressing the intense desire he felt for you. Every touch, every kiss was a testament to the connection between you both—a connection that was as passionate as it was profound.

You broke the kiss, your breath coming in soft, uneven bursts as you gazed up at him. With a determined look, you reached for his shirt, your fingers deftly working to undo the buttons. Each movement was filled with a mix of urgency and tenderness, as you sought to remove the barrier between you.

Jensen’s eyes never left yours, his expression a mixture of anticipation and affection. He lifted his arms to assist as you pulled the shirt free from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor beside the bed. The sight of his bare chest made your heart race even more, and you could see the same admiration and desire reflected in his eyes.

He leaned in again, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss, his hands moving to cradle your face. The warmth of his skin against yours intensified the connection between you, making every touch and kiss feel even more significant.

As the kiss deepened, Jensen’s hands roamed over your body, exploring the newfound freedom of skin against skin. His touch was gentle yet assertive, a perfect balance that made every moment feel electric.

You wrapped your legs around his hips tighter, urging him closer, feeling the heat of his body pressed against yours. The intimacy of the moment was palpable, a blend of passion and tenderness that made everything else fade away.

As Jensen’s body pressed against yours, the sensation of his hard erection rubbing against your already heated and wet core sent waves of pleasure through you. His movements were deliberate and teasing, his clothed hardness sliding against your sensitive skin.

“You feel that?”, Jensen murmured, his breath hot against your neck. He shifted his hips slightly, the friction intensifying the delicious pressure. “Can you feel how much I want you?”.

You moaned in response, the sensation making it difficult to form coherent words. Jensen’s lips pressed against your skin, his tongue flicking out to taste you as he continued to move against you. “Use your words”, he urged, his voice low and insistent. “Tell me what you’re feeling”.

The pressure of his body, combined with his teasing movements, made it hard to focus. “It feels… so good”, you managed to gasp out, your hands gripping his shoulders tighter as the pleasure built. “I can feel how much you want me”.

Jensen’s smile was almost predatory as he continued to kiss and suck on your neck, his hips pressing firmly against you. “That’s right”, he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “I want you so badly".

You bit your lip, trying to hold back your moans as his movements became more intense. “I need you”, you finally managed to say, your voice trembling with urgency. “I need you inside me”.

Jensen’s groan vibrated against your neck, echoing the growing need within you both. His hands briefly left your body, and you instantly missed his touch. He sat back, eyes locked on yours as he quickly unbuttoned his jeans.

He returned to you in a heartbeat, his movements even more purposeful now.

Jensen hovered above you, his eyes dark. The heat from his body radiated onto you, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth and anticipation. He gripped himself firmly, his hand moving slowly over his length, preparing himself with a meticulous, deliberate touch that was as much for your arousal as it was for his readiness.

“You see what you do to me?”, he murmured, his voice low and husky. His eyes never left yours, holding your gaze with an intensity that made your heart flutter. Slowly, he aligned himself with you, the tip of his hardness pressing gently against you, teasing the promise of what was to come.

His other hand moved to trace the contour of your face, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. The tenderness of the gesture juxtaposed with the raw, palpable desire in his movements. He leaned down, his lips barely touching yours, breathing you in, his control almost slipping but not quite.

“Tell me if you want more”, he said, his breath a warm whisper against your lips. The restraint in his voice contrasted sharply with the evident need in his body, visible in the way his muscles tensed, ready to claim the intimacy you both craved.

Jensen waited for your affirmation, the air charged with electricity, your shared breaths the only sound in the quiet room. As you nodded, whispering your consent, he gently pushed forward, enveloping himself in the warmth of your welcome.

The moment Jensen began to move, the sensation was intoxicating, each slow, deliberate thrust designed to heighten the sense of union between you. His eyes stayed locked on yours, watching every flicker of pleasure, every slight shift of emotion that crossed your face.

The rhythm he set was unhurried, allowing each sensory detail to be amplified—the slick sound of skin meeting skin, the soft bedding beneath you, the dim light casting shadows that played across Jensen’s focused expression.

His free hand never stilled; it roamed from your face down to your shoulders, tracing the line of your collarbone with a featherlight touch that caused shivers to ripple through your body. His fingers then danced downwards, circling around the delicate skin of your breasts, thumb brushing lightly over a nipple, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips.

“Does this feel good?”, Jensen whispered, his voice a mere breath as he adjusted his angle slightly, hitting a depth that made you moan in response. He took your moan as an affirmation, continuing his exploration, his movements growing incrementally more firm, more assured.

Jensen’s pace gradually built, each thrust becoming more insistent, though never losing the smooth, controlled grace that he had maintained from the beginning. The tension in your body began to coil tightly, pleasure pooling and spiraling with each pass of his body against yours.

Your hands reached up to his shoulders, nails digging slightly into his skin as a wave of intensity washed over you. He responded to the slight pain with a deep groan, his own control beginning to fray at the edges as he felt your body responding so viscerally to his.

“Look at me”, he commanded gently, and you fixed your eyes on his.

As the intensity of your movements grew, Jensen's breath became heavier, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. He leaned closer, his lips just a whisper away from yours, his gaze never leaving your eyes. "Tell me you feel me", he murmured, each word punctuated by a deep, purposeful stroke that sent waves of pleasure coursing through you.

"I feel you", you gasped. "Every inch".

Jensen's smile was both triumphant and hungry. "Good", he replied, his voice thick with arousal. "Because every part of me is yours tonight". His hand slid from your breast down to where your bodies joined, his fingers expertly teasing, heightening the sensation that pulsed through you both.

"You're close, aren't you?", he coaxed, his movements becoming even more targeted, designed to push you over the edge. "Let go for me".

Your response was a moan, high and needy, and it seemed to drive him even more. Jensen’s thrusts quickened, his fingers moved with precision, and his eyes burned into yours, intent on witnessing every moment of your surrender.

"Come for me", Jensen commanded, his voice a seductive growl that vibrated through your core. "Show me how much you need me".

The room spun as you clung to his words, your climax building rapidly. With a few more calculated movements, you felt the dam break, waves of intense pleasure rolling over you in a relentless tide, leaving you breathless and quivering. Jensen followed close behind, his own release overtaking him as he buried his face against your neck, his body tensing, then shuddering with the force of his orgasm.

As you both caught your breath, Jensen’s kisses became softer, more tender, tracing a line along your jaw as he whispered, "Perfect, just like always". His words wrapped around you, just as his arms did, holding you in a gentle.

As Jensen's lips found your neck again, softly sucking at the tender skin, you felt every residual pulse from him—a quiet aftershock of the intensity you'd both shared. Your fingers curled into his hair, tugging gently, encouraging his gentle exploration.

He chuckled softly, the vibration against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. His body still joined with yours, he felt every subtle clench of your body around him, even as he softened.

"You're making it hard to stop", Jensen murmured, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. "Literally", he added with a mischievous grin, feeling a reactive twitch that contradicted his earlier softening.

Your laughter mingled with his, the sound light and full of warmth. "Maybe I don't want you to stop", you whispered back, playful yet sincere, drawing him in for another deep, lingering kiss.

His hips shifting slightly in a slow, teasing motion that suggested the evening was far from over. "Then we won't", Jensen said, his words a promise as his gaze locked onto yours with renewed desire and a hint of challenge. "We'll keep going as long as you can take it".

With a mischievous twinkle in your eye, you arched an eyebrow. “Can you get hard for me again?”, you teased, a smirk playing at your lips, challenging him with a tone laced with both amusement and desire.

Jensen’s eyes darkened as his pride kicked in. He gave a low, confident laugh. “You really want to test me?”, he replied, his voice a mix of amusement and arousal. He shifted again, aligning his body more closely with yours, his expression turning determined.

With a slight thrust, he repositioned himself, his hands roaming to caress the curves of your body, rekindling the fire that had barely simmered down. “Watch me”, he whispered huskily, leaning in to capture your lips in a passionate kiss that spoke volumes of his intent.

His kisses trailed down your neck, each touch lingering longer, more provocatively, as if he were painting an invisible trail with his lips. His hands were equally persuasive, stroking and teasing, building the anticipation between you.

You felt him responding to your provocations, the physical proof of his arousal growing once again. His breath caught slightly as he felt the change, a grin spreading across his face. “Looks like I’m up for the challenge”, Jensen murmured against your skin, a hint of victory in his voice.

He pressed his hips deliberately against yours, his hardness unmistakable as he made his point clear. The firm contact made you moan softly, the sound a mixture of surprise and pleasure that fueled his confidence further.

“I think that proves it”, he teased, his voice low and husky, thrilled by your reaction. He maintained the pressure, moving his hips in a slow, grinding motion that had you gasping, each movement precise and calculated to remind you of his physical capabilities.

“Does that feel good?”, Jensen asked, a rhetorical question wrapped in a growl, as he adjusted his angle to press even more insistently against you.

Your hands clung to his back, nails pressing into his skin as a way to anchor yourself against the wave of sensations he was expertly drawing out of you. “Jensen”, you managed to utter, your voice breathy and laden with desire, urging him on without needing to say much more.

Jensen’s grin grew even more knowing as he heard the breathy urgency in your voice. With deliberate intent, he reached for the headboard of the bed, gripping it tightly as his muscles tensed.

He slowly withdrew from you, each inch of separation heightening the anticipation between you. The moment he pulled back, you felt a pang of longing, an almost unbearable need for his full presence. Jensen seemed to savor the sensation of you clenching around him, your body craving the return of his depth.

Without warning, he thrust back into you, but this time it was with a single, slow, and incredibly deep movement. The depth of his penetration was thorough, stretching you to the limit and causing a gasp to escape your lips as you felt every inch of him inside you. His eyes were fixed on yours, watching the transformation of your pleasure with an intense focus.

The sensation was overwhelming, a potent mix of fullness and the slow burn of pleasure that seemed to stretch every second into an eternity. Jensen’s grip on the headboard was tight, his breathing heavy.

“Feel that?”, he murmured, his voice a low growl, both intimate and commanding.

Jensen’s slow, deep thrusts continued, each movement sending ripples of pleasure through your entire being. The depth of his penetration and the deliberate pace had you gasping and moaning breathlessly, the sensations so intense that you could barely contain them.

With every thrust, you felt him stretch you, each push hitting the very core of your pleasure. The combination of his steady rhythm and the overwhelming fullness made you clench around him, the intensity of the moment causing you to curse softly in a mix of pleasure and frustration.

“Fuck, Jensen”, you breathed out, your voice strained and desperate. Your fingers gripped the sheets tightly, knuckles whitening as you anchored yourself against the relentless waves of sensation he was drawing from you.

He kept his eyes locked on you, taking in every reaction, every shiver of your body as he continued his deliberate pace. “I want to hear you”, he urged, his voice rough with desire. “Let me know how good it feels”.

His command only intensified your moans, each sound a testament to the overwhelming pleasure he was providing. You could feel yourself getting closer to a breaking point, the pressure building with each slow, deep stroke.

Jensen seemed to sense your rising climax, his movements becoming even more controlled and calculated, ensuring that every thrust was exactly what you needed to reach the peak of your desire.

"Let me hear you", Jensen demanded, his tone insistent. "Louder".

His words were a direct challenge, stoking the fire of your arousal. With each deeper, faster thrust, you couldn't help but respond. Your moans grew louder, filling the room, a mix of pleasure and the sheer intensity of the sensations cascading through you.

Jensen's hands moved from the headboard to your hips, gripping them tightly as he adjusted the angle, aiming to deepen his thrusts even further. The new position hit just the right spot, sending sparks of pleasure zipping through your nerves. Your back arched off the bed in response, pushing against him, seeking more.

"That's it", he growled approvingly, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction at your vocal response.

The room echoed with the sound of your combined moans and the rhythmic creaking of the bed. Jensen's control was impeccable, managing to balance on the edge of his own release while focusing entirely on your experience. His every move, every sound, and every touch was designed to bring you both to a powerful climax together.

“Come on”, Jensen urged, his voice low and gritty with desire. “I want to hear you scream for me”.

You could barely manage a coherent response, your voice a breathy, desperate mix of moans and gasps. “Jensen, I’m… so close”, you managed to plead, your body arching in response to each powerful thrust.

“Good”, he growled, his voice rough as he pushed deeper. “Let go for me. Show me how much you need me”.

The pressure in your core built rapidly, each of his movements pushing you closer to the brink. The relentless pace and the intensity of his touch were overwhelming, your climax imminent.

“Tell me how bad you want it”, Jensen demanded, his voice a harsh whisper against your ear.

“I want it so fucking bad”, you cried out, your voice cracking with the force of your release.

With a final, powerful thrust, both of you reached the peak simultaneously. Jensen’s groan was deep and primal, a sound of raw satisfaction as he felt your body convulse around him. Your own climax hit with explosive force, your cries of pleasure mingling with his as you both succumbed to the overwhelming wave of ecstasy.

