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underthetree845 · 5 months ago

Text

(dazai osamu birthday post- 2024)

A Taste of Sunlight

Dazai Osamu/gn! Reader (oneshot)

cws: gn! reader (uses of 'bella(donna)') but gender not explicitly stated, mentions of suicide and self harm, mentions of cigarettes and alcohol, ada dazai, ada reader, coworkers/friends to lovers, domestic love, domestic fluff, implied mutual pining, mentions of dazai's past suicide attempts, dazai's past spoilers, dazai's dark thoughts, dazai calling himself inhuman and undeserving, baking together, dazai's birthday, reader is dazai's safe space

wc: about 3.7k

summary: how will reader make dazai feel special on his birthday when he doesn't feel like he deserves to?

a/n: this turned out a little darker with dazai's thoughts than I thought it would, but i'm satisfied with how i wrapped things up! i know it's been awhile since i posted my own writing- burnout hit me pretty hard and it's been difficult to get back on my feet, but i knew i had to do something special for him (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈)

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

Ceilings, plaster. Can’t someone just make it move faster? Abandoned bottles of sake scattered on the tatami mat floor of his bedroom catch the light of the late morning sun as it creeps in through the curtains he keeps forgetting to close. Or rather, the curtains he can never bother to close on certain nights. He never forgets, not really. The dusty little fan in the corner of his room does little to break up the lingering staleness which hangs in the air. You should really open a window in here Dazai-kun, he heard your voice echo in the basement of his mind, Sunlight and fresh air are good for you. You were probably right. Sunlight and fresh air are good for you, everyone knows that. You somehow always are right about him.

The sun had already found his skin that morning- or rather, the shield of cloth he uses to hide the vast nothingness underneath. The icky, inhuman blackness that he would never allow a creature like you to even brush with your fingertips. For the first time that day since observing the sun come up out his window with hollow eyes and a blank expression, Dazai sat up. Ignoring the slight ache in his head and soreness of his muscles, bandages seeming to be the only thing holding him together, Dazai arose from his futon and silently slumped to his kitchen to down a glass of water. Today was a pointless day. One that shouldn’t have happened at all. Probably one of the worst of Dazai’s life, save for a few particularly nightmarish ones. Nightmares. Maybe he’d wake up, wake up as somebody completely different; or as an old man, and realize that the countertop in front of him and fingers wrapped around the sturdy white mug in his grasp were all really from a time long gone. The mug’s black, dotted on eyes stared back up at him, Dazai’s own brown ones focused, the emotion behind them simply indescribable. Part of Dazai feared waking up too. Something light, something warm, managed to flicker in the cavern of his chest at the memory of the grin that had spread across your lips upon presenting him with the cat mug. A grin you only ever seemed to take on for his eyes. You, he should be ashamed of himself for allowing skin so pure to meet with his own bloody, bandaged hands. Muddled flesh that hardly ever got a taste of the sunlight which always seemed to bathe the surface of your skin. Dazai Osamu had always been a sinner, would it really make his eternal damnation that much worse if he decided to linger in your comforting embrace for a moment longer?

Yes, today never should have happened. The first one so many years ago, and all the years of bloodshed, soiled bandages, and regret that followed. The number taunted him from the calendar Kunikida had insisted he hang up on his wall, your support in the idea being the only reason he had gone through with it at all. 06 19. The nineteenth of June. June 19th. Definitely some sort of horrible mistake by the gods of this universe. If they even existed. It’s hard to surprise Dazai Osamu. Most things can be predicted- whether it be by pattern of behavior… calculated likelihood, or something else of the like. Dazai thought- and still did- that it would be tragically poetic if the date of birth and the date of death on a gravestone perfectly matched. Right down to the date of the month. Yes, a perfectly beautiful idea of a gravestone Dazai had tried a handful of times to make his own. He had the scars to prove it. Aside from empty ‘happy birthday’s from the other executives, there were only really two people in the mafia who placed any sort of importance on Dazai’s birthday. None of that mattered now. Of course, in reality, all of it mattered. It was what led him here, to the light which now poured in through the window in the living room of his little apartment. In the almost two years Dazai had been employed at the Armed Detective Agency, he’d had one birthday. He was new enough in the office last year that the prospect of his colleagues doing anything to commemorate the event was not very keen. Such was his hope. He did get a lollipop from Ranpo and a ‘happy birthday’ from Kunikida; the blonde did not get on Dazai’s back over his paperwork for the whole day. That was, until you first stepped foot into the agency a few months into Dazai’s employment. Ironically, in spite of all the warm welcomes you received from his colleagues, the brunette found himself extremely suspicious of you. No one could possibly charm that many detectives with nothing but a bit of sweetness and an even sugarier smile. Not just anyone could possibly hold that much warmth in their laughter and still have so much to share. That smile of yours. Dazai had ended many lives for many different reasons, despite having failed at cutting his own short so many times. Rarely did he ever spill blood to protect someone- much less because of some irrational, sentimental attachment. If not for his years in the mafia, it probably would have frightened Dazai to realize how easily he would watch the world burn if it meant that smile of yours would be safe. As it turns out, Dazai wasn’t entirely wrong. You weren’t just anyone- you were Name. You, who he didn’t deserve to even stand anywhere near. Who shouldn’t even bother buying someone like him some cat mug that made you think of him. He never knew he could be so emotionally attached to a piece of ceramic. But that was nothing compared to the way you made his head spin. You would let out a giggle while calling him a flirt for the millionth time. You would share your umbrella with him on a rainy day, circle his birthday in a bright red marker on the little calendar sitting neatly on your desk. The desk right across from his. He’d pretend to not notice the glances you steal because he knows he’s far worse. Buying each other coffee on occasion- usual orders memorized. Experiencing such simple pleasures on a weekly basis- how could anyone have not expected Dazai to fall as hard as he did?

The thing that broke him out of his trance were four soft knocks on the door. The same way you would knock on the wood of his desk to discreetly get his attention. Dazai was about to dismiss the four knocks as a phantom of his imagination before they sounded again, causing him to turn his head and peer at the door as if it had just grown a pair of wings and flown away. Before you could get the chance to knock again or ring his phone, Dazai ran a bandaged hand through his scruffy locks before brightening up his expression slightly and opening the door. And there you were- not unlike the sunlight which flooded in through the entryway, the first thing you did was send prickles of warmth into his skin and allow that smile of yours to glow.

“Ah, Bella! I didn’t expect to see you here today,” Dazai greeted you with a singsong voice, “You’re looking as radiant as ever. To what do I owe this pleasure?” Dazai held his mask up for the whole sixty seconds it took you to reply. In that time, your honeyed eyes scanned over the expanse of his face in a way only you could make so overwhelming. The grin on his lips, though meticulously crafted, failed to meet his eyes. He knew you could tell the moment your irises flickered with an emotion far too deep for Dazai to have the energy to explore. You somehow always were right about him. It didn’t take much longer for you to ask if you could come in for a while, and Dazai accepted as if he’d ever have the strength to refuse. The fabric tote bag clunked with weight as you placed it on his kitchen counter, Dazai trailed behind you as if your torsos were connected by some invisible string. His eyes reminded you of a burnt black cat.

As far as cooking came, Dazai knew how to prepare a few basic things. How to scramble eggs, how to steam rice, how to use the microwave, how to open a can of crabs. It had always been too much of a nuisance to bother with anything more. The cigarettes and sake sustained him well enough. Even so, he found himself peering over your shoulder with dark, curious eyes as you unpacked several ingredients and laid them neatly on the counter.

“My my, did you go shopping for me? How thoughtful,” a small grin played on Dazai’s lips as he held up a tiny bottle of vanilla extract with an inspectful eye. Uncapping the bottle, he took a moment to inhale the scent, goosebumps rising underneath the bandages on the back of his neck at how much it reminded him of your usual shampoo.

“You like cheesecake, right?” you asked, voice a gentle breeze as you tilted your head in his direction. It’s hard to surprise Dazai Osamu. He paused momentarily, raising an eyebrow as you cleaned your hands in the sink. How you came to acquire such a fact was beyond him. Your fingers then reached out to preheat the oven, the one he usually didn’t spare so much as a glance. “I’ve only had the chance to taste it a handful of times, but I do have to admit, I’m a fan,” Dazai replied. You were smart enough to bring your own mixing bowls, pans, and stirring utensils. Sometimes he questioned how he ever allowed you to come to know him so well. “If you wanna help me, would you mind washing your hands first, please?” you requested, and Dazai didn’t even wait a moment before turning to the sink.

You did a better job of filling his apartment with warmth and light than the sun ever could. From the way your shoes sat at the front door right next to his own to the way your perfume would linger around after you’d taken your leave. Your fingers would cup over his own as you demonstrated how to properly stir the ingredients together. He would internally curse the persistence of the butterfly in his chest when you commented on how pretty you thought his hands were. You made his sparsely decorated, thin-walled little apartment feel just a little more like a home. Dazai waited patiently with the batter in his arms as you pressed the buttery graham cracker crust firmly into the pan. If the universe were kind, he would have been allowed to stand there and take you in until the end of time. He knew he probably wouldn’t ever deserve to have someone like you in his life. Not the way your eyes softened when they met his, not the way you flushed so beautifully in response to his compliments and praise. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to give you as much as you deserve. He didn’t even come close to deserving the trust you must have had in him that evening on the metro, when you slept on the shoulder of his coat. Both of you missed your stops that day. How could anyone have expected him to have the heart to disturb you? They were the ones who whispered how he didn’t even have one.

Before he knew it, the cake was almost ready to be placed in the oven. Your fingers cupped his own once more as you helped him pour the batter evenly before scraping the last bit out with the blue silicone spatula from your bag. He spun the pan in a circle on the countertop to even the batter as you slipped a pair of well used oven mitts onto your hands. “Looks perfect,” you offered some gentle praise and he felt his heart soften. Once the batter had been slid into the warmth of the oven, you removed the floral print oven mitts from your hands and leaned against the counter with a sigh. Dazai’s eyes were drawn to the way your fingers were delicately folded in front of you, how soft your skin looked and how it might feel against his own. From the gentle curve of your lips to how your eyelashes brushed your cheeks and the way your eyes sparkled when you laughed… he found himself at a loss. You always somehow seemed to dwindle him to a shadow of his former self, bring out sides of him he didn’t even know he had. Out of all the crimes Dazai had committed in his life, stealing your heart was by far the worst one. He didn’t think he’d be able to give your heart back if he tried, especially when you held his own so easily in the palm of your hand. “Have you had water today?” you voiced, finally turning to bless him with your gaze. “I drank some just before you came, actually,” Dazai replied, eyes briefly flickering over to the now empty cat mug sitting on the counter. “Would you care for something to drink yourself? What might suit your fancy, m’lady?” He cocked his head playfully. Your eyes regarded his thoughtfulness. A look far too fond for someone like him. Especially from someone like you. “Some water might be nice, thank you.” “You know I aim to please,” he nodded slightly, opening the fridge to get his pitcher.

A little while later, a timer went off on your phone, and Dazai tilted his head when you slid the oven mitts back on and set the cheesecake on the stovetop. “Isn’t it a bit too soon, Bella?” he inquired, leaning over your shoulder as you grabbed a little green bowl that had previously been set aside, “The center still looks a bit too mushy, doesn't it?” You hummed slightly, a pleased expression crossing your face. “Look at you, getting more adept at cooking already?” a soft grin played on your lips as you gave him an affectionate pat on his cheek. “I’m learning from the best,” Dazai replied, the corners of his eyes crinkling when he smiled. “You’re right, it’s not quite done yet, but I’m adding the topping now so it can cook a little with the cheesecake at the very end,” you explained as you carefully poured the topping on, “It’s usually done this way. Makes it yummier.” It’s wrong, Dazai thinks, to indulge himself in your company like this. There are a million other better ways you could be spending your time. Not taking the time out of your day to come fan a flame already at the end of its wick. Even so, even if a part of Dazai might never allow himself to fully believe what you say when you tell him what kind of person he is in your precious eyes, nothing but being in your arms has ever felt so close to what others might describe as home. Not where he grew up, not his shitty old shipping container or the mattress on its rotting floor. Not any of the places he would lie awake at night hoping to waste away or any of the many bottles of sake that have met his lips. They filled his stomach, flushed his skin, but left his chest cold, barren, empty. “Cherries are in season this time of year you know?” you said, sighing at the scent of the mashed up fruit and sugar bubbling in the pan in front of you. Combined with the warm scent of the cheesecake wafting from the oven, even Dazai, whose appetite usually didn’t amount to much at all, found his mouth beginning to water. “Are they?” he tilted his head with a fond smile, imagining what it might be like to get used to having you in his kitchen more often. What a dream it would be to have coming home mean coming home to you. You looked so perfect in his apartment it almost hurt. Whether you were curled up on the cushions of his couch, cross legged on the floor, or standing in front of the stove pouring some homemade cherry sauce over a freshly made cheesecake, he would take it all. Savor every last bit of the warmth and light with which you filled his apartment. “Why don’t you open a window in here before we start eating?” you suggested, and Dazai let out a breath of resigned amusement. He stood from where he had been leaning against the countertop and strolled over to the living room. “Hm, Bella, don’t people usually eat cheesecake cold?” Dazai wondered, looking back at you for a moment as you grabbed a pair of forks from a drawer. “Yeah, they do,” you replied, placing two equally sized slices of cheesecake onto one of the plates from Dazai’s cabinet. He didn’t have to remind you where they were kept. “But personally I like eating it warm, I always have,” your lips curved up into a smile, “especially when it’s freshly baked. Makes it yummier.” “Huh, well I trust your opinion,” he offered a slight smile, returning to take a seat at the little round table just as the two plates were lowered. The cheesecake looked even more appetizing now that it had been neatly sliced and plated, but nothing made him want to eat it more than the fact that it had been prepared by the loveliest pair of hands he had ever met.

Dazai took notice of the way you held your breath when he took his first bite; you shouldn’t have been so anxious for the approval from the likes of him, yet he found it hard to get himself to care when you looked so downright adorable while doing it. His eyelids slid shut for a brief moment, being sure to completely savor the mouthful before swallowing with a bob of his throat and finally meeting your gaze with his own. “Bella…” Dazai started, hands unmoving, voice lower than usual. You furrowed your brows when you couldn’t decipher his tone. “What is it? Is it okay?” you leaned forward, eyes searching his face for any sort of indication. “Do… do you not like it?” something pulled tight in your chest at the thought, your grip on your fork stiffened slightly, “It’s okay if you don’t, you can say so.” The following heartbeat of silence felt like it stretched on for an eternity. “Bella you’ve ruined me,” he sighed dramatically, slumping in his seat and placing the back of his hand on his forehead in exasperation, “How am I ever supposed to enjoy anyone else’s cheesecake ever again?” His heart nearly melted when you paired a blink with the slightest tilt of your head, he could see the wheels in your mind turning for answers. “So you… do like it?” you spoke softly, as if afraid to disturb whatever strange state of emotion Dazai was using to express his feelings about the cheesecake. “No, my Dear, I’m afraid ‘like’ isn’t nearly a strong enough word, not even close!” he suddenly sat up straight in his seat, “I love it so much, I don’t think I’ll ever enjoy cheesecake ever again unless you make it for me.” Finally, Dazai gets his reward when a grin splits onto your lips. “Is that so?” you giggle when he cups your hands between his own and nods urgently. That smile of yours. “Absolutely. You’ve doomed me to a pathetic existence,” Dazai pretended to cringe in pain, “forever wandering in search of the joy I once experienced, never knowing if-” “...I’ll do it again,” you said, and his ears perked up. “Hmm? What was that? You’ll do what again?” he raised his eyebrows, satisfied with the flush now evident on your cheeks. “I’ll make you cheesecake for your next birthday, and the one after that, and any time you want some in between,” you smiled sweetly, and Dazai’s heart leapt at your sincerity. “Do you mean it?” his eyes seemed to light up slightly, matching the sparkle in your own. He squeezed your hands.

There was a saying in the Port Mafia. ‘The biggest misfortune for Dazai’s enemies is that they are Dazai’s enemies.’ Whether they called him a demon prodigy or the black wraith or a dog of the mafia really made no difference. When the sun set, they would be the ones quivering at the barrel of his gun as he listened to their pleas with cold, dead eyes. Dazai has been called by many names throughout his life; most, he knew, were well deserved. Even when addressed by his own name, it was usually out of exasperation, irritation, unease, or something else of the like. People spat his name with the bitter bite of a cold rain, and he couldn’t even remember the last time someone uttered his given name very tenderly at all. It was dangerous, Dazai thought, how easily he could see himself growing used to being with you like this. Pathetic, how the Demon Prodigy of the Port Mafia was reduced to a shell of himself the moment you offered so much as a smile. The way you said his name made him seem like something precious; something worthy of getting to see that smile of yours, to have your eyes light up when they meet his.

