#not trying to credit them but look how it works. if we expect to be able to fight back we have to unite. union is not erasure.

[gojorgeous]

“heatwaves”

pairing: alpha!gojo x omega!fem!reader summary: when a work trip takes you to japan, the last thing you expect is a heatwave... and some guy with blue eyes? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, a/b/o dynamics, no established relationship, dubcon (i feel like it’s always kinda dubcon with a/b/o), p->v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, biting, blood, marking, spit, praise, swearing, pet names (baby/sweetheart/princess), brief mention/implication of pregnancy, knotting, reader gets picked up, reader is american, reader is unaware of their omega status, reader experiences their first heat, reader and satoru “bond” without having a fully conscious conversation, reader and satoru are early twenties. a/n: it's here! somebody spay me. by popular demand i have written alpha!gojo for you all… just a classic reader goes into an accidental heat at work and (x) character happens to be the nearest alpha LMAO. this is entirely uncreative, but i love it for that!!! straight smut with a little plot if you squint hard enough! i hope it lives up to your expectations. find my alpha!geto fic here and find the list of my 1k event fics here. enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. wc: 5k

Nobody ever told you that Japan was so damn hot. 

Hot was not what came to mind when you’d heard you’d be taking a trip to Tokyo. Temples? Sure. Mt. Fuji? Great. Hot? No fucking way. 

But, here you were, boiling away under the sun on what you’d thought would be a fun little work trip. Instead, you were just suffering with every step, trying to listen to what Principal Yaga was saying and failing miserably. 

“These are the sparring courts. No students right now, but they’ll start training within the hour.” 

You rub at the back of your neck, cringing when your palm comes away coated with a thin layer of sweat. Gross. 

You lift your eyes to the sky, wondering how much longer this was going to take. Your little trip to Japan was to organize an exchange program with Jujutsu Tech. Your students had been begging to take a trip to Tokyo, to where their cursed energy would be closer to the source and, consequently, stronger. You had to admit, it was a good idea. A few months spent training here in Japan would do them good. From the moment you’d set foot on Japanese soil, your power had thrummed faster in your veins than ever before. 

Principal Yaga was giving you a tour of the grounds and had sealed your horrible fate when he’d decided to start outside. You barely heard a word the man said. New York was never this hot…

“Are you alright?” You blink, fanning your face as best you can. It provides no relief. God, it felt like the heat was penetrating your fucking bones… 

When your eyes slide to Principal Yaga, you’re surprised to see that he looks genuinely concerned. “Y-yeah.” You blink again, shocked by your own stutter. Maybe you were coming down with something? “I’m fine, just not used to this kind of heat, I guess.” You fan your face again and clench your jaw when it still does nothing. 

Yaga’s brows furrow and you see him glance around, like he’ll find said heat standing next to him. How was he wearing so many layers? 

“How about we head inside and take a break, then? We can continue the tour… later.” You nearly fall to the ground and kiss his feet. Air conditioning is truly God's gift to man… 

You smile and it’s all genuine. “That would be amazing. Thank you.” 

Yaga nods, but you think his eyes linger on you for just a beat too long before he turns. He still looks confused… or maybe flustered? That only leaves you confused. 

You follow after him, each step feeling like you’re sinking deep into cement. You tug at the collar of your shirt, trying to get some ventilation. When you finally reach the building you nearly sigh with relief. Air conditioning… that’ll be good. Just what you need. A few minutes inside and you’ll be good to go. You’ll just have to remember not to wear so many damn layers again when you continue the tour. 

You’re smiling as you step inside, so ready for relief that you’re practically shaking– but relief never comes. Your brows furrow. You brush your arm through the air. It… doesn’t help. It’s strange– you can feel the coolness of the air conditioning, feel it gliding up and across your skin, but the heat doesn’t subside, doesn’t so much as lessen. 

“I trust you know how to find anything you might–” Yaga clears his throat. “Need?” 

 Your brows furrow. He’d shown you all the school’s resources last night and your room was already stocked with food, toiletries, and every other thing you could possibly need. Of course you knew where everything was… 

“Yes… Thank you.” 

Yaga shifts so uncomfortably you think that maybe he’s about to pee his pants. “Right, well, you have my contact information. Let me know if I can be of assistance in connecting you to any… resources.”

You’re more confused now than you were at the start of this conversation. “Right…” 

“Take care.” 

Yaga shoots you one last– worried?- glance and stalks down the hall. You’re left wondering what the hell is happening in his mind and why he seemed so desperate to offer you resources? 

You blink, clearing your mind as best you can, but some sort of fog seems to be settling over your consciousness. Definitely coming down with something, you think. 

You make your way through the halls, steps still feeling suspiciously heavy and heat still radiating off your body. A cold shower. That’ll help. Or so you thought. The further you walk, the more each hallway starts to look like the next. Was it left or right next? Was this hallway always a dead end? Since when was there a bathroom there?

You’re leaning against the wall now, panting. Something is pooling in your gut, something warm and far too intense. Your inner thighs are wet, too. You want to convince yourself it’s sweat, but… you’re horny. More horny than you’ve ever been in your whole damn life. You think you might die if you don’t get some dick in the next ten minutes. What the fuck?

You slide yourself into the next room you see: an empty classroom. Thank fucking god. You grab the back of a chair, hands shaking with how hard you’re gripping the wood. You take a deep breath. You need to get a hold of yourself, need to figure out what the fuck is happening to you.  

You swallow and try your best to think. It’s not without difficulty. Your head feels like somebody’s filled it with glue. It takes a minute for a coherent thought to come through, but when it does, you think it’s a good one. Doctor. 

Yes– you don’t feel well, so obviously a doctor is the correct choice, right? You scramble for your phone in your back pocket but freeze when the brush of your own hand against your ass sends a jolt up your spine. What the fuck is wrong with you? 

Carefully, you extract your phone from your pocket, but it’s too difficult to even remember your fucking passcode. You press your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the overwhelming ache that’s forming between your legs. Something is definitely wrong.

You fumble with your phone, but your hands are shaking so hard it just tumbles to the floor. 

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, fuck, fuck?” 

“Yo, who’s baking cookies in here without me?” 

Your head snaps up and, with some difficulty, your eyes settle on a… man. You suck in a breath. He’s… dazzling. He’s wearing all black, but it’s not a student uniform. One of the teachers that you’ve yet to meet, then. White hair and pale skin contrasts against his clothes, but his eyes are covered by a pair of sunglasses set low on his nose. Even in your delirious state you still have the wherewithal to wonder who the fuck wears sunglasses inside. 

You get a quick look at him before a wave of intense- fuck, desire?- washes over you. You tremble again and shock yourself when a whimper tumbles from your lips. 

“Oh, shit,” you hear him say. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and watch him inhale again– deeply. His lips part. “Oh, shit.”

You clench your jaw and tighten your grip on your chair. Your legs are shaking now– you can barely stand. You squeak pitifully. 

The second the sound leaves your throat you hear footsteps– rapid, hurried, concerned, ones. Warm hands clasp your waist and you cry out at the touch, electricity sparking on your skin. 

“Shhh, it’s okay.” He turns you gently to face him, hands steadying your swaying body. “Who the fuck left you alone in here?” His hand is rubbing soothing circles on your lower back now and you think you’ve never felt something so good in your life. It’s so good that you almost miss what he said. Almost. 

“W-What?” You see his brows furrow as you peek up at him. At this angle you can see under his sunglasses. His eyes are blue. Really fucking blue. You think he might be the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, even with the expression of… anger?- that he’s currently wearing. 

“Whoever he is, I'll kill him.” 

That makes you blink. An extra sliver of clarity opens in your brain. “What are you talking about?”

He tugs you a little closer, wrapping an arm fully around your waist and pressing you up against him. You try to ignore the fact that you love it, that you want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and climb him like a fucking tree. 

“What idiot leaves an omega going into heat?” He’s glaring at the doorway like he’s torn between staying here with you and running after said idiot to pommel him into the ground. 

“‘M not an omega.” The words are out before you’ve even stopped to consider them. It’s true. You’re not an omega. You’re a beta. You’ve always been a beta. You’ve got the little “B” on your ID card to prove it. You were tested at birth, just like everyone else, and even if you really were an omega you would have presented years ago.

He only glances down at you and snorts. “Funny, sweetheart.” His hand is still rubbing those little circles into your back and it’s enough to make that fogginess in your mind grow a little thicker. 

But your fear, your uncertainty outways your instinct. You pound a weak fist against his chest, not to push him away, but to get his attention. He’s still glaring at the doorway like he wants to murder it. 

“‘M serious,” you gasp. “I’m a beta… I don’... know whas’ happenin’… to me.” Each word is a tremendous effort to form. Your tongue seems to have lost its ability to do anything but hang limply. 

That gets his attention. He lifts a hand, gently brushing your hair back from your eyes and then cupping your jaw. “Is this your first heat?” 

You find yourself leaning into his touch despite the fact that you’ve only known him for thirty seconds. Your eyelids flutter. “N-Not a heat… jus’ feel… sick.”

His brows furrow again, deeper this time, and he shakes his head. “How old are you?”

You know why he asks. Most omegas present around eighteen or nineteen. “Older than… nineteen…” You try to laugh, but it only comes out as a whimper.

That answer only serves to make him push closer. You feel his hand trailing down your neck, skimming gently over the skin until he reaches a spot you hadn't even realized was so… sore. You keen at the touch. Fuck, no. There was no way. You had swollen fucking scent glands. 

You try to push away, but he pulls you in, burying his face in your neck. You shudder when he groans. “You smell like a damn bakery exploded,” he chuckles, and the sound is muffled by your skin. When he pulls away he makes it look like the action is physically painful. He cups your face again. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re an omega. If this is your first heat then…” he swallows and your eyes track the bob of his throat. “You’re just a late bloomer, baby.”

You shake your head desperately. It’s just the stupid heatwave. It’s just… hot outside… right? 

You try to think about how this could be possible. It could be that the test you took as a baby was wrong… it happened sometimes. It was rare, but it happened. But if you were an omega, what would have triggered your presentation now? What had changed? 

Your eyes widen. Japan. You’d set foot in fucking Japan. Ever since you’d gotten here, you’d felt power pulsing in your veins. Maybe it hadn’t been just power… 

“N-no–” 

A gentle thumb smooths over your cheek and you meet his eyes again. You shiver when you see a whole lot more black than blue. “You have no alpha?” 

You whimper, leaning into him. Touch me, touch me, touch me, a part of you begs. You shake your head again and a tear slides down your cheek. “No,” you whisper. 

Strong arms slide beneath your knees and you squeak when you’re suddenly suspended in the air. When you glance up he’s grinning triumphantly. “You have one now,” is all he says before he’s carrying you out of the classroom and twisting through the halls. 

Warmth rushes over you at the sensation of being held, and something begs you to give into it, to give into the heat still washing over you, to the throbbing between your legs. You fight it and fight it hard. 

“Where’re we going?” you ask, but your voice is sounding more and more like a whisper. 

His eyes stay focused ahead, even as he presses a comforting kiss to the crown of your head. “Your room, sweetheart.” 

Your brows scrunch. “How d’ you know where–” 

“‘M following your scent, baby.” 

He can do that? You bury your face in his neck, embarrassed, only to be hit by a different scent so delicious your mouth starts watering. You groan. Loudly. There’s a scent pouring from his neck that’s filling your head with memories of spices you can’t name, but suddenly know you love. 

You think you hear him chuckle and then feel a gentle hand on the back of your neck, encouraging you. You snuggle deeper into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and burying your fingers in his hair. Taste him, taste him, taste him your mind chants. It’s too good an offer to deny. You lick a stripe across his skin. 

Your groans are instant. He’s squeezing you closer, leaning into your touch, and you’re pulling him closer. Your fingers curl into his jacket, tugging and tugging. You lick again and now he’s the one groaning. 

“Damn, that feels good,” He sounds as surprised by that fact as you feel. The swaying of his steps comes to a sudden halt. You whine, missing the rocking of his body. “Think we’re here, princess. This it?” His hand is smoothing over your hair, slowly coaxing you away from the curve of his neck. You blink, not wanting to leave the paradise of his scent, but also feeling some overwhelming urge to please him.

Your eyes settle on a door and you recognize a little chip in the wood. You nod. “Mhm.” 

You gasp when his hand grips your hip, wriggling through your pocket until he pulls out a little brass key. 

“Perfect,” he says, and his voice sounds like he’s all too pleased with himself. He shimmies your key in the knob until the lock clicks and then you’re inside. The door slams shut loud enough to make you jump and squeak. 

“Oops, sorry, baby. Guess I’m a little excited, heh.” His hand squeezes your hip soothingly and you mewl at the wave of heat that pulses through you. Your clit throbs almost painfully and you feel something gush onto your thighs. You whimper. 

He inhales. “Oh, shit,” he breathes, and then you’re moving again. He navigates your room like he knows it. He probably does. From what you can tell, most of the rooms at Jujutsu Tech follow a standard layout. He weaves down a hall to the left and then into your bedroom on the right. 

He lays you on the bed gently, tenderly, like he’s afraid you might break if he drops you so much as an inch. “There we go,” he breathes. You can’t deny that it feels good, that it feels right, to be lying on the softness of your mattress, but it’s not enough. 

You claw at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him close. You want something from him, need something, but you can’t name what. You just know that the heat boiling beneath your skin can only be sated by him, that the throbbing between your legs can only be calmed by him. “P-Please,” you whimper. Tears well in your eyes. You need him so bad it physically hurts. 

The smile he gives you is soft and genuine and it takes your breath away. He dips his head and you think you see him slide those sunglasses down his nose and toss them to the side. You don’t pay too close attention, though, because he’s kissing your neck again and your body is screaming with sensation. 

“Aw, I know, baby. Don’ worry. ‘M gonna take care of you now. Jus’ relax.” 

His words spark something in you– your last bit of consciousness. A brief moment of clarity shines through the fog of your mind and you remember what the hell is happening, what the hell you’re doing. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head desperately. No, no, no, this is not happening to you. There’s no way.

“Hey, now. None a’ that.” Fingers clasp your chin, holding you still. When you peek your eyes open, you see that he has in fact removed his sunglasses and that his eyes are more black pupil than dazzling blue. His jaw is clenched and his breathing is heavy. “Don’t try t’ fight it. Jus’ try to enjoy it…” His head dips and suddenly he’s nipping at your scent gland again. 

You thrash and scream, but not in fear or pain. You’ve never felt something so good in your life. Every graze of his teeth feels like heaven. Your skin zings with electricity, sending pulses of pure need straight between your thighs. 

You grab at him, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging him closer. Your chest is heaving when you speak. “Please, p-please-” 

“Shhh…” You think you hear your shirt tearing, but you’re too focused on pulling him closer to care. His tongue licks a stripe up your throat and your eyes roll back. 

You’re sure your shirt is off now. You can feel the cool air, but it does nothing to ease the heat raging inside you, pulsing and pumping through your veins.You feel him tugging at your pants, too, and you try to raise your hips. He only shushes you again. “Jus’ relax. Let me do the work, baby.” 

Your pants are gone in seconds, even without your assistance. So is your bra and then your panties. He tries pulling away to undress himself, but you mewl and his eyes blow even blacker before he’s back over you again. He settles for popping the buttons straight off his shirt and shimmying out of his pants. 

The sight of his bare skin makes you whimper and then you’re clawing at him again, dragging your fingers across his shoulders, over his chest, down his abs. It’s a greedy touch and one that he returns. His palms move along your body, kneading and squeezing at any flesh he can grab. It feels so good that you think you might pass out– but it’s still not enough. Something is still missing. You feel… empty. 

His fingers trace across your stomach and it’s too late to realize what’s happening before he’s circling your clit. You jerk and jolt at the touch, but he presses his chest to yours, pinning you. The throbbing only worsens when his fingers settle into a rhythm. 

Tears leak down your cheeks. It’s too overwhelming. You’re burning– burning from the inside out. The pulsing between your thighs is all-consuming with its intensity, with its-

“Need! N-Need–” you’re crying out, but you don’t even know what to ask for– don’t even know what you need. 

“God, Fuck, I know, princess,” he groans. He licks a long stripe up your neck. “But ‘s your first heat. Gotta–” he has to pause to swallow. He’s panting, now, just as lost as you are, and you get the sense that he’s restraining himself. “Gotta get you ready… go slow.” 

You shake your head. Now, now, now is all you can think. You need him now. “No… please…” You bury your head in his neck and find that spot that’s pouring his spicy scent into the air. Your mouth waters and you lick him, letting your teeth graze his skin.

“Fuck!” He shivers atop you and you feel the pure strength restrained within his muscles. “Fuck- okay. Okay. Relax f’ me, princess.” 

You try, you really do, but your body refuses to do anything but try to pull him closer. You feel his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them up, up, up until they’re pressed tightly to your chest and your feet are dangling on his shoulders. The position makes you whine, feeling more exposed than you ever have before. 

“You on birth control, baby?” 

Your brows furrow. It’s becoming harder and harder to focus on what he’s saying rather than simply the sound of his voice. Were you? You try to think, try to remember through the pit of glue that is your brain. No…

You shake your head. “N-No…” 

There’s a slight pause, a beat of contemplation, and then he’s laughing. “Guess I’m bouta be a daddy then, heh.” He chuckles again and the sound rings through you with a wave of pure bliss. His lips brush your neck again, settling on your pulse and making you whine. “Don’t really mind as long as I get you.” Your head rolls back submissively, exposing your throat. Yes, yes, yes, your mind screams. There’s nothing you want more than that, you think.“Okay, here we go, baby.” 

There’s hardly any more warning. One second you feel him shifting between your thighs and the next he’s pressing inside of you, feeding his cock in inch by inch. The stretch is… delicious. It burns, fuels that fire inside you, but it makes the heat feel more… pleasurable. Your back arches and your head rolls back submissively. 

“Oh, fuck, princess.” His voice has gotten higher, more like a whine than anything else. When you gaze up at him you can see the flush in his cheeks, even through the fog in your mind. More, more, more your mind screams. Or maybe you say it aloud, because more is exactly what he gives you. The second you feel him tucked up against your cervix the second he begins to take you. He sets a pace that is somehow both brutal and gentle, with strokes that rattle your skull and also give you exactly what you need. His hands grip your hips, holding you still to take exactly what he wants to give. His head dips until he has his lips wrapped around your nipple, and his tongue is swirling so deliciously that you can’t help but drag your nails down his back. 

Your body rocks with every thrust, teeth rattling and eyes rolling. The heat inside you grows… tighter, like it’s all pooling to your core, waiting for something you still can’t quite name. 

“N-need…” You don’t know what you need, still. Only that you want to beg for it so badly it hurts. 

His tongue slides away from your nipple, tracing a line up between the valley of your breasts, over your collarbone, before he finally settles on your pulse once again. The nick of his teeth makes something click in your mind. This is what you need. Bite me, bite me, bite. Claim me, claim me, claim me. 

“Yes,” you breathe. Your fingers dig into his scalp, pulling him closer, coaxing his teeth to sink in, to stake their claim. “Oh God, yes. Please.” You sound delirious, you think, but then so does he when he answers. 

“Not yet, princess. Not yet.” His tongue darts out to lick across your neck again and you can only sob. Why not yet? Now, now, now… 

Tightness coils in your muscles, the throb at your core reaching a breaking point. You feel something coming, something like an orgasm but yet also not. You know that when whatever is pooling inside you releases, you will shatter, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be put back together. 

Your nails claw across his back hard enough to draw blood and the action forces out some sort of low grumble from his chest that makes you whimper and melt into the mattress. The tip of his nose draws a line up your throat. “Keep doin’ that, baby. Mark me up.” 

You don’t dare deny him. You scratch at his skin, desperately trying to pull him closer. His thrusts grow faster and your thighs begin to tremble and shake on his shoulders, overwhelmed with the intensity of all you’re feeling. You pull at him, grab at him, thread your fingers through his hair. 

Your body jolts with each thrust and you’re sure you’re going to burst any moment. But you can’t. Not yet. You still need something, something he hasn’t given you yet. He groans and the sound is so delicious that you feel it sliding over your skin and settling in your bones. 

“M’ gonna knot you now, princess,” he breathes. “Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna take care ‘ve you.”

You whimper at his words. You hope they’re true. You don’t think you can take much more of the incessant gnawing of need in your gut. 

“Please…” your voice is hardly more than a whisper. His breath is hot as it shakes against your neck. He’s licking and nipping at you ravenously, like he needs you just as badly, like he wants to claim you as badly as you want to be claimed. 

His thrusts quicken even further and your jaw falls open, neck arching. You don’t think you can hold on much longer. Apparently, neither can he. 

You feel it the moment he starts to swell inside you. It’s perfect, you think. It can’t get better than this– but then it does. 

His teeth graze your throat again, this time a little harsher and with a little more intent. “Mine,” he whispers. The second he bites you everything goes blurry. 