After the climaxes subsided, Jensen’s breathing gradually slowed, though the intensity of the moment still lingered in the room. He pulled you closer, his touch now gentle and affectionate as he began to catch his breath. His gaze was both amused and satisfied as he looked at you, a playful smirk forming on his lips.

“Funny”, Jensen murmured after a while, his voice low and teasing, “you were complaining about me being too rough earlier”. His fingers lightly traced along your damp skin, a contrast to the roughness you’d experienced moments before.

You looked at him, still catching your breath, your face flushed but smiling. “You were”, you replied, though there was no real annoyance in your tone, just the lingering thrill of pleasure.

Jensen’s smirk widened further. “Yet here you are, coming the hardest when I fuck you exactly like that”, he teased, his voice a warm rumble that seemed to vibrate directly into your heart.

The comment made your cheeks heat up even more, a deep blush spreading across your face. In a playful attempt to hide your embarrassment, you covered your face with both hands.

Jensen’s eyes softened with a mix of adoration and amusement as he watched your cheeks flush deeply. He gently took your hands away from your face, his touch tender despite the teasing nature of his words.

“That’s exactly what I adore about you”, he murmured. “You can be so innocent and still such a dirty little mess at the same time”.

Jensen noticed the subtle changes in your body as you responded to his words—your breath catching, your body tensing slightly. The faint but unmistakable clench around him drew a deeper grin, his eyes darkening with renewed desire.

“Like that, huh?”, he teased, his voice a silky whisper that made the air between you crackle. He shifted slightly, adjusting his position to maintain the delicious pressure that elicited such an honest reaction from you. “You can’t hide how much you love this, can you?”. Jensen’s tone was both cocky and warm, a combination that made his teasing all the more intoxicating.

You could only nod, your breathing heavy, as every word he spoke seemed to resonate through you, deepening your arousal. Jensen’s hands moved from your face, tracing down your neck, over your shoulders, and along the sensitive skin of your sides, his touch light but deliberate, designed to tease and provoke.

He leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath mingling with your own.

"You're something else", Jensen murmured, his lips brushing against yours with each word, barely touching yet sending shivers down your spine. His voice was a blend of wonder and desire, thick with emotion that resonated deeply within you.

His gaze held yours, intense and unyielding, as he paused to study your reaction, seeming to relish the slight quiver of your lips and the quick rise and fall of your chest. His fingers continued their exploration, now sliding down to trace the curve of your waist, coming to rest at the small of your back, pulling you closer into him, erasing any space that remained.

The closeness intensified the connection, the heat between you nearly tangible. Jensen's control was palpable, yet so was the affection and genuine admiration he held for you, making his allure almost magnetic.

"I mean it", he continued. "You captivate me like no other".

The sincerity in his voice, combined with the deliberate movements of his body, stirred a profound response within you. You felt enveloped not just by his physical presence but by the intensity of his emotions. His words, laden with affection and admiration, seemed to echo through you, heightening the intimacy of the moment.

Jensen finally closed the scant distance between your lips, sealing the words with a kiss that was both a promise and a claim—a slow, deep melding of mouths that spoke of shared desire and the unspoken acknowledgment of the bond between you.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Taglist: @cheynovak @chriszgirl92 @jenniferr0323 @angelbabyyy99 @cevansbaby-dove @muhahaha303 @jackles010378 @suckitands33 @n-o-p-e-never @mayafatimakhan @ladysparkles78 @viviandarkbloom06 @jassackles @evasmlp @acklesaddict67 @mostlymarvelgirl @emma1998sblog @mishaesque @headinthemoon87 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @impala67rollingthroughtown @manicjk @kr804573 @zaratahir @djs8891 @winchesterwild78 @jamerlynn @whimsyfinny @libby99hb @deansimpalababy @deans-queen @kawaii-arfid-memes @faephoria @stoneyggirl2 @fitxgrld @luvr4miya @yikeschoices @lyssalvus @soab1967 @luvr4miya @didi0666 @impala67rollingthroughtown @cheekygirl2309

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x you #jensen x reader #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles the boys #jensen x y/n #jensen x you #his true fate

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fushizhuo · 3 days

Text

Happier Than Ever

Y/N, the youngest member of NewJeans, doesn’t seem to fit in. Her groupmates think she’s distant and always trying to outshine them. But during one performance, she steps forward with an unplanned solo, revealing a side of her that no one saw coming. As the truth comes out, everything changes, and Y/N is forced to take a choice she never chose.

Pairing — NewJeans x F! Reader (platonic)

Genre — Angst and a bit of fluff if u squint

Warnings — Mentions of trauma and abuse

WC — 8.6k words

Y/N had always been the outlier in NewJeans. The maknae, the sassy one, the one who never seemed to care. At least, that’s what the others thought. From the moment she joined the group, she was distant, never quite fitting into their easy camaraderie. The way she threw herself into practice, trying to outdo everyone, the sharp remarks, the cold demeanor—it was enough to make them think she was just trying to steal the spotlight.

“She’s so full of herself,” Hyein had muttered one day, rubbing her sore shoulders after another long practice session. “Yeah, I don’t get why she tries so hard,” Danielle added, her tone frustrated.

“It’s like she thinks she has to be perfect all the time.” Haerin hummed. “She probably just wants to be the center of attention,” Minji sighed. “I don’t know. She’s always got this attitude. It’s like she doesn’t care about us.”

What they didn’t know was that Y/N was fighting a battle none of them could see. Her father, a man who had never supported her dream of becoming an idol, was the force behind her relentless drive.

To him, anything less than perfection was a failure. And failure wasn’t an option. “If you don’t stay at the top, you’re done,” he had told her, his voice harsh. “I’ll pull you out of that group and make sure you do something worthwhile. Doctor. Lawyer. Something respectable.”

She had no choice but to push herself harder than anyone else, even if it meant alienating her members. They didn’t understand. They couldn’t.

That night, the arena was packed. Thousands of fans waved their lightsticks, cheering as the stage lights dimmed for the next performance. Backstage, NewJeans were preparing for their set, but Y/N felt a knot in her stomach that wouldn’t go away.

Tonight, she had to break free.

Before the others could ask what was wrong, Y/N stepped forward, holding her microphone tightly. Her heart raced as she looked at Minji, her voice trembling. “I need to sing a solo.”

“What?” Minji frowned, confused. “We don’t have time for that, Y/N. It’s not part of the plan.”

“I'm sorry, but please.” Y/N said quietly, her eyes avoiding theirs. “I have to do this.”

The others exchanged glances, their frustration evident. What was she thinking? They had worked so hard to prepare for tonight’s show, and now Y/N was going off-script? But in the end they agreed. She never begs, nor apologizes. This must be important.

“Fine,” Minji finally said, exasperated. “But this better be quick.”

Y/N nodded and walked toward the stage, her steps heavy. As she stepped into the spotlight, she caught sight of her father sitting in the front row. His face was blank, emotionless, but Y/N knew better. She could feel his judgment, the pressure that had been suffocating her for years.

She grabs her guitar with her, playing the chords softly, and Y/N took a deep breath. This was it.

She was going to let everything out.

"When I’m away from you, I’m happier than ever…"

Her voice was soft at first, almost fragile, but the weight of the words echoed through the arena. The fans quieted, sensing something was different. Backstage, the other members stared in confusion, unsure of what was happening.

"Wish I could explain it better, I wish it wasn’t true…"

Y/N’s voice cracked slightly, but she kept going. The memories of her father’s cruel words, his impossible demands, played over and over in her mind. This wasn’t just a performance anymore—it was her story.

"You called me again, drunk in your benz, driving home under the influence…"

As the next verse flowed out, Minji’s eyes widened in realization. This wasn’t just some random song choice. Y/N was singing about something real. Something painful.

"You scared me to death, but I’m wasting my breath, ‘cause you only listen to your fucking friends…"

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes as she sang. She could feel her father’s cold gaze on her from the audience, and it made her chest tighten. She had spent so long trying to please him, trying to be perfect, but it was never enough.

"I don’t relate to you, I don’t relate to you, no, ‘cause I’d never treat me this shitty, you made me hate this city…"

Haerin gasped softly, finally understanding. Y/N wasn’t some brat trying to outshine them. She was fighting for her life, for her dream. And she had been doing it all alone.

"And I don’t talk shit about you on the internet, never told anyone anything bad, ‘cause that shit's embarrassing, you were my everything, and all that you did was make me fucking sad…"

The pain in Y/N’s voice was raw, unfiltered. Every word cut deeper, every note a release of all the emotions she had buried for years. The fans were in shock, many of them wiping away tears, while backstage, the members watched, hearts breaking.

"So don’t waste the time I don’t have, don’t try to make me feel bad..."

Y/N’s voice grew louder, more intense. The anger she had kept hidden for so long was finally spilling out. She wasn’t just singing for herself—she was fighting for her freedom, for her right to choose her own life.

"I could talk about every time that you showed up on time, but I’d have an empty line, ‘cause you never did…"

Her hands trembled as she gripped the microphone, her voice carrying the weight of years of disappointment. Her father had never been there when she needed him, never supported her when she struggled, and now she was finally telling the world.

"Never paid any mind to my mother or friends, so I shut ‘em all out for you ‘cause I was a kid…"

The lights on stage seemed to dim around her as the final words fell from her lips. The room was silent, the audience stunned, unsure of how to react to the raw honesty they had just witnessed.

Backstage, the other members could only stand in shock, tears streaming down their faces. Y/N had been fighting a battle none of them had seen, a battle they had misunderstood. She wasn’t trying to be better than them. She was trying to survive.

"You ruined everything good, always said you were misunderstood, made all my moments your own..

just fucking leave me alone!"

By the end of the song, Y/N’s voice was shaking, her body trembling from the emotional toll. She stood there, tears rolling down her cheeks, staring out into the darkened crowd, knowing her father was there, watching.

Then, as the final note faded, the silence was broken by slow, hesitant applause. It started with one person, then another, until the entire stadium erupted into cheers. The fans understood. They had felt her pain, and they were with her.

Y/N didn’t move. Her eyes were locked on the figure of her father sitting in the front row. His face was cold, unfeeling, as if her words hadn’t touched him at all. And in that moment, she knew—he would never change. He would never let her be free.

As the rest of NewJeans rushed onto the stage to comfort her, Y/N felt her father’s presence like a dark cloud looming over her. Her members hugged her tightly, whispering apologies, telling her they were there for her now. But Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of dread.

“I’m so sorry,” Minji whispered, holding Y/N’s shaking form. “We didn’t know… We didn’t understand.”

“We should’ve seen it,” Hanni added, her voice thick with guilt. “You didn’t have to go through this alone.”

Y/N’s tears fell faster, but she couldn’t bring herself to respond. Her father’s eyes bored into her from across the stage, and she knew this wasn’t over. It wasn’t up to her anymore.

Suddenly, a figure began moving toward the stage. It was her father, pushing his way through the crowd, his face stone-cold with fury. The members of NewJeans noticed him at the same time, their protectiveness flaring up as they closed in around Y/N.

“What does he want?” Danielle asked, her voice trembling with anger.

Y/N didn’t answer. She couldn’t. She just stood there, frozen in place, as her father reached the edge of the stage and motioned for her to come down. His hand gestured sharply, a silent command.

“Y/N…” Minji started, her voice full of concern.

But Y/N knew she had no choice. She wiped her tears and stepped back from her groupmates, avoiding their eyes as she walked toward the stairs. The crowd’s cheers faded as confusion spread through the arena.

“Where is she going?” Hyein whispered, panic creeping into her voice.

Her father grabbed her arm as soon as she reached him, pulling her away from the stage. The grip was tight, unforgiving. Y/N winced but didn’t fight back. She was too drained, too scared. Her dream was slipping away before her eyes, and there was nothing she could do.

“No,” Minji said firmly, stepping forward. “She doesn’t have to go with you.”

But Y/N’s father shot them a cold glare. “This is none of your business. She’s my daughter. And she’s done with this ridiculous idol nonsense.”

Danielle’s fists clenched in anger. “You can’t do that to her. She’s not your puppet.”

Y/N shook her head slightly, signaling to her members that it was no use. This was her reality. Her father’s control over her life was too strong, and no matter how much they cared for her now, it wasn’t enough to change that.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry…”

Minji, Hanni, Danielle, Hyein and Haerin stood helplessly as Y/N was led away, her figure disappearing into the crowd. The fans, confused and heartbroken, watched as the youngest member of NewJeans was taken from the stage, her future with the group slipping away with every step.

As the doors to the backstage area closed behind her, Y/N felt her father’s control settling over her once again. The dream she had worked so hard for, the friendships she had finally started to build—it was all slipping through her fingers.

She had sung her truth. She had shown the world who she really was.

But it wasn’t enough.

Her father’s voice was low and cold as they left the venue. “That’s it. You’re done with this idol nonsense. Tomorrow, we’ll start making plans for your future. A real future.”

