#and i don't dare try to join stuff

[whirling-fangs]

🍪🍷.

MY EXPERIENCE IN THE ROLEPLAYING COMMUNITY // accepting!!

🍪 my favorite roleplay memory

[[ It's practically impossible to pick one from almost a decade of RP, but I fondly remember the time when I first wrote a 3-way thread. The plotting, the emulation between the writers, the plot building bit by bit as each of us added their ideas... it was really amazing. I would LOVE to do that again over here ;w; ]]

🍷 a character i want to write but never made a blog for

[[ there is none :') It takes a LOT to make me pick up a muse. I have a very single-track brain and when I obsess over a character enough to actually muse them, it lasts a few years. I tried having two muses at the same time when I first started writing Inosuke, and uh... that didn't go well. Brain wants boar and boar only ;-; ]]

[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

[1shouldbedoinghomeworknow]

NOTES GAME!

highly doubt this will get more than maybe 10 notes but bleh

1 note- drink water done!

5 notes- add all my moots on my intro post Done!

10 notes- a single, proper exercise session Done!

20 notes- clean table Done!

25 notes- clean fish tank (already clean, just need a reminder for the next time) Done!

50 notes- find a new skill/ hobby done!

75 notes- work on a drawing (I need motivation pls) Done!

100 notes- work on my hobby without giving up immediately somehow, done

250 notes- set up a proper schedule (basically, get my life together) done!

550 notes- finish every single holiday assignment I have

700 notes- Actually get my life together

i'll add any other goals i need to do later

tagging my peeps

@cartaline @fishteeth0 @c0nstantlyscreaming @avaparation @kupalinka6 @toastedjam @aetea-the-sappho @phallusmagnificus @palirmo95 (please get a new pfp you look like a bot, and reblog stuff too) @desperately-seeking-myself @tamilhobbit @anomymous1 and anyone else who wants to join/ I forgot to tag

Edit: NOOOO, I'VE BEEN DEFEATED!!! HOW TF DID THIS GET 100 NOTES WITHIN ONE DAY????

anyways it's nearly 11 so I can't work on those right now but I promise I'll work on all of it asap!

Edit no. 2: you may have defeated me once, but I'm not done yet! New goal!

Edit no. 3: HOW DARE YOU TRY TO HELP ME GET MY SHIT TOGETHER? I'VE BEEN DEFEATED YET AGAIN!!!!!

Edit no:4 perhaps this is for the best, new goal yall!

Edit no 5: I don't know if I'll be able to do all the hw in one day but I'll try! Thanks everyone

[mahalachives]

hi!! i don't if requests are still upon but if you're free can you please write one where the reader is azriel's mate and they've been together for a while and the IC knows, and at one dinner they find out that she used to be like, a party animal and kinda a maneater and they're totally shocked bcs shes so calm and composed now.

and then the next night the girls ask her for like tips to reject guys and stuff like 'what's the most offensive thing you've said to a man?' or 'how to reject men?'

really sorry if its too long!!

The Shadow's Mate: A Past Revealed

pairing: azriel x f!reader

genre: slice of life, fluff

The evening air was crisp as you made your way to the townhouse with Azriel, his shadows curling affectionately around your wrists. Six months since the mating bond had snapped into place, and still the Inner Circle dinners filled you with a mixture of joy and mild anxiety.

"You're quiet tonight," Azriel murmured, his hazel eyes searching yours."

You smiled up at him. "Just thinking."

His scarred hand squeezed yours gently. "About?"

"How different life is now." You leaned into his warmth. "And how much I prefer it."

Azriel's mouth quirked up at the corner, that small smile that only you could coax from him. "As do I."

The townhouse was already alive with chatter and laughter when you arrived. Feyre and Rhys were locked in what appeared to be a spirited debate about some painting technique, while Cassian and Nesta were arguing over knife-throwing techniques. Mor and Amren were deep in conversation about some jewelry merchant in the Rainbow.

"Finally," Cassian called out, grinning broadly as you both entered. "We thought we'd have to start without you."

"Some of us respect punctuality," Nesta remarked dryly, but there was no real bite to her words.

Dinner began as it always did – with wine flowing freely and conversation bouncing from topic to topic. Azriel kept his usual quiet vigil, though his shadows occasionally danced toward you, a secret gesture of affection that never failed to make your heart flutter.

"So," Mor said, refilling her wine glass for the third time, her cheeks flushed with a rosy glow, "I ran into the most awful male at Rita's last night. He tried to convince me his father owned half the Night Court."

"What did you tell him?" Elain asked, her eyes bright with curiosity.

Mor's grin was wicked. "That I'd introduce him to my cousin, the High Lord, and see if that checked out."

Laughter rippled around the table, and you couldn't help but join in.

"I swear, the males in this city are getting more ridiculous with their approaches," Mor continued, rolling her eyes. "Remember that one who tried to impress me by claiming he could outfly an Illyrian?"

"Did you dare him to try?" you asked before you could stop yourself, a hint of your old mischief slipping through.

Cassian barked a laugh. "I would have paid good money to see that."

"When I was at the Court of Nightmares," Feyre added, swirling her wine, "the number of propositions I received was absurd. One male offered me a collection of 'rare' paintings that were such obvious forgeries I nearly laughed in his face."

Something about the conversation loosened something inside you—a reminder of a different time, a different you.

"At least forgeries show some effort," you said, taking a sip of your wine. "I once had a male offer to buy me a drink with money he'd just borrowed from me."

The table fell momentarily silent, and you realized everyone was staring at you with varying degrees of surprise. Even Azriel's brows had inched up slightly.

"What?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"You've never mentioned... dating before Azriel," Elain said delicately.

You glanced at your mate, who was watching you with that unreadable expression that had first drawn you to him. But there was a curious glint in his eyes now.

"Oh, I didn't date," you clarified with a casual wave. "Dating implies some level of commitment."

Cassian choked on his wine. Nesta patted his back, though her eyes never left you.

"You mean you..." Mor began, leaning forward with newfound interest.

"Had a rather active social life? Yes." You shrugged, a smile tugging at your lips. "Is that surprising?"

"Considering how you nearly fainted when Cassian made that joke about bedposts last month..." Rhys trailed off, his violet eyes dancing with amusement.

"That wasn't embarrassment," you corrected him. "That was me trying not to laugh at how tame it was."

Azriel's shadows curled with what you recognized as amusement, though his face remained mostly impassive.

"You're so... composed," Feyre said, gesturing vaguely in your direction. "So..."

"Proper?" you offered, and couldn't help but laugh. "I wasn't always. Before I moved to Velaris, I spent decades in the Autumn Court border towns. You develop certain... skills to navigate those environments."

"Skills," Amren repeated, her silver eyes gleaming with approval. "I bet you have stories."

"More than you'd believe," you admitted, feeling oddly liberated. You'd kept this part of yourself tucked away, unsure how it would fit with the dignified Inner Circle. Now you wondered why you'd bothered.

"Like what?" Cassian pressed, looking far too eager.

You caught Azriel's eye. His expression was one you knew well—silent encouragement, absolute acceptance.

"Well," you began, leaning forward conspiratorially, "there was the time I convinced three different males they were meeting me for a private rendezvous, only to have them all show up at the same tavern, at the same table..."

"No," Mor gasped delightedly.

"Oh yes. They were all from prominent Autumn Court families who were business rivals. I simply left them to figure it out while I slipped away with a rather expensive bottle of wine from behind the bar."

The table erupted in laughter, and something in your chest loosened even further.

"Why?" Nesta asked, a gleam of approval in her eyes.

"One of them had been particularly cruel to a friend of mine," you explained. "The other two were just collateral damage. And terrible flirts."

"I can't believe we never knew this about you," Feyre said, shaking her head in wonder.

You shrugged. "It wasn't relevant. That was before... everything." Your eyes drifted to Azriel.

"Before you tamed our shadowsinger?" Cassian teased.

You and Azriel exchanged a look that made Rhys clear his throat awkwardly.

"I wouldn't say 'tamed,'" you replied with a small smile.

"I think that's enough details for dinner," Rhys declared, though he was grinning.

The conversation shifted to other topics, but you could feel the occasional curious glances from the others. It was strange to have this part of yourself exposed, but not entirely unpleasant.

Later, as you and Azriel prepared to leave, he pulled you close in the quiet of the townhouse foyer.

"You never cease to surprise me," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

"Does it bother you?" you asked, suddenly uncertain. "Knowing I was so..."

"Free?" he offered. "Independent? Formidable?" His scarred fingers traced your cheek. "Why would I be bothered by the woman you were? She led you to me."

Your heart swelled as his lips found yours in a gentle kiss that quickly deepened into something more urgent.

"Take me home, shadowsinger," you whispered against his mouth.

His shadows enveloped you both, and the last thing you heard before the darkness swept you away was Cassian's distant whoop of approval.

The following evening found you at Rita's, surrounded by the females of the Inner Circle. It had been Mor's idea—a "girls' night" she'd called it, though you suspected it was partially motivated by her desire to hear more about your previous life.

"So," Mor began after your second round of drinks, confirming your suspicions, "most offensive thing you've ever said to a male?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "That's a high bar."

"We have time," Nesta said dryly, though her eyes sparkled with interest.

You considered for a moment. "Probably when I told a particularly persistent suitor that I'd rather mate with one of the naga than endure another minute of his company."

Elain's eyes widened while Feyre and Mor dissolved into laughter.

"That's brutal," Feyre managed between giggles.

"He deserved it," you replied with a shrug. "He had grabbed my wrist when I tried to walk away."

"What happened?" Amren asked, sipping her blood-red wine.

"Let's just say he learned that not all females need Illyrian warriors to protect them." You smiled sweetly, and Nesta clinked her glass against yours in solidarity.

"I need your expertise," Mor declared, leaning forward. "Best way to reject a male without causing a scene?"

"Depends on the male," you replied thoughtfully. "For the entitled ones, nothing works better than complete indifference. Act as if they're invisible. They hate that more than outright rejection—it wounds their pride more deeply."

"Noted," Feyre said, looking impressed.

"For the genuinely decent ones who just aren't right for you," you continued, "honesty works best. A simple 'I'm flattered, but no' with direct eye contact."

"What about the handsy ones?" Nesta asked, her expression darkening at some memory.

"Ah, those." You leaned back in your chair. "Public embarrassment is effective. Loudly ask if they're feeling alright after that unfortunate rash cleared up. Works every time."

Elain nearly choked on her drink.

"What about the ones who just won't take no for an answer?" Feyre asked.

"That's when you employ the 'bait and switch,'" you explained. "Pretend to give them your address, but actually direct them to the most unpleasant location you can think of. In the Autumn Court, I once sent a particularly awful male to what I claimed was my private cottage. It was actually the local waste collection site."

Mor's head fell back as she howled with laughter. Even Amren's lips curled into an appreciative smile.

"You're a menace," Feyre said admiringly.

"Was," you corrected with a small smile. "Now I'm a perfectly respectable mate to a High Lord's shadowsinger."

"Speaking of," Nesta said with uncharacteristic curiosity, "how did you and Azriel actually get together? I can't imagine him navigating the games you used to play."

"He didn't have to," you said softly. "That's why it worked. He saw through everything—all the walls, all the games. He just... waited."

"That sounds like Az," Feyre murmured.

"It was terrifying," you admitted. "Someone who could see the real me when I'd spent so long hiding her."

"And now?" Elain asked gently.

You smiled, thinking of the quiet understanding that had grown between you and Azriel, the safety you'd found in his shadows.

"Now I don't have to play games anymore. It's... peaceful."

"Cauldron save me," Mor groaned dramatically. "Az has domesticated you."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," you replied with a wicked grin that made even Nesta raise her eyebrows. "Some skills never fade."

Later, when you arrived home to find Azriel waiting, his shadows reached for you before he did—always so eager, so honest in their affection.

"Did you have a good evening?" he asked, pulling you close.

"Enlightening," you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck. "They think you've tamed me."

His low chuckle rumbled through his chest. "Should I tell them it's the other way around?"

"Let them wonder," you whispered, standing on tiptoe to brush your lips against his. "Some mysteries are worth keeping."

As his wings enfolded you both in a cocoon of shadow and starlight, you silently thanked the Cauldron for leading you here—from the wild, guarded creature you'd been to someone who could finally be herself, completely and without fear, in the arms of a male who cherished every version of you that had ever existed.

End.

Note: hope you enjoyed! I had fun writing this. ❤️

[tortillamastersblog]

Where Light Bends Wrong - Part 7 | Wednesday Addams

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Warnings: mentions of murder

Summary: You’ve kept your secret buried and your power quiet, until Wednesday Addams came to Nevermore and turned your whole world upside down.

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

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"Lookin' good, Y/N," Yoko compliments when she rounds the canoe, eyeing the cat I just painted onto the side.

It's not a masterpiece by any stretch, and I don't consider myself a painter, but I have to admit it looks pretty good.

I smile gently. "Thanks."

Enid rounds the canoe too and beams. "Oh, we're so going to win this year," she boasts, which makes me chuckle.

She did try to ask me about what exactly happened last night over lunch, just like I expected, but when I told her I wasn't sure myself, she accepted it even though I know she knows there's more to the story.

Fact is though, no one believes Rowan's dead. Enid told me she and Yoko saw him just before I joined them for lunch, but I know what I saw.

I also know I'm not going crazy and that Wednesday is right, someone's trying to cover this up, but I have no interest in getting involved any more than I already have.

"I sure hope so," Yoko says with a snort.

Bianca and her team have won three or four years in a row now because they somehow play dirtier than everyone else, so the chances of the Black Cats winning are pretty slim, but I don't want to put a damper on their mood, especially not Enid's, so ljust hum in agreement before glancing at my watch.

Our lunch is almost over, so I put my paintbrush down and place the lid on the paint I was using. "We better get going, guys."

Enid, Yoko, and Mina, one of the other girls on their team, check their phones for the time to see that I'm right and start packing up too.

Some students have a free period now to focus on their extracurricular activities, like Bianca and her a cappella group or Xavier practicing his archery, but Enid, Yoko, Mina, and I don't.

We'll have time to work on the canoe some more before dinner later, so I don't square my stuff away perfectly. I just make sure the paint won't dry out and wrap some plastic wrap around the tip of my paintbrush before heading to the school before the others.

I left my bag in my room, so l'll have to get it before we head to class together. I effortlessly skip up the stairs to my room and grab my bag, making sure I have everything I need before heading to class. As I round a corner though, I run into someone, and after apologizing and stepping back, I freeze when I realize who it is.

It's Rowan, and he's wearing the exact same thing he wore yesterday - brown jacket, green hoodie, glasses and all.

"Sorry," he apologizes, not looking up and trying to get past me, but I grab his arm.

"Rowan," I breathe.

He stops and looks up, and the moment our eyes meet, a shiver runs down my spine because Wednesday was right.

This isn't Rowan.

It's someone else pretending to be him. I can tell by the look in his eyes, how calmly he takes me in when just last night he staggered away from me in fear.

I also sense his emotions, and although there is some anxiety there, he's mostly calm, and for some reason it feels familiar. Not in the way he felt when I used to be around him, but in the way l've felt around someone else before, I just can't say who.

I let go of him without another word and simply nod when he asks if I'm okay, and then he's off, lugging his trunk with him.

Wait, what? Where is he going?

He's already vanished amidst the other students before I can ask, so I swallow the sense of dread that dares to claw its way up my throat and make my way to class.

Rowan is dead. I know it and I know someone is covering up his murder and I swore to myself to stay out of it, but the more I think about it—how he looked at me when I ran into him and how I knew it wasn't him instantly—the more I feel my resolve slip.

It's dangerous getting involved, even more so because Wednesday is involved, but I have a feeling I will be involved no matter what.

"Oh, hey."

I snap out of my thoughts and look over my shoulder to see Ajax stepping into the small shed. It's right next to the school and usually used by the gardeners to store their tools, but it also holds a bunch of paints and art supplies specifically for the Poe Cup.

"Hi."

He smiles and gestures at the black paint can in my hand. "Is there any left of that or is that the last one?"

"Uh, I dunno." I turn back and pull the cardboard box with all the paints off the shelf and place it on the floor between us.

Ajax sends me another smile and crouches down to look through it. I go to leave, but then he speaks up which makes me stop in my tracks. "So, I see Enid has convinced you to help her and her team again?"

I chuckle softly and nod. "You could say that although forced is probably a more accurate word to describe it."

He lets out a laugh and glances at me. "Well, either way, you're doing it which is nice. And she seems to appreciate it… she's been smiling all day."

I raise an eyebrow at that, which makes Ajax avert his eyes, flustered. His heartbeat stumbles slightly and the embarrassment radiating off him makes a smirk pull at my lips.

Oh.

I usually don't get involved in other people's lives because if I stay out of theirs, they stay out of mine, but for once I can't help but state the obvious.

"You like her."

"What? No!" Ajax's wide eyes snap back to me and he gets to his feet, having found another black paint can.

I just cross my arms and watch how he gets flustered. "Right…"

Enid has been hinting about liking Ajax for some time now, even going out of her way to buy him the newest gorgon shampoo that is gentle on his snake's eyes, but she has yet to make a real move. She said she doesn't know if he likes her back, which is fair because he doesn't talk much and like me he's a bit of a loner, but I just got the proof I needed.

"I— well, you see—"

"Don't worry, I won't tell her," I cut him off when his embarrassment makes way for panic.

He meets my eyes hesitantly, his heart still beating rapidly in his chest. "You won't?"

I shake my head and let my smirk melt into a gentle smile. "No. It's not my secret to tell."

"Thank you." He sighs in relief and I step past him, patting his shoulder and adding, "But just so you know, if you ever wanna do something about it, I think you'd have a pretty good chance," before stepping outside again.

It's half past three now and we don't have any more classes today, which gives us a bunch of time to put the finishing touches on the canoe.

I round the corner of the school, enjoying the feeling of the afternoon sun on my face before stopping when I see Wednesday talking to Enid next to the canoe.

I groan mentally because of all the places, this is the last one I expected her to be, but then my ears pick up on their conversation and I'm intrigued.

"… you want me to cover so you can return to the scene of a crime that didn't happen?" Enid asks with a raised eyebrow, kneeling next to the canoe to put a finishing touch on one of the fangs painted on the side.

Wednesday huffs in exasperation. "I have beekeeping club this afternoon and need you as decoy."

I snort. Beekeeping club? That does not sound like something Wednesday would willingly participate in, especially not with Eugene, who is sweet and bubbly—the complete opposite of her—but I guess she's full of surprises.

"Sorry. Two strikes," Enid declines with a cringe. "I'm busy and bees totally creep me out."

That's true. Last year, one landed on her shoulder and she literally started crying even though the bees probably just thought she was a flower because of the neon yellow sweater she was wearing.

"Why don't you ask Thing?" Enid goes on as I slowly approach them. I don't want to talk to Wednesday again, but I know Enid needs the paint. "Oh that's right, you can't because he's mad at you," she answers her own question sarcastically, which makes me frown.

Thing is mad at Wednesday? Why? Just this morning when Wednesday came to my room, they were fine.

"Why's he mad? He's the one who screwed up with Rowan," Wednesday asks, genuinely confused.

Wait, what? How could he screw up with Rowan? Or should I say not-Rowan. Unless… of course. Wednesday probably had him follow not-Rowan and he must have lost him.

Enid just shrugs. "All I know is that we spent an hour giving each other manis and he really opened up. He feels like you don't respect him as a person."

A somewhat disgusted frown pulls at Wednesday's lips at the mention of manicures, even though she literally has impeccable black nails. I guess the whole social aspect must be tripping her up.

"Well, technically he's only a hand," she deadpans which, once again, weren't it for the circumstances, I would actually laugh at even though she's being dead serious.

Enid shoots her a bored glare. "Wednesday, he's your family. And he would do anything for you." Her face softens slightly and she adds, "Go apologize and I'll reconsider helping you."

Wednesday, much to my surprise, actually considers it. A thoughtful look crosses her face and then she exhales softly, resigned, and turns to leave.

Her step falters slightly when she spots me but she doesn't stop. She just eyes me for a moment with an unreadable expression before averting her eyes and making her way up to the school.

Good. She got the message. I don't want to be involved.

I can't help but think about what she's getting herself into though. Going back into the forest all alone… I don't like it. Not after I saw that monster last night.

"What was that all about?" I ask Enid as soon as I'm within earshot.

"Oh nothing. Just Wednesday being Wednesday," she says casually. "Did you get the paint?"

I nod and hold it out to her, noting how she not so subtly looks past me. By the way her cheeks turn a light shade of pink, I can tell she's spotted Ajax and I feel myself smiling gently, but then my eyes land on Wednesday's still retreating figure and my stomach churns as if forebodingly.

I pace my room, not knowing what to do. It's almost dinner now and the sun is starting to set and although the sun was out just an hour earlier, the sky is overcast now and I can see a blanket of fog drifting over the forest outside my window.

Wednesday is out there. Alone. Looking for clues and although her heartbeat is steady so far, I don't like the thought of her out there. It's getting dark and with the fog she could get lost if she's not careful.

I stop pacing and stare out of the window for a second, hearing Enid squeal somewhere in the distance, covering for Wednesday so Weems doesn't find out she's off school grounds.

She came by earlier and told me what she was going to do since Wednesday actually apologized to Thing. She asked me if maybe I wanted to take her place, but Weems would know it was me under the beekeepers outfit because I'm so much taller than both Wednesday and Enid so I had to decline.

Which leaves me here, worried about someone I should be staying away from.

I hear a twig snap somewhere in the forest which makes me flinch slightly and move before I know what's going on. I grab my jacket, having changed out of my uniform earlier, and head out. I make sure to stay in the shadow until I make it to the edge of the forest so Weems doesn't see me and then I start jogging in the direction of Wednesday's heartbeat.

The air is damp and smells like dead leaves and rain, and for a moment I think I even smell the coppery scent of blood but the next second it's gone.

When my pendant heats up, somehow signaling I'm nearing Wednesday, I slow down and push through the underbrush until I see her rounding a tree, her dark eyes scanning the ground.

Then, I hear another snap and look to my left, seeing Sheriff Galpin and his German shepherd. I quickly move behind a tree before I realize he's about to see Wednesday but then before I can move an arm wraps around her from behind a nearby tree and pulls her out of sight.

I frown and focus my hearing, only now realizing there's another steady heartbeat close to Wednesday. Hers stays calm so I'm assuming she's not in any danger.

I look around the tree to see Galpin scanning the ground like Wednesday just did and clench my jaw.

So he believes something happened after all, otherwise he wouldn't be out here.

It makes my head spin a little because if even he believes something is up, there must be more to this monster than just Rowan's murder and all the other killings recently.

Although the press keeps saying it must have been a bear, I doubt it and he being here just confirms it.

He goes on searching, using his boot to sometimes swipe away some leaves, until he's out of sight. I can still hear him and his dog panting and whining every now and then, but he's too far gone to hear or see me, so I step out from behind my tree and hurry to the tree Wednesday and the other person are hiding behind.

Unsurprisingly, it turns out to be Tyler, holding Wednesday against him with his hand over her mouth and a worried look on his face.

When he sees me his eyes widen but he doesn't move. Wednesday does though, shoving him off immediately and grumbling something under her breath along the lines of don't touch me.

Her dark eyes settle on me and she pauses for a moment before turning to Tyler who immediately raises his hands in apology. 

“Sorry,” he says with a wince. “I didn’t want Elvis to pick up on your scent.”

“Thanks,” she says, which makes something twist in my stomach. I literally saved her life twice now and neither time has she thanked me, but when Tyler helps her not get caught doing something she shouldn’t be doing she can say it?