You’re experiencing… heaven. There is a rush of that electricity that buzzes under your skin. It bursts forth and you feel it reaching out, forming a link between the two of you that you know is now impenetrable. It pulses and burns and you can feel him, feel his pleasure, his desire, his need for you and only you– his need to make you his. You think your souls must be blending, merging, with how deep the connection runs. You think you know him, know everything you could possibly ever need to. You know he’s the one. You know he’s yours.

It’s perfect, the way it fulfills every desire you’ve ever had, the way he notches inside your cunt like that’s where he was made to be, the way his teeth clamp around your throat and bond you together forever.

You scream for him, you think, but you can’t tell through the complete and total haze of pleasure. Your walls spasm around him, milking him for every last drop, and you feel the heat of his cum coating your cervix. The heat at your center finally releases, bursting and flooding through you in a way that feels like pure bliss has been injected into your veins. Your thighs quake and tremble with the pure intensity of it all and white spots dot your vision. 

His body is tense above you, shivering with the magnitude of what’s just happened. He’s groaning into your neck, your flesh still clamped between his teeth like he never wants to let go. You’re not sure you ever want him to. 

Your breaths shake in and out, lungs heaving as you finally come down. His knot is still settled deep inside you and with the few strings of consciousness that slowly filter back into your mind you know that he’ll remain there for a while.

His teeth release from your neck with a squelch that you think you would be sickening in any other context, but only makes you whimper at the loss of contact. He only hums and finds your hand, twining your fingers together as he laps at the fresh bite on your throat. It feels… amazing. Not in the way it felt before, like he was licking pure lust straight onto your skin, but more like he’s giving you a comfort you have never known in your life. You feel safe in his arms, like nothing could ever hurt you here. 

His lips press a final kiss to your throat before you feel him shifting. He gently rolls you both onto your sides, getting comfortable and pulling you to his chest while you both wait for the next wave of lust to hit you. It will, you know. Sooner rather than later, too. Your mind has cleared enough to realize what’s happening, what’s to come. You won’t be leaving this room, this bed, for quite some time. 

A gentle hand brushes a sweaty lock of hair from your eyes before it settles on the nape of your neck, massaging the sore muscles there. You sigh and raise your gaze to find him already looking at you, an easy smile on his lips. He has dimples, you realize, and he’s… breathtaking. And now… he’s all yours.

There’s a beat of silence between you, a moment of reconciliation with what’s just happened between you, of what it means. You blink up at him, your lips parting to say something, anything, but instead your brows furrow in thought.

His smile drops instantly. He leans into you, thumb caressing your cheek. “What is it, sweetheart?” 

Your mouth runs dry. You peek up at him from beneath your lashes. “What’s your name?”

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[emmyrosee]

Keiji is absolutely nothing if not an attentive, knowing husband.

He’s good, he’s good at the whole marriage thing, knowing what makes you tic and what makes you purr, your anniversaries and outings and just being an absolute maniac when it comes to knowing all about you.

So imagine your complete, your total, your absolute horrific discovery to find out that today, he’s not home.

There’s no flowers, no note, no chaotic breakfast that Mei insisted on making you with Keiji- she claims today is her favorite holiday- and there’s nothing.

Not one of those things, on this birthday of yours.

To be honest, you don’t really mind, he’s one for… however many years you’ve known him, he was bound to forget it at some point (you certainly know you’ve had a few close calls), it just feels strange to have a birthday just with you and not your loving husband or eager daughter.

You stretch, yawn and slowly get out of bed, making your way to the kitchen to prepare for your day off, eager to spend some time alone and not have to worry about anything until you pick up your four year old.

Who is just as surprised as you at Keiji’s forgetting. Who takes a vendetta against Keiji for forgetting.

“You mean daddy didn’t take care of you today?” She says sadly. “That’s not nice of him…”

You giggle, “it’s okay, it’s just one day, yeah?”

“But!” She whines. “I made you a card! ‘Nd we should have a cake! And a birffday party!”

You shrug as you continue to strap her in, “well, sometimes, things don’t exactly pan out like we’d expect them to. And that’s okay! Besides,” you take out your credit card and flash it to Mei, “now we can have a girls day, yeah? Brag to daddy all about it.”

She beams up at you, and you finish buckling her into her seat.

Nails have been painted, delicious pastries for dessert have been picked, a cake to be baked and decorated has been prettied up, and now, all you can do is wait for Keiji to come home and witness all the fun he’d missed today.

Sure enough, 15:34 rolls around, and Keiji comes through the door, sleepy smile on his face and jacket shrugging off of his shoulders. “Hey, my girls.”

“Hey,” you hum, making your way over to him. You toss your arms around his neck and pucker your lips out for a kiss, which he tenderly returns. “How was work?”

“Exhausting,” he says with a small whine. “So glad to be home with the two loves of my life.” He smiles and kisses you again, only to then make eye contact with his daughter, who eyes him in a scold. He crouches down and reaches out to pinch her cheeks, only for her to dodge him slightly.

“And how’s my favorite little-“

“Hmph!”

Immediately, Keiji is cut off by the sound of your four year old’s disapproval, and he watches with a displeased furrow as she stomps her foot with crossed arms and turns away from him. His jaw is slacked, at the mercy of Mei and your attempts to not cackle out loud.

His eyes, filled with incredulous confusion flick back up to you in search for your assistance in correcting her attitude, but you say nothing. Instead, you place your hands on your hips and look down your nose at him.

He straightened his back and took a deep inhale for patience, “excuse me?”

“I said:” once again, Mei stomps her foot and crosses her arms tighter over her tiny chest, “hmph!”

“Have i upset you, Mei?” He asks, crouching lower to try and get her to open up to him. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

“You should know,” she snips.

God she’s so cute, you could just bite her.

Keiji, right now however, may disagree with that sentiment.

“I don’t think I like this attitude, little miss-“

“Not my fault you didn’t wish mommy happy birffday today!” Mei pouts, and instantly, Keiji’s brows shoot up, from anger to surprise. When he turns to look at you in confirmation, your expression turns from one of amusement, to faux anger to match Mei’s. His gaze softens, and he reaches his hands out to you for your affection.

“R…Really?”

“Really really,” you confirm. “I was super surprised our four year old and Koutarou remembered before you did.”

All the color drains from his face, and for a moment your expression softens as he looks like he’s about to faint right in front of you. “Kou…Koutarou remembered?”

“Honestly all of the Jackals did- Kiyoomi even sent me a card that’s due to come.” The detail, all though a little unnecessary, again makes him deflate, and even if your intentions are cruel, he looks so cute trying to grovel for forgiveness.

“Baby… my love… I’m so, so sorry-“

“You should be,” you huff, crossing your arms dramatically. “It’s a good thing I had Mei to keep me company all day, apparently she’s the only Akaashi who loves me.”

“Yeah!” Mei’s voice echos behind Keiji. It makes him snort and drop his head against your shoulder, palms smoothing up your hips and sides in an attempt to be affectionate, though the action only has you melting into his embrace.

��I’m so sorry,” he hums from your neck, peppering soft kisses along the length. Your breath hitches and your own hands come up to rest on his own shoulders. “Is there anything I can do to make up for it?”

“Absolutely not,” you say, giggling softly when he tenses up, then looking up it you in betrayal. “I want ramen. I want ice cream and chips, and I want to watch classic Disney movies as a family, and I want to do those cute panda face masks Mei got us for our anniversary with Koutarou.”

“Okay… okay I can do that; what kind of chips?”

“All of them.”

“You got it.” With that, Keiji kisses your cheek and quickly turns on his heal to head back out to the corner store to stock up on everything you asked for.

“Mommy?” Mei asks, tugging your pant leg.

“What baby?”

“Are you mad at daddy?”

You smile and ruffle her hair, bending down to pick her up and help you set up the rest of your birthday wishes.

“Couldn’t be mad at daddy even if I wanted to be.”

[enigmatist17]

Continuation/just ideas I have of the Mecha Pilot Jazz Au by @keferon

First part can be found here :)

A03 version -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/60978709

---

No one is really sure what to think when Jazz finally returns to the general populace, the crowded common room he steps into with Prowl at his side going silent at the mech's arrival.

No, not a mech, a frame piloted by an organic Wheeljack swore to the Pit and back was smaller than most of their servos.

"Soooo, what's up?" Jazz leaned against the closest table as Prowl got himself some energon, no longer keeping up the pretense he needed such liquid.

"That's what you have to say?" Starscream gawked from his seat, the seeker looking like he wanted to start dissecting Jazz's mecha as much as pry the pilot out. "Are all organics from your planet this...this flippant?"

"Not really?" Jazz shrugged, glad no one could see the grin on his face when Prowl rejoined him, placing himself between Jazz and everyone else in the room with a minute flick of his doorwings. "Hell, you sound like one of my commanders, he'd be having a fit right about now."

"Rightfully so, I should say." Mirage commented from behind Jazz, the pilot grinning to himself when he turned, only to see what was supposedly a blank wall. "Then again, you seem to be the type of bo - organic to cause mayhem on the regular."

"Human." Jazz could hear more than a few processors whir at the strange term, and after a moment, grabs a seat at the table next to him. "Organic sounds weird to me, so you can call me human or just my name, I'm not picky."

"Human...weird." Jazz isn't sure who spoke as his visor offlined, ensuring his mecha was supported before fully breaking the connection. The entire room went silent when Jazz's chassis made a soft click before opening, noises of alarm escaping vocalizers as they expected to see a spark, wondering what in Primus' name the org - human was thinking when something moved. What should have been a spark chamber was something else entirely, the central interior some sort of piloting seat that housed the human they'd all come to trust and fight alongside, who waved as he undid a harness. Prowl was the only thing stopping the Cybertronians around Jazz from moving any closer, his doorwings up in a sharp V when he carefully placed one of his servos just below Jazz, Mirage shimmering into view on the other side of Jazz's mecha when the human hopped onto the limb.

"Hey, fellas." Prowl kept his hold on Jazz as he stepped back from the temporarily deactivated suit, setting him on the table's surface as carefully as possible. "Aw, thanks Prowler!"

"You look strange for an organic." Thundercracker tilted his helm slightly, wanting a closer look but not stupid enough to test how close he could actually get.

"I guess?" Jazz reached up to unlatch his helmet, biting back a laugh when there were a few surprised vents at the reveal of his hair. "Back home, I'd say I'm about the best we humans can look."

"With an ego to match." Mirage cycled his optics with a smirk, eyeing his friend curiously while keeping himself between any bot stupid enough to try and sneak up on Prowl's blindside. "Your frame suits you."

"And don't I know it." Jazz winked, setting his helmet on the table by his feet. "Man, you guys are just...so much bigger in person. I mean I know you are, it's just weird ta see it with my own eyes, er optics."

"Trust me, it's weird for us too." Sideswipe commented from his spot among the crowd, amused more than anything when the inevitable questions started pouring in. To his credit, Jazz tries to answer some of them, but he steps back when Prowl draws himself to his full height and silences almost everyone when he crosses his arms, smiling to himself when the bot speaks.

"If you have any further questions, you can ask them another time, most of you are late for your assigned duty shifts, Jazz included."

"Ya wound me Prowler!" The human let out a whine at the supposed betrayal, but the grin never left his face as he turned to his mecha. "I guess I could get movin', don't want to keep Brawn too late."

"Indeed." Prowl offered his servo once more, aware of the many prying optics watching as Jazz hopped onto his palm, slipping his strange helm covering back on as he was safely delivered back to his larger frame. They watched Jazz buckle himself back into the harness within the spa - piloting chamber, the chassis closing up when something connected with the back of his helm covering, the visor on the frame they were all accustomed to lighting up with a slight hum.

"Fun time's over." Jazz waved his servo, everyone murmuring to each other while they slowly dispersed. "Man that was fun."

"You find most activities fun, dangerous or otherwise." Prowl shook his helm in exasperation as Jazz laughed, the human leaning over to gently bonk his helm against Prowl's.

"I'll see you later, gorgeous." With that Jazz sweeps out of the room, Prowl watching him go with a look that made Mirage do a double take.

"You definitely chose someone...interesting." The saboteur chuckled, saving the image of a soft smile on Prowl's face for some future use.

"So I have..."

---

Jazz had wondered what Prowl's face felt like from the moment the met, in awe at how the metal creased and smoothed out much like his own skin did. Would it be cold and stiff, or warm and pliable? Ah the thought plagued him from time to time, becoming worse when he fell for said mech.

So, when he comes across Prowl asleep (no recharge) at his desk, a data pad clutched in his clawed hands, Jazz grins. Locking the door to Prowl's office, more for the tactician's peace of mind than his own, Jazz quietly grabs the only other chair in the room and sets it down on the other side of Prowl's desk, resting one arm on top of the table. Prowl is still asleep when Jazz powers down the link with his mecha, shivering at the sensation of becoming so small before slowly unbuckling himself, setting his helmet aside before starting the (admittedly) long journey across the room. Thankfully his magnetic lock boots made his journey down the arm of his faithful mecha relatively safe, staring up at his boyfriend (boybot? Ugh no, no way in hell) with an amused smile.

"Always gonna be the smallest huh?"

Now, here comes the hard part, one that could end up getting him flung across the room or smashed into paste if he triggered the wrong response from his sleeping partner. Okay, deep breath, and with a quick crossing of his fingers, Jazz activated the magnetics in his gloves before placing them on Prowl's arm as a test run. One doorwing twitched at the initial contact, but Prowl remained still, and with a deep breath Jazz started climbing, climbing up his mech's arm nice and slow. It was a little tricky when he reached Prowl's shoulder, but with a little awkward shuffling and a twist of his upper body, Jazz was within reach of his partner's face.

Now here comes the Hard Part Two: Electric Boogaloo.

It took a few tries to unwrap the base of his glove with his teeth, heart racing when he was only attached to Prowl via his shoes and magnetized knee pads in order to free his hand, but soon he was ready to do the biggest thing he's wanted to since he first laid eyes on Prowl. His hand is shaking slightly, but that doesn't matter when it makes contact with Prowl's cheek, brain short circuiting at how...soft and warm the metal was to his touch. While it didn't exactly move with his touch, Jazz could feel the nanites that were on the outer surface of every Cybertronian react, twitching when he felt a buzzing under his finger tips. He becomes used to the buzz as he takes his time mapping out the dips and curves of Prowl's face, missing the cycling of optics before a loud chirp breaks the silence, Jazz yelping as he jerked back in surprise far enough to detach from Prowl's shoulder. He doesn't fall very far when he lands on a hand (servo dude) with a grunt, Prowl looking worried as Jazz propped himself up on one arm.

"Are you alright?"

"Yep! Next time I need ta clip a harness on you or somethin', don't want to fall again." Jazz waved with his uncovered hand, sitting cross-legged on Prowl's palm. "Saw you asleep, an' I couldn't resist."

"Resist what?" A quick look at his chronometer showed he'd not been asleep too long, optics flickering down to his partner when he felt something strange touch one of his digits.

"This might sound kinda weird, but I've wanted ta touch your face since we met." Jazz had uncovered his second hand and was touching the closest digit, a look he couldn't classify crossing Jazz's face when he gave it a squeeze. "Weird, these are warm, but not as warm as your face."

"Did you enjoy your...examination?" Something fluttered in his spark at the smile Jazz gave him, and once again gave thanks to Primus that he'd been given a chance.

"Mhm! I'd love to again some time, see those pretty lil' optics of yours." Jazz winked, watching doorwings give a full on flutter. "Glad we both agree."

"You shall be the end of me, Jazz." Embarrassment colors Prowl's words as he sits back in his chair, watching Jazz lay back on his palm, hands underneath his head as he sighs happily.

"Your hand is pretty comfy...not a sentence I ever expected to say to my boyfriend, but it is what it is."

"I suppose you shall have to make yourself comfortable then, I still have some reports to finish." Prowl clicked, grabbing the pad he'd been reading before he fell asleep.

"Gives me an excuse to nap then." Jazz moved to remove the outer layer that supported his pedes, his processor supplying the word shoe as Jazz resumed his position with a yawn. "Have fun Prowler."

"Have a pleasant recharge, Jazz."

Jazz doesn't need to know he had already completed his work before his "nap", merely settling in for a novel he'd wanted to get through as his partner slept in his grasp.

[badnewswhatsleft]

rock sound #312 (nov 2024)

transcript below cut:

ROCK SOUND 25 ICON

FALL OUT BOY

A BAND THAT CAPTURED THE HEARTS, MINDS AND HEADPHONES OF A GENERATION OF KIDS WORLDWIDE, FALL OUT BOY UNDOUBTEDLY CHANGED THE LANDSCAPE OF THE ALTERNATIVE SCENE FOREVER, NEVER AFRAID TO EXPERIMENT, TAKE CHANCES AND MAKE BOLD CHOICES AS THEY PUSHED FORWARD. FOLLOWING A SUMMER SPENT EXPLORING THE 'DAYS OF FALL OUT PAST', PATRICK STUMP AND PETE  WENTZ REFLECT ON THEIR PATH FROM POP PUNK, HARDCORE MISFITS TO ALL-CONQUERING, STADIUM-FILLING SONGWRITERS AS THEY ACCEPT THEIR ROCK SOUND 25 ICON AWARD.

WORDS JAMES WILSON-TAYLOR

PHOTOS ELLIOTT INGHAM

Let's begin with your most recent performance which was at When We Were Young festival in Las Vegas. It was such a special weekend, how are you reflecting on that moment?

PATRICK: It's wild, because the band, I think, is going on 23 years now, which really came as a surprise to me. I know it's this thing that old people always say, 'Man, it really goes by so fast', but then it happens to you and you're just taken aback. There were so many times throughout the weekend, every 10 minutes, where I'd turn around and see somebody and be like, 'Holy shit, I haven't seen you in 18 years', or something crazy like that. It was hard not to have a good time. When I was going up to perform with Motion City Soundtrack, which was an exciting thing in itself, I turn around and Bayside is there. And I haven't seen Bayside since we toured with them. God, I don't remember when that was, you know? So there was so much of that. You couldn't help but have a good time.

PETE: I mean, that's an insane festival, right? When they announce it, it looks fake every time. The lineup looks like some kid drew it on their folder at school. For our band, the thing that's a little weird, I think, is that by deciding to change between every album, and then we had the three year break which caused another big time jump, I think that it would be hard for us to focus on one album for that show. We're a band where our fans will debate the best record. So it was amazing that we were able to look backwards and try to build this show that would go through all the eras - nod to Taylor obviously on that one. But it's also an insane idea to take a show that should really be put on for one weekend in a theatre and then try to take it around the world at festivals. The whole time on stage for this particular show production, I'm just like 'Is this thing going to go on time?' Because if the whole thing is working totally flawlessly, it just barely works, you know what I mean? So I give a lot of credit to our crew for doing that, because it's not really a rock show. I know we play rock music and it's a rock festival, but the show itself is not really a rock production, and our crew does a very good job of bending that to fit within the medium.

That show allows you to nod to the past but without falling fully into nostalgia. You are still pushing the band into newer places within it.

PATRICK: That's always been a central thing. We're a weird band, because a lot of bands I know went through a period of rejecting their past, and frankly, I encounter this thing a lot, where people have expected that we stopped interacting with older material. But we always maintained a connection with a lot of the older music. We still close with 'Saturday'. So for us, it was never about letting go of the past. It was about bringing that along with you wherever you go. I'm still the same weird little guy that likes too much music to really pin down. It's just that I've carried that with me through all the different things that I've done and that the band has done. So for us, in terms of going forward and playing new stuff, that's always the thing that's important to me; that there should be new stuff to propel it. I never wanted to be an artist that just gave up on new music and went out and played the hits and collected the check and moved on. It's all got to be creative. That's why I do it. I want to make new music. That's always why I do it. So something like When We Were Young is kind of odd really. It's an odd fit for that, because it's nostalgic, which is not really my vibe all that much. But I found a lot of nostalgia in it. I found a lot of value in looking back and going 'Wow, this was really cool. It was amazing that we did this, that we all did this'. That scene of bands, we're all old now, but it has taken off into such a moment culturally that people can point to.

Let's jump all the way back to the first ever Fall Out Boy show. There is very little evidence of it available online but what are your memories of that performance?

PATRICK: So the very first Fall Out Boy show was at DePaul University in a fancy looking dining hall. I actually applied to DePaul, but I never went there because the band went on tour. I think there were only two or three other bands. One was a band called Stillwell, who were kind of a math rock emo band, and then this heavier, more metallic band. And then we were there, and we had a guitar player, John Flamandan, who I have not seen since that show. He was only in the band for a week or two, and we were still figuring ourselves out. We had three songs and I had never sung before in front of people. I did a talent show at school one time when I was a kid and theatre kind of stuff where you would sing, but it was more in that context. And I was also a kid too. This was the first time ever that I'm the singer for a band and I was fucking terrified. We had a drummer named Ben Rose, really great guy. I haven't seen Ben in a million years, either, but we were still figuring ourselves out. The other thing is that all of us, with me being the exception, were in other bands, and all of our other bands were better than Fall Out Boy was. We were very sloppy and didn't know what we were doing, and so I don't think any of us really took it seriously. But there was a thing that was really funny about it, where even though we kind of thought we sucked, and even though we weren't really focusing on it, we had a lot of fun with each other. We enjoyed trying this other thing, because we were hardcore kids, and we were not the pop punk kids and the pop punk bands in town, that was like 'the thing', and we were not really welcome in that. There was a fun in trying to figure out how to make melodic and pop music when we really didn't have any history with that. It was very obvious that we didn't know what we were doing at the beginning.