Y/N didn’t respond. She had nothing left to say.

As the car drove away from the arena, leaving the lights and cheers behind, Y/N stared out the window, her heart heavy with the realization that her dream was over.

She was no longer a part of NewJeans.

And in that cold night, she knew she would never be happier than ever again.

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puari-vol · 7 hours

Text

Peer Pressure

CW: Hypnosis

I stood quietly and unobtrusively off in a corner of the ‘slumber party’ trying my best not to bother anyone. Occasionally I glanced over at my friend Kelsey who was talking animatedly with some girls and wondered why she had insisted I come along. Of course I had agreed at the time, it seemed like a good way to make friends. But now that I was here…I couldn’t bring myself to try talking to anyone. I fixed my eyes on the cup of water in my hand. This was all… fine, I was just being Kelsey's designated driver. I was being helpful, like a good friend should be. It didn’t matter if I had fun or not.

I zoned out enough that when Kelsey tapped me on the shoulder I jumped

“Did you really just stand in the corner this whole time? Geez come on you goof its time for the movie!”

She took my arm and dragged me toward the TV. Both couches were full so I ended up sitting cross legged on the ground in front of them. Kelsey was about to sit next to me before she was suddenly pulled away to sit with some other girls, so now I was just sitting next to two strangers. They didn't seem to mind me, but they didn't introduce themselves either.

The lights go off and the movie starts, the chatter dies down as everybody watches. It seemed like there was something wrong with the audio, there was an odd droning sound playing under the movie. But it wasn’t loud enough to be annoying and nobody else seemed to notice so I kept quiet. The movie was honestly kinda boring, I glanced around and accidentally made eye contact with someone doing the same thing. I felt myself blush and turned back to pay attention. The movie kept going and after a while I started to space out. I was so out of it that when something changed it took me a while to notice. The movie wasn’t playing anymore, or maybe…this was part of the movie? The screen just showed a pink and purple spiral spinning around and around. The droning had gotten louder. How long had the spiral been on the screen? I couldn’t remember. I looked to the girl on my right, about to ask if something was wrong with the movie. But she was just staring at the screen, focused. I noticed everyone else was doing much the same. I quickly turned back to the screen, not wanting to embarrass myself. As I watched I tried to remember what had been happening in the movie for this to make sense, the spiral and been going for at least a few minutes now, but the more I tried the more the details of the movie seemed fuzzy and distant. I stared intently at the screen, trying to find out what everyone else was looking at…

I blinked when there was suddenly someone sitting in front of me. I only noticed because she waved her hand in front of my face after she sat down. She was backlit by the spiral on the screen and she smiled at me.

“Hey there” she said softly “First time here?”

I just nodded feeling strangely dizzy.

“Kelsy said she was bringing someone knew, is that you?”

I nodded again, she was gazing intently at me and I started to feel self conscious, I averted my eyes and saw that everyone else was still just staring at the spiral

“Well Kelsy has good taste, you’ll be lovely”

I blush, not expecting the compliment

“Um thanks” I mumble no longer able to meet her eyes. She was grinning at me now

“Are you ready?”

“Uh…for what?”

“To learn about the button that turns off your brain”

I blinked as I tried to sort through the nonsense statement

“The what?”

She giggled and pointed off to my left

“Just watch, you’ll get the idea”

I looked and saw she was pointing at the girls sitting on one of the couches, all of their eyes were glued to the spiral. As I watched, another girl came up behind them. Starting with the girl on the far left, she leaned down and whispered something into her ear. Then reached over and tapped her on the forehead. At once, she went limp. Head lolling forward, eyes closed. She slumped into the girl sitting next to her, who jolted as if suddenly startled awake, eyes blinking rapidly. But the girl behind the couch simply reached over and tapped her on the forehead as well. And suddenly both girls seemed to be fast asleep leaning into each other. The girl behind the couch smiled and gave them both a pat on the head before moving on to the rest of the couch

“You see? All good girls like you have a button that turns off their brain”

I was staring open mouthed at the girls now asleep on the couch

“But…but I’m not-”

“Shhhhh”

I felt a hand on my cheek, and my head was turned to face the girl in front of me again. I was blushing like crazy now and I stammered something incoherent. The girl just smiled kindly

“Don’t worry, you won't be bothered by that kind of stuff soon”

Hand still on my cheek, she turned my head to the right, where I watched the girl sitting right next to me get tapped on the forehead. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she slumped back, mouth open and drooling.

“Isn’t she pretty?”

She put her hand below my chin and made me nod, I hardly noticed I was just staring at the girl

“Doesn’t she look beautiful, all sleepy like that?”

She made me nod again

“Don’t you want to look like that?”

I nodded, I wasn’t sure if she made me or not

She turned my head to face her again. Her other hand was held up in front of me, her index finger pointed at me. My eyes focused on the tip of her finger

“W-wait”

“Nighty night”

She tapped me on the forehead

#hypnosis #hypnok1nk #mind control #brainwashing #hypnotized #shortstory #hypnostory #let me know if you like it #I might do a sequel

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thedemoninme141 · 1 day

Text

Her Heartbeat, Chapter 6: Her emotions

Summary: Friday's therapy session turns into camping with you.. where accidents happen.

Warnings: DRUNK WEDNESDAY! Light Angst. EmotonallyConfusedWednesday!!!! Getting Drugged Accidentally

(Note: It is a veryyyy long chapter, Tell me how you guys liked it, or if drunk Wednesday seemed out of character, I won't mind)

Chapter 1 Previous Chapter Worklist

By the time Thursday rolled around, the pattern had solidified itself, like a storm cloud hanging persistently on the horizon. Every morning, you’d sit beside Wednesday in the quad, annoyingly persistent but never enough for her to feel justified in telling you to leave. You had a knack for toeing the line—just far enough to irk her but never enough to earn her outright rejection.

In class, the routine was much the same. You’d slip into the seat beside her as if it were your rightful place. The second you sat down, her entire world seemed to narrow, every sense heightened in your proximity. The faint rustle of your clothes, the soft sighs you made when the lecture got particularly dull, the slight tap of your fingers against your notebook—it all became a package of distractions.

She tried to make sense of it all. Why would you go through such efforts to get close to her? You are definitely working for someone. Perhaps Thornhill? Or worse—another follower of crackstone? Could you have been a spy? Sent to observe her? To get closer and learn her weaknesses?

"What are you really doing here?" Wednesday’s voice was low, more to herself than to you. Her eyes remained focused on the blackboard, but her thoughts were elsewhere—specifically on the constant, irritating sensation of your presence. You blinked in surprise, your pen pausing mid-word. "Uh… learning? Isn’t that why we’re all here?" "Don’t insult my intelligence." Her eyes narrowed, her voice growing colder, “Why are you always here? Sitting beside me, following me like a shadow. It’s pathetic.” You leaned in closer, your breath warm against her ear. “Maybe I just enjoy your company.” Wednesday's eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Enjoy? You find my disdain enjoyable?” A shrug. “I find you enjoyable. Everything else is just part of the package.”

That caught her off guard. For a moment, she didn’t have a response and it took all her self-control to avoid showing how much that unsettled her. She hated that you always had the upper hand in conversations like this. She hated that your attention felt like a weight she couldn’t shake. Most of all, she hated that a part of her—however small and buried deep—wondered what it would be like to let you in.

Wednesday didn't particularly care for or against Fridays. They were simply another day in the endless monotony of her existence. But this Friday? It was different. It was another one of those irritating anger management sessions—a pointless exercise orchestrated by fools, for fools. And now, she had to endure it with you. As if her tolerance for idiocy wasn’t already at its breaking point.

She had barely gotten herself dressed when the inevitable, irritating sound of knocking echoed through her door. "Do you ever get tired of existing so obnoxiously?" she asked, her voice cold and flat. You smirked, unfazed. "Not if it means I get to hang out with you." "Ugh," Wednesday muttered under her breath, reaching for her black trench coat. Before you could say another word, Enid popped into the doorway. "Ooh, look at you!" she said, her eyes lighting up as she saw you. "That dress is so cute! It really suits you." You beamed. "Thanks, Enid! Thought I’d try something different." Wednesday rolled her eyes. "Different? You look like a walking garden. I half expect bees to swarm you the moment we step outside." You shrugged with a grin, clearly enjoying her jabs. "I’ll take that as a compliment." "It wasn’t," she deadpanned, slipping into her coat. "Let’s go. If we’re late, David will prolong the session for me."

As you two made your way out of the dorm, Enid waved goodbye cheerfully. "Have fun at therapy!" Wednesday shot her a glare that screamed ‘I’d rather die,’ "So, you excited for today?" you asked, the teasing lilt in your voice grating against her already thin patience. "Excited would imply I feel any sense of positive anticipation," Wednesday responded coolly. "No. Today is just another unfortunate event in a long string of unfortunate events." "Yeah, that sounds about right," you agreed with a chuckle. "Though, spending time with me can’t be that bad." Wednesday shot you a side glance. "Your self-delusion is truly remarkable." "Oh, I’m well aware of my delusions, but hey, they keep me going."

She sighed, trying to ignore the warmth of your presence next to her. It was irritating, how familiar the rhythm of walking beside you had become. You always matched her steps perfectly, never rushing, never falling behind.

Wednesday would've preferred the taxi ride to be as silent as it can get but of course, you filled the silence with light conversation, asking her the most mundane questions imaginable, while Wednesday sat stiffly beside you, arms crossed, staring out the window. "So, I was thinking," you began, pausing for dramatic effect, "do you think if I ordered a black coffee today, I’d be more like you?" "No," she answered immediately. "You didn’t even think about it." "Because I already know the answer. You could drink a gallon of black coffee, wear all black, and listen to Beethoven’s most haunting symphony, and you’d still be as painfully cheerful as you are now." You grinned, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. "Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. I think there’s a part of you that secretly enjoys my company. You’d miss me if I stopped hanging around." "I’d miss you like I’d miss an infection," she said coldly, her eyes never leaving the window. But even as she said it, there was a gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach. The truth was, your absence would be noticed. After all, you were always there. And when you weren’t, it left a strange, hollow space in her day. Not that she would ever admit it.

"Ah, there they are!" David called, his voice loud and cheerful, as if he had been waiting all day just for your arrival. He was wearing his usual obnoxiously bright scarf and smiling wide enough to make Wednesday wish she’d turned back sooner.

"Wonderful to see you both! We’re doing something a little different today!" he announced enthusiastically as you and Wednesday approached.

Wednesday narrowed her eyes. "Different how?" she asked, already expecting the worst.

David motioned toward a minibus parked just outside the café. "Today, we’re going on a therapeutic field trip! Under the open skies, connecting with nature. It’s going to be great!"

Wednesday’s entire demeanor stiffened, and her gaze darkened. "I refuse," she said flatly. "I did not sign up for some kumbaya nonsense in the middle of a field. If you think—"

"If you refuse," David interrupted, holding up a finger, "I’ll have no choice but to report to Principal Weems that you’re not making progress. And we wouldn’t want that, now, would we?"

Wednesday’s expression turned venomous. She stood still, glaring at David with pure disdain. "You are a stain on humanity." "Not the first time I’ve heard that!" David replied, still grinning. "Now hop on the bus, both of you." Wednesday clenched her jaw, resisting every instinct to turn and leave. The bus was small and cramped, all those fools were already there. and Wednesday had already claimed the farthest seat in the back, as far away from everyone as possible. You slid in next to her, earning a sideways glare. "Don’t get comfortable," she said icily. "Too late," you replied, settling in with a smirk. As the bus rumbled to life and began its journey to the woods, Wednesday stared out the window, her mind racing. She hated every second of this. But more than that, she hated how… unsettled she felt with you next to her. She hated how she could feel your presence, how your every movement drew her attention. And she hated that she didn’t want you to leave. Maybe this session would offer more than just torturous fresh air—maybe it would give her the chance to figure out why you were really here. Because Wednesday knew one thing for certain: you were hiding something. And she was going to find out what it was, whether you liked it or not.