“Happy birthday, Osamu,” you said, and god your voice had never sounded sweeter. Yes, you’ve ruined him. Absolutely ruined him. Reduced him to a shadow of his former self with nothing but a bit of sweetness and an even sugarier smile, and the worst of it all was that you didn’t even know it. You tore away all those layers of bandages, you reached out and touched something Dazai didn’t even know he had. Even as his heart bled, you would cradle it close to your chest, whisper sweet nothings that everything would be alright. Dazai found himself inclined to believe you. Perhaps the reason he seemed to be without a heart for all those years of bloodshed, soiled bandages, and regret, was because it had been with you all along.

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

a/n: thank you so much for reading! it means a lot- i hope you have a lovely day/night/morning/evening and remember to drink plenty of water! divider credit: (x) (x) tagging: @ringsofsaturnnnn

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4dbarbie-archive · 1 year ago

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4dbarbie remix: You're dreaming from memory

4dkelly notes: This could be a good introductory pointer for those new to non-dualism. Probably my last remix for a while because they always start off as a fun or great idea that ends up taking way too much time and mental energy lol. Also I know it says 4dbarbie remix and it's because I extracted all the text from her posts but almost half of this adaptation post is made with direct or adapted excerpts from the book I Am That by Nisargadatta Maharaj as she often incorporated his words into her posts so it might be more accurate to call it a 4dbarbie and I Am That remix. I've marked extracts that are from the book with an asterisk (*). My highlight colour key: key concepts are in pink, action points in purple, really important points in red, my notes (which are minimal) in blue

There is nothing that exists. Only you do. 1 The only thing you know for sure is: 'here and now, I am'. Remove the 'here and now', the 'I am' remains, indisputable. The world exists in memory, memory comes into consciousness; consciousness exists in awareness and awareness is the reflection of the light on the waters of existence. 2*

The person is a very small thing. Actually it is a composite, it cannot be said to exist by itself. Unperceived, it is just not there. It is but the shadow of the mind, the sum total of memories. Pure being is reflected in the mirror of the mind, as knowing. What is known takes the shape of a person, based on memory and habit. It is but a shadow, or a projection of the knower onto the screen of the mind. 3*

You (Self) are projecting this very moment live. Nothing is happening to you, I mean literally. Nothing is out there. 4 Everything you see and experience is only a mental condition, a dream-like state, easy to dispel by questioning its reality. It's you imagining it as real and fighting it with all your might that keeps it alive. In this dream, you imagine yourself to be a process, to have a past and future, to have history. In fact, we have no history, we are not a process, we do not develop, nor decay. 5*

When you sleep at night, you think the world you're dreaming of is real. You wake up in the morning and you go on living in a different world, which you also think is real. But while you were in the first dream you had no memory of this world, did you? You come into the waking state and forget all about that dream (because you dismiss it as unreal & imagined so you have no reason to care once the experience is over). You're present in a second dream, and you deal with this one because now that's "what is real". But there is no difference between sleeping and waking, awareness is the background of both. You just think the waking state more real because you've dreamt it over and over and reinforced your belief. They're equally imaginary. 6

Each and every moment is projected on your consciousness but in reality, there is no link or cause between them. Memory gives the illusion of continuity and repetitiveness creates the idea of causality (e.g. I have blue eyes because I take after my mom). When things repeatedly happen together, we tend to see a causal link between them. It creates a mental habit, but a habit is not a necessity.* Drop it. You, now, even if recreated completely from memory and appearing the same, are still doing the creating/projecting live. It is all memory carried over into the now. You never move, your mind does. You don't arrive anywhere, you've always been there. You don't become, you already are. 1

Memory seems to being things to the present out of the past, but all that happens does happen in the present only. It is only in the now that phenomena manifest themselves. Thus, time and causality do not apply in reality. You are prior to the world, body and mind. You are the sphere in which they appear and disappear. You are the source of them all, the universal power by which the world with its bewildering diversity becomes manifest. 7*

You recreate the world every day from memory. There is no yesterday but your memory of it. There is no tomorrow but your thought of it. You are moving from now into now, and nothing has reality but in your mind. In deep sleep you are no one, no thing, you are not aware of being anything. You are just aware of being. There is no world, no one, not even 'yourself'. 8 In the absence of the mind, even the sense 'I am' dissolves. There is no 'I am' without the mind. All experience subsides with the mind. Without the mind, there can be no experiencer nor experience. 8*

Consciousness creates the mind which projects the world, built of memory and imagination.* You create a world, then you create an ego in it that is desiring some thing - look at it, you are doing that now. Stop the urge to create and recreate worlds of desires. 1 You don't have to live by memory. You can see the world as it is, a momentary appearance in consciousness. 7*

See all as a dream and stay out of it. While it lasts, the dream has temporary being. It is your own desire to hold on to it that creates the problem. Let go. Stop imagining that the dream is yours. 5*

Realize your true being, all else will follow and take care of itself. You will no longer feel the need to manifest or get things, because you see you are the one imagining the things. You already are, and if you want to observe yourself as 'something', you can. After you rid yourself of your belief that you are the ego, you no longer feel compelled in any direction whatsoever. You do not feel like you need to be the body you imagine you were born with (because you were never it in the first place), or watch Sandra's from afar. You’re free to do or not to do whatever you want; you are dreaming, and you know you are dreaming, there is nothing to fear or fight, because all is yours. The thing to do is to establish that permanently, for all time. Then you can play any part you so desire, and be totally unaffected by it. 3

Free from memory and expectation, you are fresh, innocent and wholehearted. Needing nothing, you are unafraid. Whom to be afraid of? There is no separation, we are not separate selves. There is only one Self, your Self. 1*

Become aware that the waking state is just a dream and life will forever be a breeze. 6 When the world is real, it is heavy. When the Self is real, the world is light. 3#

References

4dbarbie posts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

* Text excerpts from I Am That by Nisargadatta Maharaj

# from Keys to The Ultimate Freedom by Lester Levenson

#remix #4dbarbie #nonduality #non duality #nondualism #non dualism

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leqonsluv3r · 10 months ago

Note

Hey how's it going? I was wondering if you would do an imagine of re4r Leon x Wesker reader, where she is Wesker's daughter

heartbeat

re4!leon kennedy x weskers!daughter reader

— a oneshot (request)

warnings: MDNI, 18+, enemies to lovers basic troupe (bc i can and im a slut for it), some foul language, mentions of readers raging daddy issues (thanks wesker), age difference by like a few years (reader is 21 and leon is 27), reader is female and uses (she/her) pronouns, smut (obviously), unprotected sex (for the love of god please wrap it), praise (and some small degradation), hair pulling, he slaps her once, spanking, slightly soft!dom leon, bratty and stubborn asf reader and whatever foul things i’m forgetting

“he sees her in a way that makes her bones ache, like the oncoming of a storm or a tornado before it wipes people out. she sees it, whenever she’s unfortunate enough to run into him. she sees the way he looks down at her (and not just for her age, or her height) but for who her dad is. albert wesker. did she ever want to be born? carry that title at the agency? fuck no, she never did. but leon, looking down at her like scum off of his shoe…only made her burn more. in a way that was dangerous, yet thrilling.”

— or leon finally has enough of weskers daughters shit and decides to put her in her place

an: this request is hopefully what you asked for anon? and if not, so sorry in advance lol. i just took your idea and ran with it. also, it’s super long, i got carried away. also making up for how long i haven’t posted. pls enjoy <3

hate it’s a very strong word. it’s the only word she’s ever used to describe dislikes and things she’d rather not talk about.

she hates leon, even though she’s not supposed to. she’s supposed to like him, be buddy buddy with him but she can’t bring herself to be. not when he looks at her like she killed his family.

she didn’t, just for some context.

she’s tried to reconcile with the feeling of him glaring daggers at her every five seconds whenever they’re in the same room. or the way he looks when someone else mentions your name. it’s almost like a fun drinking game.

see how many times leon can glare at you in one social gathering before your hammered. she would play it if she drank, just to ease some of the tension of the heated looks that coated his blue eyes.

and what did she ever do to him anyways? absolutely nothing. she just existed and apparently, just like her father, that was enough to make her scum on the bottom of the hypothetical shoe.

her father, that was another reason she hated when leon would glare at her. it’s like that’s all he could see, she could see the hatred burn in his irises like the plague. a hatred for her, her father and seemingly all the things that her father had done wrong.

which was a lot, to be fair.

but having to be right next to leon, while your father talked to you both, it was like she was in her worst nightmare and she could pinch herself just so she would wake up.

that was what was happening right now, sitting in the organizations main office, ada standing idle at the door, almost as if she was guarding it from her or leon making a run for it.

she did not want to be here with her enemy and the guy she hates sitting next to her while they wait for her father. leon apparently didn’t want to be here either, if his grumbles and small looks of discomfort were any indicator.

he was literally sitting in his rivals office, sneaking glances at ada every so often, sending small glares in your direction, all while they waited for your father to make his designated appearance.

eventually ada gets uncomfortable with the silence and the looks and leaves, probably to stand outside the room. you thank god, crossing your legs in your chair and scooting it away from leon’s figure in the chair next to her.

it’s like the tension could be cut in this room with a knife, she could see him glaring at her out of the corner of her eye. subtle glares that she could pinpoint not just from her endless training but from the fact of leon’s obvious lack of subtlety.

“can i help you? or would you rather just keep glaring at me like i killed your puppy?” she says with a small sudden look in his direction, catching him head on. he scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest, tossing some of his hair out of his eyes, “i don’t have to answer you.” he responds.

“at least you can fucking speak. i thought you only could communicate with grunts and scoffs.” she says with a small sarcastic smile, looking directly at him as if to size him up or something. she knew she could probably take him if it came to that. the thought excited her but also made her heart pick up.

he mutters something to himself and doesn’t say anything, which is typical leon behavior when he’s even in the same vicinity as her. she didn’t know why her father wanted them both here.

and she had no clue why she was literally being forced to sit in a room with someone who avoided her like the plague. she shifts in her seat and looks down at her lap again, drumming her manicured hands against her knee and bouncing her leg as she waited.

the silence was almost as thick as the tension, it could probably swallow them both if they weren’t careful. “can you stop doing that?” she hears him say in a low voice. she rolls her eyes internally, what was his problem now?

“stop doing what?” she says in a small snap, obviously irritated as she whips her head in his direction to look at him. his blue eyes were hard, stone like and it felt like he could freeze her just with a look. she was surprised that she wasn’t.

“tapping your leg. moving it. just stop.” he says as he glances towards her legs crossed over each other in the chair, one bouncing regularly as she just sat there and did absolutely nothing.

seriously? what is his fucking deal? she thinks to herself as she rolls her eyes at him again, ignoring his request as she continues to bounce her foot in her chair. she simply uncrosses them and lets her boot clad feet rest on the floor, still bouncing one leg.

he shoots her daggers, like a look that could slice her skin clean open. she didn’t dare look at him, knowing that she was pushing him, making him more annoyed and irritated. but she didn’t really care, she just wanted her dad to be here so she could get the fuck away from leon and his penetrating look.

he doesn’t say anything, the glares and sighs and scoffs never ending as she kept bouncing her knee as she anxiously waited. eventually, he got fed up and slammed a hand down on her knee that was bouncing.

“enough. i said quit it.” he says in a low voice towards her, leaning over the arm of his chair so that he could make his message quite clear: don’t fuck with him. she swallows and her eyes go a tad wide, she looks down at the knee he’s holding, his hand so large over her knee it makes images appear in her mind that she wants to not have right now.

“okay, jesus. i won’t do it anymore, just let go of me.” she says in irritated tone, moving her knee and her entire chair away from him. he slips his hand away and just presses his lips together, his jaw clenching like a fist. she swallows subtly and just keeps herself away from him.

“good. your finally fucking learning something.” he says in a small smirk finds its way onto his lips, she doesn’t dare look over at him fully. settling for the peripheral view of him in his chair next to hers, sitting behind the desk.

she doesn’t have a chance to ask him what he means before the door opens and albert wesker finally makes his long delayed appearance. and for once, she’s glad her father is actually in the room, the lesser of two evils at the moment.

but it still rings in her mind, what did leon mean? what did any of this mean? and…why did that touch on her knee send her into such a wave of confusion? she’d hope that some questions would be silently answered soon.

turns out that the reason they were both there, was not for some lecture or some lesson. but rather for leon to teach her more about discrepancy during missions. which unfortunately for her meant that she had to train with him.

leon wasn’t thrilled about it either, he looked like he was about ready to punch her dad when he made the suggestion. and he argued, “why me? why not someone from this organization? why the rivals?” whining like a child who got paired with another child he didn’t like.

she would’ve laughed if her father wasn’t staring directly at her, glaring like she would get reprimanded for looking at him funny. but wesker didn’t answer leon’s question, just annoyingly stated that it was because he said, and unfortunately for the both of them thats how they ended up in their current position.

standing in a training room at the DSO, letting him attempt to teach her some moves. which if his instruction wasn’t good, she would be totally lost. at least he had that going for him.

she was offended by her father’s statement, not living up to his fucking beyond perfect standards. like no matter what she did, whatever mission she completed…it was like it meant nothing to him.

like she was just supposed to be just like him, stoic and untouchable. she wasn’t, she was nothing like him and he had to know that or he wouldn’t push her so hard and break her down like this.

knowing her weak spot of hatred for leon kennedy, using him as an excuse so she could get pushed harder and harder until she eventually broke into pieces. knowing how this would all play out, letting leon have his fun with throwing punches and swings her way like he’s probably always wanted too.

this is their third training session, the first two sessions spanned two weeks after the discussion with her father in the organization’s office. during this particular training session leon had been giving her shit, trying to poke at her, hitting all her weak spots that she didn’t even know she had.

“step into it and actually act like you want to hit me.” he says harshly as he looks down at her, his chest rising and falling fast as he pulls her up harshly off the matted floor. she swallows and tries to catch her breath.

“i do want to hit you. just not for training purposes.” she hisses as she lets him pull her up roughly by her arm, landing on her own two feet again, pulling out of his grab on her arm. he sends her a disappointing look, “funny.” he deadpans as he looks at her.

“oh yeah, fucking hysterical.” she moves back away from him, moving hair behind her shoulder as she does, going to the edge of the mat in the training room. he lets out a sarcastic chuckle, “maybe if you fucking hit me like you were supposed too-“

“shut up! shut the fuck up. i will hit you. i will.” she says in a hiss as she comes charging towards him, almost sprinting as she tries to land a punch to his face but he blocks her faster, holding her fist in his large hand. “enough.” he demands, pushing her fist away harshly.

he spoke in that same tone like he did four weeks ago and she felt something in her falter. something weaken, like a dying fire inside of her bones and body. she stopped, for her own good, dropping her hand back by her side.

“you need to stop being so fucking counter intuitive with your movements. i could see that weak punch coming from a mile away.” he explains as firmly as he could, sending a small look of irritation her direction. she catches the look, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest.

“and how does one do that?” she says with a small look of annoyance and obvious boredom. something happening within her at his firm tone that she couldn’t quite place. it just felt different, she didn’t know how to feel about it.

he takes a step towards her, slow and methodical. he takes her hand that attempted to throw a punch at her, he makes a fist with her smaller hand, forming a punch gesture. “this,” he raises her formed fist by her wrist. her breath faltering a little as he does this.

“you never ever want to form a loose fist, ever. first step,” he says with conviction and firmness, she can’t even pretend to be irritated. not now, not with his hands on her hand and his tone so firm and reprimanding.

“fist tight, curled knuckles but keep them out.” he says as he runs the pads of his fingers over her knuckles, smoothing them out as if they were ripples in the sea. she simply lets him, not having the fight left in her to even move. she simply swallows and nods, as if she could focus on his direction right now.

“second thing,” he holds her wrist up with the curled fist he formed with her fingers, “always aim with purpose. always throw your punch with intention.” he says firmly, looking down deep into her eyes as he did so the message came across.

he chuckles dryly, “not like you did before when you charged at me.” he states, holding her tiny wrist in his large hand. proving his point further by dropping her hand back down at her side. her fist uncurling as a breath is released from her lips.

“now, let’s try another defense, practice the punch and do what i told you. maybe you won’t be entirely unfortunate.” he says with a small crooked smirk, mocking her obviously as he backed up. she didn’t have it in her to poke him back, she didn’t even know what was happening to her.

like she had been reduced to a puddle at his hands, only a simple touch on her hand, a firm tone and a teaching. not even a lecture, just a simple firm instruction. she was confused, but she would continue.

even though her insides felt strange and uncomfortable, like a change that was happening inside of her that she couldn’t even pinpoint and she hated it.

a month into training sessions and she still felt that weird feeling in her body whenever his tone was firm and hard towards her, like a scolding parent.

but now it was different, she felt like she was suddenly awakened. like a part of her was different. she knew it wasn’t just his training. she could tell that much, leon must’ve sensed something.

because now he’s talking to her as they sit down on the bench of the D.S.O training room, her body turned towards him, crossing her legs in her lap. she sips from her water bottle, wiping her sweaty forehead as she feels his presence next to her on the bench.

“does it hurt?” he asks suddenly, making her snap her eyes towards him, her brows furrowed. she’s surprised he wasn’t bickering with her or lecturing her on her performance in his training he’s been giving her.

