#i was actually looking at plastic for that reason bc i was worried about the weight lol so ty for the rec

[hrhprincerichard]

[Breathy laugh at Grant's comment about the photos.] You are. [Moans at Grant's response to his photo. A louder moan when Grant talks about everything he's doing for him. Moans out Grant's name again when he gets Grant's picture.] Want you too Grant. So fucking bad. [Groans in frustration.] Want to go down on my knees and show you exactly how much I like that dick of yours. Hearing you moan my name makes me want to be there even more. Watching you stroke yourself, that dick, damn. [Moans because he wants Grant so bad.] God, Grant what you do to me. [Snaps a photo of himself stroking his dick, looking at the mirror intently, moans out Grant's name as his hips jerk up, eyes closing briefly, zooms in on his dick before sending it.]

[Moans when Richard says he likes being in Grant's mouth and under him. Another moan when Richard whimpers, followed by a louder moan at Richard's reaction to his photo. He lets out a breathy laugh when Richard mentions the lake photos, surprised by the fact Richard remembers them and very pleased he liked them that much.] If I knew how much you liked those I would have sent you better ones. [Moans Richard's name when he says he's stroking himself just for Grant]. Yeah Richard, fuck, just like that. God, those fucking hips. That fucking dick. Seeing you moan my name like that is [moans at how much he likes that] so fucking hot. Everything you're doing for me is so fucking hot. God, you're driving me insane. Just seeing you stroke that fucking dick. Hearing you. Fuck, I want you Richard. [Sends a photo of himself stroking himself at the same pace, his hips jerking up, zooming out to show himself moaning Richard's name, his eyes half closed.] Want you so fucking bad I wanna scream. [Moans louder in frustration]

[juyeonszn]

BAD IDEA RIGHT?

PAIRING lee juyeon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 4.10k

GENRES … smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, literally porn with plot. like i’m so insane, enemies to “we fuckin” as reese put it 🥰, frat boy tbz again!!!, juyo is literally so irritating in the first half im not even gonna lie, he’s also a manwhore, making out, reader is a bit of a brat, juyeon has a dirty mouth, kinda dom!juyeon, vaginal fingering, oral (m! receiving), SHOWER SEX !12!1!, he’s hitting it from the back btw, unprotected sex, creampie, juyeon is actually… i don’t even know how to describe him writing his character made me want to claw at the walls lol

SUMMARY deep down you’re fully aware that you’re probably making a huge mistake by giving into juyeon just like every other girl on campus ever has. but paired with how intoxicating his mouth feels on your own and the steam filled bathroom clouding your head, you can’t seem to find a logical reason to stop.

MORE heheheh im back 🤭 oh my god this was actually the cause of a week full of sleepless nights. i genuinely drove myself crazy writing this bc NEED FRRRR like idk i’m so 😭 delusional. ANYWAYS. ANON. THIS ONE IS FOR U. U REQUESTED THIS AND I RAN WITH IT. u wanted more juyeon, i deliver more juyeon ;) also shout out to ally, moni, AND reese for beta’ing 🥺 i love u my cupcakes!! prompt used: 18 <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble

If there was anyone on Earth that you hated more than anything, it had to be Lee Juyeon.

To put things plainly, he was quite literally the bane of your existence. Being around him made your blood pressure skyrocket and gave you migraines that lasted for days. It was insane how one person could affect you so much by doing so little. It seemed as if he thrived off of getting under your skin.

Considering he was the captain and the pitcher of the baseball team, it wasn’t shocking. He was also a member of one of the most popular fraternities on campus. But he happened to be roommates with one of your best friends, and that made it ten times worse.

You’d known Changmin since third grade, along with Kevin and Chanhee. When he mentioned he’d be joining a fraternity in college, you were a bit apprehensive. All you knew about them was what you’d read in YA books and seen in movies. Neither gave them a good rep. Part of you wanted to talk him out of it, but you knew this was something you had to let him do, given you were adults and it was his college experience. At least you still had the other two under one roof.

The first time you met Juyeon was also the first time you attended a frat party. Changmin had just passed his initiation after waiting a year and he invited all of you to celebrate. You were excited for the most part since high school parties were more for an adrenaline rush due to the fact that your parents never let you go to them and you either snuck out or lied about going. You didn’t have to worry about the limitations of parents this go around.

The boys disappeared almost immediately upon arrival, leaving you to fend for yourself in the very crowded fraternity house. You could hardly pass through a room without bumping into somebody’s shoulder or elbow, huffing as you maneuver around the house equivalent to a sardine can. Your drink nearly spilled onto your top multiple times and you were glad you decided against the heels for the night.

You chugged the rest of the jungle juice in your cup as you stepped onto the patio, where it’s just as noisy and just as packed. You’re lucky enough to find an empty lounge chair near the house’s pool, unoccupied and calling your name. When your legs touch the plastic chair, you flinch at how hot it is, most likely from being in the sun all day.

“Woah, do you want a cushion?”

You look up at the source of the voice. You’ve seen him around campus before, and even at Changmin’s games. Lee Juyeon was just one of those people that you had to know, unless you’d been living under a rock. Just like everyone else in the world, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. From this distance, you truly understood why girls would giggle like high schoolers over the guy.

“Uh, sure. Yeah, that would be great actually.” You nod, watching as he wanders towards the shed in the corner of the big ass backyard. He returns promptly, holding his red solo cup between his teeth and one hand on your lower back guiding you to a standing position so he could place down the cushion.

“As a thank you, can I get your name?” He gives you a cocky little smile that should’ve been a warning. And looking back on it, you should’ve seen his true personality sooner, to be completely honest. The way his lips curled at the corners, like a conniving bastard who got off on irritating others.

“It’s Y/N,” you say, messing with your empty cup. “I’d ask for yours, but I kinda already know.”

He laughs at that, scratching the back of his neck. “That’s not surprising.” It’s at this point that you’re starting to see through his sweet facade, but despite knowing better— despite always keeping your guard up— you let yourself fall for it just this once. All because you didn’t want to fuck things up for Changmin. He owed you big time.

“Well, you are a talented athlete.” You didn’t want to fuel what is probably already a massive ego, but you’d rather compliment his baseball skills than the fact that he was infamous for screwing around with half of the girls on campus. Technically, that was a feat of its own since he’d only been in school for a year.

“Oh, so you think I’m talented?” He rested a hand on your chair, leaning down to your level. Confidence oozed from every corner of his being and if you weren’t so self aware, perhaps you could’ve ended up like all those other victims of his charismatic behavior.

“I go to the games for Changmin,” you scoff, glancing away from his face to stop the heat rising up your neck. “I’ve only paid attention to you once or twice.”

“Yeah, sure. Let's go with that,” he bites his lip, blatantly checking you out. “I wouldn’t mind paying attention to you a little.”

“I’m unimpressed, Juyeon,” you snort, raising an eyebrow at him. “Does this shit really work on everyone?”

“I can drop the act if you want, baby. Just let me know when you’re ready to stop playing hard to get.” He stands upright, running a hand through his hair.

Every time you ran into Lee Juyeon after that, he was more and more insufferable. He knew his influence on you, too, if his smug fucking grin was anything to go by. You wish you could just slap it off of him. However, you stood by being the bigger person in any given situation, so that was off the table. (And half of you still felt a moral obligation to not get your friend into hot water.)

“Would it kill you to play nice every once in a while? I do live with the dude, you know.” Changmin whines, trailing you in the supermarket like a lost puppy.

“He’s got a point, N/N,” Kevin adds, humming as he tosses a boxed dinner into the cart. “I get that he’s a little bit of an overconfident douche, but rolling your eyes at him when he hasn’t even done anything just makes it worse on you. And JiChang, too, I guess.”

“Bro…”

You weren’t even sure why he decided to tag along with you and the other boys when you mentioned grocery shopping. In fact, he might as well have stayed his ass home if he was just going to gang up on you the whole time. Chanhee sighs dramatically, bringing your shopping cart to a halt.

“Can we not have a peaceful grocery trip? Is that impossible or something?” His lips form a thin line. “I swear, all we do is talk about how much Y/N hates Lee Juyeon. Can we please move on?”

“Thank you, Chanhee, I agree,” you nod along, walking backwards as you do so and ignoring the faces your friends make. “He makes me want to kill myself.”

“Who makes you want to kill yourself?”

You jump up, frightened by the sudden voice in your ear. Your friends all give you sheepish smiles, as if they’d already tried to warn you. (What shitty jobs they did.) With a hand over your heart, you turn around to meet— speak of the devil— none other than Lee Juyeon himself.

“What are you doing here?” Your eyes narrow and your arms cross over your chest. Luck could never be on your side when it came to this guy.

“Uh, last I checked, this was a public supermarket. Where I can publicly shop. I wasn’t aware that I had to run that by you. So sorry, sweetheart.” He pouts, his expression so theatrical you nearly give in to your constant urge to punch him in the face.

You feel your eye twitch, and it takes everything in you to step back and assess just how bad it would be if you committed murder right now. Changmin comes to your rescue, doing damage control as best as he can while Kevin attempts to talk you out of becoming a criminal.

The two frat brothers do their little fraternity handshake thing and then finally he’s out of sight, out of mind, allowing you to visibly relax. Chanhee purses his lips. “Okay, so maybe I do see where the anger comes from. And holy shit, Y/N, you have the patience of a saint.”

“The person you have called is unavailable! At the tone, please leave a message. When you have finished recording, you may—”

“Goddammit.” You curse, ending the unsuccessful call.

The downside of working far from campus, was working far from campus. You didn’t have your own car and usually relied on one of your roommates for a ride to and from. But now here you are, stranded at work while it’s pouring cats and dogs outside. Kevin was in class and Chanhee wasn’t picking up his phone. You could call Changmin, but you’re pretty sure he also had a class around this time.

Just as you’re about to succumb to your demise, you receive a text from Chanhee.

[2:57 pm] michael jackson: IM SO SORRY AJNSSJNW BUT SOMETHING CAME UP WITH A GROUP PROJECT

[2:57 pm] michael jackson: DONT WORRY THOUGH, IVE GOT IT COVERED UR STILL GETTING PICKED UP

“Could today get any worse?” You mutter to yourself, locking your phone and tossing it into your purse. As if your timing couldn’t be better, you spoke entirely too soon. Your eyes squint at the unfamiliar car rolling up under the carport. Your brows furrowed in confusion, because you had no idea who could be your saving grace. Chanhee was a wild card so who knew who he had on speed dial.

But then the passenger window rolls down and you wish the ground would just swallow you whole. Lee Juyeon grins that stupid fucking grin of his, beckoning you to his car as it unlocks when he shifts into park. You shake your head.

“No way. There is absolutely no way I am getting into that car.” You shout over the pelting rain.

Juyeon tsks, his eyes rolling when he reaches over the center console to open the door for you. “Is there anyone else who would drop everything they’re doing to pick you up in this weather?”

Your lips pull into a flat line. The answer was no, you didn’t have anyone else who would drop everything they were doing to pick you up in this weather. That was the reason Juyeon was here, you supposed. It didn’t mean you weren’t at least going down without a fight, though. Except, Lee Juyeon was a man who was all too comfortable with how expressive you were. Most notably towards him.

“What? Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”

“Fuck you. I’d rather walk.” You seethe, starting straight in the direction of your apartment. Juyeon groans at first, your constant need to prove yourself getting on his nerves for once. Then his eyes widen slightly when he realizes you’re not joking.

The truth was that the rain was freezing and you’d love to be in the shelter of a warm car. In fact, you didn’t really care that Juyeon was the person driving. But you were too deep into the bit now. You couldn’t just turn around and get in the car, for you had a pride to protect at this point.

“Shit.” Juyeon swears under his breath, reaching into the backseat to grab an umbrella. Sure he loved to tease you and rile you up, but he wasn’t cruel. Your friends would have his head on a silver platter if he let anything happen to you.

You pause in your steps when you’re no longer being showered in rain water. Juyeon holds the umbrella over your head with a worried expression. You feel kind of bad for making him chase after you even though he’d already gone out of his way to pick you up. Sometimes you wish your ego wasn’t so fragile. Maybe then you could accept help when you needed it instead of making things worse.

“Can you please stop being so stubborn and just get in the damn car, Y/N? Do you have to make everything difficult all the time?” Usually, pissing you off made him over the moon, but you can tell he’s not exactly pleased at the moment. You swallow thickly, nodding quietly and following him back to his car.

The whole drive to your apartment is silent save for the song playing on his speakers. It’s not as loud in comparison to the storm outside, but you’re grateful that it’s filling the space between you. If only Lee Juyeon hadn’t done such an excellent job ticking you off like a bomb, then maybe you would’ve just hopped in the passenger seat with ease. But no, he had to goad you until you made an irrational decision and now here you are.

As he pulls up to your building, you say a little prayer that you don’t regret your next actions. He stops as close to the stairs as he can, but you turn to him before unbuckling your seatbelt. With a deep breath, you ask, “Would you like to— uh— come inside?”

He glances from you to the stairs and then shrugs, parking in the nearest empty spot. He holds the umbrella over both of you as you make your way to your unit, lightly sprinting so you don’t get anymore soaked than you already are. You figured the least you could do was invite the dude into your home and offer him some hot tea, just so he could warm up before heading back to the TBZ house. Your roommates not being here to make fun of you was also a plus.

There’s still an unspoken tension even after you’ve shed your raincoats and shoes by the front door, settling into your apartment and its coziness. Juyeon sits at the breakfast bar as you busy yourself with preparing the kettle and getting a couple tea bags. His watchful gaze is a little intimidating now that you’ve seen his serious side.

Once you’ve finished making the tea, you set his mug in front of him. You look everywhere but him when you say, “I’m gonna take a shower if you’re okay waiting out here by yourself.” He doesn’t respond verbally, so you take it as your cue to leave.

You turn on the water to let it heat up before gathering your essentials. When you’ve completed your back and forth trip from the bathroom and your bedroom, you’re finally ready to just relax in your shower and forget about today’s events. But how could you ever truly relax with Lee Juyeon in your space, permeating your peace?

As you’re shutting the bathroom door, a foot jams itself between the threshold and stops you. You glance up from the floor to meet Juyeon’s eyes. They’re darker than you’re used to, a deep shade of brown that has your stomach twisting into knots.

“You know, Y/N, this game of cat and mouse is starting to get old,” he takes a step into the steaming room, locking the door behind him and trapping you. “Just admit to yourself that you want me.”

You sputter at his bold words, because you don’t. You don’t want Lee Juyeon. Why would you want Lee Juyeon? “I’m not gonna lie to myself. I don’t want you.”

He laughs humorlessly, closing the gap between you just a little more. You don’t have it in you to back away from him. He reaches a hand up to tuck some damp hair behind your ear. You’re still wet and cold from your stupid idea to walk in the rain, but Juyeon plans to warm you up perfectly. “You sure?”

“Positive,” you breathe.

“Why don’t we test that theory?” Now he’s got you backed into the wall, his face a hair’s breadth distance from your own. “I have a feeling I can change your mind.”

You don’t know if it’s the heat of the bathroom or Juyeon’s lips being so close, but so far simultaneously that has your brain turning into static. Your head feels fuzzy, like you’re watching TV on an empty channel through a blurry lens. You lick your lips, vision trained on his. “Why don’t we?”

That’s all the confirmation he needs to press your mouths together in a searing kiss, hotter than the temperature of the room. You feel him smile against you when you make no move to push him away, instead carding your fingers through his hair. He groans when you tug a bit, twirling the longer strands around your index.

His hands slip under your top, thumbs rubbing circles into your waist. This is a terrible idea. Deep down you’re fully aware that you’re probably making a huge mistake by giving into Juyeon just like every other girl on campus ever has. But paired with how intoxicating his mouth feels on your own and the steam filled bathroom clouding your head, you can’t seem to find a logical reason to stop.

When you part for air, you both start stripping your top layers, resuming your attacks on each other’s lips once you’re left in nothing but undergarments. Juyeon trails kisses along the side of your neck, nipping and sucking wherever he feels fit. You gasp when he finds that particular spot that contributes to the butterflies fluttering about your stomach. “God, you’re so annoying.”

“Yeah?” And despite getting ready to give you the pleasure of your life, his grin against your skin still manages to irritate you. “You hate me so much, huh?”

“Mhm,” you whine as his fingers dip beneath the band of your panties, toying with your sensitive cunt. “Hate you so bad— ah…”

“You might wanna shut up soon, sweetheart,” Juyeon warns, sliding his ring finger between your lower lips. “Or else I’ll give that mouth something to do.”

“I’ll do whatever I want,” you pull his hand from your underwear, kneeling in front of him when he furrows his eyebrows in confusion. Your nails scrape lightly down his abdomen before hooking into the waistband of his briefs, freeing him from the material. It takes a lot out of you to not visibly react at the sight of his cock, hard and flushed to the tip. You couldn’t dare inflate his ginormous ego, the situation you were currently in already doing enough on its own. His size is impressive too, making you wonder just how he expects you to take him like a champ.

“What a fucking brat,” he hisses, your tongue swiping along the underside of his dick. “Always gotta have the last word, don’t you?”

“Mmmm,” you moan, mouth full with just the tip. You’d never been the type of person who cared about size. As long as they knew what they were doing and made you finish, you held no qualms with their length. In fact, you don’t think you ever even paid much attention to anyone’s dick in your life. But if there was anything to back Lee Juyeon’s cockiness, it had to be, well, his cock.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this moment,” he confesses, wrapping your hair around his hand into a makeshift ponytail. “But, fuck, this is so much better.”

The admission shoots straight to your core and you find yourself whimpering, the vibrations against his dick driving him crazy. He has to support his weight with one hand flat to the wall, the other still tightly fisting your hair. With every suck and flick of your tongue, he tugs a little more, the sting on your scalp providing you with more pleasure than pain. You pull off of him to take a breath, jerking him off as you do so.

“Am I meeting your expectations?” You bat your eyelashes up at him, drool sliding down your chin and makeup smeared under your eyes in tear streaks. He groans at the sight of you, forcing you to a standing position so he could kiss you again.

You start dragging him towards the shower, unhooking your bra and stepping out of your panties. He raises an eyebrow at you, amused. “You want me to fuck you in the shower, baby? Have you slipping all over my cock?”

“Duh,” you can’t help but roll your eyes at his question, practically pawing at his underwear to get him out of them fully. “Did you think I sucked your dick on the bathroom floor for fun?”

“That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble one of these days.”

He kicks them off, reconnecting your lips as you step into the shower. The hot water hits your back almost like a massage, synchronously getting in your mouth as you make out with Juyeon aggressively. It’s like he can’t get enough of you, big hands kneading and groping everywhere and nowhere all at once. You feel insane, especially with how good of a kisser he is. It’s like you’re on cloud nine and nothing’s capable of bringing you down.

When he’s finally lost his patience, he spins you around, pressing you cheek first to the shower wall. You feel him against your lower back, his lips leveling with your ear. In spite of acting as if he had himself under control, you can hear the pant in his breathing, deep voice a little desperate than usual. He has a hand gripping your thigh and picking up your leg.

“No protection?” He asks, his cock already gliding between your folds in anticipation.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head as best you can with his body sandwiching you to the tiled surface. “Wanna feel you raw.”

“Fuck, you can’t say shit like that to me,” Juyeon groans into your ear, giving no warning as he spits down your front and hikes your leg higher, thrusting into your cunt. “You’ll make me wanna stay buried in you forever.”

You moan, hand coming up to hold the side of his head as he fucks you into the shower wall. If someone were to ask about this very moment, you weren’t too sure how you’d defend yourself. A moment of weakness, perhaps? But if a moment of weakness felt this fucking good every time, you might fall into a habit of judgment lapses.

He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, nibbling and biting your shoulder and the surrounding area with each snap of his hips. The angle he drives into you at has stars forming at the back of your vision, the tip of his cock brushing that one spot deep inside of you whenever he thrusts up. You don’t even think his entire dick is in you as he does this, but you also don’t really have the mind to care, way too focused on memorizing the veins of his shaft with your walls.

You’re far too gone to consider the consequences of your actions, the horizon of your release just beyond your fingertips now. You’d never needed someone so viscerally before, so carnally. Yet here you were, sucking Lee Juyeon’s cock in with your pussy like you were a damn vacuum. The sounds you’re making bounce back and forth on the walls, no doubt louder than the shower water itself.

“I— I-I’m so— fuck,” you mewl, words wobbling. “I’m so, so close, Juyo.”