David, at the front of the bus, was chattering to the driver, too excited for whatever nonsense he had planned. "How much longer do you think this torture will last?" Wednesday muttered under her breath, her eyes fixed out the window, watching the trees blur by. You leaned closer, a smile tugging at your lips. "Not a fan of the great outdoors, Wednesday?" "No, I had my fair share in the woods. I prefer my environment to be hostile," she replied coolly The bus finally rolled to a stop at the edge of a dense forest. David hopped off first, "Alright, we’re heading to the lake! It’s about two hours walk, but don’t worry—we’ll take breaks if anyone needs it! Stretch those legs—we've got a nice hike ahead" Wednesday let out a sigh, muttering, “And thus, the descent into idiocy begins.” She glanced at you, fully expecting to see that infuriating grin of yours, and she was not disappointed. "Come on, Wends," you said, using the nickname you knew she despised. "It’ll be fun." "It will be insufferable," she corrected, stepping down from the bus with her usual grace. She was already too bored to correct you. “Man, I thought we were gonna talk about our feelings. Not… hike.” Alex complained. "Alex. It’s about the journey—learning to appreciate nature and each other." David answered from up ahead Wednesday stayed near the back as the group began to march forward, already regretting every moment of this cursed field trip. You, of course, kept pace beside her, walking with that irritating bounce in your step. "So," you said after a few moments of silence. "What do you think the lake looks like?" "Water," Wednesday deadpanned. Rick whistling low under his breath. “Can’t believe we’re actually doing this. You still got the shovel?” Ashley elbowed him in the ribs again, her voice a low hiss. “Shut up, Rick.” “So, like, do you think there are any wolves around here? Or, ooh, maybe bears! Wouldn’t that be so dramatic?” Brooked chipped. Mike looked like he was seriously considering abandoning her in the woods. “I… really don’t think there are bears, Brooke.” “Oh, but wouldn’t it be romantic? You saving me from a bear or something?” Mike just groaned Wednesday caught snippets of their conversation, her irritation growing with every inane comment. She muttered under her breath, “I would gladly throw her to a bear.” “Isn’t this just wonderful? The fresh air, the sound of birds, the gentle rustle of leaves! A perfect day for personal growth!” David cheered from the front. You were trying to stifle a laugh beside Wednesday, but it slipped out. “You gotta admit, he’s really into this.” “I have nothing to admit,” Wednesday muttered darkly. As they walked. Wednesday found herself paying far too much attention to your reactions—the slight smile on your face, the way you occasionally glanced at her when you thought she wasn’t looking. It was intriguing irritating.

Eventually, the trees began to thin out, the scent of water growing stronger as the lake came into view.

Mike was the first to notice it, squinting at the far side of the clearing. "Uh… guys? What’s with the tents?"

David clapped his hands together, that annoyingly chipper smile still plastered across his face. "Ah, yes! About that—"

Wednesday's eyes narrowed.

David gave an exaggerated shrug. "Oops! Did I forget to mention we’re staying the night?"

The entire group froze.

"What?" Alex’s voice dropped, his fists clenched. "Staying overnight?"

Rick stared at David like he’d just been sentenced to death. "Nah, no way. I’ve got plans. You can’t just spring this on us."

Ashley threw up her hands. "David, you didn’t say anything about camping! I didn’t even pack!"

Brooke, unsurprisingly, clapped her hands together. "This is amazing! We’re going to spend the night under the stars—just like in the movies!"

"Of course you’re excited," Mike grumbled. "This is a disaster."

Meanwhile, Wednesday stood there, silently seething. Her mind was racing with all the ways she could strangle David without leaving a trace. "You ambushed us," she said, her voice cold, each word clipped. "Do you have a death wish?"

David chuckled nervously. "Oh, come on, guys. It’ll be fun! A little nature retreat, some time away from distractions—" Wednesday interrupted, her tone venomous. "The only thing distracting me right now is the overwhelming desire to set this entire campsite ablaze." You, of course, were clearly enjoying this, "Well, this is unexpected, but kind of exciting, right? At least the lake is beautiful!" She stared at you with her deadpan expression, trying to comprehend how anyone could be happy about this situation. "I sincerely hope the lake swallows you whole." You only grinned wider. "Guess I’ll take that as an invitation for a swim later." "Ugh," she muttered under her breath, rubbing her temples as though she could ward off the headache brewing in her skull. David, trying desperately to salvage the situation, raised his hands. "It’s not that bad, I promise! The tents are already set up, and we’ve got food, water, and supplies. This will be a great opportunity to unwind and connect with nature." You nudged her lightly with your elbow. "Hey, at least you’ve got me here to keep you company." "You’re the worst part of this." "Aw, don’t be like that. I’ll make sure you have fun." Wednesday resisted the urge to shove you into the lake. Each person got their own tent, which was the one small mercy in this nightmare of an outing. Wednesday glanced at the others, some fumbling with their tents or laughing awkwardly, completely unaware of how insufferable they were. Of course, you were helping David get the campfire going, your face lit up with a soft smile as you fumbled with the firewood. Wednesday watched you from the corner of her eye, wondering how you could seem so content in this ridiculous situation. You didn't seem annoyed or put off like she was—you were just… happy to help. She couldn't understand it. She had been relegated to "supervision duty," which meant standing around doing absolutely nothing while everyone else bustled about with assigned tasks. Mike and Alex were handling the food, Brooke was talking to some random birds like they were her long-lost cousins, and Rick and Ashley were off near the lake, laughing about who knew what.

David, with his typical cheery disposition, waved everyone over. "Alright, everyone, gather around! The fire's going, and it's almost time for our session!" Great. The therapy session. The exact reason Wednesday wanted to bury herself in the woods and never return. But she had to stay—for now because she had to find out why you were everywhere. She watched as you placed a few more logs on the fire before stepping back and joining the group. She hated how naturally you fit into all this, while every second felt like torture for her.

As the sky darkened, the session began. Wednesday sat at the edge of the group, her fingers twitching toward her coat pocket where her knives were hidden. Five knives. She let her mind wander to the logistics of taking them all out. David was the priority. Strangling him would be more satisfying, but a quick knife to the throat would be efficient. She could— "Wednesday?" She blinked and glanced at you, irritated at being pulled back into reality. You looked at her expectantly, probably wondering why she was spacing out. David cleared his throat, obviously oblivious to her thoughts. "Okay, let's start! Today's session is still all about discussing our most recent challenges. How we handled them, what we learned… you know the drill." Wednesday's expression tightened. Oh, she knew the drill all too well. Each session was the same monotonous routine—listening to everyone talk about their mundane problems and pretend they were making progress. It was a miracle she hadn't stabbed someone by now.

Alex started first, talking about how he got into a fight with his dad over some trivial matter. "But I didn't punch a wall this time," he added proudly, and Milo gave him a sleepy nod of approval. "That's great, Alex!" David beamed. "You're learning to manage your anger better."

Next up was Brooke, who dramatically recounted some "epic argument" she'd had with her mom over her phone privileges. "But I didn't give in! I stood my ground, because self-care is important, right?" David nodded enthusiastically, clearly buying into Brooke's theatrics. "Absolutely, Brooke. Boundaries are important."

Wednesday's eyes flicked to the campfire. Maybe she could just throw herself into it. That would be preferable to listening to more of this.

Mike's was about some misunderstanding with his sister, while Rick rambled on about his mother. Wednesday could feel her patience thinning with each passing second.

And then... it was her turn. David looked at her expectantly. "Wednesday, how about you? Have you faced any challenges lately?" She stared at him, the burning firelight reflected in her dark eyes. The group was silent, waiting for her to share some deep revelation. Of course, David had to push a bit, flashing his annoyingly encouraging smile. "It helps to talk, you know. We're all in this together." That was it. That was the final straw.

Wednesday's eyes narrowed, and she felt something snap inside her. "You want to know about my challenges?" she began, her voice dangerously calm. "My challenge is sitting here, surrounded by imbeciles, pretending that anything you people say has any merit. I don't care about your 'self-care' or your 'boundaries' or how you didn't punch a wall for the first time in months, Alex." Everyone froze. The campfire crackled in the silence as Wednesday's words hung in the air. "And you," she turned to Brooke, "standing your ground with your mother over your phone privileges, are you serious? That's not a challenge. That's pathetic. The fact that any of you think you're achieving something meaningful by whining about your trivial lives is insufferable." Then she pointed to Rick "You keep whining about your mother but you are so dependent on her that you can't even move out. How about you fix that and then whine." David opened his mouth to speak, but Wednesday cut him off. "Don't. Just don't. I've had enough of this ridiculous charade." She stood abruptly, her black coat swirling as she turned on her heel and stormed away from the group. You sighed, David giving you a look. "Yeah I know I know, I am going to get her, but umm.. if I do not return, look for me in the lake, that's where she might throw my body." The water shimmered in the fading light as she reached the far side of the lake. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes, trying to calm the storm raging inside her.

But then, she heard footsteps behind her. Of course it was you.

"Wednesday," you said softly, your voice cautious as you approached. She didn’t respond at first, her eyes fixed on the shimmering water in front of her. For a moment, you wondered if she even heard you. But then, slowly, she turned her head, her dark eyes locking onto yours. There was a storm in those eyes—anger, frustration, something deeper that she was too proud to acknowledge.

"I don’t want to talk," she said flatly, "Go back to the group. I’m fine here."

You ignored her dismissal, walking closer until you were standing beside her, staring at the same water. "I’m not leaving you alone, Wednesday. Not when you’re this upset."

She let out a sharp breath through her nose, clearly irritated. "Upset? I’m not upset. I’m annoyed. There’s a difference."

"Right. Annoyed." You nodded, as if you were going along with her, but your voice remained soft, patient. "You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to, but... I just don’t think it’s as bad as you’re making it out to be."

Wednesday shot you a glare, her eyebrow arching in disdain. "Do you enjoy this?" she snapped. "Being part of David’s circus, listening to everyone complain about how tragic their lives are?"

You met her gaze, unfazed by her sharp tone. "It’s not about enjoying it, Wednesday. It’s about trying. Everyone has something going on, and sometimes, talking about it helps. Even if it seems pointless at first."

"Pointless is an understatement," she muttered, turning her eyes back to the lake. "All they do is whine. They don’t solve anything, they just sit around, waiting for someone else to fix their lives for them."

"Not everyone’s as good at handling things alone as you are," you replied gently. "But even you—sometimes you don’t have to handle everything by yourself. Opening up doesn’t make you weak."

She clenched her jaw, her fingers twitching slightly as if she was fighting the urge to argue. "Opening up is a waste of time. It accomplishes nothing. People think sharing their problems will magically solve them, but in the end, they’re still the ones who have to deal with it. Words don’t change that." You sighed softly, recognizing the walls she was building around herself. But you didn’t give up. You couldn’t. You had a mission.

"It’s not about solving everything in one conversation. It’s about letting go, even for a little while. It gives you room to breathe, to think clearly without all that pressure building up inside."

"I don’t need to breathe," she said finally, though her voice was quieter than before, less sharp. "I’m perfectly fine handling things on my own."

"I know you are," you said softly, turning to face her fully. "But that doesn’t mean you have to. You don’t always have to be so... closed off."

Wednesday didn’t respond immediately. Her eyes flickered, something unreadable crossing her expression before she quickly masked it with her usual stoic demeanor. She sighed, clearly exasperated, but there was a hint of something softer in her voice when she finally spoke.

"Why do you even care?" she asked, her tone quieter now, almost vulnerable. "Why do you insist on dragging me into these... emotions?"

You smiled softly, knowing how hard it was for her to even ask that question. "Because I care about you, Wednesday. And I don’t want to see you carrying everything by yourself. I don't want to see you ending up alone. Even if you think you’re fine, it doesn’t hurt to let someone else in every once in a while."

She turned her head slightly, her eyes studying your face as if she were searching for some hidden motive. But all she found was sincerity. That seemed to bother her more than anything else.

"I’m not... good at this," she muttered, her voice almost too low to hear. "You don’t have to be," you replied.

For a long moment, Wednesday was silent, her expression unreadable as she stared at the lake. Then, with a resigned sigh, she turned on her heel and began walking back toward the campfire, clearly unwilling to admit that she was even considering your words.

You followed, relieved that she hadn’t completely shut down.

When the two of you returned to the camp, the group was still sitting around the fire, chatting quietly. To your surprise, no one seemed particularly upset about Wednesday’s earlier outburst. In fact, David greeted her with a bright smile, completely unfazed.

"Ah, Wednesday! Glad to have you back," he welcomed her cheerfully as if nothing had happened. Wednesday narrowed her eyes slightly. "Did you call Principal Weems to notify her about my "failure"? " David chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. "Of course not! Everyone needs to vent sometimes. It’s healthy." The others nodded in agreement. Rick smirked a little, but even he didn’t seem too bothered. "Honestly, I kind of expected you to blow up sooner. That was nothing compared to what I thought you’d do." Ashley gave Wednesday an exaggerated wink. "I like a girl who speaks her mind."

Wednesday blinked, clearly taken aback by their nonchalant reactions. She had expected them to be offended, maybe even hold a grudge. But they seemed... fine. Completely fine.

She sat down reluctantly, her posture stiff as ever, but there was a faint crack in her emotional armor. "I still think this is a waste of time," she muttered, though her voice lacked its usual venom.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pulled it out and winced. “I have to take this,” you muttered to Wednesday, who shot you an irritated look. You mouthed an apology and stepped away, leaving Wednesday sitting awkwardly with the group.

David gently steered the conversation back to her. “Wednesday, do you want to share? You don’t have to, of course, but we’re here if you want to talk.”