I’m honestly not jealous, just a little hurt which makes me wonder when I started caring so much about what she does, or, in my case, doesn’t do. 

I don’t speak up though and simply listen halfheartedly when Wednesday asks how Tyler managed to throw the dog off and he pulls out some coffee grounds with a wry smile and explains how it’s a deer hunting hack.

She goes on to ask about why his dad brought the dog and he tells her he doesn’t know but that he must suspect something which is why he followed him in the first place. I surmise that Wednesday told him about what happened last night because she doesn’t question it. When she could have told him, I’m not sure, but I’m guessing it was earlier today while I was in class and she was in town for her therapy appointment.

“You must think it’s weird I’m stalking him,” he says, completely ignoring me.

“No,” Wednesday deadpans. “I consistently stalk my parents.”

She turns and eyes me again for a moment, probably wondering why I’m here after I told her I didn’t want to get involved before brushing past me and going back to inspecting the ground.

“So, what are you doing here?” Tyler asks, finally acknowledging me. He has the audacity to raise a challenging eyebrow, making me scoff.

I don't have to explain myself to him, but he continues to stare me down as though trying to get some kind of confession of wrongdoing out of me. So I draw myself up to my full height and cross my arms.

"Am I not allowed to be here?"

"I don't know, you tell me," he says calmly, which makes me brush him off with an eye roll and turn to Wednesday.

I don’t have much of a problem with him, but he did help Lucas Walker and his goons destroy Xavier’s mural on Outreach Day last year, and he’s acting super weird right now which is throwing me off a little, and not in a good way.

“These are Rowan’s,” Wednesday mumbles.

I frown and take a step toward her when she bends down and picks something up from between the leaves. Her back is turned to me, so it's a little hard to see what she found, but then something glints in the dim light and I realize it's Rowan's glasses. The glass is cracked, and there’s a little blood on the lens. It’s the ultimate proof that his death is being covered up… just like Wednesday said.

I take another step forward, intrigued, only for my stomach to drop in the next second when Wednesday suddenly freezes up, her eyes widening and her head snapping back in a grotesque way.

“Oh my God,” Tyler exclaims behind me, voicing my exact thoughts while I’m too busy closing the little distance left between Wednesday and me to catch her just as she begins tipping.

She’s even smaller in my arms than I remember from when I tackled her out of the way when the gargoyle almost fell on her, and when my hand brushes against hers, I actually shiver from how cool her skin feels.

It’s a stark contrast to how my pendant heats up at the contact, but I ignore it, my sudden worry for her overshadowing everything else.

“Hey, hey, hey.” I shake her gently, but she doesn’t react. Her unblinking eyes continue to stare up at the tree tops traced against the darkening sky.

“What’s wrong with her?” Tyler asks, bewildered, hurrying to my side.

“I—I don’t know,” I stammer. I focus on her heartbeat, but it’s calm, and my pendant is pulsing steadily, putting somewhat of a damper on my worry, almost as if it knows something I don’t.

Tyler and I share a confused look while I hold Wednesday, until she suddenly goes limp in my arms and starts blinking rapidly. I tighten my grip on her to make sure she doesn’t sink to the ground and help her stand when she slowly starts to come to properly. She grips one of my forearms with her hand while the other keeps a hold on the glasses before looking around, confused.

“Are you okay?” I ask when our eyes meet.

“I… Yes.” She says after a moment, gulping.

I tentatively lessen my grip on her, and she gets the memo, letting go of my forearm so I can let go of her completely once I’m sure she’s stable again. She doesn’t brush me off the way she did with Tyler earlier, but that could just be because she’s still recovering from whatever the hell just happened.

“What happened?” Tyler asks, reaching for her to touch her elbow in a comforting manner, but she shifts away ever so slightly.

“It doesn’t matter,” she says, slowly but surely returning to her old self. “I have to get back to the school.”

And then she simply turns and starts marching off in the direction of the school. Tyler shoots me one last questioning look, but I just shrug before following her, leaving him behind.

I catch up with her in a few quick strides. She’s deep in thought, eyes on the ground so she doesn’t trip while turning Rowan’s glasses over and over in one hand. Her other hand absently plays with a silver necklace around her neck I hadn’t noticed before. There’s a round pendant with a wiry W in the middle, and she keeps running her thumb over it until she suddenly stops and looks at me.

“I had a vision,” she says, tucking the necklace back under her uniform.

“A vision?” I repeat quietly, which makes her exhale impatiently.

“Yes, a vision.” She reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls out a piece of paper with a pencil drawing on it, holding it out to me. “Have you seen this before?”

I take the paper and have to force myself not to react visibly when I see that it’s a drawing of the Nightshades’ symbol. I study it for a second before looking back up to find her already watching me, expectant.

“Why?” I ask.

She hesitates, working her jaw before reaching into her pocket again. She pulls out another paper, this one more worn. As she unfolds it, she’s careful not to damage it before handing it over too.

“Rowan showed me this right before attacking me,” she says.

I frown and look at it, only for my eyebrows to shoot up in surprise. It’s a drawing of what I’m assuming is supposed to be Wednesday, standing in the destroyed and burning Quad of the school.

“He said his mother drew it. Supposedly she was a seer, and she said I’d destroy the school…”

“So he tried to kill you to stop it from happening,” I finish, looking up to see her nod.

“The symbol is a watermark. Right here.” She steps closer to tap the top right corner of the drawing. I squint and bring the paper closer. She’s right.

“I need to know what book the page was torn out of. I need to know how I’m going to destroy the school so I can try to prevent it,” she says, and the way her voice drops makes me believe she’s actually being sincere.

But telling her about the Nightshades and their library, which is obviously where the page came from, would mean leading her closer to finding out what I am, and I can’t let that happen.

I take one last look at the picture before folding it up and handing it back, along with the drawing of the Nightshades’ symbol.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know,” I lie, which makes her deflate.

She stuffs the papers back into her pocket and huffs.

I want to say something else, but nothing comes to mind, so when she starts walking again, I just follow her in silence.

I keep an eye and ear out for any signs of the monster, but we’re alone until we get back to the school.

Wednesday doesn’t ask for more help, or question why I followed her into the forest again, but she says, “Someone’s covering up Rowan’s murder,” looking me dead in the eye as she slips his glasses into her pocket.

She probably expects me to deny it, or say she’s wrong, but I just nod once and say, “I know,” before turning and heading off to dinner.

Seek where silence is etched in stone

And light bends wrong when left alone

What you search for is out of sight

Until you ask the dark for light

I check the slip of paper again and mutter the riddle beneath my breath, skimming through the shelves at the back of the Nightshades’ library.

I left dinner early and went to my room, letting the events of the last twenty-four hours wash over me again before remembering how my pendant lit up like a Christmas tree, and sneaking out when I was sure everyone had retreated to their rooms. I kept an ear out for Wednesday’s heartbeat specifically when I made my way to the library, but she was all the way across the school, so I knew I was in the clear.

That doesn’t help me now though, because I’ve been searching for that damned book for over ten minutes. Weems really hid it well, and I wish I’d paid more attention when she told me where she put it all this time ago, but I just couldn’t.

“Where light bends wrong when left alone,” I whisper, pausing when I look down one row of shelves and see a beam of moonlight streaming in through a window in the ceiling and bending unnaturally across the stone wall.

Where light bends wrong...

I squeeze in between the dusty bookshelves, lined with books full of misprints and bad omens, until I step into the soft light and get a good look at the small stone panel that shouldn’t be part of the wall and is causing the light to misbehave. I touch it and get even closer when I feel something small etched into it, gasping when I realize it’s the same symbol as on my pendant… three parallel lines cutting through a single circle with the one in the middle slightly longer than the others.

“Of course,” I mumble, pressing my fingers against it, but nothing happens. I try again, but again, nothing happens, so I take another look at the riddle. “Until you ask the dark for light,” I read out loud, and much to my surprise, that does the trick. Something clicks faintly, and then the stone sinks inward and moves to the side, opening just wide enough for me to reach inside and pull out the leather-bound book. There’s no title on the spine or the cover, but there is an inscription inside the front cover.

De Velatis et Evanidis

“Of the Veiled and the Vanished,” I translate out loud, feeling a weight settle on my chest. I close it for a moment and take a deep breath, composing myself before opening it again and flipping to the first page.

The Ægiryn: Children of the Mirrorheart

~Of Origins and Essence~

The Ægiryn are a fading lineage of supernatural blood, their existence now little more than a whisper. Once revered as Oracles of Emotion and healers of unseen wounds, they bore the rare gift of feeling truth. But reverence turned to fear. As human and supernatural powers rose, the Ægiryn were quietly hunted for the very empathy that once made them sacred. To feel too much became a threat. Some say the last of them perished in the Year of Flame, though fragments may still linger, hidden in shadow.

~Etymology and Pronunciation~

The name Ægiryn stems from an Old Northern dialect, believed to mean “stone of truth” or “guardian of grief.” Some link it to a rare black gemstone, others to a forgotten title once bestowed upon their kind. Pronounced AY-gee-rin with a long A, as in fate.

~Classification~

Rarity: Myth-bound

Bloodline Status: Uncertain, possibly extinct

Nature: Empathic, soul-bound, reflective, dangerous.

The Ægiryn are catalogued in older Bestiaries not as beasts, but as anima viva (living emotion). The Pallid Veil called them Mirrorbloods. The Sentinels of Stillmarch labeled them Oracles of Madness. The truth lies somewhere in between.

~Core Traits and Abilities Overview~

It is widely accepted that the Ægiryn possessed five defining gifts.

Invulnerability In their guarded state, the Ægiryn are nearly impervious to harm. Their bodies heal swiftly, their skin resists blades, their bones do not break. Yet this strength is conditional. Should an Ægiryn form a soulbond or lay their emotional guard bare, their body mirrors this vulnerability.

Supernatural Physiology Gifted with the instincts of both prey and predator, they move fast enough to outrun arrows and strike with the power of stone. Their senses border on predatory…hearing tuned to whispers through doors, vision sharpened to silhouettes in fog.

The Mirrorheart An Ægiryn can feel the emotional state of others with painful clarity. It is said they don’t read minds, but echo hearts and—

My head snaps up and my heart drops when I hear light footsteps on the stairs down into the library. I’m not a Nightshade, so I shouldn’t be here, even though they all know I sneak in from time to time to borrow a rare book, but I know this person is not a Nightshade. No, it’s the owner of the heartbeat I can’t stop hearing.

Wednesday.

‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆ ⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧

The layout at the end is a little messy because I pasted the text from Google Docs but oh well…

Tag list: @sunshinez4 @protozoario @automaticpatroltragedy @mamas-evil-hag @theallseer97 @hellenheaven

[norman-fucking-reedus]

BEGGING ON MY KNEES FOR CORRUPTION KINK WITH DARYL YOU WRITE SMUT SO HEAVENLY😫😫😫

SWEET LITTLE SINNER

THE YUMMY STUFF: Age gap, (Daryl is in his late 50s, Reader in her early 30s) Creampies, breeding kink, fingering, bit of cockwarming, just smutty stuff, ...petnames 😇, semi-public?? guys they fuck in the church, virgin fem!reader, religious!reader, dont cancel me for this, but religion kink

DO NOT READ IF YOU THINK YOU'LL FEEL OFFENDED BECAUSE HOW YOU FEEL IS NOT MY PROBLEM

OKAY ANON I KNOW IM ANSWERING THIS REQ MONTHS LATER BUT BEAR WITH ME ALRIGHT 🎀

Im playing around with a new posting format and I honestly really like it so far! Im just literal dogshit at summaries so I don't necessarily bother with them (I mean at least I try) but eeeerm guys let me know if its cutie AND PLEASE LOOK AT MY BLOG PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I CHANGED THAT TOO

So after scrolling through the mounds of unanswered asks I have, I found this one and it reminded me of a conversation I had with my sister abt Daryl x a Christian girl who holds herself very high to her faith and has a deeper understanding of the bible

This takes place around the time they find gabriel, and somehow this ended up being a !greene reader, I also had to extend the church for... purposes :3

Believe it or not this is my first time ever writing corruption kink 😭 I got this request back when I was still fresh on tumblr and its been sitting ever since because I just didn’t know what to do (and I still dont)

southern gothic has me in a chokehold and I cant breathe

"Come on! Fight to the fence!" The sound of Rick's voice bellowed over the deafening clang of metal and ringing gunfire, rapidly taking down any walkers that shuffled within range as the men helped the women to climb over the fence first, Carl dropping down and catching all the weapons that were tossed onto the safe side.

Rosita crawled up the chain fence quickly, noticing that you were behind her when she was balanced right on top and extending a hand out to you. "Up and over" She lightly yet urgently joked, and you could only let out a small huff of air as you grasped her hand, and hauled yourself upwards, swinging a leg over to join her in scaling down the other side.

"Let's go! Move your asses!" Abraham shouted as he fired his gun, covering Rick as he made a break for the fence, the redhead man not far behind once the walkers had started to herd up. He threw the firearm over the fence and easily jumped onto half the fence, using a walker's head as a boost to fling himself over onto the other side.

As you and the others hastily gathered your belongings, no one dared to look back at the remnants of Terminus, trying to stay together as you all ran for a safe place behind Rick, expecting that he had some kind of miracle up his sleeve and would find a place to hunker down for a few hours, days even.

Despite the chaos and the destruction that surrounded you, you and the rest of the group hastily gathered your belongings, not daring to look back at the ruins of Terminus. Trying to stay as closely together as possible, you all followed Rick's lead as he dashed through the trees. He was the one who had kept the group alive for so long, and everyone was hoping that he could do it for just a little while longer.

After what felt like forever, you could feel the intense heat seeping into your skin and making your clothes stick to your body. Every step you took felt like a burden, with the fabric rubbing against your flesh. The air was thick with humidity, and you could feel the moisture clinging to your skin, making you feel sticky and uncomfortable. You glanced around at the other people around you, all of them appeared to be struggling in the heat, with their foreheads glistening with sweat and their breathing labored.

As you looked over at Daryl, you couldn't help but notice the solemn expression on his face as he kept his eyes fixed on the ground. It was clear that he had been struggling to come to terms with Carol's sudden disappearance, and had been much more withdrawn and reserved than usual. He seemed to be lost in thought, lost in his own world, and it was hard to know how to reach out to him.

"Right here," Rick spoke as he brought the group out to a small clearing that was surrounded by trees, briefly scanning the area before crouching down in the dirt and beginning to frantically dig.

Abraham scoffed, "Tha' hell are we still around here for?" taking a few steps forward as he analyzed and addressed Rick, watching the man pull out a blue duffel bag.

"Guns. Some supplies," He said bluntly, pulling the black zipper back and further exposing the bag's contents, multiple guns, and other hand-held weapons. "We go along the fences, use the rifles, and take out the rest of 'em."

"What?" Glenn gawked, staring at Rick in disbelief as he listened to the words spewing out his mouth, bouncing around uncomfortably in his head.

Rick started to pull out the variety of weapons one by one, not once turning to meet Glenn's gaze. "They don't get to live."

The latter pursed his lips and huffed, stepping closer to Rick as to get his attention. "Rick, we got out. It's over."

"It's not over till they're all dead." Rick growled, shaking his head.

"They are dead. That place is on fucking fire, crawling with walkers in every which way." Rosita spat, laughing in annoyance at Rick's stupidity.

You shake your head as Rick continued to pull items out of the bag, "We got lucky back there," you said, voice low and trembling. "It's not worth risking our lives by going back in" your eyes meeting Rick's in a plea for him to understand. "God doesn't always give us a second chance. Just play the hand you were dealt" The thought of going back into that walker-infested place made your skin crawl, and you couldn't understand why Rick was wasting his time.

"Does he think he could give me one?" A familiar voice spoke softly from behind your group, faces lighting up in surprise and joy as Carol lightly stepped through the forest, appearing from behind a tree with her signature smile tugging at her lips, stretching all the way up to her ears when all of Daryl's weight barreled into her frame, almost knocking her straight onto her ass with a shocked laugh.

Her unexpected appearance managed to lift the once extremely heavy atmosphere, now bright and bubbly as it was filled with smiles.

"Did you do that?" Rick questioned once it was his turn to hug Carol, not getting a verbal response but the cheeky smile painting her blood-covered face was more than telling. However, it didn't last long once she scanned over the entirety of the group. "You have to come with me."

Carol led the group through the forest and down the train tracks until reaching a small cabin hidden in the trees where Tyrese and sweet little Judith had been holed up waiting for her return, everyone watching as Sasha, Rick, and Carl sprinted towards them, each cradling their respective loved one. It was another emotional yet much-needed heartfelt reunion, especially considering that the last few weeks had been nothing but hell in a handbasket.

"We should get moving, the fire's still burning" The grey-haired woman suggested as she gave the tall, rising black smoke one last look over.

"Yeah. We need to go" Rick nodded as he took stared at the smoke, an unreadable expression on his face and in his eyes.

Daryl huffed slightly, "Yeah, but where?" glancing around the remote area.

"Doesn't matter. Somewhere far away from there."

It had been a long few days since the group had gotten somewhere far away from there, and a long few days since anyone had anything to eat. Stomachs were empty and energy seemed to only be decreasing, the hunger gnawing away at all of you.

As the sun slowly began to rise above the horizon, Daryl quietly made his way into the dense forest in search of something to eat. It was quiet, and peaceful as he gingerly and skillfully walked through the mess of vines and roots at his feet, blue eyes scanning the dirt floor for any sign of movement that might indicate the presence of an animal.

Oddly enough, it felt like he wasn't necessarily alone in these woods, glancing around and over his shoulder more than he typically would. Maybe it was just a nearby walker he could sense before he could see, but he knew way better than to believe something like that. His gut told him that there was someone else out here, and Daryl learned to always listen to his gut.

He instinctively raised his crossbow to be eye level, scanning the treeline as he took careful and quiet steps, moving from the west to the north and then east. There was a slight breeze that ruffled the leaves, tousled dark hair in his face, and flowed a dirty white skirt from a few feet from him, a tiny but audible gasp heard.

It had come from behind a thick collection of bushes, Daryl carefully combing them out of the way with one hand and ducking to prevent anything from getting in his eye. He had a tight grip on his crossbow, ready for whatever potential danger could be on the other side.

Luckily for him though, there was no danger. It was just you, the weird and off-putting Greene who had somehow turned into a new interest for Daryl, not quite being able to put his finger on just what it was that drew him towards you.

You were a quiet, soft but strange Christian girl, much different than Maggie and Beth. Unlike them, you seemed to have some kind of spiritual connection to the bible, a deeper understanding of it that often made others feel oddly safe around you, as if you truly did have God protecting you.

Funny enough, it reminded Daryl of when his parents would drag him to the southern church, forcing him into the small confession box where he would sit and sob for hours, silently begging for God to come save him.

He could hear you softly murmuring something, but the full words didn't entirely reach his ears. You were kneeling in front of a large moss-covered log, hands clasped together with your head down, looking up every so often. He watched how every time you leaned back, your hair fluttered back and fell back into position.

Not wanting to be creepy, he decided to come out from where he had been hiding, a little taken aback when you seemed to not be bothered, as if you had already known he wasn't any sort of threat.

"Hell ya' doin' out here girl?" Daryl grumbled out, standing a few feet behind you. He watched as you repeated the motion with your head a few more times, eventually pushing yourself up off your knees.

You knocked the gathered leaves and a few bugs off your skirt, smiling at him softly. "Prayer. I come out here every mornin' for it"

He scoffed slightly, glancing down at the ground as he rolled a rock under his shoe. "Why bother? Not like s'gon get heard anyway"

“Yeah? We’ll see. I prayed we find a safe place today” You said as you brushed some hair our your mouth, wind starting to pick up in speed.

Daryl hummed, “Pray we also find some food?” flipping his own hair out his face.

“Of course,” You laughed slightly, airy and light. “But with you out here I think that’ll be answered”

The man scoffed again, this time ducking his head at your words. “Yeah right” He mumbled out.

“I mean it. Look, there’s a squirrel in that tree” You point to a nearby oak tree and Daryl follows your finger, pulling the trigger of his crossbow faster than you could even fathom.

The squirrel hit the ground, Daryl stepped over a few roots and bushes to pick it up, pulling the arrow out and tossing the carcass over his shoulder.

“Good eye girly. C’mon, guess yer God is gon help ya’ help feed us” He glanced at you from over his clear shoulder, motioning for you to follow him with a short nod of the head.

You followed as he walked through the thick mess of bushes, the green leaves staining your cowgirl boots as you stepped on them. The birds chirped loudly above head as the sun got higher and higher in the sky, the air starting to increase in temperature.

It was quite a nice walk through the forest regardless of the heat, Daryl making for much better company than you expected even though he didn't have much to say. You filled the silence by humming softly to yourself, staying a few feet behind and looking around the wooded terrain, keeping an eye out for animals and walkers.

Daryl paused for a moment, holding up a finger and then positioning his crossbow again. The weapon fired, and you watched as it struck another squirrel, this time pinning it against a tree.

He yanked the arrow out, sliding it back into the holder on the front of his bow and tossing the second squirrel over his shoulder.

"Need'ta get at least five," He said as he continued walking, glancing at you again from over his other shoulder just to make sure you were still there.

You scoffed slightly at his words. "Five?" You repeated, staring at the angel wings on the back of his vest.

Daryl nodded, peering up into the trees and looking around on the ground. "Yeah. Got a lotta people to feed"

"And you think five is the lucky number?" You joke lightly, a small smile tugging your lips as you stay hot on his heels.

He shrugged, squirrels bouncing with the motion. "Dunno. Depends on how many ya prayed for"

"Well, if you told me, I would've prayed for at least ten" You appeared at his side and bumped his arm with yours, his gaze meeting yours for only a split second before you were suddenly startled by Rick and Glenn's out-of-nowhere appearances.

They pointed their guns at both of you, and you put your hands up to show you weren't a threat. "Jus' catchin' some breakfast," Daryl said as he dropped his arms and nodded at Glenn in greetings.

"Ready to get some concrete under your feet?" Rick asked him as the four of you began to make your way out of the forest and back to the rest of the group, the day only getting hotter and hotter. "I think it's time."

Daryl hummed, a thin layer of sweat starting to form on his forehead. "That is sweet music to my ears, Officer."

"We take the next road we come to, try to get back to going north 'till we find a vehicle." Rick gestured slightly with his hand, gun still in his grip just in case.

You all stepped up the steep hill leading back to the road where the group had decided to set up a temporary camp for the night.

Rick meet Daryl's eyes, placing a hand on his squirrel-less shoulder. "Good?"

"Good"

"–And Father God, I once again call upon you to ask for a blessing, a miracle, an answer. You've got me so far, this group, I ask, will you continue to do so? Will you bestow us a safe place? A home?"

Back on the road once again. It was hot as the group ventured forward, worn down shoes and boots slapping against the burning pavement as you all conversed amount yourselves and entertained one another, Michonne and Carl in some form of competition while you lingered behind, Daryl nearby just in case a walker somehow nabbed you.

He silently listened to the soft whispering of your voice, the gentle lull you used as you spoke your prayers, walking with your head down and the palms of your hands facing towards the sky, almost reaching out in a sense.

There was a few questions lingering on his tongue, but growing up in the southern church Daryl had learned not to ask questions until after prayer. Hell, he had learned not to ask questions period.

Daryl only watched you out the corner of his eye, your plush lips moving slightly as you murmured. There was just something about you that was captivating, the fact that you were almost a mixture of Beth's sweet and softness, Maggie's stern and stubbornness, it made him curious to know what the third mysterious Greene had to offer.

