#i wanna say they wouldn’t go there but these are the people who wrote a storyline involving a doppelgänger of shannon

[dksfml]

scripted - yjw

pairing: yang jungwon x reader x nishimura riki genre: ULTRA fluff, tiny angst, unrequited love, jealousy, love triangle (if you squint) word count: 10.3k summary: where you wrote a screenplay for your theater project about your sweet daydreams about jungwon, which got chosen for your class to present to the entire school. with him cast as the male lead while you, as the director, watch another girl play your own life story.

'Cause I, I don't wanna say what's scripted Whether you aren't with it I know what I need

The rumors about your crush on Jungwon weren’t just whispers—they were facts etched into the walls of the school. Everyone knew. Your friends, your classmates, even the juniors who only knew you by name. You had always been comfortable with it. Why wouldn’t you be? Jungwon was, by all standards, crush-worthy.

He was the type of guy people noticed instantly. Good looks, a quick wit, and a confidence that bordered on cocky but never quite crossed the line. He was friendly with everyone, not a single person immune to his easy charm. And you? You were no exception.

It was almost comical how blatant your admiration for him was. You didn’t try to hide it, laughing along with your friends when they teased you for staring at him during lunch or lingering too long by his desk. For the longest time, you were fine being the girl with the obvious crush. It was harmless fun.

But then the school retreat happened.

It had been a late-night campfire activity, the kind designed to foster trust and openness. Under the flickering firelight, with everyone’s attention pinned on you, someone dared you to confess your feelings to Jungwon.

At first, you laughed it off. “Why should I? Everyone already knows.”

But the chant started: “Do it! Do it!” Your friends joined in, and even Jungwon—sitting across from you, grinning in that infuriatingly charming way—raised an eyebrow as if daring you to go through with it.

So, you did. You stood up, brushed the dirt off your hands, and announced, “Jungwon, I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time.”

It was meant to be bold, confident, a way of taking control of the narrative that had always surrounded you. But as the laughter and applause erupted, you noticed the way Jungwon’s smile faltered. He chuckled, scratched the back of his head, and said, “Thanks, Y/N. That’s… flattering.”

Flattering. That was it. No reciprocation, no playful banter to ease the sting. Just a polite brush-off in front of everyone.

You didn’t let it show, of course. You sat back down, forced a smile, and played along with the jokes that followed. But something inside you shifted that night.

Since then, the teasing felt different—less like harmless fun and more like salt in a wound.

Weeks later, when your media studies professor announced that your play had been chosen for the class project, the room erupted into chaos.

Gasps of excitement rippled through the room, followed quickly by hushed murmurs. Your classmates exchanged knowing glances, the kind that made your stomach churn.

“Of course, her script won,�� someone whispered, loud enough for you to catch. The words were casual, almost dismissive, as if your victory was inevitable—not because of your skill, but because of the ever-present rumors surrounding you.

“She’s good at this stuff,” another voice chimed in, but it was tinged with something less kind, as though your talents were overshadowed by something else entirely.

And then it came: “I bet Jungwon’s the inspiration for her male lead.”

That one landed like a punch.

You stiffened slightly, forcing your expression to remain neutral. Showing any reaction would only fuel the fire. Instead, you stood and walked to the front of the classroom with measured steps, pretending not to notice the smirks or the pointed glances being exchanged.

“It’s a well-written piece,” your professor said warmly, handing you back your script. Her genuine praise should have felt like a balm, but the weight of your classmates’ stares made it hard to savor the moment. “You’ll be the director, too, so start preparing.”

You nodded, managing a polite smile. “Thank you, ma’am.”

As you turned to return to your seat, you could feel the whispers start up again, quieter now but no less cutting.

“Did you hear about the retreat?” one voice said. “Yeah. She confessed to him in front of everyone.” “And he didn’t say anything back.” “Awkward…”

The words followed you like a shadow as you sat down, gripping the edges of the script.

This was supposed to be a win—a moment of pride for your writing—but instead, all you could think about was how the story you’d poured your heart into was about to be dissected by the very people who had watched you get rejected.

You’d spent countless nights drafting this play, pouring your soul into the characters, crafting a story that felt raw and honest. But now, all you could hear was the echo of your own confession, the way Jungwon had smiled politely, like he didn’t want to hurt your feelings but didn’t know what else to say.

Flattering. That’s what he had called it.

The memory burned, and for a fleeting moment, you considered pulling your script from the project entirely. But no—that would only make things worse. The last thing you wanted was to give anyone more ammunition to use against you.

So instead, you forced yourself to meet the professor’s eyes again as she moved on to announce the rest of the assignments. You sat there, quiet and composed, as if the whispers didn’t bother you.

The first group meeting for the play began in a chaotic hum of chatter and excitement. Despite your nerves, you stood at the front of the room, gripping the script like it was the only solid thing in your world. As the director, you knew you had to project confidence, even as the weight of everyone’s expectations pressed down on you.

“Alright, let’s get started,” you began, forcing your voice to sound steady. “We’ll need strong actors for the leads. There’s the rich male lead and the pauper female lead, they need to have believable chemistry.”

You barely got the words out before someone shouted from the back, “Jungwon should be the male lead!”

The room exploded with agreement, your classmates’ voices blending into a whirlwind of approval.

“Yeah, he’s perfect for it!” “Jungwon’s already the campus heartthrob—he basically is the rich boy.” “And he’s a natural actor!”

The noise rang in your ears, but you managed to nod as though the suggestion didn’t bother you. Inside, your chest felt tight. This was inevitable, wasn’t it? Of course, they’d choose him.

You raised a hand to quiet the room. “Jungwon, are you okay with that?” you asked, keeping your tone carefully neutral, professional, like this was any other task.

All eyes turned to him as he leaned back in his chair, the corners of his lips tugging into that easy grin that made your stomach twist.

“Sure, why not?” he replied casually, like it was no big deal.

The ease with which he accepted stung more than it should have, and you hated yourself for letting it bother you. But that smile—the same one that had made your heart flutter countless times—felt sharper now, like a blade.

“Great,” you said briskly, moving on as though you weren’t fighting to keep your composure. “For the female lead…”

“How about Minji?” someone chimed in before you could finish.

The room buzzed again with approval. Minji, with her long, glossy hair and angelic features, was undeniably beautiful. She was talented, too—her voice could silence a room, and her presence commanded attention. And then there was the one thing that made your stomach churn: her closeness to Jungwon.

“She’d be perfect,” another classmate added enthusiastically. “She and Jungwon already have great chemistry.”

You clenched your jaw, forcing the muscles in your face to stay neutral. This was your moment to speak up, to push for a different choice, but what could you say? Everyone already assumed you’d written the male lead with Jungwon in mind. Picking anyone else now would only make it more obvious.

You turned to Minji, who was practically glowing under the attention. “Minji, are you in?” you asked, your voice sounding distant even to your own ears.

She flashed a dazzling smile, flipping her hair over her shoulder as if the decision had been made long before you even asked. “Of course!” she chirped, casting a playful glance at Jungwon.

It was a glance that made the whispers of their rumored closeness feel all too real.

“Perfect,” you said tightly, moving on to assign the rest of the roles. Your pen hovered over your notebook as your classmates debated the supporting cast, their voices buzzing around you like static.

The session ended quickly after that, with everyone chattering excitedly about their parts. You remained at the front, collecting stray papers and reminding everyone to bring their scripts for the first reading.

As the room cleared, you caught sight of Jungwon and Minji walking out together, their laughter echoing in the hallway.

You let out a slow breath, willing yourself not to dwell on it. This was your project, your story—and you’d see it through, no matter how much it stung.

The following afternoon, the cast gathered in a loose circle in the auditorium, scripts in hand, buzzing with the kind of energy that only came with new beginnings. You stood at the front, clipboard clutched tightly, feeling the weight of their eyes on you. As the director, you had to guide them through this. You had to remain composed, professional, and in control.

“Alright, let’s start from the top,” you said, your voice steady despite the anxious flutter in your chest. “We’ll read through the entire script first. Blocking and staging will come later.”

The hum of voices quieted as everyone found their places. The reading began smoothly, with the cast slipping into their roles as if they’d been made for them.

Jungwon, sitting with a relaxed posture, leaned forward slightly as he read his lines. His voice carried the same effortless charm he exuded in real life, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. Each word felt natural, as if he wasn’t acting at all.

Minji was just as polished, her voice flowing with practiced ease. She smiled at the right moments, added depth to her lines, and cast Jungwon occasional glances that made their chemistry undeniable. The rest of the cast followed suit, and as much as you hated to admit it, the characters truly were coming to life.

But when you reached page 37, something inside you twisted.

Your eyes scanned the dialogue—the words you had written from a place of quiet vulnerability. It was a simple scene, one you thought would go unnoticed by everyone except you. But now, it felt like a spotlight was shining directly on your heart.

“We’ll skip this part,” you said quickly, your voice sharp enough to cut through the room’s focus.

There was a brief pause as everyone flipped to the page in question.

“Why skip it?” Jungwon’s voice broke the silence. His tone was curious but calm, the faintest hint of confusion in his furrowed brow as he studied you.

You met his gaze briefly, forcing a shrug. “It’s unnecessary,” you replied, injecting as much nonchalance into your tone as you could. “The pacing is better without it.”

Jungwon didn’t let it go. His eyes dropped to the script, scanning the scene you were trying to erase.

It was a quiet moment between the male and the female lead, walking side by side on their way to class. She teased him about skipping gym, and he promised, half-jokingly, that he’d join her next time.

Your chest tightened. The scene wasn’t just any scene. It was yours. A memory you cherished more than you wanted to admit; walking to gym class with Jungwon, just the two of you, back when things were simpler. Back when you could still let yourself enjoy the small moments without the weight of rejection looming over you.

Jungwon’s expression shifted as he read, his casual curiosity giving way to something softer. He looked up at you, his eyes searching yours with an almost cautious understanding.

“This…” he started, his voice quieter now, as though the realization struck him mid-sentence.

You turned your face away, refusing to let him see the crack in your armor. “It’s just a filler scene,” you said briskly, cutting him off. “Let’s move on.”

Minji, oblivious to the tension, glanced around before launching into her next line, breaking the heavy silence that had settled over the group. The script reading resumed, but the energy in the room had shifted.

Jungwon’s usual ease and confidence seemed muted, his responses more measured and subdued. You could feel his eyes on you occasionally, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words.

As the session wore on, your focus remained on the script, your voice steady as you guided the cast. But deep down, you couldn’t shake the weight of his lingering gaze or the way your carefully guarded secret had come dangerously close to being exposed.

As the cast dispersed after the reading session, you stayed at the front, scanning your notes to look busy. Jungwon approached, the script dangling loosely in his hand, his expression unreadable.

“You’re good at this,” he said, his voice steady but quieter than usual.

“Thanks,” you replied without looking up, pretending to focus on the clipboard in your hands.

“You really wrote the screenplay very well,” he added after a beat, his tone careful, deliberate. “The school will really enjoy our performance, thanks to you.”

Your grip on the clipboard tightened for the briefest moment before you forced yourself to relax. You glanced up, keeping your face neutral. “Thanks, Jungwon. The story… I know that it’s a bit…”

He seemed to study you as he waits for you to finish your sentence, searching for something in your face, but you didn’t find the right word to say under his gaze. After your long pause, he nodded and turned to walk away.

But as his footsteps receded, you felt the weight of his gaze lingering, as though he wasn’t fully convinced.

The heavy sound of the auditorium doors creaking open snapped you out of your thoughts. A tall figure strolled in with an air of nonchalance—Riki, the ever-late and often-absent classmate.

“Wow, look who finally showed up,” someone from the remaining group called out, half-joking.

Riki grinned, unfazed by the attention. “What can I say? The world doesn’t stop turning without me.”

The teasing quickly shifted, and someone shouted, “All the roles are taken, dude! You’ll have to beg the director for a spot now.”

Riki’s eyes flicked to you instantly, his grin widening. He made his way over with a confidence that clashed with the fact he was perpetually absent.

You raised an eyebrow as he stopped in front of you, completely ignoring the clipboard in your hands or the seriousness in your posture.

“So, boss,” he began, crossing his arms. “What’s my role?”

“We’ve already assigned roles,” you replied flatly, not missing a beat. “You’re too late. You should’ve been here on time.”

Riki didn’t look even remotely deterred. Instead, he tilted his head, feigning a thoughtful look before shrugging. “Guess I’ll create my own role, then. Can I handle the choreography for the play?”

“What?” you asked, more baffled than angry.

“Relax,” he said with a wink. “It’s what I’m good at. You don’t want me acting anyway—I’d outshine everyone.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Riki raised a finger, cutting you off. “Trust me. I’ll do it right.”

There was something so audacious yet oddly reassuring in his tone that you found yourself momentarily speechless.

But then you snapped out of it. “Fine,” you relented. “But if you’re taking this seriously, you can’t skip practices anymore.”

Riki placed a hand on his chest in mock offense. “Do I look like the kind of guy who slacks off?”

“Yes,” you deadpanned.

He laughed, the sound echoing across the emptying auditorium. “Fair enough. See you at practice, boss.”

And just like that, he turned and strolled off, his bag slung over his shoulder as if he’d just secured the role of a lifetime.

You exhaled sharply, watching him leave. Jungwon, still standing at a distance, hadn’t said a word throughout the entire exchange. But you felt his gaze, quiet and observant, as if he were trying to piece together the dynamic between you and this latecomer who had confidently claimed a place in your play.

Shaking off the thought, you turned back to your notes, already bracing yourself for the chaos that Riki would undoubtedly bring to your carefully planned production

As the weeks of rehearsals progressed, one thing became undeniably clear—Riki was no longer the unreliable absentee everyone had pegged him to be.

“Is it just me, or has Riki been showing up every day?” one of your classmates whispered loudly during a break, eyeing him as he adjusted a prop onstage.

Another chimed in, “Yeah, and he’s actually… working. Who knew?”

You caught snippets of their conversation but chose not to engage. It was true, though. Ever since Riki had taken up the choreography, he’d been showing up not just on time but with energy and enthusiasm that sometimes even rivaled yours. His movements were precise, and he had a knack for motivating others to step up their game.

Still, you were wary. “Don’t let it get to your head,” you told him after one practice when he was lingering by the stage.

Riki only smirked, leaning against the edge of the stage. “Admit it—you’re impressed.”

You rolled your eyes, but his confidence was disarming.

One evening, during rehearsals, the cast gathered to practice a particularly intense scene between the leads. Jungwon and Minji were center stage, the script in Jungwon’s hand as he delivered his lines.

“I can’t let you leave,” he said, his tone calm but firm. His hand hovered awkwardly near Minji’s face, his fingers twitching slightly as if unsure where to place them.

“Jungwon, you’re supposed to grab her chin,” you reminded him, keeping your tone neutral as you pointed at the script. “It’s a pivotal moment of the play—it shows how desperate he is to get her to listen.”

Jungwon hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, I get that. I just… don’t want to make it awkward.”

Minji, ever professional, smiled encouragingly. “It’s fine, Jungwon. Just go for it.”

But as he nodded and turned back to her, his shoulders tensed, and his grip on the script tightened. His hand moved forward again but stopped short, hovering in mid-air as though weighed down by an invisible force.

You frowned, watching him closely. Something about his hesitation seemed deeper than stage fright. His gaze darted toward the ground, avoiding Minji’s eyes entirely. His other hand, clenched at his side, betrayed the nerves he was trying to hide.

“Jungwon,” you said, your voice softer this time. “What’s holding you back?”

He didn’t respond immediately, his jaw tightening as if he were biting back words. When he finally spoke, his voice was low. “I just… don’t want to mess it up.”

The murmurs of impatience from the cast grew louder, and before you could say more, Riki stood up from where he’d been sitting near the edge of the stage.

Suddenly, Riki, who had been sitting cross-legged near the edge of the stage, stood up. “Let me show you how it’s done,” he said, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

The group fell silent, curious to see what he would do.

You blinked, caught off guard when Riki gestured toward you. “Come here,” he said.

“What? No,” you replied, instinctively taking a step back.

“C’mon, boss,” he teased, his tone light but his gaze steady. “You’re the director. Let’s give them a proper demonstration.”

You hesitated, but the expectant stares of your classmates left you with no choice. Reluctantly, you stepped onto the stage, your palms clammy as you stood opposite him.

“Okay,” Riki said, his voice dropping an octave. He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your chin before tilting it up, so your eyes met his.

The intensity of his stare made your breath hitch. His grip wasn’t too tight, but it was firm enough to command attention. For a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of you, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

The room erupted in whistles and laughter.

“Wow, you guys look natural!” someone shouted, breaking the spell.

Another teased, “Riki, are you sure you’re not auditioning for the male lead?”

Your face burned as you quickly pulled back, avoiding everyone’s amused stares. “That’s enough,” you said, trying to sound authoritative. “Let’s get back to the scene.”

But as you walked offstage, you couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes lingering on you—or the way your heart had skipped a beat during those few seconds.

From the corner of the room, Jungwon sat silently, the script still in his hands. He hadn’t said a word during the exchange between you and Riki, but his expression was thoughtful, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched the interaction unfold.

When rehearsal resumed, he seemed quieter than usual, delivering his lines with less enthusiasm.

By now, the whispers about Riki’s sudden dedication were impossible to ignore.

“Seriously, who is this guy?” one of your classmates joked as they watched him adjust the blocking for a scene.

“He’s even showing up to classes he doesn’t need to be at,” another added.

Riki overheard and grinned as he walked past. “Guess I’m a changed man,” he quipped, winking in your direction.

You shook your head, hiding a smile. “Don’t push your luck.”

“I think I’m your star player, boss,” he shot back, his tone playful but self-assured.

Despite your best efforts to keep things professional, you couldn’t help but feel that the dynamic between you and Riki had shifted. Whether it was his newfound confidence or the easy camaraderie you had developed, he was no longer just the absentee classmate.

And though you tried to focus on the play, you couldn’t ignore the growing sense that he was slowly stealing the spotlight—both on and off the stage.