The urge to reject him outright surged within her, but something—perhaps your words, perhaps the nagging feeling in her chest—made her hesitate. Her fingers tightened on the fabric of her coat, and she looked away from the group, staring at the flames instead.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she spoke. “There’s someone... someone who’s been getting under my skin. Someone who I can’t seem to get out of my head.”

The words felt foreign on her tongue, uncomfortable and raw, but she couldn’t stop them. The group remained silent, waiting, not pushing her.

“This person,” she continued, her voice cold but wavering, “is... everywhere. They keep showing up in my life, in my thoughts. And I don’t want them to. But I can’t stop it. It’s... infuriating.”

David nodded, encouraging her gently. “And how does that make you feel?”

“How do you think it makes me feel?” Wednesday snapped, her temper flaring. “Annoyed. Angry. It’s like they’ve invaded my mind, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t shake them. I don’t like feeling out of control.”

David nods, his tone patient. “How would you feel if you could get rid of those thoughts? Push them out entirely?” Wednesday frowns, the question catching her off guard. She thinks for a moment, her eyes narrowing as she considers it. She felt strange.. she thought she would feel better but she feels.. "Empty." The word tasted bitter on her tongue, foreign and unwelcome. She didn’t realize she had said it out loud until she saw the group’s reactions—or lack thereof. No judgment, no pity. Just quiet acceptance. She didn’t know if that made her feel better or worse.

David nods. “Sometimes, the things we resist the most are the things we need to hold on to. They can fill a part of us we didn’t even know was empty.”

Rick leaned forward with a grin on his face,

“So... is this 'someone' on the phone right now?”

Wednesday's head whipped around, her eyes narrowing into a deadly glare. "If you value your life, you'll stop talking."

Rick held up his hands in surrender, but the grin remained. Ashley quickly elbowed him, muttering, “Not the time, Rick.”

Alex groaned loudly, clutching his head in mock agony. "Ugh, All the emotional talk is making me sleepy, I need coffee, like, now. Someone, please, for the love of all that’s good in this world, make some coffee." David looked over at Rick and Ashley. "Alright, Rick, Ashley, why don't you two get the coffee started before Alex dies." Rick gave a half-hearted salute. "On it, boss." He turned to Ashley, who was lounging beside him. "Hey, go grab the sugar from my bag, will you? Ashley rolled her eyes but obliged, getting up with a huff to retrieve the 'sugar' from Rick's bag. Meanwhile, Rick turned to Wednesday, a sly grin on his face. "So, Addams, how do you take your coffee?" "Bitter," she replied finally, her voice flat. "Just like life." Rick snorted, shaking his head. "Of course. Should’ve guessed."

As Wednesday sat there waiting for the coffee to be made, she found herself growing restless. That hollow, gnawing emptiness she had tried so hard to ignore began to surface again, tightening in her chest. Where had you gone? You were always right there, standing beside her, but now you were out of reach well you weren't actually, you were just gone for a few moments and she hated it.

As the minutes ticked by, Wednesday’s thoughts drifted further. What did it mean?

The quiet chaos of her thoughts was interrupted when Rick handed her a cup of coffee. "Here you go, black as death itself."

She took the cup without a word, the warmth spreading through her hands as she stared into the dark liquid. She sipped it, expecting the usual bitterness. But this...this was different. It tasted...a bit weird but more than the coffee, it was her feelings for you that occupied her mind. How had she ended up here? Talking about her emotions, exposing herself in ways she never thought possible? She wasn’t the type to dwell on uncertainty. She preferred things to be direct, to have answers and solutions, but when it came to you—everything was blurred. Once these therapy sessions were over... where would you stand? Where would she stand?

She felt strange. The warmth of the coffee spread through her, loosening the tightness in her chest. The more she drank, the more that strange, comfortable haze settled in, drowning out her usual sharp clarity. She finished her cup without realizing it,

"More," she demanded, holding the cup out toward Rick.

"Whoa, didn’t take you for a coffee fiend," he teased, but he refilled her cup without hesitation.

What would happen once this was over? Once you both returned to your lives outside of these campfire confessions and group therapy? Would you drift apart, as people often do, or would you stay? And more importantly, did she want you to stay?

Everything felt off, but not unpleasantly so. The others were acting weird—dancing, laughing—but she didn’t care. She just wanted more of this feeling, more of the numbness that let her ignore the confusing emotions you always brought out in her. So, she drank more coffee. And more. And more.

Meanwhile, you wrapped up your call . “Yeah, Dad, YEAAAH, I GET IT. I’ll be careful. I already took them, okay? Yes, I’ll call tomorrow. Gotta go. Bye!” You sighed heavily, tucking your phone back into your pocket. That conversation had gone on way too long. You started heading back to the camp, but as you got closer, something felt... wrong. The group was acting strange. They weren’t just sitting and talking anymore—they were dancing. Not the casual, awkward dancing of people who barely knew each other, but wild, like they didn’t have a care in the world.

“What the hell?” you muttered under your breath, scanning the group. Where was Wednesday? You searched for her, but she was nowhere near the fire.

“David,” you called out, hurrying over to him. “Where’s Wednesday?”

David looked at you, his eyes glazed over, a lazy grin on his face. “Wednesday? Today’s Friday... right?”

You blinked. “What? What does that have to do with—never mind.” You looked past him and saw Wednesday, walking by the lake with a... distinct wobble. Your heart skipped a beat. Wednesday Addams didn’t wobble. She is as steady and composed as a statue.

As you approached, you heard her voice—low, muttering, and oddly slurred. "You... why do you do this to me? Always... being there. Except when you're not, which is even worse. But then you're there again, and I hate it, but... I don’t hate it."

You blinked, utterly confused. "Wednesday?"

She turned, almost tripping over her own feet, and gave you a look that could only be described as... perplexed. But not the usual cold, calculated Wednesday-perplexed—this was more... tipsy.

"Ahh, it’s you," she said, squinting at you like you were a strange object she couldn’t quite figure out. "Why are you always... there?" She waved her hand in a vague circle. "Like... just there, making everything... feel... confusing."

You stared at her, unsure whether to laugh or panic. Wednesday never talked like this. "Wednesday, what are you talking about?"

She pointed a finger at you, jabbing it in your direction with surprising force, but her balance was completely off. "You! You make everything so... so... confusing. I don’t like it. But also... I kind of like it. And I hate that I like it. You’re... annoying. But I get more annoyed when you’re not here."

"Okay, Wednesday..." you took a step closer, noticing how she swayed again, her expression shifting between annoyance and something else—something vulnerable. "What’s going on with you?"

"I don’t know!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air dramatically, completely out of character. "I never know with you. I think about you, and it’s like... ugh, why are you in my head?"

Realization slapped you harder than Will Smith's slap to Chris Rock.

“Wednesday, are you... drunk?”

She squinted at you as if your question was offensive. “I don’t get drunk,” she declared. “I’m above such mortal weaknesses. But you... you make everything so complicated. You and your... your stupid face.”

You grabbed her hand to steady her. Her skin was cool to the touch, but the moment you made contact, she froze, staring down at your hand in hers. “Why does this—this thing always feel weird?” she muttered, her voice lower now. “Your hand… it does this thing... makes me feel… something. I don’t like it. But I do. And that’s the problem.”

You ignored the way your heart raced at her words, focusing instead on what was clearly the problem. You glanced back at the camp, suspicion building. Rick. It had to be him. You reached into Wednesday’s coat, pulling out her knife, not paying attention to the fact that you felt several knives, and marched back toward Rick, who was still swaying around, laughing with no care in the world.

“Rick,” you growled, grabbing him by the collar and pressing the knife to his neck. “What the hell did you do?”

Rick blinked, eyes glazed, a goofy grin on his face. “Whaaat? Nothing! I just made the coffee... best coffee ever, man.”

Your eyes landed on the open box near the coffee pot. You picked it up, sniffing it. This wasn’t sugar. Your heart dropped. “Rick, you idiot,” you groaned. “You spiked the coffee!”

Rick just laughed, completely oblivious to the chaos he’d caused. Meanwhile, you glanced around at the others—dancing, laughing, totally out of their minds. Great. You were now in charge of nine drunk people,

And a high Wednesday Addams.

You sighed heavily. This is going to be a long night.

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itendtothinkalot · 14 hours

Text

its me or the ps5 (not literally)

summary: gamer bf beomgyu is in the midst of a lol battle with soobin but all u rly want is his attention :(((

genre: all fluff, no plot

characters: gamer bf!beomgyu x f!reader

words: not too many (i havent counted)

warnings: kinda suggestive but other than its pretty fluffy hehe

It had been hours since he last spoke to you. No, he wasn’t angry. No, he wasn’t upset with you. He was just really into his game.

You lay in bed, the soft glow of the screen casting shadows on his back as he sat at the computer, shouting curses between bursts of laughter. His words, loud and rapid, formed a jumble you could only half understand—it felt like trying to learn a new language, each phrase coming out as broken sentences.

“Something something, I’ll go mid, something something.” You managed to grasp this much.

You craved his attention. Sure, your last date was just three hours ago, but it wasn’t enough. He’d spoil you so much during the date that you’d gotten greedy. You needed him now—his attention, his hands, his words. But there he was, locked in with his favorite thing in the world: his pc.

“He missed me! Dude, he missed me!” Beomgyu yelled into the mic, laughing loudly. His fingers flew across the keyboard, the rapid clicking almost rhythmic. Out of curiosity, you peeked around the corner from your spot on the bed and watched him play. You didn’t really know how to play League, though you’d seen him at it plenty of times and had dabbled a bit when he’d offered to teach you.

Your body inched closer and closer, curiosity pulling you toward the screen. You could see his character zooming across the map, darting from one point to another. From what little you understood, he was doing really well—so well, in fact, that it made you feel even needier than you already did.

As you scooted inch by inch across the bed, you unknowingly reached the very edge. Before you realized it, your body slipped off, sending you tumbling to the floor with a soft thud. You let out a yelp, "AUGH!" The sound echoed through the room, catching your boyfriend’s attention. Beomgyu turned, eyes widening as he saw you sprawled on the floor.

"Baby, what are you doing on the floor?" His voice was laced with concern, though you could tell by the twitch of his lips that he was seconds away from bursting into laughter.

“Nothing.” You said, still on the floor.

He chuckled, standing up and making his way over to you. With a playful grin, he lifted you off the floor and gently placed you back on the bed. Leaning down, he gave you a quick kiss on the lips. “You’re an idiot,” he said, his voice overflowing with affection.

“Yours,” you agreed with a giggle.

“CHOI BEOMGYU!” A muffled voice shouted through his headphones.

“Shit. Coming!” he yelled back, giving you one last quick kiss before rushing back to his chair. As he put his headset on, he shot back, “Shut up. You’re one to talk, you fucking virgin.”

You chuckled, knowing they were probably teasing him about you.

You huffed, puffing out your cheeks in frustration. Falling wasn’t part of the plan, but at least you had his attention for a moment. Was that full minute enough to satiate your needs? No. You wanted him in bed, cuddling you and recounting his day—though you had spent the entire day together.

Your phone buzzed.

Soobin: get ur bf off the pc

You: ???

Soobin: hes annoying wtf

You: youre literally stealing him away from me u asshat

Soobin: hes literally rite beside u

You: men r so dense

Soobin: hes SAYING HES WINNING and telling all his friends that he won over me when he didnt

You: why are u so mad its just a game

Soobin: U SUCK

“Baby, is Soobin’s character dead?” you asked.

Beomgyu glanced over, lifting the left side of his headphones. The faint glow of the computer screen reflected in his eyes. “Did you say something, sweetheart?”

“Is Soobin’s character dead?” you repeated, a teasing smile on your lips.

He nodded, a focused look on his face. “Yeah, why?”

You laughed, turning back to your phone. “Nothing.”

“Is he texting you?” Beomgyu asked, a hint of jealousy creeping into his voice, though you probably didn’t notice.

You nodded, rolling your eyes playfully. “He’s just being annoying.”

“What’d he say?”

You shrugged. “Nothing much. He’s just talking about the game.”

“To you?” Beomgyu’s tone was sharper, and you looked up from your phone to see him fully turned toward you now. A far cry from just two minutes ago when he had been giving you only side glances. His complete attention was on you, a mix of curiosity and something else flickering in his eyes.

This piqued your interest. Was he jealous?

“Yes, Gyu. To me.” You laughed, placing your phone on the bed.

“Gyu?” His brows furrowed slightly, and you could see the shift in his expression. You knew that hit a nerve. He was expecting terms of endearment—baby, my love, sweetheart, darling, angel, daddy—but hearing just his name, the nickname you used when you were still friends, made him twitch.

“Gyu?” he repeated, a slight edge to his voice.

“Is that not your name?” you teased, a playful smile on your lips.

“No. Not to you.” He frowned, his focus shifting entirely away from the game. You watched as he pressed a button on his PC, the lights on his headphones flickering off. He had muted his friends, the sounds of the game fading into silence.