"Amen" You mumbled a little louder than intended, clasping your hands together as you finished and concluded your prayer. You brushed some hair out your face when you lifted your head, catching a glimpse at Daryl's watchful eye.

He looked away when your gaze met his, furrowing your brow slightly with a small and playful smile. "What?" You appeared closer to his side and purposely bumped into him, watching how he staggered a little in his pace.

"Nothin'. Jus' hot as hell out here" Daryl shrugged slightly, sweat rolling down his face and back.

You hummed softly, "Hell is a lot hotter than this, but it is super hot. Just wish we could find a river or something" fanning your legs with the loose fabric of your skirt.

Daryl glanced at you, eyes dropping the flowing motion of the fabric. "Tryna' go swimmin'?" He questioned, because a dip in the cool river didn't sound that bad at all

"We weren't really allowed growing up, swimsuits were always super revealin' so we just stayed inside most summers" You shrugged, a tiny smile on your lips as you recalled past memories with your sisters, even if it was just sitting inside trashing the kitchen. "We weren't even allowed to wear shorts that didn't stop at the knees"

It made sense, ever since the farm you, Beth, and Maggie had always been more modestly dressed then the rest, never wearing something too short even if it was the only option.

But even then, as long as your skirt as, Daryl still couldn't help himself from picturing the entirety of your bare legs, a shiver coursing through him as he tried to wipe the image away as quickly as it had come. You were sweet, almost too sweet for him. He was damaged and tainted, you were pure and holy.

"My moms used'ta watch me 'nd m'brother when we went to the river behind our house 'cause I ain't know how'ta swim as a kid" Daryl forced himself to say, tearing his eyes away from the dingy fabric and looking anywhere that just wasn't where you were.

Of course, it wasn't it that easy, especially when you giggled at his sentence which almost caused him whiplash from how hard he snapped his neck at you.

"Sorry, sorry. Just– You didn't know how to swim? Even I can swim" You covered your mouth as you spoke through your laughter, cheeks starting to hurt a little from how hard you were smiling.

Daryl scoffed, the sound of your giggles being music to his ears. "Laugh it up girly. Won't be funny when I throw ya' in a river"

You did laugh even harder at that, maybe because you knew it might be true. "It'll be hilarious! Even more because you'll be the one finding me a new outfit"

"Jus' a little water. S'not like yer damn skirt s'gon wash away" Daryl rolled his eyes, watching as you fake a look of offense.

"How do you know that? It just might! Then you'd have to cover me up" You folded your arms over your chest, quirking a brow at the older man as he glanced you up and down.

"Maybe I don' want to" He mumbled with a short shrug of his mouth

"What do you want?" You asked with a small tilt of your head.

Daryl's lips moved way faster then his brain, and he found himself suddenly muttering out "Wanna see wha's under tha' pretty dress"

You stared at him for a little, and he wished he could just bury an arrow in his head now, but then you chuckled a bit, nudging his arm with yours. "That's a sin, Daryl"

The two of you fell silent, your words lingering in Daryl's mind as he focused his gaze down on the floor, his ears perking slightly when they caught the gentle sound of your humming, some kind of song that he had surely never heard before.

He didn't wanna admit that your voice was soothing and melodic, it almost reminded him of his mother when she would cradle his trembling body in her arms, bruised and bloodied as the soft vibrations of her humming buzzed through him, comforting him as he softly sniffled into her chest, clutching onto her shirt and wondering what it was that made him so undeserving of God's–

"Help!"

The scream of terror rang out from the forest to the woods, and you all looked around at each other as your movements halted, everyone turning in the direction they thought the cry had come from with their weapons drawn, you subconsciously inching closer to Daryl for safety.

"Help, anybody! Help!" The cries came again, this time audibly and undeniably from the left side of the trees.

Rick nodded his head, gun drawn and pointed as he dashed off the road and into the forest, the group all following closely behind as the screams and pleads for help didn't cease, getting louder and closer which drew the attention of nearby walkers, having to dodge and take out any that got too close.

"Anyone, help! Help!"

As you all sprinted deeper into the trees, the sound of snarling and clicking teeth began to mix and become more audible, eventually leading the group out into a green clearing where there was a... pastor cowering ontop of a large stone rock, slipping off and making a half-ass attempt at kicking the walkers.

There weren't that many walkers, but it was still enough to where Rick felt firing his gun was necessary. The gunshots rang out through the forest, and you covered your ears at the loud noise, wincing slightly as it bounced around uncomfortably in your head.

Daryl took out the last straggler with a hard stab of his knife, wiping the thick blood off his blade on his pants before he slid it back in his holster, appearing at your side as he analyzed the pained expression on your face.

"Ya' alrigh'?" He murmered softly, hands hovering over your face but not quiet touching it, almost as if he was restraining himself.

You nodded, uncovering your ears and glancing at the pastor on the top of the rock, Daryl and everyone else following your gaze.

He whimpered softly and quietly from where he sat, eyes frantically darting between the all of you as if you all were the threat.

"Come on down." Rick said in a loud, stern voice, taking a few steps forward in front as the group took a few steps back.

The man rolled on his stomach and awkwardly wormed his way down grunting slightly and crying out when he slipped the rest of the way and landed on his ass.

A few giggles erupted from you and Maggie, stifling your laughter in the same way you've both always done by simply turning your heads away from the source of humor.

Rick didn't seem too entertained though, glancing the man up and down when he stumbled to his feet and dusted himself off. "You okay?" He raised a brow, emotion unmoving and flat.

"Sorry. Yes, thank you. I-I'm Gabriel." He stammered out, his lips pulling themselves into a small an nervous smile.

"Do you have any weapons on you?" Rick titled his head as he asked condescendingly, taking another step closer to 'Gabriel.'

The man in question chuckled slightly. "Do I look like I would have any weapons?"

"We don't give a rats flying fucking ass what it looks like." Abraham barked out, and you could only nod your head in agreement.

Gabriel mumbled out some kind of understanding before he put on his best brave face. "I have no weapons of any kind. The word of God is the only protection I need"

At that you scoffed, covering your mouth in a fake apology. "Oh sorry, just that, didn't really look like God was protecting you now was he?"

Gabriel smiled nervously and awkwardly at your words, his eyes taking in your attire and the sparkly cross around your neck. "Well, he led a woman of your nurture here, so that must mean something right?"

"Oh of course. It means that you have something we want" You spoke softly, yet your tone was oddly dark. It somehow flipped the aura surrounding the group, replacing it with a heavy presence that just couldn't be explained.

"I-I have nothing to offer. Whatever food I- I had left, it just hit the ground." He glanced down at the ruin pile of whatever it was he had.

Carl stepped forward, fishing something out his pocket and holding it out to the pastor. "We've got some pecans, sorry if you're allergic" He partially joked, taking a step back and behind his dad.

Gabriel thanked him, dumping a few into his mouth and chewing. Judith cooed sweetly from where she rested against Beth, the mans eyes softening as he spotted her. "That's a beautiful child," He said, glancing around at just how many of you there were. "D- Do you have a camp?"

"No. Do you?" Rick asked without hesitation.

"I have a church." Gabriel mumbled, and your ears perked up at the sound of that. Daryl also noted the way your face lit up, while his twisted in distain.

Rick stuck his gun in the waist band of his jeans, aggressively grabbing Gabriel. "Hold your hands above your head."

"How many walkers have you killed?" He questioned, roughly patting the man down in search for any weapons.

"Not any, actually." Gabriel answered nervously.

"Turn around." Rick commanded and he spun the man, continuing his thorough search. "How many people have you killed?"

"None." Gabriel said as Rick spun him back around, narrowing sharp, quizzical blue eyes at him.

"Why?" He almost hissed the words out, whispering them out through the skin of his teeth.

Gabriel was silent for a moment, glancing at all of you before back at Rick. "Because the Lord abhors violence."

"We've all done something, we were all born as sinners. Nobody's perfectly pure." You spoke up from where you stood behind Daryl, shaking your head slightly. Daryl could argue with your words that you were the most perfect damn thing he’s seen, but he forced himself to keep his mouth shut instead. You were pure and holy, he was damaged and tainted.

He looked at you, slightly taken aback. Rick finished his search by nodding in confirmation that he was clear, taking a step back from Gabriel but not too far.

"I sin almost every day," He murmured out after a moment, scanning you all once more before his lips shifted into another small nervous smile. "But those sins, I confess them to God, not strangers."

"You said you had a church?"

You sat outside on the church step with all the other women, plus Gabriel, while all the guys stormed inside to do a thorough search of the building, in search of any weapons or any other people. Although Gabe claimed it was just him and himself, Rick didn't believe him and didn't want to take any risks.

It was quite peaceful, birds chirping above with a slight breeze that brought a little bit of cooling relief from the burning sun. Judith cooed softly in Beth's lap, shaded from the sun courtesy of Carl's hat, too big to properly fit her head but big enough to cover her body.

"I spent months here without stepping out the front door." Gabriel's voice cut through the blissful silence, and you tried not to shoot him an irritated glare. Rick came out first, followed by Daryl and then Glenn. "If you found someone inside, well, it would have been surprising."

"We found a short bus out back." Rick said, hands on his hips as he squinted from the harsh glare of the sun. “Nothing else besides that. I think we can settle down here for a minute”

“Shit ain’t settled ‘till we get Eugene’s ass to Washington” Abraham’s voice barked from behind the man, Eugene and Rosita following suit.

Daryl stood on the step above yours, and you turned to smile softly at him as his large frame blocked the scorching light of the sun from spilling down onto you.

He scowled in response, but only because he didn't wanna make his cheeks any more red than they already were. He turned his head away and decided to just blame the burning sensation on the Georgia heat.

Rick shrugged his shoulders as he dismissed Abraham. "Yeah, well, people are exhausted. This place has four walls and a roof. Safe. In other words, we're staying here."

"Sounds pretty good to me, I've slept inside a chapel before," You said as you twisted your head to look at Rick, glancing inside the church to get a glimpse at the size inside. "Plus we can all fit in there, so why not? We could even do our own version of 'The Last Supper' but with squirrel meat" You added, gesturing towards the string of squirrels Daryl had managed to catch on the journey here.

"That kinda does sound good" Beth smiled as she bounced Judith on her leg, the thought of eating meat making her really hungry. "And we can have a bonfire! It'll be even better 'cause we won't have to sleep outside after we put it out" She gasped slightly when the idea crossed her mind, sitting up a little straighter as she talked about it.

Maggie smiled softly at the two of you as you both made light of the situation, grateful that you had always been able to see the bright side of things and just simply brush things off, sometimes falling and scraping your knee but getting right back up to walk it off.

Out of the three of them, you had always had a much stronger connection to God even as a child, sometimes walking right out of Sunday school because you claimed the teacher "silenced" his voice. Growing up, you only continued to believe more and more, so much to the point that it almost worried Maggie, like you could always see something that she couldn't.

There were times when she found herself a bit envious of you, especially when you both had reached your teen years, Maggie starting to take a dive at rebellion and you still as perfectly holy as you had been at age five, wardrobe consisting of nothing but your pristine white clothes, and the same faded white cowgirl boots daddy had bought for you a decade ago on Christmas. He had gotten you all a pair to wear around the farm when dealing and riding with the horses, you and Beth wearing yours down to absolute hell.

By the time you were both in your early twenties, petty rivalry put aside years later replaced by constant gossip and the latest guy Maggie was going out with, she realized that there was no reason to envy you, because she didn't wanna be you. You were pure, holy, and kept yourself high within your faith, studying the Bible in a way that she sometimes couldn't even wrap her head around.

"We need supplies, no matter what we do next" Rick spoke up as he glanced around at everyone, watching Beth pass over Judith to you to sit in the shade Daryl provided.

Glenn nodded in agreement. "That's right. Food, water, ammunition, anything we can find"

You quirked a brow at Gabriel, glancing him up and down. "How'd you survive here for so long?"

He jumped slightly at the sound of your voice and stuttered as all eyes landed on him. "W- Well, I had God protecting me"

"No, you didn't. God doesn't protect, he watches" You rolled your eyes at him, as if this wasn't common knowledge.

Gabriel was taken aback by your response, mouth slightly agape as he scrambled to find a different answer. "Our annual canned food drive, things fell apart right after we finished-"

"That's great 'nd all, but Rick, seriously, we're gon' get heatstroke s sittin' out here in the boilin' sun" Maggie cut the man off, fanning herself with both her hands even as she was pressed up against your side, trying to hog the shade that you were already sharing with Beth and Jude.

Carol nodded her head in agreement, also dripping in sweat. "Yeah. You said it was safe, so why aren't we inside yet?" She gestured to the church.

"Alright, alright. Everyone inside. Let's cool off and rest our feet. We can discuss what's next later." Rick nodded and propped the church door open so that the group could easily fit through with all their stuff and guns, loud clattering as these things were dropped on the floor.

You followed after Maggie as she helped Glenn haul a bag inside, holding Judith on your hip as she sucked on her tiny fist. The way you held her almost looked natural, as if she was your very own. Daryl tried to pry his eyes away, but he just couldn't. He was drawn to you in a way he couldn't understand.

It bothered him in a way, the world had ended and you treated every day as if it was just an average day, as if dead people walking around was nothing more but an inconvenience. You were a carefree and buoyant spirit, as if your mind was consistently clear and levelheaded.

But it also intrigued him, how somehow someway in a world plagued with darkness that forces people to be tough and hard, you still manage to be soft and dainty, as if the plague hadn't even touched you once.

There was a combination of walker blood and mud splattered all across your white dress, some of it on your sleeves and your face, yet it didn't make you look any less tender, especially now as you seemed to sit cozily in the nave of the church, bouncing Judith on your leg as you softly hummed her a song.

Inside the church was fairly big, the back of it containing a few large offices that Rick deemed the safest the camp out in for the night, explaining that the doors had locks and that if someone were to break in everyone would hear and have plenty of time to wake up, claiming that everyone could sneak out the back door or just fight if need.

"The food lasted a long time," Gabriel said once the large wooden door creaked shut, other members of the group finding a place to settle down. "And then I started scavenging. I've cleaned out every place nearby, except for one."

"What kept you from it?" Rick questioned.

Gabe shrugged. "It's overrun."

"How many?" Glenn pipped in from against a wall.

Gabriel slightly tilted his head in thought. "A dozen or so? Maybe more."

Rick scoffed, hands on his hips as he stared at the man. "We can handle a dozen."

"Bob and I will go with you," Michonne said calmly as she stepped forward. "Tyreese should stay here, help keep Judith safe."

"That'll be okay?" Rick glanced over to the man in question, who nodded his head.

"You ever need me to watch her, need anything for her, I'm right here" Tyreese said with a small smile.

The corner of Rick's mouth slightly quipped upward in a tiny smirk. "I'm grateful for it."

"I'll draw you a map–" Gabriel spoke up but was quickly cut off, "–You don't need to, you're coming with us." by Rick who shot him down with a cold icy glare.

It caught Gabriel off-guard and made his anxiety go through the roof. "I– I'm not gonna be of any help, you saw me up on that rock, I'm no good around those things." He stammered, trying to plead his case nervously under Rick's burning gaze.

"You're coming with us."

The sun had set long ago, and the inside of the church was lit up with a warm candle ambiance that fueled that lighthearted mood, everyone in the group chattering and laughing with one another for the first time in what felt like years.

"I'd like to propose a toast." Abraham loudly announced over everyone and all conversations ceased as the ginger easily captured all eyes in the room, raising his glass of wine that Gabriel had pulled from his own office.

"When I look around this room... all I can see is survivors." He said, scanning his eyes over the nave and everyone inside. "Each and every damn one of you has earned that title."

Abraham was silent for a moment, giving the room one last glance over before tipping his glass. "To the survivors."

"Survivors! Cheers!" You all said in unison, raising your glasses and clinking it against the person beside you, the church erupting back into its previous laughter as everyone resumed drinking and enjoying the night.

You scooted your way over to Daryl who was sat in a corner, purposely getting in his space and holding out your glass to him. "Survivors." You mumbled, a tiny smile tugging at your lips.

He glanced at you, a faraway expression on his face as he raised his glass to yours, mumbling out a soft,"Survivors" that was only loud enough for the both of you to hear.

"Now," Abraham said out loud once again, all eyes falling on him. "We get Eugene to Washington, and he will make the dead die, and the living will have this world again." He took a swing of his drink, raising his pinky. "And that is not a bad takeaway for a little road trip."

From where Judith sat snuggly in Rick's lap, she cooed and fisted some of his shirts in her small hands.

"Eugene, what's in DC?" The ginger questioned, all eyes now falling on the scientist for the answer.

He took a moment, clearing his throat before he spoke in his usual flat and unwavering tone of voice. "Infrastructure constructed to withstand pandemics even of this fubar magnitude, that means food, fuel, refuge."

"Restart," Abraham concluded, Eugene giving a short and curt nod at the response. "However this plays out, however long it takes for the reset button to kick in, you can be safe there. Safer than you've been since this whole thing started."

"Save the world for that little one, save it for yourselves. Save it for the people out there, who don't got' nothin' left to do except survive." Abraham spoke, his words of encouragement ringing out through the church's walls.

Judith cooed loudly as she squirmed in Rick's lap, and he smiled at her as he readjusted his grip on her tiny torso. "I think she knows what I'm about to say," Rick joked, managing a few laughs from people. "If she's in, then I'm in too."

"We're all in" Carol interjected, smiles spreading across everyone's faces as conversations and laughter began to fill the room again, people started to celebrate by drinking, clapping, and cheering, the energy in the room upbeat and positive. "Let's do it!" Abraham exclaimed, clearly now tipsier than everyone else as he raised his almost empty glass in the air one more time.

The once warm and cozy atmosphere that the church had inside during the earlier activities had been snuffed out long ago, leaving a cold and empty feeling inside the nave.

It wasn't literally cold, or maybe it was just the cigarette that was keeping Daryl warm, taking long drags from the small stick every minute or so. He couldn't be bothered to go all the way outside, and the natural glow of the moon seeping into the room was more than enough.

Plus, it's not like he was alone, considering that you were sitting in the aisle over from him with your head down.

It had been just the two of you in pure silence for about thirty minutes, and Daryl had only been staring at you for twenty. He tried not to, he really did, but it was hard for his eyes to peel away from the way your dress reflected the light, hands neatly folded together in your lap as hair spilled down your shoulders.

Because of the wine from earlier, there was a slight buzz that ran through Daryl's nerves that somehow encouraged him to stop staring and stand, making his way over to where you were sitting.

"Smoking is a sin, and so is interrupting my prayer," You said once he was sat a few inches from you, not even glancing up at him once.

Daryl let out a tiny scoff, taking another drag from his cigarette. "Yeah, well, s'gon fall on deaf ears anyway"

"Do you not believe in God?" You asked as you blinked your eyes, now turning your head to look at him with genuine curiosity etched on your features.

The man shook his head. "Ain't ever believed in no God," he said, pulling another hit and speaking around it. "Hell, ain't ever believed in nobody"

You sighed a little, leaning back against the bench. "God believes in you"

Daryl scoffed a lot louder at that. "Don' even believe in m'self"

"Well, I believe in you," You said with a shrug, scooting a bit closer to him to bump him with your elbow.

He grumbled as he bumped you back, more so pushing as he held his cigarette between his teeth. "Wha' else ya' believe in? Sandy Clause?"

You let out a small giggle at his butchered version of the fictional character. "Santa, and no, I don't. But I do believe that this is the next world though."

"Why? We ain't dead yet" Daryl analyzed you from the corner of his eyes.

You shook your head, "No, we're not. We never have been. Don't you see? This, this is the resurrection" waving your hands around for emphasis.

"I thought everyone was s'pposed ta' disappear or some shit?" He questioned and you rolled your eyes at him. "Oh come on, I thought you didn't believe in stuff like that. Did you also think that Jesus was gonna fly down from the sky and save us all?"

Daryl huffed as he took a long drag, getting more toward the last few puffs of his cigarette as he raised a brow at you. "Ain't that tha' whole point?"

"That's what people want you to think. They always talk about the resurrection and how Jesus will come back from the dead to save humanity from its wrongdoings, which is exactly what's happening now"

"Tha' hell ya' tryna' say, girl?"

"That God has a plan. He wants the world to be pure again, he wants us to be pure again"

At your words, Daryl scoffed, taking a long and final drag of his cigarette. "Well, m'not very pure unlike yerself" He said as he stomped out the butt of the remaining stick, crushing it under a muddy a boot.

"You're tainted, and its okay. No need to be envious of my non-sinning streak" You jokingly said, flipping your hair which got a tiny chuckle out the older man.

"Now I definitely don' believe ya' ain't ever committed no sin" He said, shaking his head.

You had a small smile playing at your lips, shrugging both shoulders as you looked at him. "I mean, technically walkers aren't people, so I don't really think I've killed anyone"

"Steal anythin'?"

"Thou shall not steal, Daryl. Plus, looting stores is only against the law"

"Well, everyone's told a lie"

"Oh, I'd never lie. The truth will set you free"

Daryl frowned at your words. "Yer startin' ta' piss me off, girl"

"I'm just not a sinner, Daryl. I was raised inside a church, so I spent all my time studying the bible and asking God questions." You said with a sigh, thinking back to when you were still a little girl.

"Wha' kinda questions?" Daryl asked, and you turned once again to meet his gaze.

"Well," You started, taking a moment to think before glancing back up at him. "I've always wondered if you commit a sin inside a church, if it still counts as a sin"

"How would ya' know?"

You shrugged. "I don't, I've never really had any sin to commit"

Daryl hummed, eyes flickering down to your plush lips, tracing the shape of them a few times before shifting his gaze back up to meet your eyes. "Lust is a sin"

"Now that's just unholy, Daryl" You scoffed at him, crossing your arms and turning your head away to hide the heat that rose to your cheeks, because lust was indeed a sin. "It's extremely important to save yourself for the person you're gonna marry. Sex is an emotional gift"

The man furrowed his brows, "How do ya' know tha' if ya' ain't ever fucked?" suppressing the shiver that ran through him at his own words.

Something dark twisted and turned in his stomach just thinking about the idea that you were just as pure as the day that you were born, and he tried not to think about the wildly dirty things he wanted to do to you that he knew would potentially leave a stain. You had probably never even thought of doing something like that, let alone with someone of his nature.

But you had, and you were right now, nervously and subconsciously squeezing your thighs together the more self-aware you started to feel within the older man's presence, feeling his eyes traveling over the length of your body. "I told you, I studied the bible. Sex is the connection of two people who are bound to one another for life, aka being married of course"

"Sex could also just be sex," Daryl shrugged, his brows unmoving as your words confusingly rang out in his ears. "Ain't much of a difference is there?"

You sighed, shaking your head at him. "Of course there is silly. When you're married, sex is a form of art and beauty, as well as conception. God intends for us to use our bodies as a way to communicate with our partner. Any other time, sex is just a form of escape and pleasure, abusing the gift that God has given us in a sinful way, or as you know, lust"

Daryl hummed as you simplified the words for him in a way that he still didn't necessarily understand, but he just decided to pretend like he did. "Ya' ain't ever go through hormones growin' up?"

"Are you asking if I get horny?" You let out a tiny giggle at how his eyes snapped to yours at the blunt question, his cheeks starting to tint pink as he grumbled and looked away. You laughed and wrapped your hands around his forearm, pulling at the man and trying to get him to look at you. "Don't get embarrassed! Are you?"

Unknowingly, you had instead pulled yourself a lot closer to Daryl, and when he twisted his head back in your direction, you were both face to face, noses almost touching.

Daryl stopped breathing for a few seconds as your doe eyes stared up at him, flickering down to where your fingers gripped what you now realized was his very muscular forearm. Sitting this close to him under his burning blue gaze made you feel a bit small, and made a funny feeling form in your lower stomach.