“Yeah, baby?” He sighs in your ear, nudging your sensitive clit with his thumb while raising your leg as much as he physically can. “Me too, where do you want me?”

“Inside,” you don’t think you even make sense anymore, babbling as he continues to fuck you stupid. “Please. Want you to cum inside me.”

Juyeon grits his teeth, pleased with himself that he didn’t orgasm right then and there. He uses his last ounce of strength to get the two of you off together. “C’mon, sweetheart, cum for me.”

The fogginess subsides pretty quickly after you’ve finished, your brain registering what just happened almost instantaneously. If you weren’t so hypersensitive, you would’ve pulled him out yourself and scrambled to flee the scene. (And maybe even the country.) There are many more rational thoughts running through your head now. The entire trajectory of your life has just been changed, whether you realized it or not. But the biggest issue was:

What the hell do you do now?

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[agendabymooner]

Pookie bear how are yaaaa 😭 hope your research is going well, mine is... *side eyes empty doc* well.

Ours is supposed to be a product development of some sort of food that doesn't exist yet, so my group is exploring the use of pinipig as oatmeal replacement in food bars. Revolutionary ✨

Anyway HOW ARE YOU that is my first question

My second one is: why are you so amazing??

And my last one: which among the Dad Drivers do you see would be the dad that would eat whatever their kids set in front of them, even if it looks inedible 😭

Love you so much ❤️✨

it's 1 am here and i have no intention of going to sleep~

imma answer the last question first: which dad!f1 driver would eat whatever food their kids would set in front of them?

now i have like a thought in mind: which dad!f1 driver would eat whatever food because of a reason? just hear me out~

daniel ricciardo's kid (say beau ricciardo) would think that he's so clever when it comes to pranking his dad (mind you, he would be as young as six - but he's a fucking menace bc he's literally danny's copy). beau would say that, "daddy i made food with mummy!" then daniel would get excited, but beau would hand him a plate of those plastic food and veggies you get from those sets of grocery store toys. beau would be laughing and would say, "hah! i got you!" then daniel would fuck around a little bit and actually put a plastic carrot in his mouth with a nonchalant shrug. beau would look at daniel like, "oh my god my dad is batshit 😟"

charles leclerc's eldest twins, hervé and jules, would attempt to bake chocolate cookies from scratch - uncle estie is so freaking good at baking cookies - and charles was their guinea pig. they'd proudly present it to him and he would be so freaking hungry that he just put a chunk of it in his mouth. the cookie he ate was salty but he wanted to appease his kids so bad that he just smiled and nodded as if it was good (he eventually spat it out and jules and hervé pretty much accepted that their cookies were shit because it was their first try).

sebastian vettel would genuinely eat the food his kids made for him and would even critique it. he did that with his foster daughter barbie when she first cooked the cuisine that she was taught before and he actually loved it- though he did ask if barbie could add more chicken into the adobo.

yuki tsunoda and his daughter hana would make a bento together so she can have some for her lunch in school. well, yuki would of course make her food because her lunch needs to be edible but hana, who was just preschool age, would be messing around with the rice and the meat for the rice and even mix in some sauce into it and would tell yuki, "papa, eat breakfast!" with the proudest grin on her face. yuki would eat it and would actually love the food- though he was kind of worried what she had put into it because he wasn't looking.

note: to answer your first questions 1) i am ✨on my seasonal depression shit and i actually am going to a clinic for a check up tomorrow✨ and 2) if i was amazing i would not be sad and frustrated rn 😆

i do hope that your research goes well! why is product development a big thing in filipino curriculums tho- i coulda sworn that i've heard at least some of my filo peers (friends) talk to me about product development. but i hope you're doing alright bb! ��

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

[Alarm meme sfx] [breaks door] Hallo! I have come up with a suggestion for you!

Which rhythm games do the mercs play, or would play? And why?

There's a lot of different mechanics —such as judgment lines, kinds of notes, spam— and characteristics to explore and compare, so go wild! I'll add some links as guidance: Arcaea, Phigros, Lanota, and Project SEKAI.

Take care! > ◡ <

What Rhythm Games Do The TF2 Mercs Like and Why?

————————————————————

Hello to you too! This is such a cool ask! Also, mutual appreciation comment: Love you and all the kind reblogs from you 🫶🏻

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I haven't played a lot of rhythm games, so I hope you like these 😭

————————————————————

Gotta get this out of the way, the reason they all love these games besides the reasons specified is because of the praise. These guys are so desperate to be told they're doing a good job it's crazy.

————————————————————

Demo- Rhythm Heaven, this man loves cute things. He definitely gets upset about the issues that come with a lack of depth perception. He makes it work, though, and always tries and has fun regardless of if he does well or not.

Engineer- Dance Dance Revolution. He's insane. You'd think a middle-aged man who's used to sitting, sketching, designing, and creating things in his room wouldn't be the best at DDR, but he's so good. He loves to dance!

Heavy- Arcaea is one that he really likes, but I don't think he has a favorite. Rhythm games are hard for him. There's lots of room of error. He loves how like absolutely hard the music in Arcaea goes, so he'd definitely pick that one a lot more than others, if he had to choose.

Medic- Lovebirb. He loves music (so he's already a fan of rhythm games), and now he can add birds into it!? Sign him up. He adores the art style and the idea of birds finding love. It's beautiful to him!

Scout is a killer at Beat Saber. It's almost scary. Once he gets focused on it, good luck beating his high score. So quick tie into another headcannon, Medic loves music and has tried to play Rush E multiple times and struggles, (Ik Beat Saber and acutal instruments are different but like omg they all look super hard.) Scout on second try did Rush E perfect on Beat Saber. Medic was mouth agape. He's a fan of having to spam things. He loves quick moments because he's always in need of a way to burn off energy. (This man is so Jerma coded I'd be so wrong not to say he didn't play the same game Jerma played with Miku even if it isn't a rhythm game 😭).

Sniper- Osu! Laser accuracy. He could be playing the hardest level out there and is pinpointing it perfectly. He is the worst to try and play against. He's almost as bad as Scout, but Scout doesn't really get why people are so shocked at how good he is. Sniper is smug about it.

Spy- Just. Dance. King. This man has played every just dance game out there. He's too good at this game. It's worrying. He's not even really a good dancer or anything. But this man has every dance locked into his memory. He loves the songs and also likes the idea of being a pop star, but he won't ever admit that.

Soldier- Guitar Hero. This man can shread on the guitar. Like Spy and his pop star dreams, he loves the idea of being a rockstar, but he's willing to admit that. I actually think when he was younger, he saved up money and bought himself a guitar and an amp and used to play it all the time. But as he grew up, he didn't have time for it. But now, anytime someone brings up video games, he's super excited to whip out the plastic guitar.

Pyro- Melatonin. Genuinely not a fan rhythm games. It's a sensory overload. Loud noise, lots of movement, and too many things to pay attention to. (Just like me fr). The minute they saw Melatonin, they were thrilled and fell in love instantly.

————————————————————

I'm sorry if this wasn't as good as my other's. I had a hard time with this bc I don't play rhythm games 😭 it was still super cool to do!

[disventure-rewrite-takes]

hopping on the self insert train

if I was in dcas I would be like the 1 person who gets 0 romance drama (bc aro) and that woud be incredibly cool of me. also I'd sweep the flag challenge lol, just nab it and then hide up a tree. watchu gonna do abt it

anyway i would openly be like "yeah romance isn't for me. i do not wana date. i am aro" and the fanbase would be like "what does that mean" and ship me with ppl lol. that could be the Thing In The In-Show Fandom I Complain About. also i'd call out the characters for being dumb bitches, sometimes gently, sometimes. less.

"lmao the attempted murderer is worried about preserving her tv image, give me a break"

"okay don't take this the wrong way. genuine question do you think your beef with the eight year old is justified or are you just upset your pride got wounded."

"ah yes let's all trust the attempted murderer who broke connor's leg she is clearly not being deceitful that's so beneath her" (i would bring up the s2 finale so much just to put things into perspective)

"yul can you die"

"oh my god hes finally communicating honestly with you and you immediately lie about a boyfriend. come on man"

"buddy. bestie. mate. i cannot spell this out clearer. SHE DOES NOT LOVE YOU. NO YOU CANT FIX HER"

"my brother in christ you accused him of cheating on his bf then got said bf voted off for entirely petty reasons why do you think he doesn't like you"

"grett i swear to god you deserve better than this guy"

(btw in that one specifically i would straight up be gabby 2.0 and yul would hurl microaggressions at both of us. except im white and idk if there's any known about derogatory terms for aros but im sure yul would invent some especially for me. although knowing him he'd probably just call me "restarted" and "acoustic". I'd be more offended by the laziness than the words themselves)

"yes i do in fact play an acoustic instrument but somehow i get the vibe that's not what you meant. look if you really wanna add ableism to your pokedex of bigot labels then at least don't be a pussy about it. say the word you really wanna call me. go on. say it. say it you coward."

and in the recent episode (from the peanut gallery, begrudgingly sitting in team ally bc there's more space on the bleachers than team jake and i do not gaf who wins as long as it's not riya) "HEY. HEY KRISTAL. CHECK RIYA AND YUL'S BACKPACKS THEY DID NOT GATHER SHIT WITH THOSE STUPID PLASTIC TOOLS. NO WAY IN HELL DID THEY ACTUALLY MINE TEN DIAMONDS BEFORE SCORPION SHIT WENT DOWN"

- @cornfields-td-nonsense

corn i absolutely love your intern 😭🙏🏼 yul would DEFINITELY make up a new slur for us aros on god

[fbfh]

Pleaseee I just need a story where the reader is from our modern world and tedros falls inlove with them

anon my darling my dearest my beloved you don't understand how much of my brain space this occupies. bc when you first show up in that fucking field of pink and red flowers you're probably in jean shorts and a crop top. maybe a flannel. you walk confused through the gilded halls, getting as many pictures as you can of the ornate archetecture and glasswork, worrying you won't believe it yourself if you don't have proof. you have no idea how you somehow ended up in a castle that looks straight out of the royaltycore side of pinterest you've stumbled across a few times, and you have no idea where you're even supposed to be going. then the fairies catch up to you. they take one look at you, then start tugging at your hair and clothes, trying to drag you somewhere to get you cleaned up before orientation, so you do the natural thing: start filming them on your phone and haul ass out of there. you get even more lost through the mazes of halls and staircases and breezeways as the fairies keep chasing you. you lose them for a minute, and unbeknownst to you, standing at the hallway is noneother than Tedros. you catch his attention for many reasons, your blinding beauty, the rush of energy you cary with you that seems to sweep him along with it, the lack of restraining your personality for the sake of etiquette. most notably, is that to him you're barely dressed. usually you'd be wearing bloomers and a corset with a dress that's at least tea length over it, but here you are, legs out in front of god and everybody. you don't seem the least bit phased by this either, but before he can snap out of the trance you've put him in, Professor Dovey is sweeping down the halls toward you.

"oh my..." she says, taking in your appearance. she turns to the fairies. "yes, I think you're right. this time does certainly call for an exception."

amid your miriad of protests, she takes your arm, gliding you through the halls with her.

"hush child, I'll explain everything." she respons warmly, bringing you to the doors of the groom room. she sits you down, and with a flick of her now glowing finger, everything in the room springs to life. soft smelling perfume sprays you, your nails are maincured, your skin is moisturized, your hair is done up all pretty. before you know it, racks of dresses are wheeling themselves out, spinning around you as Professor Dovey skims through them, picking one out for you as she explains everything. you don't really get a grasp on the situation until you're sitting on blue and glass pews surrounded by dozens of girls in literal ballgowns. you're wearing a ballgown too, the kind of thing you see used as clickbait on wish or aliexpress, but this is real and it fits you like a glove. you touch the side of your bodice, where you managed to shove your phone when Professor Dovey wasn't looking. you can't bring yourself to focus on anything as all of this sets in, but when a rowdy group of boys burst in and begin sword fighting, you're pulled out of your daze. one of them gets grazed on the arm, and it strikes you that these are actual swords. they're not dulled movie props or plastic kids toys or diy cosplay accessories, these are literal metal blades getting tossed around like it's no big deal. it's probably not a big deal to them, you realize, they clearly know what they're doing. as you lose yourself in thought, beginning to accept the situation you've found yourself in, Tedros fights through the crowd of boys in front of him more determined than ever. you caught his eye, and he'll stop at nothing to stand before you and throw you his rose. he hasn't been able to stop thinking about you since that moment he saw you in the halls, full of more life and vigor and passion than any girls he's ever met. he's dying to know you, yearning to know everything about you, absolutley desperate to sweep you off your feet. he has his sights set on you, and with a love this strong, he's sure you must feel the same. he wonders if this could be love at first sight. you're pulled from your thoughts as the girl next to you, blonde and wearing a purple dress, taps your shoulder.

"I believe that was intended for me." she states with a condescending smile, motioning to the rose that somehow appeared in your lap. your eyes flare, her attitude not slipping past you for a second. Tedros is about to protest, tell Beatrix that his rose landed in the right hands, when you scoff, clearly surprised and a little offended at her tone. Beatrix expects you to hand her the rose, and maybe apologize to her for being in the way. instead you look straight at her, and speak so informally she thinks she must have imagined it.

"okay, dickwad." you state, not an ounce of shyness to be found. you scoff, leaning towards Tedros. "I guess someone hasn't had her morning coffee..."

Beatrix's mouth hangs open in shock as a hush falls from the nearby girls who'd heard the exchange. Beatrix knows that Tedros is going to defend her honor, insisting you apologize and insuring you never speak to her in that way again. instead he lets out the loudest, most sincere, organic laugh any of them have ever heard. You chuckle along with him, not sure what was so funny about that exchange, but you can tell there's no malice or insincerity to him.

"You are just full of surprises..." he muses, once he's caught his breath. he takes your hand in his, and you watch with wide eyes as he presses a kiss to your knuckles, before falling in line with the rest of the boys, more sure than ever that you're his true love. he just kissed the back of your hand. he literally just kissed the back of your hand. the only time you've ever actually seen that is in the occasional straight to hulu period drama, and you never expected to experience that in real life. you also didn't expect it to fill you with butterflies. you and Tedros both find yourselves stealing glances for all of orientation while Beatrix stares daggers at you the whole time. you're sure this school will be interesting to say the least.

[heckthis-heckallofthis]

My brain will not let go of this AU so:

CB Cells getting transfused into Friends HC (?)

CB1 refers to the first body, CB2 refers to the second body. Assume none of the main group died because I will not accept this tragedy. They're put in friends for a REASON. If you don't remember their names, here's a Twitter post showing all of them. Read more separator bc this post is LONG.

RBCS + U1196

CB1 cells probably get so traumatized. I can hear AA2153 SCREAMING so loud to try to not to get pulled away into some unknown environment. BD7599 would already have a plan for when this happens and tries to pull both his juniors back, but because he tries to get both of them, it fails and he falls into the syringe anyways.

1196 technically could've escaped (probably was far enough away not to get pulled in) but she can't let AA go, that's her twink. So she goes along anyways.

I'm honestly surprised they never show what it looks like inside the syringe, centrifuge or blood storage. AA would knock on the plastic to try to get back out, he's the last one to pass out from the cold. I don't think they'd be conscious during the centrifuge, but imagine waking up to see you're all bunched up tightly with all your coworkers, that's crazy.

First one to wake up would also be AA, gets up screaming and looking around his surroundings expecting something horrible or grim. Only bad thing he figures out is that the body feels a little colder than he's used to. (Maybe Friends lost a bit too much blood in an accident.)

Wakes up and looks for his friends, CaWF blood cells see him and asks if he's okay (he's as pale as a ghost from how stressed he is) He doesn't hear them and continues looking anyways.

By the time he finds NC8429, BD is already conversing with the native RBCs. He doesn't even notice AA and NC until they tap his shoulder. I bet he'd be so glad they're alive he'd hug them fr.

1196 is killing off the bacteria that hitched a ride with the syringe. When she tries to phagocytose it she hits another neutrophil (2145) who's doing the same thing. They stare at each other for a second before 2145 cuts it in half to share it. 1196 is a little confused but hey, she got some, that's a win in her book.

They all still have a little PTSD so they're all a little flighty, F!RBCs welcome them a lot but AA is searching every capillary, vein and artery for something amiss. NC and BD are both suspicious of being transfused again but aren't as bad as AA. Once F!RBCs explain they were a bit shorthanded from a big bleed they probably stop being so worried about having to work in a bad environment.

CB2 gang have exactly no idea what to expect. They look around and are so confused because that's literally not where they were when they were last in the body. Somehow they got teleported to the entirely other half of the body?? They're in the oxygenated blood vessels despite last holding CO2???

Their map is entirely wrong now, they keep walking into vessels to be met with dead ends where a road should be, and walking into roads with tons of branches when it should be only 1 straight walkway. What confuses them even more now is how there are female RBCs along with only male neutrophils.

They'd also be shocked at how clean the vessels are, no rust, no residue, no scarring. I'm sure they'd figure out eventually they're in a different body.

Once they meet up with CB1 RBCs they rush off to finish their work (if this body needed a transfusion, it must need their help as soon as possible right?) By the end of the day they ran more laps around the body more times than they've ever had in a day because the blood pressure's good and the calves are actually doing their job and pumping blood like they should.

By the end of the day they probably feel so good with how easy it felt to do all of that. They try to do one last round before the lung cells are like "uh, guys? Y'all already finished your quotas for the next week, take a rest." The cells in Friends actually have reasonable work requirements and resting times, so the other RBCs are staring at them weirdly like "why are they going through their quota so fast?" "They want extra income from overtime or something?"

I think AA and DA4901 both try to fight the lung cell on that like "What do you mean?? You guys have oxygen right there, let us take it!!" And the lung cells like "uhh legally I can't do that, your colleagues want to do their job too y'know?"

BD is so pleasantly surprised, he even asks "So I can just, go home?? At 5 pm??" And confusedly the F!Lung cells ask him back "you need to ask for permission??" He pulls NC along with him to go explore the body's facilities and tries to pull AA with him but fails.

QJ0076 and SS1104 pass out on the floor. They're lying there while DA and AA ask around to make SURE that they can't do any more work. Some RBCs walk up to them very concerned that they don't have enough salary to afford an apartment or house and offer them to stay at their place.

At some point some F!RBCs ask for both of their contacts in case they (SS and QJ) need anything in the future. "Contact? What?" And the F!RBCs get even more concerned that they don't even have a phone. They offer to argue with their boss about salary before SS explains they're not native to the body so it's ok.

I think each group will share an apartment together at the start so they won't lose each other and also be able to save more money until they fully establish themselves into the body.

BD and NC already finished exploring the commodities of half the body by the third day while AA is walking and searching for 1196 (little does he know she's patrolling the lymph to get used to the body's vessels and migration routes because she's crashed into walls trying to migrate so many times it's getting embarrassing)

SS would also be exploring the body and maybe read more into the labor laws he never thought could exist, but get distracted by the various shops. QJ is following him and dragging him into various shops filled with delicious looking food

DA is running through the body with NO oxygen in his hands to burn his energy. Accidentally crashing into IM1235 and clamouring to help her pick up her oxygen because when that happens in his old body it'd be a big deal. 1235 tries calming him down because my god he's rushing and so anxious.

"you're one of the blood cells from outside!" And she quickly starts a conversation with him. Asks him if he's got any plans for the day and asks him to deliver her oxygen with her (he's so glad he met her bc of this)

She takes a break and brings him to the spleen but he's still worried about not doing his job enough. BD and NC are there too (by coincidence) they're all super confused by the spleen only having male hosts, DA is fine with it (bisexuality). BD wouldn't mind too much (he just talks to them casually like a guy) and NC wouldn't know what to think. They'd also call him cute.

DA gets distracted only for a bit so 1235 offers to let him deliver her oxygen (her delivering the box and he holds 1 tank of oxygen) Because he isn't used to having the energy to smile at the people he's delivered to, he always has that resting bitch face that scares the hell out of cells. 1235 will look like :D while he's just >: |

Eventually SS and QJ manage to buy a phone for each of themselves, along with urging the others to buy one for themselves too. AA was skeptical until they tell him he can use it to talk to 1196 whenever he wants, in which he then got one without another question.

1196 communicates with 2145 through 0% words and 100% staring and gestures. 3033 watches them like "what the fuck" and 2145 stares back at her and she's like "I know, right?"

AA might get the wrong idea at first bc 1196 is spending a lotta time with him, but it's okay, because 2145 is just helping 1196 integrate with the other neutrophils and explained (once again, without words) that his target is KT Squad leader.