He took off the headphones and set them on the desk, then slowly made his way to the bed, his expression darkened as he approached you.

“Hm, really now?” You grinned, knowing you were reeling him in.

“To you, it’s baby,” he pouted, crossing his arms dramatically. “Why are you calling me by my government name?”

“Gyu is not your government name.” You laughed.

“Yes, it is. Y’know who calls me Gyu? My mother. Are you my mom?”

“No I’m not, Gyu.”

“You did it again!” He gasped, eyes wide with mock horror. “Evil has gotten to you. You’ve been hanging out with Soobin too much.”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

“Baby~” he whined, leaning closer. “Do you still love me?”

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Aren’t you the one ignoring me for a game?”

“Ignoring you? Baby…” He feigned innocence, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “I stopped my winning streak for you. Now Soobin’s gonna go berserk, posting on every social media that he won. I did this for you.” His expression was a mix of exasperation and affection.

“No. You stopped because you got jealous of your friend.”

“Soobin’s gorgeous. You can’t blame me for being jealous.”

You chuckled, “Soobin’s gorgeous? That’s your defense.”

He nodded aggressively, “Yes! He is. Didn’t you have a crush on him when we were all just becoming friends?”

Now you were confused, “Huh?”

“You had this major crush on him, didn’t you?”

“No. No, I didn’t!”

“Yes, you did!”

“You’re making this up! Are you sure you’re not the one with a crush on him?” You accused.

“Look, he’s gorgeous and all, but… I’m into you. Specifically. If anyone asked me what my preference was, I’d say you. I’d always say you.” Beomgyu sighed, kneeling in front of you, resting his chin between your legs as he gazed up at you with earnest eyes.

You nodded, a satisfied grin spreading across your face. “Looks like I trained you well.” You ran your fingers gently through his hair, feeling the soft strands slip between your fingers.

“Mmf, play with my hair,” he murmured, sighing in contentment.

You always told everyone who asked that your boyfriend resembled a puppy—his big, expressive eyes and playful nature made it impossible not to think so. He loved being pampered, adored the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp, and thrived any sort of affection you showered him with.

“You sure? You seem like you’re losing,” you pointed out, glancing at the game still unfolding on the screen.

“I don’t care,” he replied, waving a dismissive hand.

“Really now?” You tilted your head, curiosity evident in your expression.

“Mhm.” He nodded confidently. “I’ll let Soobin win.”

“That’s the first.” you said, raising an eyebrow.

He nuzzled his cheeks against your bare thighs, a playful pout forming on his lips. “Please,” he begged, looking up at you through his eyelashes.

“Sure, Gyu.” You teased again, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Again? Really?” He lifted his head off your legs, feigning exasperation. “Do you want me to start crying?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, trying to keep a straight face.

“Repeat after me. Ba…” He shifted above you, placing his arms on both sides of your legs, propping himself up so you were face-to-face with him. His eyes locked onto yours. His arms held your back, pushing you closer towards him.

You had been dating for years, yet it was almost excruciating how he could still make you feel giddy, even after countless sleepovers. The way he looked at you, the way he kisses you, the playful banter that never seemed to bore you.

“Ba…” You followed, grinning.

“By…” He leaned closer, whispering into your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

“By.”

“Good girl.” He pecked your cheeks lightly, a playful smile spreading across his face. “Now say it all together.” His face was so desperately close to yours, his eyes sparkling with anticipation, begging to hear the words.

“Baby,” you finished, your voice barely above a whisper.

He grinned, his eyes sparkling as he grabbed your chin, pulling you in for a deeper kiss. “Don’t forget that.”

“How could I?” you murmured, breathless under the warmth of his lips, your heart racing.

Lost in the heat of the moment, the two of you spent the next few minutes locked in a deep, passionate kiss. Your bodies pressed together, his hands exploring every inch of you, yet always remaining gentle. The intensity of the connection between you both grew with each second as each kiss grew desperate and needier, you couldn’t help but wish you could see him everyday.

You tapped Beomgyu’s arms as you both slowed down the kiss, exchanging gentle pecks between your playful conversation.

“Baby.” Peck.

“What do—” Peck.

“You think—” Peck.

“About—”

“Mmf, I can’t think right now.” Beomgyu continued, playfully pushing you down onto the bed as he showered you with kisses.

“Baby, this is important.”

“What could be more important than this?” he replied, giving you one final peck before falling beside you, entwining his fingers with yours.

“Well, what do you think about living together?” you asked.

“Hm?” His eyes lit up with curiosity.

“We're already always at each other’s places,” you explained, a hopeful smile playing on your lips.

“You just get smarter each day, don’t you?” he teased, propping his elbows on either side of you as he gazed down, admiration shining in his eyes. “Because I think that’s the smartest thing anyone has ever said. Even Einstein couldn’t figure this out.”

“Baby, it’s a yes or no,” you laughed, enjoying the playful banter.

“As if I’d say no to staying with the world’s most perfect person.” He scoffed in mock disbelief, a grin spreading across his face. “And imagine this: we could stay in bed all day after doing all sorts of things all night.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Gyu…” you looked at him sternly, trying to suppress a smile.

“Again with my government name!” He exclaimed dramatically.

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your affection. “I love you.”

“And I love—” He pressed his lips onto yours, silencing you with a kiss. “You.”

#txt fic #txt oneshot #txt x reader #txt fanfic #txt fluff #txt imagines #txt scenarios #beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu x y/n #choi beomgyu x you #beomgyu x you #beomgyu txt au #beomgyu au

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thescarletnargacuga · 2 days

Note

We've had mother and son bonding with Pomni and Cade. Now how about some father and son time? It can be silly or sad, I just really enjoy seeing the little muppet boy.

A/N: Cade deserves something nice after the last couple stories involving him in peril