The last bell of the day had already rung, and most of your classmates were already packing up for the gymnasium, where the final recital practices were scheduled. You, however, were asked to go to your professor's office to give her an update on the progress of your play.

"How are things going?" she asked, sitting behind her desk as you entered.

You took a seat across from her, straightening the stack of papers in your hands. "Everything's on track," you said confidently. "The cast is showing great improvement, and we’re refining the blocking. The choreography is coming along well, too."

Your professor nodded, clearly pleased with your professionalism. "Good. I'm glad to hear it. Keep it up."

Then, she handed you a pile of scripts. "These are your classmates' plays. I accidentally forgot to return them, so I need you to give them back personally when you can."

You took the scripts, nodding, and tucked them under your arm. "Of course, I’ll make sure they get them."

"Great," your professor said, standing up. "You’re doing well with the play. Just make sure you keep the momentum going. Let me know if you need anything."

With a quick smile and a polite nod, you left her office. The hallways were deserted, the school echoing with the sound of your footsteps as you walked back to your classroom to drop off your things before heading to the gym.

Once you returned to the empty classroom, you placed the pile of scripts on your desk and started organizing them. The last thing you wanted was to carry a mess of papers with you to the gymnasium.

But just as you were about to finish, something slipped from the pile, falling to the floor with a soft thud. You crouched down, trying to grab it quickly, but in the process, the rest of the scripts followed, scattering in every direction.

"Great," you muttered under your breath, crouching down again to gather them all.

As you reached for the scattered pages, your eyes landed on one particular script—Jungwon’s. Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized the familiar handwriting on the cover.

Curious and, admittedly, a little nervous, you opened the script, flipping through the pages.

You froze.

The pages before you were filled with intimate details—details you never expected to see written down in such a way. It was his play, sure, but it was more than just a story—it was a record of everything you had ever experienced together, from his perspective.

The first scene you came across made your stomach flip. It was about the time you’d first noticed Jungwon at the vending machine—the way you both had awkwardly brushed past each other without ever speaking a word, and how, despite that, you felt something stir within you. Then, it was followed by a scene that took your breath away:

“He watched her, unsure how to approach her. His heart raced, but he was too afraid to speak. Would she even notice him?”

“She had no idea, but he had been quietly in love with her for a while now. He watched her with admiration from afar, unsure how to close the distance between them, afraid she wouldn’t feel the same.”

Your hands trembled as you read. It was about your confession to him, the moment you had told him how you felt, how he had turned you down, and how you had felt a part of you break. But what stopped your heart in its tracks was the next part:

“His chest tightened as he saw her face when she confessed. He didn’t know why he couldn’t just say the words back. He had wanted to, so badly. But the moment felt all wrong, the timing was off. He imagined confessing to her in a more intimate, personal space—just the two of them. He wanted to give her his best self when he said it, not under the scrutiny of friends. Not when she was the one taking the first step. That thought held him back."

"In that moment, seeing the hurt in her eyes, he understood just how much he had been lying to himself. He had always loved her, more than he had let on. But it was too late now. He had failed her."

You couldn’t breathe. The room spun around you as you tried to make sense of the words in front of you. His play—it wasn’t just about the story of two characters. It was about you. About him. About everything that had happened between the two of you.

And there it was, in black and white—his feelings for you, all these years, something he had never said aloud.

You were so caught up in the revelation that you didn’t hear the door open.

"Hey," a voice broke through your thoughts. Jungwon stood in the doorway, looking a bit concerned. "Everyone’s waiting for you. We’re about to start the practice."

You quickly snapped the script shut, your hands still trembling. Jungwon’s eyes flickered to the pile of papers you had spilled, his expression shifting when he saw the one you were holding.

Before you could say anything, he crossed the room quickly, reaching for the script you had been reading. "Give that to me," he said, his voice unusually serious.

You tried to pull it back instinctively, but Jungwon’s grip was firm. Without another word, he yanked it from your hands and tucked it under his arm.

"Jungwon—" you started, but he cut you off.

"Don’t," he said quietly, glancing at you with a flicker of something in his eyes—regret?

He quickly helped you gather the other scattered scripts, his movements swift but oddly gentle, as though trying to avoid causing any more tension. When everything was back in order, he straightened up, looking at you with an unreadable expression.

You nodded, still reeling from what you had just discovered. Without another word, you both left the classroom, walking side by side down the hall to the gymnasium.

The silence between you was thick, filled with unspoken words. You wanted to say something—anything—but you couldn’t find the right words.

And Jungwon? He didn’t say anything either. He simply walked beside you, his footsteps steady, his presence a quiet, unspoken reminder of everything that had just shifted between you.

As you approached the gymnasium, the muffled chatter and sounds of rehearsals filtered through the door. It was a stark contrast to the heavy silence between you and Jungwon. He paused briefly, glancing at you as if he wanted to say something but ultimately stayed silent. With a slight nod, he opened the door and stepped aside to let you enter first.

The cast was already bustling about, running lines and adjusting props. Riki, as usual, was at the center of the activity, demonstrating a dance sequence with a playful flair that drew laughter and cheers from everyone around him.

“Finally!” Riki called out when he spotted you. “Thought you’d abandoned us, boss.”

You forced a smile, but your mind was still stuck on Jungwon’s script. Riki must have noticed something off, because his grin faltered slightly as his eyes flicked between you and Jungwon.

“You good?” he asked, tilting his head. His voice was softer, more private, as he stepped closer.

“Yeah, just... long day,” you replied quickly, waving him off. The last thing you needed was more attention on whatever turmoil you were feeling.

Riki studied you for a moment longer before smirking. “Well, you’re here now. That’s all that matters.” He clapped his hands together, effectively pulling everyone’s focus back to the rehearsal. “Alright, people, let’s nail this!”

The next few hours passed in a blur, each moment charged with a mix of anticipation and tension. Jungwon, usually the calm and collected actor, was delivering his lines with an intensity that was hard to ignore.

His voice held a restrained urgency, as though every word carried more weight than it should. His eyes, too, were different today: dark, focused, and filled with an emotion that couldn’t quite be placed. It wasn’t anger or frustration, but something deeper—something unspoken.

Minji, always perceptive, noticed the change immediately. During one of the breaks, as the rest of the cast gathered around the table, she leaned in, a small but knowing smile on her lips.

“Jungwon, that was incredible! Whatever you’re channeling, keep it up.” Her voice was playful, teasing, but there was a certain depth in her eyes that suggested she wasn’t just complimenting his acting. She was recognizing something more—something raw, something between them.

Jungwon looked at her, his usual smile absent, replaced by a flicker of something complicated. For a brief moment, his gaze lingered on her, searching her face, as if weighing her words.

His lips parted slightly, but he didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he gave a slow nod, as though acknowledging her comment, but not quite willing to let go of the emotion he was carrying.

The chemistry between them was undeniable—electric, yet unspoken. It hung in the air like a tension neither was willing to address.

Minji noticed the pause, her expression softening as she regarded him. She wasn’t bothered by his silence; she was used to the layers beneath his exterior. But something in the way he looked at her—intense, almost vulnerable—made her heart skip a beat.

Something about the way their dynamic had shifted was undeniable, and Minji couldn’t help but wonder if Jungwon felt it too.

You, standing off to the side, watched the exchange with a quiet unease. You had become accustomed to their interactions during rehearsals—how they worked seamlessly together, how there was an unspoken rhythm between them.

But today, it felt different. There was a new level of intimacy in their shared glances, a quiet understanding that seemed to transcend the script.

Deciding to focus elsewhere, you turned your attention to Riki, who had the entire cast engaged in an impromptu choreography session. His infectious energy pulled everyone in, and even though you knew you had your own parts to direct, you couldn’t help but be distracted by the undercurrent of tension between Jungwon and Minji.

The way they stood near each other, their bodies close but not touching, was enough to make the air around them thick with unspoken words. Jungwon’s eyes would flicker toward Minji every so often, as though he couldn’t help himself, even as he pretended to focus on his lines. Minji, ever the professional, matched his energy, but there was something different in her demeanor too—an openness that seemed to invite his silent attention.

At one point, Minji laughed at something one of the other actors said, and Jungwon’s gaze followed her laugh, softening for a fraction of a second. He was caught in the moment, his usual composure slipping as he watched her.

For just a moment, it seemed like the world outside of them ceased to exist. Their chemistry was undeniable, a magnetic pull that neither could easily escape from.

As rehearsals continued, the dynamic between the two only grew more intense. Minji’s confidence fed off Jungwon’s intensity, and Jungwon seemed to find something in her presence that grounded him, making his performance richer, more layered.

The unspoken connection between them wasn’t just visible to the actors on stage, it was palpable to everyone in the room. The cast couldn’t help but notice the way they seemed to mirror each other’s movements, the way their eyes would meet at the most unexpected moments.

In your eyes, what they have was more than just good acting, it was something real. And you couldn’t ignore the weight of it—the way their relationship, both on and off stage, was evolving. The lines between performance and reality were blurring, and you couldn’t help but feel the emotional toll it was taking on all of you.

By the time rehearsal ended, you were exhausted, both physically and emotionally. As the cast began packing up, you lingered near the stage, tidying up stray props and papers.

“You’re still here?” Riki’s voice came from behind you. Turning, you found him leaning casually against a pillar, his bag slung over one shoulder.

“Just finishing up,” you replied.

He tilted his head, his playful grin returning. “Need help?”

You hesitated but shook your head. “It’s fine. Go ahead.”

Riki didn’t budge. Instead, he stepped closer, his expression softening. “Hey,” he said, his voice low. “You seem... distracted tonight. Did something happen?”

You opened your mouth to deny it, but the concern in his eyes stopped you. Riki’s usual teasing demeanor was gone, replaced by a sincerity that caught you off guard.

“It’s nothing,” you said after a pause. “Just... personal stuff.”

He didn’t press further, simply nodding as if to say he understood. “Well, if you need to talk—or vent—I’m around.” Then, with a wink, he added, “Can’t have my star director burning out before opening night.”

Despite everything, you couldn’t help but smile faintly. “Thanks, Riki.”

He gave you a mock salute before heading out, leaving you alone once more.

As you turned back to finish cleaning, you heard soft footsteps approaching. Glancing over your shoulder, you found Jungwon standing there, his hands shoved into his pockets. His gaze was cautious, almost apologetic.

“Can we talk?” he asked quietly.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you nodded, setting down the props you were holding. Jungwon stepped closer, the distance between you shrinking as he lowered his voice.

“About the script…” Jungwon began, his voice tight, as though each word had to be pulled from him. He hesitated, running a hand through his hair, his expression flickering with something deeper—something he wasn't ready to reveal. “I didn’t mean for you to see it. It wasn’t... ready.”

You stood frozen, heart pounding in your chest, overwhelmed by the weight of the moment. The sudden shift in Jungwon, the vulnerability in his voice—it caught you off guard. “It’s not just a story, is it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, afraid of the answer but unable to hold back the question.

Jungwon’s gaze met yours, dark and intense, as if he were trying to carve his soul into the air between you. For a brief second, you saw it—the raw emotion swirling beneath the composed surface, something so fragile and real that it made your chest tighten. His lips parted as though he was about to say something, but then his eyes flickered away, as if he couldn’t bear to meet yours any longer.

“No,” he whispered, his voice trembling with the weight of the secret he could no longer keep, like a confession he’d been holding back for far too long. “It’s not…” His words hung in the air, a razor-thin thread between you that neither of you could escape.

The tension in the space between you was suffocating, thick with the unspoken things that had been festering for weeks, months, maybe even years. You could feel your breath catch in your throat as you stepped forward, your heart racing in your chest.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Your voice cracked, the question more painful than anything you’d expected. The confusion, the hurt, the feeling of betrayal—everything you had bottled up finally erupted, sharp and raw. “Why wait until now, Jungwon? Why couldn’t you just... say it?”

His eyes were closed for a moment, his jaw clenched as if he was fighting something fierce inside himself. When he opened them again, the depth of the emotion there nearly broke you. He exhaled sharply, a shaky breath that made the air between you both feel like it was thickening, suffocating you both.

“Because I’m scared,” he admitted, the words spilling out in a rush, as if he couldn’t hold them in any longer. He stepped closer, but the space between you felt like miles. His voice cracked, raw with vulnerability. “Scared that if I told you, if I showed you what I really feel… it would ruin everything. I’m scared that when you graduate, when you leave for college… you won’t need me anymore. That I’ll be just some fading memory, and you’ll walk away from me without a second thought. And I… I can’t bear that.”

His words cut through you, deep and jagged, breaking something inside you. Your chest tightened, the world spinning as his confession sank in. His voice trembled with emotion, and for a moment, you didn’t know whether to cry or scream, the weight of everything you’d ever wanted from him crashing down in waves.

“I...” You swallowed, your voice unsteady as your heart hammered in your chest. “You... you really think that? You think I would forget you? That just because you’re going away, I wouldn’t still need you? You really believe that, Jungwon?” You stepped even closer now, the words pouring out of you faster than you could catch them. “You could’ve told me before. You should’ve told me before. You know how much I like you. Hell, everyone on campus knows. You said you’re going out of town for college? Do you really think that would change how I feel? It doesn’t. It never would’ve.”

Your voice broke as the last words slipped from your mouth, the emotion that had been simmering under the surface for so long finally breaking free. You weren’t sure when you had taken the step forward, but now, there was nothing between you but the distance of his unspoken words.

Jungwon’s face was tortured, like he was carrying the weight of something too heavy to bear. He bit his lip, his eyes filled with regret and something else—something deeper. And then, as if he couldn’t take the space between you any longer, he closed the distance, his breath warm against your skin.

But just as the tension reached its breaking point, the world seemed to shift. A loud crash, followed by a piercing scream from the far side of the auditorium, shattered the moment. The entire room fell into stunned silence.

You whipped your head around to see Minji sprawled on the floor, clutching her ankle, her face twisted in shock and pain.

The chaos erupted in an instant—cries of panic, footsteps scrambling toward her. But as you stood there, frozen, your heart still racing, all you could feel was the sting of everything unsaid, the weight of Jungwon’s confession hanging in the air, unfinished.

He hadn’t meant to pull away. Neither of you had. But in the next breath, everything had changed.

The commotion had taken everyone by surprise. Minji had been practicing a particularly complicated scene when she slipped, falling awkwardly and injuring her ankle badly. The room fell into chaos, the cast members rushing to her side, their faces filled with panic as she clutched her leg in pain.

“Someone get the nurse!” you shouted, but you were already on your way over, kneeling beside Minji, trying to calm her down. Jungwon was right beside you, his usual composed expression slipping into something much more concerned.

The moment the news came through, it felt like the entire world stopped. The hospital had confirmed that Minji had severely sprained her ankle—no one could have anticipated how badly she’d hurt herself, and now, there was no way she would be able to perform for at least two weeks, maybe more. The timing couldn’t have been worse. The performance was just days away, and without Minji, the play might not go on.

The cast gathered in the rehearsal room, tension thick in the air. You could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on you, the silent expectation building with every passing second. The murmurs began almost immediately as they discussed who could possibly fill in for Minji at the last minute.

“We could call in an understudy,” one member suggested, clearly grasping at straws.

“None of the understudies know the part as well as Minji does,” another replied, shaking their head. “We don’t have time for that.”

“We’ll figure something out. We’ll find someone who can—” Riki cut himself off, his face drawn with concern as he glanced at the empty space where Minji usually stood.

The silence that followed felt deafening. It was clear to everyone that there was no one else who could take over the role in such a short time. That’s when one of the cast members, a girl who had always been pragmatic to the point of bluntness, turned toward you. Her gaze was unwavering.

“Well... if we’re being realistic,” she began, the words hanging heavy in the air, “you know the lines, right?”

You froze, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest. “I—what?” you stammered, your stomach sinking as her eyes bored into you. The thought of stepping into Minji’s shoes, even for a moment, felt like an impossible task.

“You’ve been working with her the whole time and directed this whole play,” she continued, a hint of impatience in her voice. “You’re the only one who knows her part well enough to do this. Plus, you’re the one who wrote the play.”

“I—” You faltered, panic creeping into your throat. “I don’t know if I can...”

“You don’t have a choice,” another voice cut in sharply. It was Riki. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowed. “It’s you or no one. We don’t have time for hesitation. The play is in a week.”

The other cast members exchanged uneasy glances. Some of them, like Riki, seemed convinced that you were the only viable option, but others looked skeptical, unconvinced that you could actually pull it off.

“It’s not just about knowing the lines,” someone else muttered, crossing their arms. “It’s about embodying the role. You’re the director, sure, but stepping in for Minji? That’s a whole different challenge.”

The room fell into a tense silence, and you could feel the weight of the decision bearing down on you. Your palms were sweating, your mind racing. You glanced around, meeting Jungwon’s gaze for a brief moment. He was standing a few paces away, his expression unreadable, his eyes fixed on you. There was a softness in his gaze, but he didn’t speak up. He didn’t offer his support, not even a hint of reassurance. It was as though he was waiting for you to make the call on your own.

"I’m... I’m not sure I can do it," you said, your voice trembling as you shook your head. The words felt like an admission of failure even as they left your lips. The pressure was mounting, thick and suffocating. You could feel the anxious tension in the room, swirling around you.

Then another voice broke the silence, a supporting actress, her tone firm. “We don’t have time to find anyone else. You’re going to have to take the role, Y/N. There’s no other option.”

You hesitated, your heart thudding painfully in your chest, but the weight of the situation settled over you like a blanket. The others weren’t happy, and you weren’t sure you were either, but there was no room for second-guessing.

“Fine,” you muttered, almost too quietly for anyone to hear. “I’ll do it.”

Riki gave a brief nod, signaling that the decision was made. The cast moved forward, but there was no sense of triumph, only a shared understanding that the next few days would be exhausting and grueling. You weren’t sure what you had just agreed to, but it was clear that everyone was relying on you to make it work.

The first rehearsal in your new role was a mess. You stumbled through the lines, your tongue tripping over words that should’ve felt familiar. Every gesture that Minji had made with grace now felt awkward and forced. You felt like you were drowning, each second slipping away from you as you tried desperately to remember the blocking, the expressions, the emotions you needed to convey. The cast’s frustration was palpable.