She got a phone super early because HT thought getting her one is less trouble than having to get one of the other neutrophils to send his message to attack. The other neutrophils are super confused about how she detects antigens without a receptor, but eh, they don't judge her much for it.

AA loves to send her pictures everyday, at first he wasn't used to using it, so he kept taking blurry and out of focus images, but eventually got the hang of it and even managing to take selfies. She reacts to them like "wow" and "keep up the work" it sounds unenthusiastic, but she loves them.

QJ and SS fully exploring the limits of their phones spams gifs in the group chat whenever they have the free time (which is almost every day) and bothers DA by spamming him. DA (also not used to the phone) just sends "Stop." @ them (they don't stop)

SS makes fun of DA for not knowing how to use his phone but he's not that much better either, only just a few days ago when the KT squad asked him why his profile was blank when he realized he could change it. Also he's in the KT squad group chat, not because they added him in there but because he asked to be in there and wanted to see what they were talking about.

DA is the type of guy to not understand that to interact with his phone efficiently you just tap it lightly, so he always presses kinda hard into it and complains that it's really inconvenient. I think probably the same thing happens with BD but I think NC (who is way more proficient since he has less experience with ANYTHING so he absorbs knowledge easier) would be able to teach him

By next week they're finally allowed to deliver their own boxes again but their habits really, REALLY die hard. They try not to rush and enjoy the journey but they're already so used to sprinting across the body they think that a light jog is normal pace (it's not) so even though they tried not to Speedrun it, they still manage to finish it faster than what normal rbcs are supposed to do.

What's worse is on their days off, CB2 gang has no idea what to do because they've never had one before. SS is off to terrorize the KT squad again (he's like an even worse drill sergeant but this one isn't bound by the legal system to not mistreat them)

DA is sprinting around the body again until 1235 asks if he wants to join her girls only party. She knows he's not a girl but also, she knows he's kinda lonely so invites him anyways. He gets a silly bow on his head and his nails painted while all the other girls are looking at him a little confused.

"uh… RBC, he's not a girl… is he….?" "Oh no no!! It just sounded like he's never got to do something like this back where he was from so I wanted to show him!!"

He's happy about having a full 24 hour day to relax and have fun without worrying about ANYTHING, even if he is a little paranoid. He doesn't show it on his expression but I'm sure 1235 can tell he likes it. Not sure Abt the other girls tho.

1235 takes a photo with him together and tells him to send it to his friends to show them how much fun he's having. SS calls him a pretty boy while QJ is jealous he didn't get invited. DA still doesn't know how she got the image that she took with her phone, on his phone, and how he sent that image that he didn't take, to his friends.

POV: You are BD7599 asking the other senior RBC's why the spleen and liver only have hosts and no hostesses only to learn that in this body EVERY RBC is into men. Even the male presenting ones. Also you get hit on by other RBC guys.

I don't know which is funnier, making NC just a little gay and figuring out he is because of the hosts in the organs that host RBC's, or making him not into men at all and being stressed out about how to explain that to the super nice and gentlemanly hosts in the various organs.

AA tries out the liver's host bar after a moderate drinking night and has that exact same scene of him when 1196 comes up and covers his boner except he's with a guy instead and he's even more embarrassed.

SS loves minding the KT squad's business. Cross is stressing Abt what to message 3033 and he's like "c'mon, you literally kill for a living, how hard can it be??"

DA writing out things like "Closest glucose shop" "nearest vending machine" in the CB2 group chat bc he's confused.

They learn about video calls and lose their minds. SS tries to show the others the KT cells he's been tormenting but his hand is too shaky to see anything. DA looks like those old people who use a phone for the first time, putting it too close to his face. QJ manages to figure it out but accidentally presses the end call button and can't figure out how to rejoin the call.

Similar thing with CB1 but NC is actually using it properly while he's trying to teach BD how to angle his phone properly, and AA is holding it fine but he keeps aiming it at 1196 bc he loves looking at her.

DA asks around for a map of the body because he's still not used to the vessels and every RBC just advises him to look at his phone (he doesn't know that his phone has a map app) Only when he sees IM1235 open his app up to add in her address does he realize. "THERE WAS A MAP IN HERE THE WHOLE TIME??"

When they deliver to Dendritic cell he shows them ALL his beloved lactic acid bacterium. NC, SS and QJ find it cute and or impressive.

When they deliver to M cell and he spews his apoptosis thing. They turn to stare at DA when he says that he feels like it's barely worth it to keep living. Depending on how healed DA is he'd slap him and tell him to get it together or he'd be like "Yeah."

[the-acid-pear]

My dream tonight was fucking insane. I'll just write bullet points.

First off all the baki anime was getting rebooted so this time they'd fucking made Baki a furry. Not as in he was anthro, no, he had to put on a fucking suit (it was a cute big cat :) ) and i was so maaad about this change because the old outfit was iconic enough and this was being made to appeal to a larger audience or something.

Also i think they killed off Jack Hanma or something i was mad about that too

Next thing i remember I was outside, in some hike. I always dream about being outside.

I don't remember shit i did except for the fact when i was tired i decided to lay down in the middle of the fucking field for no reason and i threw a pillow and a blanket and it was a wide thick blanket this magenta color, close to this one,and i laid down i started seeing in the horizon with the clouds all going down one was coming over which very clearly brought rain and i knew rain at night while i sleep on the grassy ground was like a death sentence but i just didn't feel like moving to the house a few blocks by where other people lived because i'd fumbled it pretty hard before.

My death wish wasn't granted however because one woman and some maybe male pal of hers came over. She was blonde and had an eyepatch. I pretended to be fast asleep so she wouldnt try to move me. She didn't, instead, she covered myself with a plastic wrap (head to toe btw i got scared for a second about it but decided to just trust her y'know?)

Lady said i looked cute and retold a story about one time i helped her, something related to her eye prob. I think her name was "one-eyed Jackie" btw. Also, i didnt feel like an adult in this dream, i felt like a kid, put a pin on that.

Now cozy and safe i decided to quote a poem from memory to sleep a poem which does not exist and of which i dont remember enough to write it down but the main theme was about holding on against the unstoppable crushing pressure and this was all illustrated on a comic in a dark pool where the character (fucking PG btw idk how he didnt short circuit also im really normal yes thanks for asking) started floating but then there was no water and he was just gripping the edge to not fall and he never did but the poem ended with the repetition about gripping on. It was a somber one but bc my loving nature i just wanted to save him tm and i kept (no pun intended with that last one) thinking of two people walking across different landscapes like a documentary montage. It was nice.

Unfortunately i was almost ran the fuck over while i was trying to dream in peace.

I jumped to the side and avoided the truck but my devices were there and i told to Jackie "My phone is there :( " and she was like no they retrieved it now stop worrying about that are you ok?!

I think it was then when it fully transformed into a movie, or perhaps the earlier scene with Jackie was, either way, i am now no longer me and im instead L.L.

And for dear life I'd not explain to you what happened in this movie although i think they mentioned Sam Raimi made it? It did have some horror things like uh, a fucking werewolf. Like out of our pals, he was just a werewolf and he'd transform each part whenever he wanted. It was nuts, hilarious too.

There was a big bad and his team too at one point they set our little clown shack (bc it was the size of a letrine yet like 8 people were inside it) on fire.

The ending was nutty too actually papyrus fucking died i just remembered. There was this giant freezing mechanism and he (who btw didnt look like paps he was naked his head was very rectangular and cartoony and bigger than his arms, also he was my height) was like "i'll just wait for them to come back to talk this out! :) and i was like PAPYRUS NO! but then it was too late he was head to toe frozen with a smile still on his face....... tried to whipe the moisture from his face maybe w some heat we'd save him but a girl in my team just was like cmon we need to go so i had to leave him.

And then we faced the big bad who was literally just some guy who kinda looked like uh. Hang on. Well i cant find his name but the guy from bg3 who looks like a fucking clown and people love to hate or something. Except w longer crazier hair. And he did fucking kil my epic werewolf bestie but we managed to get rid of him locking him up Somewhere i guess for him to die.

and then we were all coming back from the intensity of it all and the girl from before is like "you gotta admit, that was the best terrible movie ever" and i didnt dare to say i actually loved it

also i forgot if i mentioned this but this movie had a fandom and fanart and somoene had drawn my wolfy pal (who my brain keeps insisting on calling trevor but im pretty sure that's an unrelated werewolf. Also this guy i remembered his looks, his fur was grey and black but he was pale and blonde w short hair sticking up, like, platinum blonde) like "yeah im a werewolf despite that never being explained ¯\_(ツ)_/¯" which is why when it happened i didnt question it, ironically.

anyway i think i brought up the poem and this is when you take off that pin because now one of my childhood friends from primary school (or a representation of her) started talking about how she wrote a following poem or maybe i was talking about a different one idk but she talked about how it opened doors in her life and she annoyed me so i went to sit somehwere else.

And i remember this scene where someone went to sleep so we were told to be silent and a friend was looking thru my drawings adn they were all things i never drew of characters that dont exist and it had this tangible mischevious energy like we were two kids trying to not laugh annoying each other who might get in trouble.

Then i finally sat down in a corner with a friend, could have been my childhood friend (only one i still talk to who's male) or my platonic partner (eye, if you're reading this, hi! ^_^) and we just started talking about friendship, with him mentioning i'd go talk to the rest in the main table instead of lingering here alone but i conter argued i'd eventually do it, it'd just take me a long time. After all, it did take me quite a bit to get close to him, did it not? this was fine.

I woke up so groggy i wouldnt have been able to tell you my own name if you asked me but that whole thing just felt like, such a peaceful story. So fun ! Sad i couldnt save the wolf but you cant save everyone out there tbh

[blackmageeljin]

Full Demon Lucifer Gloves!!

Took longer than expected but still happy with the result! Details below on the how to below for any other Lucifer or Alastor (since they have the same red tips when Luci is full Demon) cosplayers who might want to know ^^

(please excuse the photo quality, my hand is very sweaty and I can't put it back on until it fully cures now >>)

The short version: just black costume gloves with press on nails and covered in red nail polish.

The long version:

First things first, for this whole process, to protect my hand I wore a cheap disposable latex glove under the costume glove. Was willing to accept it might wind up perminately attached, but it peeled right off! Huzzuh.

I happen to have these laying around bc I do resin craft, if you don't try wrapping your fingers in plastic wrap. Tho you can get boxes of gloves like these for super cheap.

(before and after so you can see the paint it saved me from haha)

To attach the nails I used hot glue (the latex gloves helped stop it from seeping through and gluing to my actual hand. Not... That I have accidentally hot glued things to myself before or anything >>)

They are admittedly a bit wonky, but that is because I started with my dominant hand knowing they would probably get fucked up from me using said hand during wear, so it got to be the guinea pig. The left hand I hopefully will be a tad prettier >> I was afraid to put them too close to the tip of the glove for support reasons, but I think it might have looked better.

Next came painting up to the knuckles with nail polish. The great thing about using nail polish for this so that it is still flexible and bends fine without cracking!

IT TOOK ME ABOUT AN HOUR SO BE READY FOR THE TIME SINK! ( i was not >>)

Unfortunate, while I have used nail polish to seal fabric in the past for small things, the cheap satin proved to be a fucking sponge. I tried spraying my finger tips with hairspray to try and seal them a bit more, not sure if it made a difference honestly. (But I did learn u can use hairspray to smooth and even out lumpy polish on actual nails???)

It took 2-3 coats to get the color opaque enough. Granted, I am using 'blood red' from dollar tree, so vine voice: 'if it's from the dollar store how good could it be?' maybe a nicer polish wouldn't need as much work. Added some thicker bits around the nail beds and fabric seams to smooth things out at least a little. Again nicer polish would probably be better at this.

My hand was very sweaty and Felt Weird through most of the process, but has emerged unscathed, if not damp. No glue burns or paint stains ^^

Currently I have it hanging so it can finish curing. The nail polish let the fingers hold their shape so I don't have to worry about them drying 'flat'. I did have to be careful the fingers didn't touch bc they would stick together, and if they dried that way it would have ripped the polish off when I separated them.

If you are not poor, the 'correct' way to do this would be to dip the finger tips in red liquid latex (not to be confused with latex house paint- it is a costuming and prosthetic material), so if you can afford it I would highly recommend trying that since it'll be a lot easier! But I am poor, so this is what I could do with dollar tree polish and press ons and the cheapest gloves I could find online >>

[castle-dominion]

c1x10 a death in the family ooh this is the last episode!

I like how I started with s2 so that i had a feel for the characters as they should be before going to s1 where they are figuring things out & I'd be saying "this isn't right" for the rest of the series but I actually kind of wish that my solo binge watch could have been in order, I feel like it would have made more sense. Tho I didn't HAVE s1 by the time I started. It was (obviously) the most requested castle disc set. (I just found out in canada disk is computer related disc is for everything else.)

Ok I get it not seeing the fellow from the front bc of the cover & the sides bc of the tint but the back window? They should be able to see this fellow Fun song

wow 10 years. I don't make promises Martha: dr death Me: doctor death defying from the killjoys? MR: Well, you ever stop to think you're invading her privacy? RC: I'm not poking through her underwear drawer. I'm investigating her mother's murder. Me: is that any BETTER?

I love alexis, this reminds me a ton of myself & my mom. AC: Dad, all we've done is hold hands. RC: Ew. Okay, Please. Don't need details. Just... Martha is the greatest

KB: I'm not running a background check on your daughter's date. RC: Oh, come on. She says he's quiet. He keeps to himself and he lives with his parents. Tell me that doesn't sound like a serial killer to you. [They join Ryan and Esposito.] JE: Who's a serial killer? (XD) KB: Castle's daughter, Alexis, got invited to prom. RC: It's her first real date. KR: And you're worried he's a serial killer? You should be more worried he's a teenage boy. (tbh yeah) RC: Oh, he's only fifteen. KR: Between satellite TV and the Internet, 15 the new 25. (he's right tbh) JE: Dude's right. I was fifteen once. *cringes* (most people have been... Thomas brackenreid: what do you know about kids? george crabtree: well I was one!) KR: Still are : ) (XD) JE: If I had a daughter her age, I'd never let her out of the house. (So you know & participate in this behaviour. This sort of line always makes me a bit mad.) RC: Thanks, guys. (https://scriptline.livejournal.com/21496.html) Outfits: ryan has a very unbuttoned shirt, esposito has the nice tie.

I remember this episode now! Probs smells p bad lol Fingernails for ripping off the plastic or...? just pinch it bro. It must be the "or" Broken how much before death? I think it might have been close enough that it would present as peri mortem.

Poor gal. Plastic surgery? That sounds like it could be useful to criminals bro. Just like you mom! If you're going to be late, you call!

When did ryan put on a real shirt & cover up his cleavage? Castle: *deadpans some random theory just as an example* Castle: HWoah! That's a good one! *shocked at himself for coming up with a good story?*

He asks permission when it's about smth like this.

KB: Same reason a recovering alcoholic doesn't drink. You don't think I haven't been down there? You don't think I haven't memorized every line in that file? My first three years on the force, every off-duty moment was spent looking for something someone missed. It took me a year of therapy to realize, if I didn't let it go, it was going to destroy me. And so I let it go. So she HAS been to therapy, she HAS let it go before, she LET IT GO after a YEAR of THERAPY. I feel like they forgot this information during s4.

Boobs are designed to look like butts actually. Santa's not real!

So is the clinic still working even tho the doctor is gone? Or maybe he shared the space with someone? OH WAIT they didn't realize he was dead

New fic idea: this surgeon is the one who transed [character's] gener. Or maybe was planning on it & now the person needs to get a new surgeon, possibly bc they had plans or a deadline of some sort. Or fic idea where they are talking about how "gross" plastic surgery is & beckett is like "I had braces as a kid, how different is it?" & one of the others is like (monkey with eyes meme that got deleted when my post went kaput) thinking "i didn't trans my gener no-sir-ee"

from here on out the liveblog comments are recreated (you will see the point which tumblr broke)

RC: Mentally unstable plastic surgery chick. That is way better than harvesting organs.

KB: Well, apparently, quite a lot. Me, trans: don't u know it

castle is right but unhelpful

MR: Her ears stick out, her... *sees mirror* Oh, God, her butt's too flat

love the rysposito banter it's his WORK computer, ofc it's pornless

castle is so right abt billing vs patient info

Not reformatting & adding my comments like I did when I wrote this the first time before tumblr went stupid but here:

BECKETT (CONT'D) So, did Alexis find a dress yet?

CASTLE Yeah. Yeah. Cute one, too. Boy, I can't believe my little girl's going to prom. My only comfort now is the longstanding tradition of torturing the boyfriend.

BECKETT What do you mean?

CASTLE You know, the time-honored hazing that goes on in those few moments we share, where he and I are alone, just before my daughter descends the stairs.

RYAN I remember the terror of meeting my date's old man.

CASTLE What'd he do?

RYAN Checked my wallet for condoms, showed me his gun collection. My hands were shaking so bad, I could barely put on the corsage. (never uses a pronoun)

CASTLE What'd your dad do?

BECKETT I... I don't know. I was in my room.

CASTLE How was your date when you finally came out?

BECKETT You know, actually, now that you mention it, he looked terrified. And this whole time, I thought he was scared of me.

CASTLE Nope. And now it's my turn.

RYAN What are you planning?

CASTLE Something befitting the name of Castle.

girl ur vic is dead he can't care

CASTLE So, what if we ask the other side?

BECKETT You want to ask the mob who the witness is?

i didn;t KNOW beckett read plays

lmao sal

ESPOSITO Jimmy "the Rat" Moran, aka Jimmy Pretty. Been linked to gambling, loansharking, and extortion schemes.

RYAN You know, you want a guy to be loyal, you probably shouldn't nickname him "the Rat."

BECKETT Okay, so let's start off by digging up all known associates of the Spolano family.

RYAN Yeah, sure. And while we're at it, we'll just bang our heads against a brick wall. You know, just for fun.

[Castle looks confused

ESPOSITO Professional hits are the hardest to close because of the anonymous nature of the murders. The usual rules - like motive and relationship to victim - don't apply.

y he confused tho? he should know, he's a crime novelist & actually rly smart, haven't you seen the pilot where he pulls a sherlock holmes & lifts beckett's entire backstory?

sprinkles ARE a metaphor! (I didn't know they were already a metaphor this early but it makes sense)

castle would look more like a dork than a threatening dad

CASTLE What? Whoa, whoa! Wait, wait, wait. Whoa, whoa! That's it? I don't even get a chance to ask him if he's killed a man?

ALEXIS Dad, he hasn't. But I might.

CASTLE Alright. Get out of here. Don't do anything I would do.

voice is not funny bro

she calls it an "unmitigated disaster" before the real disaster even got worse

i looked it up & still don't know how teflon bullets work

castle u could watch the kiss to make sure it doesn't last too long

CASTLE In a couple of years, you're gonna go off to college. You're gonna get married. You're gonna have kids. And I'm only gonna see you on holidays. Until some gold-digger steals all my money, but then I get to move in with you.

ALEXIS Wow. I feel like I just lost thirty years of my life.

CASTLE That's how it happens. One day you're in tutus, and the next day you're too old for severed heads. (u only have 5% of your shared time left or smth)

ALEXIS Dad, don't worry. No matter how old I get, I'll always be your little girl.

my mom @/nowtransparent: unless she's trans

oof reminds me of culinary school. I made a lot of comments about this but I'm not rewriting them

BECKETT It's just... Doesn't that seem like a weird thing to be doing on a Friday night?

RYAN Yeah, well. When you're a low man on the totem pole, that's what life is like. People think they can call you into work at 6 a.m. on a Saturday.

y they tell the hospital to remove the IV but not the fbi to arrest her? bc they don't have enough evidence for the first murder?

WHEN did she join the plastic surgery? was it specifically for jimmy?

"What's that going for these days" as if it's money not years in jail lol

she's allowed to just turn state?

ok idky why but i rewrote (in a crappy summary) some of my comments. here is when I found out I broke things, it goes back to real-time liveblogging now:

FUUUUUUUUUUUUdge

MY LIVECOMMENT GOT DELETED & IDK WHY. I HIT CTRL Z & IT GOT RID OF WAY WAY MORE THAN MY LAST LINE; THEN WHEN I HIT CTRL Y IT DIDN'T DO A GOSHDARN THING WHAT THE HECK MAN?