REACH OUT

A HARLEQUIN AU ONESHOT

AU credit @iamespecter @tadc-harlequin-au

WARNING: none

~~~

Deep in the basement depths of the manor lies Caine's workshop. A cavernous room full of equipment for designing and engineering inventions from the mind of the puppetmaster. Everything from watches and weapons to puppets themselves have been developed in that room. Most days, Caine retreats to his workshop for solitude with his thoughts, but today he brought a little helper.

For the first time, Cade was allowed to help his dad tinker. The young puppet sat on a tall stool, waiting for his dad to give him a task. Unable to keep still in his excitement, Cade fidgeted in place, but kept his hands to himself. He didn't want to touch something he wasn't supposed to and get kicked out on his first real visit to the workshop.

Caine focused on a small actuator, using his own energy to power the tools to construct the piece. He set down one of his tools and held his hand out to Cade. "Hey, be a sport and hand me the soldering needle?"

Cade snapped to attention on the stool and looked around the workbench. "Uh! Um....the sodder needle? This?"

Caine held in his laughter. "That's a wrench."

"Oh, sorry. Is it, uh, this thing?"

Caine snorted. "That's a screwdriver. Are you doing this on purpose?" He teased.

"No! I- I can find it." Cade searched furiously for what he thought could be the tool.

Caine picked up the tool that was right next to him. "This one, champ. It's pointy, like a needle."

"Oh." Cade sat back down and crossed his arms in a huff.

Caine pat Cade on the head. "Don't worry about it. You'll hand me the next one." He went back to the project at hand. Blue electric energy flowed through the tool, creating a tiny arc and soldering small parts in place.

Cade watched his dad with wide eyed fascination. The power of soul magic so effortlessly wielded was what he hoped to one day achieve. It was the coolest thing in the world. "How do you do that?"

"Do what, son?" Caine asked without looking up.

"What you're doing. The blue light. How do you make that do what you wanted to do?"

Caine stopped, contemplating how to explain soul magic in a way Cade would understand. "Your soul magic is an extension of your will. If you want something bad enough, you can make it happen. I want to power these tools to help me build the actuator. So I make it happen."

"But...how?" Cade featured with his hands in confusion.

"Practice. You have to really dig deep down inside yourself and find the inner strength to mold reality to your will."

"Wow. Sounds hard."

"Sometimes it is. Like I said, practice. Here," Caine picked up a spare lightbulb from a parts box. He held it by the conductive metal and it glowed bright blue in his fingers. "This is a very simple exercise. Will your energy to flow through the lightbulb to make it glow. Careful not to squeeze it too hard."

"Okay!" Cade held the lightbulb with both hands and stared at it without blinking.

Caine watched for a moment before going back to what he was doing. He finished the actuator and moved on to another part of the project at the workbench. "Your new toy is coming along nicely-"

"SHHH!" Cade shushed dramatically.

"Sorry." Caine said, smiling to himself.

Several minutes went by. Cade narrowed his drying eyes at the lightbulb. He wanted it to work! His dad made it look so easy. He twisted and turned the bulb. He changed hands. He tried everything he could think of. "Ugh! What am I doing wrong?"

"You're reaching with the wrong part." Caine turned on his stool to face Cade.

"Huh..?"

"Soul magic doesn't come from the hands. It comes from the heart." Caine pressed his fingertip to Cade's chest. "That is where all of you lives. To use soul magic, you have to reach out."

"Reach out..." Cade stared at the bulb again, even harder. "Reach. Out."

The bulb flickered yellow for less than a second. Cade dropped the bulb from being startled, but Caine caught it.

"You did it!" Caine stood and lifted Cade off his stool in celebration. "You actually did it! That's incredible!"

"I- I did it!? Wow! Can I show mom??" Cade wiggled in his dad's arms.

"Yeah! Let's go!" Caine rushed out of the room with Cade on his hip. "Pomni, dear!! You have to come see this!"

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc caine #tadc fanfiction #harlequin cade #harlequin au #tadc harlequin au #tadc au

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rosyrosethings · 2 days

Text

KIng Harry and The Nanny p2

this is part 2 of Harry and the nanny. you don't have to read part 1. This is just another part of the story.

Warning: smut, fluff, blow job,

Harry's heart raced like a teenage boy's when he was near her. Every afternoon, as the children drifted off to sleep, his desire for her became overwhelming and irresistible. He would quietly slip away from his duties as king and pull her into any vacant space they could find - a closet, an unoccupied room - just to indulge in her sweet taste. Even just a simple kiss from her was enough to satisfy his longing. It had been so long since he had felt genuine affection from anyone, and he craved her attention more than anything else. When they were alone, she would always tenderly kiss his head before returning to their daily routines. Harry lived for those moments, cherishing every kiss on his forehead from her. Y/n was well aware of the nature of their relationship; after all, he was the married king and she was only the nanny. But she couldn't deny the intense craving she felt for his touch, his love, anything that came from him.

On this particular Saturday night, Y/n relished in having the day off from her duties and lounged at home with her roommate Bri, unable to shake off thoughts of Harry. Her and Bri set there enjoying there second bottle of wine and each other company.

"Bri its all he doess, doesn't do anything else. He won't even let me touch him." She said, resting on the couch looking at her roomate Bri.

"Maybe he’s like really into pleasing you." She said looking up at her offering her comfort.

"Yea he is but He wants more I could tell. Maybe he just doesn't want me in that way." She said sadly.

"No he wants you. Everyone who sees you wants you in that way." She said looking at her up and down. Y/n laughed

"I am serious bri.." she said laughing

"Maybe hes gay." Bri said, Y/n laughed harder

"Oh please, Bri. He's definitely not gay," Y/n said, rolling her eyes. "You should see the way he looks at me sometimes. It's like he wants to devour me whole."

Bri waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Ooh, sounds steamy. So why don't you make a move then? Take control for once?"

Y/n sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It's not that simple. He's the king, remember? And married. I can't just throw myself at him."

"Why not? Sounds like he's already throwing himself at you every chance he gets," Bri pointed out.

Y/n bit her lip, considering. "I don't know... What if I'm reading too much into it? What if he rejects me?"

Just then, Y/n's phone buzzed with a text.

‘I know it’s your day off but I need to see you.’ -Harry

‘Is everything okay?’ -Y/n

‘I’m just missing you. I’m coming over now.’- Harry

The text threw her for a loop. Y/n immediately shot up and started straightening up the apartment

“Are you okay?” Bri asked watching her jump from place to place erratic cleaning.

“He’s coming over! Bri go to your room. I didn’t tell him i told you. I was supposed to keep the affair a secret.” She said,

Bri's eyes widened in surprise, her mouth forming a perfect O shape. "Wait, what? He's coming here? Now?" She jumped up from the plush couch, scattering scattered items as she grabbed her phone and hastily stuffed them into her bag. "Okay, okay, I'm going." Her voice was strained with excitement and urgency. "But you better tell me everything later!"

As Bri hurried off into her room, Y/n's heart raced with anticipation and nerves. She quickly smoothed down her hair, checking herself in the mirror and straightening her clothes. The doorbell rang just moments later, startling her.

As Y/n's heart raced with anticipation, she reached for the door handle and took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She swung the door open to reveal Harry standing there, his tall frame shrouded in an all-black ensemble. A dark hoodie was pulled up over his head, casting shadows over his face, while large, opaque sunglasses shielded his eyes from view. Despite the darkness surrounding him, Y/n could still feel the intensity of his gaze on her as she stood before him,

"Y/n," he breathed out, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. As soon as he entered, he shed his hood and shades, revealing his mesmerizing green eyes that seemed to intensify upon locking onto hers. In an instant, he had her pressed against the wall, his body flush against hers. His lips crashed onto hers in a passionate kiss that took her breath away. "I couldn't wait to do that," he whispered huskily as he pulled away, leaving Y/n feeling weak at the knees.

"Maybe we should go to my room, don't want to wake my roommate." She said looking up at him. He smiled

"Lead the way love." She smiled at him grabbing his hand leading him to her bedroom. She opened the door to her room quickly closing the door behind him. She immediately started to kiss him again. Softly leading him to her bed. She pushed him down on the mattress. Her standing over him.

"Hoodie off." She demanded, he smiled at her attitude. She wanted to please him for once. He obliged taking off his hoodie. Revealing his bare chest. Y/n sat on his lap straddling him.

"I can't wait to have you in my mouth." He said looking up at her. She kissed his lips.

"Not today I will have you in mines." She said kissing his lips again. She felt him stiffening up at her response. Harry was scared. She pushed him down on her mattress as she kissed his neck.

"What wrong? You don't want me to please you." She asked looking at him propped up on both of her hands. Ge saw the disappointment in her eyes.

"No baby, I just haven't had sex in a long time. I don't want to cum to fast. Just looking at you makes me dick hard. I bust just eating you out. I could imagine how it would be inside you." He said, looking up at her. She pressed down her hips to his. Grinding against his dick which was hard already.

"I don't care if you cum quick. I want you inside me I want to see your face while you're deep in my pussy." She said leaning down to kiss him. His dick twitched at her words. There lips moved against one another her hands made her way down his chest. She sat up taking off her shirt.

She slowly slid off of him, her fingers hooking around the waistband of his black joggers as she helped him remove them. Her hands moved effortlessly, unfastening his pants and revealing a pair of gray briefs underneath. In the dim light, she could see the outline of his strong hips and toned muscles, causing a wave of desire to wash over her. She couldn't resist running her hands along his defined abdomen, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. It was as if she couldn't get enough of him, wanting to explore every inch of his body with her touch.

“Gotta get these off.” A mischievous smile played on her lips as she reached for the waistband of his gray briefs. With a teasing tug, she pulled them down, revealing his eager arousal that pressed against his stomach. She gazed at it with a lust in her eyes, knowing that she was in full control of his pleasure. Her hand went him. Harry sighed in relief. Its been so long since he's been pleasured. Especially like this. Her hands went up and down his shaft.

“I’m gonna put you in my mouth now.” Her words dripped seductively from her lips as she looked up at Harry, her hand wrapped tightly around him. A feeling of pure ecstasy coursed through his body at the mere touch of her fingers. She placed a soft kiss on the tip before swirling her tongue around it, sending shivers down his spine. He struggled to hold back, determined not to reach his peak too soon in this blissful moment. But every sensation she created was like fire, filling him with an overwhelming desire for more. Every part of him wanted to surrender to her and fully give into this pleasure that she so expertly provided.

Y/n continued to pleasure Harry with expertise, her lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to bring him to the edge of ecstasy. She could feel his body tensing beneath her touch, his breath hitching with each movement she made. As she continued to take him deeper into her mouth, she could hear Harry's ragged breathing turning into soft moans of pleasure.

"Oh god, Y/n," Harry groaned, his voice husky with desire. "You're so good at this."

She hummed in response, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine. Encouraged by his praise, she increased the intensity of her movements, determined to make him lose control.

Harry's fingers tangled in her hair, guiding her rhythm as he whispered, "Faster, baby. I need more of you."

Y/n complied eagerly, taking him as deep as she could as she quickened her pace. The sounds of their passion filled the room, mingling with the creak of the bed and Harry's increasingly urgent pleas for more.

"I can't hold back much longer," Harry gasped, his hips bucking involuntarily.

Y/n pulled back slightly, her gaze locking with his before she teased, "Do you want to cum in my mouth, Harry?" Her hand still moving up and down his dick.

His eyes darkened with desire as he nodded eagerly. "Yes, please, Y/n.”

“Do it then.” She said, With a sultry smile before she took him back in fully, using every trick and movement she knew to push him closer to the edge. His dick fully down her throat.

As their connection intensified, Harry's moans grew louder and more desperate, echoing off the walls of the room. Y/n eagerly took him in her mouth, feeling his fingers tightly gripping her hair. With one final deep thrust into her mouth and a guttural groan of euphoria, Harry reached his peak. Y/n greedily swallowed every drop, savoring the taste of him on her tongue. He came with such force that it almost overwhelmed her, but she eagerly lapped up every last bit of his pleasure.

As he came down from his high, Harry gazed up at Y/n with a mix of awe and gratitude. "That was… incredible," he panted, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

Y/n grinned triumphantly before leaning in to press a lingering kiss on his lips. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," she whispered softly against his skin.

Harry wrapped his arms around her. Pulling her close to him. He placed a kiss on her forehead. She looked up him as his hand traced her back

“When was the last time someone pleased you?” Y/n asked, looking up at him.

“Well charlotte is the only woman i have been with and I haven’t did anything with her since…”he said trailing off.

“Wait you’ve only been with charlotte?” She asked a bit shock. Feeling a bit like she took something away from him.

"And you." He said with nonchalant ease, his gaze steady and unwavering. Y/n sat up, her heart racing as she looked down at him. His face was a mixture of vulnerability and strength, making her heart ache for him. "But Charlottes more of a just a duty to my kingdom," he continued, his voice tinged with sadness. "My parents died when I was young, and Charlotte was one of the women they had approved of before their tragic accident. I had to marry quickly because of my impending kingship. But Charlotte was never my true love."

He reached out and gently took her hand, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. Y/n felt her cheeks flush with warmth at his touch and words.

"But then I saw you," he said softly, his eyes shining with fondness. "You took my breath away. You were wearing a black turtleneck sweater with white trousers and black boots, and a black hat to top it off. It was snowing but you were determined to get a picture of the palace for our social media. I happened to look out the window and saw you, and I couldn't help but ask William who the crazy lady outside was."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he remembered that day. "William told me you were American and that you worked on the royal social media team. And then I came downstairs shortly after, and there you were - standing in front of the fireplace in Buckingham Palace. Your hands were clasped in front of you, trying to warm them by the fire. Snowflakes were melting off your coat, but I could see your fingers were freezing cold."

His eyes softened as he recalled his actions that day. "I couldn't resist approaching you with a blanket to wrap around your shoulders. And then you turned and looked at me for the first time - our eyes met and I felt something I had never felt for anyone else.” He said, his green eyes meeting hers.

Y/n felt her heart swell with emotion at Harry's words. She remembered that day vividly - how nervous she had been on her first day working at the palace, how cold she had been after taking photos outside in the snow. And then how her breath had caught in her throat when she turned to see the handsome king offering her a blanket, his green eyes warm with concern.

"I remember," she said softly. "I was so flustered I could barely speak. You were so kind to me."

Harry's thumb stroked her hand gently. "From that moment on, I found myself looking for excuses to be near you. I'd walk through rooms I knew you'd be working in, hoping to catch a glimpse. When the nanny position opened up, I immediately thought of you - selfishly wanting you to be around more often."

Y/n's mind whirled with this newfound knowledge. The pieces of the puzzle were finally starting to come together. "So you're the one who recommended me for the job," she exclaimed, a playful giggle escaping her lips.

A warm smile spread across his face as he replied, "Yes, the best decision I ever made."

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #watermelon sugar #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #fine line #harrys house #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #fanfic #harry styles masterlist

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sugar-crash · 3 days

Text

🏎️Turbo (Wreck-It Ralph) x (gn) Reader🏁

(Confession Edition!)

(Heyyy!! This will be the Pre-RoadBlasters section, I will make a second one for Post-RoadBlasters aka King Candy.)

- Turbo… Where do we start with him?? Oh yeah, he’s obnoxiously overzealous and thinks he has the arcade’s popularity at the palm of his hand when his game was just sooo popular with gamers.

- Which…. True yeah he does for those 5 years, and in between those five years, I don’t think he had a problem with getting what he wanted or at least that’s what he thought.

- I think if he were to ever get feelings for someone besides his lust for being the center of attention, it would frustrate him to no end… Like what do you mean some other game character has gotten his attention so intimately??

- Every win would be noticeably dampened when you weren’t there at the sidelines, and if you had a game of your own meant every day… It aggravates him to no end!

- He’s quick to blame you rather than himself, it can’t possibly be from him— YOU must be doing something, or at least you must know how he feels.

- If you guys are friends already (which… Jesus Christ good on you for being able to withstand his gloating to a degree he deems you as one of his friends) he tries to distance himself from you… The keyword is tries.

- But he’s hook line and sinker at that point and can’t help but go to you and sit next to you, pouting and not explaining himself to you whatsoever.

- I believe after maybe a year or two of this nonsense you or he finally has enough of this and make an uncoordinated move to do something with this feeling towards each other—

- Yelling and flushed faces are involved in the process, mostly on Turbo’s part, and eventually ends with him frantically fleeing the scene after the beans were spilled.

- Tensions are high before and after the obvious is revealed, we do not know much about the twin racers from Turbo Time but we can ascertain that Turbo almost constantly annoyed them by being… Himself.