So when did it begin to feel like things were finally clicking? When did you find your roles and what you wanted the band to be? 

PETE: In regards to the music, I liked Fall Out boy, way before I probably should have. I remember playing the early demos and it giving me a feeling that I hadn't felt with any of the other bands that I had been in. Now, looking back on it, I might have been a tad early on that. Then as far as the roles, I think that they've been carving themselves out over time. We've always allowed ourselves to gravitate to our strengths. Between me and Patrick, we'd probably make one great, atypical rock artist if we were one person. Because our strengths are things that the other doesn't love as much. But I think that what has happened more is it's less of a fight now and there's more trust. We have a trust with each other. There's things that Patrick will play for me or explain to me, and I don't even really need him to explain it, because I trust him. I may not totally understand it, but I trust him as an artist. On the other side of that, it's also very nice to have someone who can veto your idea, you know what I mean? It's nice to have those kind of checks and balances.

PATRICK: I had been in this band called Patterson, and all three of the other guys sang in kind of a gravelly, Hot Water Music vibe. I was not intending to be a singer, but I would try and sing backups and, it wasn't a criticism, but there was this vibe that, while I could do the gravelly thing, my voice was coming through and it didn't fit. It was too pretty and that became a thing I was kind of embarrassed of. So when Fall Out Boy started, I was actively trying to disguise that and mute it and hide behind affectation. Pete would really push me to stretch my vowels because that was in vogue in pop punk at the time. There were all these different ways that we were trying to suppress me, musically, because we were just trying to figure out how to do the things that the bands we liked did. But that wasn't really us, you know? It's really funny, because 'Take This To Your Grave' was recorded in three sections, about six months apart. Over the course of that time, I can hear us figuring it out. I think a really defining moment for me was 'Saturday', because I am not brave, I am not a bold person, and I do not put myself out there. When I was showing the band 'Saturday', we were jamming on the bit after the second chorus, and I was mumbling around, just mucking my way through it, and I did the falsetto thing. I didn't think anyone could hear me over us bashing around in Joe's parents house in this tiny little room. But Pete stopped, and he goes, 'Do that again'. I was so terrified of doing that in front of these guys, because you gotta remember, I was incredibly shy, but also a drummer. I'd never sung in front of anyone before, and now I'm singing in a band and I'm certainly not going to take chances. So I thought the falsetto thing was really not going to happen, but when I did it, there was this really funny thing. Somehow that song clicked, and it opened up this door for us where we do something different than everybody else. We were aiming to be a pop punk or hardcore band, but we found this thing that felt more natural to me.

As you embarked on Warped Tour, simultaneously you were finding this huge level of pop and mainstream success. How was it navigating and finding your way through those two very different spaces?

PATRICK: I used to work at a used record store and what shows up is all the records after their success. So I got really acquainted and really comfortable with and prepared for the idea of musical failure. I just wanted to do it because I enjoyed doing it. But in terms of planning one's life, I was certain that I would, at most, get to put out a record and then have to go to school when it didn't work out. My parents were very cautious. I said to them after 'Take This To Your Grave' came out that I'm gonna see where this goes, because I didn't expect to be on a label and get to tour. I'm gonna give it a semester, and then it will almost certainly fail, and then after it fails, I'll go to school. And then it didn't fail. Warped Tour was very crazy too, I was talking about this at When We Were Young with My Chem. Both of us were these little shit bands that no one cared about when we booked the tour. Then we got to the tour, and all these people were showing up for us, way more than we expected, way more than Warped Tour expected. So Warped Tour was putting both of us on these little side stages, and the stages would collapse because people were so excited. It was this moment that came out of nowhere all of a sudden. Then we go to Island Records, and I had another conversation with my parents, because every band that I had known up to that point, even the biggest bands in town, they would have their big indie record and then they would go to the major label and drop off the face of the planet forever. So I was certain that was going to happen. I told them again, I'm going to put out this record, and then I'll go to school when this fails. 

PETE: I think that if you really wanted someone to feel like an alien, you would put them on TRL while they were on Warped Tour. You know what I mean? Because it is just bananas. On our bus, the air conditioning didn't work, so we were basically blowing out heat in the summer, but we were just so happy to be on a bus and so happy to be playing shows. You go from that to, two days later, stepping off the bus to brush your teeth and there's a line of people wanting to watch you brush your teeth. In some ways, it was super cool that it was happening with My Chemical Romance too because it didn't feel as random, right? It feels more meant to be. It feels like something is happening. To be on Warped Tour at that time - and if you weren't there, it would be probably hard to imagine, because it's like if Cirque Du Soleil had none of the acrobatics and ran on Monster energy drink. It was a traveling circus, but for it to reach critical mass while we were there, in some ways, was great, because you're not just sitting at home. In between touring, I would come home and I'd be sitting in my bedroom at my parents house. I would think about mortality and the edge of the whole thing and all these existential thoughts you feel when you're by yourself. But on Warped Tour, you go to the signing, you play laser tag, you go to the radio station. So in some ways, it's like you're in this little boot camp, and you don't really even think about anything too much. I guess it was a little bit of a blur.

Pete, when you introduced 'Bang The Doldrums' at When We Were Young, you encouraged the crowd to 'keep making weird shit'. That could almost be a mantra for the band as a whole. Your weirder moments are the ones that made you. Even a song like 'Dance Dance' has a rhythm section you never would have expected to hear on a rock track at that time.

PETE: You know, I just watched 'Joker 2' and I loved it. I do understand why people wouldn't because it subverts the whole thing. It subverts everything about the first one. That's something I've always really loved, when I watch artists who could keep making the same thing, and instead they make something that's challenging to them or challenging to their audience. Sometimes you miss, sometimes you do a big thing and you miss, and we've definitely done that. But I gotta say, all the things that I've really loved about art and music, and that has enriched my life, is when people take chances. You don't get the invention of anything new without that. To not make weird stuff would feel odd, and I personally would much rather lose and miss doing our own thing. To play it safe and cut yourself off around the edges and sand it down and then miss also, those are the worst misses, because you didn't even go big as yourself. This is where we connect with each other, we connect by our flaws and the little weird neuroses that we have. I rarely look at something and go 'Wow, that safe little idea really moved me'. I guess it happens, but I think about this with something like 'Joker 2' where this director was given the keys and you can just do anything. I think a lot of times somebody would just make an expected follow up but some people turn right when they're supposed to turn left. That's always been interesting on an artistic level, but at the same time, I think you're more likely to miss big when you do that.

PATRICK: Going into 'From Under The Cork Tree', I had this sense that this is my only shot. It has already outperformed what I expected. I don't want to be locked into doing the same thing forever, because I know me. I know I'm not Mr. Pop Punk, that's just one of many things I like. So I would be so bummed if for the rest of my life, I had to impersonate myself from when I was 17 and have to live in that forever. So I consciously wanted to put a lot of weird stuff on that record because I thought it was probably my only moment. 'Sugar, We're Goin Down' was a fairly straight ahead pop punk song but even that was weird for us, because it was slow. I remember being really scared about how slow it was, because it's almost mosh tempo for the whole song, which was not anything we had done up to that point. But in every direction, in every song, I was actively trying to push the boundaries as much as I could. 'Dance, Dance' was one of those ones where I was seeing what I can get away with, because I might never get this chance again. We were on tour with a friend's band, and I remember playing the record for them. I remember specifically playing 'Our Lawyer…' that opens the record, which has that 6/8 time feel, and they kind of look at me, like 'What?'. Then I played 'Dance, Dance', and they're like, 'Hey man, you know, whatever works for you. It's been nice knowing you'. But I just knew that, on the off chance that I ended up still being a musician in my 40s, I wanted to still love the music that we made. I didn't want to ever resent it. It's ironic because people say that bands sell out when they don't make the same thing over and over again. But wait a second. Say that again. Think about that.

That attitude seemed to carry directly into 'Infinity On High'. If you may never end up doing this again then let's make sure we bring in the orchestra while we still can... 

PATRICK: That was literally something that I did say to myself this might be the last time, the likelihood is we're going to fail because that's what happens, so this might be the last time that I ever get a chance to have somebody pay for an orchestra and a choir. I always think of The Who when they did 'A Quick One, While He's Away' and there's a part where they go 'cello, cello', because they couldn't afford real cellos, they couldn't afford players. That's what I thought would happen for me in life. So I went in and thought, let's do it all. Let's throw everything at the wall, because there's no chance that it's going to happen again. So many things came together on that record, but I didn't expect it. 'Arms Race' was a very weird song, and I was shocked when management went along with it and had kind of decided that would be the single. I was in disbelief. It did not feel like a single but it worked for us. It was a pretty big song and then 'Thnks Fr Th Mmrs' was easily the big hit off that record. So then we have two hit songs off of an album that I didn't even know would come out at that point. But again, it was very much just about taking the risks and seeing what the hell happened.

As you went on hiatus for a few years, you worked on a number of other creative projects. How did those end up influencing your approach to the band when you returned?

PETE: On the areas of the band where I led, I wanted to be a better leader. When you're younger and you're fighting for your ideas, I don't think that I was the greatest listener. I just wanted to be a better cog in the machine. When you're in a band originally, no one gives you the little band handbook and says 'these are the things you should do', you know? I just wanted to be a better version of who I was in the band. 

PATRICK: There's a combination of things. 'Soul Punk' is a weird record. I love that record but I kind of resent that record for so many things. It's my solo record, but it's also not very me in a lot of ways. I had started with a very odd little art rock record, and then I had some personal tragedies happen. My EP that I put out far out sold expectations so then all of a sudden, Island Records goes, 'Oh, we think this could actually be something we want singles for'. I think we had all expected that I would be putting out a smaller indie record but then all of a sudden they were like 'oh, you could be a pop star'. So then I have to retrofit this art rock record into pop star hit music, and also channel personal tragedy through it. I hadn't ever really been a front man - I'd been a singer, but I hadn't really been a front man, and I hadn't really written lyrics, certainly not introspective, personal lyrics. So that whole record is so strange and muted to me. So I went from that album, which also failed so fucking hard - I should have gone to school after that one. But Pete had reached out to me just as a friend, and said 'I know you're in your own thing right now, and I know that you're not the kind of person that is going to be in my fantasy football league, so I'm not going to see you unless we make music. But you're my buddy, and that kind of bums me out that I don't see you at all, so I guess we have to make music'. I thought that was a fairly convincing pitch. It's true, that was what we do when we hang out - we make music. So we reconvene, and going into it, I had all these lessons that really made me understand Pete better, because Pete is the natural front end person. So many of our arguments and frustrations and the things that we didn't see eye to eye on, I grew to understand having now been in the position of the point man that had to make all the decisions for my solo thing. It really flipped my understanding of why he said the things he would say, or why he did things he would do. I remember early on thinking he was so pushy, but then, in retrospect, you realise he was doing it for a reason. There's so many little things that really changed for me doing 'Soul Punk' that were not musical but were more about how you run a band and how you run a business, that made me understand and respect him a lot more.

What are memories of that initial return and, specifically, that tiny first show back at the Metro venue in Chicago?

PETE: Those first shows were definitely magical because I really wasn't sure that we would be on a stage again together. I don't have as many memories of some of our other first things. We were just talking about Warped Tour, I don't have many memories of those because it is almost wasted on you when it's a blur and there's so many things happening. But with this, I really wanted to not take it for granted and wanted to take in all the moments and have snapshots in our own heads of that show. I did a lot of other art during the time when we were off, everybody did, but there's a magic between the four of us and it was nice to know that it was real. When we got on that stage again at the Metro for the first time, there was something that's just a little different. I can't really put my finger on it, but it makes that art that we were making separately different than all the other stuff.

Musically, as you moved forward, everything sounded much bigger, almost ready for arenas and stadiums. Was that a conscious decision on your part?

PETE: Patrick felt like he was bursting with these ideas. It felt like these had been lying in wait, and they were big, and they were out there, and whether he'd saved them for those records, I don't really know. That's what it felt like to me. With 'Save Rock And Roll', we knew we had basically one shot. There were really three options; you'll have this other period in your career, no one will care or this will be the torch that burns the whole thing down. So we wanted to have it be at least on our terms. Then I think with 'American Beauty...' it was slightly different, because we made that record as fast as we could. We were in a pop sphere. Is there a way for a band to be competitive with DJs and rappers in terms of response time? Are we able to be on the scene and have it happen as quickly? I think it kind of made us insane a little bit. With 'American Beauty…', we really realised that we were not going to walk that same path in pop culture and that we would need to 'Trojan horse' our way into the conversation in some way. So we thought these songs could be played in stadiums, that these songs could be end titles. What are other avenues? Because radio didn't want this right now, so what are other avenues to make it to that conversation? Maybe this is just in my head but I thought 'Uma Thurman' could be a sister song to 'Dance, Dance' or maybe even 'Arms Race' where it is weird but it has pop elements to it.

PATRICK: I had a feeling on 'Save Rock And Roll' that it was kind of disjointed. It was a lot of good songs, but they were all over the place. So when we went into 'American Beauty…', I really wanted to make something cohesive. I do think that record is very coherent and very succinct - you either like it or you don't, and that's pretty much it all the way through. By the time we got to 'MANIA', I had done all this production and I'd started to get into scoring. The band had done so many things and taken so many weird chances that I just felt free to do whatever. At that point, no one's going to disown me if I try something really strange so let's see what happens. 'Young And Menace' was a big part of that experiment. People hate that song, and that's okay. It was meant to be challenging, it's obviously not supposed to be a pop song. It's an abrasive song, it should not have been a single. However, I do think that record should have been more like that. Towards the end of the production, there was this scramble of like, 'Oh, fuck, we have no pop music on this and we need to have singles' and things like that. That took over that record and became the last minute push. I think the last half of that record was recorded in the span of two weeks towards the end of the recording to try and pad it with more pop related songs. I look at that record and think it should have all been 'Young And Menace'. That should have been our 'Kid A' or something. It should have really challenged people.

But we have spoken before about how 'Folie à Deux' found its audience much later. It does feel like something similar is already beginning to happen with 'MANIA'...

PETE: I agree with you, and I think that's a great question, because I always thought like that. There's things that you're not there for, but you wish you were there. I always thought about it when we put out 'MANIA', because I don't know if it's for everyone, but this is your moment where you could change the course of history, you know, this could be your next 'Folie à Deux', which is bizarre because they're completely different records. But it also seems, and I think I have this with films and bands and stuff as well, that while one thing ascends, you see people grab onto the thing that other people wouldn't know, right? It's like me talking about 'Joker 2' - why not talk about the first one? That's the one that everybody likes. Maybe it's contrarian, I don't really know. I just purely like it. I'm sure that's what people say about 'Folie à Deux' and 'MANIA' as well. But there's something in the ascent where people begin to diverge, you are able to separate them and go 'Well, maybe this one's just for me and people like me. I like these other ones that other people talk about, but this one speaks to me'. I think over time, as they separate, the more people are able to say that. And then I can say this, because Patrick does music, I think that sometimes he's early on ideas, and time catches up with it a little bit as well. The ideas, and the guest on the record, they all make a little bit more sense as time goes on.

'MANIA' is almost the first of your albums designed for the streaming era. Everything is so different so people could almost pick and choose their own playlist.

PETE: Of course, you can curate it yourself. That's a great point. I think that the other point that you just made me think of is this was the first time where we realised, well, there's not really gatekeepers. The song will raise its hand, just like exactly what you're saying. So we should have probably just had 'The Last Of The Real Ones' be an early single, because that song was the one that people reacted to. But I think that there was still the old way of thinking in terms of picking the song that we think has the best chance, or whatever. But since then, we've just allowed the songs to dictate what path they take. I think that that's brilliant. If I'd had a chance to do that, curate my own record and pick the Metallica songs or whatever,that would be fantastic. So it was truly a learning experience in the way you release art to me.

PATRICK: After 'MANIA', I realised Fall Out Boy can't be the place for me to try everything. It's just not. We've been around for too long. We've been doing things for too long. It can't be my place to throw everything at the wall. There's too much that I've learned from scoring and from production now to put it all into it. So the scoring thing really became even more necessary. I needed it, emotionally. I needed a place to do everything, to have tubas and learn how to write jazz and how to write for the first trumpet. So then going into 'So Much (For) Stardust', it had the effect of making me more excited about rock music again, because I didn't feel the weight of all of this musical experimentation so I could just enjoy writing a rock song. It's funny, because I think it really grew into that towards the end of writing the record. I'd bet you, if we waited another month, it would probably be all more rock, because I had a rediscovered interest in it.

It's interesting you talk about the enjoyment of rock music again because that joy comes through on 'So Much (For) Stardust' in a major way, particularly on something like the title track. When the four of you all hit those closing harmonies together, especially live, that's a moment where everything feels fully cohesive and together and you can really enjoy yourselves. There's still experimental moments on the album but you guys are in a very confident and comfortable space right now and it definitely shows in the music. 

PATRICK: Yeah, I think that's a great point. When you talk about experimentation too and comfort, that's really the thing isn't it? This is always a thing that bugged me, because I never liked to jam when I was a kid. I really wanted to learn the part, memorise it and play it. Miles Davis was a side man for 20 years before he started doing his thing. You need to learn the shit out of your music theory and your instrument - you need to learn all the rules before you break them. I always had that mindset. But at this point, we as a band have worked with each other so much that now we can fuck around musically in ways that we didn't used to be able to and it's really exciting. There's just so much I notice now. There are ways that we all play that are really hard to describe. I think if you were to pull any one of the four of us out of it, I would really miss it. I would really miss that. It is this kind of alchemy of the way everyone works together. It's confidence, it's also comfort. It's like there's a home to it that I feel works so well. It's how I'm able to sing the way I sing, or it's how Andy's able to play the way he plays. There's something to it. We unlock stuff for each other.

Before we close, we must mention the other big live moment you had this year. You had played at Download Festival before but taking the headline slot, especially given the history of Donington, must have felt extra special. 

PETE: It felt insane. We always have a little bit of nerves about Download, wondering are we heavy enough? To the credit of the fans and the other bands playing, we have always felt so welcomed when we're there. There's very few times where you can look back on a time when... so, if I was a professional baseball player, and I'm throwing a ball against the wall in my parents garage as a kid, I could draw a direct link from the feeling of wanting to do that. I remember watching Metallica videos at Donington and thinking 'I want to be in Metallica at Donington'. That's not exactly how it turned out, but in some ways there is that direct link. On just a personal level, my family came over and got to see the festival. They were wearing the boots and we were in the mud. All this stuff that I would describe to them sounds insane when you tell your family in America - 'It's raining, but people love it'. For them to get to experience that was super special for me as well. We played the biggest production we've ever had and to get to do that there, the whole thing really made my summer.

PATRICK: There's not really words for it. It feels so improbable and so unlikely. Something hit me this last year, this last tour, where I would get out on stage and I'd be like, 'Wait, fucking seriously? People still want to see us and want to hear us?' It feels so strange and surreal. I go home and I'm just some schlubby Dad and I have to take out the compost and I have to remember to run the dishwasher. I live this not very exciting life, and then I get out there at Download and it's all these people. Because I'm naturally kind of shy, for years, I would look down when I played because I was so stressed about what was happening. Confidence and all these have given me a different posture so when I go out there, I can really see it, and it really hits you. Download, like you said, we've done before, but there's something very different about where I am now as a person. So I can really be there. And when you walk out on that stage, it is astounding. It forces you to play better and work harder, because these people waited for us. The show is the audience and your interaction with it. In the same way that the band has this alchemy to it, we can't play a show like that without that audience.

[luveline]

Same hotch sister reader anon here Jade!

I think I have sent this one before like recently only, idk whether you have seen it or not so I will request again

The reader gets injured (I'm a sucker for injury troop) and Aaron and Spencer worry and Spencer also has to lift the reader. Please write if it's not too much 🥺

Aaron tells you two or three times not to do it. “Just wait,” he says, standing behind you with his hands hovering over your back. “Seriously, I’ll ask Morgan.” 

“How can you host the party without glasses?” 

“I can assure you my guests aren’t going to miss a glass of wine for the first ten minutes. Don’t make me grab you.” 

“I can reach!” 

“I can reach, too, it’s not about height, it’s about–” He gasp loudly as your stool wobbles. “Sweetheart, get down. I’m not kidding.” 

You grab the stem of the last glass and pass it down to him. “Stop worrying! I told you I could do it and I did.” 