“does what hurt?” she asks as she swallows the water, looking at him, brushing some sweaty hair out of her eyes from her forehead. her water bottle clenched firmly in her lap, adjusting on the bench.

he sighs and leans forward a little, propping his elbows on his knees. she keeps her eyes trained on him, where they about to have a heart to heart? seriously? she could act shocked, but deep down within her she felt something shift. “your relationship with your father. does it hurt?” he asks in almost a whisper. like it wasn’t supposed to be spoken.

she parts her lips a little, glancing down at her water bottle as she tried to think of an answer. did it hurt? did the relationship with her father, the untouchable albert wesker, hurt?

if it was like asking if a cactus hurt if you touched it, or if fire burned you if you got too close.

she already knew her answer after a few beats of silence, keeping her legs crossed on the bench. she swallows, words that have wanted to be long awaited left her mouth, “yeah, it hurts. but not for the reasons you probably think.” she responds softly.

he glances over his shoulder at her, letting it sink in, letting her response soak into his bones. “what reasons then?” he asks her, moving some of his hair out of his eyes with a small move of his head. he needed to know if his suspicions were correct or not.

or if he had been hating her almost unprovoked by the simple nature of who her dad was.

she takes a glance back up at him, looking at the way his muscles strained against the back of his t-shirt that he had worn to training today. she feels heat pool between her legs and bites her lip, a response to his question on the tip of her tongue.

“he expects perfection, all the time. blood or not blood. and it’s like no matter what i do, no matter how many missions i go on, it’s never enough.” she explains as she tries to focus on the conversation with him, she can’t deny that her gaze on him could burn holes if she looked hard enough.

and the uncomfortable pooling in her underwear did not help this situation one bit.

but still she continues, “being his daughter is a burden when it should feel like a blessing.” she whispers as she blinks her eyes, the truth felt freeing even if it was to leon, an enemy almost turned acquaintance in this past month.

he looks over at her again, leaning up and settling straight against the bench. he looks almost like he’s finally understanding now. getting both sides of the story. like he had been looking at his enemy or his competitor as one, when really it was just her and wesker.

she wasn’t him, he knew that now. he needed to be sure and now he was. he felt guilty like he had hated this girl forever for no purpose entirely, just because her father had a tainted reputation within all agency’s.

“is it really that bad?” he asks softly, again, almost as if he’s afraid to ask it. like it had been so bad hypothetically and it was too much. leon fears he already knows the answer to his question.

his blue eyes look over her sweaty and worn out frame, sitting innocently criss crossed on the bench next to him in the training room. she looked like a hurt little girl who had scraped her knee on the pavement and now leon was the one to tend to her wounds.

not her father.

“my last mission, i went to aruba. i took down an entire fleet of enemies and people without batting an eye. i typed up the report, gave it back to him and instead of saying good job, anything…he told me that my diligence was sloppy and unnecessary.” she says with a small swallow as she looks down at her water bottle in her lap, blinking some water away from her eyes.

tears or sweat? who knew.

her hair followed her, curtaining her face only slightly. as she let out a pained laugh, shaking her head, leon had opened the emotional can of worms without even potentially realizing it. “as if me taking down people, almost an entire colony, meant nothing to him.” she cracks out, taking a small shaky breath.

she looks over at him with a slightly pained expression, moving her hair out of her eyes. he could see it in her eyes when she looked at him. he wishes he could fix what damage wesker had done by simply being her father.

but he knew he couldn’t. he could only stop hating her, and that was easier said than done. but he could try, make her have something or rather someone to latch onto, to reprimand her in a way that didn’t damage her self esteem.

“what if i told you that i don’t want to be at your throat anymore? what would you say to that?” he says with a small press of his lips, looking over her sweaty and exhausted body. his cock hardened in his training gear of the thought of what lie beneath her workout outfit.

god, what would her lips feel like? sucking him off, pretty and perfect as he slid his dick into her mouth. probably look up at him all teary eyed and desperate. hell, she would probably thank him for it.

he was trying to ignore it, his dick twitching in his pants as he saw her think over his words, the gears turning in her brain.

she felt her lips part, a small breath leaving her. was it shock? some undercurrent of happiness? she didn’t know she couldn’t piece it together right now. not when she was trying to ignore her arousal and stay focused on the words coming out of leon’s mouth.

“i’d like that a lot.” she responds with a small smile, one that he hadn’t seen before. one that she hadn’t let grace her face in years it felt like. he knew this wasn’t going to be easy, being so close to her now, not being enemies.

but still, that understanding was there. she didn’t need him hating on her anymore, sending glares that were clearly reserved for her dad, her way. she didn’t deserve that, even if her father seemed like the evil embodiment of everything he hated.

he could see she was nothing like that, he smiles only slightly and nods, “alright. friends? acquaintances?” he says with a small stick out of his hand towards her. she looks down at it, swallowing thickly, his hands painting images in her mind that weren’t exactly appropriate right now.

she nods, still smiling, “friends.” she says softly and reaches out to wrap her hand around his, shaking it. his size so clearly dwarfed hers. her heart swelled a little, her core pulsing.

they were both lying to themselves and so obviously aroused, it was only a matter of time before the tension snapped. and all hell would break loose.

the next week, she walks into the D.S.O training room and she’s nervous, nervous for what? she’s not even sure but she sees him sitting on the bench like he was last week when they agreed to be friends.

he sees her walk in, she notices something different in his gaze this time but she’s not sure what. he looks almost…hungry. like he could just devour her with one look. “hey, sorry i’m late…” she begins to apologize and he stops her with his words.

she drops her workout bag on the bench, “don’t worry about it. but i have something in mind that’s different today.” he says with a small glance over her legging and sports bra clad body.

he already felt half-hard, just looking over her body and her curves. how he could get over the hate, see her as something so attractive and so delicate was beyond his comprehension. all he knew was he had to have her now, he had been thinking about this all week.

she didn’t know what he meant, she did know that he looked at her in a way no one ever had before, something deep and unrecognizable to the untrained eye. “what did you have in mind?” she asks quietly as she looks over into his eyes, her body trying to find out what he had in store for her.

he got up off the bench and stepped towards her, looking down at her with his hungry blue eyes. “you’re attracted to me.” he just states, keeping her eyes pinned on his.

she blinked up at him and nervously laughed, “what are you talking about?” she tried to brush it off as she looks up at him, trying to fool him with a nervous smile. “are you…are you trying to mess with me leon? it’s not funny.” she releases a shaky breath again.

he chuckles, shaking his head as he looks down at her, finding her idea of trying to mask it adorable. he reaches up and tucks some of the loose strands of hair behind her ear. “no, i’m not messing with you. you need my guidance, you need to be taught a lesson. but i’m not doing it unless you want me to.” he says with conviction.

she shivers at his warm touch on her skin, simply innocent but making butterflies and arousal occur to her body. he wouldn’t do it…unless she wanted him too? what could he possibly be talking about? did he mean…?

“are-are you talking about…?” she breathes shakily as she looks up at him, her chest rising and falling fast as she does. “sex?” she whispers and it doesn’t even sound like she’s saying it. the words feel so alien coming out of her mouth.

he nods slowly, tracing his hand that was fixing her hair down to her chin. “if that’s what you want, yes. your attracted to me, i’m attracted to you and we don’t hate each other anymore.” he points these things out as a storm of emotions swirls around in her head.

he’s attracted to me? to me? the person he hated and glared at for as long as she knew him. she almost couldn’t believe it. but she got over it quickly, realizing that he was offering sex…with him to her so freely and openly.

“those are your only…reasons?” she whispers softly as she looks up into his eyes, blinking steadily as she tries to reconcile and decide within her brain what she wants to do.

“i have plenty of reasons. but those are the only ones you need to know right now. don’t believe me?” he says with a small look of intimidation in his eyes, because why would she believe him considering her history even though they were “friends” now.

she slowly shakes her head, he grabs her hand in a firm grasp like he did when he was showing her how to form a fist. he leads it down to the front of his pants, his half hard cock in his jeans resting underneath her hand. she swallows as she maintains contact with his pant clad erection.

“you see now? you understand? hmm?” he leans into her neck and whispers those words hotly against her skin, causing goosebumps to erupt all over; pebbling her skin. arousal finding its way uncomfortably more beneath her leggings.

she nods wordlessly, looking at him as he keeps his head by her neck, he chuckles lowly. “use your words, you know how to talk baby. i know you do.” she can feel his smirk against her skin as he says that.

“yes, i understand.” she says in a soft voice that sounds nothing like her own. she moves her hand from his erection in his pants to his chest, rubbing her hand over his t-shirt, feeling his muscles beneath it.

“good girl. now, i am going to fuck you.” he says in her ear, her hole pulsing at the praise around nothing. she doesn’t even have it in her to care anymore, she’s losing all sense of rational thought at his close proximity.

she hums, feeling his lips ghost over her neck as he dangerously presses a kiss to it her skin, nibbling at it. she finds herself making a small noise that’s trapped in the back of her throat.

she practically melts under his touch, grasping onto his t-shirt. “don’t worry baby. i’ll take care of you. tell me you want it. or should i find out on my own?” he says lowly in almost a predatory growl against her neck. she shivers at his words, only imagining what he could mean by that. “i want it. i want…i want you to fuck me.” she says in a slightly whiny voice.

it’s hard to believe that it’s even her, she feels nothing like herself pressed up against him, his lips nibbling and sucking at her neck, his hands ghosting her waist. she’s not in control anymore like she usually is and it feels nice to hand it over to him, especially like this.

he smirks into her neck again, pulling his lips away from her sweet pale skin. he chuckles lowly, “good. now,” he steps back and looks down at her, looking at her sports bra, “take that off.” she blinks up at him with dreary eyes, she follows his orders though.

not having it in her to say no at this point. she pulls the zipper that’s down the front of it, the material underneath a little sheer. he can see the outline of her hardened nipples barely underneath. she continues to take it off, unclipping it from the front and letting her breasts spill out of it.

goosebumps all along her bare upper half as she feels his lustful glare penetrating her chest. eyeing her breasts with hunger. she lets the useless sports bra slip onto the floor. the cold air kissing her skin.

he reaches out and massages her breasts, “mmm, imagined how they looked. gotta say, i’m not disappointed.” he says with a smirk, he guides her over to the bench, nudging her to lay down, her head resting on the bare wood as he straddles the bench. he grabs her legs lifting them up over his shoulders, each ankle resting on his shoulders.

“mmm,” he leans down and presses his mouth to her chest, taking each nipple into his mouth while massaging the other, tweaking the nipples in his hands. she writhes underneath him, making small noises, her thighs pressed up to her stomach as he leans over her and devours her chest.

she lets it slip once, only once and once it does she regrets it. everything just feels so good and his mouth working on her chest is enough for it to slip out in ecstasy. “daddy…” she moans softly.

her body freezes up a little, waiting for him to recoil, to push her away and make her put her sports bra back on. but instead he looks up from her chest, releasing one of her breasts with a small pop. his gaze even hungrier if that was even possible.

“you gonna let daddy fuck your pussy?” he says in a low rasp as he grasps at her chest again, massaging her breasts again that he had devoured. she doesn’t act shocked that he agreed to the name, she just nods mindlessly.

“good girl.” he says with a small chuckle, leaning back. he lets his hands slide down from her breasts to the hem of her leggings, pulling them down with fervor. he scoots back and pulls them off of her legs, throwing them on the floor by her discarded sports bra of the training room floor.

he gets up from the bench, popping the button on his pants and pulling them down his legs, kicking them off with his shoes, removing hers as well. she looks at his large erection that’s straining in his boxers, a small spot of precum on the top where the tip must be.

she swallows a small noise as she lays her head back down on the bench, her eyes staring up at the ceiling. he looks down at her body, “no underwear? did you know this would happen? or are you just being a naughty little girl?” he says with a mocking tone as he catches her trying to press her thighs together where she lays on the bench.

she looks up at him from where she lays against the bench, she shakes her head. “i’m not naughty. my underwear…they just get ruined too easily, daddy.” he tilts his head with a small smirk, “is that so? are you lying princess?” he says as he straddles the bench again, pulling her by her ankles close to his boxer clad erection.

she shakes her head feverishly as if she could lie to him, he leans over her, lightly smacking her cheek, “your just desperate for my dick baby? is that it? even being near me and your soaking.” he says with a small mocking laugh as she just gazes bleary eyed back at him.

the light tingle of his small smack against her cheek makes her body light up like an electric shock, her hole clenching around nothing. the degrading going deep to her core, everything that he’s saying is just making her painfully more aroused.

her core is practically aching for him at this point. she nods up at him, “yes, daddy.” she says with a small whimper, he smirks and shakes his head, looking down at her glistening pussy.

“mmm, yeah, pretty tits and a pretty pussy. your just a beautiful sight baby.” he says with a small hum. she feels herself whimper softly and become wetter at just his words of praising her body. “your practically leaking on the bench, but don’t worry. i won’t leave you waiting for long.” he says with a small smack to her pussy, making her back arch and release a strangled noise.

“dirty girl.” he says with malice, he gets up again, walking over to the training room door, locking it and making sure no one could even look in here. he then takes his shirt off and walks towards her again, “on all fours baby, do it for daddy.” he says with a small gesture of his hands.

she bites her lips and shakily gets up off of the bench and gets on all fours, he grabs her duffle and puts his t-shirt on it, moving so she can rest her head on it for stability. he crawls behind her on the bench, rubbing the flesh of her ass with his large hands.

“such a pretty ass too, baby. hmmm,” he says in fascination as he lightly skims his fingers over her asshole, making her keel forward a little into his bunched up shirt on her duffle bag. he grabs her hip with one hand, keeping her in place. “nuh-uh, no moving from daddy.” he says with a small groan. he lightly smacks her ass, making her moan softly into the fabric of his t-shirt.

he feels a grin slide onto his face, “you like that? of course you do. your a naughty little girl.” he says and adds another smack to her other cheek. she releases another muffled moan into his t-shirt again.

he chuckles slowly, licking his lips. he leans back and pulls his boxers down, releasing his cock. he sighs in relief, finally able to breathe a little bit. “i’ll give my baby what she wants, even if she’s a naughty little slut.” he says with another smack to her ass, she keels forward again, her stomach arching into the bench.

her hole kept pulsing around nothing again as he said that, going straight to her core. her body still practically aching at this point for his cock. he chuckles and grips his cock in one hand, moving it through her slick folds. he keeps one hand still placed firmly on her hip.

she whimpers into his t-shirt as she feels the head of his cock touch her clit, teasing her. “please, daddy.” her whimpers muffled into the fabric.

he smacks her ass lightly again with his free hand, “shush, princess. you’ll get daddy’s cock in a second. i just need to make sure your ready.” he says with a small chortle again, he rubs his hand soothingly over her lightly red ass cheeks.

he takes his time coating his cock in her arousal, making her squirm and make tiny noises each time he does. “mmm, i think your ready for daddy’s cock baby.” he says with a small smirk, rubbing her ass cheeks, with his firm hands, sliding one hand down to brush the tip of his cock against her wet entrance.

she moaned softly, “yes, daddy.” she managed to get out as he nudged his tip in her entrance. she let out a strangled noise as he stuck the tip in, her fists gripping at the bench.

“just the tip baby and your sucking me in.” he groans as he nudged his cock further into her pussy, stretching her out more. “daddy…” she moaned weakly as she felt some drool slide out of her mouth and onto his t-shirt that her cheek was smushed against.

“i know, i know…just a little more baby. you can take it.” he says with a strangled noise, gritting his teeth as he slides more into her pussy, his length all the way inside of her at this point to the hilt.

“uhh, d-daddy…” she feels her body go slack a little at the fullness of his cock inside of her from behind. she finds it hard to focus on anything else right now, the feeling of his cock inside of her was so delicious and distracting.

“keep moaning for your daddy, wanna hear you princess.” he says with a small groan as he feels her pussy flutter around his cock, he reaches down and grabs at her hair, a fistful of it in his hands as he starts rocking his hips slowly against her, his hips slapping against her ass as he does.

she feels her eyes roll back and flutter shut a little, practically drooling as he yanks her hair up and causing her head to look straight ahead. she moans softly again, adjusting to his length. his hips move a little faster as he keeps her hair in a tight fist.

“so fucking tight, jesus.” he grunts as he keeps moving in and out of her. she moans daddy again at each thrust of his hips. she feels so fucking full and it almost feels like her skin is on fire in the best way possible.

he keeps fucking her, his hips moving faster as he keeps one hand on her hip to guide her hips back in as he thrusts, his other hand tugging at her hair as she moans and whines. “fuck…daddy…mmm, i’m close…” she manages to get out as he keeps thrusting into her, hitting that spot inside of her that made her vision go blurry.

he keeps making small grunts and noises of pleasure, “let go baby, i’ve got you. cum all over daddy’s cock.” she keeps releasing noises at every slap of his hips against her ass. she has his permission and she cums on his cock with a few more thrusts and hitting her sweet spot inside of her.

seeing stars dance in her vision, her body dropping back to his t-shirt, her thighs shaking as she releases and clenches around his cock. he releases her hair, the other hand holding onto her hips, a low groan escaping him as he feels her cum all over his cock.

the feeling of her squeezing around him is addicting and he knows he won’t last much longer. he fucks her through it and chases his own orgasm.

she bites her lips as small tears leak out of her eyes at the overstimulation that he gives her from his cock still moving in and out of her. “shh, it’s okay…baby, i’m close…gonna cum inside your pussy…” he manages to get out in between strangled noises, his hair dampening with sweat slightly.

she cries in a small whine of pleasure as he finally releases inside of her with just a few more thrusts, her pussy milking his cum so he doesn’t spill a drop out of her. she feels her body go slack as she comes down from it all, her chest rising and falling against the bench where she stays bent over.

he rubs a small reassuring hand over the curve of her ass, “you okay? i didn’t hurt you did i?” he says with a small hint of clarity as he slightly pulls out of her. she shakes her head into the fabric of his balled up t-shirt.