Lady hit man. A real blow for women's rights.

it's called girl power not girl morals

or whatever the fuck i said before TUMBLR ATE MY FRIDGING POST

well

i'm frickng pissed.

dun dun dun it's bad news about beckett wow i'm so thrilled about it but not rly bc i'm mad

martha is sort of right but why can't castle skip beckett & tell esposito who gave him the file or montgomery maybe? (except I know how the future seasons go)

sprinkles is a metaphor

good to tell her to sit

oof

& I love the style of the credits this season.

now that I spent WAY MORE time than I wanted to watching JUST TWO episodes, I need to go make supper.

[haruhey]

Mind If I Join You?

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Word count: 13k (i am SO SORRY i got carried away and this fic turned out SO FILTHY but i hit 300 followers so consider this a gift??)

Established Relationship Fluff | Smut

There’s only one bed shower, and Daryl Dixon is an opportunist.

the request:

every single fic of yours is seriously amazing. ur a great writer!! can i request a daryl shower smut bc wooweeeee

There’s always a giddiness inside Daryl when he returns from runs. No more sleeping in the RV for nights on end, no more eating cold canned chicken soup and - as much as he liked Aaron - no more hearing him talk about how much he missed Eric and making him miss you, too. He’s exhausted, his muscles sore from overuse, but the fact that you’re probably curled up in bed makes him so damn excited that all the ailments of his aging body are swiftly forgotten with each step he takes.

Houses fly by in a blur as he ramps up into a jog, his feet taking him to the dim light of a moving lantern in your shared bedroom window. By Daryl’s estimate, it couldn’t have been more than 10 or 11pm, but time meant little in the apocalypse - it was either dark out, or light and with the days getting shorter, he noticed you using the lantern more and more frequently. Just a few days ago, you had fallen asleep curled up on his chest, the soft orange light filling the room before he strained his body trying to turn it off without waking you. The next morning he had a terrible cramp running from his rib up to his bicep, but he never complained. Not even a wince in your presence since he thought the soreness was worth it. He would rather die several times over than lose the image he saw - of your pillowy lips taking soft, steady breaths of air while you slept against his bare skin.

Smiling, he lets himself remember the way you looked when he first gifted it to you, a grin that spread to the apples of your cheeks and crinkled at your eyes plastered on your face. It wasn’t a perfect replica, but it looked close enough to the one you would both light on nightwatches in the prison - which he thinks was when he first realized he loved you. Daryl also remembers the first night he saw you use it, the memory so vivid in his mind that he felt like if he reached out, the soft fabric of your pajamas would welcome his touch.

He could picture it now, your back against the headboard, reading one of the books that littered the shelves he never touches. Your face bathed in the lantern’s hue while your eyes scanned the pages and drinking in every word of whatever you were holding. He plucked that book right out of your hands that night and pulled you onto his lap, kissing the pout off your face until you weren’t annoyed at him anymore, rendered down to just laughing against his lips.

Fuck, he couldn’t wait to get home and see you again.

Daryl curses under his breath as he fumbles a little with the doorknob, but the profanities are quickly replaced with a huff of accomplishment as he practically sprints to the bedroom, boots shucked off haphazardly at the front door. He skips every other stair with long strides, desperate to feel you in his arms. When he enters the bedroom, he places his crossbow on the dresser and is surprised to see the room as dark as it is, the only source of illumination being the moon as it streams through the windows. The bed is empty and the blankets are strewn to your side, but neither you nor your pajamas are anywhere in sight. Panic flies through him before he registers the unmistakable sounds of the shower running, and he scoffs at himself when he sees the dim orange light peeking from beneath the bathroom door.

Had you known how worried he was for a second, you would have laughed at him. He was already so protective of you before the two of you got together, but it was another level entirely when you both made it official. It wasn’t just losing you to the dead anymore - it was also losing you to other people. Daryl knew you could take care of yourself, he had seen you hold your own on runs in the prison and trips outside the Alexandrian gates, but, God, if anything happened to you he wouldn’t know what to do. Being apart from you once when the Governor attacked was already almost too much for him to handle, but the thought of losing you and having to be okay with the fact you were never going to love him again? That was something he never wanted to experience.

Leaning against the wall, he pulls off his belt and places it next to his crossbow, his vest following not long after. The mattress squeaks slightly when he makes his way over to it and lies down, his body feeling almost instant comfort at the feeling of something other than the hard leather of his bike’s seat. Days like this made him think that maybe you were right in jokingly telling him that his motorcycle was a dumb choice for long runs - his tailbone was probably shaped like a rectangle from how long he’d been sitting on his ass.

A few moments pass as he allows himself to indulge in some rest, eyes closing and already in the first stages of a slumber before he shoots up, pushing himself to the edge of the mattress and sitting straight. Fuck, he needed to shower. He had given you his word that he would. Each time before he fell asleep after a run, he’d said; and Daryl Dixon was not one to break promises. Especially not to you.

Getting off the bed, he sheds his shirt and throws the old fabric onto the dresser, grimacing at the knowledge he would have to scrub at the dried walker blood come morning. His socks are next, pulled off by impatient hands and left on the floor, not even given a second glance as he then pulls open a drawer and grabs a pair of boxers from his meager pile. The only thought in his mind being the feeling of smooth sheets and your body against his skin. He’d pick up his clothes after his shower - if he could even muster up enough energy to.

Step by step, he makes it a good few feet out of the bedroom before he realizes the other second floor bathroom doesn’t work. If his memory served him correct, there were some plumbing issues and, before anyone could buy replacements, the world became, well, what it is now. After all, it was the only reason you and Daryl even took this house - nobody else wanted to have only one shower and, after becoming a couple, sharing one between two people didn’t seem all that bad. At least, that’s what he thought until now. Groaning, he rubs his eyes in an attempt to rub out the fatigue in them before his whole body lights up with an idea. Maybe he could have some fun with this. And if you asked, he could always blame the missing pipe or whatever it was that the Alexandrians couldn’t fix.

Practically thrilled, he mentally pats himself on the back and rushes back to the bedroom. Tired? Not anymore. Daryl can’t be if he wants to fulfill what just popped into his mind. Years of hunting leave his footsteps nearly silent when he enters the bathroom, but he’s not exactly at a disadvantage in terms of noise. The rhythmic beating of water against the tiled floor drowns out the slight squeak of the door as well as the hitching of his breath when he notices the gap. With how the room was designed, just standing at the door led his gaze in a nearly direct line of sight to you, the shower curtain lying an inch or two from the wall and offering him a vision which he doesn’t hesitate to indulge in.

It’s not like he's never seen your body - far from it, actually - but there was something about you that made him hesitate when it came to stuff like this. You deserved sweet and soft, affectionate with declarations of love between his kisses, and while he enjoyed giving that to you, sometimes he wanted something different. Sometimes Daryl wanted to act on impulse - to feel a different type of desperation - and tonight, he wanted to act out one of his long-hidden fantasies. One that involved you on many, many occasions.

Truthfully, he couldn’t fucking stop thinking about it since Merle and his buddies showed him that damn VHS as a hormonal high schooler. He never really had a committed girlfriend or anything like that to ever even pluck up the courage to ask, but that fantasy remained like a phantom in the back of his mind, lying just outside his finger’s reach. One that haunts him late at night and renders him withering in his own palm. At least, that was the case. Because he has you now and how he managed that? He didn't know. But he felt confident enough around you and trusted you enough to pursue the desire in him.

A shiver courses through him, running along the tip of his spine when he considers the possibility you might like it as much as him - and if you did, maybe he would divulge to you more of these secrets he’s always kept hidden so well.

With silent movements, Daryl unbuttons and unzips his jeans as he leans against the door of the bathroom, just barely suppressing a groan when his fingers graze the zipper. He curses himself, chastising his sensitivity at the mere image of you doing something as mundane as taking a shower, but he knew it was an inevitable consequence. Ever since the prison, anything you did got him riled up - even just seeing you sitting on his motorcycle made his skin light up with goosebumps. Left in only his boxers, he steps out of the denim pooling at his feet and picks it up, throwing it haphazardly onto the cream coloured counter as he waits for you to take notice of his presence. The metal button clashes against the smooth marble of the vanity, and its noises sound across the room, your eyes opening and your fingers catching the edge of the plastic curtain as you dart your head out, searching for the source.

Your body tenses up, no doubt the experience of living out on the road for so long, but the fighting instinct drains from you the moment you see the affectionate boyish grin playing on Daryl’s lips. It’s barely visible as he stands so far from the meager light source, but it sends an eager smile onto your face. Like all those times he’s returned to you, you want to run to him, feel his arms wrap around you and inhale his scent as you plant those incessant kisses he ‘hated’ everywhere on his face, but that urge only serves to remind you that you’re standing naked in a shower and he’s just staring at you.

“Daryl! What the- I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.”

Embarrassed, you speak, voice pitched higher than normal from the shock and excitement coursing through your body. However, he stays put, leaning against the door as he drags his eyes up the expanses of skin afforded to him; that is, until you pull the plastic curtain to cover yourself and run your free hand through your hair, tilting your head ever so slightly in order to urge his eyes to meet yours. You wait for his response as you brush the wet strands back from your face, but it never comes, him instead choosing to stride towards you and send you a pout before pulling petulantly at the shower curtain, trying to coax you to let go of it. Raising an inquisitive eyebrow, your grip loosens and he can barely hold back his excitement when you really do let go, tongue peeking out for just a second before he hooks his lip between his teeth.

Throughout your relationship with Daryl, you learned he loved looking at you, gawking at and admiring each angle, birthmark and curve until you felt heat flush through your body. Even before the two of you got together, his gaze stuck on you, longing and soft when you weren’t looking, only hardening if your eyes ever met his. Each time he saw you it was like he was still in disbelief that you were his, forever suspended in the wide look he had when you first confessed to him, hence why you didn’t pay much attention to his stare as you moved to pump out some shampoo. You didn’t really know why he was in the bathroom and he made no effort to tell you, but you were here to clean yourself. So that’s what you’ll do. He’ll probably leave sooner or later after making sure you weren’t hurt anywhere, anyways.

The way the light from the lantern bounced off your glistening skin made you look like some sort of goddess. Like an otherworldly being he shouldn’t be looking at. Or like a succubus, sinfully tantalizing, except you didn’t know what you were doing to him as you raked your hands through your hair again, bubbles forming already between your fingers as you scrubbed. Shit, this was way better than he expected, and he’s gladly taking in everything it was offering. Shifting his weight, he clenches and unclenches his fists - commanding himself to keep them at his sides - but then you turn around, allowing the water to rush down your back and his resolve withers away as he tries not to envy the path along which it’s falling.

Soon, the little space between the shower curtain and the ceramic tiling isn’t enough for him. He needs to feel you against him, his trembling hands and suffocating boxers egging him on like this was the first time he’s ever seen you naked. Clearing his throat, he urges himself to move, building his confidence which had seemed to dissipate nearly immediately as you locked eyes with him. What he wanted to do wasn’t sweet or affectionate, and even though he knew you would tell him if you didn’t like it, he just didn’t really want to risk even doing something you didn’t like in the first place.

“Sorry I, uh, I’ll go rinse out my hair somewhere else. Here, I’ll get out so you can-”

This was it. He had to act now or he’ll lose the opportunity. Running his thumb across his bottom lip, he watches as your hand reaches for the shower valve, but your movements and voice stop when Daryl shoots his dominant hand out, the calloused skin wrapping around your wrist in a warmth that makes you snap your gaze to his. While firm, he never applies enough force to hurt you - he knows what kind of men there were in this world, and he didn’t know what he would do if you ever thought of him like that. On the contrary, the feeling of his fingers around you is welcome, especially after what felt like years away from him. Giving him that same inquisitive look, except this time laced with a small smile, you can tell by the way he’s gnawing at his lip that he has something to say. Something that has him hesitating in a way you’ve never really seen him hesitate before, well, besides the first time you both kissed.

“Actually, mind if I join ya? ‘Cause ya see, the other shower don’t work and there’s this girl - my girl - she’s amazin���, but she doesn’t let me into our bed ‘til I shower and I’m damn tired.”

Oh.

Noticing the way you tense up slightly at his suggestion, he offers more, another reason to sway you into accepting as if the pursuit of his little fantasy would both begin and end with what drops from his lips. This definitely felt more daunting, like a much larger leap than him asking for permission to kiss you.

“I also heard showerin’ in pairs saves water.”

Oh.

Yeah, you get why he was hesitating now.

Honestly, Daryl really couldn’t give a fuck about the water he was talking about. What he had in his running mind had little to do with his environmental footprint and more to do with feeling your skin on his and the image of you coming undone for him. He hasn’t been home - been with you - in what felt like weeks, and he thought the generator could stand to work a little harder after running for one person for a few days. With a slight upwards twitch of his eyebrow, you can feel what little apprehension you had leave your body and his heart pounds in his ribcage with the anxiety of what’s to come. At least, he thinks that’s why its beating at 100 miles per hour.

It surely can’t be the residual hormonal anticipation or excitement from his youth.

“And who exactly did you hear that from?”

The slight joking edge to your voice causes him to smile, but it’s a mischievous one, one that holds promises and sends a shiver through your body. Daryl really had no clue what he did to you when he looked at you like that, his piercing blue gaze hitting you as his head tilts down almost sheepishly to the grip he has on you.

His eyes flick up to meet yours, a glint residing in them that draws you to look at nothing but him as he runs his thumb along the bone of your wrist. With a tilt of his head, he speaks, muttered as he gnaws once more at his lips and lets go of his hold.

“It matter?”

So nobody, probably.

The amusing thought sends you shaking your head ‘no’ as you smile, pulling open the plastic curtain in invitation while trying to suppress the idea that just popped into your head. Daryl just wants to shower and the only reason he wants to shower with you is to fulfill that promise he had made. Because he just wants to go to sleep. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, he’s hopeful that you would be watching him - and he’s fully prepared to make a show of stripping his last piece of fabric - but he’s sorely disappointed when he sees your eyes closed in an attempt to keep the bubbling shampoo from burning at them.

Why weren’t you looking at him? Was he not overt enough?

Wow, he really wasn’t very good with… whatever it is he’s trying to do, huh?

You shuffle forward from the steady stream and he takes that as his cue to step in, gladly placing his body just a few inches from yours and sighing in relief when the water hits his sore muscles. The sounds don’t go unnoticed by you, and your heart sinks a little with each suppressed groan of pain Daryl lets out. He always worked so hard for Alexandria, and they still treated him like somewhat of an outsider, questioning his true intentions with harsh looks when he even so much as walked too close to them. But they didn’t seem to mind him much when they were eating the animals he hunted, though, and that sent your blood boiling.

Turning around, you try not to let your gaze drop too low as you place your hands on his shoulders, frowning when you feel the stiff knots that have burrowed their way underneath his skin. Almost immediately, Daryl submits to your touch, an all too familiar warmth bubbling in his heart as he, too, turns and exposes his scar ridden skin to you, allowing your thumbs to rub circles into his upper back. He always loved this - the domesticity of these moments, the wordless communications, your love and affection directed solely at him - and he’s starting to forget the real reason he crashed your shower in the first place, lulled into relaxation under your nimble fingers and the water beating down on his overworked muscles.

“Does that feel better?”

Your question warrants a response landing somewhere between a grunt and a groan, but then you laugh and he swears his heart swells tenfold. He missed hearing that. Even if you got embarrassed of it sometimes, or hid it muffled behind the palms of your hands, he loved hearing it. Because you glowed when you did, your eyes crinkling up at the corners with a smile that almost always brought him to his knees, and perhaps almost selfishly, the knowledge that he doesn’t want to be away from you any longer dawns on him - as well as the knowledge that it’s inevitable that he has to leave again soon. Whether it be with Aaron or Rick, or some of the poor bastards that piss their pants whenever they see him.

When you stop your ministrations, he feels himself frowning as you tap him once with your thumbs, but he elates almost immediately when you speak promise of a better massage come morning. He’s slightly ashamed of the way his whole body lights up in goosebumps in anticipation, but it’s not unwarranted. Spending late mornings with you was something Daryl never knew how the hell he had lived so long without, and they were his favourite types of mornings by a long shot. Especially when it ended up more often than not with you on him or him on you, the both of you thankful for the misfit house you had all to yourselves and away from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears.

“You’re too damn good to me.”

But he deserves it, you think to yourself, He deserved to be cared for like this.

His praise drips with a softness he didn’t even know he was capable of until you came along and Daryl turns back around to face you, smirking lopsided when he sees a shy smile worm its way onto your face. He had to have known what he was doing when he said stuff like that - especially when he used a voice like that. Seriously, how long had the two of you been together? It felt like an eternity already, but he could still make you flustered from a simple compliment. Shaking your head, you rest your wrists at the nape of his neck and use the leverage to pull his lips to yours, thumb swiping at the blood dried at his cheek and hoping the distraction of your tongue on his will keep him from teasing the warmth crawling up your neck.

A ‘hm?’ noise falls from him, small and surprised as his eyebrows raise for just a moment before his hands loop around your waist by instinct. When you pull away, another noise falls from Daryl, but this time it’s more disappointed than anything, and he chases your lips with his bottom one jutted out, taking full advantage of the strong arms he has wrapped around you. Holding you in place, his eyes plead with the now perfected ‘one more’ look you’re all too familiar with and you can’t bring yourself to deny him - he knows you can’t. Closing his eyes and puckering his lips as he waits patiently, he hums when you finally kiss him again, his satisfaction vibrating down to the hollow center of your collarbones before begrudgingly letting you go when you pull away again.

The water runs a brownish red from the dried walker blood being washed off his body and he scrubs furiously at his arms, trying to gauge the right move that will get your thighs shaking and your moans bouncing off the ceramic tiles he’s seen less than he’s willing to admit. Should he just… go for it? Just pull you against him and push you up against the walls he wants your noises to echo off of? No, he should come up with a better idea. You deserved a better idea.

Running his thumb along his jaw, Daryl sneaks furtive glances at your body - who the hell he was hiding them from, he didn’t know - and picks even more skin off his chapped lips as he watches you twist at your waist ever so slightly to comb through your hair. Swallowing down his spit like some teenager, he watches your shoulder blades protrude and disappear, intently following the droplets of water as they fall along your neck and down the muscles you’ve developed. He had to hand it to the sorry rich prick who had designed this house because, all things considered, they did a pretty good job; there was just enough spread of it between the two of you to pass as a decent shower. Even if you or him had to oddly angle yourselves to warm a cool patch of skin.

Reaching towards the shampoo bottle, his arm brushes against your waist almost feather-light, but it sends a shiver through you, rattling your ribs and making your cheeks flush all the same. Daryl lingers for a moment longer than you expect, his body leaning as he stretches over and you think he’s going to step forward - wrap you up in him - but dutifully, respectfully, anxiously he stays put. You want his touch, especially after nights alone with only the scent of him on his side of the bed to keep you company, and, having caught a quick glance at his straining boxers before he joined, there’s little room for doubt in your mind that he wants you. But still, it exists.

Your own arms begin to sore when he finally pulls away, his hands now raking through the hair he seemingly never wants to cut. Clearing your throat, you turn around, eyes screwed shut as you face Daryl, fearing for both the shampoo you’re washing out stinging at your eyes and the fact that if you looked at him, your gaze would probably drop. God, was all it took just a few days without him to have you craving him like this? The close proximity coupled with the knowledge he’s standing next to you naked makes you tense up before a shiver runs up your spine, your thoughts causing your breath to hitch for barely a second. Despite your efforts to suppress it, your subconscious prays that he picks up on the little noise. Please let him pick up on it.

And he does, ever observant as he connects the dots, the initially surprised look on his face melting into a small anticipatory smirk before he all but races to lather his hair in the coconut - or was it grapefruit? - scent. This was good. This was damn good.

He dares take a step forward, tentative, testing out the waters as if he was unsure of your desire, but he knows he can read you, and that he can do it well. This was when he should do something, right? The subtle confirmations - a tense, a shiver, a hitching breath - beg him to. Under the streaming shower, Daryl impatiently scrubs at his scalp, teeth hooked permanently atop his lip as he watches the rivulets of watered-down shampoo catch along your skin, his fingers and mouth itching to replicate its path down your neck to your chest. He knows that path well, and perhaps that’s what makes him even more envious.

Thank God for the fact you’ve closed your eyes because if anybody saw Daryl right now, they would take a step back, maybe even several thinking he was angry. How could they not when he was glaring at you as if you had done something horrible? It’s a surprise to him, the fact that it seemed like you really could not feel the burn of his stare, but then a thought pops into his lust-fogged brain. Maybe you did know. And maybe you were toying with him, playing coy and pushing him to a teetering edge, letting him taste the tension on his tongue until he could hold back no more.