And you’re right, you passed him each of his glasses without smashing any, as promised. You are not expecting the top of the stool to feel so slippery as you try to get down, nor are you expecting to lean forward and pop your face on the cabinet glass. You whack your chin, lose your footing, and slam down on knee before Aaron can catch you. 

There’s a silence. Two hands on your shoulders. “Honey…” 

“Just say it,” you groan.

“Well, I told you so.” 

The doorbell rings. “Ah, fuck,” you say, curling into yourself as everything throbs. 

“It’s okay, come here.”

“Go get the door.” 

“No, they can wait, just let me help you up.” 

“If you love me, you’ll leave me to die here.” 

The doorbell rings again. “Aaron!” Dave calls from the other side. “Shall we let ourselves in?” 

“It’s locked,” Aaron says to you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You wave him away. Honestly, you’re not okay, having fallen hard enough to knock the wind from yourself and hurt your knees and chin. But you’re happier to recover by yourself before his friends get here and spot you all crumpled. 

The problem arises when you can’t get your knee to listen to you. It tingles painfully. It did take all your weight as you fell, which likely stopped you from breaking your arms, but wasn’t kind to your joint, it seems. You push yourself onto your butt and sit there, unsatisfied, and, embarrassingly, waiting to be rescued. 

Aaron’s kind, thankfully. He takes Dave to the living room, and sends the second arrival your way. 

“You okay?” Spencer asks, frowning at your strange position on the floor. 

You pout at him. “Spencer, I’ve fallen and my knee won’t work.” 

“You fell?” 

Any nonchalance falls away. Spencer scrambles onto his knees beside you to look you over, curls falling from behind his ear into his eyes as he encourages you back. “You fell?” he asks again, confused. 

“Off the stool.” 

“Off the– What were you doing?” 

“Just grabbing the glasses for tonight!”

“Morgan could’ve done that.” 

“Can you please help me up?” you ask, very much wanting to move on. 

Spencer is a slight man. Not without muscle, but also no weightlifter. To his credit, he doesn’t make helping you seem above his abilities as he wraps an arm behind you and tucks the other under your legs. He lifts you enough to get his hand at the small of your back, and you use your now one good leg to stand. 

Spencer manhandles you a little, which is new. Hosts you to the couch, and lets you down gently. He does need a big breath when he’s done, but besides that, he’s like a Prince Charming having rescued you from your own demise. “Okay?” he asks, both hands at your waist. 

“It hurt bad.” 

“Can I see it?” 

By picking you up, he has earned the right to get you undressed, and you tell him so, his cheeks turning pinky-red as he rolls up your jeans. 

“Swollen,” he says. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” You grimace. “I’m so embarrassed I don’t really know what to say. Do you think we can postpone the party?”

Spencer smiles at you, the sort of smile you can only give somebody when you’ve seen almost every part of them, and found yourself still in love by the end of it. He smiles at you like you’re made of pure gold. “You don’t have to say anything. I’m gonna nurse you back to health.” 

“Really?” 

“Of course I am. I’m gonna fix it, but first I was thinking I could kiss your chin better? You have a dark spot coming.” 

You touch it, tender, surprised, “I do?” 

Spencer leans up to peck your chin, just shy of the coming bruise. “You do. I’ll get you some ice.” 

[jjscrybaby]

prompt 66: ‘i smell smoke.’

jj maybank x fem!reader | hurt & comfort | (fire, kie being ur wingwoman, near death experience, cringey confessions bc i am cringe🙂‍↕️)

this is half inspired by another au but i can’t find the writer! if you know lmk so i can give credit!

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

For the first time in weeks everyone had smiles on their faces. It felt like ever since the Pogues got back from ‘Poguelandia’ things have been tense, not just with John B’s father but with the entire group. They haven’t been seeing eye to eye, constant fights and bickering.

Your’s and JJ’s relationship was utterly confusing, things were calm and fun on the island but since you got back his commitment issues have been in full-swing. He refuses to admit his feelings for you, it doesn’t matter that you’re well aware how he feels.

Kie’s ukulele filled the Chateau, John B and Sarah had snuck off to rekindle their relationship in his bedroom, Pope and Cleo were chatting on the couch and you and JJ were sat beside each other struggling to talk.

“Look—” JJ began, letting out a soft sigh.

“Do we have to do this now?” You interrupted. Whatever he was going to say was presumably going to ruin the calm atmosphere you were finally experiencing; and as much as you loved hearing his voice you just weren’t in the mood.

“Uh… no,” he murmured, giving you an awkward smile. He clearly hadn’t been expecting that, and you felt a little guilty.

“It’s not that I don’t want to talk to you, Jayj. I just want to go for a shower, be proper rested for tomorrow, y’know?” You explained softly.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘course,” JJ nodded, looking down at his thighs. “Go shower. We can talk once we’ve got Big John back and got rich as fuck.”

You giggled, giving him a sweet smile as you stood from the couch. You grabbed a towel and made your way into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

JJ sighed as he leaned back, running a hand through his hair. In your defence, he probably was going to just upset you yet again. He desperately wanted to tell you how he felt, but anytime he opened his mouth the words would get caught in his throat and instead he’d make up excuses.

“You know, you’re being ridiculous,” Kiara stated, putting her ukulele down just to shoot him a glare.

“What?” He huffed, looking over at her.

“She loves you, you love her. Stop with the self pity and just let it happen, stop ruining something that’s going to make you the happiest you’ve ever been,” Kiara argued.

He opened his mouth to retaliate, or agree, he hadn’t decided yet, when he stopped. He sniffed the air, eyebrows furrowing. “I smell smoke.”

“What?” She questioned, sniffing the air. “Shit, what is that?”

JJ jumped off the couch and ran to the window, eyes widening as he saw orange flames. “Fire! There’s a fire!”

“What?” Pope exclaimed, jumping up also to run to the blonde’s side.

“Get them!” JJ demanded, pointing to John B’s closed bedroom door. His mind instantly went to you, he ran to the bathroom and banged his fists against the door. “Hey!”

You switched the water off, climbing out of the tub to dress in one of John B’s shirts and your shorts. “What, JJ? I’ll just be a sec—”

“No! There’s a fire! Open the door!” JJ yelled, continuing to hit his knuckles against the wood.

With a panicked look you rushed to the door, trying to pull the lock back; it didn’t budge. It wasn’t unusual for the lock to get stuck, especially recently when it hasn’t been used in over a month. “It’s not opening!”

“Shit,” JJ hissed. “Okay, don’t panic. We’re gonna get you out, okay?”

The more time that passed of you trying to pull on the latch and him throwing his body against the door the hotter the room got. The metal was burning your fingers, smoke filling your lungs as you cried out.

“It’s not working!” You croaked out, pulling your shirt over your mouth.

JJ tried not to let you hear how panicked he was, the tears running down his face as he carried on trying to knock the door down. It was when your coughing started that he freaked out, sobs leaving his mouth as he finally knocked the wood down.

“C’mere, c’mere,” he soothed, grabbing at you to pull you into him.

He held his hand over your mouth and dragged you out the door they’d smashed open to get out, the others were all waiting outside worriedly. You collapsed onto the grass, coughing up a lung as he fell beside you.

“Fuck, you’re okay,” he cried, rubbing your back with one hand whilst the other held your head to his chest.

“I’m okay,” you croaked out, looking up at him. You saw the tear tracks down his face and your eyebrows furrowed in worry. “Are you?”

He didn’t answer with words, instead leant down and pressed his lips to yours. You reciprocated the kiss, smiling against his lips as he held you tightly in his arms. He pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours as he caught his breath.

“I love you,” he whispered, voice breaking with emotion. “I thought I was gonna lose you.”

“You can’t lose me,” you murmured back, wiping a tear with your thumb. “I’m okay, I promise. You saved me.”

“I’ll always save you,” he responded softly.

For the first time he wasn’t afraid to be in love, because he’d felt a fear even worse; the thought of losing you.

[mellowyellow236]

The TWST boys write letters to Yuu/The Prefect!

All of them except for Ortho+Checka are meant to be interpreted as romantic, but many can be interpreted as platonic as well. The reader is gender-neutral, but more feminine adjectives will be used when referring to them. Characters will probably be a bit OOC.

Minor spoilers for their respective books in each section, but I try to keep it as spoiler-free as I can, except for who overbloted. If anyone has any questions or comments, please leave an ask or comment :) All are under the cut.

NRC:

Heartslabyul:  

Riddle Rosehearts - 

My dearest rose, 

You are the loveliest person I have ever known. It is a miracle that you chose to get to know me, and even more so after I hurt you and your friends so deeply. I have made many mistakes, but you, my rose, look past them. I understand that you may choose to go home one day, but even so... 

Please just give me a moment of your time, a fraction of your thoughts, and I’ll be satisfied. Any inch of you that I can get, I want, even if you still believe me a tyrant. If it pleased you- No, if it only made you look my way, I would gladly break any rule of the queen’s or my mother’s. Understand that, my rose, and I am sure you’ll know what remains unsaid in this letter. 

Yours Truly, 

Riddle Rosehearts 

Trey Clover - 

Prefect, 

Hello. I wanted to thank you, first and foremost, for helping out Heartslabyul so much. You’ve been a very good influence on Ace and Duece, and it’s nice to see Cater open up to someone. Not to mention, Riddle’s been improving every day. I can’t even describe how much you’ve helped me... I just hope you know that I’ll always be grateful for what you’ve done. You’re welcome at Heartsabyul at any time. I have some donuts waiting for you if you want. 

From, 

Trey. 

Cater Diamond - 

Prefect, 

Heyyy! Whatcha doing right now? I’m sooooo happy that you came to NRC even if, like, all of the housewarden’s tried to ratio you. I do not subscribe to that, BTW. #NotCool, #Yikes-A-Tron. But,  like... On a more serious note, I am happy that I got to know you. It’s nice to have someone I can just be myself around. No drama, no expectations, just... Yeah. I know that you’re gonna leave at some point, and it’s almost a relief. You’re honest about it, which is something that many can’t say. 

Ugh, that was probs TMI! I’m not trying to trauma dump here, oops. There’s this cute cafe that opened up downtown, totally Magicam-worthy. You wanna meet up there sometime? 

- Cay-cay ♦️  

Ace Trapolla - 

Prefect!! 

I need your help! So, Trein’s got this super hard test coming up on Friday- Like, Riddle-got-a-99-last-year level of hard. Yeah, that’s without the extra credit, but STILL! That’s failure to the tyrant! So, you’ve got to come over to Heartslabyul right now and help me study. Pleaseeeee!!!! I’ll owe you one! 

Oh, and don’t bring Grim. Deuce’s also got plans, there’s no need to ask him. You know, in case that matters to you. 

See ya, 

Ace 

Deuce Spade - 

Dear Prefect, 

Hello, how are you doing? Can you believe that it’s already been so long since we became friends? When we broke that chandelier, I was ready to never talk to you again... But now look at us! I’m on my way to becoming an honor student, and you’re working on finding your way home! I’m happy that you’re going to be able to go soon, I know how bad it feels not to be able to see your family (and probably friends in your case) after so long away, but also sad that you’ll be leaving us. 

I’ve got it! Let’s get your ghost camera, and we’ll take lots of photos of us all over campus! Two of each, so that way no matter what, both of us will always remember what we went through together. That sounds like a good idea, right? 

From, 

Duece 

Savanaclaw: 

Leona Kingscholar - 

Herbivore, 

Hey. You’re an idiot, you know that? You’re stupid and impulsive and don’t know when to quit or give up. That’s why you keep looking for me in the botanical gardens, right? You just don’t know when to stop. I’m sure that you’ll realize I’m not worth your effort soon enough. But until then, you have to come to see me more often. You’re my pillow, I don’t get good enough sleep if you’re not there. 

I’m in the usual place. Get over here as soon as possible. 

- Leona 

Ruggie Bucchi - 

Hiya, Prefect... 

I’ve been thinking, and you should let me come over to Ramshackle and fix the place up for you. No upfront cost, of course, but... I want the right to use the kitchen as I please, whenever I please. 

Why, you’re asking? Shishishi... Not telling. You’ve just got to trust me on this, I’ll make it worth your while. Then again, maybe I’ll just blow the kitchen up and you’ll have to live at Savanclaw again! That’d be fun, huh? 

If you don’t want me to, ya better give up your kitchen for a little while! I’ll get that microwave up and running again in no time.

- Ruggie 

Jack Howl - 

Dear Prefect, 

Hello, have you been feeling alright? I’ve noticed that Crowley isn’t the best provider of food. While on my morning runs, I’ve noticed Grim loudly talking about how he doesn’t have enough tuna. He does it pretty often. So, I’ve thought of a solution; You could try eating breakfast with me. I always get big portions, so you could have some. If you want, I could even try lifting you and carrying you places. I need to get better strength training anyway, and then you’ll have a buddy to get stronger with. It’s always better to have a friend with you. 

From, 

Jack 

Octavinelle: 

Azul Ashengrotto - 

My Pearl, 

Allow me to start this letter by saying that you are truly the crown jewel of my riches and that none can replace your beauty. You are the loveliest, most perfect little pearl, and I adore you with my whole heart. And yet, I cannot seem to convince myself that you feel the same. You say you do, and even if it is a crime to believe your lips hold lies, I cannot believe that to be true. If it was, why? Not just why you would tell me- A scheming man who has hurt you and your friends- that I hold the keys to your heart, but why you would choose what I hold underneath. I’m no good for you in terms of personality or how I look, and yet... You still hold me dear. And for that alone, I want to take you to the Coral Sea where my home lies, but not for a deal this time. Just... Because I want you and my mother in the same place. The two most important people to me meeting... That’s the best thing I can think of, to be honest. 

With Love, 

Azul Ashengrotto 

Jade Leech - 

Dearest Prefect, 

It has come to my attention that you haven’t had a chance to enjoy a proper mushroom dish since arriving in Twisted Wonderland. Now, that will not do for much longer. This letter should contain a box with three containers worth of mushroom dishes. You are to eat them and write back to me with what you thought of each of them. In return, I shall continue to provide you with free food. 

Do be warned, however, that they should all be eaten as fast as possible once you get them in case my brother chooses to throw them out. Also, so that way Grim cannot eat them. I would not recommend it for a cat.

Kind Regards, 

Jade Leech 

Floyd Leech - 

Shrimpy!!!!!! 

You and me. In the courtyard. Now. 

I’m going to squeeze you. 

🐬°˖𓍢✨໋ 🐋✧°.🐟⋆ 

🦐🥢🥢🥢🥢🧨 

I’ll see you later if you want me to or not. 

- Floyd <3333333 

Scarabia: 

Kalim Al-Asim - 

Hello!!!!

I love you!!! I love you, I love you, I love you! You’re the most wonderful person in this school, and you’ve done so much for both me and Jamil! It would be silly for me not to love you. I love how your hair looked in the wind when we went on that carpet ride, I love how you looked in the school’s uniform and how you looked when you tried on my dorms, and I love how you look no matter how you dress because you’re a beautiful person inside and out! I love you, and nothing can change that! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ 

Hugs and kisses, 

Kalim Al-Asim 

P.S. Let’s go on another magic carpet ride soon, okay? I want to show you how pretty the moon looks when it’s full and you’re flying!

Jamil Viper - 

Dear Prefect,

Thank you for saving me when I overblotted. I am aware that what I did was wrong, and I apologize. I hope you can understand where I’m coming from. Either way, I feel as though I must do something more for you to show you that. Please come to Scarabia tonight. I will make you a special dinner if you do. Please, don’t tell Kalim. I want... something special, for the two of us this time. 

See you later, 

Jamil Viper

Pomefiore: 

Vil Schoenheit - 

My Dearest Potato, 

I regret to inform you that you have bewitched me. So much so that I willingly took on a role as a villain in this next movie. The villain falls in love with the hero’s love interest, and then, in a “shocking” turn of events, she chooses the villain to stand by. Of course, they’re both defeated, the hero gets with his childhood friend in some lesson of how love will always be waiting for you, whatever. But I still chose it, even if Neige plays the hero. 

I finally have a love interest, and they remind me of you. You could have stood by his side, you know. You should have. I poisoned him; That action speaks for itself. And yet, you decided to stay with me. Just like how that villain in this story gets the girl the hero originally wanted. 

I’ve won your heart as well, haven’t I? 

Sincerely, 

Vil Schoenheit 

Rook Hunt - 

Trickster, 

Bonjour, mon amour! I could not resist sending you another letter. You see my darling, I long for you like I long for the sunset on a hot day, for an oasis in a desert, for a hint of rain during the dry season, for the sun during the days when it pours. I'd imagine you'd taste like the rain as well, Trickster, and if given the chance, I'd taste again and again, in an attempt to satiate more than just my curiosity. 

Oh, Trickster, have you any idea how you’ve bewitched me? Why, just the sight of you is enough to send me spiraling, wishing for the smallest fraction of a chance that my affections are shared. How cruel is fate, to deny me the right to live and die within your arms? La petite mort would be heaven if it was with you, but death would truly come for me if it wasn’t. 

Je t'aime de tout mon coeur, 

Le Chasseur D'Armour 

Epel Felmeir - 

Prefect, 

I need some help. I found out that milk can make ya grow stronger, and also help you get taller. However, Vil has banned me from drinking it because I drank a carton in two days. Something about it raising my cholesterol or making me break out, I don’t care. So, I need to keep it at Ramshackle. That’s okay with you, right? Well, I sure hope it is, cause it’s getting in there if ya want it to or not! I’ll see ya soon, just make sure it’s in the fridge. I’ll get ya some of my family’s apple juice in return, it’ll be good. I reckon ya liked it last time. 

Epel 

Ignihyde: 

Idia Shroud - 

Prefect, 

Get to my room, and fast. There’s an event taking place, and I need a player two. This one requires another person to be in the same room, so I can’t ask any of my mutuals, and you’re the only one I trust with this. I can’t ask Ortho either, don’t ask why. 

Also I recently got pink lights in my room like those normies. That’s why everything looks kind of pink, it’s not my hair. Just in case you were wondering if I was embarrassed or whatever, you’re wrong. Just get over here ASAP, no time to waste. 

- Gloomurai 

Ortho Shroud - 

Hello, how are you? ( ˵ •̀ ᴗ •́˵) I am very happy to get a chance to talk with you. I have recently learned how to type out these little faces called ‘kaomoji’ that my big brother loves. Here are some of my favorites: 

♡✧( •⌄• ) 

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ 

•ω• 

ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ - This one is a cat! 

I would like to share more with you. Please come to Ignihyde so I can teach you how to get them on your phone as well. I can provide free updates while you’re here if needed. (✿˶◕‿◕˶人◕ᴗ◕✿) 

Sent To: PerfectPrefect@email.com 

Date: XX/XX/XXXX 

Return Email: orthoshroud2@email.com 

Diasomnia: 

Malleus Dracona - 

My Dearest Child Of Man, 

If Longing was painful, how much farther would I have to fall to crash and burn at your feet? The only answer I can give is that I already would have. I would build monuments in your name and would offer you the world and more if only you would say you loved me back. 

Could this be considered love? Could these feelings I hold deep within my heart, only to divulge in the darkest hours of the night with none but the stars and you to bear witness to my passion, be a form of love? Or is this simply my yearning, a longing for your heart, and wanting to have someone to call my own? 

The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that you were the one I wanted next. How I wish I could scream your name from the rooftop, and raise my voice in song only to sing your praises. You have the face of an angel, and I am sure that you must have the mind of one as well, for even if the voices in your head remind you of nothing more than pain and suffering, they have still been able to mold you into the perfection you are today. But maybe you have devils as well, trying to smite you as you sleep, but just as I do all of your angels, I will pick them up and kiss their heads if they are a part of someone I care for so much. You are perfection, Child of Man, and this dragon wishes only to live with the crumbs of affection as my treasures. 

Yours Until The End Of Eternity, 

Prince Malleus Dracona Of Briar Valley Hornton 

Lilia Vanrouge - (Okay so for Lilia I could have SWORN that he calls the prefect ‘Beastie,’ but I can find that nowhere. Literally at all, no one seems to have used it for him, but I know that I’ve seen at least one person do it. I now think that it’s a headcanon thing but I’m not sure, if anyone knows who did this or if it’s canon, please tell me. I’ve been searching for far too long and I am in too deep.)

Beastie, 

Hello, my darling~! I have an easy-peasy little request for you, m’kay? You just need to travel over to Diasomnia, and then... I’ll make you a meal! Malleus has been out trying to find this one gargoyle on campus all day since I brought up wanting to learn a new recipe, and Sebek and Silver both ran off earlier to go help him. I don’t know how to tell them that the gargoyle they’re looking for definitely isn’t at Night Raven College. Raising kids is quite hard, especially when things like this come up... 