His own eyes flickered back down to your lips, finding himself using his other hand to brush some hair out of your face, curling his fingers at the back of your hand and cupping your cheek in a big, calloused palm, tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. "Maybe I am"

"This is God's house, Daryl." You muttered in a hushed whisper as you curled your fingers around his arm, trying not to downright melt into the warm touch of his hand.

"Think he's gon' watch us?" He whispered back, and your lower stomach tingled in a way that made your whole core heat up, feeling a mild throbbing sensation coming from your private area as you looked up at the older man, running his thumb over the edge of your jaw.

"I– I don't–" You stammered, shifting your eyes away from his as you found yourself at a loss for words.

"Said ya' always wanted ta' commit a sin inna church, righ'?" Daryl tilted your gaze back to his, stroking your cheek with a gentleness you didn't even know he could muster. "Might as well do the one tha' feels best"

"But I've never done something like this... Will it– Will it hurt?" You said as you searched his eyes, the blue orbs going soft and tender.

"M'not gonna hurt ya' at all sweetheart," He said in a genuine voice, holding your face a little tighter. He couldn't even imagine hurting something as dainty as you, especially not with the way you were looking up at him with curious and innocent eyes. "If anythin' I do hurts, tell me, alrigh'?"

You nodded, the corner of your lips twitching into a smile as it felt like there was an entire butterfly exhibit in your stomach, Daryl learning down into your space and first giving your lips a small peck, before pulling you completely flush by the back of your nape, a shiver running up your spine that went all the way down to your clothed cunt, legs squeezing together as Daryl deepened the kiss, your first and hottest kiss ever.

It made your head light and dizzy, leaving you starstruck and dazed when he pulled away with only a thin trail of saliva connecting your lips, Daryl brushing the skin of your cheek once again as you slowly blinked, still feeling airy from the kiss you just experienced.

"Do that again please" You murmured in a tiny plea, feeling both sets of your lips tingle in excitement at all the new sensations Daryl was showing you.

He pulled you in for a chaste peck, catching your bottom lip between his teeth. "Ya' like tha', pretty girl?" He mumbled the words against you, pressing another kiss to your plush lips and swallowing the tiny moan you let out.

You moved to wrap your arms around the older man's neck, Daryl now taking both his hands and gripping you by your waist, pulling a shocked gasp from you at the way his touch made your cunt ache. He carefully moved you to lay on your back, slotting a thigh between your legs and pressing the denim material against your soaked panties, a noise mixed between embarrassment and need coming from your throat.

It felt so good, and you found yourself trying to rut against Daryl's thigh as he started to kiss and suck at your neck, making you giggle slightly as the skin there was more ticklish than anywhere else. His body was big and warm as it was pressed on top of yours, feeling a pulsating sensation traveling through your nerves as you continued to needily hump his leg, whining softly as you tried to further fuel the feel-good moment you were having.

"Let m'help ya' out doll, jus' leave it all ta' me, gon' make ya feel real good" Daryl spoke the words from the underside of your jaw, kissing his way up to your lips before he leaned back, pulling his thigh back and leaving a hand on your hip, courtesy of your fingers scrambling to curl around his for comfort.

"I'm a bit nervous," You said, avoiding his gaze out of embarrassment as you spoke the words. "What if I mess something up?"

"Tha' ain't gon' happen, m'gon do all tha' work fer ya'" Daryl said as his hands moved down to your thighs, lifting and pulling your legs to circle his waist, a shrill shriek tearing out your throat as your dress started to slip down and pool at your waist.

It left your lower half completely exposed, and it was almost an instinct to drop your hands down to cover your panties, a hot blush painting over as Daryl gripped both your hands in one, moving them away and pinning them to your chest. "Nuh'uh, ya' ain't gonna hide from me, pretty girl"

You whined softly as he released your wrists, ducking his head down to kiss and lick your stomach, causing you to jerk from the wet muscle dragging across your skin. His fingers traveled down past the hem of your undies, pushing them midway down your thighs before sitting back up and lifting one of your thighs, yanking the flimsy blue fabric the rest of the way off and stuffing it in his back pocket, pulling you a bit closer as he licked his lips, eyeing the prettiest pussy he's ever seen.

You weren't exactly sure what to do with your hands, deciding instead to clench the cross around your neck in one and prop yourself up on the other, all this being so new and different, dirty and sinful, that you couldn't help but wanna watch.

Daryl placed a hand on your hip, the other moving to gather spit on his fingers. "Gotta get ya' stretched out so I don' hurt ya'"'

"Is this part gonna hurt? I've only masturbated once, but I was too scared to actually finger myself" You frowned a little, feeling your nerves spike as it started set really just how inexperienced you were.

Daryl leaned down and placed a soft peck to your lips, dipping his fingers into your cunt gently and rubbing the digits up and down your slit, pressing down against your clit and moving in a circular motion, his actions on the bundle of nerves sending shivers sparking up your spine, letting out a moan that was deep in your throat right against the older man's lips.

He let out a low chuckle, adding a second finger to his movement against your clit. "Doesn' hurt now, does it?"

You shook your head, body tingling in a foreign way that almost made you feel like you had been tased but in a good way, not that you've ever been tased before. The rough pads of his fingertips against your clit drove you absolutely crazy, the faster they moved the more you found your hips jerking down in a clumsy attempt to speed up whatever high it was you were riding right now, feeling better than you ever have in your whole life.

"There ya' go beautiful, c'mon, cum on m'fingers" Daryl murmured the words out, quickening his pace as he could feel your legs twitching around him, your whines and whimpers getting louder and louder. He spread your cunt lips apart more which revealed your raw clit more, a few harsh strokes to the small bud before you were biting down on your bottom lip and letting your head fall back, a shaky, pleased cry tearing out your chest as waves of electricity coursed through your entire nervous system.

Rather than pulling his fingers away, Daryl dragged them back down your now much more sensitive slit, this time slipping a single digit past your tight entrance, the feeling foreign and oddly unique. Daryl's finger was a bit bigger than average, so you could feel there was a slight stretch to your virgin hole.

Daryl could feel it too, as well as the way you experimentally clenched and convulsed around his stilled finger, giving you a few minutes to adjust to the new feeling.

When he began to slowly thrust the digit in and out, curling the tip of his finger each time in search of your sweet spot, carefully watching the way your face twisted and contorted.

"Ya' alrigh'?" He asked, starting to brush his thumb against the skin where he was gripping your hip.

You nodded, involuntarily clenching around him. "Yeah, it just feels really funny, maybe I just had my expectations too high," You said as you furrowed your brows, a bit upset that 'fingering' wasn't all you chalked it up to be.

"First finger ain't much, second one might feel 'bit different" Daryl said as he pulled the digit back, this time pushing back into you with both fingers, the stretch and drag of the two digits feeling agreeably more different than just one.

This time Daryl just kept up his steady pace, continuing to thrust and curl his fingers into your cunt, starting to scissor you further open. Your eyes trailed down to follow the movement of his other hand as he released his grip on your hip, beginning to undo the zipper of his jeans and shoving them halfway down, the first and biggest cock you've ever laid eyes on.

Your jaw went a little slack, scrambling to find words as you felt panic boil in your stomach. "That– That's not gonna fit!"

"Calm down doll, I swear yer'gon be jus' fine" Daryl murmured softly, reaching down to reassuringly press his forehead against yours, so close that your eyelashes were almost touching. "Told ya', m'not gonna hurt ya'. S'probably not gon' feel tha' best at first but it gets better, righ'?"

Taking his words into consideration for a minute, you nodded your head against his and let your eyes flutter shut as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips, followed by another, and then the feeling of his fingers slipping out of you.

It left you feeling oddly empty, but there was excitement building up as you watched Daryl spit on his cock, using it as lube as he dragged it up your already slick slit, pressing the tip into your hole and easily pushing past, the stretch of his cock slowly slipping into you a lot more painful than expected, your hands finding his forearms where he gripped your waist and squeezing them tightly, wincing slightly as you dug your nails into his skin.

Daryl caressed the skin of your waist with his thumb, trying his best to ease the discomfort he could see and knew he was causing you. "I know, I know, s'gon be alrigh' gorgeous, yer' alrigh'" He muttered, pulling his hips back and pushing them forward again, repeating the motion in long, deep strokes.

Whatever his method was, it was definitely working, each drag of his cock against your walls feeling better and better, your cunt only getting wetter and wetter which made it so much easier for Daryl to increase his pace, trying his best to restrain himself from completely plowing into you like he had been craving to do for days, weeks now.

He didn't wanna hurt you or go too rough, this was your first time for crying out loud, a sweet christian girl who hadn't even dipped her own fingers inside herself, and here he was, a grumpy tainted man who had somehow managed to stuff himself balls deep into her pure little pussy, hugging his cock in a warm, velvety hold that he just wanted to absolutely ruin.

He watched the way your eyes fluttered, soft moans coming from you as your face seemed to be pleasantly relaxed, the tight and fearful grip you once had on his arms now reduced to a lazy and content hold, fingers squeezed every once in a while when Daryl's cock would bump a rather sensitive nerve. "That actually feels good" You mumbled as a small smile twitched on your lips.

But Daryl knew how he could make it feel even better, and his restraint to hold back from completely plowing into you had run down to nothing, a sharp grunt leaving his throat when he snapped his hips forward, shoving the entirety of his cock into you suddenly.

You let out a surprised squeak at the action, Daryl's hands planting themselves awkwardly but firmly on the church bench, your own moving to keep yourself steady as he ducked his head down to begin sucking your neck, setting a rough and unforgiving pace.

"Oh my fuuuck" You moaned out in a shaky, pleased breath, fingers curling into the wood and your toes curling in your boots. It's like you were dancing on cloud ten, each hard bump of his tip to your cervix making your mouth practically water, sending bolts of lightning licking up your spine.

Daryl groaned into the skin of your neck, sucking and kissing against your pulse as he got lost in the warmth of your cunt. "Got such a perfect fuckin' pussy, love tha' s'all fer me"

You whined and couldn't help but clench around him at his words, a shudder running through you when you felt him start to speed up, pulling tiny moans out of your chest at every thrust.

Daryl muttered in a husky voice right by your ear, "Feels so fuckin' amazin' doll, so damn tight 'nd wet, might fuck ya' fer hours" grabbing you by the hip and pulling you impossibly further in his lap, driving his cock faster and deeper into your body, nailing your tender sweet spot dead on which caused you to let out a high pitch cry, Daryl muffling your sounds with a slow but sloppy kiss.

He slammed his cock right into the sensitive bundle of nerves, each thrust making you feel dizzy and lightheaded, knocking the air out of your lungs but it felt so good you couldn't even care, eyes starting to roll back when Daryl slid a hand down to roughly finger at your clit, the way he was stimulating your whole cunt making the entire room spin, a shaky, needy sob spilling pat your lips as your whole body was drowning in pulsing and throbbing tingles, Daryl placing another kiss to your lips as he only went faster.

"Ya like tha' huh m'lil sinner? Goin' against everythin' ya' stand fer, feels real good don' it?" He groaned the words out against your lips, and you downright whimpered at his words, heart pounding in your ears as he worked your clit, still ramming in and out of you at an animalistic pace. You couldn't think, and the only word you could muster was a small, broken "D-Daryl"

Your hips jerked down to clumsily grind against his fingers and his cock, needily chasing the building high of your second orgasm as it became difficult to keep your volume at a low, moans starting to tear themselves right out your throat.

Daryl reached an arm underneath your back and flipped you into a sitting position, straddling his lap with his fat cock now one hundred percent of the way buried inside you, so deep that you were convinced for a second that he was in your stomach. You draped your arms over his shoulders and muffled a lewd moan into his neck, the first thrust sending him deeper than ever.

He held you flush against him and bunched your dress up with one hand, and squeezed your hip with the other, letting out breathy, heavy moans of his own as he bounced you in his lap, the tight and slick drag of your raw cunt against his throbbing cock straight up addictive.

"So goddamn wet baby, ya' was saving this wet ass lil' pussy fer me huh, lil' devil?" As the man spoke, he sounded extremely winded, with deep and passionate huffs, you couldn't help but convulse around him at his words, a tiny noise leaving your lips as you clung to him tighter, whining as his hand on your hip pulled you even closer against his pelvis. "Fuck, so fuckin' perfect doll"

Only choked-off moans and whimpers came from you, trying to muffle your sounds into Daryl's neck as his cock shifted angles inside, driving himself right into a soft and squishy spot that made you mewl, the man holding you down as he continued to slam into that spot head-on. His thrusts were fast and unforgiving, fucking your cunt almost as if he hated you, but his grip was tight and protective, holding your body against his like he loved you.

Which he did, but he just didn't know how to say it. His only hope being that you could feel it in the way he fucked into you, hips starting to falter slightly as your tight cunt milked his cock, practically sucking him in and making it impossible for him to ever want to pull out.

From the way you had started to tremble and spasm around him, Daryl could tell that your orgasm was getting closer and closer, encouraging him to quicken his pace. “Gonna cum, pretty girl?” He murmured as he moved down to pepper kisses across your cheek.

“Yes! Oh my goodness yes” You moaned as your entire body pulsated, each bump of his tip to your cervix sending you further into bliss. Your arms dropped down and you curled your fingers into his sturdy shoulders for purchase as he relentlessly pounded your twitching pussy, keeping your limp body closely pressed against his.

Daryl could feel the boiling heat of his own orgasm rising in his gut, the wet and warm slide of your cunt against the throbbing pulse of his aching cock pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He hitched your dress up further as he adjusted his grip on you, speeding up his pace even more as he started to chase after his own relief, the squeeze of your soft and squishy walls practically making him drunk.

He groaned as electricity licked and burned through his veins, thoughts flashing and racing through his head. “Let me cum in ya’ doll. Gonna get ya’ nice ‘nd plumped up with a lil’ baby, huh?”

That sent tingles shooting down your spine, clenching down around his thickness at the words each time they rang out in your head. Growing up, all you've ever wanted was to have a sweet little baby of your own, and after unlocking such a world like this you couldn't possibly picture life without Daryl at your side.

"Please, please give me that" You almost whimpered as you trembled against his chest, heart pounding in your chest as a heat burned and built up in your stomach. You jerked your hips and made a clumsy attempt to rut down against him, but he tightened the hold he had on your lower half to stop your movements. "I've got ya' gorgeous, m'gon take care of ya', told ya' m'gon make ya' feel good"

Daryl readjusted his position, moving you to sit up properly and gripping you at the waist, pinning up your dress there as well as he started to bounce you in his lap, downright using your body as a sex toy as he plowed right into your sensitive sweet spot, pulling strained and guttural moans from your chest as you tried your hardest to keep your volume down as to not echo off the church's wall, biting back sobs as your hands found their way to Daryl's chest, fingers curling into the strong flesh as all the digits had a hot buzz to them, lungs suddenly not being able to take in any air as your stomach burned, toes curling in your boots and teeth clenching as a wave of scorching hot pleasure washed over your whole entire body, this time not being able to hold back the loud cry that tore it's way out your throat, uncontrollably convulsing around his cock as he thoroughly fucked you through your orgasm, muffling your pleased moans with a messy kiss.

With the way your now overly sensitive cunt squeezed and roughly gripped his pulsating dick, Daryl wasn't far behind in his orgasm, grunting into your mouth as his hips stuttered inside you, cock twitching eagerly as he pumped his load deep into the warmth of your heat, Daryl slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressing it up against yours.

When he pulled away, you were nothing but a puddle of pure jelly, going limp in his grasp as he wrapped a secure arm around your middle, moving to kiss and suck your neck as he covered you back up by dropping your dress, deciding he wanted to stay wrapped inside you a little longer.

"Are you gonna give me my panties back?" You questioned from where you now rested against his shoulder, eyes following the older mans movement as he flicked his lighter, holding the flame up to a new cigarette.

The tip burned red as he took the first and long drag, blowing the smoke up in the air and holding the cigarette away from you by stretching his arms across the bench, humming softly as if taking a moment to think. "Nah"

You pulled back from his chest and gawked at him. "No? There'll be a sticky mess between my legs in the morning!"

He smirked at you, showing a sliver of his porcelain teeth as he did. "Tha's the point, lil' sinner, yer gonna be feelin' me fer days"

The nickname made you blush, turning your head away from the man as you also considered his words, a part of you wanted to feel and experience it all over again, almost arguably a divine slice of heaven itself, and you wanted to taste it once again.

"Well you should never commit a sin twice" You mumbled instead of your real thoughts, cheeks now starting to heat up from embarrassment and a bit of shame, Daryl's cock still buried inside you as a reminder of what you had just done, a reminder that the purity and sacrality you had been preserving for your future man had been completely stripped by another.

Unless, Daryl was your future man, clenching down around him as he took another drag of his cigarette, placing a hand back over your now-covered hip, traveling up to your waist, and squeezing the flesh there. He wasn't the God-fearing, clear-minded, faithful man you had dreamed about as a little girl. Still, he was the strong, protective, and leaderful man that you had dreamed about as a young woman, the man you dreamed of to provide for you and the home you built for another, to protect and preserve the family he's made.

His hand grazed your jaw, fingers caressing your cheek and tracing over the shape of your lips. With his gentle and soft touch, you could feel each blister and callous formed on his hands, the rough feeling of hard work against your skin causing goosebumps.

"Somethin' bad gon' happen ta' us?" He questioned, talking around an exhale of smoke as he did.

"We'll go to hell, Daryl!" You rolled your eyes at him.

He lazily shrugged a shoulder, staring at you with searching eyes. "We'll go together"

Your mouth gaped at his words, stammering as you struggled to find your own. "W– Well I'd much rather prefer we go to heaven together"

"They not gon' let me in" Daryl scoffed slightly as he spoke.

"Not when you commit sins like lust, Mr. Tainted" You flicked his forehead, and he grumbled swatting your hand away, rubbing the reddening skin.

"Ain't my fault, Mrs. Holy, yer' dress leaves little ta' tha' imagination" He muttered, and your eyes widened at his words.

"Are you– My dress goes to my flipping ankles!" You picked up some of the pooled dingy fabric, tugging on it for emphasis.

Daryl shrugged again at that, his eyes now traveling the length of your body where you sat still in his lap. "Don' matter, ever since I saw tha' pretty lil' face I've wanted ta' see the rest of ya', 'nd I ain't disappointed"

You scoffed in disbelief, turning your head in an attempt to hide the heat rising to your face, speaking in a hushed whisper. "My gosh, you speak such foul words in such a sacred place"

"We jus' fucked" Daryl said bluntly, taking another drag from his cigarette as he watched you snap your neck back to him, mouth slightly agape as you scrambled for words. "Y– Yes. But, that doesn't mean you have to talk like that in God's house"

At that, Daryl's cock twitched inside you, a smirk taking over his lips "Ya' said tha' same thing before m'tongue was down yer' throat"

"Daryl!" You hissed, the man chuckling as he gripped your hip and moved to kiss at your already marked-up neck, the weight of your faith starting to weigh heavy as you felt Daryl's cock hardening to life against your walls. "Fornication is straight up breaking the laws of God. We can't– I can't do this again"

The smell of cigarettes and sex painted the church air as you planted both hands on Daryl's chest, pushing yourself up and slowly off his dick with a restrained groan, turning into a sharp gasp when the elder pulled you back down, flush against him.

"Think fornica-whatever s'allot more than jus' sex, 'cause I don' have a problem makin' ya' mines" Daryl mumbled the words into your hair, holding you to his chest with one arm and stubbing out his cigarette in the wooden bench with the other. "God can't stop me from wantin' ya', can he?"

"He can, if you don't truly want me" You muttered into his shirt, and could feel the rumble of his short laughter through his stomach. "'S'good tha' I've wanted ya' fer a while then"

You sighed as you pushed yourself up to meet his gaze, eyes sharp and focused on yours as you moved. "It's more than just want, marriage is a life-long commitment, spiritual and eternal, it's about your faithfulness and loyalty to the person you love, the person you wanna become one body with, share your body with. That's why it's important to save yourself for marriage, to keep yourself pure and clean for the one you want to share it with"

"Aren't we one righ' now?"

"I– I mean– yes, but n– not in the way God intended for us to be–"

"–Why? 'Cause we ain't married? Pretty stupid if yer' askin' me"

He took your left hand in his, bring it up to his lips and placing soft kisses on your delicate fingers, lips lingering against your ring finger.

"Don' need no God ta' tell m'tha' I do or don' love ya', 'cause I know I do, dammit woman, loved ya' since I met ya' on yer' daddy's farm" Daryl scoffed as he finally spoke his feelings into the air, listening to himself and how ridiculous he sounded.

You listened intently, staring at him with glossy eyes as he spoke, your lips twitching and tugging into a tiny smile.

A provider, a protector, a man, a real man, was what Daryl Dixon was, the type of man that you thought could only ever exist in your head and bible, yet here he was, clinging to you and holding you close to him, pressed tightly against and in you, so tight that it felt like you'd just melt right into him at any second, his heart beating erratically in his chest, so much that you could feel it against the beat of your own heart.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" You whispered, watching how Daryl's eyes shifted away from yours in the embarrassed way that they always did. "Tell me!"

The man grumbled as you grabbed his face and shook his head, forcing his gaze back on you as he pulled your hands away with his, dropping them down to his chest and holding them there. "I didn' think ya'd want someone like me"

"What? Someone unholy?" You tilted your head slightly at him.

He shook his head, fingers squeezing your wrists. "Someone damaged"

"Damaged? You aren't damaged, Daryl. You're just tainted" You furrowed your brows, frowning slightly at his words.

"Ya' always say tha'" He mumbled, and you sighed. "Because there's no other way for me to put it. You're just a corrupted soul, but that doesn't mean you're a bad person"

He stared at you, licking his lips as he looked at your own, his cock twitching back to life again. "Even if I wanna corrupt ya' too?"

"And how exactly would you do that?" You laughed, but couldn't ignore the heat starting to pool in your gut, feeling a familiar buzz in your fingertips as Daryl ran his hands up your thigh, bunching the fabric of your dress all the up past your tits, a sharp gasp leaving your lips as the cold air hit them, the older man pulling you close and popping one of your tender nipples into his mouth, rocking his hips to full hardness. "M'gonna slut ya' out, pretty girl. Gonna turn ya' into my sweet lil' sinner, a little holy fuckdoll"

"I'm not a sex toy" You whined as he dragged his tongue across your boobs, involuntarily clenching around him as you tried to defend yourself, but Daryl laughed lowly as he trailed his lips up to the skin of your neck, kissing his way up to your ear and taking the lobe between his teeth. "Not yet, gorgeous, not yet"

GUYS. GUYS I HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH ANY OF THIS I SWEAR.

I can't believe its done??? I've snipped so many snippets, cut so much out, stared at it for so long, and now its done (after a few decades) so I hope that everyone who I hyped up for this fic was satisfied and it was everything that I had made it out to be

Anyways this fic wouldn't have even existed without @tylermaxxine the local instigator and chronic coffee chugger

[daxisyzz]

Shut your pretty little mouth

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Enemies-to-Lovers)

Summary: Forced to share a safehouse after a mission goes sideways, you and Bucky finally act on years of tension and mutual annoyance. But when you return to the compound, you discover a very public problem: the comms were never turned off.

Warnings and tags: Language, suggestive content, one-bed trope, enemies-to-lovers, implied smut, comms left on, team hearing everything, banter, fluff, embarrassment.

Word count: 1k+ words

Based on this prompt by- @creativepromptsforwriting

"I need you to shut your pretty little mouth for just one second."