To say he’s impatient is an understatement. He isn’t simply impatient, no, he’s impatient. He wants to do something. He wants you to do something, to initiate the flurry of hands and lips he’s craving so desperately and, seemingly blind to that triad of signals, he scrubs frantic at his hair in an attempt to control himself. As he rinses out the shampoo, he manages to cling onto what little restraint he had over his body until you turn back around. It was like the universe was egging him on, trying to break his resolve by showing him those dimples on your lower back, reminding him of the way he gripped them when he took you that night before he left - and it works. Jesus fucking Christ does it work.

Daryl’s body crowds you then, muscular arms wrapped around either side of your waist and rough hands palming at your chest before sliding down to your stomach, pulling you flush into him while he grinds his hips experimentally against your body. The feeling catches you off-guard, eyes widening in surprise as you let out a gasp into the steam of hot water and you grip harshly at his forearm, attempting to steady yourself from the sensations blossoming from your thighs. He can feel them tense and begin to snap closed against him, but you hear the corners of his mouth twitch upwards with satisfaction.

“What- what are you doing?”

Restless, his fingers travel downwards, hooking a strong thigh between your two legs as he ignores your question, them parting immediately to accommodate him. Daryl’s veins thrum with adrenaline, feeling the all too familiar effects of your warm skin when he realizes you’re letting him do this - enjoying him, even - your hands pawing at his to beg him to speed up, to bring you that nirvana he loves to be the reason for. Heat flushes your body, knowing full well what he’s capable of, but despite it, your skin erupts into goosebumps under his touch, desperate for more.

“What’s it look like ‘m doin’?”

Your neck comes under his affection next, his lips meeting it as he mumbles the words against your pulse point, tongue darting out when he feels it speed up. Almost methodically, Daryl finds the marks he’d left days prior, darkening them with unadulterated determination and rolling his hips against you once more. The heavy motion draws a whine from you, short and needy as your nails dig into his wrist and he all but basks in it. God, this felt good. How the hell had he spent so long without you? Without your skin under his? Everything about you feels like a fucking drug to him.

“D-Daryl- what would your girl say.”

He smiles against your neck, a warm pride bubbling in his chest when he hears the slight shake in your voice. It always got like this when he was touching you, and he liked to think it was the anticipation raking through your body. All the possibilities he could bring to you. He loved listening to your voice as it was, but hearing it quaver as it bounced off the ceramic walls, mingled perfectly with the rhythmic thrum of water crashing against the two of you? It was almost alarming how quickly it made his head spin.

Submitting to your urging, he lets you slide his hands down to the apex of your thighs, groaning guttural into your ear when he feels your hips lift and rut into his touch, unintentionally grinding your ass onto his cock when you push yourself back onto him. Hooking his chin over your shoulder, you hear his breaths as he digs his palm an inch below your pelvis, thick fingers gripping harsh at your inner thighs as he nudges his further between them. It feels like fucking magic, whatever he’s doing, and a plea tingles at your lips before you bite it down. Daryl’s never been this bold, and this is new territory for the two of you. Very new. So you were going to let him take his time - let him explore every inch of your skin as if he didn’t already have it memorized - despite the fact every cell in your body screams for you to sink down on him right here and now.

His grip disappears too quickly for your taste, but before you can even register the decadent sear that marks his blunt fingernails and calluses, his palm makes home just below your stomach and he swipes two fingers against you, spreading you for him but avoiding that bundle of nerves you want so desperately for him to touch. An expletive drops from Daryl’s lips as he gathers evidence of your arousal, and the sound of him makes you claw at his wrist, your hands still blanketing his as you try to angle him to do something other than coat his fingers and smear you across your inner thighs. Amused, his middle finger curls, breaching you just until his first joint before pulling away, relishing in the way you clench as if trying to keep him in you.

“Hm, I dunno. What do ya think she’d say? I think she likes it.”

You can hear the self-satisfied smirk on his face as he feels your body react and you can practically see it behind your closed eyelids. Daryl knows all your buttons, every single movement that renders you down to a puddle of mush, but he’s avoiding them. His jaw clenches and unclenches as you buck your hips up to try and meet the talented fingers only getting further and further and further from you. Skin warm from the streaming water and the sheer amount of lust coursing through him, his left arm snakes upward, resting just under your breasts before pulling your shoulders flush against him. His teeth sneak out from behind his lips, grazing against that spot that made your thighs shake the first time you slept with him, and you become putty in his hands.

A gasp of Daryl’s name falls before a staggered whimper erupts from your throat, his hands moving so fast and sure along your body as if he had molded you to his perfection. Everything hits you at the same time, his sharp canines right below your jaw bone before they melt into the caress of slightly chapped lips, the hand at your chest palming and tweaking and toying like there was no tomorrow, his fingers swirling, nudging at that tiny bundle of nerves you’ve been silently begging him to touch just once, and you can’t stop the noises falling from your lips. No matter how much you try, they escape.

“Or d’ya think she’s too busy moanin’ for me to tell me?”

Oh, that fucking prick.

To make it worse, you can’t even bring yourself to be angry for that long because his voice drops into that low, husky whisper that makes your knees go weak. Had Daryl not essentially smothered you against his body, you just know you would be a puddle, pliable and aching after just a few days away from him. A jolt of pleasure rockets through you the moment you realize what he wants - to make you as desperate as he is for this - and you know he knows exactly how to get it. Biting your lip, you trap your sounds in your throat just to spite him and you dig your fingers into his forearm, seeking in any way to find another outlet for all the compounding stimulation he just keeps giving you.

Your heartbeat drums through your ears and you can barely register the growl against your skin, but the vibration of it is inescapable. He feels the crescent shapes already forming from your nails on his tan skin and he pulls his face from you, breath fanning your ear in preparation to express how disappointed he is at you robbing him of your noises, but you beat him to it, freeing the words that burn at your tongue to knock him off his high-horse. Daryl was never a very confident man, but fuck if it does not make your skin tingle.

“I think she’d tell you to- to shut up.”

The rebuke is futile, a stutter brought on by the push and pull of his deft fingers and he laughs. Daryl chuckles into your skin before everything from him detaches, only for him to grab at your waist and spin you around to face him, adjusting his hold to crowd you once more. Your back hits the ceramic tiles, a sharp whine escaping you at the contrasting cold, and you can see that smirk you had envisioned on his face when you open your eyes, taking in every inch of the swept back hair now falling into his face as he tilts his forehead slowly to yours. Running your non-dominant hand up from his arm to his face, you push the strands back, smiling slightly at the way he melts as his eyelids flutter shut for just a second. As much as he said he hated how damn soft you made him, he sought after your touch, your hands much too intoxicating for him to deny them.

You glow a ring of delicate orange from the lantern shining behind him, the light bouncing off your glistening skin and those sparkling damn eyes that shine with unguarded affection despite your ‘annoyance’ from just moments ago. Creating shadows over your body with his broad figure as he blankets you, Daryl nearly groans with delight at the image - the realization that you look impossibly better with the warm hue making his head spin. And when he remembers that you’re his to love? He tries to hide just how much it makes his mind run, but his voice comes spilling out without much thought, everything about you shrinking the filter between his brain and mouth that he so tenaciously keeps on during the day.

“That so? ‘Cause if I do then I can’t tell ‘er how much I missed her. Or what I was thinkin’ when I thought about ‘er at night.”

Daryl was already so worked up at the thought of doing this to you, you didn’t even need to actually do anything to him to have him throbbing against your stomach, begging to be touched after days of only imagined scenarios to keep him company. So you indulge him, tracing your dominant hand down the V-line of his pelvis and biting your tongue when his hips snap into your grasp, his grip at your waist tightening as he tries to still himself. He wants you to touch him, to let you give him what you want to give him and he tries his damndest to control himself, instead using his words to try and rile you up.

“Nothin’ I do feels as good as her. Nothin’ I’ve tried’s ever been close.”

Your whole body shivers at the insinuation, the ceramic sandwiching you to Daryl ceasing to feel as cold as it did when he first pushed you against it. He feels like centuries have passed when your hand finally wraps around him, running your fingers in a stroke that has him groaning and nearly keeling over you with how much that simple damn action makes heat pool in the pit of his stomach. Everything about this feels heightened, the steam of the shower failing in comparison to the heat pinging between the two of you. His eyes seek yours, cock twitching and catapulting him much farther to his climax than he would like to admit when he sees you watching your grasp, lips parted ever so slightly, pleading with him to lay his on them.

Heart thrumming in his chest, another groan of an expletive followed by your name drops from Daryl before his hips jerk forward, stuttering into your grip with no real rhythm as he pushes a rough kiss onto your mouth. When you let out a little surprised squeal, he pulls himself back immediately, as if shocked by his own lack of self-control, but your hand never stops, and your face leans closer towards his, the feeling of his ruined sounds vibrating along your tongue making you chase him. This must have been how he felt when he had you whimpering for him on those late nights and early mornings. No wonder you both loved them so much.

Twisting your other hand from the side of his neck to his nape, you pull him to you with equal fervor, the stroking of his cock forgotten in favour of his chapped lips turning into something more sinful with each movement of his talented mouth. His fingers begin to wander now, eagerly grasping at the two dimples at your lower back before his palms find all too familiar territory kneading and massaging your ass. Knees nearly buckling, you remember the leaking heaviness twitching in your grip and you nudge him between your thighs, your legs spreading just a bit wider as you inch him closer and closer and closer to where you need it most.

“N-no, wait- I gotta-“

His hands shoot downwards to still yours and he pulls his hips from you, his statement stuttered through a sharp, shaky breath. Whining, you nearly beg for him before you realize he succeeded in what he set out to do - and he was only gone four days, your subconscious chastises. Your head is swimming in desperation for him as you shake it, hair whipping into your face and onto the wall while you vehemently disagree with both his words and your own internal mocking. All coherent thoughts leave your mind, washed away in the stream of water running down your body and you come to the conclusion that you don’t fucking care if he would poke fun at you come morning, you need to feel him.

“Daryl you don’t need to- you can just- I can-“

You don’t need to keep-

You can just-

I can-

God, you sounded pathetic, your voice barely breaking above breathy through the heavy beating of water, and he loves it, it’s enticing him; he could die right now and he would feel nothing but satisfaction. Daryl was never a very confident man - well, with people at least - but around you, he felt wanted. Not just in moments like this when you craved him so debaucherously, but in moments when you would pull close to him while you were sleeping or hug him from the back. Just giving him your affection so freely and not expecting any back. It made his heart damn near break everytime he had to leave. Adjusting his grip on you, he digs his knee into the wall, perching you on either side of him and leaning closer and closer to your burning skin.

“Gotta get ya ready. Jus’- jus’ be a good girl an’ be patient. Don’t want ya limpin’ tomorrow ”

Despite his words, Daryl can’t help but think that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. It wouldn’t be so bad to linger beside you the whole day, a constant reminder of the real reason you needed him to get you things, or why you would grip his arm as a piss poor substitute for a crutch when the two of you walked along the street. Nobody else would know - at least, neither of you would ever tell - but the satisfied puff of his chest and the fact he stands just a little bit prouder might make them connect the dots. That, and the lovebites that creep out from underneath the neckline of your shirt which, coincidentally, only seemed to darken after he came back. Nah, he thinks to himself, it wouldn’t be so damn bad.

“I thought you were tired.”

There’s a hint of concern in your voice, peeking out from between the teasing and he grunts, acknowledging your words before his hands wrap around your wrists and urges them to loop around his neck. He knows he needs to do this, the action a silent beg for you to just relax and let him treat you right in the way you know he always will. With his neck flush in the crooks of your elbows, you tug him, pulling his face to yours and raking your fingers through his wet hair.

“Never too tired for you.”

His stubble scrapes against your nose as he mumbles his confession between kisses down from your forehead, a delicious burn leaving a trail that makes your heart beat impossibly faster between your ribs. Grip falling to your waist, Daryl’s rough fingers inch towards the apex of your thighs, but he moves them so fucking slow you're tempted to just reach down and push them into you like you intended to do with his cock. Before you can entertain the idea any longer, he catches your lips in a clash of tongue and teeth and knowingly smirks against your lips. He’s dedicated, attentive, and what kind of man would have the heart to deny you? He would do anything for you, all you had to do was ask.

Daryl eagerly swallows the moan you let out against his lips when his middle finger curls into you, the vibrations spreading along his tongue and consuming him from the inside out. Your thighs spread wider for him, welcoming him - no, begging him - for more and it riles him up almost comically well. Whether it was intentional or not, he would never know. He pulls his face away just inches, breath heavy against your parted lips before he sends you a small smile, an underlying mischief peeking out from the tiniest sliver of teeth he exposes. Leaning more of his weight onto his knee, his left hand travels around your waist to your ass, digging his dull fingernails into the flesh and pulling towards him, bringing your hips off the cold ceramic and snaking that arm into the curve he’s just created.

Before you can even brace yourself, he pushes a second finger in, curling languid with accelerating speed, revelling in the heat you bring him with an audible groan that reverberates off the shower walls. Already so desperate, the feeling nearly makes your legs shake under your own weight, but Daryl’s prepared - he could keep you up with the hand he has splayed across your upper back and he’s secretly proud of it. His mouth returns to you again, tongue surging to meet yours as if just the taste of your kiss would satisfy his desire to taste what’s beginning to coat down his palm.

It doesn’t, but it’s a damn good substitute.

Nails scratching pathetically at his scalp, your lungs beg for oxygen, but you ignore your body’s pleading for as long as you can. You need Daryl. Just him. Just him. His fingers are ardent, all of them pushing and pulling and toying and touching you in a way that skyrockets you into an overwhelming nirvana and it feels good. It feels so good to be with him again, surrounded by his scent and his heat, that you start to entertain the thought of begging for him. You try to do just that, but every sound coming from your lips is only absorbed greedily by his before you pull him away by his hair, taking large gulps of oxygen as he does the same.

Not even a second passes before you’re grinding down into his palm with pleas falling into the steam of the shower, all your words going straight down to his cock. Gritting his teeth, he growls at your desperation, lips shooting down along your collarbone before catching the skin between teeth. He has your whole body memorized, proof of that fact littered across your body in the form of lovebites, memories seared into your mind of his everything and it’s almost too much to handle. Almost. But you need more. And Daryl knows, much too perceptive in all senses of the word.

His left arm snakes up to your neck, the nape of it secured in a grip firm enough to pull your hips down onto his muscular thigh, spreading you and rubbing that sensitive bundle of nerves with his rough skin. Something between a swear and Daryl’s name chokes through your throat and he curls his two fingers just enough for you to repeat the sound, the movement perhaps pulling your hips forwards toward him. With the way you grind down so readily on him, it wasn’t easy to tell whether the roll of your lower body was from his fingers or the lust running through your veins. A satisfied smirk worms its way onto his face that you want to kiss off, but your head is stuck against the ceramic tiling by his hand tugging securely on your hair. Not enough to hurt you. Never enough to hurt you.

He can feel it now, the fact that you’re close, and it only makes him work harder. Maybe it was selfish of him, expediting your pleasure so he can finally seek out his, but he’s damn near shaking with the thought of finally being able to be with you in one of the ways he always wants to be. Sometimes Daryl felt like a teenager with all this certain enthusiasm he can’t seem to control with you around, but you had never complained - you made him feel alive in all the best ways - and he thanked whoever was pulling the strings in his favour for bringing him to you. Circling his thigh, he pushes everything he can up into you, the pressure making you feel like you’re floating. Fingers carding through his hair, your whole body tightens around him in a silent plea, and he's pretty sure he would have to be just about the biggest idiot in existence to ever deny you.

“Give it to me. C’mon, give it to me. Ya wanted my cock didn’t ya? Jus’ give it to me an’ I’ll make ya feel even better.”

Give it to me.

Give it to me.

Give it to me.

Daryl’s voice makes your mind swim, the growl rough and dangerous like everyone always tends to think he is, and incoherence drops from your lips, echoing against the confines of the walls as his breath fans your ear. Rutting your hips up to his hand, the knot in your abdomen snaps, the proclamation of it escaping you in a broken moan of his name. He can feel your body’s reactions before you start to get those familiar sparking waves of pleasure, the clench of you around him growing sporadic as he continues to unravel you with his teeth gritted, the unrelenting precision of his fingers sending you clawing and tugging at his scalp with no regard of your strength for just a moment.

His groan at the sensations edges out the haze of your climax and you immediately detach from him, pulling your body back from his so abruptly that he slips from you. Scrunching his nose in disappointment, his large hands cling at the back of your thighs, bringing your chest and forehead to his as if he couldn’t stand being apart from you for even just a few seconds.

“Sorry- sorry if that hurt I didn’t mean to-”

Face inches from yours, he shakes his head and cuts you off with a series of hungry pecks. One to your sinfully soft lips, then to the corner of your mouth, then one to your jawbone, devouring your apology right then and there as he overtakes your senses.

“‘S alright. It felt good.”

Then he kisses you again, urgent all the same, but he only pushes a firm brush of his mouth against yours. The movement is like a signature, as if it were his name scribbled easily along at the bottom of a letter - a soft possession that you wear along the tingles of your lips. It makes you claw at him again, tugging on the sides of his hips to pull him flush against you, fingernails digging crescent shapes he wants to see come morning, and your apprehension all but dissolves into the hot water of the shower. You were his, he was yours and in his mind, there was nothing he wanted more than for you to show him just what he does to you.

“Anythin’ ya do feels good.”

It’s stupid, how you could be in the middle of something so intimate and a simple compliment from him could leave you flushed from the neck upwards, but he loves it. He loves the little whimper you let out at his words and he smiles that lopsided boyish grin that makes your heart skip a beat. When he smiles at you like that, it makes you feel like the only person in the entire world. No walkers, no Alexandrians, no runs or patients at the infirmary to steal you or him away from the other. There was no one except you and Daryl - and it’s been too damn long since it was like this.

Body flush against yours, he snakes a hand down between his legs and the other grips at your thigh, hooking it around his torso and begging with a roll of his hips for you to rest your leg there. Each breath he takes sends a jolt of pleasure blossoming against your ribs, his skin rubbing against your chest so deliciously it makes your mouth fall open in silent pants of air. You don’t know when you closed your eyes, but they open when Daryl says your name, broken by a curse that falls somewhere after the first letter. He looks good like this - eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched.

Gritting his teeth, his mouth can barely form a coherent sentence with how much excitement is coursing through him, and he’s trying his fucking best to hold back from slamming into you until you give him a nod or a pull or anything, but then something in him breaks. The feeling of just having you so damn close worms its way into his brain and he takes himself in his fist, dragging along to gather the remnants of your climax and notches himself, all the while groaning from the heat emanating off you.

“‘S this okay? Need t’know if this’s okay.”

Slurred speech. It was so uncharacteristic of the Daryl everyone else knew - the Daryl who was so sure of himself, the Daryl who wore a permanent scowl on his face, the Daryl who was so mysterious, never speaking anything above a growl - and you think you could have laughed had it not been for the fact the words themselves dig up memories of all the times he had said them to you before. Every cell in your body lights up, high alert now that he’s in you, but he’s not moving. He’s not inching into you or filling you in the only way he can and you push your hips towards him, greedy movements making you swallow more of him. Taking a sharp breath, he lets you rut against him, but still, he doesn’t fucking move.

“God, Daryl- yes. Yes, it’s okay. More- more than okay.”

Sometimes you hated him, and then hated how stupid you felt for hating him.

He waits for your words. He always does. Without fail he checks on you before he slides into you. He never wants to take because he always wants to be good for you, but sometimes you wish he would. Sometimes you wish he would just take from you - take everything you have. There is nothing in this world that is not shared between the two of you. Daryl’s wholly yours as you are wholly his.

Curses drop from his lips, your name thrown in once or twice as if he’s reminding himself you’re real as he feels you around him. They fly out of his mouth like the bolts from his crossbow and ricochet off every wall as he begins to move, slow at first, experimental maybe with his hand secure against your thigh, then he starts building and building into a heavy, sinful rhythm. Shakily, Daryl groans, the breath he lets out tendrilling at your chin before he sucks frantically at your bottom lip, your noises meeting his as they hit the ceramic wall.

He wants to live in this moment forever; immortalize the way you look and sound on one of those VHSes, write the damn date on it, and hide it away for his and your eyes only so it’s rewatchable and revisitable and reliveable. It's not enough to just sear you into his memory like he’s done so many times before because you’re damn near perfect. Like you were made for him - for him to give you everything he wants to give to you.

“Fuck- fuck- you feel better’n I remembered. How’s‘at possible?”