But you’ll be there for me, won’t you, Beastie? Pretty please? I’ll see you tonight if you want to, a little date if you feel up to it. Mwah! 

xoxo, 

Lilia 

Silver “Vanrouge” - 

Dear Prefect, 

I had the most wonderful dream. I think I did, at least. I can’t remember it, but I remember how familiar these eyes were, and I knew it was you as soon as I awoke. And I know it's true, that dreams are seldom what they seem... But if I know how you are, then I know what you'll do; You'll look at me the same way you did once upon inside my dreams. And tell me all about the animals that you found with me when I awoke. What I wouldn’t give to hear you tell me about every birdie that comes to me; I’d be willing to fall asleep in the forest every day if only to hear you cooing to the birds when I come to. I wonder if each little bird has someone to sing sweet things to, a little love melody like what I long to play for you one day. Well, either way, I’m growing sleepy now. The effects of my curse will soon be on me once more. I’ll see you either later today or tomorrow, depending on how long I’m asleep. If you need me or simply wish to keep me company, I’m currently resting in the woods. 

Best Wishes, 

Silver 

Sebek Zigvolt - 

HUMAN! 

I have something to show you; A new notebook to be filled, gifted to me by Master Lilia. He said that it is a ‘scrapbook’, which humans fill up with pictures and drawings of themselves and their friends. To fulfill the purpose of this illustrious gift, you must come to Diasomnia at once! You shall be the first of the first years to be added, along with Silver. Prepare enough of those photographs you have to fill half of the book. The other shall be dedicated to Wakasama! 

Sincerely, 

Sebek Zigvolt  

RSA+NBC: 

Che’nya - 

Prefect... 

When are you going to visit RSA, huh? It would be purrr-fect to get a chance to see you again. You’re quite the pretty purr-son, dontcha think? Or maybe I’ll just drop by at the next unbirthday party... Riddle and Trey would like that, but I wonder what you’d think. Hum-hum-hummm... 

Kitty Kisses, 

Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker <3 

Neige Leblanche - (The Reader is called NRC’s ‘princess’ in this one, but not called a woman or anything)

My Dearest, 

Hello! How are you fairing? Have you been doing okay since the VDC? I know that you looked pretty shaken up back then, so I wanted to make sure that you’ve been okay. After all, you’re NRC’s princess! As far as I can tell, anyway. I’m happy that there’s someone around Vil like you, he always looked like he needed a good cheering up. And you’re like a fairytale! Such pretty hair and eyes and skin; Oh, I’d ride away with you on a white horse if I could! 

Ah, that’s odd to say to someone I don’t know very well, isn’t it? I’m sorry, that’s my fault. You still want to be friends, right? If you do, please come visit me at some point. Or, just send me a letter back. I’ll make sure that you get priority over any fan letter. 

Love, 

Neige Leblanche 

Rollo Flamme -

Mon Amour, 

There are times I wish I could tear you down and take you apart only to sew you back together. Rip you to shreds only to tenderly put each piece back where it should be. Drink from you until there's nothing left and then fill you up with all of the love I could offer, make you mine and mine alone. Those greedy thoughts shouldn't even make their way onto this paper, shouldn’t even be in my head, and yet here I am, penning them in a letter never to be sent. 

I truly wish you never see these letters, for I'd hate to be the reason your face turns to disgust, even if for a moment. Of course, I don't regret writing them. You will never read them, after all, but I believe I should get my thoughts out like this rather than bottle them up, lest I do something stupid and let you see them. I pray that you will never have to see me in a state like how I write to you, over my bedside table in the dead of night, eyes barely open and breath still recovering from dreams of a sweeter pleasure than I should sully your name with. 

I mention those dreams I have of you a lot, it seems, although I mean it in the most innocent way possible. Ever since I met you, you've infested my dreams and wormed your way into my heart like a parasite I can't rid myself of. My dreams are all of the sweet moments I have longed for and never gotten. I only have eyes for you, after all, and a saint may never lie with a sinner, lest they become one as well. 

Bonus: 

Checka Kingscholar - 

To Perfect, 

Hello! I am Checka Kingscholar. I am fiv years old. I like my unca. I like my dad and I love my mom. I love you! Goodbye! •ᴗ•

[drdemonprince]

The Barbie Movie is confused -- and it is confused on purpose, because it can't actually acknowledge the role that capitalism and white supremacy play in the patriarchal system that it wants to give itself credit for acknowledging. And so the film introduces patriarchy as a force with no agent or system behind it.

Ken, an oafish goof is able to find the concept of patriarchy and transmit it to the entirety of his society simply by learning about it and speaking about it to his fellow Kens. There is no use of force, no political organizing (notably, the Kens try to take over the political system after they have already taken hold of the culture), no real persuasion even -- simply by hearing about patriarchy the women in Barbieworld somehow become brainwashed by it.

This means we never have to really see the Kens as genuine antagonists, we can still laugh at their bizarrely crammed-together multiple dance numbers and forgive them when they, like the women, are freed of the patriarchy simply by women speaking about the fact that sexism exists. Both the origins of patriarchy and the solution to it is as simple as an individual person telling their story.

The CEOs that run Mattel in the Real World in the film are similarly cartoonish and devoid of real agency. They're even portrayed as generically interested in the idea of Barbie being inspiring to girls. The movie can't even acknowledge their profit motive, and it can't make any of the men running the company look too powerful or even too morally suspect -- but the film does still want to have Barbie encounter sexism in the real world and grapple with the harm "she" (the consumer product, and not the social forces and human beings that created her) has supposedly done.

In the Barbie Movie, patriarchy is a genie in a bottle, and no one is to blame - except maybe Barbie herself, since the movie spends a significant amount of time discussing how she is responsible for giving women unrealistic beauty standards.

And so Barbie is depicted as both sexism's victim and sexism's fault. She's dropped into a patriarchal world that the film acknowledges has a menacing, condescending quality -- but the film can't even have an underlying working theory of where this danger comes from, and who had the power to create this patriarchy in the first place, because that would require being critical of Mattel and capitalism.

And in the film, ultimately the real world with all its flaws and losses and injustices is still preferable to Barbieworld, because you get to have such depth of feeling and experience and you get a vagina, so how bad could really be? And hey, when you think about it, the Barbieworld is just an inversion of the real world, isn't it? A world with women in power is just reverse sexist, so it was justifiable for the Kens to want to take over, and what does it say that all things being equal Barbie still would prefer to leave behind her matriarchy and join the patriarchal capitalist world? That's the real world. Real world is struggle and sexism and loss and pain and capitalism and death and we must accept all of it but it's worth it..

It's not that I'm surprised the film's a clarion call for personal choice white feminism and consumer capitalism. I just expected the call to be a little more seductive or in any way coherent. I wanted to have frothy fun, and instead I was more horrified by the transparency of its manipulation than I was by even the most unsettling moments in Oppenheimer.

[onmyyan]

So I'm imagining a bit of a silly concept, but imagine delivery driver!reader with yanderes Dick and Jason. Like they'll keep ordering from the place reader works in hopes that reader will show up (and she will - your boss got fed up with all the 1 star reviews when anyone other than you shows up) but they act like creeps trying to get you to join in on their movie night or whatever. They totally don't realize they're being creeps, though - this is their darling! They would never scare her! But like reader gets fed up with them "propositioning" her so she has her boss put them on the do not deliver list. The boys are surprised (they knew her boss was sending all those other drivers on purpose! 🙄), but it's nothing a call to Barbara can't fix (she wants to be an Auntie ASAP - platonic yan Barbara, perhaps?)

It starts with a simple delivery to Wayne Manor, one insignificant package set their sights on you, but could you blame them? That smile when you handed Dick the package, the pretty laugh you let out when Jason said something witty, it wasn't their fault you enamored them with a single meeting, and it didn't help when you delivered their second package, about a week after the first, and remember their names, the audacity to do such a thing and not expect them to fall in love.

Anytime someone other than you shows up they're met with the coldest glares, Dick is short with them, no banter no charm, Jason straight up doesn't speak to anyone that isn't you.

They don't start to get creepy until about week three, that's how long their resolve lasts before Dick is inviting you in for a drink, you must be hot in that uniform of yours, why don't you come inside? It's cool in the manor and he's sure your boss wouldn't miss you for a few minutes.

Jason, to his credit, really does try to be casual about his interest, of course it's anything but casual, he pretends to be working on his bike when you come to get his signature, purposely showing off as he takes his time signing, intense blue eyes staring at you with an intensity that made you sweat. He says a pretty girl like you shouldn't have to work so hard, that you should have someone to take care of you, you grit your teeth biting out a smile as you snatch the tablet back as soon as he finishes signing.

It isn't until your latest delivery do you put them on the do not deliver list, as usual they were together when you rang the doorbell, Dick smiles so brightly at you, you'd think you were delivering the stars in a neatly wrapped box. "Hey (y/n)!" He greets you like a long time friend instead of someone you'd only spoken to a handful of times, "You mind bringing that inside?" He asks the question and despite its oddity, you comply bringing the package inside.

Jason closes the door behind you, causing you to jump, when the hell did he get here?

"Good to see you bunny." He was always calling you pet names, far too intimate for your liking, he smirks before taking the box from your hands, his fingers purposely brushing against yours. "You're like a little messenger fairy."

You choose to ignore him, turning to Dick, you hold out the tablet for him to sign. "We'll get to that in a minute- why don't you sit down for a sec?" He sits on the couch patting the spot beside him. "I gotta get back to my route-"

"it's midnight, you guys stop delivering after midnight right?" Jason speaks up causing you to look at him, he looks way too satisfied with himself, catching you in a lie. Feeling trapped you sit on the couch reluctantly. "What's up?" You ask looking between the two, Jason remains standing his beefy arms crossed across his chest. God he made you uneasy.

"we've noticed how hard you've been working lately and since we're friends-" you don't hide the confusion on your face at the proclamation, "-We figured you could use a break." Dick spoke almost as if he was nervous. "Come on bunny, take a load off." Jason finally sat down sandwiching you between the two.

"or- and hear me out on this one, you sign for your package and I leave?" They share a look before Dick is almost sadly signing the tablet. "Well if you ever wanna just chill or something-"

You don't hesitate you leap off the couch and run out the door, heart slamming so hard in your chest you felt the rumble in your throat.

You thought you'd be done with them after putting their names on your company's do not deliver list, and for about a week you are, until they realize what's going on and collectively lose their minds.

Barbara couldn't stand seeing two of her closest friends so down, so unlike themselves, once they explain the situation to her she's quick to act, understanding their... particular intensity when it came to love, and clearly you'd stolen their hearts, she couldn't stand to see them so upset so she quickly devizes a plan to get you back where you belong.

All it takes is hacking into your company's files to find your route and schedule, it's like child's play to her to set up the meeting, she ordered a shit ton of stuff all for you unbeknownst to you of course, all items you'd need for your upcoming vacation, Bruce had a few private islands for situations just like this one, and it be the perfect place for Dick and Jason to break you in. By the time you left the little slice of paradise, you'd be a perfect little darling.

With a smile too pretty for her deeds, she presses confirm on the order and sends a text to the guys.

"Your Darling is approaching with your order."

[milkteabinniechan]

♡Lessons Learned - Hyunjin

MINORS DNI 18+ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: tutor! Hyunjin x fem! reader

summary: if you fail this midterm, you're screwed. Thankfully, your counselor set you up with a tutor who's willing to help you out and he has a very interesting way of rewarding you whenever you answer a question right.

warnings: public sex, fingering, dom/sub dynamic, oral sex (f.rec)

Come on, Ace. You can do it.

You signed up for an introduction to economics class thinking it would be simple. It wasn't what you wanted to do, but you still needed the credit to graduate. You found the number of a tutor on the bulletin board in your common room and decided to give it a call.

“Yeah?” The voice on the other end sounded groggy and irritated.

“Hi! I saw your number and thought that maybe you could tut-”

“What time?” His voice spat at your ear.

“Oh! Uh, I'm free tomorrow afternoon. Does that work? Or we could-”

You were cut off again. He told you to meet him at the University library late afternoon tomorrow. Hwang Hyunjin. What a tool.

The next day you arrived at the library early. You wanted a table by the window and knew how coveted the seating could get. You placed your books around the table and tapped your pencil impatiently against your thigh. Hyunjin showed up exactly when he said he would. He wore glasses and a loose-fitting sweater vest over a short sleeved polo. His hair was messy and unkempt but you couldn't help but notice how incredible he smelled. Like vanilla and fresh cut cedarwood

The two of you met like that for days; with you showing up early and Hyunjin trying to explain the basics of economics. But you couldn't seem to grasp the concept. It was difficult to concentrate when he would lean in close to you, his breath tickling your ear as he spoke.

Come on, Ace. You can do it.

You would bite the eraser of your pencil anxiously. He has to know how gorgeous he was. He has to have girls chasing him all over campus. Sometimes when he would explain a formula or application, you could just stare at his mouth. You would watch his touch flick and bounce as he enunciated his words. Your thighs would squeeze together involuntarily at the thought of his touch moving and twisting around your mouth or your hardened sensitive nipples.

Come on, Ace. You can do it.

Every once and a while you would catch him staring at your breasts. Or he would catch you staring at his hands. More and more tension was building between the two of you without you getting any closer to understanding the assignments.

One day, Hyunjin leaned back in his seat, crossing one leg over the other.

"Well, let's do something a bit... different, shall we? How about we use a more practical application?”

You perked up in your chair and tilted your head curiously.

“What did you have in mind?”

Hyunjin grinned mischievously.

“How about we focus on the concept of supply and demand?” Hyunjin leaned in closer, lowering his voice.

"For instance, if I were to... touch you in places you wouldn't expect, how would you react? Would you push me away, or…?”

Your heart clenched in your chest and your hands gripped the edge of the table.

“I…I guess I don't know what I'd do.” You lied.

“Exactly, you don't know. And that's what makes it so interesting." Hyunjin reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Let's conduct a little experiment. I'll demonstrate the concept of supply and demand, and you can observe and react accordingly.”

Before you could answer him, Hyunjin stood up and walked over to your side of the table, kneeling down in front of you.

"Alright, let's start with the supply side of things.” He placed his hands on your knees and slowly started to push them apart.

"As the supply increases, the demand often increases as well.

You held your breath; quickly looking around the library to see if anyone else had noticed Hyunjin's new position in front of you. Hyunjin grinned wickedly as he continued to push your legs apart, moving his body between them.

"You're blushing. Your breathing is getting faster. See how the demand is rising?” He leaned in closer, his face just inches from yours.

You nod your head slowly, your entire body completely entranced with the feeling of his hands on your thighs. Hyunjin's grin grew wider, his hands continuing their exploration.

"Mmm, the demand is high, isn't it?" His hand slid up further, tracing the edge of your underwear.

"And what if I were to... slip my hand inside? Would you push me away or pull me closer?”

“Closer…” you whispered meekly.

Hyunjin’s hand slipped inside your underwear and his fingers made quick work of gently caressing your most intimate area. He let out a low, satisfied groan as he felt the slick excitement that was already leaking out of you. Hyunjin looked up at you, his grin wicked.

"Look at you... taking it so well. You're a natural, Ace." His fingers continued their rhythm, his pace quickening slightly.

"And now, what if I were to... curve my fingers just…”

He slowly slid his fingers in and out, his thumb gently rubbing that sensitive bundle of nerves as his middle finger curved and curled. Your walls clenched around his slender finger, your hand now clasped like a vice over your mouth.

Hyunjin smirked at your reaction.

"Found your sweet spot, haven't I?" His fingers continued to stroke that spot, his thumb still rubbing your swollen clit.

"And now, if I were to... lean down and lick you while my fingers are inside you…”

Your head shot up and you glared down at him, your face turning redder by the second.

“Here?! Now?!” You growled. You loved how he was making you feel but you had never done anything so public before.

"Yes, here." Hyunjin said firmly, his eyes locked onto yours.

"I'm going to lick your perfect pussy while I finger you, and you're going to let me, aren't you?"

Hyunjin leaned down, his mouth hovering over your clothed folds before pulling your underwear to the side and licking you in one long, sweeping motion.

You moaned softly into your hand. Your body was feeling like it was on fire. Every nerve ending has been activated and needed stimulation. You tried your best to stay still, to make it look like nothing was happening. To convey the facade that this gorgeous man wasn't absolutely devouring you inside a library. The silence around you was glaringly apparent as Hyunjin gently coaxed your clit into his mouth and gently sucked on it. His fingers continued to curl and stroke your needy insides, his other hand still holding your leg in place. He looked up at you, his eyes shining with desire as sucked and pulled hungrily at your slick folds.

"Look at you... so pretty…”

taglist: @simply-trash5 @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics @ell0thebell @stephanieeeyang @juskz @kimahreummm @readr1221 @kayleefriedchicken @ovulatingrn @hwnglixho @darthmaddie25 @queen-in-the-shadows @itgirlalisaa @miinhoo @greyaia @chanchansgirly @skzleeknowcore @skz-smut-reader @thatisrankharry @hearts4yawnzzn @jchotch726 @cherricola-star

[hazelsmirrorball]

PAPER RINGS | Charles Leclerc

SUMMARY: Charles and his long term girlfriend go to the eras tour

FACE CLAIM: Olivia Rodrigo

pairings: Singer Swiftie! Reader x Charles Leclerc

authors note: first formula 1 oneshot! hope you guys enjoy

y/nnn_ just tweeted!

y/n’s instagram post

liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc, and 4,050,245 others

y/n kids, manifestation works! got to meet my one true love today at the eras tour, still can’t believe it.

tagged @taylorswift

view all 5,694 comments

y/nsmirrorball mother is mothering with mother

y/nsferrari i’m sorry but i’m crying this is the y/n x taylor content we needed and craved for years

charles_leclerc you’re one true love? what am i? chopped liver?

→ y/n *your

→ charles_leclerc your digging yourself into a bigger grave, love.

→ landonorris *you’re

carlossainz55 thank you for including me in your date! Never would’ve thought that i would enjoy a third wheeling hangout with you two.

→ y/n what can I say? we are the best throuple

→ charles_leclerc please don't make that a thing

→landosssnorris too late for that

taylorswift I’m glad to meet such a sweet soul as yourself, xoxo.

→ y/n love you love you love you

→ user101 I will forever be jealous of taylor swift

→ charles_leclerc get in line buddy

landonorris next time I expect an invite.

y/nlover i’m sorry but y/n’s the queen of manifestation. not only did she manifest meeting her idiot but also finding her dream man. i need to take notes

charles_leclerc instagram post

liked by y/n, carlossainz55 and 950,078 others

charles_leclerc had fun with my lover at the eras tour.

ps. we got paper rings and daylight as our surprise songs.

tagged @y/n

view all 1,437 comments

y/nandlando omg! the friendship bracelets.

y/nbabes I'm currently screaming, crying, puking.

lalalandy/n seven friendships bracelets makes me want to fall into a ditch and die

charlescruelsummer guys! guys! guys! don't you remembered y/n's tweet?

→ charlesxyn "I'll get engaged if we get paper rings and daylight as our surprise song" @charles_leclerc start finding a ring sir.

carlossainz55 thank you for the photo credits on the last one by the way.

→ charles_leclerc please shut up.

username12 wait! are they dressed up as miss americana and the heartbreak prince?!?!?!!?

→ y/n fuck yes! Best couple outfit for the eras tour.

lewishamilton congrats you two!

→ y/n @lewishamilton thank you lewis!

user123 why is lewis hamilton congratulating them. LEWIS WHAT DO YOU KNOW? Speak now.

y/n love you to the moon and to saturn, charles!

wag.updates just tweeted.

charles.updates just posted.

liked by y/n, landosmirrorball, and others

charlesupdates @taylorswift saw y/n's tweet and choose violence and I'm here for it!

view all 573 comments

user126 like how is it possible that she played those two songs?

verstophim what connection does she have to charles, that's something I want to know.

charlesxy/n taylor is just like us!

user21 omg!!!! y/n liked? What does this mean, please y/n. SPEAK NOW.

user101 she is a mastermind

Y/n slowly walked around the parking lot trying to find their car with Charles and Carlos trailing behind her. If she was being honest, she had a lot of feelings going through her head and the thing she was least worried about was finding the car. A big smile plastered on her face as she saw fans walking out of the stadium in the same condition as her. Y/n let out a laugh as she looked down at her socks remembering that Charles had taken her shoes. All she wanted to do was sit down and process the night she had. She was still on cloud nine, not only did she go to the eras tour with the love of her life and her best friend. Y/n had also met Taylor Swift, she still couldn’t believe it. 

“Did you guys see the way she looked at me? What does she know? What is she hiding? No, because how is it even possible that she sung those two songs? Out of all her discography, Paper Rings and Daylight? Is she dropping an easter egg? Is she playing with me? Are you getting what I’m trying to say?” Y/n rambled while walking faster to the end of the large parking lot. She ran a hand through her hair desperately trying to understand how it was possible that she had not only gone to the Eras tour but gotten those two songs.  

“Y/n” Charles had called for the fifth time in the past minute trying to stop her rant so she would turn around. 

“Not but really, Charles. What do you think? Wait, where's Carlos?” Y/n said turning around to face Charles noticing that Carlos wasn’t next to him. 