A/n: well I tried writing something close to smut. Just don't expect me to write the real stuff. 500 followers special.

You shoved open the door to the safehouse, rain-soaked and fuming. Bucky followed close behind, equally damp, equally pissed off.

"You were supposed to take the left flank!" you snapped, throwing your bag on the rickety table by the window. "Not go full lone-wolf Winter Soldier!"

"You’re welcome for saving your ass back there," Bucky grunted, shrugging off his jacket. It hit the floor with a wet thud.

"Saving? You blew our cover!"

"You screamed at the guy, [Name]. Loudly. In a warehouse. With echoes."

You glared. "It was a distraction."

"It was stupid."

The tension crackled like a live wire. You had always butted heads with Bucky—from the moment you joined the team, something about him lit a fuse in you, and vice versa. He was infuriating. Condescending. And...hot as hell, which only made things worse.

He stomped into the single bedroom. You followed a beat later, coming to a full stop in the doorway.

"You have got to be kidding me."

"One bed," Bucky muttered, rubbing a hand down his face. "Of course."

You scanned the tiny room. No couch. No second mattress. Just one well-worn queen-sized bed.

You turned to him. "I’ll take the floor."

"No. You won’t."

"It’s not a debate."

He looked you up and down, eyes stopping at the bruises already forming along your skin. "You’re injured. You’re taking the bed."

You scoffed. "What, suddenly chivalrous?"

He didn’t reply. Just grabbed a pillow and blanket and threw them down on the floor. As he started arranging his little nest, you sighed. The fight had drained out of you, replaced by aching limbs and soaked socks.

You flopped onto the bed. "Fine. But don’t complain when your spine turns to dust."

He grunted something unintelligible.

A long, uncomfortable silence settled in, broken only by the occasional creak of the floorboards as you both adjusted.

"Why do we always fight like this?" you muttered after a while, staring at the ceiling.

He hesitated. "Because you’re loud."

You smirked. "And you’re uptight."

"You drive me insane."

"You make me want to scream."

He sat up, exasperated. "I need you to shut your pretty little mouth for just one second."

You blinked. Slowly turned your head toward him. "You think I’m pretty?"

His eyes narrowed. "That’s what you got from that?"

You grinned. "Admit it. You want me."

He huffed a dry laugh. "I want to throw you out the window."

"You almost kissed me on the Rome mission."

"I was trying to save your life. It was CPR."

"With tongue?"

His hands braced on the edge of the bed. He loomed over you, eyes dark.

"You really want to go there?" He asks now standing close to you.

You rose onto your elbows. "I dare you."

The distance vanished. He kissed you like it was inevitable—like it had been coming for years. Your hands flew to his hair, his to your waist, and then neither of you were thinking anymore.

Clothes were lost in between breathless gasps and whispered insults turned confessions. Your name spilled from his lips like a prayer, rough and reverent. The world narrowed to the heat of his body and the scrape of his stubble and the way he whispered, "I hate how much I want you."

By the time you were tangled in the sheets, bodies still humming, exhaustion finally pulling you down, you didn’t even hear the soft click of the comms activating in Bucky’s half-unzipped tactical belt on the floor.

Avengers Compound - 4:36 AM

Steve blinked groggily at the screen in the mission control room. He and the rest of the team had been monitoring your safehouse channel on standby, expecting a quick check-in or maybe some grumbled complaints.

What they got instead was...Moaning.

"Is that... [Name]?" Sam asked, slowly setting down his protein bar.

"Oh my God," Nat whispered, eyes wide.

Tony practically sprinted into the room, coffee sloshing. "Did someone turn on a soap opera in here?"

From the speakers: “You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“Yeah? You like it.” moan

Steve slammed a hand on the console. "Turn it off! Turn it off!"

Bruce, red-faced, fumbled with the controls. "I—I can’t find the channel mute—"

"Oh my God," Steve said, turning away and squeezing his eyes shut. "They left the damn comms on."

"Barnes, you dog," Sam muttered, equal parts amused and horrified.

"I need to bleach my brain," Steve mumbled.

Tony sipped his coffee, smirking. "This is going on the Christmas party slideshow."

The next morning, you and Bucky arrived back at the compound, freshly showered, wearing matching looks of reluctant truce. Something had changed. You both felt it. The silence between you wasn’t bitter anymore—just full of loaded glances and unspoken words.

As you stepped into the briefing room, you froze.

Everyone was already there.

And everyone was staring at you.

Steve looked like he had experienced the war again. Sam raised his brows. Natasha was biting her lip to hold back a grin. Bruce refused to make eye contact. And Tony... Tony was holding a remote.

You blinked. Bucky stiffened beside you.

"So..." Tony said, clicking the remote.

Suddenly, the room filled with audio.

“You gonna beg for it?”

“Shut up and come here.”

You froze.

"Tony!" you screeched.

He paused the recording with theatrical flair. "You left your comms on. For three hours."

You turned to Bucky, smacking his arm. "I told you to turn them off!"

"I thought I did!"

Natasha finally broke into laughter. "That was the best debrief I’ve ever sat through."

Steve groaned. "I’m going to need therapy."

Sam gave you both a slow clap. "Well. Guess the sexual tension’s officially resolved."

Bucky turned bright red. You covered your face.

Tony raised his cup of mimosa. "To new beginnings. And reminder to turn off your comms."

Bucky leaned down and whispered in your ear, "Next time, we use hand signals."

"Next time?"

"Well that will be a while until Steve recovers," Bucky whispered.

You couldn’t help but laugh. Then again, after last night, you figured he’d be good with his hands.

[mistywaves98]

Stalker! Scara and his unsuspecting classmate/friend, you

Just something I had in my head for a while that I just poured out into a post. These lil headcanons don't really flow properly either 😭

¡Warnings!: Suggestive (?), Reader is painfully oblivious, Can be read as yandere scara, Stalking, Taking nonconsensual photos, General creepy behavior!

Stalker! Scara who's had his eyes on you for a long time, longer than you could've imagined all while you're completely oblivious to it. Or maybe he's just that stealthy?

Stalker! Scara whose room is so untidy. Dirty laundry, empty noodle cups and snack wrappers line the floor of his messy man cave. But he still keeps his mini shrine dedicated to you completely clean and flawless.

Stalker! Scara who has an entire wall dedicated to you. The left side is the gallery of pictures he's meticulously cumulated over multiple months while the other is shelves of stuff you've either touched or he sneakily 'borrowed'.

Stalker! Scara who has a collection of the most random things because it has some sort of connection to you. Be it a pen you used to chew the end of or a piece gum you've chewed, or even a tissue you blew your nose in.

Stalker! Scara who works his ass of at a measly part time job in a convenience store near campus just to have money he can spend on you. Coincidentally, it happens to be the same one you frequent a lot.

Stalker! Scara who has most definitely stolen some bills from the register, particularly the ones you had given him to pay for your items one day. Just another addition to his ever-growing collection.

Stalker! Scara who somehow happens to wherever you are on campus, seemingly doing his own thing on his phone. But in reality he's just trying to get perfect angle of your ass as you bend over to pick up something you dropped.

Stalker! Scara who initially joined the photography club out of school obligations but now uses it as an opportunity to enhance his photo-taking skills to get better pictures of you instead of the blurry, barely visible ones he had clumsily taken in the beginning of his little obsession.

Stalker! Scara who's got his hands on every piece of personal information about you that he can find. Be it your birthday, your relationship with your family, your favourite song, a place that you frequent, or maybe even a particular brand of clothes that you buy.

Stalker! Scara who always makes sure to send some sort of gift for you on any remotely special occasion. Sometimes it's a bouquet of your favourite flowers, an item you had been eyeing in the shops for a while or perhaps something more daring like a pair of lacey panties he would die to see you in. Those risky gifts are always sent anonymously, leaving you quite puzzled.

Stalker! Scara who always keeps track of your schedule, having all your planned events on his calendar so he can keep an eye on your every move.

Stalker! Scara who somehow finds himself on every bus that you're taking whenever you're going into town, gaze fixated on you from afar. He can't help but wipe the drool off his chin as his eyes notice the way your breasts and thighs jiggle with every bump in the road.

Should I make pt 2?

[madamechrissy]

Fractured Desires

ꕥ Pairings: Suguru Geto x Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader It's a mess tbh lol

ꕥ Warnings-MDNI-explicit sexual content, threesomes/ foursomes/ complicated shit, infidelity and confusion. Angst and smut and yandere Gojo behavior. There is some physical description of the readers height/body, don't read if too unimmersive for you) this chapter- Cunnilingus, rough sex, infidelity, dirty talk, objectification, manipulation, Sugu is a hoe and awful (sry) Toru is a toxic hottie

ꕥ Word Count this chap- 10.5k

ꕥ Summary- You meet Suguru Geto at your work, he is charming, gorgeous, and has a poly lifestyle. You jump in, and you all share women and have way too much fun. But then it's starting to get serious between you, official even. He can't wait to have you meet his best friend. But... Satoru Gojo hates you. The minute you meet. He gives you no reason, but he's nasty to you, no matter what you try. Suguru finally has enough of Satoru being so mean and brings up the idea - 'let's have you two fuck this frustration out'

Satoru hates you because deep down wants to make you his. He doesn't even understand how Suguru could ever want anyone but you. Though it's a horrible idea, he agrees to share you with Suguru for a chance to touch you and... The moment he touches you...Rules are bent and broken, Suguru develops feelings for another girl, and Satoru gets further obsessed with you, while you're left confused... will everyone get hurt?

Chapter 2 - Masterlist

Chapter 3

Satoru's POV

Sugu walks him in, and Shoko comes up to Satoru then, shoving at him playfully. Satoru smiles, hugging her tightly and making her wriggle.

“Miss me much?” He teases, she scoffs but hugs him back.

“A bit, maybe.” Satoru snorts, rolling his eyes, then Shoko snatches you by the hand, pulling you to her. “Heard you all are kind of friends now huh?”

“Nah, I still hate her.” Satoru comes and pats you on the head, making you scowl up at him.

“They’re bonding.” Suguru says, and Shoko laughs, shaking her head, brushing back her amber locks.

“That’s on par with Gojo, the hate love thing.” Shoko shoves at Satoru again, and he laughs, brushing his hair back, sliding off his shades then.

“No love here.” Satoru says, and he watches you falter a bit, fuck why are you always just ruining him by existing?! Would you just… not be so beautiful, not smell so good, not be so fucking perfect.

He watches Suguru kiss on Shoko’s neck and cheek then, and scowls angrily, because he literally can’t stand the fucking thought of how Suguru doesn’t appreciate you enough. You sip your drink, and Shoko pulls you to her, kissing on your cheek sweetly. At least Shoko pays attention, considering Suguru seems to be content.

“Let’s play a game, hmm?” Suguru mentions, finally brushing your hair back, but he has a hand on Shoko’s hip. Satoru remembers how bad he had it for her way back in high school. When Satoru looks at you, you’re staring right at him, desire stark on that pretty face.

Fuck.

You ruin him with a look.

“What kind of game, hmm? Are we going high school spin the bottle?” Shoko asks, grabbing her pack of cigarettes then.

“Pretty much, truth or dare but with alcohol.” Satoru rolls his eyes as Suguru speaks.

“Truth or dare, so high school. It’d be almost like a reunion, except short stuff here.” Satoru pats your head again and you smack at it.

“Sorry I’m not freakish tall!”

“Freakish! You’re so-”

“I’m going for a smoke first!” Shoko waves, and Suguru laughs.

“I’ll join you.”

He follows her out, and Satoru watches your eyes narrow as they walk to the balcony together, shutting the glass doors with the blinds. Satoru comes up to you, hands on your teeny waist, and you can’t stop the moan escaping from your pretty lips, eyes shutting for a moment.

“He like that with the other girls?” Satoru murmurs, leaning close, one hand on the kitchen counter as he grabs you tightly. Your eyes meet his, and you shake your head slowly.

“No, not like this. Usually more included. But…” You look up at him, running your hand up Satoru’s torso, and he trembles at your touch, cock rock hard just from that. You make him so pathetic. “You’re here now, aren’t you?”

“Think I’ll keep ya company huh?” He teases, and you nod shyly, but something in your eyes has shifted. “One time fucking me and you’re wrecked.”

“Shut it, Satoru.” He smirks down at you, caressing your face with the backs of his fingers, feeling the softness of your skin.

“Nah, you’re happy I’m here. Admit it.”

“Yes, but fuck off also.” He laughs then, and you tilt your head, smiling up at him a bit, an upturn of your lush lips, making his heart falter.

“So you and Sugu don’t play alone, right?”

“Um. He has but he videoed it.” Your brows draw together a bit.

“So do we do that? Video me fucking your brains out, I mean.”

“What!”

“Mmhmm. Why not.”

“You’re… I… that seems…” You just trail off, then your pretty cheeks turn bright pink, making you look even more precious.

“You love that idea. Bet you never came so hard.” Now you are bright red, eyes just fixated on his chest, until he cups your face and directs your gaze up to his. Your pupils are already dilated so big it’s intoxicating. “Lie to my face, pretty.”

“Pretty, huh? You’ve changed a lot. Pussy that good?” You demand, and his heart slams in his chest, his thigh slipping between yours, as you both hear Shoko and Suguru laughing out back at something. How could Sugu just leave you here, especially with him?

A fucking mistake.

You cry out, biting your lower lip, as Satoru’s strong thigh slips between your lush ones, and he feels that heat radiating from you, and he pushes even more, as you shift your hips up, whimpering, your eyelashes fluttering. Fuck he could take you right here, lick that perfect pussy on this counter, bury his cock to the hilt, feel you cumming all over him.

He grips your hair, yanking it back, while his other hand grabs an ass cheek, up under your little dress. “So desperate, you’ll just grind on my leg. Pathetic.”

“Fuck you, Satoru.” But you do it again, your little hands clinging to his shirt, and he feels it then.

“Soaked. From nothing.” He was hard from nothing, but he loves to get that reaction, that glare on that usually sweet face, fuck you melt him. “You’re so easy for me, are you this way for him?”

“Shut up. Ugh.” You pull back, but he presses you down, holding your ass with both hands now, and you can’t stop the moan that breaks out.

“Bet I could get you off just like this.” He whispers, lips just a breath from yours, and he can taste you, your sweetness. You bite that lower lip to death, you always do, your brows drawing together in pleasure.

“You don’t act like you hate me at all.” You whisper, he sighs then.

“I do hate you. So much. Hate how you’re looking at me.”

Satoru does hate it.

He hates your dazed out eyes, it kills him.

“Kiss me.” He blinks, confused and you yank him by his shirt.

“Kiss you?” You nod, and he doesn’t need to be told twice, because fuck, he’s dying to taste you again, to feel you, to picture those lips are his and his alone.

Satoru slams his mouth to yours, kissing you so hard your teeth clink together, moaning into your mouth, sliding his tongue in and possessing it when you gasp. His hand cups your face, and fuck if your moans and your taste didn’t make him stupidly hard, so hard it hurts. He lifts you then, kissing you over and over, hungry, and you just fall apart in his arms.

“Such a slut. Aren’t you?” He says, meanly, and you just whine, grinding on him, soaking his pants, and Satoru is losing any sense of control. It takes everything in him not to slide into that little cunt.

“Sh-shut up.” You mumble, stuttering as your eyes roll back, as your head lolls to the side, and he starts kissing up the side of your neck, sucking then, your hands grip his hair, little body arching up for more.

You both hear it then, the door opening, and you jerk back, eyes wide on his, lips reddened from his kisses, eyes blown out. Satoru eases his thigh from it’s spot and you fucking whine so sexy he has to turn away for a moment, to breathe, to try to focus. He wants it to be just you two, he doesn’t know if he can handle it again, but maybe he could make you see.

That you deserve to be worshiped by him . And him alone.

But he won’t get to, will he?

And so he tries to hate you. But how can he hate someone who tastes so fucking sweet on his lips?

Your POV

Your cunt is just dripping, as you look up at this tall, white haired demon that has some insane effect on your body, on your mind. His blue eyes are dilated to pinpoints, as he runs his hand through those silky locks, gaze firm on your lips, before drifting down to your breasts. You embarrassingly notice that you’ve made a wet spot on his leg and panic then.

He looks down, grinning however, then knocks your cup over as Shoko and Sugu get to the kitchen. “Shit, clumsy brat! Y’know how expensive these pants are!?”

You realize then, Satoru is covering for you, and you bite back a laugh, because fuck he’s thrilling, everything about him. “Shit, I’m so clumsy, ugh sorry!”

“Spilling drinks, that’s a party foul!” Shoko yells out, and you giggle out loud at that, trying to catch your breath from that kiss.

There’s something so… different about it. You can’t fucking describe. It almost terrifies you. And as you see Shoko and Suguru so close when they walk in, Suguru just so absorbed, it makes you wonder. Did Suguru just invite Satoru so you would be occupied and not feel so left out?

You’re frowning, and Satoru notices, while Suguru’s nuzzling Shoko’s neck until she shoves at him, glaring then. “What?”

Suguru notices you then, and his brows draw together, when he sees the confusion in your gaze. You and Satoru are sneaking kisses as Suguru is clearly flaunting how much he wants to be near Shoko. He clears his throat, smiling and walking up to you, pulling you against him, but you’re tense in his usually comforting hold.

“He annoy you too much, Princess?” Suguru’s lips descend but you turn your head a bit, and they end up on your cheek. You smell Shoko’s cigarettes on his breath, and then you know.

But you’d done the same, hadn’t you?

“What’s wrong, baby?” Sugu looks at you, concern in his warm gaze, and you shake your head, sighing.

“Nothing. It’s all good.”

“Let me make you a new drink to spill on Satoru, hmm?” You nod, smiling a bit, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Satoru’s gaze locks on yours, and it’s like he’s caressing you, making you ache, throb, the way he looks like you’re the only girl in the fucking world.

“You look so pretty today.” Shoko comes to you then, kissing your cheek, and you smile, kissing hers back.

“So do you!” You ease a bit, Shoko is amazing and you all had a lot of fun, she was very respectful too. It wasn’t her fault Suguru clearly…

“So, truth or dare, Suguru?” Satoru asks, as Suguru pours everyone a glass of a fancy blush wine. Suguru stands next to you, one hand around Shoko’s waist though, the other holding his glass.

“Truth.”

“Mmkay, who do you want right now?” Satoru asks, and your eyes go wide, mouth opening at it. It grows tense, as he leans against the island, just smirking like the little shit he is.

“Satoru… you’re such a dick.” Shoko says, and he scoffs, as he yanks her against him, her back pressed to his chest.

“Yeah, yeah, wait what I got for you.” He smacks a kiss on her cheek, and she grimaces, rubbing it off, making him laugh.

Suguru is tense, and you look up at him, studying the set of his firm jaw as he just looks away then, at nothing. You expected him to say you, right? You all date… even if Sugu played, he’d always put you first. But, he doesn’t answer, instead he sips that wine for a moment.

“Asked you a question. You’re not playing the game right.”

“Well, I don’t want you Satoru.”

“Breaking my heart!” Shoko laughs, but you’re just looking at Suguru, and finally he clears his throat, smirking.

“I want both of you ladies. Sorry Satoru.” He tries to make it a joke, as he winks down at you, but your heart crushes, you are sitting here feeling horrible for wanting Satoru, when Suguru couldn’t even say he wants you .

You could have gotten over it if you didn’t know what it was like to have someone clearly obsessed with you, the fucking high of Satoru pushing cum in you, and it was all you could think of all night. The way he just looks at you, the man that ‘hates’ you, was addicting in itself, and it starts to shatter what you thought you had.

“Princess…” Suguru looks down, kissing your forehead then. You can’t take it though, you sip your drink and don’t even acknowledge him. “You know I think you’re so beautiful.”

“Yep. Thanks.”

“You’re my favorite.” He whispers, but you tense.

“Can’t say it out loud?” Your eyes lock, brows raised, and Suguru blinks, surprised at you apparently.

“When did I say that I wouldn’t? Do you just want to…”

“Truth or dare, Shoko.” You say then, loud enough to break the tension of the room, and Shoko and Gojo are shoving each other, him putting her in a headlock, clearly they were friends, and it was actually cute to see. You ignore Geto’s glare, boring into your face.

“Shit, off me dickhead!” She shouts, and he grins, letting her go, and then she straightens that pretty hair, smiling. “Go for it, babes.”

“Dare you to kiss Suguru.” You say, and now Suguru is really scowling, but you couldn’t fucking care less, and Satoru smirks right with you over the wine glasses. Shoko looks down for a moment, taking a sip.

“All right, let’s do it.” She comes up to Suguru, tiptoeing, and his big hands are on her slender body as he pulls her against him, and their lips meet. You turn to pour some more wine in your glass, and Satoru casually joins, sticking out his glass, as you hear Shoko’s little moan, and the smacking of their lips.

“You’re a little bitch, I’m so surprised.” Satoru murmurs, and you stick your tongue out, making him chuckle, your fingertips touch as you top his glass off, and you peek over, to where Suguru has Shoko lifted, clearly invested in the kiss. “How could he see anyone but you?” His whisper tears through you, and you open your mouth to say something as Shoko and Suguru separate.

You don’t even acknowledge it, the blatant desire that maybe last time you’d been too drunk to see, or perhaps it had been ignited from last time. It had been the only time you’d felt weird about sharing Suguru. But honestly, you knew him for a few months, he’d known Shoko forever, of course he’d pick her.

“Princess… wanna talk?” Suguru’s whispering in your ear, it’s not the same as Satoru’s nasty words, it’s like this…

Does he feel sorry for you?

Your mind whirls with self doubt, as you struggle to act nonchalant. “Why, we’re having fun right?” You sip your drink. “Who’s next hmm?”

“I’ll ask you, truth or dare?” Suguru says softly, and you tense just a bit, looking up at him.

“Dare, why not.”

“Dare you to kiss Shoko.” You smile and walk to her, and she grabs your waist, kissing you softly. Your lips press together, tongues teasing, and you hear a whole ass groan from Satoru, making you smile against her lips.

“So hot.” Satoru murmurs, and you two giggle, before your eyes lock on Satoru, who hadn’t had a dare just yet.

“Truth or dare, Satoru?” You ask teasingly, and he sips his drink, licking those full lips and wrecking you.

“Truth.”

“You really hate me?” You ask, and he grins.

“Sure do. So much.” You roll your eyes, and the mood has lightened again, just a little less tense now.

“Truth or dare, Shoko?” Suguru asks, and she sighs.

“Dare.”

“Dare you to kiss Satoru.” She rolls her eyes, as does Gojo, then she comes over to him. You watch, your heart racing, as Satoru looks at Shoko, then at you, a challenge in his eyes. He takes a step closer to her, his tall frame towering over her, and you feel a strange mix of feelings.

He leans down, and you see the way her eyes flutter shut, the way she leans into him, eager for his touch. Satoru looks at you though, his eyes never leaving yours as his lips brush over Shoko’s, and for a second, you feel like you’re the one being kissed. You can see the hunger in his eyes, the same hunger you feel deep in your core.

They pull apart, and you notice Suguru’s hungry gaze and flushed cheeks, as if anything Shoko did excited him. “Truth or dare, Suguru.” Shoko says as she pulls back, and he smirks.

“Dare, since everyone else is picking it.”

“Dare you to kiss her on the neck.” Shoko lifts your hair then, and Suguru leans forward, pecking hot kisses on your throat, as Shoko caresses your body. You still see Satoru just looking at you, it’s like his eyes are locked on every movement. Suguru tickles you as he hums on your throat, as he and Shoko touch hands on your waist.

“Truth or dare?” Suguru asks you now, leaning up.

“Dare.” You murmur, and Suguru grins.