“here, here.” he grabs his boxers, climbing off of the bench and pulling them over his legs, he sits down on the bench. “put on the t-shirt, then cmere.” he says in a gentle but firm tone. she shakily moves her limbs and grabs his t-shirt from where it was crumpled up on top of her duffle.

he grabs his sweat rag from his own gym bag, patting his thighs for her to sit on. she adjusts his shirt over her body and moves to sit in his lap, burying her head into his neck and holding onto his bare chest with weak fists. he cleans up the inside of her thighs, over her sensitive folds.

she shivers and tries to move away from it, “shh, it’s okay. it’s okay. i’m just cleaning you up.” he whispers into her hair, pressing a gentle kiss there. she nods slowly, her eyes fluttering shut and relaxing into his lap, he pulls the rag away and puts it in his duffle next to him on the bench.

“was that good?” he says into her hair, looking down at her face with a small crane of his neck. “yeah, it was good.” she smiles softly as she tilts her head up and opens her eyes lazily. he smiles and rubs a hand over her back in a soothing gesture, feeling his heart bloom into a cathartic way he hasn’t felt in years.

“how about i take you out for dinner sometime? hmm? properly treat you.” he says with small squeeze of her hip, she smiles up at him, nodding. “i’d love that.” she says with a small sigh of content.

she held him as he held her in the aftermath of their love making and deep down they both knew that this was the beginning of something new for the both of them. something real, something exciting and full of love.

they couldn’t wait for what the future held in store for them.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

taglist: @heartsforvin

(go to this post to join the taglist, pls reblog and follow for more, my asks are open in my bio. i love you all <3)

#leon kennedy #leon x reader #leon kennedy smut #re2 leon #re2 remake #re4 remake #leon kennedy au #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy drabble #re6 leon x reader #resident evil #re4 leon x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader

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gluion · 11 months ago

Text

here’s much to do with hate, but more with love ➵ lee sangyeon & lee hyunjae

non-idol!lee sangyeon x reader, non-idol!lee hyunjae x reader

when you land the lead role for your university's upcoming play, you expect your scene partner to be your best friend, lee hyunjae. but when your eyes discover a different lee beside romeo montague's, you're certain that the universe is not on your side.

genre/warnings ➵ enemies to lovers, slight friends to lovers (kind of), afab reader (they/them pronouns), university au, theater au (?), suggestive themes, drinking, pet names (sweetheart), huh yunjin is your bestfriend, i don't remember much from physics so my bad if angular momentum is not taught in college (or probably a basic lesson), kevin moon is the director and kibum from shinee is the teacher advisor, three different scenes and one flashback, p1harmony cravity twice and ive cameo too, theater kids do know how to have fun!, sangyeon macbeth burn, the scottish play is macbeth btw, theater superstitions mentioned!!

word count ➵ 6.1k words

taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @vernyangel @mosviqu

a/n ➵ here's my submission for the secret santa fic exchange of the deoboyznet! i got daisy @daisyvisions <3 i hope you enjoy this, and i hope i got to fulfill your request (and did justice to sangmil) <3 thank you to @vernyangel and @winterchimez for betareading this <3 also thank you to @shegotthewoobies and @sizzlingdino for sharing your theater knowledge <3 much love <3 i'll definitely consider writing a part 2 for this fic if anyone wants it :') for everyone, please don't forget to reblog (even if it's in your tbr) and leave feedback <3

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

To exist is to perform. At every waking moment—every second, every location, every play—is an audience ready to witness an act, regardless of whether they attended the first act or came in the middle of the third. To exist is to perform. No matter what role you signed up for, you’re left to act as your own backstage crew, cast, and director. To exist is to perform. There’s no such thing as intermission for the crowd remains rooted in their seats. To exist is to perform. You’re born an actor; nothing can change that.

There’s an unwritten contract that comes with being an actor; it is to understand your role and scene, and then immerse in what your character is undergoing. Let the curtains draw back and feel. And most of all, never allow the audience or your castmate to disrupt the show.

(It didn’t matter if you were performing for someone or no one. The roles you undertake are made for you, after all; it’s only right to perform, perform, perform.)

(And regardless of the nature of the role—ensemble or lead, it didn’t matter because they held their own value—you knew to perform it as if it were your last show. But you’ll never allow yourself to be a ham; you would rather have someone exclaim the official name of “The Scottish Play” in the theater—scratch that, you would rather hear “good luck” at every opening night.)

For today’s play, you’re left with a monotonous role—a university student forced to listen to the blabbering of a lecturer as they teeter on a tightrope. At any second, you swear you could almost slip and fall into slumber, but the sound of your professor clearing his throat is what has you scrambling back into focus.

“So, angular momentum.” God, you need to get out of here.

Before you can find yourself falling back into your thoughts, the table vibrates. You look down at your phone to see a text from your best friend.

jennikirin: GIRRRLLL… jennikirin: i just heard that sir key posted the casting list

Your eyebrows shoot up. With hands quick to grab your phone and type out a reply, the voice of your professor turns into elevator music.

y/n: HUHHH isn’t that supposed to be coming out next week??? jennikirin: YEAA but zuha told me that sir key and kevin wanted it up early just so they could start preparing for the production jennikirin: jichang told her btw HUEYIQEYE y/n: IMCRYAINDG!?!@?@ y/n: fuck ME now i have to sit through the rest of this class knowing that the list is out already??? jennikirin: DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED i’m stuck with sir son in stupid econ… jennikirin: like I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOU GREGORY MANKIW!!!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!! y/n: i’m learning about stupid angular momentum under sir won… y/n: like i’m only here because ITS A GENERAL SUBJECT!!! I’M AN ADVERTISING MAJOR?? jennikirin: nvm sir son is dismissing us early 💗 i’m bolting to that corkboard see ya y/n: FAWK YEWWWW

All you have to do is follow through with your role until the curtains draw close—a simple task that seems impossible to complete. If your knees were to hit the ground and your hands would come together in a prayer position, would the performance be life-changing that the show is cut short? Could you be free from your duty as an actor playing a student?

(And it’s funny because you spent countless hours studying and praying to get into this university; you were in no position to complain.)

“That’s it for today’s class! Please make sure to read up on—”

You were out of the classroom before you could hear your professor’s full announcement. The details of your next assignment don’t matter when your fate is stored in a paper posted on a corkboard.

(Though, you know it is a lie. You did need to pass Mr. Won’s class to get your degree, and you didn’t want to go through Physics a second time.)

The hallway is filled with rumbling students, off to go to their next class or itching to get some food during their break in between. As you made your way through, you could only spit out half-hearted excuses—Sorry! Just passing!—as you bumped shoulders with strangers. Different looks were thrown your way, apologetic and scornful ones to name a few.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, and you look down to see a text message from Yunjin. A sigh leaves you as you type out a reply while walking.

jennikirin: I JUST GOT HERE jennikirin: WRU y/n: OTW WAIR FIR ME jennikirin: BITCHHHH OKAY

Once you’ve made it out of the sea of extras, you can spot the brown corkboard surrounded by a crowd of students, and you can see your ginger-haired friend looking down at her phone. She’s pacing around, struggling to not look at the cast list.

“Huh Yunjin!” Her eyes land on you as you call out her name. You scurry your way to her. “Sorry! The hallways were packed.”

“It’s fine! Now, we need to check the casting list. I was practically dying not looking at it.” She tugs on your arm, maneuvering you both closer to the paper plastered on the corkboard. As she says excuses, you spot familiar faces leaving with different expressions—joy and disappointment to name a few.

You can spot Yoon Keeho and Hwang Intak walking away, sighs of relief leaving them. Shoulders down are what Kang Minhee and Ham Wonjin sported, a teary-eyed Song Hyeongjun trailing behind the two. Faces of those you knew during your time in countless productions, and others you’ve only met during auditions; they’ve read the paper that had their fates.

Every step is a dreadful one as you trudge your way through the crowd. (Or you could say being dragged by your best friend.) But before you can attest, you find yourself facing Yunjin, both of you only one look away from finding out your fates.

“Okay, are we ready?” Be still, your heart.

With one nod, you both look at the piece of paper that holds the names of those participating in the Romeo and Juliet production. As you spot Yunjin’s name beside Rosaline Capulet, your heart leaps at the sight.

“Oh my god, Yunjin, you GOT IT!”

“Y/N, YOU’RE JULIET!” You lock eyes with your best friend, eyebrows raised in confusion at her words. “Girl, look!” She moves your face with one hand and has the other pointing right where your name lands—Y/N as Juliet Capulet. Your hand reaches to your face, palm covering your mouth as you hold back a gasp. Mind jumbled, you didn’t know what to say.

Yunjin pulls you into an embrace, jumping in her place. “WE GOT IN!” Her cheer sounds throughout the hallway, earning stares from those surrounding you two and those passing by.

Your eyes trail down the list, trying to find someone’s name. The sight of your other best friend’s name has you smiling, but you’re pulled out of your utopia when you find it situated beside a character he didn’t audition for—Lee Jaehyun as Count Paris.

“Hyunjae didn’t get Romeo?” The whisper has Yunjin halting her actions.

Her eyes rest back on the casting list. “What? He didn’t get in?”

“No, he did, but he’s playing Paris.” With furrowed eyebrows, your eyes look to who your scene partner is; who is your Romeo Montague? And when you see the word “Lee”, you expect that Sir Key might’ve made a mistake and inputted Hyunjae’s name twice.

That is until you read the word that trails after the first—Lee Sangyeon as Romeo Montague.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Lighting erupts within you. The air current moves at a speed fast enough to form a tornado, and it just so happens that you’re in the eye of it. You’re face-to-face with a natural disaster, wondering its next course of action—to consume you whole or to leave you be.

Lee fucking Sangyeon; oh how you couldn’t even say his name without your blood boiling. Is there anything even good to say about the cocky motherfucker?

You shared the tragic fate of attending the same high school as Sangyeon. And just like you, he was in the theater club. At first, he was just someone like you—a student with a passion for acting. But the thing about Sangyeon is that he presents himself well, earning gushes from those part of the club, students and teachers alike. It seemed that he was the perfect actor, always landing the leading roles. At one point, you wanted to believe that it was because he was a good actor, but the reality unraveled itself when you saw what was behind the scenes.

Lee Jaehyun, or Hyunjae as he goes, shared the same dreams as Sangyeon. They both wanted to act, ideally landing leading roles. The passion the two shared should’ve fostered friendly rivalry, a way to propel them to reach heights never imagined. But the more Sangyeon received countless opportunities to play the lead role, the more Hyunjae’s determination started to crumble. What makes the whole thing even bleaker is that Sangyeon knew what his rival felt, and made the most out of that opportunity to tear him down.

What started off as genuine words of encouragement had turned into two-faced statements. And it hurt to see your best friend believe he was incapable of becoming an actor. If anything, you could name countless roles that he deserved to play the leading role, and many could agree with you. As your best friend started to crumble, you were driven by the desire to protect him. With every appearance Sangyeon made, your hostility towards him grew, and it didn’t help that he solidified it with only one interaction.

Scratchy; that’s what your sweater feels like against your skin. Perhaps it’s the heat of the hallway that has you wanting to strip your knit sweater off, or the material has just worn off. You tug on the collar, hoping that the discomfort will dissipate. Eyes trained on the corkboard that held the names of productions your club has done throughout the years, you wonder what role could you land for The Scottish Play.

It’s unlike you to audition for a big role, a leading role to be exact, for you found yourself growing comfortable in minor ones and ensemble. Yunjin has never been able to convince you to audition for the big roles, and your other friend, Kim Younghoon, could never find the right words to push you to sign up under a main character. But Hyunjae held some power over you—If you audition for Lady Macbeth, I’ll try out for Macbeth—and you couldn’t find it within yourself to say no, especially when Hyunjae was considering giving up auditioning for leading roles overall.

You can feel the coolness of the concrete wall against your nape. Hamlet, Three Kingdoms, Sweeney Todd, and more are the productions you’ve hesitated to audition for the lead roles. You close your eyes in an attempt to calm your nerves. One audition wouldn’t kick you out of the club, right? If Ms. Jang learned that you were unfit to be an actor at that moment, you put the blame on Hyunjae.

(But in reality, you knew you would blame yourself. Hyunjae wouldn’t be at fault for what Ms. Jang decides to do with you. Every failure you face is caused by you, and you need to take responsibility for each one.)

Then, the door swings open, and the cold air that the air conditioners of the theater expel hits your skin, causing goosebumps to form. A shudder runs down your spine. Your eyes peel open, and you’re ready to greet the person who exited the theater, about to wish them luck. But when you catch sight of the one person who has done nothing but tear your best friend down, the taste in your mouth is like acid.

His head whips in your direction, catching sight of you seated with the sample script that Ms. Jang provided resting on your lap. His eyebrows shoot up and his eyes trail you from top to bottom. “So, which one?”

The question catches you off guard. Although you didn’t like Sangyeon, you two didn’t really talk for there was no reason to do so in the first place. So, when he does decide to talk to you—like this moment, and it’s not like you two really talked until now—you find yourself surprised at the interactions.

When you tilt your head in confusion, he chuckles with a smug look plastered on his face. “Which of the Three Witches?”

And with just one question, you feel your resolve snap. For him to assume that you were auditioning for one of those roles felt like an insult. It’s not that you didn’t see the value of these roles; you know that the production is nothing without the people to fulfill the minor roles. But to hear such a question from him with his record of humiliating Hyunjae, you cannot help but believe he’s trying to do the same to you.

“I’m auditioning for Lady Macbeth,” you answer, venom laced with your tone. It doesn’t help that shock casts on Sangyeon’s features.

“Oh, I see,” he starts. He clears his throat, an attempt to hide his bewilderment, and shoots you a smile. “Well, I’d like to have you as my scene partner.”

Cocky—that’s all Lee Sangyeon will ever be. His ego has been inflated with all the leading roles he’s landed. You’ve never met anyone filled with pride like his; how could he prance around with confidence that he would get the role he auditioned for every single time?

You roll your eyes as you stand up from your seat, the script now in your hands. “I can’t believe you’re so confident that you’ll be playing Macbeth. Have you ever considered that maybe you won’t play the main role for once?” The glare you shoot at him does nothing to his pride.

“I don’t know, I’m pretty confident about the performance I gave just a few minutes ago.”

It baffles you. Sangyeon continues to prove that he’s never been given a reality check; maybe you should snap some sense into him.

“I’d rather settle for being part of the ensemble—no, having no role than play your scene partner.” If Sangyeon is thrown off by your statement, he does a good job hiding it, just like the supposed perfect actor when it comes to handling ad-libs on stage. He would never understand what it means to be an actor—what makes a production successful—if he didn’t appreciate the minor roles.

If he had something to say back to you, you don’t give him a window to do so for you have taken your leave. You first came with a desire for the auditions to be over, but now, you come with a desire to prove you’re an actor capable of any role. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought, especially whatever Lee Sangyeon seemed to think about you.

For the first time, you and Hyunjae played the leading roles in a production. Sangyeon was left as an understudy.

Although you were in university, it’s not that you could escape Sangyeon for you two were in theater. Thankfully, the productions you’ve had a chance to work on didn’t always have Sangyeon playing the leading role.

(Though, he did still play a handful. Perhaps he still held some charm over the university crowd.)

But due to the bigger cast and production team, it was usually easy for you to avoid him. You know when to take your leave, and you know to tune him out if you can hear him act (or speak, really). Nothing good ever comes out of interacting with Sangyeon; it’s best to limit your interactions with him for it would preserve your sanity.

But the universe seems to have other plans for you. Face-to-face with his name situated right beside the name in which your character is romantically interested, you cannot help but read his name again, and again, and again.

You wish that this is just a nightmare, that you fell asleep in the middle of Mr. Won’s class, and that you’re paying for the consequences by your consciousness presenting you with the worst outcome. God, you really did mean it when you said you would rather settle for no role than play Sangyeon’s scene partner.

Stupid Sangyeon, Sangyeon, Sangyeon. And as if it were the curse of the Bloody Mary, saying his name three times brings you to your demise.

“Huh, guess you ended up being my scene partner after all.”

You whip your head to where the devil stands, right beside you with arms crossed as his eyes remain on the casting list. His gaze lands on you, and a smug grin rests on his face. “I’m wondering if you’ll talk to Kevin or Sir Key about withdrawing from the production.”