“Do you remember your tweet?” Charles asked nervously while slipping his hands on his front pockets swaying back and forth. 

“What tweet? I tweet a lot of things, hun” Y/n asked while furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. She slowly reached for Charles' shoulder, noticing his nerves in an attempt to ease  them. 

“About the surprise songs” Charles responded searching for her eyes. Y/n squeezed his shoulder, sending him a comforting smile. 

“Yeah? I ranted about the surprise songs all the time. Can’t you believe it? Daylight and Paper Rings, insane. Now let’s find Carlos” Y/n responded not getting what Charles was trying to say. 

“Mon Cheri, Taylor played Daylight and Paper Rings” Charles managed to let out a nervous chuckle, getting on one knee on the pavement. 

“Oh” That’s when it clicked. Y/n moved her hands to her lips attempting to cover any noise that would come out of her mouth. Charles with shaky hands took out the red velvet box from his back pocket showing it to her. Tears started flowing from her eyes as she let out a nervous laugh which Charles followed. Y/n slowly bent down to Charles level leaning into him, both of their teary laughs taking over. 

“Y/n L/n, you have been one of my biggest supporters since day one and I am forever grateful for that. You made me the person I am today and I can’t imagine a world without you by my side.  I would spend countless eternities with your love. I really don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you, Y/n. Before I met you I thought love would be black and white but now that I have you I know it’s golden. What I’m trying to say is would you do me the honor of spending an eternity with mon cheri. Y/n L/n, will you marry me?” Charles said in between tears as Y/n gripped on him tightly. She shook her head yes as she handed him her hand which Charles gratefully took, slipping a hand made paper ring. 

“You didn’t”  Y/n laughed while looking at the beautifully done paper ring. Charles smiled back while looking at her proudly. 

“The real ring is at home but I thought the paper ring was better for the occasion” Charles replied while pulling her into a passionate kiss. 

y/n just posted

liked by lewishamilton, landonorris and 1,930,430 more

Y/n Taylor you are a mastermind! Can't believe I got married with paper rings.

tagged: charles_leclerc

user10 OMG OMG OMG FINALLY IM SCREAMING

maxverstappen1 congrats!

landonorris be grateful that i showed him how to do paper rings

user212 my parents are finally getting married

[aventurineswife]

The characters and their reaction to reader who can't cook to save their lives but insisted on cooking something for the character and ends up burning the shit out of the dish. Will they make fun of their partner (reader)? Or take it upon themselves to teach them? (Diluc, Zhongli, jing Yuan, Veritas, Sunday, Kaveh, and Mualani)

Burnt Beginnings, Sweet Endings

Tags: Diluc x Reader, Zhongli x Reader, Jing Yuan x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Kaveh x Reader, Mualani x Reader, Fluff, Humor, Cooking Attempts, Supportive Characters, Relationship Dynamics, Lighthearted Teasing, Growth and Learning, Positive Reinforcement.

Warnings: Mild Embarrassment, Burnt Food (as a source of humor), Light Teasing (in good-natured fun), No serious negative consequences, Non-malicious humor.

It had been a quiet evening at Dawn Winery, and Diluc was taking a break from his duties as the owner of the estate. He had just finished a long day of work, and his mind wandered toward the warmth of a peaceful dinner. As you insisted on cooking for the two of you, he had agreed with a calm smile, secretly wondering how things might turn out.

You set to work in the kitchen, an excited look on your face, determined to surprise him with your culinary skills. Diluc stood nearby, savoring the quiet atmosphere, but his attention flickered to you as the sounds from the kitchen grew louder. The unmistakable scent of something burning reached his nose, and his sharp instincts kicked in. His gaze softened with a mixture of concern and amusement.

As you emerged from the kitchen, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, holding up a charred, smoke-filled dish, Diluc gave you a small, understanding smile.

"I... might need to have a word with the oven," you muttered sheepishly.

Diluc’s voice was calm, his gaze warm and not mocking. “I appreciate the gesture, truly, but it seems our kitchen may be more temperamental than expected. Shall we try again? I’ve always found that patience and attention to detail work wonders in the kitchen.”

His words were kind, and the slight twinkle in his eyes spoke of the patience he had cultivated over the years. He did not mock you, but rather, he took the opportunity to guide you gently through the process, teaching you the subtleties of cooking. As he demonstrated, his hands moved deftly, the precision in his every action matching his calm, decisive nature. You learned under his watchful eye, and before long, the kitchen smelled of something far more appetizing than burnt remnants.

“Next time, we’ll start with something simpler,” Diluc chuckled softly, his smile just a little more playful as you beamed at the freshly cooked meal. He didn’t mock you; instead, he offered support, a quiet sense of pride in your willingness to try, no matter the outcome.

[Header credits]

Zhongli had always been one for history, tradition, and meticulous detail, so when you insisted on cooking for him, he couldn't help but accept. He had often heard of your culinary attempts, with some stories even reaching the esteemed halls of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, but his curiosity had never waned.

He sat gracefully at the table, his eyes following your every move in the kitchen, intrigued by your efforts. However, as time passed, the subtle sound of sizzling from the stove became increasingly alarming. Zhongli’s nostrils flared as the faint scent of smoke began to waft into the dining room. He remained silent, his brow furrowing slightly, but he made no attempt to interfere.

Soon, you entered the dining room, holding up a dish that looked more like an inedible lump than a meal. You placed it down with a sheepish grin, your hands trembling slightly as you spoke, “I… tried my best. I’m not sure what happened…”

Zhongli glanced at the dish, his lips twitching ever so slightly. “It is certainly… unique,” he said, his voice calm, yet there was a noticeable glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

Instead of teasing, Zhongli gave a thoughtful hum, lifting the dish with both hands and inspecting it. “The earth, in all its complexity, is capable of producing both the most refined dishes and those that... might require further effort. Perhaps a lesson is in order.”

His words were gentle, and with a warm smile, Zhongli took the initiative. He guided you through the steps, explaining each one with his usual calm, patient demeanor, taking care not to criticize but to uplift you. His wisdom in cooking, just like in all other things, proved to be an invaluable asset. Together, you prepared a meal that, although simple, was nothing short of delicious.

As the two of you sat down to eat, Zhongli looked at you with a fond smile. “Sometimes, learning requires more than a single attempt,” he said, his amber eyes twinkling. “But I must admit, your determination is one of your finest qualities.”

Jing Yuan was no stranger to handling complex matters, whether on the battlefield or within the quiet halls of the Xianzhou Alliance. So, when you insisted on cooking dinner for him, he accepted, more out of curiosity than expectation. He watched as you moved about the kitchen, his eyes glimmering with interest, though a relaxed, almost lazy air surrounded him. He leaned back in his chair, his usual carefree demeanor on full display.

The smell of burning quickly filled the air, and Jing Yuan’s sharp gaze shifted to the kitchen. He didn’t rush to intervene, instead watching as the blackened dish appeared before him. You sheepishly placed it in front of him with a nervous laugh.

“Well... it seems I might have gone a little too far this time,” you said, your voice tinged with embarrassment.

Jing Yuan stared at the dish, his lips twitching in a barely concealed smile. “It certainly has character,” he remarked, his voice smooth and full of mirth. “It’s not every day you get a dish that looks like it’s been through an ordeal.”

His response was lighthearted, but there was no hint of mockery. Rather, he gave you a lazy smile, his golden eyes full of warmth and amusement.

“You’ve got the spirit, though. That’s something,” Jing Yuan said, standing up. “Now, let’s make sure the next one doesn’t end up as an offering to the Aeons of the Xianzhou.”

Instead of ridiculing you, Jing Yuan took the time to guide you with a calm and humorous approach. He showed you the steps with ease, explaining everything from timing to temperature. As the two of you worked together, it was clear that his leadership skills extended beyond the battlefield and into the kitchen, as he helped you create a dish that was more than just edible.

As you sat down to eat, Jing Yuan gave a playful wink. “I have to admit, your persistence is impressive. We’ll make a chef out of you yet.”

His words were teasing, but the affection and support in his tone showed that he cared more about the effort you put in than the outcome.

Ratio strode into the kitchen, eyes gleaming with the brilliance of someone who could dissect and understand every subject, no matter how complex. He was, after all, a man who had devoted his life to the pursuit of knowledge. So when you, his companion, insisted on cooking something for him, he couldn’t help but be intrigued—curious, even—about the result. After all, cooking was just another field of study, wasn’t it?

But when the burnt smell hit his nostrils, it was clear that this wasn’t just an experiment in gastronomy; this was a disaster. The dish on the counter looked more like an abstract art piece than any edible creation. He raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a slightly bemused smirk. "Ah. A curious approach to... texture," he said, his voice dripping with dry wit.

He observed the charred remnants of your creation with clinical detachment, yet his eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and curiosity. "I must admit, the process appears to have been... revolutionary in its own right. Perhaps I could impart some of my vast culinary knowledge," he offered, though his tone was far from comforting. "But first, I would recommend not using the fire alarm as a seasoning."

Ratio sighed dramatically, placing his hands on his hips. "You see, cooking isn’t just about throwing ingredients together. It’s about precision, understanding heat and flavor in equal measure. Let me show you the basics."

His fingers deftly moved as he demonstrated each step, explaining the science behind each choice with the sort of thoroughness that would make any student dizzy. By the end of it, you would have a dish that, though far from perfect, had avoided resembling a burned relic. But his expression? It never strayed from its confident, slightly condescending smile. "Next time, though, perhaps we’ll leave the experiments to the laboratories."

Sunday hovered at the edge of the kitchen, his wings lightly fluttering as the scent of something burnt wafted past him. You, on the other hand, stood at the stove, an expression of determination on your face as you stirred a pot that, unfortunately, looked more like a charred disaster than an edible meal.

A wave of concern washed over him, though it was buried under layers of kindness and composure. He approached quietly, his eyes flicking over the wreckage. "I admire your effort," he said gently, his voice soft, perhaps even a little soothing, as though trying to ease the sting of what had clearly been an accident. "But I think... maybe a little too much heat?"

He didn’t laugh, not out of judgment, but because he knew all too well the sting of failure in the kitchen. His own idealism often led him down paths of misplaced hope, much like this. "Cooking is a bit like dreams," he mused aloud, glancing at the burnt dish with a melancholic smile. "You can get lost in the vision, forgetting the necessary balance, the grounded steps. It’s not so different from the ideals we chase, I suppose."

After a beat, he set a hand on your shoulder, his warmth radiating in the form of both physical and emotional comfort. "I can teach you, if you’d like. It’s important to be gentle with yourself. Mistakes happen."

He wasn’t about to make fun of you—his natural empathy and protective instincts wouldn’t allow it. Instead, Sunday took you under his wing, guiding you through the basics of cooking with a patience that only he could possess. You’d learn, slowly but surely, but the real lesson was in allowing yourself room to grow, rather than trying to be perfect from the start.

When Kaveh walked into the kitchen, he wasn’t expecting to be greeted by the acrid scent of smoke and a dish that looked like it had gone through a tragic journey. But there it was, a grim reminder of your overzealous attempt at culinary art. He blinked in surprise before a burst of laughter escaped him—genuine, light, and not meant to hurt, but certainly aimed at your expense.

"Well, this is... something," he remarked with a chuckle, crossing his arms as he eyed the burnt dish. He couldn’t help but smile at the sheer determination in your eyes, but it was hard to hold back the amusement that bubbled up from within. "I’ll give you points for creativity, but I’m afraid this is... quite far from what I’d call food."

Kaveh, while a talented architect, wasn’t known for his culinary prowess. But that didn’t stop him from stepping up. "Alright, alright, let me show you how it’s done," he grinned, throwing a wink your way. "Step one: We don’t turn everything into a charcoal sculpture."

He wasn’t harsh, though—he believed in the power of persistence. As he guided you through the steps, he couldn’t resist teasing you a bit, but in a way that encouraged improvement. "Okay, so maybe don't add that much spice next time. This isn’t a battle for the best ‘flavor explosion,’ it’s more about balance."

Despite his teasing, his care for you was evident as he helped you regain your confidence. Kaveh wasn’t one to just stand by. If you were determined to make something for him, he’d show you the right way to do it, and you’d end up laughing together over the mistakes. By the end of it, your second attempt was... edible, and perhaps even good enough to share.

Mualani was excited. You were cooking for her! The energy she brought into the room was infectious, her eyes gleaming with excitement and joy as she watched you confidently prepare the dish. But when the smoke billowed out of the oven, and the distinct scent of burnt food filled the room, she blinked in surprise.

Then, she burst out laughing. "Oh my stars, you really did try, didn’t you?" Mualani's laughter was bright and free, not mocking, but full of genuine amusement. "It’s okay, it’s okay, we can fix this!"

Her optimism never faltered, not even as she approached the burnt dish with a slightly concerned but ever-cheerful expression. "Well, we can’t eat this, but we can totally try again! No big deal! If anything, you’ve just made it more... interesting!"

Rather than making fun of you, Mualani's immediate instinct was to jump into action. "Alright, let’s start over. Don’t worry about the mess, we’ll turn this into something fun!" Her hands were swift and sure as she set to work, tossing ingredients together with the same grace she used on the waters of Natlan.

Mualani wasn’t a chef by any means, but she was quick to adapt, and she had the patience to guide you step by step. "See? You just gotta go with the flow, like surfing. Don’t force it; let it come naturally!" Her carefree attitude and willingness to help made the situation feel like less of a failure and more of a fun learning opportunity.

And when you succeeded in making a dish that didn’t resemble charcoal? Mualani’s exuberant cheers echoed through the house. "That’s the spirit! We got it! You did great, really!"

[livingformintyoongi]

can I request: Jungkook and YN laying in bed cockwarming while watching a movie and they fall asleep. Jungkook wakes up in the middle of the night and is still inside YN so he wakes her up by sucking her tits and asks her if it's ok to fuck because he is hard

thanksssss💕

5:30 A.M.

a/n: Thank you for the request! It's my first time making smut as such, so I hope it's good enough for your taste ^^. warnings: Cockwarming, Mazophilia, reader is older than Jungkook by two years, kind of dom!reader and sub!Jungkook but very mild, breeding kink, hair pulling. wc: 1.8k

"Don't you find it strange that Captain America and Iron man get along so badly? I mean, they both seek the same end, why fight each other when they should be using that strength against villains?" muttered Jungkook, trying to swallow the vulgar amount of popcorn he threw into his mouth.

"They both have the same goal, but at the same time different values, and those same values are what make their relationship so strained" you nodded, taking a sip of your drink, "You know what thing does strike me as odd?".

"What?" your boyfriend's gaze was still fixed on the TV, too focused on watching Iron man and Captain America fight.

"That you asked to be inside me while we watch Captain America: civil war," you laughed softly, turning to look at your boyfriend "Sounds like too weird of a fetish. Tell me the truth, do you have an Iron man fetish or something?".

Jungkook laughed, kissing your cheek and caressing your abdomen with his fingertips. You felt your insides stir inside you. 

 "Of course not, it's just that I really love being inside you" he murmured, kissing you shortly, "I feel so much closer to you, like we're really one person, you know what I mean?".

You nodded laughing, stroking his jaw, "Sure I do, but it's still weird that you're asking me while we're watching a Marvel movie."

"I'll pick something better next time" he chuckled, snuggling under you. He loved having you in his lap and being able to hug you from behind. "Now let's concentrate on watching Robert Downey Junior fight Chris Evans."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say" you smiled, leaning against his shoulder and watching one of your boyfriend's favorite movies.

You fell asleep shortly after watching the post-credits scene, you had a long day's work, so it was expected that you fell asleep so early. Before going to sleep you asked Jungkook to switch positions and he was quick to agree. He was aware that it was quite uncomfortable for you to sleep sitting up, and since he still didn't want to leave you, you decided to lie down hugging each other, him with his head on your chest and his hands around your waist, you, with one of your hands on his lower back and the other in his hair.

Even though you fell asleep much earlier than Jungkook had planned, he quite enjoyed watching the rest of the movies alone, mostly because it was enough for him that you were lying next to him.

He hadn't planned on disturbing your rest, indeed, he hated to do so because he knew how much the work exhausted you, but there were things he simply couldn't control, like his cock. 

If we're honest, it hadn't been his fault as such, but somehow watching Wade and Vanessa's scenes while he was still inside you awakened something inside him. And on the outside, too. 

As soon as he felt little spasms in his cock, he turned off the TV and settled back against your chest, closing his eyes and trying to think about anything other than fucking you. It worked a little at first, but then he felt the soft scent of your perfume, your breath against his scalp, the softness of your breasts against his cheek. He actually tried to resist.

He took a breath of air, remembering an old conversation the two of you had at the beginning of your relationship. You had talked about whether you were comfortable with certain things in the sexual realm, among them, having something with one of you asleep. You confessed that you didn't mind as long as you weren't fighting and he told you that he trusted you enough to know that you would take good care of him even if he was sleeping. 

You weren't fighting, so he wasn't passing you around, you said yourself that you didn't care. 

That was Jungkook repeated himself as he slipped his hand under your shirt, which was actually his, and started massaging your breasts. At first it was just small squeezes, using his whole hand to cover your breast. He licked his lips, looking at your face. You were still asleep.

The squeezes now shifted to your nipples. He rolled, pulled and pinched them, gradually increasing the force on them. He was surprised to notice that you were still sound asleep in spite of that.

He thought that was good, so this time he lifted your shirt until it was under your chin. He swallowed saliva at the sight of your breasts. He seriously loved them, they were so round, nice and big. He brought his mouth up to the point where both breasts met and began to leave little kisses on the spot. His hands were now busy caressing your hips, and his hips were grinding against yours with almost imperceptible movements. 

You were still asleep.

When he realized that you wouldn't wake up no matter what he did, he began to lick the skin around your nipples. At first it was just small rubs, but they soon turned into sloppy kisses, sucking your nipples hard as his onslaught became stronger than at first.

It was only then that you opened your eyes.

You were still a little groggy from the nap you had taken, so it took you a while to realize what was happening. You came all the way back after Jungkook hit your G-spot a little too hard.

You moaned much louder than usual, opening your eyes wide.

"Jungkook?" you gasped, clinging to his hair as you felt his cock touch your G-spot again. 

"Noona" he whispered, his voice cracking. Now that you were aroused he could afford to lunge harder. "You feel so good, you're so beautiful, so tight."

You weren't understanding the situation very well, but you weren't going to complain either. Jungkook definitely knew how to make a woman feel good.

"I thought I'd have to hold back, I didn't want to wake you up," he murmured, tightening his grip on your hips as his lunges got faster and messier, "I'm glad you woke up."

"Were you holding back?" you chuckled, groaning at the end of the sentence.

Jungkook was big, much bigger than any of your exes were, and even though you'd been together for quite a while now, you couldn't get used to his size and how well he filled you up. That, coupled with how resilient and flexible he was, made him a perfect lover. 

Even knowing that, you were still amazed by the fact that Jungkook held back most of the time just so he wouldn't hurt or tease you. It seemed so cute to you.

"Of course I do," he nodded awkwardly, closing his eyes tightly as he licked his bottom lip. He had to let go of your hips and grab hold of the back of your bed in order to continue. It felt even better now that you were awake. He loved hearing your voice. "You looked so tired, but I was so needy" he grunted as he felt you tighten around him, squeezing the backrest until his knuckles turned white, "I thought maybe, if I did it slowly you wouldn't wake up."

You hugged Jungkook's hips with your legs, while your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him close until he was close enough to kiss his lips. 

You tried to make the kiss slow and deep, but Jungkook seemed so desperate. You moaned as you felt him wrap one of his arms around your waist and lift you off the bed until you felt your chest crush against his. It didn't take him long to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You both broke the kiss when you ran out of air. Jungkook wasted no time, and quickly brought his lips down to your breasts, returning his focus to your nipples and how good it felt the way you squeezed each time he sucked on them hard.

You felt close, and it really was hard not to be when Jungkook was fucking and eating your breasts like it was the last time. You pulled his hair tightly, pulling his neck closer to your mouth, nibbling and sucking every space on his skin that looked too empty.

You smiled as you heard your name leave his lips between gasps.

"Noona" he whispered, letting his head fall on your shoulder, "I need...can I...can I…?". 

"You can cum inside" you kissed his head, feeling his cock stir inside you. Each time it felt even bigger, "It's okay, don't worry."

Jungkook sighed in relief, kissing and licking the skin on your shoulder, letting his hips bump against yours.

The sound of his skin against yours was getting louder and messier, as were the moans from both of you. 

With his mind too clouded to think clearly, but still quite aware of the situation, Jungkook lowered his hand all the way down, letting his index and ring fingers rub your clit, following the same messy, rapid rhythm his onslaught had.

You clenched your jaw, keeping a loud moan from leaving your lips. Your back curved the moment his fingers touched your sensitive spot.

Suddenly everything he did felt too much for you.

"I don't think I can take much more," he said between grunts, looking at you with dark, clouded eyes.