The words escape him, rushing out as if you’ve put a spell on him, and they almost escape you, too, your pulse beating in your ears. But he’s so close to you, growling out through gritted teeth into your ear and pushing his lips to the curve of your jawbone like they need to be on your skin. He pulls his body away, chest leaving yours, and you pull at his waist to bring him back, whining lewd for him and only him, shameless and betraying the blush you feel as you register his stutters, but he doesn’t. Instead, Daryl smiles, that same damn grin with his teeth hooked along his bottom lip and eyes hooded as he watches every change in expression. You groan, half in the way he rolls his pelvis just enough to rub against that small bundle of nerves that beg for him, and half in annoyance at the way that lascivious expression seems to make every electron in you buzz.

“Shut- shut up.”

He lets out a sharp breath, a singular amused ‘ha’ following it, cock hardening and twitching even more at the fact he’s making you blush like that first night he had lavished every inch of your body with his lips - like you didn’t deserve every single damn word escaping from him. Leaning his weight against his left forearm that lies on the side of your head, Daryl brings his face to yours, nipping at your lips and seeking your tongue before he starts speaking.

“You should see yourself like this, y’know. Fuckin’ perfect for me.”

For a man who only ever growls and mutters, he certainly liked to talk a lot when he was pounding into you the way only he knows how and you’re just so damn unbelievable for him. For him. You’re his to love and it sparks something within in him that makes his tongue fucking run and his hips speed up involuntarily. Hell, you probably heard more of his voice in this shower tryst than the whole first nightwatch you had with him. You’re not even sure the water is beating down onto you anymore because the heat of your body makes the shower pale in comparison.

The sweat accumulating on his back and chest and everywhere is washed away almost immediately as it forms and you’re grasping for something to hold onto. Clawing, you wrap both your arms under and around his shoulders and scratch desperately at his back, grinding up against him and making jumbled noises of moans and Daryl’s name when he drags against that spot he knows so well. It’s skin on skin, the ceramic wall ceasing to feel cold as you screw your eyes shut and let yourself mount and mount with each roll of his hips. You hear a nearly feral growl, feeling your leg being hiked up higher by the elbow hooked underneath your thigh, and a loud noise breaks from your throat when his thumb swipes where his cock meets you.

“C’mon, we ain’t got all night.”

You’re close and he knows it. It was like he was rubbing it in your face, the fact he could make you like this - how quickly he could reduce you into the incoherent, ruined state you always seemed to become for him. Attentive. He’s always attentive. You can tell by the way he’s memorized everything that makes you shake and capitalizes on them, thrusts coupled with the tight circles pulling you closer and closer to that precipice of pleasure, but he says those words anyways, hoping to get a reaction from you. Daryl’s not an impatient lover - he would spend hours buried in you if you let him - but he’s so damn close and perhaps almost selfishly, he wants to watch you succumb first. He wants to watch the water race down your body as you writhe for him against the wall, and he wants that to send him over the edge.

“Then- then do better, Daryl.”

You bite back, your breath grazing against his neck and a wet heat rushes through him, making him groan nearly wrecked as his hair tickles your cheek. Reaching behind his muscular body to his shoulder blades, one of his large hands is more than enough to wrap around both of your wrists and he takes them in his grasp, moving them until they’re secure against the ceramic wall behind you. You’re warm for him. Pliable for him despite the veil of distaste in your voice and he can’t get enough of it.

Daryl’s so fucking happy you bite back.

His hips stop and you let out an almost childish cry, but he stays buried deep, filling you up to the brim as the water beats down on the both of you and holding you against the tiles by the weight he’s pressing from where you meld to him. His face is so close to your ear now. So much so that you can feel the breath when he speaks, a dangerous growl resounding through your body before his teeth graze along your neck.

“Hm? I ain’t never heard a complaint from you be- before. That a- fuck- are ya challengin’ me?”

An expletive drops from Daryl’s lips when you clench around him, no doubt from the sudden crash of your mounting pleasure, and he pushes impossibly further into you, firmly pinning you down until he knows you won’t be able to move anymore. He wants to show you he can stop at any moment, that he can make you work for it, but you both know he’ll give in. Maybe you didn’t know the extent of which you have him wrapped around your finger, but if you even knew half of it, you would know he would never stop. Not when he was so desperate for you he can barely think of anything except the way you look and feel. At least, not unless you wanted him to.

“Are you g-gonna take it up?”

Although your mouth ceases there, your brain runs, pleas tickling at the tip of your tongue, but you can barely manage to form the meager few syllables that have already escaped you. Eyebrows knotted at your forehead, you try desperately to coax more movement from him - a whine, a whimper, a thrash of your pinned hands flattened by his strong grip - but Daryl’s so damn still and it’s driving you crazy. When your body settles for only ragged breathing and shaking thighs, he takes it as his cue to lean down, lips brushing yours in a kiss that’s so affectionate you forget that, just moments ago, he was relentlessly pounding into you.

“Don’t know. Seems like you might be wantin’ it more’n me.”

Smiling against your mouth, he pulls away just enough to speak. A challenge in his words so obvious to you that you try in vain to buck your hips to his. If he didn’t sound so good and look so good and feel so damn good, you would have denied it, but you’re strung so taut, so close to the peak, that you can barely form a retort. A stupid, handsome smirk rests on his lips as he waits. Patient. Like it wasn’t affecting him, being buried in you. He’s just waiting for your words - goading you as he watches from underneath his lashes.

“Daryl, I swear to God if you stop right-“

The insincere threat is enough to spur him into action. Partly due to the fact you sound so desperate and ruined for him, and partly because he just needs to feel you again - he would lay you down and take you the way you deserved on the bed come morning, but right now was a different matter entirely. Swearing, his smirk drops in favour of a scowl, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he snaps up into you in quick succession. The hand at your thigh is roaming now, massaging and palming wherever his nimble fingers can worm their way onto before it splays across your ass, using the grip to pull your body impossibly closer to his. Daryl would have made you beg for him - he wanted to - but he can’t stop himself. Not when you look so pretty up against the wall and you’re taking his cock so well.

“Been gone four days an’ you’re already so damn needy.”

Whether that statement was directed at you or himself, you would never know.

An abashed whimper escapes through you and you want to deny it, perhaps just to see what would happen, but you can’t. You can’t because Daryl’s right. He knows he is, and you know he is. You thrash your arms so you can touch him, feel his skin underneath your fingers, but his grip around your wrists keeps you firm against the ceramic tiling - just enough to keep you pinned so he can admire the way you squirm for him. Grunts and groans of your name escape from him with each thrust, the feeling of your body melded to his much too intoxicating for him to keep his mouth shut.

“What, you embarrassed now? Wanna cover your mouth? Keep them noises from me when you’re soundin’ so damn pretty? Ya better not be thinkin’ about it. ‘Cause ya damn well ain’t gotta.”

Daryl tilts his head, eyes squinting in faux-concern and mocking you as his hips relentlessly hit up into yours, pushing out the breath from your lungs which escape in tantalizing gasps with each roll. You’re so close, and the only thing you can do is moan at the sound of his rough voice, the coil tightening in your abdomen because of his determined thrusts. You just need a little more - just a little more - and he reads you like a book.

Without warning, the hand pinning your wrists frees itself, his finger pinpointing back between your thighs with an unadulterated eagerness to pull your climax from you and you damn near cry out Daryl’s name as you claw at his back. It’s like second nature to him, the way he can touch you and make you crumble for him. Practice does make perfect, and he’s always been a persistent man.

“Ya sure as hell weren’t when you were bein’ a brat.”

Everything he’s doing to you is almost effortless. It makes your legs shake and without warning, your thighs tense up, a white hot surge of pleasure erupting from the base of your stomach and you gasp a broken moan of Daryl’s name as you clutch at his neck in an effort to keep yourself from collapsing onto him. He holds you close, chest pushed up to yours and breathing ruined into your ear as he works you through your climax with dextrous fingers, chasing his own as his rhythm begins to falter. Sporadic thrusts meet each flutter of your clenching warmth. until he can’t hold out anymore.

Screwing his eyes shut, a stuttered chanting of profanities mixed in perfectly with pleads of your name fan out from his mouth and he pulls out, rubbing himself harsh against your thigh before your fingers wrap around his cock. Fuck, Daryl nearly crumbles right then and there, a ragged groan rushing from him before his hips jerk upwards to your touch - nothing could even compare to it and he thinks nothing could ever come close. Nothing except you. Pulsing in your grasp, both of his rough hands dig into either of your thighs and he stills, teeth gritted as the evidence of his pleasure hits your stomach before being washed away in the steady stream of water.

Satisfied, you smile and lean towards him, your head coming off the ceramic wall, and he parts his lips immediately for your tongue, but you pull away after giving him a quick peck. Scrunching his nose, Daryl pats lightly at your thigh for your attention and seeks your lips once more, moving his with the same amount of overwhelming love and affection he always does. It makes you feel warm inside, like you were the only one in the world for him. And you were. At least, in his mind you were.

He releases the grip he has on your thigh and slowly lowers it, his hand still ghosting close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off his body. Both legs still shaking slightly, your foot hits the floor of the shower and you lean your weight on it, tentative and experimentally at first before you overestimate its security and half-fall-half-stumble into him. Daryl notices, of course he does, and he swallows down the pride welling in his chest as his sure grasp steadies you against his body.  

“Hey, hey, I got ya. Jus’- jus’- I got ya.”

By instinct, he speaks, the rumble of his chest against yours making your heart well up with the familiar fondness you always experience when it comes to him. Daryl wasn’t a man of many words even though you had managed to break him out of his shell a little - at least with you - but there was no doubt in your mind that he genuinely and wholeheartedly cared about you. In his eyes, you had strung the stars into the sky and he always treated you with a softness he never thought himself capable of.

With one hand on his waist and one on his shoulder, you use Daryl as a crutch, continuing to lean your weight on your legs until they cease to shake. When you can stand on your own, albeit with wobbly legs, you link your fingers in both of his and meet his protective gaze - alert as if prepared to catch you again if your body gave any type of signal. He smiles when he sees the expression on your face and brings your knuckles to his lips, pressing a firm kiss onto the back of each of your hands before letting go and reaching for the bar of soap you two had ignored in exchange for something more riveting.

“Here, let me- I’ll help ya wash up.”

It meets your shoulder and it’s cold as he trails it down, lathering your right arm before moving across your chest and to your left. Smiling at his concern, you hum, nodding your head and content at the feeling of his tenderness as he continues to dutifully run the suds down along your body. Daryl unabashedly goes about copping a feel or two when his hand just so happens to fall onto your chest or your ass, a boyish grin meeting your quirked eyebrow when you question his intentions with a look. If you actually, truly cared to ask him, he would say he was helping you wash your body and making sure he was doing it to the best of his ability - quality assurance or some shit like that.

He helps you lather, too, calloused fingers rubbing off dead skin much better than yours could as he focuses the showerhead on him. You laugh when he pulls you into him, water streaming down your body along with his hands as the bubbles wash off your body and you run the bar of soap along the broad expanse of his shoulders, doing your fair share of subtle… touching too. Daryl all but melts into your caring hands, revelling in the way your attention is solely focused on him before he grunts, as if signalling you to look at him. When you do, his hands loop around your waist, head tilted to one side as he gingerly rubs those little shapes he always love to draw onto your skin.

“Y’alright? Was, uh, was that alright, I mean.”

Allowing you to maneuver him under the shower, he begrudgingly lets go of you to rinse off all the soap and feels genuinely clean for the first time in what felt like days. Smiling, you respond, saluting playfully and laying a small peck onto the corner of his lips before you spin around, pulling the curtain open just enough to reach for the towel lying just a few inches away on the towel rack but still keeping the warmth from the water in.  

“Yes, sir!”

His cock twitches at the name, betraying the slur of fatigue in his voice and he sighs at himself, turning the shower knob off and opening the curtain fully, reaching for his own towel that hangs next to yours. He always did feel like a teenager when it came to you, and usually he didn’t mind it, but he really was tired before this and his back is killing him, so maybe another time.

Drying your body, you turn your head towards him and smile before making quick work of your wet hair and stepping out, pulling your underwear on from where you left it on the bathroom counter. It’s a small smile, one fully innocent and only ever reserved for him, but that look makes your words replay in his mind. A shudder runs through him as he tries to ease a smile onto his face too, admiring the scene of you for a moment. It’s domesticity, showing him a homelife he could actually feel loved and safe in; reminding Daryl something like that actually existed for him.

He imagines meeting you in a different world, wooing you like you deserved through coffee dates and Radiohead concerts, not through killing reanimated corpses or guarding Alexandria’s walls together, and his whole body calms down.

But then you pull on a shirt that’s much too big for you - one of his shirts that you said you liked wearing because it smelled like him - and he swallows his spit as if he hadn’t seen you naked just moments ago, a familiar shudder running through him again. Definitely another time. Near future, preferably.

Hopefully.

“You coming?”

Your voice breaks Daryl out of his daydream and he grunts an answer, smirking at the joke that just popped into his head as he replies with a curt ‘I just did’ and catches the pair of boxers you throw at him in response. Rolling your eyes, you comb your fingers through your hair and try to dry it as much as you can with the towel before reaching for your toothbrush. He follows suit, dressed in only his boxers as he brushes his teeth and shakes his wet hair at you like a dog, causing you to whip water at him off your fingertips after you wash off the excess toothpaste dribbling at the corners of your mouth. Smiling internally, he spits, tasting mint on his tongue that he'd much rather replace with the taste of your lips, even though he knows full well you’re just as minty as he is.

“Thank you.”

Meeting his eye in the mirror, you give him a confused look, eyebrows raised in an expression he thought was much too cute on your face for your own good. Your hands don’t still as you continue to rub out the water in your hair, determined not to go to bed with it too wet and risking it to clump up and dry tangled.

“For lettin’ me, uh, do that.”

His naturally gravelly voice clears up, turning slightly more timid than you were used to and you notice the shift in his behaviour. He avoids your gaze, waiting for your response as he fiddles with the lantern he now has in his grasp, unsure of what you would say and you decide your hair is dry enough. Hanging your towel back onto the rack next to his, you grab his free hand and lead the two of you back towards the bed, smiling affectionately as you turn off the lightsource and place it onto the nightstand. Wide-eyed, Daryl stares at you, as if waiting for you to tell him to leave - that you hated what he had done - but you break him from that train of thought as you slip under the covers and welcome him to join you.

Relief washes over him and he happily climbs in, groaning at the feeling of your body next to his and he succumbs to the comfort of the mattress. Pushing yourself into his side, his arms automatically open for you and he swears he could cry when you brush your thumb against his cheekbone and lean up to him.

“Anything for you.”

He feels the words as you whisper them just inches away from his lips, and he relishes in them when you pull away from the quick peck and dig your face into your pillow, closing your eyes and just looking so at peace. You’re so close to him Daryl’s in awe and he can’t help but stare. Wanting to hold onto the feeling of his skin a little longer, your finger draws a little heart over where his beats in his chest and you speak again, voice so warm and sincere.

“I’m glad you’re home.”

Home. That’s what it is to him now, too.

“Glad ‘m home too.”

With a final kiss laid on your forehead, Daryl echoes your statement and pulls your body closer into his. A small smile tugs at his lips and his arm slings lazily at your waist before he, too, closes his eyes, allowing himself to fall into the lull of sleep.

It was good to be back.

Back to a home he had made with you.

──── ⋙ 

@daryldixonluv @pulplorrd @fuseburner @hells-mistress @maria--grey-blog @marylimlp @pncnsc @tinachristeen @hail-yourselves @whimsicallymad @just-always-tired​ @phoenixblack89​

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[jcwriting]

Written in the Stars

summary ↬ being soulmates with a werewolf? pretty easy. being jungkook’s soulmate? the easiest thing in the world. there’s only one teensy tiny problem. he doesn’t want to fuck you.

pairing ↬ werewolf!jungkook x reader

genre ↬ soulmate!au, abo verse, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort (this is so fucking dramatic and for what)

word count ↬ 10.4k my hand slipped

warnings ↬ swearing, angst (but with a happy ending bc im a sappy bitch), jk is stupid in love (emphasis on stupid), mentions of violence (very brief and i don’t go into too much detail but just to warn yall), slight nsfw (sex is a big topic for like half of this but not sex is had...i know im shocked too), half of this is background info/setting up the story the other half is finally addressing the summary lolol, jk is kind of an asshole but he has reasons!!!!!

authors note ↬ hello lovelies! here’s a small little thing for you all (laughs in 10k word count). this has been sitting in my drafts for fucking ever and i just needed to get it out there and out of my hands. im thinking about writing a part two where the actual ~*/sex/*~ is had but im still on the fence about that. please let me know what you think! i literally crave your interactions so pls dont be shy,,,,,okay love you bye :)

(ps i was so close to naming this Rewrite the Stars but since this has absolutely nothing to do with The Greatest Showman i didn’t. but i was close,,,,so fucking close)

You always knew Jeon Jungkook was destined for great things.

It was written in the stars, your mother had told you after he had first stepped foot into your family-owned grocery store. Your mother didn’t have any special powers, she just had a thing for astrology. While you normally shrugged off her random proclamations about divine intervention and planetary alignments, you found that Jungkook was something you couldn’t ignore or chalk up as your mother’s latest tea leaf reading.

From the moment you set eyes on him you knew he was different. While your family held zero claim to any sort of mystical or magical inclinations, you were well aware of those who did. It was no secret that non-humans roamed the Earth in plain sight, even though it had taken humans eons to realize this. After years of savage wars and civil unrest, agreements had come into place and governing bodies were adjusted to accept the changes that had finally been made. But, this was all before your time. You were the generation that was born into the period of peace, the first children to not experience bloodshed before they could walk. The world you knew now was almost a complete one-eighty of what it had been.

Where before those who were not of human blood had to do everything they could to blend in, now could be free of the shadows. Your classrooms had both humans and non-humans in their rosters. Some of your teachers were hybrids. Curriculum expanded to teach humans about a world that had once been entirely unknown to them. One of your favorite teachers was a witch who regaled your tenth grade class with stories of goblin wars, wizard duels, and vampire covens. All tales that you had once thought were nothing but fiction were now anything but.

Which is why, the second Jeon Jungkook entered the grocery store that your parents owned and that you had worked at since you were old enough to speak in full sentences, you knew who he was. You didn’t even question it.

He was a werewolf. A powerful one. You could see it in the way he carried himself. The purposeful strides he took down the narrow aisles, the confidence in his broad shoulders. Humans weren’t nearly as sensitive as their hybrid counterparts but you also paid attention in your classes. Or, perhaps you were more aware than other humans. Never in your life did you have the issues other faced when meeting a non-human for the first time. You always knew who they were without them having to tell you. You just knew.

So, when Jeon Jungkook stepped up to your register with a bottle of water and some raw beef, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t bend under his dark gaze or shuffle your feet in an awkward attempt to break the silence. Instead, you flashed him your customer service smile and rang up his items. He didn’t say a word as he paid, barely sparing you a second glance as he strode out of the store.

“He’s going to be a great and powerful man,” your mother said in that feathery light voice of hers. “It was written in the stars.”

You couldn’t help but agree.

Jeon Jungkook came into your store everyday for the next month. He bought the same thing every time. A bottle of water and a package of raw beef. The only time he spared you any words was to say thank you or the occasional hello if the sun was shining. Usually, he was alone. Sometimes, he came with a few members of his pack. You liked those days. He smiled a little brighter and talked a little louder when they were around. Especially around Taehyung.

Then, after a month, he didn’t come in. Not for an entire week. From Monday to Sunday, you hadn’t seen a hide nor hair of him. A part of you was worried, so worried that you almost stopped Taehyung in the middle of the street to ask of Jungkook’s whereabouts before realizing how insane that made you look, the other part was chastising yourself for caring. Jeon Jungkook was a customer. Nothing more, nothing less.

The following Monday had come and you had finally stopped glancing at the sliding doors every five minutes. You no longer expected his commanding presence to rock your little world. Instead, you continued your day as if it had been any other. That was, until, Jeon Jungkook stepped through the entrance looking as if he was walking on air. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

“Did you have a good heat?” You asked when he stepped up to your register. Jungkook fumbled the water bottle he had been setting onto the conveyer belt before turning to stare at you.

“What did you just say?”

You didn’t shrink under his intense glare. “I was asking if you enjoyed your heat. Seems like you did.”

“How do you know I was in my rut?”