“This isn’t how we rehearsed it,” one of the actors muttered under their breath, throwing you an annoyed glance as you fumbled with the choreography.

“Yeah,” another added, crossing his arms and clearly skeptical. “It’s going to take a lot more than this.”

You felt yourself shrink under their judgment, the weight of their eyes pressing on you. It wasn’t that they were outright cruel—it was more the fact that they were impatient. They didn’t think you could pull it off, and frankly, neither did you.

As the days passed, the rehearsals didn’t improve much. By the second day, you were losing confidence. You couldn’t stop comparing yourself to Minji, her effortless performance a constant reminder of how far you had to go. The tension between the cast members grew, and you could feel it in the air. Every practice session felt like a battle—one where you weren’t sure you were going to win.

Jungwon, as usual, was quiet during the rehearsals. He didn’t say much, but you could feel him watching you, always standing just a little further away than you would’ve liked. His eyes never left you, but he said nothing. His silence was both comforting and unnerving.

“Y/N, you’ve got to work harder,” one of your classmates said, his tone sharp as the cast took a break. “We don’t have time for mistakes. We know you have a lot on your plate, considering you’re still our director. Thankfully Riki’s now co-directing though. You just need to be better, we know you’re capable.”

His words stung more than they should’ve, especially when it wasn’t your fault that Minji had gotten hurt. But the pressure was unbearable. You were carrying the weight of the play on your shoulders, and it felt like the world was watching, waiting for you to fail.

It was during one particularly frustrating rehearsal that Jungwon finally spoke to you. You had just stumbled over another line and had nearly given up in frustration when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“You’re doing your best,” Jungwon said quietly, his voice a gentle balm against the harshness of the rehearsal room. You looked up at him, surprised by the softness in his words. His gaze was steady, unwavering. “I know it’s hard... but just trust yourself. You’re stronger than you think.”

His words—simple, calm—pierced through the storm of anxiety inside you. Something in his tone made you pause, made you take a breath. For the first time in days, you felt a flicker of reassurance.

“Thanks, Jungwon,” you murmured, the weight of his support grounding you. In that moment, despite everything, you felt like you could at least keep going. Maybe you couldn’t do it perfectly, but you could keep trying.

The performance day arrived in a blur of last-minute adjustments. Everyone was exhausted, nerves frayed, but despite the tension, there was a sense of collective determination. The theater was packed with an eager audience, and as you stood backstage, the reality of it all hit you.

You were about to step out onto the stage, alone in a role you hadn’t fully prepared for, a role that belonged to someone else. But then you looked at Jungwon—he was standing at the edge of the stage, watching you with a quiet intensity.

Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes met his, and in that moment, you found the strength you needed. He gave you a small, encouraging smile, and it was as though he was silently telling you that everything was going to be okay.

The stage was set. The audience’s murmurs faded as the play began, and the atmosphere shifted from anticipation to pure focus. The first few lines came out smoothly, and with each passing moment, the tension you had felt in the rehearsals started to melt away. The natural rhythm of the play flowed effortlessly between you and the other actors. But what you hadn’t expected—what you hadn’t anticipated—was how easy it felt to perform alongside Jungwon.

Every movement, every word, every glance felt effortless. As soon as you shared the first scene with him, there was an unspoken connection. His presence on stage was magnetic—his voice strong, yet soft, filled with depth. And his eyes—those eyes—spoke volumes without him having to utter a single word. You hadn’t expected to feel so at ease, so in sync with him, but it was as though you were breathing in rhythm, your performances becoming one.

Lila: (Her voice laced with doubt, her eyes searching his for reassurance.) “You... you really think you could want me? I’m nothing like the women you’re used to, Lawrence. I don’t belong in your world.”

Lawrence (Jungwon): (His voice calm, unwavering, as he looks at her with a sincerity that catches her off guard.) “I’ve always wanted you, Lila. You. Not the world you think I live in. Not the money or status. Just you.”

The way his words lingered in the air made your heart flutter. His gaze softened, and in that fleeting moment, it felt as if the entire world faded away. The audience, the stage, the lights—they all disappeared, leaving only the connection between your characters.

In this scene, Lila was supposed to be uncertain, lost in her own doubts, but Adrian’s unwavering confidence made it feel like she could do anything. He gave her the strength to believe in herself, just by being there.

Lawrence (Jungwon): (His voice deepens, a subtle warmth behind his words as he steps closer.) “You’re not alone in this, Lila. Not anymore. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

For a split second, it felt as though the scene had stopped being fiction, as if Jungwon himself wasn’t just acting but revealing a deeper part of himself. His sincerity was unmistakable. The chemistry between you was undeniable, and for a moment, you almost forgot that you were acting. Your heart skipped a beat, and you had to remind yourself to stay in character.

Lila: (Her voice trembling just enough to make it feel real, her eyes searching his face.) “I... I’m scared, Lawrence. What if I’m not enough for you? What if I’m just some joke to you?”

He took a step closer, closing the distance between you, his eyes never leaving yours. The intensity of his gaze was enough to make your breath hitch in your throat.

Lawrence (Jungwon): (His voice firm, a promise in his words.) “Then I’ll be enough for both of us.” (He reaches out, gently cupping her cheek.) “This isn’t a game, Lila. I’m not here for some joke. I’m here for you.”

The line was so simple, so full of promise. And yet, in that moment, it felt like the most powerful declaration you had ever heard. The tension between the two characters—no, between you and Jungwon—was growing stronger with every passing second.

Lila: (Her heart racing, her voice a whisper.) “Are you sure? This... all of this feels too good to be true.”

Lawrence (Jungwon): (Stepping closer, his breath almost mingling with hers, his voice tender and serious.) “I’m sure, Lila. I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

The scene continued, each word flowing naturally, each touch, each exchange building the emotion. But nothing could have prepared you for what happened next.

As the final scene began to unfold, your characters stood face to face, the final lines lingering in the air. The tension had shifted. It wasn’t just the chemistry of the characters anymore—it was the undeniable pull between the two of you. Your heart pounded as you spoke the last few lines, your voice quiet, almost hesitant.

Lila: (Softly, her voice trembling.) “Is this... is this really goodbye?”

Lawrence (Jungwon): (His expression a mix of sadness and longing as he steps closer.) “No. Not if you don’t want it to be.”

And in that split second, just as the final words should have left your mouth, Jungwon did something unexpected. He didn’t wait for the cue. Instead, without a word, he leaned in toward you, closing the space between you until his face was mere inches from yours. The audience gasped as he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek—soft, fleeting, but full of emotion.

You froze. The script hadn’t called for it. No one had prepared you for this. Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, it felt as though time itself had stopped. The kiss—completely unplanned—was full of unspoken meaning. It was a promise. A confession. It was everything he hadn’t said on stage, but everything his eyes had been telling you all along.

When Jungwon pulled back slightly, he met your gaze with a softness you had never seen before. His eyes were vulnerable, as though he had just exposed something deep within himself that he wasn’t ready to share with anyone else. Then he adjusted his lavalier microphone slightly away from his mouth as he leans into you again.

“This wasn’t on your script... but it was on mine,” he whispered to your ear. It was barely inaudible that you wouldn’t believe he said that.

The words settled over you like a spark, igniting something inside your chest. You couldn’t speak. The world had shifted in that single moment. The play—everything—had suddenly become something so much more. The chemistry between you was undeniable, and the connection between your characters now felt so real.

The audience had fallen silent, their eyes wide in shock, but you didn’t notice them. You didn’t hear the applause. All that mattered was Jungwon, standing there before you. The final scene had ended, but in that moment, it felt like the true beginning of something neither of you had expected.

As the curtain began to close, you stood side by side with him, your heart racing. The play was over, but it didn’t feel like an ending. Not to you. Not to Jungwon. Not anymore. You both knew, without saying another word, that this wasn’t just a performance. It was real. This connection, this feeling, this chemistry—it was something that had always been there, hidden beneath the surface. And now, you were finally seeing it for what it was.

As you walked off stage, the weight of the moment seemed to cling to you, like the lingering echo of a song that you couldn't forget. The applause rang in your ears, distant and muted, as if you were in another world, separated from the reality that had once felt so familiar. The connection you shared with Jungwon—it was no longer just a performance. It was something raw, something real. And as your footsteps echoed through the backstage corridor, you couldn't shake the feeling that this moment was just the beginning.

Jungwon slowed his pace beside you, his steps in perfect sync with yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. The smile he gave you was soft, almost hesitant, but his eyes—they were full of something you hadn’t seen before. There was no pretension, no calculated charm. Just a quiet sincerity that spoke volumes.

"I didn't mean for it to be like this," he said, his voice low, but it carried with it the weight of everything unsaid. “I should’ve told you sooner. All the things I was too scared to say before, all the things that kept me from being honest with you...”

You turned to face him, your heart pounding in your chest, unsure of what to say. But Jungwon didn’t wait for your response. His hand reached out, brushing lightly against your arm, his fingers grazing your skin like a question that hadn’t been answered.

“I don’t want to leave things unfinished,” he continued, his voice now firm, but his gaze vulnerable. “And I don’t want to go on pretending that I don’t feel this... whatever this is between us. I know I’ve been an idiot. I didn’t want to mess this up... But I can’t keep pretending anymore.” He took a breath, stepping even closer. “I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time. And not just as some role in a play or as some unspoken dream. I... I like you. All of you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath with you. His words, raw and unguarded, hit you in a way you never expected. It was more than just the confession—it was the vulnerability, the sincerity in his eyes. He wasn’t hiding anymore.

And then, as if that wasn’t enough, he stepped closer, his voice softening as he leaned in again, this time closer than before. “You deserve to know the truth. Not just as an actor, not just as someone I worked with, but as someone who means something more than I ever let on. I never wanted to hurt you, and I’m sorry for making you feel like you didn’t matter.”

The silence between you stretched out for what felt like an eternity, and in that moment, everything else—everything that had once mattered—faded away. You took a shaky breath, the words finally bubbling to the surface. “Jungwon,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “I... I didn’t know what to think, what to believe. But hearing you say this now, I—”

Before you could finish, he gently cupped your face, his touch warm and steady. He smiled, that familiar, charming smile you’d seen a thousand times before, but now it felt like it carried a weight of meaning that it never had.

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” he said, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Just know that I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere… for now.”

Your heart was racing, and you nodded slowly, your chest swelling with emotions you had kept hidden for far too long.

Just as the moment felt like it was about to crescendo into something you couldn’t quite grasp, a voice interrupted from the shadows of the backstage.

“Hey, you two!” Riki’s voice was loud, teasing, and unmistakable as he stepped into the light, a grin plastered on his face. He caught the glance between you and Jungwon and immediately raised an eyebrow. “What’s all this tension about, huh? You guys didn’t think the play was over, did you?”

Jungwon stepped back slightly, a small chuckle escaping him as he ran a hand through his hair, though his gaze never left yours. "We were just wrapping up... some things."

Riki’s grin softened, his playful expression giving way to something more sincere as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You two…” he said, glancing between you and Jungwon, his eyes knowing. “You don’t have to explain. It’s about time.”

The weight of Riki’s words settled between the three of you, and in that moment, everything clicked into place. Riki wasn’t just the supportive friend. He was the one who understood—who had always known, even when the two of you hadn’t. It was a relief, in a way, to have that acknowledgment, that understanding.

“I guess we’ll see where this goes then,” Jungwon said, his voice soft but confident, his gaze returning to you, full of meaning.

Riki gave a playful roll of his eyes before clapping Jungwon on the shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t mess this up, alright?” he teased, but there was warmth in his words, a reassurance that everything was going to be fine.

"See you around, boss."

You couldn’t help but smile, a weight lifting off your shoulders. It was clear now. No more games, no more pretending. This was real. And as the three of you stood there, a sense of closure washed over you—the play was over, but this new chapter? It was just beginning.

And maybe, just maybe, it was going to be everything you had always wanted.

permanent taglist: @tinycatharsis @han-to-my-minho @1starqi @wensurr @yjwonsgf @lovestruck-moonlight @leah-rose03 @kanonjji @kyunlov @somuchdard @seongiewon @luumiinaa @enhaverse713586 @lynanist @cakuqe @hhyvsstuff @gardenwons @frankenstein852 @firstclassjaylee @lamin143 @serenadehera @elove2047

hello guys! i haven't had the chance to reply to each of you under my paramedic jungwon fic. but this taglist will be the one I'll be using for the series! lmk if you want to be removed from the permanent taglist, I'll still add you to the paramedic jungwon taglist nonetheless <3

send me an ask or reply if you wanna be part of the tl! love youuu! happy holidays <333

[eddiediazismyhusband]

if you want eddie to fuck a priest then go read eddie/priest fanfiction on ao3, but leave it at that

eddie does not need another relationship before buddie canon regardless of what some of yall seem to think about queer people somehow needing to be infantilized and needing to date around before settling down which is not true at all and i (as a queer person) am tired of seeing that narrative that someone’s queer realization has to be through a stepping stone relationship

(also this notion just completely saying fuck you to the character development of eddie’s insanely demi coded self)

but of course knowing tim minear and his proclivity to infusing random ass kinks into queer ships he may be unable to pass up the opportunity to profit off the priest kink of it all and force us to watch as he writes a knock off fleabag rather than just committing to the chemistry and subtext he himself has infused into his work for 6 years🙄😒

[sabomasochism]

Every time I see a post calling Ace/Sabo problematic I want to scream.

(Any time I see a post calling ANY ship problematic I want to scream but it was an Ace/Sabo thing that broke the camel’s back today so that’s what you get.)

Two points;

One: no ship is problematic. These are FICTIONAL CHARACTERS in a FICTIONAL RELATIONSHIP. If you don’t like it or don’t want to read about it, don’t. Just because you don’t like something does not make it inherently morally questionable or ‘problematic.’

Every time you make a statement about what ships are ‘problematic’ you encourage censorship, impose your own weird puritanical panic on other people, alienate members or your own fandom community— and personally piss me off: a grave offense.

Two: I AM BEGGING Y’ALL TO STOP CONFLATING SWORN BROTHERHOOD WITH INCEST. Folks. Please. Or you better at least be consistent about it and ALSO refuse to ship Ace/Marco, Izou/Thatch, or any of the Whitebeards together, because, news flash, that is also sworn brotherhood.

(Which again, for the people not listening, does not make those ships ‘problematic’ it just makes them things you personally don’t like, which is a very different thing.)

If you don’t then your problem is, what, that Ace and Sabo knew each other as kids when they swore that brotherhood? Cool, do you also demonize all childhood sweetheart stories? Just full-stop think kids are incapable of emotional intelligence and agency? Think relationships and emotions are static and set in stone once established and never change over a lifetime and circumstances?

I lied there are three points; y’all are MISSING OUT by shoving all these excellent potential relationship dynamics into a box you refuse to look at (the drama! The pining! The feelings going romantic on one end and remaining brotherly on the other! The MUTUAL pining! The soul-rending grief of memory reclaimed too late and never getting answers for what might have been! The happy fluffy AUs where everything is fine! The first confusing rush of love with someone who knows you almost better than you know yourself! Graveside confessions of first crushes to someone who you lost and can never get back!) and I for one am kinda sad for you.

tl;dr: Just because you don’t like something does not a) make you correct or b) make that thing inherently wrong on any moral or social level. It’s all fictional my dudes. (Though ‘just because I don’t like something doesn’t make it inherently evil’ is a thing you could probably stand to take out in the real world too, just saying.)

If you don’t like it, don’t engage with it, but stop trying to guilt, judge, or publicly exclude other people for doing so.

[mattyriddlesbitch]

I don’t see any rules for what you do and don’t write but I’m thinking ghostface/stalker Mattheo Riddle, Theodore Nott or Tom Riddle

Yesssss, I love Scream! Let me know if you guys want more of this with the other boys or more of Mattheo!

My Princess

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Warnings: Stalking, killing, Ghostface, mention of assault

Don't read if this stuff bothers you!

There’s been reportings of a murderer in your area. One who donned a mask. ‘Ghostface’ is what they started calling him.

It was scary, trying to live with a serial killer nearby, who could be anyone since no one saw their face.

The killings seemed random at first. No pattern, no specific target demographic, no connections to each other.

Then, unfortunately or fortunately for you, he killed your cheating ex. And your old bully. And that one teacher who seemed like he had it out for you.

It got scarier for you. Seeing so many people who had connections to you being killed.

Only, it got worse when, the day after the murders, little boxes appeared at your door with an item from the victims and flowers. Each time, you called the cops, but they would make a report and leave, saying they can’t really do anything else.

It was frustrating and terrifying. You invested in a doorbell camera, hoping to catch whoever it was leaving these on your doorstep. But they didn’t show up again. Not at your door, at least.

Next was a box on your bed in your room, this one just filled with flowers and jewelry. As soon as you saw it, you got chills and a gut-wrenching feeling knowing they were in your room.

You called the cops again, but since there was no footage or DNA left behind, all they could do was make another report.

They started leaving notes now. Telling you how pretty you are, how sweet you are, how much he adores you and is obsessed with you. Again, cops won’t do anything, no DNA or footage.

You set a camera up in your room to catch them. You caught them when you were at work, but they were in a Ghostface mask and waved at your camera. They left a note on your bed and left. That was all they did that you caught on camera. You stopped sleeping at your place, waiting for the lease to end in a few months. Your friends let you crash at their place until the notes and gifts started showing up there. You had to go back to your place since no one wanted to let you in theirs with fear they’d show up.

They promised to never hurt you, they were protecting you, they were keeping you safe from everyone who ever hurt you or plans to hurt you.

You heard about a co-worker that was killed one day at work, and the next day, you see papers of screenshots printed out from the co-worker talking about what he wanted to do to you, how he was planning on asking you out to a bar and assaulting you. That made you feel sick. But now you were starting to see this stalker was telling the truth. Maybe they were protecting you.

You still kept the cameras up and bought some weapons for your place, even a handgun.

“You don’t need all this protection, princess. I’ll always protect you.” That was on a note left on your bed, but they left all your weapons alone.