“Take the dress off.” You tremble a bit, insecure suddenly, and Shoko is easing the straps off your shoulders.

“Let’s see this hot number you’ve got on.” She teases, and you step back a bit from them.

“Um… Satoru, unzip me?” You ask, lifting your hair, and his lips part, stepping closer to you, setting his drink down.

His warm palm is on the back of your neck, as he gently unzips it to the bottom, and your dress falls to your ankles. You step out of it, bending to grab it off the floor, ass pressed against his hard thighs, and you hear the hitch in his breath, you bite your lip as you set your dress on a nearby chair, and you stand there, nervously in the room, as three sets of eyes take you in.

“Ugh, so hot!” Shoko muses, as you’re in a dark blue set of lingerie, little garters and lacy bralette, and you fight the urge to cover up, but when Satoru’s eyes drink you in, and you see him visibly gulp, you let your arms hang down.

“Fuck.” Is all he says, and Shoko laughs at that, Suguru smiling.

“Beautiful.” But something feels…

Insincere?

Are you just in your head?

“Thanks you all. Okay… I’m the only one undressed, huh? Whose turn?”

“Gojo, truth or dare? Pick dare ya big baby.” Shoko says, and you all laugh a bit, and Satoru shrugs.

“Fine, fine, dare.”

“Dare you to kiss her… right… here.” Shoko comes to you, fingers grazing down your breasts, and Satoru is on you so quick you couldn’t have even blinked. “He’s eager, huh?”

“Very eager.” Suguru muses, and then Satoru’s got you in his arms, so fucking strong and the grip is bruising, then he places his lips on the peak of your breast through the lace, hot tongue lavishing it over the little fabric, and you can’t stop the moan escaping.

The energy shifts, as he looks up with those stupidly beautiful eyes, lavishing the other nipple with the same attention, making the bralette soaked, as your panties were sticking to you with how turned on you were. He kisses up your breasts, sucking, biting, leaving little pops and smacks of his lips as he devours you. Your back arches for more of him, craving him so badly.

“Okay, get carried away much?” Suguru cuts in, clearing his throat, but Satoru doesn’t let you go, he just hovers his lips over yours, sighing.

“Not my fault you ask me to kiss such pretty titties.” You’re flushed now, under his clear praise, the way he makes you feel so…

Fuck didn’t Suguru used to make you feel special?

Are you awful?

“Truth or dare, Shoko.” You murmur the command, as Satoru keeps holding you, and she picks dare. “Your clothes off.”

“Well, yes mommy.” You giggle, and Satoru won’t stop staring at you, even as he lets you go, even as Shoko’s getting undressed, and you watch Suguru’s mouth drop as he studies her body, but Satoru doesn’t even glance.

“That lingerie? Hot as fuck.” Satoru says to you softly, and you can’t hide the little smile as he runs his hands down your body.

“Thank you. Oh, you look so pretty, Shoko!” You say then, and Satoru does glance, as Shoko has a gorgeous little body in black lingerie, and Suguru’s hands already roam, as he continues to stare hungrily.

“Damn, high school crush still goes hard, huh?” Satoru quips, and Suguru’s lips tense just a bit, as he looks at his friend.

“Truth or dare, Satoru?” Suguru says then.

“Dare.” Satoru answers, pouting as he looks at you.

“Mmm, come lick Shoko’s thigh. Right here.” You tense, as Satoru sighs, peering at you before he comes over to her, on his knees then, and she laughs, as if it’s a silly little sight to see. Satoru laughs too, and Suguru is looking on, clearly hard in his pants, as you stand off to the side and watch.

Satoru licks her inner thigh, popping a kiss, before standing, and you don’t know how you feel. Seeing Satoru was sexy but…

Huh.

“Mmmkay, Sugu, your dare is the same.” Suguru gets down on his knees, gripping her thigh firmly, licking up it and sucking, moaning as his hands slide up to her ass then. Satoru stands, watching with a bit of a glare then, and he turns to you, hands on your waist firm, looking down at you.

“Don’t need a dare for this.” He says, then he’s on his knees, kissing on your inner thigh, and you cry out at the sensation, earning a look from Suguru, who’d been kissing up further as Shoko had her hands in his long silky locks.

“Satoru…” You whisper, as his eyes look up at you, and that look? It’s so fucking intense, as he bites your inner thigh, making you cry out.

“Ah, we're done with the dares, huh?” Suguru muses, but Satoru just smirks on your thigh.

“You seemed to really be enjoying yourself, don’t wanna leave her out do you, now?” Suguru stands then, and Shoko and him walk to both of you.

“Do you feel left out, Princess?”

Sure fucking do.

Sure have.

But now… Satoru is on his knees before you, and fuck if you don’t feel incredibly sexy.

“N-no. Don’t worry. Have fun.” You say with a small smile, it’s what you’d said last time Shoko came, when it got to the point you were kind of in the way. Suguru frowns though, and Shoko pouts.

“I never wanted you to feel left out last time.” Shoko says softly, caressing your face and kissing your lips, which you sigh into as Satoru kisses higher.

“I know you didn’t, sweetie. You paid a lot of attention.” Your remark doesn’t go unnoticed by Suguru, who rightfully looks a little resigned. “These things can be… mmnh… tricky.”

“Someone dare me to lick this little pussy.” Satoru says down there, and fuck if you’re not dripping , but Suguru is kissing you now, almost desperately.

“Baby are we good?” He asks, as Satoru bites your thigh hard, and you don’t know how to fucking answer.

“S-sure.” You mumble, Satoru is climbing higher, and it’s too much, you want him so fucking bad you can’t think. You can’t be mad at Suguru for wanting Shoko.

Fuck maybe…

“Come here Princess.” Suguru is pulling you away, and you blink in confusion as he drags you to his room, shutting the door. You shiver as his room is ice cold, rubbing the goosebumps that rise on your arms.

“What’s wrong, Sugu? Am I ruining your fun?”

“You could never. What’s Satoru said, to make you act this way?”

“He hasn’t said anything. You’re just so into Shoko you couldn’t even say you want me. How do you think I feel?”

Suguru blinks, sighing. “I want you clearly. I just also want her, just like you obviously wanna fuck Satoru.”

“You pushed that on me, first off. Second off, you never said you wanted anyone we played with as much as me. You said you’re the one I want most. ”

“And I… I do. I didn’t know how to really say it on the spot.” You don’t believe him though, even when his eyes drink you in, when he puts on that seductive look, touching you so gently, carefully.

“It’s okay if you want her more, but maybe we shouldn’t… be together if you'd prefer her.”

“What the fuck? Really?” He’s glaring, and you just shrug.

“I’m fine with us playing but I think you want her so much more-”

“This is Satoru.”

“No, Sugu, I can think for myself.”

“Well I want to be with you. You . I didn’t ask Shoko out.”

“Yet.”

“Really?” You just shrug again. “I’m sorry that I said it that way. Can you just… come here.” He pulls you to him, lips drinking in yours, arms wrapping you tightly. “I should have made you feel good, I’m sorry baby.”

“No it’s fine-” He kisses you over and over, kissing your little thoughts out of your mind.

“Have I been doing such a bad job at being a boyfriend that asshole Satoru makes you feel better?” He's sliding his hands down your body, pressing you into the door. You struggle to breathe.

“Sugu, I know you don't love me and that's okay. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Maybe you love…”

“I never said I didn't.” He says the words through gritted teeth, and your resolve wavers, when he slides a hand down your soft stomach, down to your panties, as he looks down at you so sweetly. “Is that what this is? Did I hurt you…”

“I don't think I'm the prettiest but y-you made me feel like that. With the other um… ladies. But… it's fine if-”

“I am being a dick. Huh?” He murmurs, his fingers sliding under your panties now. You shake your head.

“No. You could never be.” You brush his hair back, and he sighs, kissing you softly, biting your lower lip, tongue sliding against it. You moan softly, arms sliding up to wrap around his neck then, as the familiar embrace feels so good. But your mind is just whirling with doubt.

“I hesitated.” Suguru speaks, popping kisses all over your face. “I'm so sorry baby. You should know you're important to me.” He says, and then you feel awful, for what you did, kissing Satoru. But… 

“You really like her, Sugu.” You say softly, and he sighs, finding you with his fingertip then, where you’re aching, and making you cry out softly.

“We're just close, baby. If it's too much I won't do anything with her.”

“No it… it's fine. I'm just getting in my head, huh?”

“Let me get you out of it.” You go to ask how then he's on his knees, sliding your panties to the side with a sure twist of his fingers. “Let me show you how fucking gorgeous you are.”

“Sugu…” His tongue finds you then, and you gasp at it, as he works you how he knows to, as two of his long, thick fucking fingers slide in your tight entrance, and you gush around them.

“Love how you taste. Love how you feel.” You fall into it, head slamming back against the door, fuck if he didn't know what to do, what to say for you to fall apart. You cover your mouth and he pulls back. “No, make noise.”

“No. They're…”

“Make. Noise. For me.” He spreads your lips, yanking one of your thighs over his broad shoulder then. You’re trembling as he flicks his tongue up and circles your little clit, twitching in response. 

“S-Sugu…” You’re gasping as he starts hitting your spot, the one he knows so fucking well, looking up at you with those seductive eyes of his, and you can’t help but forget everything for a moment. He makes you feel so desired, even if…

“Cum on my face, Princess, please, let me taste you.” He murmurs, as he pulls back and takes a breath, and you shatter then, falling apart, as he laps you up, until you can’t hardly function. You’re boneless, as he has to hold you up, before sliding back up your body, tilting up your chin.

“Y-you can’t just eat me out every time you want… something… mmm…” He’s rubbing up and down between your folds, and you’re so sensitive you hiss, hips bucking from the touch.

“I don’t want to not have you in my life, Princess.” He cups your face so gently, planting a kiss on your forehead, and your eyes flutter shut. “I’ll make sure I pay attention to both of you. I guess because Satoru’s here I…”

“No, last time it was the Shoko and Geto show.” You whisper those words, and Suguru leans back. “Yeah you can’t lick my feelings away, no matter how talented your tongue is.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do. I just want to show you how much I desire you, beautiful girl.” You blink back some emotion. Just yesterday you’d been so in love with Suguru, how had Satoru made you question everything so quickly.

“Let’s just have fun, I won’t get upset again.” You say softly, and he exhales, smiling down at you, brushing back your hair. “It’s okay, Sugu, promise. I’m going to be having fun with your jerk of a friend too.”

Suguru smirks, rolling his eyes. “He is such a little shit, isn’t he?”

“He really is.”

“All right baby come on. Forgive me for being thoughtless?” He asks, as he runs his hands down your shoulders, and you bite your lower lip.

“I wasn’t even mad, Sugu, just…” Just thinking that the way Sugu looks at you is nothing like his psycho bestie. “Just things are a little complicated in this. I guess I don’t think I can compete with years of being best friends.”

“There’s no competition, me and her have only ever been friends. I didn’t sleep with her back in college, that was all Satoru.”

“Hmm.” Weird, because it was as if Satoru and her were friends, and Suguru just looked at her like…

Like Satoru does with you.

What sort of mess was this going to be?

“Suguru, y’know how you videoed being with a girl because you were out of town or whatever?” He frowns.

“Are you mad about that too? I thought-”

“No, no… just what if I did something like that. Would you really be fine with it?” He tilts his head, grinning then. “What!?”

“Yeah it would be fucking hot. Why does Satoru already wanna be a porn star?” You can’t actually believe he is okay with that.

If you were mine, I’d never fucking share you.

Huh.

“No, it was just a thought, Sugu. Let’s go they’re probably fucking without us, hmm?” He laughs a bit, and then you all step back out into the living room, and Shoko and Satoru are just playing cards, laughing, Satoru’s shirt is open a bit, just three buttons, and his sleeves are rolled up.

But they’re nowhere near close. They both look up at you, Shoko smiling a bit, but Satoru is glaring as he studies your body, ever so slowly. Suguru gets a little red in the cheeks as he takes in Shoko’s still nearly nude form, and you see it, the look in his damn eyes, it’s just not what he gives you. You try to shake those thoughts off, as he’s holding your hand tightly.

Suguru is so good to you, why did Satoru have to ruin your thoughts?

“Bet you two had fun, huh?” Shoko winks at you, making you blush now, and Suguru pulls you close, arm around your waist, grinning.

“Just had to talk to the Princess alone for a few.”

“Talk… uh huh.” Shoko teases again.

“Talk to her-” Sugu starts and you shut his mouth with a hand, and then he laughs against your palm. He drags you over to where they’re re-stacking up the cards, but Satoru says nothing, as you sit down next to him, shivering a bit.

“You cold, brat?” He asks, and you nod, then he’s taking his shirt off, revealing his toned, hard muscles of his chest and abdomen. You damn near drool looking at his marble skin, as he wraps a shirt around your shoulders. You smell him, that clean scent that’s fucking intoxicating, some insane expensive cologne you’d like to bathe in.

“Thank you, Toru.” You say softly, and he just nods, going back to shuffling cards as you sit there in his stupidly expensive dress shirt over your lingerie. Suguru looks at you two curiously for just a moment before murmuring something in Shoko’s ear, and she’s laughing at him, shoving him.

“Toru, what’s up with this nickname hmm?” You just shrug, feeling the soft fabric on you as Satoru’s big hand goes to your thigh.

“I like it. Do you not?” Satoru leans close to you, brushing your hair back, but then he pulls it, at the nape of your neck, making you gasp a bit, as you meet his gaze, so vividly blue it hurts to look at.

“I hate when you say it. Hate what it does to me.”

You whine then, it’s unavoidable, and he reacts quickly, pinning you to the couch then, on your back, making you soaked, more soaked than you had been from Suguru’s expert lips. You errantly notice Shoko is in Sugu’s lap, straddling him, but it’s just an afterthought, because Satoru on top of you consumes you so much.

Satoru’s POV

“Still hate me so much, need to fuck me again?” Your whisper drives him insane, he moans quietly, as he looks at how fucking beautiful you are under him, your hair splayed across the couch in soft waves, framing your perfect little face.

He hates you.

Hates how good you look in his dress shirt, how pretty your curves look in that lingerie, hates having to do anything with Shoko when all he wants to do is rail that perfect little cunt. Fill you up till you’re dripping for days. You’re panting, that color on those cheeks making your eyes so bright, your lips parted just so, tempting him with every shallow breath you take.

“Didn’t Sugu please you enough, little whore?” He demands through gritted teeth in your ear, and you shiver at his words. He’s mean to you, would you just be mean back and not get… more turned on!?

“I don’t know, feel me and tell.” You whisper in his ear, breath tickling it, as your words make him spiral out of control. He wants you alone, he doesn’t want to fucking be around anyone else. God help him if Suguru tried to make him fuck Shoko, not that she wasn’t gorgeous, she wasn’t you. But you… weren’t even his.

It makes him insane.

“Beg for it, little slut.” He glides his hand down your soft tummy, which trembles under his sure touch, and you moan so sexy, arching your back, and your breasts are in his face. He yanks those cups down, eyeing your perfect, lush breasts, your nipples just begging for his mouth.

“Beg for it, hmm? You want it just as bad.” Your hand rubs over his crotch then, and he bites back a groan, he’s rock hard and it hurts, he grinds on your little hand for any relief, pre cum making him sticky.

“Then I won’t touch you.” He yanks his hand away, and Satoru errantly notices Suguru is going down on Shoko, and here you two are, in a little argument. He sees your gaze hit them for a moment, but your eyes go right back to his, pouting… fuck he’d give you anything when you look at him like that.

“Please, Toru.” He growls, grabbing your face then, your delicate little face in his huge hands, fuck you’re so tiny compared to him…

“Hate that. Shut your fucking mouth.” You bite that lip, killing him, wrapping a leg around his hip then, trailing your little heel down his thigh, and he trembles. Satoru Gojo trembles.

What you do to him…

“Fine… Satoru , please. Please touch me.” You barely speak, it’s only for him to hear, as you both hear telltale moans next to you, but everything faded as if it were just the two of you. Then you take his hand in your tiny one, pressing it to your panties, whimpering, and he’s done.

“Pathetic, begging for me. So desperate?” You just nod, and he hates it, he hates you, hates how soaked you are. “Holy fuck…”

“Want you.” Satoru’s chest tightens, as those words slip from your pretty mouth, the words he has ached for, though he would never admit. “S’much… want you… touch me oh please!”

“Fuck me…” He’s so hard it’s throbbing, he could cum right now if he just pressed against one of your plush thighs. He slides his two fingers in your slick heat, and your tight walls clench him, as you gush around them, soaking him. He watches your brow scrunch up with pleasure, your eyes dilating as your hips buck up. “Fuckin soaked… from what, brat?”

“You know why, shut up.” You gasp, your hands clinging to his bare chest, and he chuckles, kissing down your collarbone, pumping in and out of your dripping little cunt, so wet he can hear it squishing.

“Slutty little pussy doesn’t need much prep for me, huh?” Your mouth opens and you moan, so fucking sexy he can’t stand it, as he peels off your panties, and you’ve got a big wet spot on them, your wetness drooling out of that pretty pussy. He moans out then, how can he hold it back when he sees you? “Fuck…”

Satoru spreads your thighs, unzipping his pants and sliding them off, and he watches your eyes go dazed with desire, your little hand grabbing his cock, stroking, feeling like fucking silk. Satoru snatches your hands up then, by your dainty little wrists, in one of his hands he presses them over your head, into the arm of the couch.

“Satoru…” You whine, hips wiggling, and he looks down at the precum pouring from his tip, the cock that’s throbbing as he slides it between your glistening lips, and your eyes flutter shut when he rubs it on your puffy little clit. “ Satoru .”

Fuck, his name on your lips…

His eyes lock on yours, and he teases you with just the tip, holding in the moan of pleasure as he feels you, soaking wet, so fucking tight. “Why are you so wet from nothing, brat? Fucking say it.”

You look to the side, and Satoru sees Shoko and Suguru in his peripherals, weird he barely noticed them fucking, his best friends. No, nothing existed with you. Oh how he can’t wait to get you all alone, to truly ruin you. He can tell he already has had an effect, especially with your next words.

“It’s how you look at me.” You say softly, and Satoru tenses then, as your cock drunk eyes meet his, as your perfect breasts rise and fall with each breath. You’re so vulnerable, so beautiful, and fuck you feel so good. Satoru leans down then over you, his lips on yours, sighing as he tastes your sweet breath, the taste and feel of you that haunted him all damn night, and you’re right here.

If only you would be his.

“How I look at you?” He taunts you but you just whimper, rolling your hips up for more of his teasing, and you nod then, kissing him softly.

“Yes, how you look at me. It gets me so wet, Satoru.” You nearly just mouthed those words and he moans then, thrusting his hips and burying his length inside you, and fuck he almost cums just there, you’re so tight, squeezing him so much he has to hold himself back. You’re throbbing around him, tears in your pretty eyes as you cry out for him.

“All I gotta do is look at you, and you’re this ready?” He’s pressing down on you as he speaks, and you nod then, eager, eyes fluttering shut when he slides out and then back inside your soppy little cunt again. Your thighs tighten on his hips, as he rests his forehead on yours, wanting to say how much he craves you, how you are ruining him, how you consume him…

Does Satoru hate you or…

“You so easy for me?”

“F-fuck… p-please just…” You roll your hips, and he bottoms out then, you take him so well somehow, like you’re made for him. He couldn’t tell you that though.

“Desperate little slut.” He wants to tell you how gorgeous you are, how fucking lucky he is to even be inside you, but at those mean words you’re soaking him further, whining out. “Gonna fuck you s’good baby you’ll never be able to think of anything, all you’ll know is my name.”

Your POV

“Satoru!” You’re crying his name out as he starts fucking into you, and fuck he’s so long, the curved tip dragging on your walls, as he’s holding your wrists in a bruising grip, just staring into your eyes, and you almost cum right then. He has you so close with little to no touching and a few thrusts, you are pathetic.

No thoughts of anyone else or anything else exist, it’s like it’s transformed to where it’s only Satoru, owning you, his free hand yanking your thigh and pushing in impossibly deeper. Then you can’t take it, the pressure, his grip, those damn eyes that you fall hopelessly into, and then he lets go of your wrists, and you grip his shoulders, manicured nails digging in.

You can hear Shoko and Suguru moaning, but you really couldn’t bring yourself to care, all you care about is how you’re soaking the couch, how good it feels when Satoru owns your little pussy. He does own it too, he leaves no fucking question, as he’s smashing into you, it’s rough and you’re struggling to take it, but oh you want it, you love him bruising that cervix.

He presses his lips to your ear, and you hear that whimper, the one he tried to hide last time, as one of his hands finds your clit then, rubbing it between two fingers, and the pressure builds.

“Make you forget- ah- everything. But me.” His words intoxicate you, urging you on, and then you’re gripping tightly, crying out in pleasure.

“C-cumming…” You whisper back, in his ear, and then he audibly groans, pressing in deep, fucking you into the couch, cock wrecking you, as you cum all over it, dripping down his balls, your ass, his thighs. Fuck you’re soaking everything, just dripping from cumming so hard, and you damn near lose consciousness as he keeps fucking you through it, not slowing down.

“Make you stupid, forget your own fucking name. Forget everything.” He looks at you now, hand sliding up your throat, soaked with your arousal, pressing at your pulse point now. He pauses, eyes locking then, and you take his wrist, nodding silently, and then oh God he’s squeezing your little throat.

You’re fading in and out as he builds you up again, absolutely making you forget everything. What was your name again? Where are you?

Nothing but Satoru Gojo.

The asshole. Mean. Hates you.

Fucking you next to his best friend, your boyfriend, oh yeah… you have one of those don’t you? But you’re a little slut for Satoru Gojo and you couldn’t deny that fact, not when you’re pulsing around him, cum making it slippery as he continues to choke you out, taking your oxygen.

Then there’s really nothing but Satoru, blurry above you, as you feel yourself in a mix of lightheadedness and pleasure. Like you’re floating. You’ve never been choked, as if your life is in his hands, this man you should hate, but you don’t… no, when his blue eyes look down at you and your cunt is milking him for everything, you feel nothing close to hate.

Pure desire.

You cum again, gasping for breath, and he releases your throat then, laying on top of you, and it’s so intimate this position, his chest squishing your soft breasts, as he plants gentle kisses down your throat. His thrusts slow, and he looks right at you, as you blink and try to come to. He caresses your cheek so sweetly, as he rolls his hips, grinding that tip on your cervic.

“S-Satoru… s’good, too… too good… I…” You can’t form a word anymore, blinking and gulping for air, and Satoru studies you carefully, as your head lolls back, as your back arches.

“Fuck you’re pretty.” He murmurs, and you’ve heard it a ton from many others, but how he… “I hate it. How beautiful you are. Hate it.” There’s anger in his voice, as he shoves in deep and you cry out in pain, and shatter around him, while he’s whispering hate in your ear.

If hate is this, you could get used to it.

“H-hate you… too… mmm…” He smirks, kissing your lips, pressing his full ones on yours, and your tongues play, as your release drips around both of you.

“Need to cum in you. I’d put a baby in you if you were mine.” He huffs, his cheeks flushed, his eyes drunk off you, and you brush back that snowy white hair, staring at his beautiful face, as he says things he shouldn’t.

Suguru cums in girls.

Not you.

But could you do this? Are you so horrible?

“Don’t worry, I won’t. Yet.” Satoru says then, as if sensing your inner turmoil, but then he starts fucking you hard again, groaning as you cling to him, as he fucks away any brain cells left. “Not yet. Gonna be alone first.”

Alone with him.