“Oh, is rut the correct terminology? Sorry, they always interchanged them in class, I was never sure what was appropriate.” You shrugged and rang up his items. “It was kind of obvious, though. You seemed pretty agitated about a week-and-a-half ago, then you disappear for a week, and now you’re back looking happier than ever. If it wasn’t your rut then I want to know where you went on vacation because that’s where I’m heading to next.”

Jungkook laughed. That almost made you jump out of your skin. You had never heard him laugh before. It was throaty, it was deep, and it was wonderful. “I’ll be sure to send you the link to the Airbnb.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

He smirked. “I’m here every day, aren’t I?”

You tilted your head as you accepted the cash he handed to you. “Clearly, you’re not that reliable.”

Jungkook laughed again. It was becoming your new favorite sound. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to appear flaky.”

“You’re forgiven,” you decided as you handed him the plastic bag of his purchases. Teasingly, you added, “just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

He flashed you a smile that showed off his sharpened canines. “Don’t worry, darling. I never make the same mistake twice.”

Jeon Jungkook kept his promise. He showed up everyday, like clockwork. Bought the same thing. Arrived at the same time. The only thing that changed was how he treated you. It wasn’t that he treated you badly before, he had always been polite. But now, he talked to you. He asked you questions and answered yours. More often than not, he laughed.

(It had become your favorite sound.)

For three months, this continued. The two of you had settled into a comfortable routine, something you relied on and expected. Until, he changed that.

Until, Jeon Jungkook asked you out on a date.

“What did you just say?”

“Are you free? Tonight?” You glanced around, almost expecting to see some sort of supermodel posing behind you to explain the absolute absurdity of the situation. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for the hidden cameras. I think I’m getting Punk’d.”

Jungkook sighed and placed both hands on the counter that separated the two of you. “Look at me.” You did. Slowly and warily, but you did. “Does it look like I’m lying to you?”

Narrowing your eyes, you regarded him carefully. He seemed serious. But, then again, do you ever really know someone? “I don’t know. I’ve never actually seen you lie before so I wouldn’t know the difference.”

“Fine. Ask me what color my shirt is.”

“What color is your shirt?”

“White,” he deadpanned. You glanced down at his chest. His shirt was black.

“Jungkook!”

He threw his head back and released a full bellied laugh. Even in your exasperation you couldn’t help but soften a little. “I’m sorry, darling. I couldn’t help myself.” Annoyed, you huffed and spun to face the cash register. Stabbing your finger onto the touchscreen, you ignored Jungkook’s obvious presence on the opposite side of the counter. Until his hand reached around the card reader and grasped a hold of your chin. The warmth of his fingers forced your head to turn to meet his.

“Come to dinner with me.” His voice was nothing but a rumble in his chest, his eyes so black and all-consuming you couldn’t do anything but agree with him. He seemed pleased by your response as his fingers tightened against your skin and a grateful smile flicked past his lips. His gaze darted down to your mouth and your breath froze in your chest.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to?”

“No.” You tried to shake your head but his grip didn’t allow you much movement. He was taken aback by your answer, a small frown tugging at his mouth. You quickly backtracked to fix the situation. “I don’t want our first kiss to be in a grocery store. That’s a new low that I refuse to reach.”

Jungkook chuckled and tapped your chin gently. “Alright, darling. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Again, he kept his promise to you. He showed up at your parents house exactly at seven, wearing a button-down shirt and slacks. The tulips he had gotten for you was thrust into your hands the moment you opened the door. Flashing him a genuine smile, you hurried into the kitchen to set them in water while your mother grilled him on his birth time. You were quick to drag him away, practically throwing him towards the car as you waved goodbye.

“Sorry,” you sighed as Jungkook opened the passenger door for you. “She has a…thing for astrology. She’s probably creating your star map or whatever right now.”

“It’s okay,” he responded once he got into the drivers seat. “It’s sweet of her to care.”

You snorted. “She’s delusional is what she is.”

“So, you’re saying you don’t believe in astrology?”

“Do you?”

Jungkook shrugged as he pulled out of your dirt driveway. He looked so damn attractive behind the wheel it was honestly unfair. “Not really saying I do or don’t. All I know is that there are a lot of things out there that are out of our control. If believing in the stars and planets helps you gain some of that control back, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

“God, don’t talk like that in front of my mother. She’ll want to start dating you.”

He grinned and placed a hand on your knee. “Tell her I’m already taken.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond to that. Not that he didn’t give you one, it was just that you literally had nothing to say. With just one sentence he opened the floodgates of your brain and the amount of thoughts that were flying through your conscious was painful. Anxiety fluttered in your stomach and you pressed your lips together to keep you from word vomiting onto him. No, it was better to keep your mouth shut and let the moment pass.

By the time you reached the restaurant you were a trembling mess of nerves. Were you guys dating? You thought this was just a ‘testing the waters’ date, not a ‘you’re my girlfriend now’ date. Did you have to make it Facebook official? You hated that shit.

Jungkook didn’t comment on your obvious distress, though. He merely placed a hand on the small of your back, ignoring how you jerked in surprise, and led you into the quiet bistro. Nodding politely to the hostess who was practically panting at the sight of him (you honestly couldn’t blame her) and pulled out your chair for you. When he sat down, he started talking. Idle chat at first. Commenting on one of the dishes, asking about the college classes you were taking at your local university. Before you realized it, wine was in your glass and your shoulders were loose. Previous nerves forgotten, you lost yourself in Jungkook. You drank, you ate, you laughed, and genuinely enjoyed his company. Honestly, it was the best date you’d ever been on.

“I have to be honest with you,” Jungkook spoke after he finished his raw steak. “I have an ulterior motive for asking you here tonight.”

“Oh,” you mumbled around the shrimp you had just tossed in your mouth. “So…this isn’t a date?”

“No, it is,” Jungkook clarified quickly around a dry chuckle. He seemed…nervous. It put you on edge immediately. “This is definitely a date. And, also, more.”

“More? What, is this a proposal too?” You were joking. A 100% joking. But Jungkook was staring at you so seriously it made you panic. “Jungkook, if you get down on one knee here I swear-”

“I’m not proposing,” he assured you. “This is something more than that.”

“More?” You parroted. Jungkook sighed.

“Do you know what a true mate is?”

Right there, in that quaint little bistro, on a date with quite possibly the most untouchable man you’d ever met, he explained how you were irrevocably his. His true mate, his soulmate.

Jungkook explained everything in great detail, which you appreciated, because honestly, you had no words. He explained how when he was born, the witch who cared for him told his father that his future glared brightly ahead of him, but only when he met his other half. True mates were rare. Mating was common, the wolves in his pack could have multiple mates or a lifelong one, but true mates were destiny. Someone or something out there had forged the two of you together. You were essentially each others other half. He was made for you and you were made for him.

“But…aren’t true mates only for wolves? I thought it’s impossible for a human to be a true mate,” you asked in a shaky voice once Jungkook took a breath.

“It was supposed to be impossible. Until, I met you.” Jungkook stared at you with a sort of reverence that made your entire body blush. “I have no idea how you are. I’ve spent hours researching. I’ve consulted with members of my pack and others. No one knows why.”

“Are you sure, though? I mean…what if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.” Jungkook shook his head. “I visited the witch right after I met you. She took one look at me and told me that I had finally found my true mate. She said she’d never seen a future so bright before.”

You had no words for that. For the first time in your life, you were speechless. Jungkook seemed to understand. He let you sit in silence as he paid for the bill and walked you out to the car. The drive back to your parents house was the same. You couldn’t speak. The shock rendered you stupid.

By the time Jungkook pulled into the driveway you still hadn’t spoken a word to each other. You stepped out of the car before he could open the door for you. Walking up to the porch steps in a trance, you didn’t hear him follow you until he clasped your wrist in his hand. Turning to face him, you were surprised to see his brown eyes so big. They practically sparkled in the moonlight and he looked so soft and sweet you nearly melted into the wood beneath your feet.

“Please,” he whispered. “Can you…just - are you okay? You’ve been so quiet. I’m worried I’ve scared you off or something.”

With that voice, it was impossible to deny him. So, you said the first thing that popped in your head. “Do we have to make it Facebook official?”

Jungkook stared at you before bursting into laughter. “Really? That’s all you have to say?”

You blushed and glanced down. “I’m just worried, that’s all. I can’t remember my Facebook password so even if you wanted to change it I don’t think it’ll work.”

“So that’s why you never accepted my friend request,” Jungkook teased. Before you could squeak out a response, he wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you forward. You kept your arms crossed across your chest but let yourself fall against him.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you whined as you buried your face into his shoulder. He smelled so good, a mixture of pine and spice. “My brain hasn’t worked since you told me I’m yours, so bear with me.”

Jungkook chuckled and gently swayed you from side to side. “Does that mean you’re okay with this? All of this?”

Sighing, you lifted your head up and stepped away from him. Jungkook was not impressed and pulled you back to him. Your heart swelled in your chest and you wrapped your arms around his neck in consolation. “Honestly? I haven’t really processed anything. You’ve had your whole life to come to terms with this. I just found out thirty minutes ago that I’m someone’s soulmate. It’s a lot to take in.”

Jungkook nodded as he tapped his fingers against your hips. “I know. It’s a lot…I’m a lot. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be with me. I won’t-”

Now it was your turn to burst into laughter. You couldn’t believe those words had left his mouth. It was easily the most absurd thing you’d ever heard. “Jungkook, I want to make something very clear. I have no problem being your true mate. That’s not the issue here. Well, there really isn’t an issue. It’s just…hard to believe, I guess. I have to process that this is my new reality.”

“Really?” Jungkook perked up and looked so fucking cute you couldn’t help but cup his cheeks. His skin was so warm despite the cold autumn air that surrounded you both. “You want to do this? Be with me? Be mine?” All you could do was nod. You were so overwhelmed with emotions. The shock was evident, but a piece of you was so happy. You felt whole.

Jungkook’s face split into a wide smile that caused his nose to scrunch up. He wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around. Squealing, you slung your legs around his hips and held on. Normally, you’d rather die than show this much affection to someone. But, this was Jungkook. Your soulmate.

“So…what do we do now?” You asked once Jungkook set you down. “Is there, like, a ceremony or something?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted as he stared down at you. He had a hand against your jaw and was rubbing your cheek tenderly. “I really didn’t think I’d get this far.”

You scoffed at his ridiculousness. While recognizing you were Jungkook’s true mate was going to take some time, believing that he thought you’d deny him was utter nonsense. “What if…what if we date, first?” You suggested timidly. “I know that sounds kind of weird considering we’re supposed to be the loves of each others lives. But, I don’t really know you all that well. And, I think this is going to take sometime for me to get used to. Maybe we should date, get to know each other, and just learn how to be with one another.”

“Whatever you want,” Jungkook agreed. “We can do whatever you want. Just as long as I have you, I’m happy.”

Two years passed.

Two blissful, wonderful years. Two years of dating, two years of loving, two years of being Jeon Jungkook’s. It was everything you could’ve asked for and more. You had never felt so loved and cherished in your entire life. He respected you, he took care of you, and most importantly, he was there for you in every sense. Since the moment you met him, you hadn’t been alone. He hadn’t let you. Jungkook knew you better than you knew yourself.

And, it was the same for him. You were there for him when he transitioned into the leader of his pack. You were there when he took over the CEO position from his father and encouraged and supported him every step of the way. You let yourself be loved and in return he let you love him. It was wonderful.

Except, for one tiny thing.

While the emotional aspect of your relationship flourished and bloomed into something beautiful, the physical side remained stagnant. Make out sessions and heavy petting were a norm in your relationship. At first, it didn’t bother you. In fact, you loved that Jungkook was taking things so slow and so seriously. But, eventually, your needs began to grow. You found yourself wanting him in more ways than one, wants that only he could satisfy. Jungkook refused. Every time.

It wasn’t like he refused your every need. No, Jungkook was extremely attentive. When it came to himself, that’s when things got dicy. He had no problem spending hours between your legs, worshipping you until you were crying from the overstimulation. Yet, he wouldn’t let you anywhere near him. Not without lack of trying on your part. The minute your hands went down to his waistband, he pushed you away. Every time you tried to dip your mouth to the obvious bulge in his pants, he lifted you up and kissed you breathless until you forgot your name. It wasn’t until after a year of dating that he finally let you grind on his clothed cock. Even then, he held off until you finished and then walked out with quite possibly the worst case of blue balls. You hated that he did this to himself. The worst part was, you couldn’t understand why.

The one time you had brought it up to him it had resulted in the worst fight the two of you had ever gotten into. It was the only argument that was never really resolved. After the yelling and the tears, all you got out of Jungkook was that mating with a wolf was not pretty. It was extremely dangerous and he refused to put you in that kind of danger. End of discussion. No matter how hard you tried to persuade him or broach the subject, he shut it down. Hard. Eventually, you gave up.

He even spent his ruts away from you. Every three months, he left you for a week. You knew he had a place somewhere up in the mountains and you assumed that’s where he went. You had no idea. There was no point even asking to come along. You loved your boyfriend and didn’t want to purposely give him a heart attack. You hated it when he left. As much as you tried to hide it and convince him that you were just fine, he wasn’t stupid. Being away from him was tough. A piece of you was missing whenever he was gone. And you were only whole again when he returned.

This past week had been one of those weeks. He had left on Sunday for the mountains. He was agitated and clingy, how he normally was pre-rut. Jungkook wouldn’t let you leave his side and you spent most of the weekend on his lap or wrapped in his arms. Not that you minded. When he left your parents house on Sunday night, you’d had to coax him out of the door. Promising him that you’d be okay and that you’d see him next week. It wasn’t until several kisses later did Jungkook finally leave.

While you’d been doing this for two years, it never got easier. More manageable? Sure. But definitely not easier. All you could do was go through the motions. You went to work at the local bakery, came home and helped your mom with dinner, watched TV with your dad before going to bed. Taehyung and Jimin would visit often, threatened by Jungkook to keep you company. While you assured them it wasn’t necessary, you secretly didn’t mind. They made you laugh and made you temporarily forget your boyfriend was miles away from you. Sometimes, if you were lucky, he’d call you to tell you goodnight. But those times were rare. Normally, you didn’t hear from him until Friday or Saturday when he was finally coming out of his rut and returning to the world.

By the time Sunday rolled around, you were a jittery ball of nerves. Not in a bad sense. You were just excited. The anticipation killed you and it took all of your willpower to sit and wait for his text to tell you to come over. Your parents always left you alone on these Sundays, unable to deal with your hyperactiveness and constant fidgeting.

This Sunday was no different. You puttered around your room for the better part of the day. You spent the other part in the kitchen, baking like your life depended on it. Jungkook loved your cookies and you always made sure to come over with at least three batches after his ruts. He always said that was his second favorite part about coming home, after seeing you, of course.

You had just finished packaging the final batch in a glass cookie jar when your phone dinged. You didn’t have to read the message, you knew exactly what it said. Pure joy rushed through your system as you threw on your coat and shouted a hasty goodbye to your parents. Juggling the cookies and car keys, you sprinted to your car. The drive to Jungkook’s was thankfully not long. About ten minutes, as long as you didn’t hit any traffic on the main road. Luck was on your side, though, and you showed up at Jungkook’s house in eight minutes.

Taehyung’s car was in the driveway when you pulled up, which wasn’t odd. Although Jungkook owned the house, the members of his pack were almost always around. While most preferred to travel in their wolf forms, you knew Taehyung and Namjoon preferred cars. Something about being able to listen to their own music without comments from the peanut gallery. You didn’t really understand and didn’t really need to. You had just chalked it up as one of their many quirks.

Carrying the trays of cookies in both hands, you shut your car door with your foot before speed-walking up the stone walkway to Jungkook’s home. The screen door was shut, but the wooden door was swung wide open. You had just reached for the metal handle when you heard it.

A deep, threatening growl ripped through the peaceful quiet and froze you in place. You knew it was Jungkook. While you had only heard it once, you’d never forgotten it. It was when the two of you had attended a party and an alpha from a neighboring pack had cornered you in the hallway. Jungkook had found you cowered against the wall as the other alpha had caged you in. The sound that had left his chest had given you equal parts comfort and fear. Comfort, because he was there and you knew you were safe. Fear, because you could see in the way he bared his teeth and how his muscles vibrated, he had been furious and bloodthirsty.

That’s what you felt now, fear.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

From your vantage point in front of the screen door, you could see directly into the kitchen. Taehyung was leaning against the granite countertop and Jungkook was seated at the island. The tension was so thick you practically choked on it.

“Enough, Taehyung.”

“No,” Taehyung snapped, seeming just as angry as Jungkook. “I’m not dropping it. Not this time.”

“Yes, you will,” Jungkook snarled. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Too fucking bad.” While Taehyung was also an alpha, he acted so much like a beta you never really noticed. Until now. “I’m not going to sit by and watch you do this to yourself anymore. Not spending your ruts correctly is only causing you more harm than good.”

“I’m doing things the way I want to, and it’s working-”

“The hell it is!” Jungkook growled at the interruption but Taehyung ignored him. “It’s not working, and you know it. Anyone with two fucking eyes knows it. It’s getting so bad that the pack is noticing, too. Even Namjoon has realized something is wrong, and he’s as oblivious as they come.”

“If they have a problem with me they can take it up with me.”

“No, they can’t. Because you won’t listen. Your head is so far up your ass you can’t even hear yourself anymore. What you’re doing right now is not working. Something needs to change.”

“Like what?” Jungkook spat.

“You know what,” Taehyung bit back. Jungkook was practically vibrating from rage. You knew you needed to go get someone, someone from the pack to calm the two of them down. Things were only escalating, but you couldn’t move. Your brain screamed at you to run but your legs were rooted in place. “That’s is what’s so frustrating, Jungkook. This, all of this, could be solved. She’s right there-”

“Don’t.” Jungkook stood up so fast the chair he sat on flew backwards and hit the wall with a resounding crack.

“Why?” Taehyung threw his arms up in the air. “Why not? I don’t get it-”

“Because I don’t want her!” Jungkook yelled, the force of it rang throughout the house. You had no idea who the she was that they were referring to. You assumed it was someone from the pack. It was well-known that wolves with human mates sometimes turned to other she-wolves to help with their ruts. You figured that’s what Jungkook did whenever he went away for a week. It had bothered you at first, but you knew he had his needs and that they were at a biological level. You refused to make him feel guilty or ashamed for taking care of himself.

“You don’t want her?” Taehyung was enraged. You could tell by the way he straightened his spine and unfurled himself to his full height. Jungkook bristled in response and the muscles in his back strained against the thin material of his shirt.

“No, I don’t!” Jungkook exploded. “What don’t you understand about that? I don’t want her around me. I don’t need her, I’m fine on my own. The thought of having her there when…God - it makes me physically ill.”

“She’s your girlfriend. Above all of that, your true mate. You’re seriously going to deny yourself of her, for what? Just because you don’t like having her around?”

Oh.

That’s when it hit you. They weren’t talking about some random she-wolf. They were talking about you. You were the one Jungkook didn’t want. You were the one Jungkook didn’t need. You were the one he didn’t like having around. As the weight of the words sunk into your mind, you felt your chest becoming tighter and tighter.

Then, you’re heart broke right in half. You dropped the container of cookies and didn’t flinch when it shattered against the wooden slats. The sound unstuck your feet from their position on the porch and your fight or flight system took over. Without a second thought, you turned on your heel and ran.

You didn’t know if anyone was behind you, you didn’t turn around to check. Hands fumbled for the car door as you threw yourself into the drivers side. Pain ricocheted throughout your chest cavity and you struggled to breathe. Your brain was blank, the only thing your mind did was move your body to get you somewhere safe. You had to leave and you had to leave now.

Miraculously, your fingers found your keys and inserted them into the ignition on the second try. A flutter of movement occurred to the left of you but your eyes didn’t let you look that way. Instead, they focused on the rearview mirror as you reversed out of the driveway. Your right hand found the gearshift and moved it to drive. Soon, you were tearing down the street as your ears refused to register the agonized howls that echoed behind as you kept staring forward. Adrenaline pumped through your system and your body shivered in response, the splash of hormones had created a blanket of fake calm over you. The emotions, the pain, the thoughts were swirling inside of you, ready to break free and drown you, but your brain wouldn’t allow it.

It wasn’t until you reached the end of your long driveway that you felt the original spike of adrenaline fade away. Your mother was in the front, tending to the flowers, and looked up when she saw your car fly into its usual spot. She stood up and her face twisted into a frown when you got out of your seat.

“Honey, your aura…it’s concerning.” The blanket was yanked away and the pain crashed over you.