You finally had enough of the cops not doing anything, of no one helping you, of not feeling safe anymore. Whoever this was wasn’t hurting you, just being creepy. You wrote notes back to them, asking who they were and why they kept stalking you.

“Stalking? No, I’m protecting you.” They would write back. “I wouldn’t do anything to harm you. You’re precious to me. I love you.”

It really didn’t help the creepiness, but at least you were finally talking to them. You were hoping to gain their trust and meet them, hopefully kill them.

“You wanna meet me, princess? It’s tempting. But I wouldn’t want you to do something irrational.” They wrote back. “Do you trust me?”

You wanted to say ‘no’ but you couldn’t. Not if you wanted to meet them.

So you said ‘yes’ and the notes stopped. You thought you scared them away maybe. Maybe they thought it was too much to meet you.

Until a few days later, you had just gotten back from work. It was a Friday night and you sat at your counter in the kitchen, drinking wine, trying to calm your nerves from everything. You were always on edge nowadays and needed something to help with it. You were tipsy at this point, just eating and drinking as you let yourself relax.

Then you saw a figure emerge from the hallway to stand on the other side of the counter from you, wearing all black and the Ghostface mask.

You panicked and tried running, but your stalker was faster. They grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to them, grabbing your other wrist as well to keep you from running.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, princess.” A male voice said behind the mask. “You wanted to meet. I’m here.”

You were still panicking, but stopped fighting him. You stared at the mask. Fear took over your body again when you remembered he didn’t just stalk you, but also killed people and you kicked him and took off running again when he let go, running towards your room since that was closest. He ran after you, blocking the door before you could close it. 

“Please, I don’t want any of this. I-” You broke into sobs as you backed away.

“No, no , no, princess. I won’t hurt you. I promise. You’re the most important thing in my life.” He said, closing the door behind him as he spoke softly.

“Why do you do this?” You asked with a shaky voice.

“To protect you. No one will ever hurt you, baby.” He was walking closer and you backed up until you hit the wall.

“Who are you?” You asked, still crying from fear.

He took off his mask to reveal someone you worked with. The co-worker your dead co-worker was messaging about you with.

“Mattheo?” You said with a confused look.

“I just wanted to protect you. To keep you safe from all the evil in the world. You don’t deserve any of that.” He was still speaking softly as he stepped in front of you.

“You killed people.” You whispered.

“People who hurt you. I couldn’t let them live after hurting you.” He said, touching your arm softly and you flinched.

“They didn’t deserve that.”

“They did. You’re perfect. No one should ever hurt you or make you feel bad again.” He moved his other hand to your hair. “I’ve been dreaming about touching you for so long.” His voice was quiet. As much as you feared him, his touch was reverent, like he was savoring every touch of your skin.

“Why did you break into my house?” You asked quietly, meeting his eyes.

“You put the camera up. I wasn’t ready to be caught just yet.” He said with a small smile, trailing his hand up and down your arm, his other hand running through your hair gently.

“We work together. Why didn’t you just talk to me if you felt this way?”

“I was too nervous. You’re perfect. You’re so pretty and funny and sweet and I couldn’t stand the thought of you rejecting me.” His hand on your arm moved up to cup your cheek. “Would you reject me now?”

You shook your head. “No. I wouldn’t.” You said, but you were still terrified.

He smiled. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, hoping if you played along, you could get away at some point.

He leaned in and kissed you gently, timidly. He was nervous. You kissed back, trying to think of a way out of this. It was hard to think when he was kissing you so sweetly.

He broke the kiss and looked at your face. “Your lips are softer than I ever imagined.” He smiled again, brushing his thumb along your cheek. “You’re mine now, yeah?”

“Yes.” You nodded.

“My princess. All mine now.” He said before kissing you again.

Now that you were in his hands, he wasn’t letting you go.

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @ireallyneed-somesleep @soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict

Let me know if you wanna be added!

[uzurakis]

DEALING WITH A BROKEN HEART!

featuring: gojo satoru. itadori yuuji. megumi fushiguro. nanami kento.

how they would comfort you after you’re rejected by your crush! (requested)

n. didn’t proofread n i wrote this at midnight cz i still hafta catch up on my reqs. i’m only a hooman guys!! so pls sorry for any typos or mistakes ajhauns and i specifically chose this manga panel 4 OBVIOUS reasons . .

GOJO SATORU. “wanna know what i’m thinking?” he started, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, “it’s their loss! obviously, they don’t have great taste.”

you managed a weak smile, shaking your head. “thanks, satoru. but it still . . hurts.”

gojo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and giving you a serious look that was rare for him. “look, i get it. rejection sucks. but honestly, you’re way out of their league.”

then you raised an eyebrow, unable to hold back a small laugh. “really? you think so?”

he nodded emphatically, his usual smirk returning. “duh, absolutely. i mean, who wouldn’t want to be with someone as amazing as you? they’re probably just too intimidated by your awesomeness.”

you rolled your eyes, but the humor in his words did frankly lift your spirits a bit. “you’re just saying that.”

“nope, i’m dead serious.” gojo straightened up, putting a hand over his heart. “in fact, i’m starting to think i should be worried. you’re gonna have a line of people trying to win you over, and i’ll have to fend them all off.”

ITADORI YUUJI. “hey,” he said softly, nudging your shoulder with his. “c’mere, i feel you need a hug.”

you looked up at him, your eyes misty, and saw the genuine care in all over, very clear midst his expression. without a word, you leaned into him, and he wrapped his strong arms around you, holding you close. the warmth of his embrace began to melt the icy sadness in your heart.

“i’m really sorry,” he whispered, voice gentle. then he pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. “but you don’t have to go through this alone. let’s do something together to take your mind off things. how about a movie night?”

a small smile tugged at your lips despite the tears. “a movie night?”

“yeah!” he said, his pupils lighting up. “we can watch whatever you want. comedy, action, even those cheesy romance movies you love.”

you laughed a little at that, appreciating his attempt to lift your spirits. “hmm okay, that sounds good.”

“great!” he stood up, offering you his hand. “and don’t worry, i’ll bring all the snacks. we’ll have a proper movie marathon!”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. “um, do you want to talk about what happened?” megumi asked softly, his voice steady and inviting. “it might help to get it off your chest.”

you sighed as you felt the sting of tears threatening to fall. “i don’t even know where to start,” mumbling the words above a murmur.

“that’s okay. just take your time. i’m here to listen.”

for a moment, the two of you sat in silence. it wasn’t uncomfortable, though. it was the kind of silence that felt like a warm embrace, giving you space to collect your thoughts. you glanced up at the sky, searching for the right words.

“they just . . didn’t feel the same way,” you finally said, voice cracking. “i thought there was something there, but i guess i was wrong.”

his gaze softened. “rejection is hard,” he then said quietly. “but it doesn’t define you. it doesn’t change who you are or your worth.”

finding comfort in his steady presence, you looked at him. “i just feel so stupid for thinking there was a chance.”

“you’re not stupid,” the guy replied firmly. “you took a chance, and that takes courage. it’s okay to feel hurt, but don’t let this make you doubt yourself.”

NANAMI KENTO. after a moment, nanami broke the silence. “you deserve someone who sees how incredible you are. this just wasn’t the right person.”

you glanced up at him, but your eyes filled with tears. “but it felt like they were the right person,” you said, voice trembling. “how could i have been so wrong?”

in a moment, his face softened, nanami’s usual stoic demeanor giving way to concern. “it’s not about being wrong. sometimes, people just aren’t capable of seeing what’s right in front of them. you have so much to offer. one day, someone will see that and appreciate you for who you are.”

“it just hurts so much right now.”

he nodded, understanding. “it’s completely normal to feel this way. anyone would be upset. it’s a natural reaction to a difficult situation.”

you took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. “i just don’t know what to do next.”

nanami leaned forward, his eyes earnest. “then take your time to heal. focus on yourself and what makes you happy. you’re strong, and you’ll get through this.”

@uzurakis

[b38rman]

READ YOUR MIND ᯓ★ Ollie Bearman

tags - ollie bearman x afab!reader, friends to lovers, fluff, slight miscommunication, loosely inspired by the sabrina carpenter song of the same name

synopsis - This was definitely not on the marketing internship job offering for Prema Racing. You swore you had everything under control before this—before Ollie Bearman took up most of the weekend's agenda.

rating - teen and up readers

warnings - slightly suggestive ending

a/n - i wrote this before ollie was announced as a 2025 f1 driver and the slight implications of dread related to that uncertainty are littered throughout this work so just keep that in mind (or not) enjoy!

Thursday — Spain, 2024

The unmistakable sound of the hotel doorbell rang through your room. Admittedly, the best time to go to sleep had already passed you by at this point, considering the 7 AM lobby call time the team had for you. Unfortunately, the restlessness that could only be attributed to constant location changes seeped into your bones.

You got up, trying to dispell the feeling populating your gut. Perhaps, more than anything, it was the dull influx of certainty. You were still learning how to get used to this.

You opened the door slightly, just enough to see who was on the other side. 

“Took you long enough.” The familiar rumble of Ollie’s voice filled your ears, as he pushed his way into your bedroom.

At this point, you were 100% sure that any of this was not part of any of the contracts Prema made you sign when they offered you the internship. No matter how much you looked between the lines of wage and non-disclosures, you wouldn’t find what you and Ollie had anywhere.

It was just that it was becoming a routine at this point. From the beginning of the season, Ollie seemingly couldn’t find a better victim than you for his late night musings. You tried to gently reprimand him at first, telling him off about his bedtime and his racing and all of the things he’d scoff at you for and turn a stubbornly deaf ear towards.

Ollie rounded the room slowly, his white sleep shirt and flannel pajamas contrasting against your worn summer camp shirt and cotton shorts. You felt overexposed, as you always did in these situations. 

“Wanna play Mario Kart?” Ollie asked, mindlessly making his way to your side of the bed.

You thought about it for a second before responding, “Nope, too tired to be that stressed out.”

Ollie hummed in acknowledgment before laying back onto your bed, phone in hand, with his legs still dangling over the edge. He always took your side of the bed, despite it very obviously being rumpled and occupied.

You climbed onto the other side and tucked yourself in under the sheets. As if on instinct, Ollie moved his head upward, resting it on your stomach, before locking his phone and setting it on his chest. 

“I just feel a bit odd, you know? Like everyone says so many good things about me but really, I haven’t done anything.” He looked to the ceiling as he rambled. “I have another FP1 tomorrow and all I can think about is how I don’t know how to be what people want me to be. I don’t know how to keep being good, or how to really be good; will people even look back and think I was good?” 

“That’s some bad imposter syndrome you got there, huh?” You stretched your hand out and lightly laid it on his head, stretching your fingers against the expanse of brown waves. Ollie leaned into the touch, shutting his eyes.

“The only thing that should matter is who you want to be.” You grinned fondly at him, even if he couldn’t see it. “Besides, you’re way too young to be worrying stuff like that.”

“We’re the same age.” He opened his eyes just to look at you as he said that. 

“And do you see me worrying about my legacy?” You joked, earning a toothy smile and a roll of eyes from Ollie. 

At every moment you’ve spent with Ollie so far, he’s not felt like someone that appears on national television broadcasts or on carefully curated Pinterest boards. You could almost see yourself looking across the lecture hall, seeing him, and wondering if he was really paying attention or just browsing on his laptop.

Instead, he was one of the boys you’d keep track of social media appearances for. You managed his filming schedules for both long-form and short-form videos, and wove through seas of people and motorhomes with him to find a spot to record his little post-race briefs. You weren’t assigned to him specifically, but it usually was you and him most of the time.

“It’s, um, getting late.” You tried not to be too awkward about untangling your hand from Ollie’s hair. “I think you should get some rest.”

You waited for him to complete the final part of this routine you had going, wherein he’d sleepily walk to his own bedroom and you’d fall asleep in your own fully warmed bed. 

Except for the fact that he didn’t do that at all. 

“Could I just stay here? I don’t really want to be alone right now.” You felt Ollie shift ever so slightly from where he was, head still resting on you.

Questions on professionality and ethics rang through your mind one after another. 

“Are you sure?” Was all you could muster. 

Ollie seemed to recognize your concern without you voicing it. After all, you weren’t particularly discreet about any of it. 

“I’ll just wake up earlier, it’ll be fine.” He finally raised his head and began setting an alarm for five in the morning. Part of you knew it was futile. Considering everything, it was a bold move, considering that it was just past midnight.

You watched him mindlessly, as he turned all the lights off, only leaving the light from the bathroom peaking out through a slight opening in its door. For a moment, you let yourself think of a time and place where this was a normal occurrence—one where him curling up in bed next to you in near complete darkness felt like a grounding force instead of a guilt-inducing one.

You turned to face away from where he was laying, opting to try and not make this any weirder than it could be. 

“Good night.” He said regardless. “Sweet dreams.” He said, in a softer voice, almost as if he didn’t want you to hear him. 

You could feel his body near yours, almost as if the full size bed was too cramped for the two of you. 

“Sweet dreams, Ollie.” You replied.

You felt him roll over to his back as you drifted off to sleep. 

Friday

Your eyes shot open at the sound of an iPhone alarm going off, obviously being the one Ollie set a few hours prior. What you didn’t immediately process was the arm wrapped around your waist, and the soft snores coming from the face that was nuzzled into your hair. Your heart was pounding. 

“Ollie,” You lightly shook the arm that was over you. “Ollie, wake up.”

You were only met with a long grunt and a tightened grip.

“Ollie, please, come on.” You tried sitting up to give him a bit more of a hint, displacing his arm on you.

Finally, he rolled over, turning off his alarm. The sun was barely out yet, and you saw him squinting at you through his sleepy eyes. 

“I don’t want to go.” He said softly and groggily, toying with a loose string on your worn shirt. 

“You have to.” You replied with every ounce of control in your body.

Ollie grunted faintly before stretching his arms over his head, silently sitting up and making his way out of the door as quickly as he came through it. 

Everything kept moving into the next day. You’d comprehensively briefed Kimi in the morning on his share of marketing activities over breakfast and sneaked some Live at Prema footage here and there, with Ollie notably paying less attention and getting called by some F1 media members midway. 

The constant elephant in the room was the tinge of disappointment the team felt due to Ollie’s slightly lackluster feeder performances in direct comparison to all of the F1 hype surrounding him, which no amount of sarcastic humor from the team could conceal. 

Despite everything that happened the night prior, everything remained calm and professional (he barely acknowledged you outside of what he needed to do, which was both a relief and a punch to the gut). 

Between photoshoots and practice sessions, you’d spotted Ollie from afar. Barely anyone could get a hold of him after free practice, as he was justifiably rushing between garages. 

He was up and down the paddock clad in his black Haas shirt, clearly moving with an air of confidence that filled your chest with something you couldn’t describe. This Ollie felt worlds away, which brought you as much joy and pride as it did a hint of melancholy. You were still figuring out what he was making you feel, but at times like this, he felt worlds away.

You were pulled away from your thoughts as quickly as they came to you, as you engrossed yourself in content with the F1 Academy drivers. When you weren’t doing that, you were organizing paperwork, analyzing metrics, and sifting through footage on your phone and camera.

The feeling you suppressed earlier only returned as the F1 cars hit the track. You thought about how near he felt at present, just at touching distance in the space between your hotel room and Grisignano de Zocco; but you also thought about how faraway everything would become after Prema, and how much you’d have to feel if you allowed yourself to let your guard down around Ollie.

After all, every sane racing driver would hope that feeder wouldn’t be forever. Deep inside you, though, you wished this feeling wouldn’t just be hidden in the footnotes of what would become Ollie’s career. Nevertheless, the sheer idea of wanting someone who was literally the face of a future generation of racing amidst the backdrop of him being capable of being wanted by every other person in the world felt incredibly absurd and daunting to say the least. 

(The two of you weren’t even anything. You weren’t really sure about these thoughts.)

After your rumination and the inevitable conclusion of the free practice session, you continued your work as you were directed to. It was entirely a coincidence, though, that your next duties included bringing parts of Ollie’s race kit and his water to his area in the shared driver’s area in preparation for qualifying. As every internship went, you often had miscellaneous work to fulfill.

Kimi had already finished his personal preparations for qualifying, already looking over last minute data, while Ollie was running late due to his prior commitment. The air was undeniably stress-ridden, as your first real encounter of the race day with Ollie was him scrambling to get into his overalls and suit, but you set everything down calmly while pointedly avoiding eye contact.

“Was starting to think you didn’t miss me at all.” Ollie was the first to break the silence, imploring you to look up at him.

Warmth filled your body at his words. For a moment, you worried that he knew he had some type of effect on you, but you quickly pulled yourself together mentally. 

“One less person to persuade to listen to my content briefs.” You shrugged, smiling at him playfully, almost daring him to retaliate. 

As the rush caught up to both of you, the only cohesive answer to your banter that he gave you before exiting into the garage was a soft squeeze on your forearm. 

“We’re friends, right?” Ollie asked, already tucking himself into your bed without hesitation.

Once Ollie was done slumping over in qualifying debriefs with the team, he made his way to your room again. It was the same routine as last night, just with a lot less talking.

The thing is, you weren’t saying anything either. That in itself said a lot.

You looked at him, eyebrows scrunched together. “Yes?”

Well, you were sharing a bed, tucked under the same sheets, staring face to face at each other in the dim yellow light of your Barcelona hotel room. 

“Maybe? I don’t know, Ollie—“ You second-guessed for a moment before continuing, “—I’m literally an intern. We work together, technically.” 

Ollie’s face twisted into something unreadable. His eyes shifted to the side as he mouthed the word ‘technically’ under his breath. 

“I mean, I guess we could be friends if you want.” You followed up. God, you felt ridiculous for having a conversation that sounded like this. 

He took a breath, deep and slow. “I want a lot of things,”He answered.

Ollie looked at right you, eyes so big, bright, and endless.

“I know.” You replied impulsively, in a voice barely above a whisper. 

He got so dangerously close to you that you could feel the warmths of his breaths on your face. 

“You don’t.” The weight of his gaze felt like it was melting you from the inside out. “You really don’t.” 