Seeing your boyfriend's reddened, swollen, glistening lips, his big eyes shining with desire and his messy hair covering his sweaty forehead was enough of a turn-on for you to squeeze his cock even tighter.

He moaned again, but unlike you, he didn't hold it back.

"It's okay, Jungkookie," You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling on it gently, "could you cum for me?" you whispered over his lips, licking the piercing that rested in the corner of it with the tip of your tongue.

Jungkook nodded quickly, letting your pussy milk his cock, and that was enough to cause the knot you felt in your belly to untie. Jungkook didn't stop moving until the last drop of his cum was inside you.

You both took a second before coming down from your euphoria. Jungkook fixed your shirt carefully, leaving a soft kiss on your neck as he finished. 

You smiled barely, caressing his cheek with your knuckles, "Aren't you going to get out of my pussy?" you asked teasingly.

Jungkook smiled back, but his smile was much bigger than yours, "No, you feel great."

You laughed helplessly, lowering your hands to his waist so you could pinch it gently. 

"Fine, but this time don't do anything, it's..." you looked at the clock on your bedside table, raising your eyebrows as you saw the time, "You seriously woke me up at five thirty in the morning so we could fuck??"

"We better just close our eyes and rest, we'll talk about this tomorrow" he kissed you shortly, before resting his head on your breasts again and settling back to sleep.

You just rolled your eyes in amusement, hugging Jungkook and letting tiredness take power over you again.

Materlist.

[ro5ani]

Some thoughts I've been having since round 6 but it's mostly me ranting about Ivan

So first of all, this whole thing where Till goes looking for Mizi's flower crown and they get attacked by the alien, it was all staged by Ivan. He was waiting for Till outside of the entrance and followed him as he went there

He didn't do anything to help them get away he was just watching how things played out, his goal was to get Till locked up so he could free him when no one was watching and they could escape (it would also show him as a savior thus making Till like him more)

You can see marks in the wall while he watches, my boy was stressed (maybe even worried that something would go terribly wrong). And before this scene, he is shown hugging the alien and there's an official art of him inside the aliens mouth (not sure what that means maybe that was the way of convincing it, it's known Ivan always does whatever the aliens want so he can use that later to his favor) ANYWAYS there are no scenes where he intervenes, so I'm pretty sure he planned the whole thing.

WHAT I'M TRYING TO GET AT IS, the meteor shower scene when they escaped.

If Ivan staged the whole thing he must've picked a specific day and time, so them escaping while there was a meteor shower is not a coincidence. Ivan did everything he could to convince Till, in the best way he could come up with.

Just like Till, Ivan suffered a lot of abuse even though it's not shown as much. At the beginning of round 3 we can see an alien threatening to throw him from the top of a building. He was scared and crying yet he saw, what probably was the most beautiful thing in his whole life, a meteor shower.

There's a lot of focus on Ivan's eyes throughout the series, he's very observant and it's also a way to emphasize how he is always looking at Till. But before he actually met Till, the meteor shower was the thing that caught his attention, and you can tell by the way his eyes fill with meteors when he looks at Till. Till to him is as shiny and sparkling as a meteor shower.

Ivan might be smart and very observant and mature for his age, but he's still a kid! He not only tried to save Till he also tried to impress him so they could get closer. So what did he do, like a kid showing off his toys to make an impression, he showed Till the most beautiful and impressive thing he knew.

And Till was impressed! But it was not enough, so it happened what happened.

The point of this whole thing is that I've seen a lot of people say Ivan's only way of catching Till's attention is by bothering/being mean to him, and while he did that a lot, he also risked his life and staged this whole thing so Till could be happy.

And even after that didn't work out, he kept looking out for Till in the only way he knew or was able to.

So my boy Ivan is not just a bully give him some credit😭 He could've been a little more honest but u don't expect the aliens to teach them proper communication.

SO THAT'S WHAT I WANTED TO GET OUT OF MY SYSTEM

If u read all of this thank you 😭 and feel free to share thoughts too!

And excuse any weird wording, i literally never write long stuff

[luveline]

spoilers for spider-man: across the spider-verse below

please don’t read any further if you are avoiding spoilers

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

miguel hops dimensions expecting a new family, and a new life. he’s not expecting you —featuring a tired miguel and his confused but adoring wife. or, miguel gets the comfort he so desperately needs. requested here. fem!reader, 2.5k

tw. gun mention/no graphic scenes

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Miguel seems different when he comes home that night. You've loved him for years, you know his face. He looks slightly younger and older at the same time, impossibly so. He looks like he has bad news and he doesn't want to tell you. Something harrowing. How else can you explain his expression? 

You stand up from the dinner table. "Hey," you say gently. "Is there something wrong?" 

He isn't convincing when he answers, "What? Uh, no. Nothing's wrong." 

"Something looks wrong." 

You step in front of him and lift your chin. Usually, he'd look down with a smirk, or at the very least a smile, but he seems weary. You lift your hand to his cheek, pinching it between your fingers without malice. 

"Smile, handsome. You have a lovely smile." 

He smiles. His lips part just slightly. "You… you really love me. You're happy." 

"We're happy," you correct. "Me, you, and Gabs forever, right?" 

"Gabs?" he asks. 

"Don't start with me. Gabriella's a mouthful. A beautiful mouthful," you concede. "I still think we should've named her Sofia. And yeah, Miguel. I love you. Really really. Don't forget it." 

You make him sit at the kitchen table. It's a selfish manoeuvre; you want him to sit so you can actually reach his hair. Your husband is the tallest man you've ever met. 

"Did you get a haircut?" you ask, running your fingers through his hair slowly. He shivers at your touch, and tilts his head back in question. "You did. That's such a betrayal, my love. I've been cutting your hair for going on six years now, I'm suddenly not good enough?" 

"You're good enough," he says. He really sounds so strange. 

"I'm joking. Miguel, if there's something wrong, you really need to tell me. I can make it better. Well, I can try." You bite your lip, unnerved by his quiet, solemn air. 

"Am I being weird?" he asks.

"No," you say, worried he thinks you're judging him. You never would. (He's being really weird.) "Of course not, you're just quiet tonight, that's all. Did you have a bad day at work?" 

"I– I got mugged. On the way home from work. I forgot the– the milk." 

"You what?" you ask, eyes widening in shock. Miguel's kind of gigantic. You've always said that you pity the fool who tries it, but apparently he's less hardy than you thought. A mugging explains his weird behaviour these last five minutes, at least. "What happened? Sweetheart, are you okay?" 

You take his face into both hands. He has dark circles under his eyes and a scratch along his jaw, but he seems unhurt. You suppose being attacked would age you instantaneously too. 

"Miguel, are you in shock? Should I take you to the hospital?" 

"I'm okay. I just feel strange." 

"Are you sure?” He nods hurriedly. You purse your lips. “I'll make you something warm to drink, that'll help. As long as you're not hurt, right? Did he take your wallet? We'll have to cancel your credit card." 

Miguel catches your shirt before you can go too far. 

"Hm?" you hum in question. 

Miguel visibly deliberates. His eyebrows lift ever so slightly. "Could I hug you?" 

The hurting and worry you have for him intensify before falling on the back-burner. You can shove your own feelings aside easily if he needs comforting. 

"I don't think you have to ask me," you say, offering your arms. 

Miguel is usually a short but meaningful hugger. You've hugged so many times and in what feels like every place on earth, and he's such a tall man that even if he doesn't mean for them to be, his arms are all encompassing.

It surprises you that this hug is different. He's tentative. When his hand falls to the small of your back it slots into place, and you can feel his relief like a palpable thing. 

"You’re okay," you say, your lips at his crown, your legs between his.

He's keeping space between you, and you don't like it. You press yourself as close to him as possible, your arms behind his shoulders, cupping the back of his head. Soft hair tickles your palm.

"Was it scary?" 

"Was what scary?" he asks. You don't mention his little sniff. He's smelling your hair. 

"Being mugged? Did he have a gun?" 

"Yeah, he did." 

"Oh, I see. There's no shame in being scared, you know that?" 

"I'm not scared. I wasn't scared when it happened. I just wanted to come home to you." 

You frown. His admission is like a barb in your chest, aimed true for your heart. "I'm so glad you did," you confess against his forehead, a murmur of sound. "So, so glad. I don't know what I'd do without you." 

You kiss his head three times in a row. The last kiss lingers, his arms slackening around you. 

You pull away, not wanting to smother him. Whoever's watching knows he's had enough of you these last few years. 

"Where–" Miguel clears his throat. "Where's Gabriella?" 

"She's in her room. Call her." 

You're hoping time with her will bring him back into focus. He's clearly more affected by this than he's willing to say. You don't know how you feel about it. Terrified, because you could've lost him. Euphoric that you didn't. You'd had this funny feeling all day long, and it's weird, you’d felt that something bad happened, a moment at the sink with Gabriella singing in her room, the clock ticking on the wall. Miguel late, but promising to bring the groceries you needed home with him before dinner. 

"Gabriella?" he calls up the stairs. You watch from the stove. 

You'll grab the pan and make him some hot cocoa. Just as soon as he stops looking scared. 

"Daddy?" Gabriella asks back. She's audibly ecstatic, and her footsteps are a stampede from her bedroom. You can see her from the kitchen when she gets to the bottom of the stairs. "Dad, pick me up!" 

"Oh, right," Miguel says, leaning down to hold her. 

He pulls her with all the grace of an elephant to his chest, and she nearly chins him. 

"Woah, careful." 

"Dad, you're super late. Mom said I can yell at you for being late." 

"You can yell at me, if you want to." He gives her a curious look. "I'm sorry for taking so long." 

Gabriella tilts her head to the side, dark hair shifting. She's a gorgeous little girl and her dad can't withstand it, melting as you hoped he would, the taut string of his back finally cut in two.  

"I don't want to yell at you," she whispers. 

"Good, because I don't want you to yell," he whispers back. 

Gabriella leans back in his arms and giggles thickly. He almost drops her, and has to readjust his hold on her back. 

"I'm so happy you're home!" she cheers, bringing her little hands up together from her chest and thrusting them out like fireworks. "You work too much! I thought doctors was s'posed to make everyone better and go home." 

"I'm not that kind of doctor," he says. 

You turn from where you've brought cocoa powder and milk to an emulsified simmer on the stovetop and beam at him. It's your favourite thing in the whole world when she mixes it up. Ever since she found his ID card with DR. written clear as day before his name, she's been under the impression that he works at the general hospital. Alchemex might break medical thresholds, but it is far from a hospital. 

"Are you having hot cocoa with your dad?" you ask Gabriella. 

She gasp in excitement and lists toward you. Miguel almost drops her for a second time. "Yes, oh my gosh!" 

"Well, come and sit. What mug?" 

Gabriella can't decide on what mug she wants; there's the orange cat with too many whiskers, there's the black one with bright white stars. After some deliberation, she decides on her and Miguel's matching daddy-daughter mugs.

"You're having some too, right?" he asks you. 

"Don't I always?" you ask. "Though I do want to protest the mugs. Where's my mug? Don't I deserve number one mom?" You kiss the top of Gabriella's head where she languishes in Miguel's lap, before placing their hot cocoa down far from her arm's reach. "It's hot." 

Miguel doesn't touch his. You blow cold air at Gabriella's and dip your fingertip into it periodically, content to spend some time with them both in amicable quiet. Gabriella just loves him to pieces, and she leans back in his arms with her eyes closed, basking in his closeness. 

She squints at you with one eye. "Dad?" 

Miguel doesn't answer. You nudge his foot. 

"What?" he asks.

"You're not doing the thing." 

"The thing?" 

You frown. 

"Yeah, dad." She huffs and curls his arm manually across her front. "Please, I want the kisses." 

He looks at you, completely lost. You're feeling similarly confused. "She wants you to kiss her hair," you say, wondering if perhaps he's suffering from stress related amnesia. 

He leans down carefully and kisses her hair. It's not the usual enthusiastic kiss, and he doesn't bother blowing in her ear after. 

Gabriella glares at him. "My ear!" 

"Blow in her ear," you mouth. 

He blows gently into her ear. She shivers, shudders, and laughs up a storm. 

When the cocoa's been drunk and the mugs washed and put away, Gabriella races upstairs, promising to return with a storybook and the drawing she made earlier in the day once she’s changed into her pyjamas. Miguel looks less lost than he had. In fact, he looks normal. The warm drink has put colour in his cheeks, and his daughter's cuddles have done their job. He's relaxed. He's forgotten the fear of the mugging, you're almost sure of it. 

You waver beside him. "Can I sit with you, or am I too heavy?" 

"Why would you be too heavy?" he asks. 

"You always say I'm too heavy," you say, sitting down on his thighs. They feel solid, a little different from usual. Miguel works out, but this is strange. He must be more tense than you thought. "It's your worst joke." 

"I'm sorry. I won't say it if it upsets you," he says, his voice rough and low. 

"Who said anything about that?" He's never called you heavy to be cruel. 

"Sorry," he apologises again. "I think all the excitement today messed me up." 

You spread your fingers wide across his chest, his heart beating a surface below. "It's okay. You don't have to react any one way…" You rub the tip of your nose against his jaw lightly. "I'm so glad you're okay. I had this weird feeling like something bad happened to you, you know?" 

Miguel laughs and coughs at the same time. It borders on being distressed. He's really worrying you. "You did?" he asks. 

"Mm-hm. But you're okay." You work hard to sound sure. 

His hand slides between your legs, fingertips digging into the soft inside of your upper thigh, though it doesn't stay there. He pulls away, looking flustered. "Sorry." 

"For what?" You blink. 

"I don't know." 

You laugh and press a kiss to the column of his throat, your nose squished against him. "I was thinking we'd watch that new movie tonight, with Harry Woodson, but it has guns and stuff. Would that still be okay?" 

He puts his hand behind your ear and guides your head back to look you in the eye. It's a familiar touch. He looks like himself again, though you truly are offended by his haircut. Maybe something happened at work and fried it off. 

"You're really something special," he says quietly. 

"How so?" 

His face softens with your flirting tone. "You're kind. You're so kind. I've never met someone like you." 

"What are you talking about?" you mumble. It's your turn to feel flustered, jellified by the earnestness lining his features. 

"You're sweet, and soft, and so pretty," he says, matching your tone. He's looking at you like he's seeing you for the first time. 

You understand the feeling. Sometimes you look at him and can't believe he's your love. 

"Soft," you repeat. "Are you trying to say something?" 

"Like that. That joke. You don't even sound mad." 

"You don't have to be so amazed. I've been like this since we met, haven't I? I'm hardly ever angry with you." You follow down from his eye to his jaw with your knuckle, tracing a tear he hasn't shed. He's spun you into thoughtfulness, and more than that —reverential fondness for him aches in the very centre of your stomach.  

"I must have some good luck," he says. 

His near death experience has inspired a wave of sappiness. 

You lean in until your forehead touches his, giving him time to close his eyes or lean away if he wants to. 

"I love you," you say simply. "You're not lucky, you're amazing, and all this good you see in me? I see it in you, O'Hara." You huff a laugh, breath fanning over his top lip as you steal a wonky kiss. You pull back. "You're sure–" 

Miguel kisses you. His hand flies to the back of your neck and his lips are eager, his head tilted to one side to accommodate your nose. He deepens the kiss and it's a mess, really, nothing like his usual kisses, no practised ease, nor confident touches. His fingertips push at the hairs lining the nape of your neck as though he's not sure what to do with his hand. It's like kissing him for the very first time. 

It's not a bad kiss. 

You kiss back slowly. You're the steadying constant to his hotheadedness, in kissing and in everything else, pulling time into an endless stretch of his mouth under yours, his body heat seeping into your skin. 

The sharp point of a tooth catches your bottom lip. You gasp into his mouth and flinch away from him. 

"Um, ouch? What was that, handsome, did you get your teeth filed to spikes?" you ask, probing your lip, a flood of giggles slipping between your fingers. 

He looks at you like you've lit the sky one star at a time. 

"Sorry," he says. "I'll be more careful, I swear." 

"Sure," you laugh. "Well, you'll have to be more careful later. You promised Gabriella you'd read her the Wishing Tree, and she's expecting a performance. Voices included." 

He adjusts you in his lap with more strength than you knew he had. "Will you help?" 

You'll always help him. He doesn't even need to ask. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!!

[lila-lou]

✨Paris - Pt. 1✨

Summary: The season 5 premiere of The Boys in Paris, which you were so excited about, became a dreaded event when you found out your difficult co-star Jensen Ackles would be there. Despite your best efforts to avoid him, Jensen's presence was present even at the post-premiere celebration. A few drinks too many led to a troubled night in your hotel room that left you torn and doubtful about your feelings.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, language, "cheating", Jensen being a dick

Word Count: 5703

A/N: No hate towards anybody. It's just fiction.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

You groaned annoyed, mumbling about how you so don’t wanna go there. Today was the premiere of The Boys Season 5 in Paris and while you were so excited for it a few weeks ago, it changed when your co-star Jensen Ackles was also announced to be there. Ever since you got the role as a love interest of Soldier Boy and attended the set for the first time, he had been giving you a hard time.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to muster up the enthusiasm you once had for the event. The glittering gown and perfectly styled hair felt like a costume rather than a celebration. With a deep sigh, you grabbed your clutch and headed out the door, knowing there was no way you could avoid the premiere.

As you arrived at the venue, the flashing cameras and cheering fans were overwhelming. You plastered on your best smile and made your way down the red carpet, feeling a mix of excitement and dread. Just as you expected, there he was—Jensen Ackles, looking annoyingly handsome in his tailored suit, chatting effortlessly with the press.

You tried to steer clear of him, but as you approached the interview area, you were ushered to stand next to him. His smile widened when he saw you, but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that made you uneasy.

“Y/N, great to see you”, he said smoothly, his voice dripping with charm.

“Jensen”, you replied curtly, hoping your discomfort wasn’t too obvious.

The interviewer asked a few generic questions about the season, and you answered politely, keeping your responses as professional as possible. Jensen, on the other hand, seemed to relish in making subtle jabs, his teasing comments slipping through his charming facade.

After the interview, you tried to escape into the crowd, but Jensen followed, his presence like a shadow you couldn’t shake.

“Come on, Y/N, lighten up a bit”, he grinned.

“Lighten up? Yeah, fuck off”, you snapped.

You knew you didn’t have to see him for over six months after that premiere, so you couldn’t hold back your dislike anymore. But then there was the next press worker, wanting to have an interview with the two of you.

“Excuse me, Y/N, Jensen, can we get a quick interview?”, the journalist asked, a hopeful look in her eyes.

You sighed inwardly, forcing a smile. “Of course”.

Jensen stepped closer, his demeanor suddenly more serious. “Yeah, let’s do it”.

The journalist began with a few standard questions about the upcoming season, and you answered them with practiced ease, focusing on the storylines and your character’s development. Jensen, to his credit, kept his comments professional and respectful, avoiding any of his usual teasing.

Then, the journalist asked, “So, how has it been working together, especially considering the intense dynamic between your characters this season?”.

You glanced at Jensen, who met your gaze steadily. “It’s been… challenging”, you admitted, choosing your words carefully. “But I think those challenges have helped us bring more authenticity to our roles”.

Jensen nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I agree. It’s definitely been a unique experience, and I think it adds a lot of depth to the on-screen relationship”.

The journalist seemed satisfied with the answer and wrapped up the interview with a few more questions before thanking you both.

The evening wore on, and after the premiere, you joined your colleagues at a nearby bar to unwind. The atmosphere was lively, with everyone celebrating the successful event. You were starting to relax and enjoy yourself when, to your disappointment, Jensen walked in. He greeted everyone warmly and, despite your best efforts to ignore him, his gaze seemed to linger on you.

You tried to focus on your conversation with another co-star, laughing at a shared joke, but you could feel Jensen’s eyes on you. It was starting to grate on your nerves. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

As the night went on, you found yourself at the bar, ordering another drink. Jensen approached, standing beside you as he waited for his own drink. You could feel the tension in the air as he leaned in slightly closer.

“You and Antony seem awfully close tonight”, he mumbled, his tone laced with a hint of something you couldn’t quite place.

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your drink before responding. “We’re friends, Jensen. Not that it’s any of your business”.

He looked down at his glass, swirling the liquid inside. “I wasn’t implying anything. Just an observation”.

“Well, keep your observations to yourself”, you retorted, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “Why do you care anyway?”.

He looked up from his drink, a sly smile playing on his lips. “Maybe I care because I don’t like seeing you getting too close to other guys”.

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Oh, please. You don’t get to act possessive now. We’ve barely managed to be civil to each other”.

He leaned in a bit closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “Maybe I like a challenge. Keeps things interesting”.

You arched an eyebrow, not entirely sure if he was serious or just messing with you. “You really are full of yourself, aren’t you?”.

His smile widened, that familiar cocky glint in his eyes. “Only when I’m around people who make me want to be better”.

You rolled your eyes again, but this time there was a hint of a smile on your lips. “Is that your attempt at a compliment?”.