- When he gets upset everyone gets upset. He makes sure of that.

- They’re constantly sick of his shit. And they don’t need another reason to add to that almost endless list, so, naturally— They forcibly get him to face you again after secretly yet not so secretly moping to himself.

- Bit by bit progress is made… With the racer fighting every second before eventually admitting defeat.

- Though this self-perceived defeat is met with a reward, you, or well rejection if you get fed up enough.

- I think it takes a while for him to admit his feelings verbally once more, far too stubborn for that but it’d take a real brickhead like Ralph (nothing against him, I love that dummy dearly) to not realize there was something there.

- It takes a whole lot of vulnerability and reassurance for Turbo to do it, and when he does he’s quick to say you guys were a thing afterward when you agree (credits to you).

- When it comes to romance, he has his… Moments. Smug that out of everyone else you chose him— “A real winner at life” as he likes to put it.

- To say he’s possessive would be a half-truth, while yeah he does get that twinge of jealousy whenever he sees someone with you, but he knows that your his— Why meddle with your life when he already has such a hold on it?

- Throughout the movie, we see that he has a kind of silent manipulation aspect, which I like to think formulated itself when he went into hiding after the whole RoadBlasters, however you see it earlier on in his Turbo Time days— Though he’s far more impulsive.

- He’s more reckless, unwilling to see that he has things to lose, like his game, his life, and you. He realizes that when it is far too late.

(Tvyl lultplz aohu myplukz

Dpss ol lcly ohcl h tlhuz av hu luk?)

#Spotify #turbo #turbo wreck it ralph #x reader #king candy #king candy x reader

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herbofgraceandpeace · 2 days

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Re: Flavian’s outburst to Christopher about how he (Christopher) has been an unfeeling, stuck-up brat—Flavian’s not exactly right or wrong here. I think Jones is demonstrating that Christopher is so caught up in his (very real) powerlessness to control his situation, he doesn’t realize that he DOES have the power to really and truly hurt others. He’s so caught up in his own misery that he (selfishly) forgets that others might be miserable too.

This is part of growing up! Christopher hasn’t really been taught empathy, and he hasn’t really had it modeled for him either, outside of Tacroy caring for him, but that doesn’t excuse his behavior. He’s so focused on how the people at the castle aren’t caring for his conscious wants that he entirely ignores the ways they ARE intentionally and deliberately attempting to care for him (I think at least a little classism privilege is at play in him ignoring the maids—he’s only ever known his parents’ mistreatment of servants, but presumably he should have been paying attention to how the castle folk treat the maids differently)

However, I think the adults at Chrestomanci Castle are guilty of the exact same kind of blindness and self-focus as Christopher. They HAVEN’T been meeting his needs emotionally (which has led to their inability to physically protect him either), and whatever their intentions throughout his stay, they did not try to get to know or understand Christopher as a person at his arrival, and they’re paying for that first impression. He’s a CHILD. a child from an unloving and neglectful home, who’s just been ripped away from his friends and his home at school, a child’s just DIED for the second time, and he’s a child with hopes and dreams and self-will, all of which have just been casually, thoughtlessly stripped from him. The castle folk are so focused on their OWN need of a successor for Gabriel that they treat Christopher as an object to be formed to meet their needs instead of a person with needs of his own. They’re so focused on their search for the Wraith and the hell he’s wreaking on others that they miss the very real hell they’re imposing on Christopher. All of their attempts at care are based solely on their perception of what he SHOULD need and want because! They never! Ask him! What he needs or wants!!!!!

What’s that post about how some people act like “if you don’t give me the respect I think I deserve as an authority figure, I won’t give you the respect you deserve as a person”? I think that’s basically how the otherwise decent and well-meaning adults of Chrestomanci Castle treat little Christopher Chant. Confident in their own virtue, they presume that of course this boy who doesn’t know them will trust them immediately. Confident in their work for the greater good, they are indifferent to the suffering of the individual before them. It’s clear that they care about him and his well-being, but without treating him like a real person at all, and it’s never more obvious than in the scene where Gabriel takes his spare life away. They are taking tangible, drastic steps to protect him because they are very worried on his behalf, but throughout the whole process they have no real knowledge of the horror and terror he is experiencing because they are too busy making choices for him to ask him why he’s making the choices he does (and again, Christopher doesn’t TRUST them. But they never empathize with him enough to realize that.) Another example is how Miss Rosalie and the others keep chasing Throgmorton away from Christopher when he’s laid up. They’re so focused on how uncomfortable Throgmorton makes them feel that they don’t care at all they’re isolating Christopher and depriving him of his only companionship.

But none of their bad conduct exonerates Christopher of Flavian’s charges of being rude and unfeeling towards them, even though Flavian is STILL presuming to know and understand Christopher’s motivations and choices despite being completely in the dark about them. The very personhood Christopher wants the others to acknowledge in him is the reason that Christopher is responsible for his own actions towards the castle folk.

And that’s the tea on human responsibility in The Lives of Christopher Chant. (thanks for coming to my ted talk)

#I love this book so much but it makes me so fired up lol #I love the way that Diana Wynne Jones has her protagonists realize their flaws and their accountability for them regardless of circumstance #It’s what it means to grow up!#To realize that no matter how you’ve been treated you’re a person with the freedom to make choices #The theme of responsibility for the actions of others in her books is one that I haven’t thought deeply about #But I betcha that would be really interesting too #Anyway #the lives of Christopher Chant #chronicles of chrestomanci #diana wynne jones #chrestomanci #Peace reads books #ranting and raving

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nixie-deangel · 2 days

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me to me, in a stern voice: we don't need another idea to add to the list. do you fucking hear me???? WE DO NOT NEED ANOTHER!!!!

me to me, in a sad voice: okay.....I do hear you....but....🥺🥺🥺🥺 maybe think about hangster breaking up because of Jake's family though? just. just think about this with me. okay?🥺🥺 please?

me to me just giving up: *sigh*..............what's the idea?

me to me about to add yet another WIP to my new list: awesome! okay, so we see a lot about hangster being ex's and breaking up (and who's fault it is varying on the shifting tides of fandom and how we're feeling about characters from moment to moment)

BUT have we thought about Jake's family being the reason for it??? like. okay. Jake's family has so many expectations on who Jake should married, that every time Jake brings Bradley (and for this, we're saying both are stationed in Corpus Christi during this period) and they can't help making snide comments to Bradley about how he's not enough and how Jake won't actually settle for him and how Jake will eventually find someone better and more worthy of the Seresin name.

and well, seriously there is only so much Bradley can take, what with him already feeling not enough and out of place and like he's not deserving of Jake's love and attention and time anyway.

so it's the nail in the road that explodes the tire and sends Bradley careening into breaking them up and getting as far away as he possible can because yeah, he DOES want Jake to find his happily ever after and get everything he wants and deserves but Bradley cannot be around to witness his future, his heart, finding what he so badly wants for them with someone else.

and then of course the mission happens and it's just an all around mind fuck for Bradley, though it all works out with him and Mav clearing the air and him and Jake somehow finding a tentative friendship once again.

and then weeks later, Javy makes mention Jake is bringing his new boyfriend around to meet them and he wants to make sure Bradley isn't going to cause a scene or be a problem and Bradley can't help haltingly answering that it's okay, that he knew this day would come, that Jake would find someone truly worth him, that his family would love, someone that was truly deserving of Jake's time and love and that he'd get his happily ever after.

only, Bradley starts saying this just as Jake walks in and is floored because how dare Bradley think Jake could ever find his happily ever after when that was Bradley and Bradley walked away from him, from them! but then he latches onto Bradley saying someone deserving of Jake, someone worthy of him, someone his family would accept and love and things start clicking in his head.

and obviously, Jake and Bradley get back together and Jake becomes an unholy terror to his parents and sisters who were part of the problem, who were the match that lit the fire that imploded their relationship.

idk. just. the thought of Jake's family sparking the match and setting the explosion off is tempting. and I can't stop thinking about it when I should really be sleeping right now.

#nixie story ideas #hangster #sereshaw #i know i don't need another one #but I can't get it out of my head #like this is what i get for listening to The Alchemy and Used To Love You Sober back to back #SOMEONE TELL MY BRAIN TO STOP IT #UNTIL WE CAN CLEAR AT LEAST TWO WIPs OFF THE LIST BEFORE WE ADD MORE TO IT!!!#PLEASE!#seresin family ruins sereshaw

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awakenedevildays · 2 days

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Heyy I loved “naps and forgetfulness” and was wondering if you could maybe make a part 2??

「Annoying customers and Star Wars」 Stiles Stilinski x F!reader

I had the most annoying costumer ever at work the other day and I thought of using it as a sequel to this story, I hope you'll like it and thank you so much for requesting, dear, this was so fun to write! 🩷

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

"oh! is that my boyfriend that actually remembered me?!" you ask as you walk out of your working place. Stiles, who's sitting on the drivers seat of his Jeep, looks up from his phone and looks at you with pursued lips and guilty eyes.

"that's me." He laughs as he gets off his car to walk towards you. He is so pretty you can't help but feel a swarm of butterflies in your stomach when he's near enough to grab your cheeks and kiss you lovingly. His lips are on yours for a few seconds before he breaks the kiss with a content hum to grab your waist, "hey pretty, how was your shift?" his eyes, those big brown eyes of his, look at you with such love and adoration that your heart clenches and the tiredness of your four hours shift disappears.

"It was good, but a lady was really rude to me" you say as Stiles guides you towards the other side of the Jeep to open the door for you.

His ears perks up at that, despite the fact that he feels bad when you have a bad shift, he loves to listen about all the dramas "mh? what happened?" He asks as he waits for you to get on the passenger seat before closing the door to jog back to the driver seat.

"oh you got me food from Burger King! thank you Sti'" you say after smelling the delicious smell of burgers in the car and you don't waste time to open the bag to eat right away.

"you're welcome baby, so what happened?" he asks after receiving a so deserved 'thank you' kiss from you.

"Well, first of all, in the busiest day for a restaurant, she didn't book a table and EXPECTED to have one right away!" You start after taking a bite from the hamburger, god, it's so good.

He scoffs "are you serious? that's just stupid, how could she expect for it to be empty on a Friday night?" he says as he starts the engine.

"Right?! so I told her that she and her son would have to wait for at least twenty minutes and she scoffed at me!"

"Unbelievable, and what happened next?" he asks and opens his mouth when you bring a chip close to his mouth.

"When a table finally got freed up she didn't want it because it was too close to the toilets and she didn't want to eat with the door opening and closing repeatedly and people passing every two minutes."

"and let me guess, after that you kindly told her to go fuck herself, right?" he looks at you for a second before looking back at the road as you keep on eating.

"I really wanted to! so I told her that we could've moved the table a bit away from the bathroom and she said it wasn't away enough" you keep on going and feed him another two french fries.

Stiles snorts at that "oh my God, she just wouldn't stop bitching, what a Karen".

"and it isn't even over yet! I tried to give her another table that got freed up in that moment but guess why it wasn't good enough for her?"

"the table cloth wasn't white enough?" he says as he rolls his eyes.

"it was too close to the opened window AND it hadn't been cleared yet and she didn't want to sit in a still unmade table, I mean- the people who were sitting there had just stood up, what did she want me to do?" you add as he stops at a red light and steals another chip.

"oh she's just ridiculous, you should've just kicked her out" he says and you grab his hand to play with it.

"I wish I could've, it took her 30 freaking minutes to choose what to eat because she and her son didnt do anything but looking at their phones and guess what? She wanted to eat the only dish that I told her wasn't available anymore tonight and she whined about it for MINUTES."

"what the hell was wrong with her!?"

"I don't know, it's like she came here to annoy me! I gave her so much attention that I had to ask Logan to cover the other tables I was serving until she was gone." You munch on your almost finished burger.

"I'm sorry baby, you did not deserve that witch."

"I wanted to cry, really. And after they were done eating she didn't even leave a tip, I mean- didn't she see how whiny she was and how patient with her I was?!" you ask while pointing at yourself as Stiles reluctantly moves his hand to use the gear stick.

"what a fucking karen, she's a bitch, I hope she... broke a nail or something" he says as he starts the car again when the light turns green.

"woah, you kiss your dad with that mouth?" you ask sarcastically at his attempts to be 'aggressive' or... whatever that was, he pinches your thigh lightly as response before stealing, again, some of your food... you don't mind though.

"hey! don't act like I couldn't be a bad boy if you wanted me to, I'm pretty badass" he avoids to look at you as he says it, he's so cute that you can't even imagine him as a 'bad boy'.

you snort at that "nah, I'm good with my sweet and cute boyfriend" you comb back his hair as he keeps his eyes on the road.

"yeah? you don't prefer a strong, masculine and very bad boy with a leather jacket and maybe a motorcycle?" he asks as you keep your hand in his hair, he's enjoying all the attentions so much that he could literally purr in content.

"I prefer cute, sarcastic nerds with Jeeps and obsession with star strek" you say as you put back the papers covering the finished burger with your free hand.

"Star Wars, baby" he corrects you for the millionth time as he takes your hand from his head to bite it lightly as to scold you, after all, he already corrected you many, many times.

"yeah, yeah, the same thing" you answer dismissively and Stiles keeps your hand in his on his lap.

He rolls his eyes at your words "it's not the same thing, they're very different."

"I'm not gonna have this conversation with you... again." you answer before he can start his rambling about why the two shows are different (they're not).

"you're just not cultured enough to understand the differences, babe" he says while squeezing your hand. "Can't you see you're embarrassing yourself? you can't go around in this world without knowing the difference! if you could give Star Wars a chan-"

"We're not gonna watch Star Wars!" you state as you start eating the leftover chips.

"But why not!? we've watched Harry Potter a thousands times!" he looks at you with an expression of disbelief and disappointment.

"It's different! Harry Potter is actually entertaining and you love it too." You keep in a laugh.

"yeah, yeah, whatever, you like it because of Harry and your massive crush on him in the fifth and sixth movie" he says just to tease you a bit.

"I- how do you know that?! I never told you-" you're flabbergasted, you didn't think he would actually notice it.

"Oh please! those are the only two movies you watch without looking at the phone even once." Fuck, are you that obvious? His scolding eyes tells you that yes, to him,, at least, you're actually that obvious.

"oh because you definitely don't find Hermione hot in the seventh movie?" you ask already knowing the answer and your boyfriend opens his mouth in shock.

"I can't believe you're calling me out like this" he replies with an embarrassed expression on his face that tells you that you're absolutely right. "but... but what about Darth Vader, baby, he's hot too!"

"who's Dart father? The cute one with curls and blue eyes?"

"Vader, baby and yes, Hayden Christensen." he corrects you... again, he turns towards your house.

"Oh yeah he is so handsome! but I won't watch Star Wars, end of story."

He sighs and looks back at the road "I'm still gonna get you into Star Wars, I don't care if I have to play the 'I'm the man in this relationship' card"

"you would never use that card" you say as a matter of fact and Stiles pursues his lips, got him.

"shut up, woman" he demands but mutters a small 'sorry' right after that makes you giggle lovingly at him.

"So... if we're not gonna watch Star Wars nor Harry Potter what would you like to watch tonight?" you ask to change the subject as you finish the last fries.

He thinks about it for a second, he's not in the mood for a horror movie but he doesn't want to watch another of your rom-com movies either because he'd have to watch his every move to not fall asleep before them even getting to the good part, so he says "let's just watch The Office, okay? there are still some episodes left"

"'kay" you only say as you see your street coming into view.

"God, I'm craving a shower so badly right now" he groans as he parks the Jeep in front of your house, his whole body is still sore after lacrosse practice and he's in dire need of some relaxation time.

"don't tell me, I smell of every type of smell that can be present in a restaurant" you say while getting out of the Jeep.

Stiles chuckles at your words while he exits the car too and follows you to the front door "oh I don't know, you're kind of hot after your shifts at work" he says jokingly as you unlock the door.

"and they say romance is dead" you roll your eyes and let Stiles in after you.

"I know, right?"

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

Harry Potter is underrated in his own saga, and I stand by that.

Hope you enjoyed, recommendations, suggestions and requests are always welcome and open! <3

Do not copy or repost.

#stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski drabble #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf #teen wolf stiles

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