Ollie closed the gap between the two of you, his dry lips engulfing yours for what felt like an eternity, despite it being maybe a five-second peck at most. When he pulled away, you were breathing like he’d taken all of the air out of your lungs just from the sheer pace your heart was beating at.

A look of uncertainty flashed across his almost annoyingly pretty face. The kiss was so sweet, and you hated to be the one to make him question himself.

“We shouldn’t.” You said in conjuction with your uncontrollable heartbeats and air-filled breaths. 

“Then tell me you don’t want this.” Ollie challenged, laying one calloused, warm hand on your cheek.

“Ollie—“ You tried to protest. Every logical part of your brain was telling you how wrong all of this was, and how stupid you were for letting this happen in the first place.

In spite of all that, you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. You couldn’t lie to him for the life of you. 

You wanted this so bad. All you could do was want.

You laid your cold hand atop the one cupping your face, and let yourself look back at the earnest look on his face. You felt overexposed, sensitive all over like you’d been put out in the sun for too long.

“Please.” You could barley manage words, but you finally let yourself lean into him to erase every seed of doubt planted in his mind. 

The movement of your lips against one another quickly turned hot and heavy, and you let Ollie take and take everything he could’ve wanted. His hand wandered down to your neck and achingly close to your chest, as his kisses migrated down to your neck.

“We—ah—we really shouldn’t be doing this,” You weakly attempted to be rational, even if your hand was tangled in his hair and heat was quickly pooling between your thighs.

In response, he dove right below your collar bone, beginning with a bite and continuing with not-so-subtly marking you there, coaxing a mix between a gasp, wimper, and a soft moan out of you. 

It was glaringly obvious that he didn’t care all that much.

[ilovepaigebueckerss]

mystery roommate

pairing: p.b x fem! reader

word count: 481

summary: While Paige and KK were live you made an appearance not knowing what it would lead to.

HI GUYSSSS!! i do still write dw🥰 i whipped this up rq so yall wouldn’t fg abt me so its not proofread at all🙏🙏 also i feel like smut would be soo good in this story but i have never wrote smut and i dont think i would be good at it sooo🌚 OKAY ENOUGH YAPPING ENJOY THE STORY

-love gab 💋

_______________________________

KK and Paiges laughter filled the room as they were on live interacting with their fans. You were sitting on the couch right beside them watching a movie on your laptop. You and Paige were roommates, but the fans didn’t really know who you were. You made an appearance on one of their lives before and everyone went crazy.

“Y/N they wanna know where you are” Paige says smirking playfully. You laugh, “Im right here.” You wave awkwardly at the camera.

@paigebueckersiswife: shes glowinggg

@kkarnoldfan: PAIGES MYSTERYY ROOMMATEE

“Y/N the fans love youu, come chat!” KK says waving her hands in a ‘come here’ motion. You shrug your shoulders “Why not” You exclaim walking over to sit next to Paige on the couch.

You and Paige were sitting kind of close to eachother but you didn’t even notice. Paige on the other hand was going crazy. She had a crush on you ever since you first moved in with her. She was too scared to admit her feelings for you so she just stayed quiet.

As you were talking to the chat you noticed Paige staring at you in the corner of your eye. Of course this didn’t go unnoticed by the fans and the chat started going crazy.

@uconnwbbfann: did i miss a chapter?..

@ilovemyman: i dont even blame paige

“Okay live we finna hop off! Thanks for tuning in.” KK says in a nerdy voice. She clicks off the live, “Bye P boogers! Bye Y/N!” She says grabbing her things and walking towards the door. “Bye KK” You and Paige say in unison.

“Im gonna get back to my movie now” You announce walking back to your designated spot on the couch. “Can I join you?” You look up at her and smile excited she wanted to spend time with you. You nod and make your way next to Paige. Paige takes notice of you squirming trying to get comfy. “Uh.. if you want you can lay on me.” She suggests. You happily oblige and lay on her lap, “You can pick the movie.”

TIME SKIP

An hour into the movie and Paige could hear your light snores and heavy breathing. She turned off the movie and carefully picked you up and carried you to your bed.

THE NEXT MORNING

The sun peaking from your curtains shone on your face causing you to wake up. You opened your phone to see hundreds of notifications. You unlock your phone and open TikTok to see you were tagged in a video.

The caption on the video read, “are we not gonna talk about paige and y/n on live??” You chuckle lightly at the comment. You continued to scroll on tiktok and see people were already making ship edits of you and Paige. You even found yourself liking and favoriting some.

‘What did I get myself into’ You think to yourself laughing.

[blckbarbiedoll]

Is Somebody Gonna Match My Freak? (Wade Wilson x f!black!reader)

CONTAINS NSFW CONTENT (mentions of oral sex, p in v sex, swearing, Wade in general) probably ooc, cheesy nicknames, wrote this in the middle of the night 😭🙏🏾

based on this post by @megantheestallion-ismypresident

word count: 1.2k

Never in a million years did you expect to be dating a mercenary. More specifically, Deadpool himself. And never in a million years did you expect to find a boyfriend that matched your freak (and stamina).

When Wade learned what you did for a living, he didn’t turn away like past lovers. Instead, he embraced your sexual freeness. Encouraged it even.

“That’s fucking awesome.”

“Really? It doesn’t bother you?”

You both laid under the covers in his bed, a thin layer of sweat on your bodies. He passed a freshly lit blunt to you after taking a puff for himself.

“Baby, I literally crack skulls for a living. I’m not in a position to judge anyone’s occupation here.”

“Guys usually run for the hills when I tell them.”

“Girls usually run for the hills when they find out what I do. Not to mention when I take the mask off. And yet, here you are.” He took the blunt from in between your fingers. “So either you really like me, or you’re just as fucked up as I am, peanut.”

“Both?”

“Both sounds about right.” You both chuckled and kissed each other softly, basking in the afterglow of your pleasure.

Although most of the time you would film alone (which you didn’t mind), Wade would join on occasion. And it seemed that whenever he did, your views skyrocketed. Usually, only his fingers or his dick would make an appearance on your channel. Not only was he a mercenary with too many people out looking for him, but he was convinced that his face wouldn’t appeal to your audience.

“Trust me, babe, this ugly mug is the last thing people wanna see when they’re rubbing one out.”

“Really? ‘Cause your face is the first thing that comes to my mind.”

“You and the readers both.”

“Huh?”

“Huh?”

You and Wade had returned from your weekly date night, which also happened to be one of your filming days. He was about to follow the routine of leaving you to it and going into the living room to wait for you. That was until you called him.

“Wade?”

“Yes, sugar bear?” He stuck his head in the doorway.

“Don’t you wanna join me?” You slowly slipped off the dress that hugged your curves, letting it drop to the floor. The absence of the dress revealed a matching red lace set. “I bought this for you.”

His mouth fell slightly agape at the sight of you. If this was a cartoon, he’d have big heart eyes. “Fuck.” Was all he could say in response.

“Is that a yes?”

“That’s a big fuck yes!” He kicked the door shut as he walked closer to you, lifting his t-shirt off in one swift motion.

“Hold on.” You grabbed your camera and tripod, making sure to set it at the right angle. After checking the video and sound quality, you grabbed Wade’s hand and led him over to the bed.

“Camera’s a little high there. Don’t wanna accidentally catch a glimpse of my face. It’ll crack the lens.”

“Would you stop? You are so fucking hot.”

“Well, that makes one person who thinks so.”

“Babe, I’m serious. I wanna record us for real. And not just one part of you. I wanna be able to look back on a video of us. All of us.”

”It’s that important to you?”

“Yes. And if you really don’t like it, I won’t post it. It’ll be just for us.” You looked up at him with your big brown eyes, practically begging him.

He sighed and scratched the back of his head. “You know I can’t say no to you, chocolate drop.”

“I know.”

“Alright, fine. But you better get my good side.”

And that’s how you found yourself in this position (literally and figuratively). Wade had already eaten you out twice with a blowjob in the middle of each of them. But now, he had you on your back, hips in the air as he ruthlessly thrusted into you.

Almost a hour into recording, you both were in a trance. His large hands held your hips up so he could fuck into you easily. Your leg was thrown over his shoulder, allowing him to hit all the right spots. You gripped onto his toned arms for support, feeling the divets in his skin under your fingers. “So good, baby.” You barely breathed out. He was fucking your brain to mush and he knew it.

“Yeah? You like this dick inside you?” He harshly grunted, not taking his eyes off of you for a second. “You like when I fuck you like this for everyone to see?”

Your nails dug into his skin as you threw your head back against the mattress. “Yes.” It was barely even a whisper, but it was all you could say given your current state.

He moved one of his hands up your leg that was rested against his shoulder. He gripped your ankle and pressed soft kisses against it. “You’re so fucking gorgeous. Gonna make me cum just looking at you.”

"Oh my god." You gasped, feeling your orgasm build with each thrust.

He looked between you and the camera before turning your head to look straight at the lens. "Show everyone how good you can take me."

“Wade.” You whined. “Please.”

“Please what, pretty girl? Tell me what you want.”

“Make me cum. Please?”

There goes those eyes again. The ones that could make Wade do anything and everything you wanted. How could he deny his pretty baby?

"Is that it?" He reached down to circle your aching clit with his thumb. "You wanna cum on my dick?"

"Fuck!" You gasped at the feeling. "Yes!"

He lifted your other leg onto his shoulder and bent down to kiss you. He had you folded like a fucking pretzel and you were loving every second of it.

"Holy shit, baby." He groaned. "I'm fucking close."

"Inside me."

"Yeah? You sure?"

"Please? I wanna feel you fill me up."

"Motherfucker." His grip on your hips was getting tighter, and his thrusts got sloppy. "You're close, aren't you?"

"Mhm."

"I know. I can feel you fucking squeezing me."

"Oh, god." You felt your pleasure building in your lower stomach. Wade continued his movements until you finally finished. "Fuck, Wade!"

"That't it, baby. Cum all around my dick."

His breath hitched in his throat as you felt his hot release fill you up. He waited a few moments before gently sliding out of you and falling down onto the mattress.

"Fuck." You sighed. "That was..."

"Really fucking good."

"Yeah. Really fucking good." You leaned over to grab the camera, pausing the recording. "Ready to see?"

"I guess."

He sat up as you played the video. His face went from a grimace to complete awe. Once he saw the both of you and how your bodies moved together, he was done for.

"So?"

"Can you send that to me?"

You laughed and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "Of course."

"You should peg me."

"I have pegged you."

"On camera."

"Really?"

"Hell yeah."

"The viewers would love that."

"So would the readers."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't worry about it. Go get the strap."

[a-punchline-on-duct-tape]

things i noticed on my re-read:

- ponyboy has “almost—red hair.”

- johnny can’t say “boo to a goose.”

- ponyboy owes johnny 150$ from poker while they were in the church

- just a HILARIOUS quote “sent from heaven? had he gotten a good look at dallas?” ponyboy micheal curtis is hilarious and i don’t wanna hear anything else

- ponyboy isn’t like his parents, but his brothers are

- the curtis and shepard gang have a weird whistle that means “who’s there?” and people don’t talk about it enough

- dally called ponyboy “sleeping beauty.”

- soda’s letter to ponyboy had so many spelling and grammatical mistakes.

- dally had stubble when he went to get ponyboy and johnny “a stubble of colorless beard.”

- johnny’s crazy about drag races.

- dally thinks everything was cherry’s fault.

- dally has a cousin that lives in the area of the church, and told him it’d make a good hiding spot.

- johnny has a “deathly fear of cops.”

- jerry was too fat to climb through the church’s window.

- johnny was having fun in the church.

- soda wouldn’t quit messing with the reporters, he stole their hats and cameras, and even grabbed a cops gun.

- if johnny survived, he would’ve been crippled.

- two-bit’s mom said they should lock the door because of burglars, but darry just flexed his arms in response.

- two-bit was cleaning eggs off the floor after he knocked them off ponyboy’s pan.

- johnny would’ve been charged with manslaughter.

- soda went into darry’s closet to grab his jeans, and steve followed him in. apparently, “in a second, there was the general racket of a pillow fight.”

- two-bit’s mom is just like two-bit, except she isn’t lazy.

- randy’s thinking of leaving town.

- johnny and his mom look exactly the same, with black hair and big black eyes.

- the only difference is johnny has “fearful and sensitive” eyes, while her’s are “cheap and hard.”

- dallas looked out the window instead of at two-bit and ponyboy when he asked about johnny

- cherry had her hair up and she was wearing a ski jacket when she went to go meet the greasers.

- tim shepard has curly black hair and “smoldering” dark-blue eyes. he also has a scar from temple to chin because a “tramp” hit him with a broken soda bottle.

- tim accidentally stepped on ponyboy during the rumble.

- all johnny had ever wanted was for dallas to be proud of him.

- bob had the same smile as soda.

- greasers don’t eat in the school cafeteria.

- curly fell off from a telephone poll and he broke his arm. the face curly made was the same as sodapop’s when darry and ponyboy were fighting.

- when ponyboy wrote his theme, it didn’t hurt to think about johnny and dally.

[coralinnii]

Hi! I saw that you were opening your requests for the next day or so to celebrate getting 2.7k followers! First off, I wanna say congratulations, and may you have a good day/night (almost wrote 'not' lol)!

Anyways, I read your rules, and wondered if I could get a fic with Leona, Vil, Malleus, and Lilia being in a relationship with a Venti! Reader? Essentially, Venti is a Genshin Impact character who plays the lyre, controls the wind, and has a playful personality.

‧₊˚✧ As Free as the Wind ‧₊˚✧

↳ Twst guys with a Venti!reader 

feat: Leona ❋ Vil ❋ Malleus ❋ Lilia  genre: humor, mild fluff note: no pronouns were used with the reader, Venti!reader is of legal age to drink, no spoilers regarding the Genshin Impact storyline, minor spoilers for TWST Book 7

Thank you reading my rules, always appreciate the extra effort people make! I deeply apologize for how late I am with this, but I hope you enjoy the post. Hopefully I captured Venti's personality well enough >_<'

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

Ooff, did he first thought you were a pain in his tail. 

Loud, cheeky, no fear of disturbing anyone for entertainment or favors… at least Ruggie has the decency to be useful. 

He scoffed when you smile and act as if he can’t sense a dangerous well of power within you, the playful persona you present may fool a common man but not Leona.  

He’ll play your game though. There’s no benefit to him to pry into your secrets. He finds this side of you, the one that would play a soft ballad for him for some booze money, much easier to deal with. 

This is a strange relationship, but Leona can respect someone strong and most of all, doesn't tell him what to do. You believe in free will and freedom above else, which Leona appreciates. 

“The concept of one king ruling over all... I can’t say I’m too interested in a land like that.” 

Leona laughed at your boldness. With you, there’s no sense about stuffy responsibilities and obligations. 

There are sweet days where you and Leona would spend the day in the greenhouse, Leona sleeping soundly as you play your lyre while humming your new poems, the wind carrying your melodic voice. 

“Huh, do you have a song for me? Hah, what do you want from me this time? Fine, I’ll let you play.”

Vil immediately clocked something powerful about you, your nonchalant persona is good, but you cannot fool a seasoned actor like him. 

No matter, though. Vil has no interest in delving into someone’s past like that. Vil assumes that if you must act so easy-going yet private about yourself, then he won’t pry into such things. One must have reasons, he supposed. 

However, Vil cannot let go of your pension for the “occasional” drink or two. Vil doesn’t care that you are older than your appearance suggest, alcohol impacts your body and health as you age so he rather you limit that little habit of yours. 

“Come now, Vil. Another bottle wouldn’t hurt~” 

“Hmmph, you don’t have to worry much about yourself when you’re drunk but I most certainly do, especially when you come to me reeking of wine.”

But you always managed to quell his anger by singing ballads and poems about your wonderful beloved Vil. That always lifts the Housewarden’s mood and you end up with a mere reprimanding. Hehe.

Vil will not, however, forgive you so easily if you get too mischievous with him. The beautiful man can respect your talent with wind and currents, but he doesn’t appreciate the gust you would conjure up if it messes up Vil’s appearance too much. 

“Don’t even think about running away from me. I know you were behind the sudden rush of wind, my mischievous one. Acting cute or sweet words is not going to work this time.”

However youthful you may appear, Malleus can sense an old soul within you which feels familiar and powerful. 

Malleus is often surprised by you, for your playful and bold nature while handling the wild winds as skillfully as you hold the lyre. You bear similarities to a certain someone that he can’t help but respect you and hold you to a higher regard than any typical being. 

Malleus doesn’t hate that easygoing personality of yours. On the contrary, he enjoys that spontaneous side of yours as you suggest the strangest of ideas to a powerful figure such as him. 

“Let's go jumping in puddles and see who can make the biggest splash!“

You are a sociable being, making friends so easily that it baffles the young fae. A few cute words from you and it was suddenly so easy to lower one’s guard around you. 

However, when you’re alone and don’t realize his presence, Malleus catches that gleam of loneliness in your eyes as you gaze from your tall resting spot. A look that Malleus feels a kinship with you in that regard.

”You would like to take a stroll with me tonight? Oh, a race in the sky, you say? Very well, but don't be conceited enough to believe I’m so easily bested.”

Dear Sevens, why would you ever let these two chaotic gremlins be in the same vicinity? Do you know no mercy for others?  

The two of you would hit it off so well, it’s almost concerning. Lilia finds you a delight to be around, almost a kindred spirit even. 

“So, you also took care of a dragon long ago.” 

“Yeap, but he sorta became a nation-wide threat when I decided to leave and go off on my own.” 

“Ah yes, those things do tend to happen.” 

(if you can’t tell who’s saying what, that really speaks to how similar a coincidence that was)

Jamming sessions ALL. THE. TIME. The campus has not known a single moment of rest as you display your musical talents in the courtyard while Lilia encourages you all the way, occasionally playing along with an instrument of his own.

Lilia is fascinated by your lyrical retellings of your world and would love to visit this kingdom that values freedom among all else, and of this dandelion wine you speak so lovingly about.

As a man with his own… history, Lilia isn’t the type to ask too much about you if he sees you dodging the question. He can recognize that familiar look of longing and loss, so Lilia doesn’t press further and instead indulge with you in one more glass of bittersweet wine. 