“Did it work?”, he asked, his tone teasing but his gaze sincere.

You tried to hide your smile, forcing your expression to remain serious. “No, it didn’t work. And clearly, you’ve had too much to drink”.

With that, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving him standing at the bar. You could feel his eyes on you as you made your way back to the group, but you didn’t look back. Joining your colleagues, you tried to immerse yourself in their conversation, but a part of you was still acutely aware of Jensen’s presence across the room.

Antony noticed your return and immediately pulled you into a lively discussion about an upcoming scene, his animated gestures and infectious energy helping to distract you. You laughed and chatted with the group, trying to shake off the lingering effects of your encounter with Jensen.

Every so often, you glanced over at the bar, catching glimpses of Jensen talking to others, his eyes occasionally flicking in your direction. It was irritating how he seemed to occupy your thoughts despite your efforts to ignore him.

As the night wore on, you found yourself loosening up, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating. The camaraderie with your colleagues was comforting, and you enjoyed the lighthearted banter and shared stories.

Eventually, you called it a night. After saying your goodbyes to your colleagues, you made your way back to the hotel. The alcohol had definitely taken its toll, and your vision was slightly blurred as you fumbled with your room key.

Once inside, you kicked off your heels and began to change into something more comfortable. You opted for lace panties and a small, snug top, enjoying the feel of the soft fabric against your skin. The room spun slightly as you moved, a clear sign that you’d had too much to drink.

Just as you were about to lay down, a knock echoed through the room, startling you. You frowned, wondering who it could be at this hour. Carefully, you made your way to the door and peered through the peephole, your breath catching when you saw who it was.

“Jensen”, you muttered, unsure whether to be annoyed or curious.

You opened the door just enough to peer out at him. He looked a little unsteady himself, though his expression was serious.

“What are you doing here?”, you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the alcohol muddling your thoughts.

“I just wanted to make sure you got back okay”, he said, his tone surprisingly gentle. “Can I come in for a minute?”.

You hesitated, your instincts telling you to send him away, but there was something in his eyes that made you pause. With a sigh, you stepped aside and let him in, closing the door behind him.

Even though he had already seen you wearing less, you pulled on the your matching lace rope, crossing your arms as you looked at him. He was clearly way too drunk too. He watched you with a little smirk, his eyes lingering a bit longer than they should.

“You look pretty hot right now”, he said, his voice low and slightly slurred.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth that spread through your cheeks. “You’re drunk, Jensen. And so am I. This isn’t the time for compliments”.

He shrugged, leaning against the wall for support. “Maybe not, but it’s the truth”.

You sighed, feeling the exhaustion from the night catch up with you. “Why did you really come here, Jensen?”.

He ran a hand through his hair, his expression turning more serious. “I told you, I wanted to make sure you got back okay. And… I guess I just didn’t want the night to end on a bad note”.

You shook your head, trying to make sense of his mixed signals. “You’ve already apologized, Jensen. I get it. But this—” you gestured between the two of you “—this isn’t helping”.

He took a step closer, his eyes softening. “I know. I just—”.

You held up a hand, stopping him. “No, Jensen. We’re both drunk and—”.

Before you could finish, Jensen stepped closer, closing the distance between you in an instant. Your back hit the wall, and before you could react, his lips were on yours. The kiss was urgent, fueled by the alcohol and the tension that had been building between you two for months.

For a moment, you were too stunned to respond. His hands were warm on your waist, and his lips moved against yours with a fervor that made your head spin even more than the alcohol. Despite everything, you found yourself kissing him back, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as you poured all your mixed emotions into the kiss.

It felt like a dam breaking, all the frustration, anger, and confusing attraction you’d been feeling rushing out at once. But then reality crashed.

“Jensen, we can’t do this”, you said, breathless, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Fuck yes we can”, his voice husky with determination. With that, he pressed his lips back on yours, his body pressing against yours. His kiss was even more intense this time, filled with a raw, desperate need that matched your own.

You tried to push him away, your mind battling with your emotions, but your body betrayed you. You melted into his embrace, the heat of his body against yours igniting a fire you hadn’t realized you were capable of feeling. His hands roamed your sides, pulling you closer, and you found yourself responding with equal fervor, your fingers tangling in his hair.

For a few moments, nothing else mattered. The room spun around you, but the only thing you were aware of was Jensen—his touch, his scent, the way his lips moved against yours. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, and all-consuming.

But then, a sliver of clarity broke through the haze again. You pulled back, panting, your eyes wide as you looked at him. “Jensen, we’re making a mistake. We’re drunk and—”.

He leaned his forehead against yours, his breath hot and ragged. “Maybe. But right now I don’t care”.

With that, he pressed his lips back on yours, his hands gripping your thighs as he lifted you effortlessly, pulling you up onto his hips. You gasped against his mouth, feeling the hard press of his erection through your thin panties, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

You wrapped your legs around his waist instinctively, the friction and heat between you both intensifying with every passing second. His hands roamed your back, his touch firm and demanding, while his lips and tongue explored yours with a hunger that seemed to consume you both.

Jensen moved you to the bed, lowering you onto the soft mattress without breaking the kiss. You could feel the full weight of his body pressing down on you, the urgency in his movements mirroring your own. Despite everything, you found yourself craving his touch, needing more of the connection that had been denied for so long.

His hands slipped under your top, sliding up your sides and making you shiver at the sensation. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own filled with a mix of lust and something else you couldn’t quite define. “Why do you have to make everything so complicated?”, he murmured, his voice rough with desire.

His lips pressed against your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. “You’re such a pain in the ass”, he mumbled against your neck, his breath hot and sending shivers down your spine.

You moaned softly, your hands gripping his shoulders. “And you’re an insufferable dick”, you shot back, your voice breathless and tinged with a mixture of annoyance and desire.

Jensen chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin, making you gasp. “Guess that makes us even”, he murmured, his lips moving lower, grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer, your body arching into his touch. Despite the alcohol and the confusion, you couldn’t deny the raw, primal attraction between you. It was maddening, infuriating, and utterly intoxicating.

His hands roamed your body with a sense of urgency, his touch igniting a fire wherever it landed. As his lips continued their exploration of your neck and collarbone, you couldn’t help but respond to him, your body moving instinctively to meet his.

Every kiss, every touch, was a battle, each of you pushing and pulling, testing the boundaries. It was a clash of wills as much as it was an act of passion, both of you trying to dominate and submit all at once.

Jensen’s hands slid under your top, pushing it up and over your head, discarding it carelessly to the side. His eyes raked over your body, dark with desire.

His lips crashed against yours again, and you lost yourself in the intensity of the moment.

Jensen groaned, the sound low and guttural. “You know, you drove me crazy on set, grinding on my dick during that scene. You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”. His voice was a mix of accusation and desire, the memory clearly affecting him as much as it had affected you.

You let out a breathless laugh, your nails digging into his back. “Oh, please. You think I did that on purpose? You were the one who couldn’t keep your hands to yourself”.

Jensen’s eyes darkened, his lips curving into a smirk. “Is that so? You really think I’m the one who couldn’t keep my hands to myself?”. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you even closer against him, making you gasp at the sensation.

“Yeah”, you managed to breathe out, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “You were all over me”.

He chuckled darkly, his lips grazing your ear. “Maybe because you were practically begging for it. The way you looked at me, the way you moved… You wanted me just as much”.

You hissed, “I’m just a fucking amazing actress”.

“Is that what you tell yourself?”, he murmured, his voice dripping with arrogance. “That all of this is just an act?”.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “Well, if that’s the case, you deserve an award for how real you make it seem”.

You shivered, torn between anger and undeniable attraction. “You’re so full of yourself, Jensen”, you shot back, trying to regain some control over the situation.

“And you”, he countered, his voice low and rough, “are full of contradictions. You say one thing, but your body tells me another”.

You gasped as his lips found your neck again, sucking and nipping at your sensitive skin. Despite your best efforts to stay composed, a moan escaped your lips, betraying your true feelings.

“See?”, he whispered against your skin, his tone triumphant. “Your body can’t lie”.

You clenched your fists, struggling to suppress the overwhelming sensations he was eliciting. “This doesn’t mean anything”, you insisted, even as your body responded eagerly to his touch.

Jensen pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that took your breath away. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. But we both know the truth”.

With that, he captured your lips in another searing kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine. His hand roamed over your body, fingertips grazing your skin with a touch that was both tender and demanding.

As his lips moved to your jawline, planting soft kisses that trailed down to your neck, you felt his hand slip lower, teasing the edge of your panties. Each touch was electric, igniting a fire within you that you couldn’t ignore, no matter how much you tried to resist.

Jensen’s breath was hot against your skin as his fingers traced a path along the waistband of your panties, his touch light and teasing. He paused, lifting his head to meet your eyes, his gaze filled with an intensity that made your heart race.

“Tell me to stop”, he whispered, his voice low and rough. “If you really don’t want this, tell me to stop”.

Your breath hitched, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. But your body was already making the decision for you, responding to his touch with a need that you couldn’t deny.

Jensen’s fingers slipped beneath the fabric of your panties, the touch sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body. His hand was warm and confident, exploring you with a skill that left you breathless. He found your most sensitive spot, his fingers moving with a rhythm that made your hips buck involuntarily.

“You’re so wet”, he murmured against your neck, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and desire. “Is this what you don’t want?”.

You moaned softly, your hands gripping his shoulders as his touch sent waves of pleasure through you. “Jensen”, you gasped, unable to form a coherent response as his fingers continued their relentless assault.

He smiled against your skin, his movements becoming more deliberate, each stroke designed to drive you closer to the edge. “That’s what I thought”.

With that, he dipped not one but two of his thick fingers inside you, their size enough to stretch you, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lips. His eyes widened in surprise, a mixture of awe and satisfaction crossing his features.

“Shit, you’re tight”, he whispered, his voice rough with desire. His fingers moved slowly at first, letting you adjust to the sensation, but soon they began to thrust deeper, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You bit your lip, your eyes squeezing shut as the intensity of his touch overwhelmed you. “Jensen”, you moaned, your voice breathless and needy, your body arching into his touch.

Jensen smirked, his breath hot against your ear as he continued his relentless assault on your senses. “Jensen what?”, he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

You could barely form a coherent thought, let alone a response, as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Desperate for more, you tugged impatiently on his shirt, your fingers fumbling with the buttons.

“Jensen, please”, you managed to gasp, your need evident in your voice.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through your body. “That’s better”, he said, his tone both commanding and tender. “Tell me what you want, Y/N”.

Your fingers finally succeeded in undoing the buttons, and you pushed his shirt off his shoulders, revealing the sculpted muscles beneath. Your hands roamed his chest, feeling the heat of his skin, the strength of his body.

“I want you”, you whispered, your voice trembling with desire. “I need you”.

Jensen’s eyes darkened with lust, and he captured your lips in a searing kiss, his fingers still working their magic inside you. The intensity of his touch, combined with the heat of his kiss, was almost too much to bear.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he looked into your eyes. “You’re so beautiful”, he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. “And you’re mine tonight”.

With that, he withdrew his fingers, eliciting a whimper of protest from you. But before you could say anything, he was pulling down his pants, his movements hurried and eager. You watched, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of him, his erection hard and ready.

Jensen's gaze was intense as he ordered, "Get those panties off, now". His voice was firm, leaving no room for hesitation.

Your hands moved quickly, discarding the remaining fabric that clung to your body. Once you were completely bare, Jensen climbed back onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs. His eyes roamed over you, taking in every inch of your exposed skin.

Without hesitation or warning, Jensen guided himself inside you, thrusting forward with one hard, deliberate motion. The sudden fullness made you whimper, your nails digging hard into his back, marking his skin with the intensity of your reaction.

Jensen groaned deeply, the sound vibrating through your chest as he buried his face in your neck for a moment, overwhelmed by the sensation. Without pausing, he moved his mouth to your breast, capturing your nipple between his lips. He sucked hard, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak, quieting his own groans as he reveled in how good you felt around him.

The combination of his thrusts and the stimulation from his mouth sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You arched into him, your hands clutching at his shoulders, your hips meeting his rhythm eagerly.

“Jensen”, you gasped, the intensity of the sensations almost too much to bear. “Please, don’t stop”.

Jensen smirked against your skin, his confidence evident in the way he moved. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”, he murmured, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Tell me how good it feels, Y/N”.

“Feels so good”, you gasped, your voice breathless with need.

His lips curved into a satisfied grin as he continued his relentless rhythm, each movement calculated to drive you wild. “That’s right”, he whispered, his mouth moving back to your breast, sucking and nibbling on your nipple. “I want to hear you beg for it”.

Your nails dug deeper into his back, your hips bucking against his in desperate need. “Please, Jensen”, you whimpered, your voice trembling. “I need more”.

He chuckled, the sound low and teasing, sending shivers down your spine. “More? You want more?”, he taunted, his thrusts becoming slower, more deliberate, dragging out the pleasure.

“Yes”, you cried out, your body arching into his, craving the intensity he was withholding. “Please, Jensen, don’t tease me”.

His eyes darkened with lust as he looked down at you, enjoying the sight of you writhing beneath him. “You look so beautiful when you’re desperate”, he murmured, his voice a mix of admiration and desire.

You hissed, “Fuck you”, your voice edged with both frustration and desperation. Jensen’s smirk deepened, clearly enjoying the power he held over you.

“Oh, I plan to”, he murmured. He rolled his hips slowly, deliberately, making sure each movement was a tantalizing tease. The slow, torturous rhythm sent you spiraling, each measured thrust driving you to the brink of madness.

Your body ached for more, every nerve ending on fire with need. You tried to push your hips up to meet his, but his hands held you firmly in place, dictating the pace with a dominance that made your pulse race.

Eventually, your nerves wearing thin, you decided you had enough of his teasing. With a burst of determination, you pushed him roughly onto the bed, his dick slipping out of you as he landed on his back. Before he could react, you straddled his lap, your legs on either side of his hips. You grabbed his erection, positioning it at your entrance, and then sank down onto him with a loud gasp, the sensation of fullness making you shudder.

Jensen’s eyes widened in surprise, a mixture of delight and admiration flashing across his face. He let out a low, appreciative groan, his hands instinctively gripping your hips to steady you.

“Taking control, are we?”, he teased. “I think I like it when you’re on top”.

You ignored his comment, focusing instead on the feeling of him inside you. You began to move, rocking your hips back and forth, finding a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. The power of being in control, of setting the pace, was intoxicating.

Jensen’s hands slid up your sides, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, adding another layer of sensation to your already heightened arousal. “You look so fucking sexy”, he murmured, his voice rough with desire. “I could watch you ride me all night”.

You quickened your pace, your movements becoming more urgent, more demanding. “Then stop talking and enjoy the ride”, you shot back, your voice breathless with the effort and pleasure.

He chuckled, his eyes dark with lust. “Oh, I’m enjoying it, alright. But are you?”. He thrust his hips upward, meeting your movements with a force that made you gasp.

You threw your head back, your hands splayed on his chest for balance. “Fuck", you moaned, the pleasure building with each thrust, the friction and heat between you both becoming almost unbearable.

Jensen’s hands tightened on your hips, his smirk widening as he felt your body responding to him. “You sound so desperate”, he murmured, his voice a low growl.

"Shut up”, you moaned, your voice laced with a mix of frustration and pleasure. Finally, you shifted your hips just right, the angle hitting your sweet spot perfectly. The sensation was almost overwhelming, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Jensen started to say something, his smirk evident even through his heavy breaths, but you quickly placed a palm over his mouth to silence him. His eyes widened in surprise, but the teasing glint in them remained. He groaned against your hand, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation to your already heightened arousal.

With one hand still over his mouth, you used your other hand to steady yourself on his chest, increasing your pace as you rode him with a newfound intensity. Each movement sent shockwaves through your body, the pleasure building rapidly as you neared your climax.

Jensen’s hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he tried to control his own responses. He thrust his hips upward to meet your movements, the combined effort driving you both closer to the edge.

You looked down at him, your breath coming in ragged gasps, the intensity of the moment written all over his face. Despite your best efforts to silence him, you could still feel his muffled groans against your palm, each sound sending a thrill through you.

“I’m so close”, you gasped, your voice barely more than a whisper as you felt yourself teetering on the brink.

His eyes locked onto yours, the connection between you almost palpable. He removed your hand from his mouth, capturing it in his own and pressing a kiss to your palm before whispering, “Come for me, Y/N. I want to feel you”.

His words, combined with the relentless rhythm of your movements, pushed you over the edge. The orgasm tore through you, your body convulsing with the intensity of it as you cried out his name. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, leaving you breathless and trembling.

Jensen followed moments later, his release powerful and all-consuming. He groaned your name, his body shuddering beneath you as he found his own climax.

For a moment, you both remained there, tangled together, your bodies still shaking from the aftershocks of your passion. Slowly, Jensen pulled you down onto his chest, wrapping his arms around you as you both caught your breath. His heartbeat was strong and steady beneath your ear.

But as the euphoria began to fade, the reality of the situation set in. You rolled off him, lying on your back next to him, the cool air hitting your sweat-slicked skin. You turned your head to look at him, the lingering tension between you two palpable.

“Don’t think this changes anything”, you said, your voice still breathless but firm.

Jensen turned his head to meet your gaze, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Wouldn’t dream of it”, he replied, his tone laced with mockery.

You scoffed, pushing yourself up and grabbing a nearby blanket to cover yourself.

Jensen stood up, his drunken haze clearing as he began to get dressed. You pulled on your top, trying to ignore the lingering tension between you. As he picked up his dress shirt, he found your panties on the floor. With a teasing smirk, he held them up.

“Maybe I should keep these as a reminder of how nice you can be with a dick deep down inside you”, he said, his voice dripping with mockery.

You rolled your eyes, snatching your panties from his hand. “Shouldn’t you be more worried about your wife finding these?”, you retorted, your tone laced with annoyance.

Jensen chuckled, an unsettling nonchalance in his eyes. “She knows how things are”, he replied, his voice cold as he zipped up his pants and closed his belt. “We have an understanding”.

You felt a pang of something—disgust, perhaps, or maybe just a deeper disappointment. “An understanding”, you echoed, your voice flat. “Must be nice”.

He shrugged, slipping his arms into his dress shirt. “It’s practical”, he said, buttoning up. “We both know the score”.

As you stood up to clean yourself, feeling the residual heat and stickiness where Jensen had come inside you, you felt his hand grab your wrist. With a sudden, forceful pull, he yanked you flush against his chest.

His eyes bore into yours, the intensity almost overwhelming. “You need to remember how this feels”, he murmured, his voice low and rough. “I want you to keep this in mind, every time you look at me”.

You opened your mouth to retort, but he silenced you with a deep, possessive kiss. His lips moved against yours with a desperate hunger, as if trying to imprint the memory of this moment onto your very soul. His hands roamed your back, pulling you even closer, deepening the kiss.

You couldn’t help but respond, your body betraying your resolve once again as you melted into him. The kiss was fierce and demanding, a tangible reminder of the intensity between you. His tongue explored your mouth, coaxing soft moans from you, making your head spin with the sheer force of his passion.

When he finally pulled back, his breathing was heavy, his forehead resting against yours. “Don’t forget this, Sweetheart”, he whispered, his voice rough with desire. “No matter what happens, remember how you feel right now”.

With that, Jensen left your hotel room, the door clicking softly behind him. You stood there for a moment, heart pounding, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. You felt a mix of anger, confusion, and an undeniable pull toward him that left you reeling.

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of the intense encounter, and made your way to the bathroom to clean yourself. The warm water helped to soothe your frazzled nerves, but it couldn't wash away the lingering sensation of Jensen's touch.

Just as you were drying off, your phone buzzed on the counter. You glanced at the screen and saw a message from Antony: "Hey, are you still awake? Should I come over?".

You bit your lip, a pang of guilt twisting in your gut. You had been meeting Antony outside of set for a few weeks now. Although neither of you had put a label on whatever was happening between you, it felt like you had cheated on him by sleeping with Jensen. The thought made your chest tighten with regret.

Ignoring the message for a moment, you sat down on the edge of the bathtub, taking a deep breath. You needed to figure out what you were going to do. The emotions from your encounter with Jensen were still raw, and you couldn't ignore the fact that you felt something for Antony, too.

After a few moments of contemplation, you picked up your phone and typed out a response: "Sorry, Antony. I'm really tired and just need some rest tonight. Can we talk tomorrow?".

You hit send and set the phone down, feeling a mixture of relief and sadness. You knew you needed to have an honest conversation with him, but tonight wasn't the night for it. Your emotions were too tangled, and you needed time to sort them out.

As you crawled into bed, you couldn't help but replay the events of the night in your mind. Jensen's touch, his words, the undeniable connection between you—it all felt like a storm you couldn't escape. But there was also Antony, steady and kind, someone you had started to develop feelings for.

You sighed, closing your eyes and willing sleep to come.

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

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Part 2

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Taglist: @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @spnfamily-j2