His words make you frown. Before you can retort, he walks away, your eyes burning holes into his back. Yunjin could sense the rage within you and kept her hands on your shoulders in an attempt to calm you down.

An exasperated sigh leaves you. “I cannot believe that guy.” You look at your best friend who only holds an apologetic look. “Can’t believe I have to deal with his shit even ‘till now.”

“I know.” She bites on the inside of her cheek. Before she could say more, her phone vibrated in her hand. As she reads out the notification, she groans. “Fuck, I need to go. I just remembered I have a project to work on.” She stores her phone away. “Where are you headed?”

“Uhm, I’m gonna wait for Hyunjae,” you say as your shoulders sag down. As you hear your best friend hum, you spot a teasing smile resting on her lips and you roll your eyes. “You’ve got to stop that.”

“Stop what? I’m not saying anything,” Yunjin attempts to defend herself but you both know she’s far from innocent.

You shake your head, a giggle leaving you. “Whatever, go! I’ll see you later.” You’re left staring at the cast list as she takes her leave. Busy hands fiddle with your phone, clicking one of the contacts marked as a favorite. You bring it close to your ear, waiting for him to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hyunjae-ah, where are you?”

“I’m on the way to where the cast is posted!” His hurried reply signals that he’s running to where you are. “I just heard from Joshua that it was released early.”

You chuckle. “Yeah, I heard the same from Yunjin. I’ll wait for you.”

“No need to wait too long.” You look behind you to see your best friend standing a few meters away. His hair is tousled up from all the running but still falls back perfectly in place. His hand combs through it, a grin resting on his lips at the sight of you, as he jogs towards you.

“Hey, where’d you come from?”

His arm finds its spot around your shoulders, bringing you close to his side. All while he is transfixed on the castling list, your gaze rests on your best friend. “I just had Ethics—oh my god, YOU GOT JULIET!” He spins to face you and brings you into a hug.

“Yeah,” your arms find their place around his shoulders as his limbs rest on your waist. “But, you know, you got Paris.” When you lean back, you only see a grin on his lips.

“Yeah, but who cares? I mean, my sweetheart got the part she wanted.” There he goes again, using the pet name that started as a quip but still sticks years later. You roll your eyes at his remark, but before you can say any more, he beats you to it. “Don’t think about backing out now.”

A sigh leaves you. “But,” you glance at the name of your (and Hyunjae’s) enemy, “I’ve gone through enough of him in high school. Can’t I live my uni life in peace?” You pout at your best friend, and he chuckles at your behavior, cheeks dusted with hues of red.

“Do you really want to give him the satisfaction of making you quit such a big role?” Would it be that bad to say yes? “C’mon, playing Juliet is a huge deal! You’re destined to play that role! And, I mean, you wouldn’t want to disappoint Sir Key and Kevin…”

God, it did hurt you to agree with Hyunjae. You didn’t want to waste the time and effort Sir Key and Kevin Moon, the teacher adviser and the director, must’ve put into crafting the cast list. But to go through months with Sangyeon, all for a university play? It’s not that you were pursuing a career in theater, or acting for that matter.

But would you from a few years back—a high schooler who treated every theater production as if it were a Broadway one—say the same thing? Is this the role you wanted to take on as an actor, one willing to step down over a nuisance?

With one sigh, Hyunjae knew what your answer was. He smiles before dragging you away from the piece of paper that seems to only bring downpour. “I don’t know if this will make you feel better but I heard from Changmin that there’ll be a house party. Maybe we can drink the sour mouths away.”

“Drink the what away?” You chuckle at his choice of words. “Hyunjae, I’m so glad you aren’t a scriptwriter.”

He scoffs at your insult, “But you get what I mean.”

“I do not.”

He rolls his eyes, playfully shoving you which causes you to giggle. “Let’s just drink the bitterness away. We could be meeting our other castmates and the prod team, maybe getting to know them more.”

You cannot help but hum as you ponder over your schedule for the rest of the week. “I don’t know. I have this one homework for Mr. Won’s class that I sure as hell don’t know how to answer. I mean, I don’t even know what the instructions are!”

“Ah, just trust me! I’ll help you out with that. Just,” he stops you two in the middle of the hallway. There were barely any students for they scrambled off to their respective classrooms or looked for lunch. He pouts at you, his hands now holding yours as his fingers draw circles on the back of your dorsals. “Go with me, will you?”

It doesn’t take you a moment for you to make up your mind; you’re sure the trade-offs that come from that party won’t save your ass from Physics or Sangyeon.

But when Hyunjae leans in, his lips ghosting your ear, your breath hitches. “I’ll take good care of you, sweetheart.” You’re nothing but a puddle (and a sheep). So once he leans back, you nod. At the sight of your confirmation, he smiles. “Okay, let’s go have lunch.”

You can only hope that Hyunjae (or any of your friends, really) understood annular momentum, or whatever it’s called.

(You truly are a lost cause in Physics, and you’ll be blaming it on Sangyeon. Every inconvenience is caused by him, anyway.)

For anyone who thinks theater kids couldn’t party, they’re wrong (partially, only). Sure, there were the occasional show tunes that played from Kevin’s playlist, and a certain someone named Ju Haknyeon who belts out of the blue, but no one complained.

With only a few drinks in, you and Hyunjae are buzzed. And although you both agreed on using this party as an opportunity to get to know the other members, you still found yourselves sticking together—shoulders bumped, hands laced, or arms wrapped around each other.

Now, you two along with Yunjin and Younghoon were hanging out in the kitchen, not away from where the crowd was but quiet enough to have your own conversations.

“You know, I finally got to talk to Jihyo,” Yunjin says before taking a sip from her drink.

Younghoon tilts his head. “Park Jihyo? The one playing Lady Capulet?” A hum of confirmation leaves her as she continues to drink. “Did you see her audition for The Baker’s Wife for Into The Woods?”

Yunjin nods, letting the rim of her cup leave her lips and smacking Younghoon’s arm repeatedly. “I was able to sit in for the auditions because I signed up for prod team instead. Girl, I can’t believe she didn’t get the part.”

“Yeah, didn’t Rei get the part instead?” Hyunjae asks to which Younghoon nods.

“Didn’t she audition for Little Red Riding Hood?”

Yunjin shrugs at your question. “I’m not sure, but I do see her playing that role versus the wife.” She sets her cup on the kitchen counter behind her. “Don’t get me wrong, though. They’re both outstanding actors but I would’ve changed the casting. Some of them would’ve played different roles that suited them vocally and acting-wise.”

“Well,” you sigh. “You know that some directors are just batshit blind.” Hyunjae cannot help but elbow you, earning a whine from you as he chuckles. “I’m serious, though! Like, look at Hyunjae! He’s the perfect example.”

“Ouch. Thanks for reminding me of my tragic history.”

You roll your eyes at Hyunjae’s words, the playful tone evident in his words. “I’m just saying, some directors don’t know what they’re doing.”

In no way did you have anything against Kevin. You’re certain that he knew what he was doing; it didn’t sit right that Hyunjae lost a huge role to the same prick who couldn’t get off his high horse. But there is no point in contesting because your best friend wouldn’t allow you. All that mattered to him was that you got the role.

“Yes, but I trust Kevin. Honestly, I’m just glad I still landed a role,” Hyunjae shrugs as he sips.

Younghoon hums along. “Exactly! I heard Hyeongjun didn’t even make it to ensemble.”

A groan rips out of your throat, knowing that the two made a good point. “Yeah, I trust him, too. I just,” you shake your head at the thought of your enemy. “I’m just sick of Sangyeon.”

At the mention of the devil’s name, you feel an arm wrap around your shoulders, your shoulder hitting against something firm. And when your eyes drift to the stranger, you’re met with the bane of your existence.

“Talking about me, sweetheart?”

To hear Sangyeon use that pet name had your stomach churning. You plant your hand against his chest in an attempt to push him away, but you feel his pecs through the white, cotton material, and you quickly retract it. Instead, you shrug his arm off.

“What are you doing here?”

His gaze rests on the boy beside you, shooting him a smile. “Shouldn’t we use this time to build our chemistry?” To others, Sangyeon may have genuine enthusiasm to get to know his scene partner, but you and Hyunjae knew that his grin held nothing but arrogance.

You move closer to Hyunjae and his hand finds its spot on your waist. Sangyeon’s eyes flicker to your best friend’s hand but he still holds the same smile.

“Sangyeon, it’s just acting. I can easily fake chemistry,” you shake your head, trying to scoot even further towards Hyunjae. There’s barely any space between you two. “Unless your supposed great ass can’t fake it. Did all those years spent in theater not teach you anything?”

There’s no way to fake chemistry; everyone knows that, from actors to audiences. But when you’re face-to-face with Sangyeon, you would take any opportunity to get back at him for what he’s done—not only to Hyunjae but to you, as well.

Despite your words, Sangyeon’s expression never wavers. Stoic Sangyeon—he always knew how to get on your nerves. “Isn’t the point of this party to get to know each other?” You roll your eyes, looking away to give your eyes a break from the nuisance.

But when you feel his breath fanning against your left cheek, you’re afraid to say anything. The distance between you two right in front of your friends makes it feel like it’s forbidden, especially when Hyunjae has his arm wrapped around you.

“Especially with our kissing scenes.”

A chill runs down your spine. You know what he’s doing—embarrassing you in front of your high school friends just to rile you up, and rubbing it into Hyunjae that he got the lead role once more. Whatever place Sangyeon first held in your life didn’t matter anymore; he’s dug himself deeper into the pits of hell that you never knew of until this moment.

You want to push Sangyeon off and drag Hyunjae out of the house, alone together and far away from him, but a booming voice breaks the tension.

“Wow! It’s nice to see our Romeo and Juliet getting to know each other,” Kevin comes into the kitchen with a grin and gains everyone’s attention.

Under the gaze of your director, you don’t think twice about what you do. “Yeah!” Your arm quickly links with Sangyeon’s, and you notice Sangyeon freezes up. It’s out of character for you to do such; you can only imagine the expressions of your friends. “Just old friends catching up, right?” When you look at Sangyeon, you notice a flicker of confusion in his eyes, but your forced smile is enough for him to get the message.

“Yeah,” he smiles at Kevin. “I’m just glad that my Juliet is someone I know.” My Juliet? Oh, you’re going to be sick.

Kevin is amused with the newfound information. “I didn’t know you two were friends! I never see you two interacting.”

Perhaps your animosity towards Sangyeon is obvious but you weren’t going to allow the feud to get in the way of the role of a lifetime—Kevin can never know about the water that has gotten stained with red.

“Oh, we all went to the same high school.”

“Same theater club, too,” Sangyeon chimes in.

Kevin looks at everyone with amazement. “Oh, that’s so cool! From the same high school to the same university. I’m sure you’re all happy to see each other in the theater scene again.” Everyone but one, really.

“I’m looking forward to seeing everyone work in the production,” his eyes rested on you and Sangyeon once more. “Especially the chemistry between you two.”

When Kevin takes his leave, you all bid him farewell. And once he was an earshot away, you shrugged Sangyeon off. “See? I can fake chemistry.” Your glare finally causes a small reaction from him—the startled expression on his face makes you reign victorious. “Clearly, you need to work on that.”

If Sangyeon wants to retort, you don’t allow him to do so as you leave the kitchen with Hyunjae’s hand in yours.

A few hours have passed since Sangyeon decided to come and dampen Hyunjae’s and your moods. Thankfully, you haven’t seen him since but it could be because you were too drunk to care, or maybe you were too distracted by the boy whose lap you sit on.

“Hey, why don’t we get out of here?” Your best friend’s lips graze your ear. His hands hold onto your hip, his thumbs drawing patterns on the exposed skin that’s starting to peek. You giggle as you shake your head, earning a chuckle from him. “Why not?”

His whines have you dizzy (or it’s probably the effects of the alcohol), but you do your best to answer. “Hyunjae, we’re supposed to be getting to know our castmates better. Isn’t that why you asked me to go with you?” As you looked at everyone in the living room, you know for sure there was no chance to talk to them anymore for they were too intoxicated to remember tonight’s events.

When he presses his lips to your jawline, you cannot help but close your eyes at the sensation. “Yeah, but we aren’t even talking to anyone. Why don’t we just go back to your place and just, I don’t know, make out?” He whispers the last words as if it were taboo.

This is what you and Hyunjae were—friends who couldn’t help but enter territories that blur the line between platonic and romantic. Since you two first entered university, you and Hyunjae couldn’t seem to keep your hands to themselves, always finding their places on each other. It started in such a blur—at a party just like this, both intoxicated—but both of you couldn’t help but keep it going. You still limited your relationship to occasional make-out sessions and snuggling, but you never went past such stages with him. The two of you didn’t mind the unclear boundaries, anyway.

“I don’t know,” you finally look at your best friend. His eyes seem to glimmer, and the heat rushes to your cheeks. “I haven’t gotten to talk to Daniel.”

His eyebrows shoot up in amusement. “Kang Daniel? The one playing Lord Capulet?” As you hum, he chuckles. “I can’t believe you’re thinking of another man while you’re on my lap, sweetheart.” There he goes again, using that pet name.

“What do you mean? I just want to get to know my castmates better.” The teasing tone is evident. You crave the attention—the possession—Hyunjae seems to have for you.

And when his nose brushes against yours, all thoughts are knocked out of you. “Sweetheart, you don’t need to know anyone else, not even their names. You already have me.”

For a moment, you almost think this is it—the two of you will enter domains never traversed and there will be no way to go back from it, but you don’t mind, not with him, anyway.

His eyes flicker to your lips, and you hold your breath. “Don’t do that,” he chuckles. “You need to catch your breath before I take it away.”

Before he can do anything, you feel the couch move as someone takes a seat beside him. You’re ready to put some distance between the two of you, but when your eyes land on the stranger, you realize that the universe is not by your side or Hyunjae’s.

Hyunjae scoffs and his hand cradles your face, an attempt to get your attention back, but your blood boils over the sight of the same guy who always ruins everything.

“I didn’t know Juliet gets so touchy with Paris.” Sangyeon’s comment has you rolling your eyes. Clearly, you’re too distracted by him, and Hyunjae can’t do anything but give up. Instead, your best friend just settles on holding you close to him while your gaze remains on the devil.

“What’s with you? We don’t have to talk to each other unless it’s for rehearsals.” A frustrated sigh leaves you. “Don’t you know that all we have to do is act?”

When all you’re met with is the same cocky smile he flashed Hyunjae back at the kitchen, you shake your head. You’re about to glance at your best friend, prepared to tell him that you two should leave and retreat to your place.

That is until you feel someone’s fingers hold onto your chin, redirecting your gaze to Sangyeon. Now, you’re face-to-face with Sangyeon, the distance between you two is even smaller in comparison to when you were in the kitchen.

The air is knocked out of your lungs, your eyes looking right at Sangyeon’s. Whatever you looked like had him smirking—you were defenseless against him for once.

“Can’t handle it?” The question is meant to provoke you, have your blood boil so that you scream profanities at him. You’re sure he’s pertaining to all the little stunts he’s been doing; teasing you to get a reaction from you, acting like you two are friends, and making comments about your acting experience.

But for a second, you almost think he’s talking about himself—could you handle him not only on the show dates but also be surrounded by him for the upcoming two months?

And once more, your brain turns into mush. The lights become streaks of different colors, and they do their job of making Sangyeon look different—still the same cocky motherfucker, but now, you want a taste.

Your mouth goes dry and you’re scared to exhale, but Sangyeon only smiles before letting his hand leave your chin. It’s clear he’s happy by your soundless reaction. When he stands up from the couch, he glances at Hyunjae, and his smile turns almost sinister.

You would’ve said something like you always do, but you’re unable to form a coherent sentence. You’re intoxicated; the alcohol’s still in your system, but Sangyeon’s gaze shows that the drinks you’ve had are nothing compared to him.

With that, he takes his leave. Whatever moment you and Hyunjae shared is now lost—all thanks to Sangyeon, once again.

if you enjoyed reading this, please do reblog with feedback!

#deoboyznet #dbn: holiday party #kflixnet #bjnet #k-labels #works of moni #the boyz #the boyz x reader #lee sangyeon #lee hyunjae #lee jaehyun #lee sangyeon x reader #lee hyunjae x reader #lee jaehyun x reader

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qqueenofhades · 9 months ago

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Is it normal that I’m legitimately so scared of saying pretty morally tame things like “I don’t want to talk about genocide because it makes me severely uncomfortable” or in general expressing my political opinion.

Like i’m not even kidding when I say that all my drafts are just my possibly offensive (probably not) political takes i’m just so scared of everyone leaving me it’s not even funny.