“What tales do you have to regale for tonight? I’m always captivated by these grand adventures of yours, it’s almost tempting for this old soul of mine, hehe.”

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

chapter two:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ warnings: none <3

➴ word count: 2.5k

➴ author’s note: this is pure fluffiness, the calm before the storm, the hughes being the best family in the world and jack making my heart MELT (i literally wrote him). i hope u guys enjoy this too. let me know what u think of this one:))

“AND that, my loves, it’s a wrap on ‘rip to my feelings’!” Grace yelled, and everyone yelled too.

You were in your studio with all of your producers and song-writers, plus Grace, and you had just finished recording the last song on your album.

You were beyond happy. Finishing this meant getting over everything Harris did to you. It was like closure. It was like restarting again.

“Guys, I’m so fucking happy, I love you all so much I could kiss you on the mouth right now,” you said, hugging John— the main producer.

“Don’t think Jack would appreciate that,” Grace mumbled when you hugged her, and you smacked her butt.

Jack.

You had sent him the demo of the album as soon as it was sent to your phone, not really sure why. You just wanted his opinion, that’s all.

Not much fuck buddy of you but whatever!

“Fuck off, Grace Morgan,” you fake whispered, laughing.

You all celebrated and laughed for hours, the time passing quickly whenever you spent it with the people you loved. You were grateful for having so many amazing people in your life, helping you to make your dreams come true.

Your phone rang, and you picked it up, unlocking it and smiling when you saw who had texted: Jack.

It was funny seeing how he complimented you in his own little, weird way. It made your heart beat in the wrong— right— way all over again.

“Did he just ask you on a date?” Grace whispered, probably reading your texts over your shoulder. Everyone else had already left— it was late, after all— and only Grace was left. You were sure she was probably going to sleep at your place anyway.

“I guess? We never just ‘hanged out’ before.” You sighed, replying to Jack’s texts.

“Woah,” she whistled, sitting back on the couch, looking at you funny. “Are you in love?”

“What?” You laughed, locking your phone. “What do you mean, we’ve been fucking for six months only. Chill.”

“Girl, like time matters to you!” She raised her arms. “You fell in love with that piece of shit in like three weeks, imagine with Jack, who fucks you every other week and treats you like you’re the most precious thing ever.”

“Excuse me? Are we talking about the same Jack?” You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Jack doesn’t treat anyone differently. Besides his family, that is.”

“Like the shit he does for you isn’t anything special, right? Like knowing your Five Guys order, or your favorite movies, or how you eat apple pie before your concerts,” she started listing those things on her fingers.

“He doesn’t know those things!” You raised your voice, trying to convince both you and her.

“Girl, I love you but stop playing dumb. He knows and you know he does! Why are you pretending that he doesn’t care about you? He just asked you on a date, for fuck’s sake.” She rolled her eyes.

“First of all,” you started, mentally listing your reasons. “We don’t know if it’s a date. He just said: dinner. He didn’t say ‘I wanna take you out on a date’. Second of all, I’m not denying anything, but I think I would know if I was in love with him, wouldn’t I?”

Actually. The answer was probably no. Harris fucked up your perception of love, and even though it’s been more than a year that you broke up with him, you still feel like you can’t really trust anyone anymore.

So you wouldn’t exactly be able to tell if you are in love or not. At least, you don’t think so.

But talking about love with your fuck buddy? Hell. No.

“You piss me off.” Grace bickered, turning the TV on. “Go change to your little date. I’ll be here, all alone and sad.”

“Pff, shut up. You’re just alone because you and Nico are dumbasses.” You said like it was a matter of fact and left the leaving room, leaving a very pink Grace behind.

Changing didn’t take long, and applying a light makeup didn’t either. You weren’t going to do anything special because, let’s be real, if you and Jack decided to be reckless and fuck somewhere, that makeup wouldn’t last long. So, why bother?

You left your house, saying goodbye to Grace and kissing her cheek. Jack’s fancy ass car was in front of your garage and you smiled, entering it.

“Hi, Jackie boy,” you greeted him, noticing how fucking good he looked, wearing his burgundy suit. Thank god to whoever created the suit rule in hockey. You’ll forever be grateful.

“Hey.” He greeted back, and did something surprising. He kissed you. Softly, and not like any other kiss you’ve shared in the past.

And that didn’t do anything to help the little cardiac arrest you had every time you were around him.

“Are we ready to rock our lasagna?” You asked, half embarrassed and half confused with what you were feeling. Food always made it better though.

“We sure are.” He smiled before starting the car again.

The silence was comfortable but your thoughts were too loud so you took the liberty of turning the radio on, scaring yourself with how loud the music playing was. And, shockingly, your music. Already Over was blasting through the speakers.

You looked at him, and he just shrugged, cheeks red.

“Were you listening to my music on the way to my place?”

“Yeah, why not? It’s good,” he blushes so cutely you find yourself wanting to chomp a piece of his cheek.

“You’re so cute, Jackie. Thanks, means a lot,” you had a feeling you were blushing too, and you thanked God he wasn’t looking at you. “I’m excited to release it.”

“When are you doing it?” He asked, making a U turn.

“Beginning of the next month. Now I have to take pictures and set up the concept for it. It’s my favourite part.”

“Are you doing any music videos with a guy dying?” He asked and you stared at him, once again surprised. Had he been watching your music videos? All of them? “What?”

“Are you a fan?” You giggled, genuinely happy. Harris hated to talk about your work, and he never listened to your songs for more than ten minutes.

“Nico forces us to listen to your songs and watch your music videos,” he answered, nonchalantly. You smiled, nodding your head. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” You played dumb.

“Like that. You have this little minx stare that you do whenever you’re plotting something.” He smiled this time, and God if the sight didn’t make you feel full.

“You’re no fun,” you sighed, looking at the view. “Also, where is this restaurant? We’ve been driving for at least twenty minutes and nothing in Jersey takes more than that.”

“The restaurant is actually my parents’ house.” He says, like it’s nothing.

“What?!” You yelled, turning your head in his direction. “What do you mean you’re taking me to your fucking parents’?”

“Yeah. Ma’s making lasagna for you.”

Your cheeks were burning hot and you had this bubbly feeling inside of you. You were feeling something really weird and you started to wonder if Grace was right and—

“Soph?” You heard his voice, gentle and soft. You looked at him, noticing that he wasn’t driving anymore, and that the car was now parked in front of a big, beautiful, colonial house. His parents’ house. “We can go back if you want to, baby. Ma won’t be angry or anything like that.”

Stop making me want to trust you, Jack.

He caressed your cheek, and you snapped out of it. “No, it’s fine. I just… you could’ve said something, y’know? I’m wearing sweatpants.” You tried to make a joke, smiling. He smiled too.

“I’ll put on some sweatpants too, so we’re matching,”

“Right.”

You left the car, taking a deep breath. It was just his parents. You weren’t even dating so it would be fine.

Wait.

“What did you tell them? That you’re bringing one of the girls you’re fucking home?” You asked just before you walked in their property.

He raised an eyebrow at you, scowling. “First of all, I’m not fucking anyone else. It’s just you. Second of all, I told them I’m bringing a friend.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to do anything else.

He’s not fucking anyone else? Jack Hughes? The man whore of the NJ Devils?

Yikes, sure.

You both walked into the house, Jack not bothering knocking before entering it. A delicious smell of fresh tomato sauce and herbs reached your nose and you could swear your mouth was watering.

“Ma, we’re here!” Jack yelled, making you jump a little bit. You eyed him before facing the woman in front of you, who was absolutely gorgeous. She looked so fucking young and pretty, and you were biting your tongue, trying not to say something stupid. “Hi, Ma, this is Soph. Soph, that’s Ellen, Ma Hughes,”

“Hi, Mrs. Hughes. Nice to meet you.” You said, certain that your cheeks were on flame.

Ellen took a step closer, smiling. “Hi, darlin’. No need for formalities, dear, it’s just Ellen. I would hug you but,” she pointed at her apron and shrugged. “A bit dirty.”

“Thank you for having me.”

“No, thank you for making this guy over here visit me,” she slapped Jack’s shoulder, both of them smiling together. “He only called because he said you wanted to eat lasagna and he loves mine so that’s why he’s here.”

If your face wasn’t going to melt before, it definitely was now. You were going to kill Jack. For real this time.

“Come on, Ma, I can’t be worse than Luke and Quinn. They don’t even remember your address anymore,” was Jack actually pouting? Jesus. Your heart was not ready to see that.

“Stop throwing us under the bus, dickhead.” Luke’s voice was heard and you and Jack both watched as both Quinn and Luke entered the room. “‘Sup, Soph.”

“Hi, Luke. Hi, Quinn,” you greeted them with cheek kisses, not even wanting to acknowledge that you had actually missed them. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, Soph,” Quinn quietly answered, not a single thought behind those eyes. “Great to see you.”

“I hope you’re all hungry because your mom outdid herself tonight,” Jim, the dad, said, smiling when he noticed you. “Hello there. I’m Jim.”

“Hi,” you whispered, mortified with all the attention you were getting. Some would think that performing for big crowds would make you less anxious to meet people. Nope. “I’m Sophia. Thank you for having me.”

“It’s fine, as my baby was saying, we do need our son to visit more.”

As they discussed why Jack didn’t visit them more frequently, you felt Jack’s arms around your waist and his mouth on the tip of your ear. You froze. “Yeah, they call each other baby and honey. Sorry about that.”

You managed to smile, trying not to get his family’s attention. They certainly wouldn’t understand why he was this close to a friend.

“I think it’s cute.”

The dinner went awesomely well. The lasagna was amazing and Ellen and Jim were the cutest couple ever, you could see how they’ve raised three amazing men.

They asked questions about what being a postar meant nowadays, and what was it like during your tours, and how could someone sing and dance at the same time, and have you ever met Adele?

They’re great people. Even Quinn and Luke, who had talked to you before on different occasions, made sure you were included in every topic, and Luke even asked for a signed cap so he could wear it at UMich.

“Do you guys know what we should definitely do?” Ellen started, after forcing all of the boys to organize the kitchen and do the dishes, while you sat with her drinking wine. Yeah, you loved her. “Karaoke. Let Soph here show us how good she is.”

“Maa,” you could hear Luke whining, while running his hands through his beautiful curls. “You do this every time.”

“You’ll make her work on her day off? That’s wild, Ma.” Jack joked, putting his arms around your shoulder. You froze again, looking at the expressions of his family, trying to picture anything out of place.

No one was looking at you weirdly, besides Ellen who plastered the most gorgeous smile you’ve ever seen, which made you smile too.

“I don’t mind singing…” you said, softly.

“Perfect!” Ellen stood up from her seat, pouring more wine on her glass. “Jim, set the karaoke thing on.”

“It’s called YouTube, Ma.” Jack rolled his eyes.

“Leave your mom alone, ugly face,” Jim called him out, on his way to do exactly what Ellen asked. “Sophia, can you sing some Elvis?”

“Yes, ‘course.” You also got up, discussing with Jim which song he wanted you to sing.

“Tell her to sing our song, honey!” Ellen yelled from the dinner table.

“Ah, yes, yes.”

Turns out that their song is Can’t Help Falling in Love, which was so freaking sweet. You sang the romantic lyrics while Jim and Ellen danced with each other, swinging slowly and delicately.

Quinn and Luke were recording themselves with you singing in the background, while you waved happily to the camera.

Jack was sitting on the couch, watching you sing. You could feel his eyes on you, observing your every move, smiling whenever you’d hit a high note or change the song’s rhythm.

It was nice. So, so nice. The Hughes were such nice people and you felt so safe and adored around them. They asked you to sing more songs and when you noticed, you were singing an upbeat song with Jim and dancing between Quinn and Luke while Ellen filmed everything. Until Jack grabbed you again and made you sing in front of him, for him. And boy, how you wanted to kiss him. His blue eyes were shining brightly and he looked just as happy as you felt.

You ended the singing when it was around midnight, everyone exhausted and sweaty— even if it was winter.

You started saying your goodbyes and thanking Ellen and Jim for the best lasagna you’ve ever eaten and for the hospitality too.

“I hope you come back soon.” Ellen whispered in your ear when you were hugging her, and you held her slightly tighter.

When you left the house with Jack, you couldn’t contain your happiness inside you. Grabbing his arm, you pulled him until you were near his car, and standing on your tiptoes, you kissed him.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, both of you moaning inside each other’s mouth. His tongue made its way inside your mouth, pillowy and so soft. You were finally melting into Jack’s arms and nothing could be better.

Until you realized what was going on.

You had just had dinner with Jack’s family, sang and danced with them, and now you were in the middle of the street of a fancy neighborhood, with Jack Hughes holding you close to his chest, while devouring your mouth.

And instead of not feeling anything, instead of keeping things casual, you were feeling everything. Each tiny part of every emotion there is in this world were making their way into your heart and, unfortunately, you didn’t want to take them out.

Because for the first time in more than one year, you wanted to feel.

[ilwonuu]

camping trip?

↬ kim seungmin ( a connection fic to don’t you wanna?)

𓇣 pairing- nonidol!seungmin x fem!reader, established relationship, meandom!seungmin x sub!reader

𓇣 summary- you and your friends are so excited for your camping trip. seungmin can’t seem to keep his mind on camping though,,,

𓇣 warnings- smut with plot, unprotected sex(what can i say? don’t do this!!!!), multiple sex scenes, creampie, kissing, a little impact play(slapping), a little choking, rough sex, seungmin is kinda mean, alcohol consumption( they don’t get drunk), dirty talk(seungminshshhahsgs) , member’s appearances!!!, crack, fluff, kissing, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (m receiving), lmk if i missed something

𓇣 a/n- hi mls<33 if you guys cannot tell im going thru a seungmin era,,, i wrote this last night because i couldn’t stop thinking about it lmfaoo, also this one is so bit longer than usual

you were more than excited for your friend groups yearly camping trip. after,,, your last encounter with seungmin and a couple of the others guys your relationship has changed somewhat.

you and seungmin always liking to have an audience now. but you swore that you would not ruin the camping trip with your loud fucking, minho made you promise

“you guys fuck like rabbits in any environment.” seungmin just laughs. “okay not any environment, but shut up you pervs like listening.” you roll your eyes at their words as you turn to felix and he is also rolling his eyes. smiling when you noticed.

“you like the audience you freak.” jeongin says with a laugh as he turns around to look at you seungmin and felix in the back. “you guys bored? why the long faces.” he questions you three with a teasing tone. “bored wouldn’t be the word i think i am hangry.” felix sighs as he lays back in his seat.

“oh my god me too i will kill someone if i don’t eat soon.” your boyfriend chimes in. “can you guys shut up maybe? so i can listen to the music.” minho scoffs causing you to laugh. “this is a good song.” you say listening to the song that muffled. minho smiles at you through the mirror.

“she’s the only non annoying one.” he focuses back on the road. “definitely not true she is very annoying.” seungmin chimes in. you hit his chest slightly not hurting him. he whines out in fake pain. “annoying and hits me!” you roll you eyes at him looking away.

“you know i’m only kidding baby.” you laugh at him as he touches your side playfully. “okay just shut up for the rest of the ride. we’re almost there chan said to turn at the first turn after the red sign. they are already there.” minho says with a half sigh turning up the music as the resting of you talk quietly among yourselves.

“woah this is camp sight? it’s so nice.” you say as you get out of the car with others. “everyone pick where they want their tent. also figure out who’s sleeping with who.” chan says with a smile as he sees you guys joining the rest of the members.

“okay dad.” hyunjin says with a slight laugh. “this is gonna be a great camping trip!!!” jisung chimes in. “i agree!! i missed all of us together with you y/n.” seungmin admits with a smile.

“what happened to my rude boyfriend? why are you being cute i don’t like it.” you smile at him and he just rolls his eyes pulling you to hug him. “i’ll be rude later.” he whispers to you with an innocent expression.

“they are already plotting!” changbin points at you two playfully. “as long as i don’t hear anything then its fine.” minho says with a smile. “jisung come here you’re sharing a tent with me.” han nods grabbing the tent walking over to the spot him and lee know chose. “i know who i’m sharing with.” seungmin states the obvious as you two try to put up the tent together.

“i think we might be the worst people to put a tent together.” you laugh at the two of your poor tent building skills. “well you’re definitely worse than me but yea.” he turns his attention back to his side trying to figure where the poles go. “i got it!” you smile as you see your side standing on its own. he stares at you blankly. “fucking how? help me.” he scoffs in disbelief.

“i thought i was worse than you at putting it together?” you tease walking over to his side. he looks so cute with his hoodie over his head. “yea yea you’re not just help me.” he says looking at you for a second. “what?” you question his interesting gaze.

“i just can’t wait until we have this built so i can fuck you.” you gasp at his words and his bold expression. “seungmin stop we can’t. you know i can’t be that quiet.” you blush looking away from him embarrassed by your own words.

“yea i know baby, just gonna have to find something to shut you up huh?” he whispers into your ear as he pulls you closer to him. you can feel his half hard dick poking at you stomach. “seungmin.” you try to look at him with an intimidating expression but it didn’t really work. he just smiled at your face.

“what is my pretty little slut getting wet thinking about it?” you roll your eyes pushing him back gently. “we need to build the tent.” you bend over to grab the poles trying to show him which way they go but he doesn’t look very focused.

“seungmin are you even listening? i just showed you how to do it now do it.” he shakes his head. “i was not looking at that damn tent i was looking at you. but show me again because i want it built.” he smiles innocently.

“okay actually watch this time idiot!” he nods. you show him and he quickly figures it out. being the first ones to finish building your tent. “let’s put our stuff inside.” you smile walking to the car hand and hand. “how did you guys figure it out?” hyunjin and chan question as they stand next the the tent that is far from being built.

“babe go help them let me get the stuff out of the car.” he suggests and you nod running over to the two boys. you show the boys how to do it and they thank you. you joining seungmin in the tent you two shared after he was done grabbing the stuff. “it’s very spacious in here.” he smiles at you before pulling you to lay against his chest. “we all know why you think that’s important.”

you hear someone shout for the two of you outside the tent. “hey we’re going to the store to grab dinner! the nearest store is like 30 mins away so we might be a couple hours!” chan says as him. seungmin yells a quick okay and the other boys leave.