Fuck you couldn’t…

“Cum one more time, be a good little slut would you?” He slams in deep, and you do fall apart, as if on command, and you’re still throbbing even as he pulls out and leans back, cumming on your tummy, his head thrown back as he moans, loudly.

Fuck it turns you on more.

You notice Suguru and Shoko seem to have finished, as Suguru’s laying next to her, brushing her hair back gently. And that’s where the big difference lies, because you’re getting called a slut, getting came on, and Shoko is getting aftercare, and sweet nothings whispered in her ear. But… did you want that, or did you want exactly what Satoru Gojo gave you?

He exhales, and you take your pointer finger, spreading his cum around, lapping it up on your tongue, and Satoru’s eyes widen, his jaw clenched with clear desire, as you moan while you taste him. He’s trembling over you, and in that moment you realize, Satoru Gojo desires you as much as you do him. Fuck, maybe even more.

How is it possible?

“Why you gotta look like that?” He says through gritted teeth, and you flush, as he stares down with those bright blue eyes, like you’re the only thing in the world, the look alone makes you ready to go again, fucked out as you are. “Hate it.”

“I know… you hate me, huh.” You lick up more of him, and he glares, snatching your hand up.

“You exist to fucking torture me.” But you cup his face, and he sighs for just a moment, pretty and vulnerable.

“You made a mess, huh?” Suguru mentions, as he cuddles with Shoko on the other couch, and Satoru flips him off, while just enjoying your touch.

“You’re like a hedgehog, so mean but then wanting a head pat.” You tease and he glares, putting your hand back down.

“Hedgehog huh? I’d say just a dick.” Shoko says, hopping up then, and Satoru and you both look to see her fully naked. You watch Suguru’s desire as he stares at her, even as you sit up with Satoru’s help, but Satoru just looks at you, at that cum drying along your tummy in white trails.

“I need to clean up.” You get up then, walking past Suguru, who smirks at you a bit as he helps Shoko get dressed.

“Suguru…” Satoru says then, and Suguru hums.

“Yep?”

“Can I take her home for the night?” Satoru’s question stops you as you’re wiping off in the bathroom, and Suguru says nothing.

“Time for a smoke, bye!” Shoko says, and you walk back out to see Satoru and Suguru glaring at each other. You stand there, slipping panties back on, then picking up Satoru’s shirt, hopelessly wrinkled from being under you both.

“Satoru you for real?” Suguru demands, and Satoru smirks, sliding on his boxers and pants over those long legs.

“What, why not? Don’t you video fucking girls and send it to her? I’ll make sure to get such a pretty angle of that pussy sucking me in.”

“Satoru…” You murmur then, and he just grins, as Suguru is clearly angry, a vein in his throat popping out, scowling at him.

“No she’s not staying at your place, Satoru.”

“Why not? Give you smooch time with your high school crush. Let her come over and I’ll make her-”

“You can just go.” You frown then, snatching up Suguru by his wrist, looking up at him then.

“Want me to go home too?” You ask, and he frowns, shaking his head.

“No, I want him to go. He’s… done what he wanted, let me, you and Shoko spend the rest of the night. You two didn’t even do anything.” Suguru tries to purr those words, rubbing up and down your back, but you sigh.

“I’m kind of tired though.”

“Then we will just go to sleep. We can be done. No pressure, Princess. But I do want you to stay the night, I’ll snuggle in bed with you.” Suguru murmurs, and you watch Satoru roll his pretty eyes, as he gets dressed.

“Not Shoko?” You murmur, and he shakes his head.

“Just you. Satoru, I'll see you at work Monday. I’m going to have a smoke myself.” You frown.

“You smoke now?” You ask, and he shrugs.

“Nah just with Shoko every now and then.” He kisses your head then, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. “We’ll cuddle, promise. Bye, Satoru.”

Suguru walks out then, and Satoru just glares at him, before taking the shirt from your hands and gathering his things. You feel so… disgusting suddenly, what are you even fucking doing? You don’t want to stay the night with your boyfriend, no you want… him, Satoru Gojo, the man who’s looking at you intensely as you slip on a dress over yourself finally.

“I hate you.” You roll your eyes, sighing.

“I’m aware. You like to say that.” He just sighs, then yanks out his cell phone, looking at it.

“I want a video of us so I can look at it if I gotta fuck anyone else.” He says then, and your gasp makes him smirk. “What? I won’t be able to get hard.”

“You say things like that and they ruin me.”  You whisper, blinking back odd emotions then.

“Well I can’t just fuck you, can I? You’re not mine.”

“I know.”

You both just stand there, and then he sighs, pulling you against his chest, holding you so tight you can’t breathe, but you don’t want to breathe. “Stop fucking looking at me like that.”

“Like what, Satoru?” He tilts your chin up, sighing, snowy white lashes low over his baby blues, licking his lower lip and making you ache with each motion.

“Like this I don’t fucking know. You torture me enough. Now I have to think of him on you, holding you, I can’t, I fucking can’t okay?” You blink back tears, and he slams his lips on yours, moaning into them, and you realize you’re awful .

���You ruin me.” You whisper, and he laughs, dark, not meeting his eyes.

“Haven’t ruined you yet.” You glare, but when he picks you up, dangling you off the floor, you greedily kiss him. “He doesn’t see what he has.”

“What even am I? A slutty bartender. Kissing his friend.”

“You are a slutty, short little bartender.” He keeps kissing you, as you cling your arms around his neck. “I hate you.”

“I know.” He’s easing you down, and you hate to let him go, the man that makes you feel so… “Thank you, Satoru.”

“For what? The dick? Didn’t even prep you.” He whispers meanly, but you just sigh, looking up, tilting your head back.

“No, for making me feel so special.”

He blinks, his mouth sputtering, then he glares, gripping your upper arms tight. “What the fuck do you mean. I haven’t done anything you deserve.”

“It’s how you look at me.” He leans in again, but his phone rings, and he sighs, letting you go and looking at it.

“Give me your number.” You look at him in surprise. He’d never wanted it before, in fact he’d refused. “In case you… ever need something I don't know.”

“Oh um… okay.” You grab your phone and he smirks. “What?”

“Baby pink. You’re so girlie.”

“I know… I like pink. I’d tie you up in pink ribbon.” He glares again and you actually giggle. Fuck he makes you feel alive. “There, got it?”

“Got it. Don’t annoy me with nudes please.” You roll your eyes as he walks out then, and you linger in the doorway. “I’ll nickname you short stuff.”

“I’ll nickname you Toru, since you hate it.”

He glares then turns, leaving, as you save him in your phone. You watch Satoru’s long figure leave as you walk back to Suguru’s room, plopping down on the bed, you weren’t kidding when you say you’re exhausted. You hear them giggling together, and you can’t find yourself caring, feeling left out. You just… don’t care. It’s oddly calming but also terrifying.

“Hey Princess, sleeping already?” Suguru asks later, and you realize you weren’t even under the covers. You yawn, nodding, and he kisses your cheek sweetly, making you feel horrible for how you felt about Gojo now. “I’ll be in a bit, it’s too early for me, sleepyhead.”

“Mmkay. No worries. Um… Shoko staying?”

He nods, and you tense a bit. “Don’t worry we will just hang out and unwind, I’ll be back in bed tonight.”

“Thank you, Sugu.”

***

You bleary eyed look at the little clock next to the bed and see it’s four in the morning, and you reach over to find the bed perfectly made, like Suguru never came. You yawn, then cough a bit, your throat is so parched that you feel it scratchy and annoying. You walk over through the room, and then pause when your hand hits the metal knob.

You hear moaning.

You tremble a bit, in anger, in embarrassment, because damned if Suguru lost his shit at Satoru’s suggestion, what did he even want you here for!? As some fucking joke? As the pathetic girlfriend? And he had promised you he’d come to bed, he promised…

You tip toe open the door and walk through the living room, they’re clearly in the guest room as you don’t see them, and you say fuck it, grabbing your keys, grabbing your clothes and putting on your shoes. You’re not gonna stay here to hear all of this, even if he ‘videos’ it, even if you’re kind of shit for wanting Satoru, you still couldn’t just stay there.

You weren’t even mad just…

“You’re so perfect, Shoko.” You hear, clear as day, and it feels like something is gnawing at your heart, as you struggle to get the rest of your things.

“Sugu…”

“Fuck you feel so good, you’re perfect … the most perfect-”

“Mnh!”

You drop your purse then, falling as you are hopping one one food clumsily to get a heel on, when they go quiet. Shit.

You struggle to leave when a shirtless Suguru comes out, and he is glistening with sweat and he looks at you, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Princess…”

You say nothing, you just dart for the door, and he stops you, a hand on the door, another grabbing your waist, and you shove him off. “Let me go.”

“Come here, come here, let’s talk about it, I didn’t mean for you to be upset, I swear, I didn’t know-”

“No, don’t touch me. I'll leave you two to it. Just let me go." You speak through gritted teeth, and Suguru turns you, your back on the door, emotion stark on his face, but you can’t bring yourself to really look at him.

"Baby, look at me."

"Don't call me that.” You finally do look at him. “I don’t even care you fucked her while I’m asleep. It’s that… she’s perfect huh?"

He blinks, sighing. "You... I didn't... you know shit just gets said-”

“Oh so you never meant it for me.”

“No! You’re upset and you’re not thinking right.” You laugh, coldly then, shaking your head. “You seemed to sure enjoy fucking Satoru you know. Lost in your own little fucking world."

"Yeah but I never told him he's better than you."

"I didn't say that!" You shove at him then, glaring, as he desperately tries to kiss you, and you turn your head.

“You made these rules but you don’t follow them.”

“I would… I… fuck I’m drunk and high, I’m sorry okay?”

“Just be with her! It’s so fucking clear.”

“I can’t lose you. Will you just sleep here, and I’ll come to bed and we’ll talk in the morning. You're just upset."

"Fuck yes I am!" You yell out then, and he sighs, reaching out, but you flinch away. "I’m going home. Enjoy the perfect pussy."

"Fucking shit… at least let me drive you."

You shake your head, getting your shit together. "No, hell no. Not leaving my fucking car here.”

“It’s four in the morning!”

“Yep, sure is. And you’re not where you promised. This game, making me your plaything, no, just no.”

“I’ll not fuck her again then, I swear. Please just… let me take you home baby, we’ll talk more tomorrow and figure this out. It’s not like we’re… monogamous. So I don’t know what you’re that upset-”

You feel everything boiling over. This was all his idea, his rules, now that he breaks them he doesn’t even want to admit it? “Don’t fucking start, it’s not you fucking her while I’m asleep, even though it’s against your own goddamn rules. You refused Satoru when he asked.”

“Because he’s clearly obsessed with you! What, you want him? Want him to fucking hurt you?”

“Like you’re not.” You scoff at his angry expression, shaking your head, clenching your keys in your palm so hard it leaves marks. “Hurting me I mean. Clearly not obsessed, I really can’t even talk with you right now. I’m furious and I’ll say mean shit if I don’t just go.”

“It’s a mistake. You’re so unforgiving?” You shake your head. “Then just promise me we’re not done. I can’t handle it.”

“You’re handling it fine.” You nudge your head over to the door. “Just be happy and leave me-”

“But I do… love you, don’t you see that? I need you.” He’s cupping your face, kissing you, and you’re just sobbing now, as it’s as if you never knew him. “I hurt you, my Princess… I’m so-”

“N-no. Don’t lie to my fucking face. Let. Me. Go. I’ll talk to you when I’m calmer, if you want. Okay?” He nods then, exhaling, kissing you again, but you don’t kiss him back, not at all.

“Please just tell me you get home safe. Are you going home?”

“Suguru, you have no right to ask right now. Now please get off me.” He lets you go finally, and you rush out, heading to your little VW beetle in the twilight.

You watch him stand by the door, looking so upset, and for a moment you feel bad, but then you feel just devastated. Tears fill your vision as you start up the car with a hum, driving away finally, and every bit further you get, the more the tension releases, until you can almost breathe again. You hit a red light, and you laugh like a maniac, as you’re the only one on the road.

You look at your phone.

Fuck it.

He won’t answer right?

“Shit… what’s wrong?” You hear Satoru’s gruff, sleepy voice, and you just start sobbing again, so hard you pull over into a brightly lit gas station. “Hey, hey… what the fuck happened?”

“I’m so sorry. I woke you.” You sob out, and you hear him sigh.

“Yeah duh. What’s going on?”

“I just wanted to hear your voice.”

It’s silent, and you internally curse.

You said too much.

“I’m stupid. You’re Suguru’s best friend… I can’t just bitch to you right now, ugh please forgive me.”

“Take a breath, short stuff. Mmkay?” You do as he says, shivering as the wind rolls through the open windows. “Where are you?”

“Um, some gas station.”

“Shit, it was that bad? What did he do…”

“I don’t even wanna get into it, I can’t cry and drive.”

“Then just… come here. You know where I live. I’m not far.” Your heart races at the suggestion, thoughts pouring every way. “I’ll either fuck you, let you cry on my expensive shirt, or you can sleep in my guest room. And I’ll jerk off thinking of you. Hmm, thinking of you crying.”

“Satoru! You’re so stupid.” You’re laughing though, and hear his breathy chuckle, you vividly imagine him right now. “Isn’t that gonna make this worse? I’m so upset and I’m a mess.”

“Just come over. Yeah? I’ll serenade you with how much I hate you, put you to sleep.”

You giggle, you fucking giggle, as you put the car in gear, knowing it’s a horrible idea, that it would make shit so much more complicated, that Suguru had said he loved you… but…

“I’ll be there in ten.”

Chapter 4

Ao3 chap

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58179796/chapters/148138651

[profilerclra]

Oh no, i love him | Spencer reid x Bestfriend! Fem! Reader

pure fluff

u can find part.2 here!!

content: Spencer is flirty (:o shocking, i knowww), Spencer calls reader stuff like "honey" (down bad for this.), Mutual pining (no confession in this one), it's obvious to everyone, Penelope interrupts them, but it's fine because she's a princess.

a/n: heavily based on my need to bury my head in Spencer's chest at any minor inconvenience.

Ever since you joined the team, you always seemed to gravitate towards Spencer. He made you feel so comfortable, so seen. Naturally you two developed a friendship, now best friends, joined at the hip, never to be seen apart from the other. 

To anyone seeing from the outside it was clear the other feelings between you two, the tension, the stolen glances. At this point, you two acted as a married couple, but still pretended to only see each other as friends. 

-

You could not sleep, having nightmares the whole night flashes of Spencer lying down, bleeding going through your mind, images so clear you almost thought it was reality. The current case the team is working on is keeping you awake. This unsub, for a still unknown reason, has been targeting Spencer and you guys cannot get to the reason why.

You get in the office early, settling your things down at your table and heading to the kitchen. You catch yourself preparing two coffees, one with an ungodly amount of sugar and the other black. Right on cue, Spencer gets in the office. 

"Good morning, darling, how did you sleep?" 

"Good morning Spence, and you already know it, horrible" You say, handing him the coffee as he places a kiss on your cheek, and you try not to blush – you hoped to master that hence the amount of times you'd have to do it when you're next to him but no he always found new ways to make you blush and stumble at your words like a teenage girl with a crush. 

"What bothers that pretty mind of yours" He says, taking a sip of his coffee and opening a small smile, noticing how you always remember how he likes it. 

"It's this fucking case, it's been 2 weeks, and we can't figure it out, the MO is all over the place, and now he's targeting you… It's just… I'm worried" you say, getting close to Spencer and putting your head to his chest as you often did when the world just got too much  "we need to find this fucking guy" your voice coming out muffled against his cardigan. 

"We will catch him, it's only a matter of time, honey. You don't need to worry, ok? I'll be fine, we will be fine." He says, grabbing your chin and making you look up, making sure you're looking at his eyes while he says that. 

"If you ever die, i'll kill you. Be aware of that Spencer Reid" You say in a fake serious tone

Spencer puts his arms around your waist, making you two be even closer now  

"Oh, i wouldn't dare to do that"  he says giggling and placing a strand of your hair behind your ear 

There's a lingering moment of silence, you two just stand there, the closest you've ever been just… looking at each other. Being this close to him, you can see all the hues of brown in those beautiful eyes of his. And almost as if there's this gravitational force, you two start to get closer 

"Hey guys, i saw you getting in is there any coffe lef-" Garcia enters the office kitchen, scaring you both to opposite sides of the space 

"Yeah there's um.. Some left there i think" You say, face burning with the embarrassment

"We're you two…" She says, pointing between you and reid 

Before she could finish her sentence, Spencer gives her a death glare 

"Alright! … I'm just going to pour up some coffee and be out!" Penelope says rushing to get out

"Derek Morgan, you will not believe what a just saw" You can hear her saying as soon as she steps out of the kitchen, and you two can't help but burst into laughter 

"Well, i better go now, a lot of files. And um bad guys and stuff" 

"Yeah, me too" Spencer says, also blushing.  

You rush out the kitchen and as you walk over to your desk, a realization hits you 

"Oh shit,

Oh shit. I'm in love with him"

You think to yourself, realizing there's no way you can deny the feelings anymore. 

[jollyhunter]

⋆ ˚｡⋆ PAIRING Dean Winchester x Writer!Reader [Early seasons vibe]

WARNINGS None! No use of Y/N. English isn't my native language.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ SUMMARY You're in your favourite diner; Got your coffee, breakfast, laptop in front of you. It's the perfect time to write. If it wasn't for the writer's block that's holding you in a chokehold. Oh, and the guy who has decided to join you.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ WORDS ~2k

⋆ ˚｡⋆ J/NOTES This silly little thing's dedicated to all my moots who’ve fallen victim to the writer’s curse just like me. I feel you. We can do this!! We can break the curse!!! 🫂

"Doesn’t suit you." A playful voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

"..Huh?" You look up just in time to see a well-worn leather jacket brush past your shoulder.

The booth seat across from you is being filled as a stranger slides in. A plate in one hand and a spoon in the other. Your eyebrows rise, and for a moment you debate whether to tell him the seat is taken.

But the guy doesn’t seem to notice your thoughts. He’s busy ogling his food, humming a curious ‘hm’, and then shoving a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. All the while he continues to mutter, his words now half muffled, "That thing you’re doing to your face."

You blink at him.

He puffs his cheeks, and green eyes travel up to meet yours for the first time, "Makes you look like the Grinch." His lips quirk into a smirk.

What? The audacity.

You stare at him with a deadpan. "Thanks for the compliment." He continues to chew, the flakes crunching. Accompanied by a content hum. Well, at least someone’s enjoying their breakfast.

"Just sayin’." He purses his lips before he eats another spoon, his cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk’s and an eyebrow arched. "What’s up with the face, sweetheart?"

"Uh," - is all you can manage at the moment. Too distracted by the way he's guzzling his yoghurt like a starved caveman. All eyes fluttered closed and nodding to himself like he's thinking ‘Finally, some good fucking food’.

He swallows. Tongue darts out to swipe a white dribble off his upper lip. When his eyes suddenly snap open, you avert yours in record time.

Your gaze's now fixed to the edge of the table, as if it’s the most interesting thing in the room. Left and right of it an elbow each. Of course you had to drop your gaze right between his arms. Well, this is awkward.

"You working on somethin'?" He suddenly asks, and you startle like a deer.

Your lips part - ready to form an answer - when you watch him splotching your notebook in slow-motion.

Your eyebrows twitch in irritation. You dart out a hand, just managing to pull your papers back before another dribble of his slobber taints your notes.

"Dude, please, you’re eating like a barn animal," you comment under your breath, face scrunched up as you wipe the stain off your paperback. Way to lose ones charm.

"But a handsome one," he quickly retorts. And stuffs another spoon into his wide grin, swallows and jerks his chin at your laptop. "So?"

Okay, fine. Maybe he still does have charm.

Your eyes follow his gaze down to the screen facing your way.

"I’m writing," you reply flatly, trying to hold his curious gaze as you tuck your papers safely under your forearms.

His expression flashes into a surprised one. Probably more at your tone than the answer itself.

Granted, the words 'I'm writing' should have come out enthusiastic. They at least used to. But that was before you’d been staring at a white screen for what felt like weeks.

"Uh-huh," he mumbles, the sound muffled as he keeps shovelling the muesli down his hatch. "Can I see?"

"W-what?"

How- how dare he? Only an uncultivated potato would ask that. This is like the biggest No-No. One does not simply ask a writer to look at their unfinished work. You don't stare at a painter when he's still painting. That's like asking someone to strip naked. And then have them bend over.

Let’s ignore the fact that there’s not a single written word to be ashamed of. Because there’s literally not a single written word in your doc.

"No." The answer probably came faster and more obvious of your inner panic than it should have, because to him it clearly translated to; 'Oh? Then I‘ll see it all the more.'

"Aw, c‘mon." His teasing grin spreads, the spoon tipped against his lower lip, "I won‘t judge." Damn it, why does he look kinda adorable?

Before you can react, the guy clamps the spoon between his lips, reaches over the table with his free hand and tilts your laptops screen back down.

"Hey!" you smack his hand away but it‘s too late - his grin just grows and he chuckles.

"Writing, huh? You mean you’ve been staring at a white wall. Here I thought you were writing some spicy stuff about me. What’s all the fuzz about?"

"I- I'm just... I'm still thinking..." you mutter and avoid his gaze behind a hand, trying to cover up the slight tint of embarrassment that’s crept onto your face. "I've got it all in my head, though." You try to back up your answer. He tilts his head back with a chuckle.

"All in your head, huh? For how long this been going?" he quips, lips twitching amused.

"Well, uh-" you begin, then clear your throat with an awkward rub of your neck, "A few days... or... weeks... maybe..." Your voice lowers more with every word until it's reduced to a sheepish whisper.

"Damn, that sucks." he huffs.

"Yeah," you admit with a heavy sigh, "It does."

For a moment you just share a look. His green eyes watch you closely. Calm and curious. But without ever being obtrusive. More like he's trying to get a read on you, like he's patiently waiting, allowing you to open up and reveal more.

And for some reason you find yourself to do just that.

"It's so frustrating, you know?" You begin and slump back in your seat. But he holds your gaze, the entire time and nods subtly, silently telling you to go on. "Like I've got all the ideas in my mind. I can see the scenes play out, can hear the characters talk. But the same moment I try to write it down, it all just-" you break off with a huff, gesturing a 'poof' with your hand.

After a moment, you add another frustrated sigh. "Honestly? Feels like the damn pipeline between my brain and hand's constipated." His eyebrows shoot up at that description.

"You’re an odd one," he laughs and sets the emptied plate down, "I like it."

"Pfff - look who’s talking. Mister 'handsome barn animal'." You jab and can’t help the chuckle. He smirks satisfied at your reaction, tugs at his leather jacket and winks at you.

You roll your eyes with a wide smile.

"What's your name?" You ask curiously.

"Dean," he answers simply. Then leans forward to rest on his forearms, "And you, sweetheart?" Your ears flush when he comes closer and you suddenly become very much aware of the effect his intense gaze has on you.

"I- uh, I'm -" you introduce yourself with your name and he repeats it with a smile, like he's committing it to his memory.

There's a moment of silence again and you don't quite know what to do or say - luckily he seems to have picked up on your inner distress.

"So," he begins, his face suddenly taking an air of - what was it? Business-like? Professional? You couldn't quite tell. "Back to your constipation."

"Yeah? What about it? You interested in my constipation?" You return the question, trying to imitate his new tone.

"Y-yeah," He tries to stay serious, but you both have to bite back a chuckle. "I am, actually."

"What about it?"

"This may sound stupid, but..." He mutters and rubs his forehead like he knows the question that'll follow isn't formulated very well, "Can’t you just, write? You know, like will it through?"