Anyway i also think that if you talk about Palestine but not Ukraine you are a victim of Russian Propaganda™️

I’m sorry I don’t know why i did this have a nice day ok baiiiiiii

Here's the thing. You and every other average social media user should not have to masquerade as a sudden in-depth expert on every single social, political, humanitarian, etc. crisis that we are dealing with in this wretchedly miserable excuse for a timeline. It should not be a baseline expectation on you that when you log onto your little social media in your little average life, you have to come up with The Correct Opinions on everything and if you don't, you're "perpetrating oppression" by not vigorously spreading misinformation, instead of simply admitting that you don't know what to do, you as an average citizen are not in a position of making this change and therefore don't actually have to spend every waking minute obsessing about it, and that maybe, just maybe, you'd like to spend more time informing yourself until and/or IF you decide you want to talk about it. This is the same as the Instagram Activists (TM) who traumatize themselves to the point of PTSD by constantly consuming torture and/or war porn and/or graphic content about murdered children because they "don't have the right to look away." Actually, you do. You are able to make choices to control your personal social media use and to set boundaries as to what you do and do not want to do and/or see, rather than insisting that the only moral choice is to literally mentally destroy yourself with all the weight of human suffering in the world and then expected to act as a de facto expert on all of it, on pain of being Cancelled. This is a stupid, irrational, unhealthy, and generally idiotic expectation. You should not have to take part in it. Nobody should.

Likewise, I think that this is a large part of why people are so scared to voice any opinion that goes against the Prevailing Groupthink: they are afraid of losing friends, of having nasty bad-faith internet trolls say mean things about them, being accused of being a "bad person," or otherwise being guilt-tripped, shamed, and blamed for not centering their entire existence around something that they cannot actually do anything about. Once again, people think the only way you can be Known to Oppose Something Problematic (tm) is if you post on social media about it all the time. Forget whatever you might be doing offline, in your real life, or otherwise; it "doesn't count" if you don't make a big virtuous display of your Rightthink, or you will be viciously harassed. Now, look, I am old and/or tired enough that I don't give a shit what stupid internet users say about me, but I can tell you that I sure did when I was younger, it was incredibly painful to be on the end of those kinds of attacks, and it's (again!) not something you should just have to expect as a baseline level of gaslighting and harassment. As I have said. This is Tumblr. It is a stupid blue website mostly for fandom and/or three in-jokes. This is not a platform where we are expected To Do Social Justice all the time, nor should it be. As for Elon Musk's Twitter: yeah. No.

Also: yes, if you do spend all your waking moments obsessing over Palestine, but say nothing whatsoever about Ukraine and/or openly support Russia, you are in fact very much a victim of Russian Propaganda and you 100% support genocide when it's done by an "anti-western" state that you support for that reason alone. You only care because you can use the cause to make yourself look morally superior, and it has nothing whatsoever to do with opposing genocide on a basic, universal, or fundamental level. The end.

(I hope you have a nice day too. The anger in this is not directed at you. I support everything you've said here and hope that you're able to set healthy boundaries and protect yourself.)

#wolfieisacat #ask #politics for ts #apparently i am in a fighting mood today #so i might as well get it all out

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additiva · 3 months ago

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Last line game!

I got tagged by @drivestraight 🤍 and this time I actually have something to post bc I was writing during FP2 lol. But it's going to be a brief snippet, not a line.

Who knows if it'll turn into anything.

Anyway I'm sure many of you have already done it, but I'll tag @powerful-owl @eirianerisdar @formula-fun @foggieststars @liesmyth

No pressure tho!

Snip below the cut ->

The truth is, Max finds Charles unbelievably annoying.

He's chaotic and unpredictable. He's staring at Max across the club one moment, and in the next, seems to have forgotten he exists.

He swaps clothes with people at random, whipping off his faded Gucci t-shirt in the middle of the dance floor, to trade it for some girl's crop top, laughing and crowding close to her to block the view of her breasts while they make the exchange.

When he disappears to the bathroom, Max never knows whether he'll reappear with glitter on his eyelids, or white powder on his nose.

He never pays for his own drinks, but he never gets too drunk. He never passes out or gets sick; always sharp: sharp eyes, sharp tongue.

He flirts with every person in the room, and probably sleeps with them too.

He sucks and tongues obscenely at a lollipop all night, making sure Max is watching as he hollows his cheeks and lets his eyes flutter shut, then he leaves with someone else.

He ignores Max completely, then goes home with him.

Not always.

But sometimes.

He's always gone when Max wakes up; nothing left behind, nothing missing.

He refuses to stay the night, but refuses to let Max forget him. And he refuses to let Max know anything about him.

#lestappen #snip #au

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grapefives · 2 years ago

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LET ME BE HONEST | HC

luffy x gn!reader

post time-skip (fishman island) + flight luff + light angst + realization of feelings + oblivious luffy

A/N : light fluff cus idk how to write fluff. lowkey this is probs off character but wtvr

the day his crew disappeared from sight, one after another, was one of the worst days of luffy’s life

tragedy after tragedy, he kept feeling on edge and absolutely useless. and after ace’s death? he didn’t know how to live anymore

his crew was everything he had left now. and while reminiscing that and acknowledging how he has to keep going, how his nakama are dear to him, deep down, the strong urge to see you first ignited

from time to time, he’d visualize your smile, your laugh. he’d remember how you’d joke around with sanji, straying away from an initial memory of how good sanji’s food is. that craving for sanji’s menu straying to a craving of you.

whatever initial thought he had started with on his moments of thinking to himself, they’d stray to you.

as he travels back to sabaody, he wonders. when did these feelings surge?

was it because of how close you to had become during the first few moments in sabaody, and then being ripped away from his grasp to disappear into thin air, screaming for luffy, that made him think of you the most?

the way you were the last to escape his efforts pf saving?

no, it couldn’t be that. he’d always had an eye out for you. he realizes this when he finally sees the others on the new ship, how his eyes dart from one face to another, bright and joyful, but grow more when they land on you.

it’s an afterthought, his feelings, after that. he stands firm with the belief of suppressing them. not wanting something to give him a minor setback like these last few times.

if he loves you, and you two hit it off, he wouldn’t stand losing you. not again, not when, hypothetically, you two were now one.

it’s dumb, probably, but…

“luffy, have you eaten?” you ask gently, but there’s still a firmness to your voice, as you pull him away from the bubble’s wall.

“y/n i’m trying to catch fish for a reason,” he says playfully but to his surprise it comes out cold and harsh.

you give him a bizarre look, and drift your attention to what zoro says instead, and luffy almost complies to poking holes in the bubble, to which usopp and chopper hit them for.

to their dismay, sanji enters a frenzy drop so it diverts everyone’s attention to the food luffy brought and decided to share.

one thing luffy seems to forget to acknowledge is how impulsive he is.

he grabs enough food for himself sure, stuffing his face full as everyone listens to franky, but he eventually notices how you hand him meat once he’s done with the previous one.

when your hands finally touch, he blinks at you, and your small, soft smile makes his heart leap to his throat.

“gimme that,” he says as he yanks the meat from your hand and scarfs it down.

your laugh rings in his ears.

“there’s plenty more, captain.” you say, and he feels himself blush at the attention you give him.

time goes on and as they (him, sanji and zoro) return from their side quest (taming the octopus) you voice out your worries but still praise them for taming such a creature

for some reason, when luffy tries to ignore something, it bugs him even more.

and recently, he’s become hyper aware of your existence.

when the bubble pops in their escape from the fishman pirates, he’s aware of how close you were to him when the current dragged everyone

yet, when he wakes up, his immediate reaction was to question his surroundings and reach out to you

mildly upset at the separation, he ignores it and goes on with the journey. eventually, he finds you again, with brook.

“hatty! how about we go for a meal? i believe you mentioned something that i believe my captain would love,” you say as you walk away from brook being bombarded with mermaids.

“i was getting to that,” pappagu grins, “what do y’all say to some sea-monster meat?”

“YOU HAVE MEAAAT!?” luffy is delighted, to say the least.

and his feelings for you are an afterthought he desperately tries to suppress. this sudden raging desire to have you close, to keep you safe enough is driving him insane.

don’t get him wrong, he knows you’re strong, he knows you can fend for yourself, but this fear of losing you like he had two years ago, without knowing (only hoping and trusting) your situation gives him serious nerves.

but he’s your captain, he has to worry for you. every now and then. sometimes.

but man, seeing you light up at his jokes, and seeing you safe and sound with the others makes him feel so good.

and knowing you’d follow him through and through just makes him feel a certain way.

“LUFFY, YOU SHUT UP!! I’M DECIDING WHERE WE GO FROM NOW ON!!” nami screams.

“HELL NO! I’M THE CAPTAIN!!” luffy barks.

with a laugh, you say “he’s the captain.”

“Y/N WHO’s SIDE ARE YOU ON!” usopp grunts.

and as they go up to the surface once more, exited for a new adventure and getting closer to his dream, he reminisces once more.

he has his nakama, all that’s left for him.

but…

“y/n,” he calls for you unconsciously as you walk by.

you pause, giving him your undivided attention.

“yea?”

“are you ready?”

“for the new world?”

he nods.

you smile, so bright. “nope, but i’ll follow you,” you me eyes are warm and your aura is gentle, “through and through.”

but luffy… as he stares at you, feels his feelings surge with more force.

he can be a little more selfish. he could take advantage of what the world has put in his hands.

“good,” he says with a smile, “cus i need you.”

“i’m at your service-“

“more than a nakama.”

you blink, surprised and taken aback. “m-more?” you furrow your brows, heat threatening to reach your cheeks.

“more.” he says softly. so soft you couldn’t believe this was luffy, your loud and impulsive captain.

but… this was also impulsive, you can tell when his face freezes.

“are you sure?” you ask, your heart hammering.

“when am i not sure of something?”

you stare at him before cracking a smile, “ah.”

“it was driving me crazy.” he pauses, then looks to the side, puckering his lips shyly, “you.. you were driving me insane.”

“didn’t seem like it,” you tease. it was true but you knew deep down there was no chance, or so you believed. after all, he’s your… “captain.”

luffy blushes, “i didn’t know… what.. or … how.”

“i’m glad you’re honest,” you smile, “luffy.”

and his ears ring, eyes wide and amazed. you’ve only called him captain.

“i’ll work hard,” he says.

you burst into laughter, “luffy,” you say as you put a hand on his arm, close enough to see his red ears. “go with the flow. we’ll be fine.”

“yeah,” he smiles a bit, darting between your lips and your eyes.

and luffy is impulsive. but above all, he thinks he’ll add in love to the list as well.

#luffy x you #one piece #luffy x reader #one piece luffy #one piece x y/n #luffy x gn reader #gn reader #one piece x reader #anime hcs #one piece hcs #luffy headcanons

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dearmrshudson · 7 months ago

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The post of saddest(?) supernatural moment gave me the idea to maka a list of my own... You know, an honest list which will not push any agenda or exclude one of the main character completely to forcefully feed to a romantic pair which does not even exist.

so here it goes-

10. Dean's reaction after Sam's death in 13x21 :

This one is so nominal and insignificant to be in this list and not one of top moments for a lot, but this scene ripped my heart open when I saw it for the first time. It manages to show us how Dean's whole world will literally fall apart and make him an empty vessel if Sam is gone and he can do nothing about it - and Jensen manages to portray it with just a walk, two blank eyes and then one drop of tear. Kudos.

9. Church Scene in 'Sacrifice' (8x23):

Anyone who has not cried in this scene? Perfeftly shows the core of the show, the deep love between two brothers- despite all the reasons, all the idiological differences, all the mature discussion and all- Sam is the baby brother of Dean; at the end he needs Dean to be there as a big bro, to tell him to let it go, to clutch him in his chest. Ultimately they will always choose each other and nothing else will come between them.

8. Dean's death in 9x23:

One of the saddest death of Dean, and perhaps it comes to this list because of the build-up and drama follows this. Both had their own reasons for the tension they had this whole season, but when the tragedy comes it hits so hard that all those logics fell apart. It scares to peep in Sam's headspace at this time of dean's dying- imagine you discarding the person you love the most as you are reasonably angry with him, and in a few days he is dying in your arms when you have hardly talked out your differences.

7. Why don’t you believe in us too (14x12) :

Probably should come much later in this list, but this scene stood out in my eyes because it was such a fresh air in the terrible plotless mimicry that SPN had become in later seasons. The scene after ages which sums up Sam and Dean, the codependent brothers whom we had forgotten. Such a long time after we see Sam the little brother, witness the emotional turmoil he was going through silently and how it exploded. The only scene which makes season 14 worth remembering. Also Jared just nailed this scene!

6.) Dead or Alive (3x16):

This scene breaks my heart in pieces. Dean bravely going for the last fight before the horrible death he will be facing. And he trying to cheer up baby bro, he wants the last memory with his brother to be in this car- singing along together... How his face slowly glooms at the end and his eyes full of fear... Early seasons really were gems!

5. Sam in Mystery spot (3x11) :

Undoubtedly one of the best SPN episode with perfect blend of mystery, fun, laughter, tragedy and emotion... The funny vibe of the episode ends in a moment when we see Sam is not waking up from the nightmare loop. Then we see a robot- a scary robot who only wants to get his brother back at any cost. This episode is yet another example of how Sam loves Dean just as fiercely as Dean does, and he is not any less codependent.

4. Barn scene and alone Sam (15x20) :

God! What can I say about this!

Just want to add, Sam wandering alone in the bunker after creamating Dean hurts me equally.

3. John's death (2x01):

Cannot forget this one. This episode happens to be another favourite of mine, and the way John sacrifices himself for his son proves that a father can go to any extent for his children. The farewell scene of John - where he asks for forgiveness and goodbye to dean without him understanding brings tears to my eyes. Such a beautiful acting by JDM and so realistic portrayal of a flawed, helpless and loving father.

2. End of Season 5 (5x22)

The ground was set, the battle was about to begin, the ultimate faceoff between Lucifer and Michael was going to start- then what happens? A stubborn idiot boy with a muscle car and hellbent attitude comes in between- knowing that he cannot survive this- just because one of these celestial entities have captured his brother as a vessel and he won’t leave his brother alone. Till his last drop of blood he keeps on trying- trying to reach his brother who is trapped under something much bigger- keeps on telling that It's okay, he is not alone, his big brother is here. And guess what, he succeed. His brother broke free the bind of one of the strongest entity of universe and fought. The climax scene gives me goosebump always followed by a bunch of grief and saddness the ending carries. Had season 5 been the last season of SPN, and this be the exact way the series ended, I would absolutely have no regret!

1. Sammy's first Death (2x21):

No matter how many sad scenes are perfectly executed in SPN, nothing can exceed the emotion of this one. Jensen will also not be able to exceed the level of performance be set in this particular scene. Period.

So this is it... I must have excluded many. And turns out my list is full of Sam and Dean only and I am also not unbiased 🤣🤣 Well, there are sad scenes that do not involve only the brothers and I still like them, but not my top 10. Maybe have to make list of top 11 to 20 in order to include them. 😁

Please share your favourite saddest top 10 as well.

#supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #sam and dean #john winchester #spn #jensen ackles #j2 #anti destiel #top 10 list #jared padalecki #best episode

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pedroshotwifey · 1 year ago

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Manners

Pairing: Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x fem!reader

Word Count: 8.4k

Tags/Warnings: No use of Y/N, Age gap, Slight authority/seniority kink (He's her boss), Slight Sir kink, Oral sex (f and m receiving), piv sex, probably more I'm forgetting about but oh well 🤷‍♀️

Summary: You make a small slip-up and Jack offers to help brush you up on your manners.

A/N: Hello lovely readers! Please keep in mind that even though I have written multiple works at this point, this one is the first one I ever published. As I begin to post some of my more recent fics, you should be able to see a difference in quality overall. I did, however, go back and make edits to this one so that it is better than it would have been if I had posted it in its original state. I hope you enjoy it, and please keep an eye out for the more recent fics I will be posting within the next week or so!

***

The sun is bright in your eyes as you attempt to blink them open for the first time this morning. You can feel the warm rays sneaking through the curtains to crawl over your blanketed form. The birds are singing a sweet song right outside your window, their song slowly stirring you awake. You sigh in contentment at the peaceful scene you woke up to.

It’s definitely one of those mornings where it will be impossible to drag yourself away from your cozy bed. Once you are able to pry your eyes open all the way, you sit up and pull the curtain back a little to admire the landscape of the small ranch you work on.

Being able to wake up and come home to the beautiful view presented by the window beside your bed has quickly become one of your favorite things about this job. Part of your payment is living in the small one-bedroom house stationed on top of one of the few hills on the ranch.

It's not much, but you love the cozy feeling the house gives off. It's absolutely perfect for you and you have made sure to let your boss know how appreciative you are of it. Within the six months that you have lived on the property, you have only talked to the boss a handful of times, and each time he asks you if you are still comfortable living in the cottage.

Even though he told you that you can make any adjustments you want, he still likes to check that it is to your standard. You always tell him that you are perfectly content, and he always makes a point to remind you that you are welcome to move into one of the many rooms of his large ranch house if you ever change your mind.

You have learned that Mr. Daniels is very generous. He seems to genuinely care about the well-being of his employees. Despite his array of offers though, you always choose to stay in the small cottage. You know that he worries about you being secluded, but in reality, you are still in view of the main house. You trust that if anything were to happen, he or another ranch hand would be there in an instant to assist you.

It's true what you tell him; you are perfectly content with the small house, but you have to be honest with yourself. You know that you are turning him down for other reasons as well — annoying reasons that you wish would cease to exist.