“i’m so happy we weren’t put on grocery shopping duty.” you sigh against him. “yea me too i would be so mad if i have to grocery shop on vacation.” seungmin says with a smirk that you can’t see. his hand moving to your thigh slowly.

“minnie what are you doing.” you smile turning to face him. “gotta see how i can keep you quiet. we’re gonna see how well you can do yea? if you’re quieter ill reward you. but if you’re bad i’m gonna fuck you so hard that you will have no way to hide your noises. deal baby?” you nod.

“im gonna try really hard to be quiet.” you say biting your lip a little. “good girl. such a good slut for me aren’t you?”

what seungmin didn’t mention is how long you guys would be doing this for. the boys have been gone for an hour now but you and seungmin are still touching on each other. he has you on your stomach as he fucks you from behind the new position catching you off guard.

“m-minnie! o-oh please don’t stop.” he just smirks. “yeah? gonna be bad huh? you sure thats a good idea baby?” you shake your head no shutting yourself up.

“good fucking girl.” he slides two of his fingers into your mouth. his hips slowing to fuck you deeper. he pulls out of you without warning, flipping you over. he pulls his fingers out of your mouth bringing them down to your cunt.

“if i kiss you will you be quiet?” he asks as he pushes the fingers inside you roughly fucking them in and out. the squelch noise is so loud from your arousal and how close you are to coming.

“p-please kiss me.” he smiles rubbing your cheek gently. “such a good little toy.” he leans down to kiss you as he continues to finger you. your legs start to shake at the overstimulation as his finger curl deeper.

“s—mminnie.” you moan through the kiss quietly. “you gonna cum slut? want me to lick it all up after huh? you taste so fucking good.” he send a small smack against your face to see how you react. the two of you talking about having impact in your sex someday. but he never acted on it but you wanted him to. you moan on the spot when the pressure stung against your cheek.

“you like it that much baby? you just got so fucking tight. such a slut, dirty girl likes when i hit her?” you nod as your legs shake. you try to close them but seungmin does not let you.

“m-minnie- too much.” your eyes roll back into your head. “is it? you cunt doesn’t want my fingers to leave though. you’re so close to coming i know you are baby. don’t fight it. it will feel so good. my little slut coming on my fingers. my dick is so hard.” you moan one last time before coming all over his fingers. he doesn’t stop his movements though.

“fuck i just want to ruin you. but it will be better if the guys hear how much of a slut you are when i fuck you. not like they don’t already know.” he finally pulls his fingers out of you.

“open your fucking mouth.” he watches you open your mouth slowly. he smiles pushing his fingers into your mouth. “fucking suck them clean slut.” he watches as you obey his wishes. making eye contact as you suck on them like you’re going down on him.

“fuck i need to taste you.” you don’t know how he moves so quickly. getting in between your legs. licking up your cum and some of his own from earlier.

“so fucking good.” he pulls away grabbing a hold of your neck applying slight pressure as he pulls you to make out with him. you moan into the kiss as you two stay like that for a couple minutes before you hear the cars return.

“we’re back you guys better not be fucking in there!” minho says playfully as you seungmin separate. “not fucking you idiot.” seungmin says to the boy through the tent.

“you never know what you two are doing.” han says through the tent as well. you and seungmin just roll your eyes as you quietly get dressed. “come out here to help with dinner. we all agreed.” chan says to you two. causing you to have to physically drag seungmin out of the tent.

“i’m not even a good cook you guys don’t need me.”seungmin sighs with a fake pout. chan tsks. “okay whatever you say! then go find some extra wood for the fire. we need to have plenty.” he sighs dramatically walking away to get the wood as you and the rest of start to help on dinner.

after the dinner the nine of you gathered around the fire for a light drink. “this drink is good minho! what did you mix it with?” you question taking another sip as you are hugging seungmin in his chair.

“i honestly don’t remember but it’s tequila and a soda and something else idek me and han made it while we were drunk.” he shrugs taking a seat next to the boy he mentioned.

“i think it’s s’mores time what do you guys think?” changbin says with a smile. “you read my mind.” hyunjin says as him & changbin practically jump for the s’mores ingredients. felix following behind the boys.

“why am i friends with idiots?” seungmin thinks out loud receiving a “hey!” from them both. each of you quickly getting your own s’mores of course. you look over at you boy with a soft smile.

“you have marshmallow on your lips.” you say pointing to where it was. “get it off?” he asks you. to others they may think he just wants you to wipe it off with a napkin or something. but seungmin kinda,, loves when you kiss him to get something off his face. he always does the same to you. he loves a good reason to kiss you. you nod hesitantly as you pull him into a kiss. neither of your pulling away after the marshmallow was gone.

“you guys are like horny teens.” jeongin says rolling his eyes. “do i need to remind you that you were on the call the other day?” he says at the boy with a smirk.

“t-that’s different i wasn’t watching-“ hyunjin and chan now thinking about the events that occurred the other day. “oh but i bet you wish you were.” he says with a sarcastic tone. “seungmin- stop teasing him! we don’t need to talk about that.” he rolls his eyes.

“i know you like it.” he says rubbing your cheek a little, remembering where he hit earlier.

“on that thought it’s my bed time! good fucking night.” chan laughs at them before going into his tent. after he left you guys stayed chatting for another half an hour , before you all said your goodnights heading into your own tents.

i don’t think you and seungmin have gotten naked so quick. him kissing you quietly as you two grind against each other. the two of you trying to be quiet but you let a moan slip when he pulls you on top of him.

“fucking slut you know you need to be quiet. you don’t know how to listen? i know how to shut you up. put that slutty mouth to use other than to babble nonsense yea?” he smirks as you crawl off his hips down to his dick. you stroke it a couple times watching his reaction.

“f-fuck spit on it-“ you cut him off by doing exactly what he wants. you spit on it as you make eye contact. you take his tip into your mouth. he hisses at the contact trying to stop his moans.

“fu-fuck you’re so good at this. i forget every- fuck every time. how can i? feels so fucking good.” he says as quietly as he can. you continue to bob your head on him until he stops you. pulling you off him. “i want to cum inside my good slut. you want that too hm?” he pulls you up more so that your faces are close. he kisses your lips gently.

“y-yes minnie want you-“ he smirks kissing you again. “lay on your back.” he says demandingly. you quickly comply getting on your back. “you think you’re gonna be quiet? like earlier remember.” he kisses your lips again as he lines up with your entrance. you nod quickly as you look in between your legs.

“such a good little fuck toy for me aren’t you? say it slut.” he grabs your face as he pushes into you. you immediately try to stop your moan by covering your mouth with you hand. “no no- fucking say it first or i will stop.” he pulls your hand off your mouth as he stops his hips.

“m-minnie- please move- i need-“ he lands a slap against your cheek before rubbing his hand over it. “what did i fucking say?” he knows you like it rougher but he can’t help but feel a little bad after he sees your red cheek. “i am your fuck t-toy min please!” you trying to grind into him but he stopped your hips quickly.

“oh you want to act like that? so needy aren’t you? i’ll give it to you until you’re begging me to stop. gonna fuck this cunt until you cry baby?” he starts to move his hips. you moan but it’s cut off with another slap but against your thigh this time.

“shut the fuck up.” he looks at you sternly as he covers your mouth. “you are such a good girl you know that? even when you’re being all bad. not listening to me? i’ll give you what you fucking want.” his hips speed against yours. your moans being muffled by his hand.

“you like this slut?” he questions already knowing you will not be able to answer. causing you to send another moan into his hand. “f-fuck i don’t even care anymore. need to fuck you perfectly.” he pulls his hand off your mouth. your moans filling the tent and area around it.

“m-minnie- so big. please deeper!” you cry out for him as a tear falls from your eye. “deeper? don’t you think i’m fucking you deep already?” he slows down to fuck you harder and deeper.

“f-fuck i’m gonna cum.” you now sobbing for him. he just thinks you look so fucking pretty like this. your cheeks red from the slaps, your mascara that you were wearing now ruined. you have dried spit on your chin. he loves when it looks like he ruined you.

“yea? cum like a good girl. i’m close too baby.” you moan at his words. “p-please cum in me.” you say with a whimper and that just boosts your boyfriends ego even more. “you want it baby? fuck my cum into you. you love when i fuck you like a whore.” your legs start to shake as you approach your high. seungmin holding your hips to fuck into you at the perfect angle.

“fuck! im coming minnie-“ you sigh out of relief as you feel your release wash over you. your clench around your boyfriend with a moan. that’s all it took to have him coming aswell. him fucking you nice and slow so that his cum gets deeper.

“fu-fuck you did so well for me.” he pulls out of you slowly not wanting it to drip out of you instantly. “fuck let me get a towel.” he says leaning behind him to reach into his bag. grabbing the towel and cleaning you up. you hear some movement outside the tent causing you two to look at each other in fear.

“kim seungmin. i’m gonna fucking kill you.” is all you hear from minho. you sighing in relief that its just minho. his remarks causing seungmin to laugh. “if you had a girlfriend as hot as mine. i swear you wouldn’t be able to stop either.” he admits with a shout to the boy outside.

“shut up! i’m going to sleep. be quiet or i will come in there and drag you out and throw you in the river.” he hits the tent as if its threat causing you to laugh now.

“sorry minho.” you mumble through the tent. “no sorries! let me sleep.” he sighs running back to his tent. minho knows that the next few days are gonna be long.

[levandright]

omg the no doubt mv STILL has me in a chokehold so can I request high school students boxer!fem!reader x boxer!jay who train together? it can be fluff/angst, whichever you wanna do 😚

𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒

pairings : boxer!jay x boxer!reader ♠ content / warning(s) : fluff, jay gets into a fight, yn treats his injuries, highschool au, flirting ♠ word count : 0.7k ・ archive

synopsis. when jay comes to train in the boxing club injured, you can't help but worry about him. jay keeps getting himself into fights more often these days. maybe this is the day you'll know the reason why.

ᐢ..ᐢ lev notes : idk anything about boxing so this will not be accurate at all, but fuck it we ball! i would have loved to make this angst but i legit couldn't think of a way when i wrote this so fluff it is. also long time no post ehe, life got a lil too busy i'll admit...

the thud of your fists against the heavy bag fills the empty gym. the quiet echo of your movements keeps you company as you cycle through your drills, waiting for jay to show up. he’s usually on time—but today, the minutes are dragging.

you’re midway through another combination when the door creaks open. you glance over your shoulder, lowering your fists just as jay walks in.

“finally,” you let out a sigh, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat off your face. “you’re late. did you forget about training or something?”

jay offers a lopsided grin as he drops his bag by the wall. “got held up.”

you’re about to say a snarky comeback, but then you notice it. his face. there’s a faint bruise blooming along his jawline, and a small cut just beneath his lip.

your brows knit together. “jay… you didn't get into another fight again, did you?”

he waves a dismissive hand, already unzipping his jacket. “it’s nothing. don’t worry about it.”

you narrow your eyes, unconvinced, but he doesn’t give you a chance to press him further. “come on,” he says, grabbing his gloves. “let’s get started.”

reluctantly, you let it go—for now. “alright,” you mutter, tossing him his hand wraps. “but you’re not getting out of drills just because you’re late.”

jay smirks faintly as he wraps his hands. “wouldn’t dream of it.”

the two of you fall into your usual rhythm, working through combinations and counter moves. but something feels… off. jay’s movements are slower, stiffer than usual. he’s still good—he always is—but there’s a tension in the way he moves that you can’t ignore.

it’s during a sparring round that it happens. you aim a jab toward his midsection, and though he blocks it, your fist still grazes his side.

jay winces.

it’s quick—barely a flinch—but you catch it. you lower your gloves, stepping back. “jay.”

“it’s nothing,” he says quickly, but the slight hitch in his voice betrays him.

you narrow your eyes, piecing it together. the bruises, the stiffness, the wince. “you got into a fight again, didn’t you?”

jay sighs, tugging off his gloves. he doesn’t meet your gaze. “maybe.”

your lips press into a thin line, equal parts annoyed and worried. “you’re unbelievable. sit down.”

“what? i’m fine—”

“sit. down.” your tone leaves no room for argument.

jay mutters something under his breath but does as you say, plopping down on the bench. you grab the first aid kit from the corner and kneel in front of him.

“you’re lucky it’s just bruises,” you say, dampening a cotton swab with alcohol. “next time, try not to pick fights with people who can actually land a hit., better yet. stop getting into fights at all.”

jay snorts softly but doesn’t argue. he stays unusually quiet as you start cleaning the cut on his lip, only wincing when the alcohol stings.

“seriously, though,” you continue, dabbing at the wound. “what’s going on with you? you’ve been getting into fights a lot lately.”

still no answer. frowning, you glance up—and your breath catches.

jay is staring at you, his dark eyes locked on yours. the intensity of his gaze makes your cheeks flush, but you refuse to let it show.

“what?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“nothing,” he says, the corner of his lips twitching into a smirk.

you roll your eyes, brushing it off. “well stop it. you’re being weird.”

“i’m not,” he counters smoothly. “just… thinking.”

“about?” you ask, focusing on his bruised cheek as you dab at it.

“you,” he says simply, and the way his voice dips slightly makes your hand freeze for half a second.

you feel your cheeks get warm, but you quickly recover, forcing a teasing smile. “thinking about how i’m the one keeping you in one piece, i bet.”

jay chuckles, his smirk widening. “more like thinking about how cute you look when you’re bossing me around.”

your eyes snap to his, heat rushing to your face. “you’re impossible,” you mutter, shoving the first aid kit aside as you finish up.

jay leans back, still grinning, and you hate how effortlessly smug he looks. “i mean it, though,” he says, his voice softer now. “thanks.”

you stand up, crossing your arms to hide how flustered you are. “yeah well, try not to make it a habit. you’re not gonna have me patching you up forever, y’know.”

“we’ll see,” he says with a wink, and you have to turn away before he sees the small, begrudging smile tugging at your lips.

taglist. @dazzlingjaeyun @honeychocos @manaah02 @kozumesphone

[grapejuicebrat]

because i liked a boy

PAIRING: dark!rafe cameron x reader

SUMMARY: you thought dating rafe was hard. but breaking up was much worse.

WARNINGS: language, death treats, angst, abusive relationship, happy or not happy ending is up to you.

WORD COUNT: 1176

my masterlist

breaking up with rafe was hard. first of all because it was your idea. you wanted to move on. rafe was happy just where he was. you wanna know what it was? somewhere in the middle of your relationship, when his true colours started to show and hurt, you fell out of love with him and started creating this sort of fantasy in your mind of who you hoped he would eventually become for you and fell in love with that. needless to say, you learned the hard way that people don't become who you want them to, if that's not who they want to be. that’s why you were with rafe for more than 3 years. you wanted to believe that he would change for you but in fact he changed you.

in the beginning of your relationship it was all so innocent. rafe gave you all his attention, every evening you went out on some fancy dinner. daily calls and texts - everything felt like some sort of fairytale. you felt like a princess. you were finally in healthy relationship.

tanneyhill was your second home. you stayed here for a night more often than at your own house but your parents were okay with that. you were safe with your boyfriend, so everything was alright.

you knew from the beginning that rafe uses coke. but again, you closed your eyes and pretended that everything is okay. rafe knows what he is doing. he is older, he is smarter. he makes money so you can relax and don’t have to think about anything. it didn’t effect your relationship, rafe knew how to combine his business and private life. at first that’s how it was.

and than everything changed. step by step. slowly. so you didn’t notice at first.

sometimes he would shout at you. and than rafe would come to you and hug you tightly. he would say that he is sorry and it’s just emotions. of course you forgave me. you believed him. you loved him.

than he wouldn’t even tell you that he is sorry. he shouts at you even when you’re not guilty, but it’s okay. he is just a human who has emotions. you would be okay with that. you would just go to your room or if rafe tells you to leave you just silently leave. and than come back if rafe says so.

two weeks later and you have a bruise on your neck. of course it wasn’t okay but every time you tried to find some shitty excuse like work is stressing him or it was your fault.

of course you understand that it is not okay. and you need to do something about that. you wrote some notes, mentally preparing for some conversation with rafe. you wanted this relationship to work. because you loved rafe and he loved you. maybe. the thing is every time he came home, you were afraid to tell him something, he wouldn’t be happy with. you didn’t know what is coming next.

rafe could easily call you a slut or would tell you that he wanted to fuck another girl but remembered that you’re waiting for him at home. so you need to be thankful for him keeping his dick in his pants. and you know what’s funny? you thanked him for this.

love made you blind. you were thankful for him just coming home. and you were thankful for him not fucking another girl.

you had to get over the fact that you would probably never get an apology from him because in his twisted mind... he'd done absolutely nothing wrong.

you kept running back into his arms because you're settling for what's familiar. you kept holding on, hoping that there's still something there. you missed him because he's all that you know. he's all you're used to... but he's also the reason you kept putting your life on hold. have you ever thought that maybe if you actually let him go, you would finally be able to breathe again?

rafe was asleep and you were crying by his side. part of you wanted him to hear your cries and he would wake up. he would hug you and tell you that everything will be alright. other part wanted to just disappear. you wanted to be all by yourself without those arguments, without those problems.

maybe you are his favorite. so he says. but how many times has he made you feel alone. how many times has he filled your heart with anger and sorrow. how many times have you felt the bitterness. the emptiness. the endless void that leads to nowhere.

the truth is. he is a broken man. and honestly, you're not meant to fix him. you’re not meant to save him. change him or even force him to get his shit together. no. if he doesn't want those things for himself to begin with, then why should you exhaust yourself trying to help him. you can't make someone care. you’re not his mother. and your love is not meant to be drained by redirecting careless grown men towards their glory. you’re better than that. you have your own problems to deal with. and honestly, you have better shit to do.

that’s what you were thinking about months later. that’s what you were thinking about when you were breaking up with rafe. because if you don’t do that now it will be harder to do this later. maybe even unreal.