"No- That’s not how it works... it’s - it’s not that damn easy- it's - you don’t understand… It's not that I don't want to. I - I just - ugh-" You groan, face dropped to your hands.

You take a deep breath. The frustration of the past weeks threatening to break down on you again. Your eyes begin to sting and you screw them up in an effort to keep yourself from having a full on breakdown in front of a stranger. In a full diner no less.

"Hey, it’s okay, I believe you." he says with a lower voice now, the flirty attitude gone. The sudden change in his tone and his last words catches you off guard.

Your eyebrows pull together and you lift your head just enough to meet his gaze over the edge of your screen.

The air gets caught in your throat when you notice how close he is. He’s leaned across the table, emerald glinting pools searching your face for a trace of an escaped tear. His hand twitches but he puts it back down before it brushes yours.

"Don’t beat yourself up over it. It’s not your fault, ‘kay?" He murmurs. Almost like he’s sharing a secret with you.

"What? What are you talking about..?" And your voice drops to an equally low level to match his.

"You’re doing great, sweetheart. Trust me." He reassures you but avoids your question with another cheeky smile.

Although this one seems different. Genuine. And soft at the corners.

Unfortunately you don't even get to fully take it in when he's suddenly up on his feet. His eyes dart around the diner before they return to you, a hand raised to ruffle through his dark blond hair.

"I gotta go," he mutters, his attention suddenly drawn down to his empty plate, "Ah - Could you pay for that? You're a real sweetheart."

"..What?"

He doesn't wait for your answer as he slides out of the booth and rounds the table. When he's next to you, he stops for a moment and leans in.

"Oh and - Don't do anything stupid, okay?" He whispers. Then straightens his back again, throws you a flirty wink and a wave of his hand while he bounces off with a casual, "See ya~"

"Uh-" your gaze follows him, perplexed, before you echo his words under your breath, "Yeah... see ya."

You kinda hoped you would.

Wait- why would you do something stupid?

The diner door jingles when Dean steps outside. After a glance left and right, he walks towards a taller guy. He looks not much younger than him, but longer brown hair frames his face, his focus on the papers in his hands.

When their eyes meet, Dean jerks his chin at him and he follows him round the corner and out of sight of the diner.

"And? You got a lead?" He asks hopefully.

"Yep." - He pops the ‘p’ - "Looks like it's our lucky day, Sammy. I think we've got our patient zero." Dean takes charge and heads over to a black Chevy, his hands fidgeting in his pants pockets for the car key.

His bow legs bounce off the concrete floor while Sam follows him with long strides.

"You think it's a deal gone wrong? Or maybe some sort of black magic that backfired?" Sam thinks out loud as he flips through the journal in his hand.

"I don't know man. She seemed pretty clueless to me. Maybe Bobby was right, and it is a curse." The car lock clicks and the trunk flings open.

He pulls out a shotgun and props it up against the lid before he starts rifling through the various contents. "I don't even know what I'm looking for." He sighs.

Sam rubs his temple with equal frustration, "Great. How the hell do we get rid of a writer’s curse?"

"Beats me." Dean huffs, then tosses a set of wooden stakes aside and leans back to run a hand through his hair, "Maybe we should call Bobby again…" - he turns to flash a boyish grin at his brother - "...and then check her out some more?"

Sam groans, "Dude, can you not think with your dick, for two seconds please?"

"What? She’s cute. Plus, she’s got that whole ‘tormented soul’ vibe."

"Seriously? Chances are, that she’s the cause for all of this crazy crap that’s going on in this city."

Dean’s smirk doesn’t falter. Instead he shrugs his shoulders unperturbed, "Let’s pay her a visit tonight. If she turns out to be a witch, we just gank ‘er."

"Dean," Sam scoffs and drags a hand down his face, "I know that look." Dean wiggles his eyebrows.

Sam shakes his head, followed by an incredulous chuckle, "Come on, man, you know you can’t charm your way into her pants. She's clearly not the type for a quick fling. And you’re not exactly Shakespeare."

Dean gets the shotgun out from under the lid and throws it back into the boot. "Oh Sammy, you've still got to learn a lot about women," he says, slamming it shut.

Sam rolls his eyes when his older brother turns to pat him on the shoulder, before he takes off to round the Impala. He pulls the driver's door open while Sam does the same on the opposite side.

"Mark my words, Sammy." He laughs and points a finger gun at him across the roof. "Every girl likes it dirty. Some just don’t show it."

If you reblog, I demand at least one gif of Dean that fits the last line. Cuz I couldn't find the one I was looking for and I want to wake up to many many flirty Dean gifs 😂

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[siriuslylantsov]

idrk how you feel about dad spencer and maybe i am just ovulating BUT for some reason i can't stop thinking about him letting his daughter do his makeup... maybe a toddler stealing her mom's bag and it turns out all fucked up or maybe a teenager using her own stuff like a dare idk it doesn't matter i can just perfectly picture him sitting still and trying not to laugh when he feels the lip gloss ... and then he'd let you both take a hundred pictures and he totally wouldn't be as mad as he pretends to be when he sees the photos you printed out to put on the fridge . .. . #needpsychologicalhelp

sighhhh yes, i've only recently started thinking about dad!spence and it was also when i was ovulating so hashtag twins

thinking about coming home to find spencer and your daughter sitting on the carpet, her little body planted idly on his lap, a mess of your makeup products scattered all over the floor. he looks up at you and you see it. a light blue shade of eyeshadow–matching what you currently have on–pressed onto his eyelids, a bright pink blush over his cheekbones and red lipstick smeared messily over his lips. 

you quickly slap your hand over your mouth to stifle the laugh that threatens to come out, putting your things aside so you can join them on the floor. she turns to you with wide eyes.

“daddy let me do his makeup, mommy. like you!”

“i see that, honey. you made him look very beautiful,” you assure her proudly before turning to spencer's dolled-up face with a giggle. it's even funnier up close.

“yeah, yeah. laugh it up,” he grumbles with an overdramatic eye roll. 

“did you lose a bet or something?” you tease, reaching into your pocket for your phone.

he sighs, helpless, “you know i can’t say no to her.”

“well, you're gonna have to, or i see a lot of this in your future,” you say, waving a hand over his face. 

“i think i could get used to it,” he nods, thoughtful, hands squeezing your daughter's stomach. “think you could do this for me every morning, angel?”

she squirms before agreeing with a firm nod, stretching to grab the red lipstick again. she seems to deem her work unsatisfactory, coating his lips with another layer of lipstick and going past the area she’d already covered, she might cover half his face at this rate.

you quickly raise your phone with the camera app open and take a picture of the scene. it's sickeningly cute. 

“i'll replace your lipstick,” he mutters through the pout on his lips, posing for her lipstick assault.

“don't bother, i don't use that one. it's like 5 years old.”

he groans before carefully peeling the tube from your daughter's little fingers. you reach over and smooth her unruly hair down. you grab the lipstick from spencer's hand and dab a little colour over her lips with a gentle finger under her chin. you hold your phone out again, framing their faces on the screen.

“smile for me, please.”

she grins, full-bodied and eyes crinkling at the corners. she looks just like him. spencer, on the other hand, sticks his tongue out in an act of childish defiance, but it eventually morphs into a smile–identical expressions plastered on the two faces you love the most.

god, you think you might die.

you scoot closer to them, leaning on spencer's body.

“i think this might be one for the ages,” you murmur, turning the phone so they can see. 

“oh god. please don't send that to penelope.”

“i would never,” you gasp, affronted, save for the mischievous glint in your eyes. “she's getting a physical copy.”

[zepskies]

(Not a fanfic request) Imagine spoiling Ben and/or kissing him stupid. Just getting through all the machismo stuff and becoming his safe space. Doing mundane tasks but they never feel mundane because you’re with your best friend. Imagine him growing as a person. Imagine him looking at you with nothing but adoration. Jensen Ackles has so much to atone for— How dare he be so talented. 😭💕

Ahhh you're giving me the warm fuzzies, anon! 🥰 I definitely think this would be the vibe between SB/Ben and the reader in my series Break Me Down, and I've tried to give that sense of them being each other's safe space in many of the sequel stories.

In that story-verse, Ben's the one who makes you feel safe, who gives you the support you need so you don't have to be so strong all the time. While you're the one who makes him feel like there's someone in the world who understands him, accepts him for who he is, but also takes him to task when he needs it.

More domestic headcanons with Ben:

(Whoops, my hand slipped. 😂💚)

You and Ben watch old movies together and argue about the plot, with your modern, feminist view vs. his "traditionalist" view. But he also gives you behind the scenes info whenever he actually knows the actors, directors, etc. -- like the best movie commentary ever.

Ben won't easily admit it, but one of his favorite things is just chilling on the couch with you, flipping through channels, drinking a glass of whiskey or snacking on junk. You using him as a body pillow, basically. Or him with his head in your lap while you scratch his back or run your fingers through his hair. You like playing with his hair, the soft strands.

You also like his hands, long fingers and wide palms. But he likes the gentleness of your hands.

Ben likes taking you out to dinner, but he also likes going grocery shopping with you because he likes picking out new things to try (even as he makes fun of all the "oatmilk this" and "quinoa that").

Late at night, if either of you can't sleep (or after a few rounds of keeping each other up), Ben starts to open up.

He tells you about his life before Compound V, about his mother, about his father, about the world he grew up in, and sometimes, very rarely, about that Russian lab.

Those are the times that you have to hide how much your heart breaks, because you don't want him to instinctively close back up, not wanting to be pitied or seen as less of a man for being honest about what he went through.

He also admits to things he did when he was the "leader" of Payback -- his "glory days." What he doesn't admit, but you can tell just by his tone and demeanor, is that he's less proud and yearning those days than he used to be.

Actually, he wouldn't go back to those days even if he could.

Because now, he has you. He has a real family. That's the main thing that's real to him now.

AN: Again, didn't mean for this to become a mini HC, but there ya go! loll 💚

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[sierracolorstheworldofwords]

The garden-- Jareth x reader

“Darling!” Jareth called, waving towards you, “Come and join me!” 

You looked away from your dirt covered hands and towards him, raising an eyebrow at the fact that he not only sat underneath an overly large umbrella, but that said umbrella was currently parked underneath a tree. He adjusted his large sunglasses, and you felt bad for the poor goblin fanning him with a large leaf as if he was some ancient pharaoh. The chair Jareth lounged upon added to the image, a luxurious throne carved out of golden swirls that towered above his head, only to peek into a carved owl. 

You never said your husband was humble. 

“You know I'm gardening,” you called back, feeling the sun stain your shoulders and the breeze stroke your face, “I don't see why you insisted on coming out here!”

He crossed his arms, and you knew he rolled his eyes by the way he moved his head. Of course, he faked a pout a few feet away from you. 

“Do you not wish to see me dearest?” he asked. 

“Of course I do! But I wish–”

“Be careful what you wish for!”

“I wish you could come and garden with me. But I know you don't like dirt!” now, you pouted, “So, I’ll do it myself.” 

With this, he crossed one leg over the other, now tapping his fingers against the arms of the chair as he watched you, lips pulled into a frown. You were covered in dirt! Your hair, which of course had been beautifully done this morning, woven with flowers, was now affray– a sigh escaped his lips. He rested his chin on his hand, now, lips pulling up at the corners. 

The way the sun shone on you made his heart quiver. The way your eyebrows knitted in concentration, and another sigh left his lips. His gaze traveled to the goblin fanning him. He wished to see the sight of you here, alone, without that idiot who was so eager to please. Jareth frowned at the creature. 

“Go get lemonade. Two glasses. Filled with ice.” 

“But who will–” 

Jareth leaned over his chair, “Did I stutter?” 

The goblin dashed off just as you wiped the sweat off your brow, letting out a breath. You turned towards him, and your cheeks flushed. His gaze made your heart buzz and despite being peeved at being all alone, you couldn’t help but feel your tummy flip. Oh, how could you be such a love sick puppy around him? Every time you two were around each other, it was as if you were children playing a game only you understood. Perhaps, in some way or another, all relationships were a game, or just the ones with his kind, anyway. 

“Precious!” he crooned, “Are your cheeks getting flushed?” 

“No!” 

He smirked, tutting, “Oh but I know you too well, don’t I darling? How dare you try and hide how flustered you are around me! Tell me, won’t you sweetness, what I did to make you so bashful?” He then stopped, before frowning, “The flowers better not be trying to flirt!” 

You sent him a look, giggling, “No!”

“Then, what is it?”

You side eyed him, before going back to work, causing him to scoff.

“You cannot ignore me!”

You ignored him. It was a part of the game, afterall. 

“Darling!”

You stabbed the dirt and dug it up.  You'd been working on the soil here for months now, gently nudging Jareth to let it rain more within the labyrinth, while also making piles of compost. Much to your surprise, there were talking worms who loved the stuff, and happily help you revitalize the soil within the garden. 

“Dearest!”

You hummed softly, a smile spreading across your features. The soil was a dark, earthy brown, and you couldn't help but admire your work. Done with the digging, you grabbed a plant and plopped it into the earth. Flowers really did brighten up the place, though you felt bad for having the goblins steal these. 

“My love!” Jareth called.

You started to dig another hole. 

“Don't ignore me!” He exclaimed, sounding like an annoyed kitten, before rising from his seat, stomping towards you.

His cape billowed behind him like a black shadow, and the sun caused his hair to shimmer like spun sunlight. You couldn’t help but watch the way his shirt exposed his chest, and ignored the urge to slide your hands underneath the silky fabric. Jareth sighed, hands on his hips as he glowered at you. 

“Did you call me, my love?” You asked, voice tilting. 

Towering over you, he scowled, before leaning over and poking your forehead. You laughed. 

“You ignored me!” He cried, “how dare you ignore me?”

“I heard you,” you shrugged,” but I just didn't respond!”

He stomped his foot.

“Don't be upset, lovey,” you cooed, “I’d make it up with a kiss, but we both know you despise dirt. You'd hate to get your clothes dirty.”

He scoffed, and much to your surprise, he grabbed the collar of your shirt, bringing you into a passionate kiss. It made your stomach roll, it took your breath away, and for a moment– you were falling. 

Then, he pulled away with a smirk.

He was so cruel! Doing that to you! Yet, you smiled anyway, and your cheeks heated, and giggles left you. Chuckling, he tutted as you tried to hide behind your hands.

“Oh no, you won't cover your face, darling, especially from me.”

He grabbed your wrists, pulling your hands away, before capturing his lips within yours. It was like meeting the universe. Or perhaps, meeting home. His lips were warm, soft, inviting, and you heard a soft intangible thud as he landed upon his knees. 

Now, you pulled away, “You've gotten dirty.”

He frowned, “I don't give a damn. Kiss me again.”

Despite your messy hands, you grabbed his collar, kissing him again, again, again. It was so fun, this game, or whatever this was. Was love supposed to be fun? In response to your forwardness, soft noises escaped him, and you couldn't help the smirk coating your lips. Of course, you had to pull away. Teasing was a part of the fun, after all.

“Oh dear,” you murmured, “there’s dirt on your shirt!”

He narrowed his eyes, “Yes, my beloved. And there’s dirt on yours! Now, I must demand you abandon this task, don’t you see how it has exhausted you so?”

“What’s in it for me?”

He groaned, rolling his eyes,  “If you let the goblins plant this garden for you, my dear, I will kiss you.”

“Is that it?”

“Oh my darling, my world, my moon and stars! What else could you want?”

“I will let the gardener plant the rest of these blossoms, but you will plant one before I do. Deal?”

He gasped, hands traveling to his face, “My love!”

“Just one.”

“Oh, how you torture me!” 

“Then I'll do the rest.” You replied, turning away from him, only for him to pull you into his lap.

“Fine!”

“Then, my darling, do we have a deal?” 

“Yes, my beloved, we have a deal. How you test me.” 

You felt your lips curling upwards as a gasp left you. 

“Really?!”

“Yes.” he mumbled, arms crossed.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his glittered cheek, before grabbing a plant and shoving it into his hands. He sighed dramatically.

“We have a deal.”

“I know.”

With that, you dug a hole in the dirt with your spade, before he plopped the plant into it. You covered it for him, before smiling at him again.

“We have a deal, darling.” he said.

You chuckled, playing along, “I know, dearest.” 

“You really ought to reward me for the strenuous work.” 

Jareth stood, dusting off his pants with a frown, before offering you a gloved hand. Once you took it, he smirked as the both of you walked out of the garden together, knowing he’d won. Though, he never quite knew he could share a victory until he met you, and he knew that despite his best instincts, he’d kneel in the dirt just to relish you once more. 

[serxinns]

OOOO OGMVOVM SO IDEA:

YANDERE CLASS 1-A IS LIKE SO OBSESSED WITH READER BUT SHE HATES THEM ALL AND AVOIDS THEM, WHAT WOULD THEY DO ABT THIS?

You hated them... you hated them all they were just too overbearing! The flirting thr kissing the unwanted touching everything and whenever you told them to fuck off they'll just coo and baby you saying "thats very mean! Darling! "

They kept always crowded around you it's no surprise there Iida always insisted on study dates every chance you could get your mom would always pressure you to join her private tea party and insist it would be just the two of us the way she said it creeper you out so you would always make excuses or just awkwardly walk away leaving her confused and a bit pissed. Denki is always on your ass whether it be teasing or playing around he kept clinging to you like some puppy it was Cringe honestly...

Izuku yapping about heroes even if you weren't listening, Kirishima and Shoji trying to show off by flexing their muscles, Mina or Hakagure always gripping your arm too tight or hugging you until you couldn't breathe and you had to hit them harshly on the back and they dared to complain about it Aoyama guy always trying to stuff your face with cheese even tho the smell of cheese makes you nauseous, ochako was ok untill she started making me go bake with her and suprise suprise! Momo joins her and it always turn into some competition about anything which takes the fun out of baking

You couldn't even talk to your other friend in PEACE shinsou was your go-to friend ever since your classmates started being overbearing you would rant for hours about them and he'd listen heck he let you chill in his dorms for a while or longer you couldn't be asked for a better friend, but back to the story you were just peacefully talking to shiso at lunch until bakugo and his petty little gang came over there everyone smiling at me expect bakugo ofc just glaring at me like I did something wrong, "is.. there a problem?"

"You damn right it's a problem! Your sitting with hyno shit over there!" He said pointing at Shinso "Bakubro that's not very manly!" He said in a stern tone but you had a feeling he wasn't scolding him, "what everyone's trying to say come sit with us y/n you don't have to be alone!" Mina said in a fake sickly sweet voice I swore I saw her eye twitch a bit but you didn't back down easily "im not alone tho I got shinso and I'm fine where I'm at you can eat your lunch and have fun without me" the squad got silence and awkwardly walked away but sending one final glare at shiso

Another time when you were talking with Kendo and Monoma at 2nd you kinda disliked Monoma or thought he was some crazy lunatic just because he kept ripping on your classmates but the 2 of you weirdly got along mostly because of your distasteful experience with your classmates, if the two of you weren't ranting about how your classmates were, the two of you would talk about hero stuff (mostly monoma bragging about being the best hero) or just talking about your interests and laughing at Monoma's antics and chaoticness

Kendo on the other hand made you feel like you had a friend she knows how overbearing and overwhelming your classmates get, so she would try to pull you away as best as she could despite the glares, snarls, and scowls she swore she heard from them she still wanted to help you one day you were dragged by hakagure and Mina to go to their room to play games but Kendo quickly grabbed the back of your shirt with paint hands to pulled you away "sorry gotta borrow them for a sec!" And quickly ran off

"Thx kendo I was about to snap at them and cause a scene" She smiled at you "No problem! I felt you were uncomfortable and had to do something ugh those classmates never leave you alone huh?" You chuckled your so grateful to have a friend like Kendo "anyways let's hurry and go to this "awesome" place monoma keep spamming my phone about" you playfully rolled you eyes and walked with Kendo

Meanwhile your classmates glared at the window Cleary pissed off it "seems like those pest need a lesson.." izuku said voice laced with vemon

[yailtsv]

Connecticut Sun - Paige’s Daughter

💌 Syn: the uconn team goes to a connecticut sun game

»»— warnings: none :)

»»— notes: this is trash 😃

»»— word count: 741

»»— pair: paige x daughter!oc || lilah bueckers

Today’s the day of a Connecticut Sun game, and as Paige and the girls have done all their schoolwork that's due soon and it's their off day, which means they didn’t have practice today they decided to go to said wnba game with Paige’s daughter Lilah also joining them - she's super excited. Lilah loves watching basketball, she especially loves meeting the players if Paige and the wnba/wcbb players have time. Today the connecticut sun players don't have time to greet Lilah, which Paige told her when they were on their way to Mohegan Sun Arena. She was sad but she understands, and wasn't letting that sad fact ruin the exciting day ahead of them.

Currently it's almost the end of 2nd quarter, almost half time. Lilahs sitting on Paige’s lap watching the game very intensely, while some of the uconn girls are also watching and some are gossiping about whatever they can. Paige, Nika, and Aaliyah are all chatting about going to the mall after this, while also paying attention to the game. With 10 seconds left in the 2nd quarter a player hits a half court making the Sun take the lead into halftime.

"Mama! Mama! Did you see that?!" Lilah shouts excitedly, obviously talking about the half court basket that was just made. "Yeah I saw it baby, it was pretty cool right?" Paige says back while lifting her legs onto the seat in front of her and shifting Lilah so she's sitting sideways on Paiges lap now, seeing as it's halftime and she doesn't need to focus on the court. "Yeah! I wanna do that! When can I play basketball?" Lilah says, mispronouncing basketball "I'll look into some camps alright? But you can always play with us whenever you want." Paige tells her, and Lilah leans into Paige hugging her and then kisses P on the cheek "I love you mama"

"I love you too, princess" Paige tells her tickling her stomach a little, making Lilah laugh and try to get away. Eventually they’ve calmed down and Paige, Nika, and Aaliyah have gone back to talking about things we're gonna do after this, with Lilah adding in her two cents occasionally, but mostly she just sat on Paige’s lap playing with her stuffed bunny.

"Can we go to target?" Lilah chimes in "sure. you want something in specific, or you want to look around?" Paige answers “both. I wanna get tru fru and more legos"

"You are just like your mother" Nika cuts in before Paige can say anything, while twirling one of Lilahs blonde pig tails around her finger. "Hey! I'm raising her, of course she's gonna like the stuff I like." Paige says pretending to be offended, while Lilah just starts to laugh knowing Paige and Nika are just playing around

"You also don't know how to even say no to her." Nika also adds making Paige dramatically gasp "how dare you say that forbidden word around my princess." P says while pulling Lilah into her chest and acting as shield, making her and Aaliyah laugh and Nika to roll her eyes amusingly.

Eventually the game restarted, The four of them spent the rest of the time playing around and laughing, with a few other teammates chiming in every once in awhile. Lilah was cuddled up into Paige's chest the whole rest of game, one arm holding her bunny tightly to her chest and the other tightly holding on to Paige's shirt, as to keep her from moving.

Multiple fans came up to them asking for pictures and autographs, one even gave Lilah a friendship bracelet that she now refuses to take off, no matter what.

Paige, Nika, Aaliyah, and Lilah all went to the mall after the ending of the game - Connecticut won, they all got a few things and Paige bought Lilah some new clothes and shoes. You can't go to the mall with Lilah without stopping at the Disney store, so they also went there and they all bought Lilah some things. Next they went to go get some food, Dairy Queen as requested by Princess Lilah. Then finally, they stopped at target getting Lilah her tru fru, legos, a new stuffed animal, and a few collectible blind bags.

Then they went back to the dorms, having a team movie night with lots of snacks and laughter. It was a good day for the UConn women's basketball team and their baby player.

@melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @authentic-girl03