About two months in, you made the realization that you are nursing a crush on your boss. By that time though, you had already settled in. You had figured—hoped—the attraction would be a phase. By now, you’ve realized it most certainly was not. In your defense, a few weeks after the realization, it seemed like the crush had passed, faded into nothing more than a tiny tug in your chest when you thought about him. That is until you had to meet up with him for a monthly check-in at least.

You had scolded yourself and tried to ignore the bubbling feeling in your stomach as he talked to you in that syrupy southern drawl you have come to crave. You had a sinking suspicion that you didn't do a very good job of concealing the way you felt. The way the cowboy had smirked at you every now and again during the, in your opinion, much-too-long interaction suggested that he knew exactly what kind of thoughts you had brewing.

If you didn’t know any better, you would dare say that the asshole might enjoy making your face flush bright as a tomato. Sure, the man may be about twenty years your senior, but you can't deny the tension that has begun to build since then.

He seems to have made a game of getting you flustered during meetings, and you have quickly accepted the challenge of keeping your cool as he does so. Unfortunately for you, he usually wins.

You groan as you remember that you need to prepare yourself for the meeting taking place today. You sit up and let your feet dangle off the side of the bed as you stretch your arms into the air, attempting to ease your sore muscles.

Letting your hands back down to rest on your lap, you glance at the clock. It reads 10:41.

Shit

Suddenly awake, you jump out of bed and scramble over to your closet, frantically laying out a work outfit. You are supposed to be meeting Mr. Daniels at 11:00. You had set an alarm to wake you up at 9:30 so you would have time to eat breakfast and tidy up around the cottage before you had to leave. Of course, today would be the day the clock wouldn’t go off.

It takes about five minutes to get to the main house from here, maybe two that if you run, but even then it would still be cutting it close. If there is anything you hate, it's making a bad impression, and being late is one of the best ways to do that.

You know that Mr. Daniels probably won't mind, but you still don't want to be an inconvenience. You are the only female worker on the ranch, and even though Jack always lets you know how much he appreciates your hard work, you still want to stay on top of your responsibilities. You know deep down that you have nothing to prove, but some of the guys can be pretty rude with their unnecessarily sexist comments.

They just love to follow you around and breathe down your fucking neck. Their favorite antic has got to be making you feel like you aren’t capable of picking up bigger loads. “Can I get that for you, Princess?” they ask with stupid smirks, already knowing your answer. You have learned that the best way to deal with that is to give them a smile and kindly assure them that you got it. It’s no fun for them when you don’t feed into it, after all.

Even so, Mr. Daniels is usually pretty quick about shutting “jokes'' about you down, but you can't help but feel like he might see some truth to them. He doesn’t of course - in fact, he constantly tells you that you are one of the best hands he has ever had working for him.

You always soak up any praise he gives you, even though you feel like a giddy schoolgirl sometimes. You swear that man’s comments will ultimately be the death of you.

You check the clock again as you finish tying your hair back and set your hat on your head.

10:54. Perfect.

After you brush your teeth, that should give you enough time to walk down to the house just in time for the meeting to start.

***

Somehow, it ended up being 10:57 by the time you were walking out the door. As you step outside, you can see Mr. Daniels standing outside his house, glancing at his wrist. You furrow your brows as you realize that the rest of the ranch hands are nowhere to be seen. There's no way the meeting is just between the two of you, right? You couldn’t have missed a detail that detrimental… right?

Shaking your head, you start to sprint toward where your boss is standing. The guys will probably be there by the time you reach the house… hopefully. You’re not sure if you can handle Jack Daniels on your own today. It takes you about two and a half minutes for you to get to him, and—much to your chagrin—there’s not another worker in sight.

You inhale deeply as you approach him - you can already feel the butterflies in your stomach with every step you take. He looks exceptionally good today, donned in his signature black stetson. Once you are close, you plaster a smile on your face and pray silently that you made it on time.

“Hello Mr. Daniels,” you say sweetly.

“Good morning sugar,” he says before flashing you a toothy grin. You try to ignore the names he has for you most of the time, though you secretly love the almost nonchalant affection behind them.

You feel your face flush and try to turn your head towards the ground in an attempt to hide it, but you know he saw when you notice his eyes narrow slightly out of the corner of your own. The look sends heat straight into your lower abdomen and you swallow as you look up to meet his gaze again.

“Did nobody else show up?” you ask him, trying to keep your composure.

He chuckles quietly at your question and you suddenly wish your ears would stop working. “No darlin’, I figured we could have a one-on-one meeting this time around—if that's ok with you of course?”

“Oh, um, yea of course, that's just fine Mr. Daniels.” Liar, your brain spits at you.

***

Fortunately for your dignity, the meeting was pretty normal for the most part. Mr. Daniels asked you if you were still comfortable in your cottage, to which you—as always—replied that you love having your own place.

He told you of the tasks he wants you to perform throughout the next couple of weeks and of your expected schedule. He also pointedly reminded you to call him Jack, which you ignored and continued to refer to him in a formal fashion. You didn't need any more personal ties to this man.

After everything that needed to be said was conversed, you both said goodbye and began to part ways.

You let out a deep breath, silently congratulating yourself for not slipping up as you turn your back to your boss. Maybe everything will be fine.

“Oh, and honeybee?” You hear Mr. Daniels' question come from behind you and tense back up immediately. There was something about the way he said it, almost like it was coming through a smirk, that made your eyes grow wide.

You spin back around to find the cowboy standing in place with his back to you.

“Yes, Mr. Daniels?” Your voice comes out squeakier than you expect and you grimace at the sound.

“You were a minute late today, hon.”

Shit. You let your eyes flutter shut and attempt to gulp down your anxiety as he continues. Of course the bastard would point something like that out, he’s well aware of how big you are on that kind of thing.

“Now don’t worry, you ain’t in trouble, darlin’,” he says much too confidently for your liking, “but just so we can assure it won’t happen again, maybe you should swing by the house tonight so we can brush you up on your manners.”

Unable to speak, you stare at your boss’s now descending form with an open jaw. Did you hear that right?

The asshole must know that you are still rooted to the spot he left you in because he cranes his neck to say “You’re free to go for now doll, i’ll see ya at 8:00,” he says before sending you a wink and turning back around.

You quickly close your jaw and turn on your heel towards the barn. Your heart is racing much too quickly in your chest as you approach your first task of the day.

***

Getting through the day was absolutely agonizing. You love your job and find most of the tasks you have to do decently easy, but the conversation from this morning has been running through your mind non-stop.

Brush up on your manners...

You wanted to hate him for his blunt suggestion, but you realized about halfway through the day what he actually meant by it. At least, what you hope he actually meant by it. You have been pushing your excitement down all day and it has evidently been landing between your legs.

At this point, as you trek back to your house to freshen up, you can feel your core throb with every agonizing step. This man has had you on edge all day and you are frustrated to no end.

Brush up on your manners...

You'll show him. You'll show him just how sweet you can be… Or maybe you won't…

The thought of being defiant sends a wave of excitement over your entire body. What would he do then? Would he decide to punish you for your bad behavior?

You'll have to decide how you will act on the way to his house. You put on a wicked grin as you begin to rustle through your closet for some presentable clothes. What Jack didn’t realize is that he accidentally put the ball right into your court.

You almost can't believe this is actually happening. As you sit down to put some mascara and lipstick on, you pinch yourself to make sure this isn't all a dream.

As you slip on your flowy sundress and boots, you are sure you will open your eyes any minute now. As you lock the door to your cottage, you expect to be waking up in your bed.

***

It really sinks in that what you are doing is real as you raise your fist to knock gently on your boss’s front door. Your nerves feel like they are on fire and you almost decide to turn around and forget all about it. Before you have the chance to change your mind, however, the door in front of you is being swung open to reveal the devilishly sexy grin hidden behind it.

“Hello again, sugar,” he says after you stand there for a second, “I was hoping you would take me up on my offer.”

You try to speak but find your voice caught in your throat, so you just nod and try to send him what you hope is a feasible smile. Without another word, he smiles back and moves to the side to gesture you into the house.

Once inside, you decide to test your voice again. “Thank you for inviting me, Mr. Daniels,” you say as he shuts the door behind you, formal as ever.

“Well of course honey,” he says in a tone much too cocky for your liking, “and look at you, already puttin’ those manners to use.”

You flush a dark shade of crimson when you find yourself at a lack of words once again. Fortunately, Jack takes that as his cue again and moves in closer, backing you into the wall behind you. You don't stop him as he steps into your personal bubble and reaches a hand toward your face.

He smirks as he feels you shudder when his large hand finds your cheek. You bite your lip to stop the sound that threatens to escape. His palm feels so warm against you, and you feel so tiny in comparison as you look up into his dark eyes.

You see the mischievous twinkle in his eye as he grasps your chin more firmly to bring your face up to his just slightly. You sneak a quick glance at his plush lips that are now mere inches from your own. It would be so easy to just lean in a bit and-

“Now, sugar,” Mr. Daniels says, interrupting your thoughts, “for the purposes of tonight, you can call me sir. Understand?”

Your eyes widen slightly at his command and you try to nod your head as much as you can with his hand still gripping your chin. Yup, you were definitely right in your earlier assumption. Your knees feel weak, threatening to give out. The sensation distracts you for a moment and when you come back into focus you find Jack looking at you expectantly.

“Let's try that again, doll,” he says as he digs his fingers into your chin ever so slightly. You swallow as you watch him tilt his chin up to look down at you. His mouth drops open into a thin smirk as he raises his eyebrows. You feel your legs buckle underneath you again and you would probably fall if not for his hand propping you up.

“Understand?” he repeats, clearly wanting a verbal response. Likely wanting your consent so he can be sure you’re of with the way things are going. You would be damned if you weren’t.

“I-” you stop when he gives your chin a warning squeeze, it isn’t hard, but it’s enough to give you the hint

“Yes sir,” you manage to get the words out. They were high-pitched and shaky, but you were surprised you were able to speak at all.

Your eyes close slowly as he lowers his head back down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead, rewarding you for catching on.

“Good girl,” you shudder and bite back a moan at his gentle praise.

Your eyes land on his lips as you open them again. You stare for a little longer than you probably should before you meet his gaze again. You can't help it, they just look so warm and inviting. You picture them enveloping your own.

When he sees you look away from his lips, he loosens his grip once more and leans in close enough to nudge his face next to yours, almost as if he were going to nibble your ear.

“Would if be okay if I kissed you, baby?” he asks, voice barely a whisper. A shiver racks through your spine at his words combined with the feeling of his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

You start to nod before you remember what he wants you to do. You want to scold yourself for giving in so easily, but you block that thought out as you feel him start to pull back. Your heart feels like it's going to beat out of your chest as you stare into his deep chocolate eyes. You hate him for making you say it, but you do it anyway.

“Yes sir,” your voice is just as quiet as his, if not more.

He closes the distance before you even realize you spoke the desperate words out loud. You close your eyes and slot your lips against his. It feels like absolute euphoria as you melt into the heated kiss. It's sloppy and uncoordinated, but automatically you decide it is the best kiss you’ve ever had.

You moan as his tongue slips past your lips, giving you a taste of what you can only describe as Jack. His lips are the perfect combination of soft and chapped and you can't help but give in completely to him. If given the option, you would stand here and kiss this man until the day you die.

You sigh as you feel his hand release your jaw and make its way down your body to rest on your hip. Shortly after, you feel his fingers run through your hair to grasp the base of your skull, pulling you deeper into the passionate kiss. Your own hands begin to cling onto his clothes, wanting to be as close as possible to him.

Suddenly, he pulls away, his palms stationed firmly on your hips and on teh back of your neck. You look into his eyes and you can see the hunger lingering in his stare. His pupils are blown with desire and you can feel the way they must mirror your own.

“Let me taste you?” He asks you, desperation clear in his voice as he nearly begs.

You nod feverishly in your lust-drunken state, not entirely sure what he just asked. All you know is that with the admiration this man is looking at you with, you would be a fool to deny him anything he asked for.

You can see the way he shifts, clearly wanting to get to whatever you had just consented to. He stops though, smirking as he seemingly remembers something.

“Try again sugar,” he tells you. You immediately know what he wants.

“Y-yes sir,” you say quickly, not sure how the words came out that fast. As soon as you say it, Jack begins to move again. You sober quickly as you watch the fierce man in front of you sink to his knees, letting his large hands run down your sides as he does so. Once settled, he looks up into your wide eyes and wets his lips. His eyes look heavenly as he beams at you with adoration.

You snap back to reality and feel the blood rush up to your cheeks as you finally realize what he had asked you. Still drunk on his kiss, you had answered him before you gave yourself a chance to think about it.

“Want to see if you taste as sweet as I've imagined, darlin’.”

Before you get the chance to respond, he leans forward to press a kiss over your clothed mound. He darts his tongue out to flick your clit, somehow knowing exactly where it is.

You involuntarily buck your hips to his face as your hands fly to rest on his broad shoulders. It's a new sensation—a welcome one for sure—but new nonetheless. You aren’t inexperienced, but you haven’t had many lovers, and none of them had ever been generous enough to go down on you.

“Oh f-fuck!” The expletive flies from your mouth as he repeats the action. He pulls back and you watch him grin against your thigh before pressing a sof kiss to the fabric covering it.

You feel your dress being bunched up in one of his fists, but he doesn't raise it yet. Figuring he probably wants your permission, you look down at him and give him a shaky nod.

When he sees the confirmation, he sends you another smirk that shoots straight down to your cunt. You bite your lip as you feel your dress rise up past your panties.

It's been a while since you had any sexual encounter, and you feel exposed until you see the pure lust in Jack's eyes; how could you ever feel uncomfortable under a gaze like that?

“Fuck darlin,” he says, eyeing your lacy black panties. “You put these on just for me?”

“Y-yes sir,” you say. He seems satisfied with your response as he extends the hand that's not holding your dress up to run a finger through the wet patch between your legs.

“Oh sugar, you been thinkin’ ‘bout me?” He asks you when he feels the wetness beginning to pool through the lace fabric.

“Yes sir,” you tell him truthfully. “All day.” You figure you have no shame left, might as well just tell it as it is. Though you are trying to sound confident, your voice sounds soft even in your ears.

You can tell by the way Jack's eyes glow when you admit your thoughts that he finds your nervousness arousing.

“Alright sugar, I'll tell you what,” he says as his thumb absently traces circles on your thigh. “I think you have been such a good girl for me so far…” To your embarrassment, you whimper at his praise.

“I want you to use my real name when I have you screaming for me.”

When you don't say anything, he looks up to meet your flushed face. Your mouth is dropped open slightly at his casual suggestion and your face feels like it's on fire.

He gives you no more warning as he smirks and hooks your panties to the side before shoving a finger into your dripping hole in one swift motion. You squeeze your eyes shut and relish in the feeling of having something filling you up. You immediately want more, and you tell him as much.

He chuckles darkly at your desperation as he begins to pump his finger in and out at a painfully slow pace.

“Remember your manners, doll,” he reminds you. You groan in frustration but comply with his request.

“Shit, please Jack, please give me more.” Your words sound rushed as they spill from your kiss-swollen lips. yup, all dignity out the window.

He approves your request by dipping another finger into your wet heat, but he does nothing about the speed in which he moves his hand. Despite the pace, you can feel the tension in your abdomen begin to build up embarrassingly quickly as he rubs against that spongy place you can never reach.

One of your hands leaves his shoulder to tangle in his hair. You whimper at the friction you have been craving all day and try to grind down on his digits in an attempt to reach that sweet spot deep inside you again.

You want to scream when he quickly extracts his fingers.

“Now darlin’, you gotta be patient if you want me to reward you.” He sends you a flashy smirk as he teases your entrance with the pad of his middle finger, applying just enough pressure to make it seem like he’s going to breach you again, but he never does. You shiver at the feeling. Bastard.

“Yes sir, I'll be good,” you promise him eagerly.

“Know you will be, such a good fuckin’ girl,” he mutters mostly to himself as his fingers split you open once again. He sets a faster pace this time, and you can feel the coil in your belly getting ready to snap. You feel his mouth envelope your throbbing clit through your panties and you let out a whiny moan.

“I- fuck Jack, im close,” you breathe out in pure ecstasy. At your unworded request, he adds a third digit and begins to pump his fingers at a near-brutal pace. You can feel a sheen of sweat beginning to cover your body. Just a few strokes away now…

He takes his mouth away but continues his attack with his fingers. He tilts his head up to watch your teary-eyed expression, your mouth slightly agape. He chuckles quietly at how fast he was able to find the spots that make you squirm for him.

“Now doll, here's where we work on that timing,” he starts. You barely register what he says through your haze, but you get the gist of it and furrow your brows. When he sees your confusion, he fills you in.

“You want to come, honey?” he asks you nonchalantly.

“Oh, yes sir,” you squeak as you feel a tear run down your cheek; you’re so close, you don’t want him to deny you again. “Yes, yes, please let me come.” your eyes flutter closed from the pure pleasure he is bringing you with just his hand.

“Okay, sweetheart, that's what I thought.” you’re not sure if you like the playfulness in his tone.