“rafe, we’re over”

back to these days, if you knew everything will be like this, you would never break up with rafe. never.

dating him was bad, but break up was worse. rafe always kept an eye on you. not in a sweet way, course no. in a creepy way, like joe goldberg and i mean it. every guy who you ever talked to was missing now. you never met them twice. all because rafe saw them as a danger.

in the beginning he sent you flowers. beautiful, bigger than your whole body bouquets. rafe would go to your house and beg on his knees so you come back to him. of course you wanted to give in and give him a second chance. but in fact you gave him so many chances during your relationship so it wouldn’t be even close to a second chance.

a week later you would receive texts with death threats and something about you being a fucking pussy. you understood that he won’t change. never. rafe would pretend that he is getting better but in fact he’ll be the same old rafe. toxic, dark, manipulative. this relationship would never work.

by now you’re sure you two just weren’t meant to be.

you: I stayed with you for so long throughout the bullshit because I was torn between not giving up on the person that I loved, and coming to terms with fact that the person that I loved no longer existed inside of the body that I was staring at every day; and I don't give a fuck what anyone says... that's a really difficult and painful thing to wrap your brain around. It takes a while to believe it.

rafe: fuck you. you’re just a fucking pussy. can’t even admit that you never loved me.

and he has no idea how wrong he is. you were ready to break yourself for him. that’s how much you loved this man.

if you would like to be added to my taglist leave a comment or let me know by sending me in my ask!

[bbyboybucket]

So I wrote up all this stuff weeks ago and drafted it and forgot about it until I seen these tags from @kahuna-burger

And they are absolutely right. And I’m so glad someone agrees with me on this analogy, because this is EXACTLY how I see him, and exactly what I get into below. This is the whole thing I was writing up previously:

“The winter soldier was treated like a living weapon.”

Mmm, yes. The whole living weapon thing is not a wrong metaphor. But I’d argue that there’s something else far more accurate (aka what the now added tags say).

He wasn’t their weapon. He was their dog. In such an uncanny way, almost literal sense. I wouldn’t even say a guard dog, I’d actually say he was Hydra’s hunting dog.

I mean think about it. Really. They actually treated him like a dog.

He wears a harness. He wears a fucking muzzle for gods sake.

But that’s just the bare minimum of similarities.

What do they do when he gets out of line? To punish him, to put make him obey and learn to fall back into good behavior? They shock him. Just like how people have always used shock collars and electric fences for dogs. When he’s been “bad”, when he does something he’s not supposed to, he gets shocked to correct that behavior.

They also smack him and get physical. People don’t do that with weapons. There’s no point in that. And you wouldn’t wanna damage or harm a weapon. But people do smack dogs. They hit their dogs when they don’t behave or do something wrong because harm, pain, and damage will teach it. Just like it teaches him. And they’ll heal so it’s not a concern.

He was trained to obey commands. Just like dogs. He does any little thing he’s told because he’s conditioned with a rewards system. He even has specific command words that trigger compliance. Just like you teach a dog to sit or roll over with trigger words, he has em too. I mean literally, he has a Pavlovian response to said words. And what was the original Pavlov experiment done on? A dog. The only difference is he doesn’t get physical treats. His treat is praise, which they manipulated him into being desperate for. They even go as far to incentivize him with this praise (think about the bank scene, where Pierce praises him), just like you would present a dog with a treat when you want it to do a trick. Hell, actually praise is a way you reward dogs too, because they listen and learn when you tell them they’re a “good boy, good dog”.

Hydra asserts their dominance over him just in case he turns on them, just to remind of who’s the “alpha”. Because they know (just like big dog owners) that he can tear them up, he can attack and shred them to pieces, but if he thinks he’s not the “alpha” then he’ll back down.

And yeah, he’s protective and reliant on his “owners” like most dogs would be. But like I said, not just a guard dog. A hunting dog. Because just like people teach their dogs to track down and go after bears, squirrels, dear, etc. he was also taught how to track down stuff to kill. Stuff that his owner wanted dead. That’s his whole purpose, to hunt for them.

Also, think about how Hydra obtained him. It’s like if a person saw an injured dog in a ditch, brought it to a vet to heal up, then took it home to have as their own pet. Because that’s exactly what they did with him. It’s just the owner was an abusive one.

He wasn’t treated like some expensive tank or powerful arsenal of guns. He was treated like well trained hunting dog.

[mydarlingclaudia]

she’s demonic and bloody, but she holds me tight

note : divider is from @/cafekitsune. this fix does have dark content in it if you don’t wanna read I understand <3 I also wrote this based off the song In My Room by Insane Clown Posse. I also got kinda in the flow when I was writing this idk if it really fits the song but I like how this turned out but the end is like really really rushed bc I didn’t know what to do :)

wc : 2.9k

tags : @withonly-sweetheart @rigorwhoring @cigarett3wif3 @bonesnplywood

desc : a college kid with a social life that's almost non-existent figures the dead girl that comes to his room every night is his girlfriend, some say that's a bad thing, he says it's everything he could wish for. who cares, anyway? it's not hurting anyone! well, not yet, at least. there's an endless list of things he'd do for you, you don't even have to ask. but why won't you come back after he takes care of a problem that would have torn you away from him? you love him, right? not-really established relationship (idk how to explain it), a bit suggestive, Leon is kinda gross, necrophilia, gore, au, fem!reader, re2r!Leon

back to the party <3

“You gonna let me in…?” Your voice is muffled from the glass pane of Leon’s window, chipped fingernails tapping against the surface. Of course he’s gonna let you in, when was the last time he had ignored you? You’ve completely fucked over his sleep schedule, you’re too good to turn down.

He’s lucky that he has the whole house to himself, it’s been like this since he started college, even if anyone is there, you’re always quiet. Leon was lucky enough to have some rich uncle that pitied him after the death of his parents and gifted his summer house to Leon so he could stay there for college. He doesn’t talk to a lot of people, he’s got a few friends around campus and he tutors the kid next door, but outside of that he’s alone, no one comes over outside of family.

You came along about halfway through his sophomore year of college, he was scared of you at first, who wouldn’t be scared when you wake up to a corpse knocking on your window? But he gave you a chance, best decision he’s made in years.

You… were something special. Not a zombie, Leon’s sure you would’ve cracked his skull open and torn his brain apart with your teeth by now if you were, he would’ve let you.

You poor thing, your boyfriend killed you when you tried to break up with him in your senior year of college, Leon must’ve been seventeen when it happened, it had been all over the news. Leon’s not sure why you came to him, you never told him, there are a lot of things you don’t tell him, he’s not sure where you go when the sun rises, either. But you’re the best part of his days, the lamp in his room is always on at night just so you know he’s home. He hasn’t even gone out to any parties because he doesn’t want to miss a visit from you, hardly even stays out past ten if he ever does manage to get out of the house.

“Leon, I can see you.” Your voice is a bit harsher, your palm comes down against his window and Leon finally tears himself from his homework, spinning around in his chair to smile at you.

He stands from his chair and takes a few steps to his window, it’s never locked, it doesn’t even have the screen anymore, he just has to open it for you.

“Hey, sweetheart.” The smile that immediately blooms on your face makes his whole month, Leon offers his hand out to you to help you climb into his room, your rough, cold palm slides against his, you stumble slightly. Leon’s hands soon find their way to your sides, his face almost hurts from how much he’s grinning.

“Hey,” Your voice is always raspy, it’s prettier than any song he’s ever heard. You always wrap your arms around him when he welcomes you in, this time is no different, one of his hands take place on your lower back, the other on the back of your neck over your matted hair.

“It’s cold out, do you want a sweatshirt?” He knows you don’t need one, but he’s been dying to see you in one of his favorite hoodies, he doesn’t even care if you get dirt all over it. You just shake your head and bury your face in the crook of his neck, he chuckles. “I gotta do some homework, do you want to sit with me?” You nod again and unravel your arms from around him, he pulls up his chair again to sit and pull you down onto his lap.

You love this, you crave this, found a way to weasel your way into this life even after death. You really weren’t trying to go for Leon, the night you emerged from your grave you just stumbled down the street, looking for a light in the window, you don’t know why. The only light on had been Leon’s, he was pretty enough, at least he didn’t call the cops when you climbed up the tree in front of his window and started knocking.

He loves you, you know it. You don’t know how or why, but God, do you love this feeling. You’re able to pretend for a few hours that you’re back to being a normal college girl, that your blood still runs through your veins and your boyfriend didn’t go nuts and stab you. You love him too, you guess.

You even help him with homework and projects sometimes since you took those same classes, you always hated it when you were in school, but you had a cheat sheet for half the shit Leon brings back from class in the back of you brain, why are you even able to remember that? Leon always holds you as close as possible, you're not really sure how he can stomach having you so close all the time, you knew he'd have you naked more often than not if you would let him see you like that, the closest he's even gotten to seeing you like that is when you took off your dress so he could stitch up the re-opening stab wounds that were scattered across your abdomen.

But he loves it, for some reason. He doesn't mind how rough your skin feels and how tight it is against your rotting muscles, doesn't get weirded out when he plucks a bug from your hair, somehow Leon loves when the two of you make out.

It’s a win-win, Leon gets you, you get Leon. He buys you cute things, short skirts, pretty tops, you play dress up for a few hours before you pull the blue dress you were buried in back on and leave for the day, just to come back and do it again the next night. He’s got a dresser drawer full of girly clothes that you only wear sometimes, he’s lucky he never has friends over.

Don’t even mentions the hickeys he lets you leave on his neck, those are the things his friends see and tease him about, interrogating him about who his secret girlfriend is. You don’t think he minds, he’s never complained when you sink your teeth into his throat and suck and bite until the blood vessels under his skin start to pop. Leon does the same to you, anyway, it’s only fair.

Leon doesn’t like when you’re in the house but not with him, if you get up to go wash the dirt off your skin in the shower, he trails after you and sits on the sinks countertop until you’re done. He’d join you if you let him.

Leon will never tell you this or even ask, but he wonders if you died a virgin. I mean, there’s no way, right? You were so pretty, alive or dead, he’d be lying if he said that he never thought about having sex with you. Who wouldn’t think about that? Theres no judgement from him if you’re a virgin or not, but maybe one day you’ll take his virginity. Maybe? He’ll take the dry humping for now and keep his hopes up.

Outside of wanting to have sex with you, Leon loves to hold you. You fit on his lap perfectly and your face always finds a way to the nape of his neck, you always cling to him like your limbs are still stiff and tight from rigor mortis and you’ll take him back to your grave with you.

—

You’re back again, shocking. Leon’s got you on his lap with your chest pressed to his, his fingers dig into the cold flesh of your thighs to slowly rock you against him as you nip at his lips whenever you pull away from one of your heated kisses, barely giving him time to breathe.

You have to leave soon and Leon has to start his day, the most sleep he gets is four or five hours the second he gets back from school, you come around midnight, who needs sunlight? He doesn’t spend most of his days out and you never do, Leon could live in total darkness and be fine with it so long as you stay.

Leon’s shaking a tiny bit underneath you, it’s always like this when you slip your tongue a bit further past his lips, you can’t taste anything but Leon loves the way you taste, good thing he’s not vegan. Though, Leon can’t really focus on kissing you back, you feel more tense than normal, your voice sounds choked when you talk now.

Reluctantly, he pulls away from you and you huff. Leon’s hands instead move up to your hips, stopping his rocking.

“You okay?” You nod.

You’re not really okay, you were trying to avoid Leon asking you this because you knew he’d react badly. The kid he tutors next door saw you walk down the street, you even fucking made eye contact with the kid and kept walking until you were at the tree in Leon’s yard. You didn’t know if he was gonna tell anyone or just try to ignore you, play it off as a drunk girl not knowing what she’s doing. But you knew he’d tell Leon the next day, Leon always told you the kid liked to gossip. Even if the kid didn’t talk, you probably shouldn’t come back, at least for a little while.

“Sweetheart,” His hands squeeze your hips, you sigh and sit up straight. “What’s wrong?”

“I- that uhm, the kid next door… H-he saw me.” Leon’s eyes widen and his hands grip you harder, it doesn’t hurt but you feel his fingernails dig into your skin.

“What?” You’ve never heard his voice so flat, you chew on your bottom lip and look away from him. “He saw you?”

“Leon, he knows.”

“What? He can’t know, it’s not like… It’s not like it’s obvious that you’re dead.”

“Leon, be serious, it’s weird enough to see someone stumbling into your neighbors yard in the dark, but when they look like they’re fucking dead then that’s something else.”

“Baby-“

“He’s gonna tell someone.”

“He won’t,” A dry, humorless chuckle comes from his mouth, he shakes his head. “He’s not gonna care, the worst that’s gonna happen is he’s gonna tease me.”

“Yeah? What if he tells his parents? What if he tells his friends? Then what? He’s like, what, twenty? He doesn’t care if you ask him not to talk about it.”

“We’re gonna be fine,” His hand comes up to your face, brushing over your bottom lip and pulling you back down to his slowly. “Why would he give a shit?”

“I’m not gonna come back for while.” You announce, stopping a few inches from his face. You don’t want to talk about this anymore, you just need to do your own thing, you have all the time in the world to wait and let this simmer down. If Leon loves you, then he’ll wait, too.

“What?!” Leon bolts up, pushing you up with him. “No, no, no, no, you don’t gotta like, leave leave, okay? I’ll- I’ll take care of it, I’ll talk to him. Baby, please.”

“I don’t know, Leon.”

“We’re gonna be alright, I promise.” He kisses you again and your shoulders tense. “Okay?”

“… The sun will be up soon.” You mumble, leaning back from him.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” He sighs and runs his hands along your arms, looking over your face to try and determine what you’re thinking. “I love you.”

“Love you,” You mumble again before you stand from his bed and make your way back out his bedroom window, you glance back at him, he’s smiling, somehow.

Once you’re gone, though, Leon flops back against his bed, his hands coming to his hair to pull at the soft strands, he's never been so nervous in his life.

“Fuck.”

—

Leon’s not proud of what he’s done, but he did it for you, so it’s not bad, right?

He really did mean to just talk things out, tell his neighbor that you’re his girlfriend and that you come up through the tree in front of his room because it’s faster.

But the kid had already told his parents, thankfully none of his friends, though. Leon didn’t know what to do, because soon the neighbors would tell his uncle and then he’d start asking questions, and then eventually his neighbor would tell his friends and then Leon’s friends would find out and- he panicked. What else could he say?

Leon came back to his neighbors later that night, maybe ten, ten thirty? Who cares? The thing about his neighbors is that the parents loved him because he was willing to spend two hours of his day tutoring their son who got into school mostly due to his parents, why wouldn’t they give him a spare key to the house?

He didn’t use a gun and he didn't go bare-handed, he’s not completely stupid. Leon just... came in through the back door with one of the knives from his kitchen and got to work. Leon hadn't thought a whole lot through besides his alibi, he'd just say he was sleeping, he's a college student, aren't you supposed to get sleep when given the chance?

But now his hands were covered in blood as well as his clothes, he made sure not to get any on his shoes, he'll just wash whatever became bloodied. And if he couldn't wash the blood out, he could just feed it to the fire pit, maybe a tie dye shirt wouldn't look too bad on him, he's thinking red and black.

He's not used to the feeling of someone else's blood coating his skin, did you know what that felt like? No, that blood had been your own, but still, maybe you could've told him it would be warm. And God, the fucking stench of it, he's gonna scrub his skin raw when he gets back home.

Leon doesn't expect you to come back to him that night, though he still really hopes that you do. But while he waited, he cleaned. Did his laundry, washed the knife, looked for any splotches of blood left in his yard that would be seen as an immediate red flag, he even kicked in the glass back door of his neighbors house for good measure! He probably wouldn't have slept, anyway, the adrenaline of puncturing a soft body with something he uses to cook is still running through his veins. He wasn't too worried about the other neighbors, most of them were old, it was well past their bed time.

Was Leon disappointed when you didn't show that night? Of course. But if you needed a night to try to gather your thoughts then what kind of boyfriend would he be to not allow you that space?

And it was no surprise when the cops showed up at his door the next morning, Leon had gone through this situation over and over in his head the whole night, he just needs to play dumb and be polite.

"No, officer, I didn't hear anything last night, what's the matter?"

"I don't know anyone who would do something like that to that family! That's just awful!"

"They've never upset me, and even if they did, I wouldn't kill them over it!"

"Damn, do I need to get security cameras or something, officer?"

Of course the police told him to get the security cameras, it’s no big problem for him, no one has to protect him, he’s just waiting for you to come back. Maybe you’ll even stay longer once you do finally come back to him, there’d be no one to worry about, so what’s the problem?

—

Leon doesn't get it, it's been almost a month now and you're still not back. Why is that? Did you just not know what he had done for you and decided to wait a bit longer? Maybe he should've known that the girl who got fucking stabbed to death wouldn't like him killing a family for her, God, did he scare you off?

He went to your grave, it looks normal. He'd never gone now because he had no reason to, but the soil wasn't loose or anything. Should he try to dig you up? No, that would get him thrown in jail in a matter of minutes. You weren’t even showing up on the security cameras the cops advised him to get,

Leon can't stand it. He misses you, is that really so bad?

How long were you planning to stay away? Did you just break up with him without even really saying it? Was killing his neighbors worth it? It's like you've just vanished! What does he have to do to get you to come back?

The pictures he has of you - from when you were alive, newspaper clippings of your obituary and your memorial service after the funeral - don't sit right with him anymore. He's had them since you started coming over, he just wanted to know more about you, but seeing you smiling at him through the black and white paper doesn't sit well in his stomach.

What's he supposed to do with your clothes? He misses you, why can't you just leave him a note explaining things? And he can't even tell anyone. He's worried about you, what if something happened to you?

But he waits, like he does every night.

And he waits, then waits a bit longer, then waits even more, and a month turns into four way too fast.

Where are you?

Leon swears he can hear the tap tap on his window, but when he looks, you're never there. Now he has to deal with the weight of murder on his shoulders while the cops are still out looking for the killer. Were the cops why you weren't coming back?

This is unbelievable, didn't you love him? If you don't come to him, he might have to come to you... somehow. He'll figure it out, he's pretty sure you're meant to be together.

Come on, don’t you know he’d die for you? Leon can’t wait for forever.