“I'm going to do a countdown for you,” he starts. “When I reach ‘one’, you can come.” Your eyes fly open faster than they had closed.

“Jack,” you try not to sound whiny as you protest. “Jack, I-I don't know if I can—I don't know if I can do that!” The grin that spreads onto his face is absolutely wicked—he has you right where he wants you.

“Well hon, you're just gonna have to, ain’t ya?” he tells you. “I'll have no choice but to punish you if you come too soon or too late.” Your eyes grow wide but you can't deny the curiosity that breaches your mind at what his idea of “punishment” might be.

“I believe you can do it darlin’,” he encourages you before you have the chance to protest. You know he would stop if you asked him, but that would be the only way out—and he would be stopping completely. You are so close, like Jack said—you can do this.

You swallow and nod down at him, signaling your agreement. By now, he has slowed down his pace drastically, and you would do anything to have his fingers abusing your cunt again.

“Okay, let's start then,” he says through his toothy grin. “I'm gonna to go from five.” Seeing you nod again, he brings his mouth back to work at your still-covered clit.

“Five.” You keen sharply as he mouths at your clit, prodding the bundle of nerves with his skilled tongue.

“Four.” you aren't sure if you are going to have enough control to make it to one. It feels almost painful knowing that you have to wait for permission.

“Three.” “There you go hon, so close now.”

“Two.” your breathing picks up and you can't help but let the high pitched moans barrel out as you focus on holding your release. You want to beg for his permission, but you know your best bet is to wait it out.

“One.”

Jack sucks hard on your clit as you scream his name. Your vision goes white and you suddenly feel like you’re floating. The intense orgasm seems to last forever, you’ve never felt anything so blissful in your life.

“There you go sugar,” you hear Jack's giddy voice coming from a faraway place. “Scream my name as loud as you need to.”

Other than the shudders that wrack your body, you are barely aware of anything else around you. It feels like you are suspended in another dimension. You can feel your juices running down your thighs and hear Jack happily slurping them up, muttering gentle praise into your sex.

“Did so good for me honey bee,” he tells you, “Right on time’.”

It seems like an hour has passed by the time you are finally able to open your eyes and look down at the man on his knees before you. It takes you a second to notice, but once your vision comes back all the way, you can see droplets of wetness make their way down Jack's face to drip off of his nose and chin.

Holy Shit…

Your eyes widen in time with your jaw as you begin to piece together what happened. You keep your gaze on Jack while you figure it out. He looks almost as blissed out as you do with his hooded eyes and his mustache covered in your slick.

“Oh my god Jack,” you say, feeling your face turn red. “I didn't…”

The smirk on his face widens and he opens his mouth to shove his fingers inside. He closes his mouth as he suckles on them and then pulls the digits out with a wet pop.

“Oh yes you did honey,” he says after he opens his eyes to meet yours. “And you taste just as divine as you looked while you squirted all over my hand.”

“Now let Jack finish cleanin’ you up sugar.” With that, he dips his head back down to lap at your sensitive folds. You buck your hips when you feel him graze your over-sensitive clit,

“Let's get these the rest of the way off, sweet thing,” he chuckles darkly as he slides his finger back and forth across the band of your ruined panties.

Not knowing what to say, you nod and step back for him. You start to bend down to take your shoes off before you slide your panties down, but you’re stopped as you feel him lightly tap the outside of your thigh.

Meeting your curious expression, he shakes his head slightly and shifts to one knee before tapping the one he had popped up, gesturing for you to place your foot there.

You want to swoon over him for how much of a gentleman he can be even though he was just knuckle-deep in your cunt. You shoot him a bashful smile as you comply with his silent request and gently place your foot on his raised leg.

He returns the smile before sliding your shoe off and caresses your calf while he sets it off to the side. He motions for you to switch legs and you watch as he repeats the motion with that one as well.

Once you have both feet planted back on the ground, Jack reaches up to hook his fingers into the sides of your waistband. He slowly slides the now soaked garment down your bare legs, being careful not to leave any residue on your skin.

Once they are discarded next to your shoes, he stands back up to his full height. He gently slides both of his hands onto your face and brings you in to lock you in a bruising kiss.

“What do you say, doll?” He asks you once he pulls back. You smile at him, proud of yourself for knowing exactly what he wants.

“Thank you, sir,” you tell him bashfully. He beams at your quick learning and moves one of his hands to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “My pleasure, honey.”

It's your turn to smirk up at him as you begin to descend onto your knees. He looks down at you with a look somewhere between amusement and confusion as you settle into a comfortable position.

“Aw sugar,” he tells you, running his fingers through your hair. “You don't have to do that.”

You put up at him in a mocking manner and stop your hands halfway to his belt buckle. “Please sir, I want to,” you tell him. You watch as his brows narrow slightly and his eyes grow darker.

“What exactly do you want, honey bee?” he asks you, though the bastard knows exactly what you mean. You decide to play along with his game anyway.

“I want to make you feel good, sir,” you say, looking up at him through your thick eyelashes. “Will you let me?”

He continues smoothing your hair down as he slowly nods at you, giving you permission. You hear his breath catch in his throat as your hands find his buckle.

You bite your lip as you anxiously fumble with the heavy thing. Once unclasped, you unzip his pants and tug them down just enough to see the large bulge in his boxers. He smirks as he notices your eyes widen at the size of it.

“You can do it, honey,” he rests his free hand back on your cheek as he assures you. You lean into his touch and gently take his thumb into your mouth, suckling lightly. His skin tastes heavenly and you hum in anticipation of how good his cock must be.

Maintaining eye contact, you reach out and give him a small squeeze through his boxers. He groans at the touch and you smirk as you reach into his waistband and tug his hardened dick out.

You give him a couple of jerks and watch the way his face twists with pleasure before you look down. He chuckles when he hears you gasp as your gaze trails downwards.

Holy shit.

He's fucking huge. Sure he's got length, but his girth is what has your eyes growing wide. You swallow as you look back into his eyes.

“Like what you see?” He asks, amusement clear in his voice. You roll your eyes as you give him another short tug. You let your thumb run over his tip, spreading precum over the head.

You smirk as he shudders above you. You lean forward to dart your tongue out over his slit, tasting the saltiness of it. He lets out a strained groan at the contact. “Like what you feel?” You ask him innocently. You look up to meet his now blazing stare.

“Now doll,” he pauses as he rubs your cheek. “That's one dangerous game you just started,” he says slowly. You swallow at his menacing tone.

“And I hope you are prepared to play it.”

With that, he grasps your chin, making your mouth fall open as he brings your face toward his heavy cock. He watches your expression to make sure you don't want to stop before he guides his stiff length into your mouth.

He wastes no time as he shoves himself all the way down your throat, not giving you the chance to take him slowly. Your nose nuzzles into the dark curls at the base of his cock as you try not to choke.

He doesn't move yet, allowing you to get used to the feeling. You try not to gag as you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. You close them, letting the liquid stream down your cheeks as you swallow, trying to adjust yourself.

“Ah fu-“ Jack stutters as he feels your throat convulse around his length. “There you go s-sugar, just like that.”

You bathe in the way the blissed-out way Jack's eyelids start to droop and his mouth falls open the tiniest bit as you start to move your head back and forth. A strangled groan spills from his lips when you move back and circle your tongue around his tip before sliding back down to the base.

You feel him set his hand on your head, not pushing or pulling you in any way, just resting it there. There's a glint in your eyes as you look up at him and put your hand on top of his, pushing lightly.

Jack's eyes widen as he realizes what you are insinuating, but you can see the desire behind his expression.

“Shit- I-“ he fumbles over his words, "you sure sweetheart? I ain’t gonna be gentle.” You nod up at him as much as you can and push his hand in encouragement again.

“Alright darlin’,” he stares down at you with adoration, “tap my thigh if you need me to slow down.”

You can tell he has been trying to hold himself back, and you feel your wetness start to drip down your thighs as his face relaxes. He takes over your movements as he presses on the back of your head experimentally.

You give him complete control and submit to his request, putting your tongue out flat as he pushes you down his thick length. You moan out in pleasure at the thought of him having complete control and his cock twitches at the sound.

His actions start slow, but gradually build up as he begins to chase his high. He whispers praise to you in between moans as he fucks your mouth.

As you watch him, you think that the expression he makes when he is consumed with pleasure might be the best thing you have ever seen—better than the view from your cottage window. You hum around him, sending vibrations through his whole body.

“Oh, fuck!” You can feel yourself growing wetter the more Jack struggles to keep his composure. “S-Shit sugar, I'm gonna need t’ stop if you want me to be able to take care of you right.”

You whimper at the thought of his cock slamming in and out of your pussy and you feel more slick dripping down your legs. You squeeze your thighs shut, trying to get some friction to relieve the ache on your throbbing clit.

Knowing he's close, Jack pulls you off of him with a growl. He grins as he hears you whine at the loss.

“Now darlin’,” he starts. “There will be plenty of chances to do that again, for now though,” you watch as his eyes somehow grow darker still. “I want to feel that tight cunt around my cock.”

You can't stop the moan that escapes from your lips upon hearing his dirty words. You must be dripping onto the floor at this point, but you don't care. All you care about right now is Jack staying true to his word.

Hearing your desperate moan ignites something feral in him, and before you even realize what he was doing, you are slung over his shoulder, ass in the air, as he strides into his bedroom.

He flings you on the bed as soon as he enters the threshold and immediately goes to work pulling off his boots. You sit there stunned as he starts fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, exposing more of his perfectly tanned skin.

He glances up at you through his haze to see your shocked expression, and you watch as a lopsided smirk overtakes his features.

“You gonna strip or what, honey?” He asks you in a teasing tone as he continues undressing.

You roll your eyes and grin as you feel your blood rushing to your cheeks. As he looks back down to concentrate on the last few buttons on his shirt and you take that as a cue to tug your dress off.

Left in only your bra, you take that off too as Jack is tugging off his pants. Donned in only his boxers, he looks back at you and you watch his eyes rake over your naked form.

His smile falters and you think for a second that you did something wrong.

“You are so damn beautiful darlin’,” he says, easing your worried thoughts. You smile

sheepishly as he starts to walk towards the bed.

He leans over the side, wedging one of his knees between your own as he leaves a trail of delicate kisses up the column of your throat. You tilt your head up to allow his access and shiver as he brushes along your pulse point.

“Jack,” you say in a whiny tone, not really sure what you're asking him for. He seems to know better than you do though, because he lifts his lips up to yours as he slides a hand down between your bodies.

You moan into his mouth as he uses two fingers to lightly circle your clit. The kiss turns sloppy and you bring your arms up to circle around his neck, pulling him in closer.

He moves the fingers from your clit to tease at your sopping cunt. He slides them in one at a time and you keen underneath him, making his cock twitch in his boxers. His erection is almost painful now, but he wants to get you ready for him before he gives in to his urges.

You feel yourself climbing closer to the edge as Jack adds a third finger and begins to work at your swollen bud with his thumb. He can feel you writhing below him and he smiles into your mouth, proud of the way your body reacts to his touch.

“Jack, im gonna-“ You don’t get to finish the warning as you feel him flick his thumb over your clit, pushing you over the edge. Your whole body shakes with pleasure as you mewl into Jack's lips.

Your eyes roll back and you feel yourself clench around Jack's fingers, causing a guttural groan to escape from him. He pumps his fingers in and out, easing you through your high.

As you still, you lay your head down fully on the mattress and look into Jack's eyes. You feel like a schoolgirl as you smile lopsidedly at him, giving you an eager grin in return.

“You ready, darlin’?” he asks. You take a deep breath and nod at him. He leans down to plant small kisses on your forehead and on the tip of your nose as he pushes himself off of the bed to shed his boxers.

You scootch back a little, giving him more room as he climbs back up. Your stomach flips as you look into his eyes, feeling one of his hands come up to rest next to your head.

He dips down for another kiss and you feel the head of his cock find its way to your entrance. You suck in a breath as he begins to slowly push himself into your dripping heat.

“Oh- fuck baby girl,” he groans as he pushes deeper. You feel the hand near your head clench the sheets beside you as he sheaths himself to the hilt. His size takes your breath away and you are grateful when he pauses to let you adjust.

The stretch pinches, making you scrunch your eyes shut. When you open them again, you find Jack looking at you, concern written on his face.

He furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head, silently asking if you are okay to continue. You know that he would stop in a heartbeat if you wanted to, and the thought immediately makes you more comfortable.

It warms your heart to think about how much of a gentleman Jack really is underneath that tough exterior, and how lucky you are to be able to experience this side of him.

“Start moving,” you tell him after the pain begins to dull. You watch his features relax as he pulls back out halfway before gliding back in. You appreciate how gentle he's being, at least until you can get used to the feeling of being stuffed so full.

“Your wish is my command, sweet pea,” he tells you, sending you a wink. The pain from earlier quickly turns to pleasure as Jack continues his gentle movements. You moan loudly as he hits something devastating inside you, spurring him on.

“Ah- fuck, Jack!” You scream his name as he begins to speed his movements up. You can feel every vein and ridge sliding on the walls of your soaked cunt. Already, tension begins building in your belly as he starts to ruthlessly pump his cock in and out of you.

The room is filled with both of your moans combined with the lewd squelching noises coming from where your bodies connect. It sounds like pure ecstasy. You can hear Jack's breath growing heavier with each thrust.

You decide as he lets out a whine that there is nothing sweeter than the sounds Jack Daniels makes when he's buried deep inside of you. His noises fuel you and you can hear your moans growing breathier as he pulls you closer to the edge.

You watch a bead of sweat slip down the side of Jack's forehead as he draws back until only the head of his cock is breaking you open. Before you get the chance to figure out what he's doing, he slams himself back into you.

You try to scream but find that all the breath had been knocked out of you with the force of his thrust. Tears of pleasure brim your eyes as he repeats his action, faster this time.

Your arms slip under his own and you claw at his back as you get closer to release. You let out a moan as Jack grabs your thigh and throws one of your legs over his waist, allowing him to hit depths you didn't even think possible.

“Such a -fuck- such a sweet damn pussy d-darlin’,” Jack praises. You almost come right then and there.

“S-so good, Jack,” you say through a whimper as he continues his brutal pace. “Fuck!” You scream when he slams into a sweet spot.

“M’ gon- gonna come, Jack,'' you tell him. He smirks and snakes a hand between your bodies to rub at your clit. There's no way you're going to last between the new position and the assult on your sensitive bud.

“Go ahead darlin’,” He tells you as he lowers his head to slot his lips between your own, locking you into a messy kiss. “Let go for me.”

That's all it takes for you to fall apart underneath him. Your eyes roll back and you feel your legs turn to jello as you come on Jack's cock. He continues to whisper sweet praise into your ear as he works you through your climax.

You feel his movements grow sloppy and uncoordinated as you come down from your high.

“S-Shit, honey,” Jack gasps, “not gonna last.”

He gives about another half dozen thrusts before he's asking you “Where?”.

You don't answer him, and instead lift your other leg to wrap around his waist, bringing him into you. You whimper at the thought of filling you up and it pushes him over the edge. He stills and you feel the gush of warm seed spread throughout your cunt.

The moan he lets out is absolutely feral as he releases inside of you, making your toes curl. You squeeze around him, milking rope after rope of cum from his cock. You stare into each other’s eyes as you bring your arms up around his neck to pull him down to you again.

You bring your lips against his, closing your eyes as you both share the gentlest and most intimate kiss of the night. He lowers his body to lay on top of yours, being careful not to put all of his weight on you as he pulls away from the kiss to position his head next to your ear.

“Fuckin’ perfect darlin’,” he says gently. “Thank you.”

You smile at the ceiling as you wrap your arms tight around him, holding him close. You both lay there for a few minutes as your bodies begin to relax, you slotting your fingers through his hair, and him whispering sweet praises into your ear.

He leans up to brush his lips against yours one more time before grunting and pulling out of you. You grimace first at the loss and then at the feeling of your combined release leaking out of your worn cunt. Your attention is dragged away from the feeling when you hear Jack flick the bathroom light on.

He is only gone for a second before he returns with a warm cloth, using it to swipe along your folds, cleaning you up. You wince as the fabric runs along your sensitive clit. “Sorry, darlin’,” he chuckles a quiet apology. You squint at him but when you make eye contact you can't help but giggle too.

Smiling, Jack gets back up to dispose of the cloth before he comes back to bed and lays down beside you, pulling you into him so you can set one of your legs over his and place your head on his chest. You hum in delight as he starts to pepper feather light kisses into your hair.

“Not so bad for an old man,” you tease him. You feel him smile against your hair as he breathes in your sweet scent.

“Hey now,” he says in the same teasing tone, “it's starting to sound like you didn't learn anything from your lesson.”

You laugh as you roll yourself over to straddle his hips.

“Well,” you say as you look into his hooded eyes, “I've always said I learn my lessons better the second time around.” He smirks at you and grabs your hips, bearing you down to his already half-hard cock and you whimper quietly.

“That can be arranged, sugar,” he tells you as he scoots back against the headboard. “This time we’ll see how well you can follow instructions.”

#fan fiction #pedro pascal #ao3 #agent whiskey #smut #pedro pascal smut

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