You couldn’t say a word, all you could do was collapse in your mother's arms and cry, cry, cry.

It took you two days to calm down. The tears had stopped rolling and your shoulders no longer shook from trying to hold your sobs behind your teeth. Your mother hadn’t left your side, leaving your father to answer the door whenever someone knocked. The only person who did was Taehyung and Jimin. Jungkook never showed up.

Well, that was a lie.

Jungkook did show up every morning and night, without fail. But he never came to your doorstep.  Instead, he was in the woods behind your house, patrolling, not daring to leave the protection of the forest. A part of you wondered if he was respecting your obvious need for space or if your mother had paid a witch to set up boundary lines that didn’t allow him to cross. Either way, you were grateful that you couldn’t see him. There was an incessant tugging in your heart to be near him but you staunchly ignored it, which would’ve been impossible if you saw his achingly beautiful face.

I don’t want her. I don’t need her. Having her there makes me physically ill. Those three sentences played in a constant loop in your head, like a horror movie you couldn’t escape from. You were the protagonist who couldn’t escape the maze, but the villain wasn’t kind enough to kill you off. No matter what you did, your brain wouldn’t stop repeating those three sentences. Your mother burned sage, she pressed crystals into your palms, she muttered ritual after ritual, but nothing worked.

You hated how affected you were. You had always told yourself that you would never be the girl who’d get so wrapped up in someone else they didn’t know who they were anymore. Independence was something you prided yourself on, but you seemed to be at a complete loss now. You couldn’t stop the waves of sadness and self-hatred at your depressed state. It was amazing how empty you felt yet so full of pain at the same time. Your mind and heart couldn’t seem to decide which hurt worse; your heart for having your soulmate so obviously reject you, or your brain for trying to make sense of the situation. When did this happen? How did this happen? How had you been so blind as to not see it?

“I don’t think we’re soulmates,” you rasped to your mom on the third morning. It had been the first words you had spoken to her since you had fell into her arms. She looked up from the bundle of herbs she was smoking.

“Why do you say that?”

You stared at your hands that had curled in on themselves. “I don’t make him happy. I-I never realized how uncomfortable I made him. I wish I had known. How did I miss it?”

Your mother tutted gently and gathered you in her arms. She smelled of lavender and wax. “This is good. I’m glad you’re letting yourself have this moment. Let’s sit in this and allow yourself to be embedded here.” But you didn’t want to have this moment. You didn’t want to have any moment and you’ve felt enough to last a lifetime. Instead, you rolled over, let sleep overtake you and tried to ignore the distant howling that rattled your window pane.

By nightfall of the fourth day, you were forced out of bed. Partly by choice, partly by force. Your parents had dipped out to run to the grocery store, despite your mother’s insistence that she could stay. You and your father managed to convince her to leave and you had gotten up to wave them goodbye. Sure, your heart was broken, but the least you could do was kiss them on the cheek before they left. You had turned around to shuffle into the kitchen to try and shovel something down your dry throat when a loud knock sounded at the front door. Hesitating, you carefully peeked through the kitchen window and saw Jimin on your front doorstep, dressed in all black.

Sighing, you stumbled over and pulled the door open. You figured you couldn’t avoid them for much longer. “Hey, Jimin.”

“Christ, you look like shit.”

You huffed out a laugh as Jimin stared at you in horror, not having the energy to be offended. You also knew, in a weird way, that this was Jimin’s way of caring for you. “Yeah. My mother’s covered all the mirrors in the house.”

Jimin nodded as he glanced at you from head to toe. “I want to ask if you’re okay but…” He gestured to your gaunt frame swaddled in a heavy sweatshirt and sweatpants. For the first time in two years, they were your own clothes, not Jungkook’s.

“I’m fine, Jimin,” you heaved a heavy sigh and leaned against the doorframe. “Do you want to come in? I think my mom boiled some tea not too long ago.”

Jimin shook his head. “Can’t. Jungkook would have a fit if I got that close to you right now. I’m already pushing my luck just by showing up.” He doesn’t care, you thought bitterly, and almost said it out loud but you caught yourself at the last second. Jimin wasn’t stupid, though. He knew what you were thinking. “Hey,” he murmured, eyes going soft, “are you ready to talk about it?”

“No.” You shook your head. A wave of sadness washed over you but the telltale prick of tears didn’t come.

Jimin understood. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he rocked back onto his heels. “Are you going to talk to him?”

Letting out a heavy breath, you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know I have to. I just…I just need time.”

“Take however long you need.”

It was another 48-hours before you finally snapped. While you had spent the majority of the two days that had passed to make yourself resemble a human being, you couldn’t focus. You couldn’t move on. Why?

Because Jungkook wouldn’t leave you alone.

His presence was constant. He circled your house every hour of ever day, the large shadow of him in wolf form darkened the trees behind your house. The howling had stopped but the pacing hadn’t. You hoped he was at least sleeping, but then you got annoyed at yourself for caring. You didn’t know why he was out there, it made no sense. Jungkook’s words were so different from his actions it made your head spin.

But, you needed to move on with your life. You had to. The only way it was going to happen was if Jungkook did too. It hurt. God, did it hurt. Yet, as sad and utterly pathetic as it sounded, you were used to the pain at this point, had resigned yourself to it. A part of you worried you wouldn’t know what to do without it.

Shaking off that depressing thought, you tugged on your rain boots and stepped outside for the first time in a week. The air was heavy with the promise of rain, the clouds low and gray. You tugged the hood up on your sweater to prevent your hair from completely frizzing out before you walked to down the back deck steps.

The backyard of your parents house was expansive. The home you had grown up in sat on top of a sloping hill that your mother had turned into her personal greenhouse. You stepped past rows of raised garden beds and pruned plants until you reached the line where the neatly mowed grass met the twisted ferns of the forest floor. As you had suspected, the ground was scorched with the evidence of past rituals. While your mother hadn’t out right admitted, you had figured someone had come and created a boundary line. It was obviously specific to Jungkook since Jimin and Taehyung were still able to visit. While your mother’s methods were extreme, you understood. As difficult as it was to move on with your life with Jungkook sequestered to the forest, you couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like if he was within a few feet of you.

With a deep inhale, you sat down on the damp grass and waited. After a few minutes, you could hear the faint sounds of paws hitting the wet earth. The galloping got louder and louder until there was a momentary stretch of silence before it changed to footsteps.

When Jungkook emerged from the trees, you weren’t prepared. Although you knew you wouldn’t be, you still weren’t expecting it to hurt this bad. Your chest squeezed painfully at the first look of his broad form. Technically, it had been two weeks since you two had truly seen each other, the longest you’d ever gone. What hurt the most was how badly you longed for him. You wanted nothing more than to run straight into his arms, bury your face into his chest, and forget everything. Just forgive and give your heart what it wanted. But you remained firmly in place.

Jungkook looked as if he had seen a ghost. Which, to be fair, was probably true since you hadn’t seen the sun in seven days. His normally golden skin was pale and even from where you sat you could see the dark circles bruising under his eyes. Clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping. You hated that you noticed. You hated that you cared. He was dressed in all black and his chest strained against the material of his sweater. His hands were balled into tight fists at his side and the sight reminded you of why you were here.

“Hi.” Probably wasn’t the best start but it was the best you could do. Jungkook didn’t respond so you soldiered on. “I-I know you don’t want to be here, so I’ll make this quick. I just…wanted to apologize. I had no idea I made you so uncomfortable. I’m not sure how long you’ve felt this way about me, not that it really matters, but I wish you had told me sooner. Maybe things would’ve been easier for you, who knows.” You released a heavy sigh and tried to shove down the stone in your throat as you forced the next words out of your mouth. “But, all of that doesn’t matter anymore. I think I understand what you need, now. I know you loved me at one point, but I’m obviously not what you need anymore. And…t-that’s okay - I swear it is. All I want is for you to be happy, Jungkook. And I think, in order for that to happen, I need to move on. We both need to move on-”

“Stop it,” Jungkook broke in with a harsh voice that cut your sentence in half. “Stop talking.”

It felt like he had slapped you in the face. A wave of humiliation washed over you and you visibly flinched. Staggering to your feet, you locked your gaze onto your boots in an attempt to hide the tears that dripped down your nose. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, not expecting it to change anything. You began to turn away but Jungkook stopped you in your tracks, again.

“Wait, no - stop. Stop. Please…don’t go,” he pleaded. When you turned around, his eyes were frantic. Jungkook’s hand was raised from his side as if he thought about reaching out to you but something stopped him. His words were at war with one another and you were caught in the middle, at a loss for what he was trying so desperately to convey to you.

“Jungkook, I’m so confused.”

“I know. I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry.” Jungkook tucked his head into his hands before dropping down into a squat. “This is all wrong. This is all so wrong.”

You knew you should walk away. You had said your piece, it was time to move on, just as you had said. Yet, you couldn’t. It was as if your heart was tethered to him and your body couldn’t handle the pain of walking away. “Listen-”

“I don’t know what to do.” He cut you off but the bubbles of anger that had risen from being interrupted popped once you saw how lost he looked. His tattooed fingers threaded through his hair, allowing you to see the pure anguish that twisted his features. “Whenever I feel like this, I come to you. Because you always know what to do. Any situation, no matter what, you can handle it. It’s something I’ve always admired about you.”

The way he spoke to you now, so reverently and so full of awe, made your head spin. Nothing made sense.  It was such a blatant contrast to the brutality that he had spat out a week ago. As much as you wanted to believe what he said now, those stupid words could not get out of your head. It was a constant reminder that never shut up.

“I don’t know what to do either,” you admitted in a quiet voice.

“Tell me,” Jungkook begged, as if he couldn’t and refused to comprehend what you had just told him. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Whatever you want from me, I’ll give you.”

You were shaking your head before he could finish. “There’s nothing you can do, Jungkook. Nothing.”

“Don’t say that.” He stared at you, horrified. “Don’t say that to me. Please, there has to be something.”

“What could there be?” You cried. Tears streamed down your cheeks now. “You said it yourself, being near me makes you sick. Why would I stay? Why would you want me to? I refuse to make you uncomfortable anymore - so that’s that.”

“It isn’t,” Jungkook argued back. “It can’t be. I-I can’t lose you, I can’t. I need to make this right, please just let me. Please.”

But, you were tired. You were so fucking tired. You were exhausted of the emotional rollercoaster that you were on that you just wanted to crawl away and hide. All the fight seeped out of you as your shoulders slumped forward. Jungkook saw this and the blood drained from his face. You were giving up, he could see it, and it scared the shit out of him.

“Jungkook, I need to go, okay? I-I can’t do this.”

“No!” Jungkook shouted and shot up to his feet. The pure panic that choked his voice brought on a fresh set of tears that you struggled to hold back. “Just let me explain, okay? I swear to God, after you hear what I have to say, if you still want me to, I’ll let you go. I won’t fight you on it. But, please let me tell you the truth. Give me a chance to make this right. You deserve that.”

You hesitated for a moment. Deep down, you knew you should let him talk. Not because you necessarily thought he deserved to, but because he was right. You did deserve the truth, no matter how much it broke your heart. With a heavy sigh and a quick swipe of your cheeks, you nodded. Once Jungkook was sure you weren’t going to leave, he began pacing. Looking every bit like the wild animal you knew him to be but never got to see.

“Mating with a werewolf is…brutal. It’s intense, it’s painful and it isn’t pretty. It’s essentially a breeding session where I use you as a vessel to fulfill my innate biological needs. It’s not romantic, it’s not gentle. Even for she-wolves it can be too much. The thought of subjecting you to something like that - that type of pain…I couldn’t fathom it. I don’t think you understand just how precious you are to me. The image of you being battered and bruised because of me, something I did…it tormented me, day and night.” He paused for a moment, the pained look in his eyes made you shiver. You hated that he had gone through all of this turmoil on his own, and you especially hated how you never made more of an effort to try and relieve him of it.

“I couldn’t do it. That’s partially the reason I waited so long to tell you that you were my true mate. I knew ruts were something I would never expose you to even though it’s such a huge part of my life, a wolf’s life.” Jungkook looked you straight in the eye, the intensity of his dark gaze took your breath away. “I know the practices other wolves partake in when their own heats or ruts arrive. I know you know them too. But, I need you to understand something. The moment you allowed me to be yours and vice versa, I haven’t had anyone else since. I swear on my life, I’ve spent every single one of my ruts alone. I wouldn’t and I won’t do that to you.”

“Isn’t that painful, though?” Your voice cracked but neither one of you acknowledged it. While your knowledge on ruts were expansive, having done plenty of research since being with Jungkook, you had obviously never experienced one.

“It’s manageable. It’s way more painful for a she-wolf to go through her heat alone than it is for a male.” Jungkook clenched and unclenched his fists as he resumed his pacing. “The worst part is being away from you. I’ve been going through ruts since puberty, I can handle them. But not being able to be with you for a whole week…I hated it. Still do. I dread that three month mark. And as time went on, I became more and more miserable. Being apart from you was almost unbearable but the other option…I never even allowed myself to consider it.

“It came to the point where the pack was noticing. I wasn’t getting the proper pheromonal release from my ruts and it was beginning to affect those around me. Taehyung has been on my ass for months now to get over myself and take you with me during my next rut. Each time I’d give him some excuse, but it was getting harder and harder to justify what I was doing. At first, I was convinced it was because I was protecting you. But you’ve been so understanding and so patient with me and my life, those excuses were becoming useless. Eventually, I think it was because I was protecting myself. I was - am - so scared. I’m terrified that I could hurt you when I’m like that. That I wouldn’t be able to notice or worse, ignored, if something happened to you. Living with that type of fear became debilitating. So, I just kept my mouth shut and kept you away from that part of me.”

Jungkook shook his head and chuckled humorlessly. “Now I know that was the worst possible thing I could do. That I was just hurting you more. What you walked into last Sunday was a culmination of my frustrations that I was refusing to deal with. While it’s not a valid reason, I’m well aware of that, I need you to know that what you heard was not the truth. It couldn’t be further from it. Because the truth is that I’m hopelessly in love with you and the thought of being without you hurts worse than I ever thought was possible.”

It wasn’t the first nor would it be the last time that Jungkook left you speechless. It took you a full minute to process what he had said. Jungkook granted you the silence although he became increasingly more agitated as time passed. His boots scuffed the dead leaves that littered the ground and his pacing led him closer to the ashes that lay before your feet. Then, he’d suddenly stalk off with a growl as he was forced to keep away.

“I-” you cleared your throat around the lump that had found a home there. “I had no idea. This whole time…I thought it was because you didn’t want me.”

“God, no.” Jungkook swore heavily as his muscles bunched and coiled beneath his clothes. “The - the fact that…you - fuck. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. That’s not it, that’s not it at all. You’re my dream girl, you’re the love of my life, and I want you every second of every day.”

Maybe it’s because you were emotionally drained and had no mental strength left. Maybe, you needed to hear those words from Jungkook more than you realized. Whatever the reason was, it wasn’t worth trying to figure out an explanation as you sunk to the ground and burst into tears.

Jungkook lost it across from you. Broken whines stained the air as he carded through his hair anxiously. He kept trying to get to you, to try to soothe you. But the boundary was unfortunately doing its job and each attempt was met with failure. Curses were spat out until eventually, he got as close as the boundary would let him and fell to his knees. He began spewing whatever came to mind first, unsure of what to do. All he knew was that you were crying because of him and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He thought hearing you cry from your bedroom window was torture, but nothing could compare to hearing you break down in front of him. Nothing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m sorry…please, I’m so sorry. I - don’t cry, darling. Please don’t. I’m so sorry I hurt you, I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

It wasn’t tears of heartbreak that leaked from your eyes. Instead, it was tears of relief. While your heart had wholly accepted his words as the truth, the logical part of you reminded yourself that the two of you had way more talking to do. This was far from over, but the relief of knowing that he loved you and he was yours…it was indescribable.

You finally lifted your head up and were shocked to find Jungkook’s cheeks glistening with moisture. Your only thought was to comfort him as you scrambled forward to do just that. Instead of feeling his smooth skin against the palm of your hand, you were blocked by what felt like a wall although nothing stood in your way. Frowning, you realized with a start that the boundary worked both ways. Jungkook let out a frustrated growl as he glared at the ashes that was stopping both of you from getting what you wanted. It was silent for a few moments until an idea popped into your head.

“Wait here,” you announced before jumping up and taking off for the house. Ignoring Jungkook’s distressed cry, you ran inside. You yanked your car keys off from their designated hook and quickly typed out a text to your parents to let them know where you were going before spinning around and sprinting back outside. Jungkook was where you left him, although he stumbled to his feet when he saw you reappear.

“I’m going to your house,” you announced, breathless. “No witch is stupid enough to go that far into werewolf territory. If you want to talk to me there, then follow me.”

Jungkook stared at you for a heartbeat until the words you spoke clicked. “Y-yeah. Yes. Okay. I’ll be there.”

With a curt nod, you ran to your car. For the first time in a week, a faint sprout of hope bloomed in your chest.

It was the longest and shortest ten minutes of your life. The drive to Jungkook’s seemed to last a lifetime but also was over within a blink of an eye. The tears had stopped flowing by the time you pulled your car into his driveway, but you felt the telltale prick in your eyes when you saw him burst from the trees. Your heart ached as his long legs ate up the distance between you two as you wrestled with your seatbelt and threw the car into park. By the time you freed yourself, he was at the hood of your car.

The two of you stared at each other for a few breathless moments. You weren’t sure who moved first, but it didn’t matter as you crashed into each other’s arms. The moment his searing warmth enveloped you, you dissolved into another puddle of sobs. The feeling of his thick arms banded across your back, his torso molded to yours, and his hair tickling your ear, felt so right. Another wave of crippling relief washed over you and you practically melted against Jungkook. But he held you up, just like he always had.

He leaned against the front bumper while his hands were everywhere. Cradling your head into his neck, smoothing over your hips, or running circles over your shoulders. He was crying, you could feel the tears dampening your hair. But you were soaking his shirt so no one was in any position to complain.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t,” Jungkook hissed fiercely as he squeezed you tighter. “Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault, not in the slightest.”

“Kook,” you sighed and pulled your head back to get a good look at him. “It takes two to tango.”

“Not this time,” he argued. “You’ve put up with so much. You’re everything I could’ve asked for and more. It was my own fears that got in the way and created this mess. And I’m so sorry for that, darling. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You shushed him gently, running your thumbs over his cheeks to swipe at the dried tears. “I know you’re sorry. I believe you.”

Jungkook dipped his head further into your touch with a pleased rumble vibrating through his chest. He kissed your palm gently, sniffing at your wrist. It made you giggle. “Missed that,” Jungkook mumbled as he stared at you with stars in his eyes. “Missed you. Missed you so much.”

A fresh wave of tears cascaded down your cheeks. You were positive that you looked like a mess, hair in a knotted bun, face red and puffy and you kept sniffling every two seconds. But Jungkook looked at you as if you held the world in your hands. “Missed you too,” you murmured in return. “Please, next time, just talk to me. I may not have the answers you’re looking for all the time, but I’ll always be here to listen.”

“I know,” Jungkook whispered. “There won’t be a next time, promise. If I happen to be stupid enough to put us in this position again, I give you full permission to punch me in the face.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You lifted yourself onto your toes to brush your lips against his, dropping back down to your feet when his head chased after yours. “Or maybe I just won’t kiss you for a week.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened comically and he actually looked terrified. “I’d rather you just punched me in the face.” You tilted your head back and laughed. Jungkook tugged you closer and nosed your throat before peppering gentle kisses along the exposed skin. Sighing happily, you tilted your head to allow him better access and rested your cheek on his shoulder.

“I love you,” you said quietly. Jungkook froze for a split second before he sank against you. Squeaking in shock, you scrambled to brace yourself against the sudden weight pressing you towards the house.

“Say it again,” Jungkook pleaded. You couldn’t deny him. Dusting feather light kisses to the shell of his ear, you repeated those three words again, and again, and again. Each time you did, Jungkook held you a little tighter and cried a little harder.

Eventually, you’re murmured promises became softer and softer until the two of you just enjoyed each others presence. “C’mon,” you finally whispered as you started to lift yourself off of him. Jungkook growled and refused to let you move an inch farther. “Kook, come on. Let’s go inside. Your ass must be numb by now.”

“Don’t care,” he grumbled but he at least shuffled forward a bit more so that your combined weight wasn’t squashing his ass against your car.

“You might say that now, but you won’t be saying that later.”

Jungkook grunted at your logic but he at least raised his head and looked at you with the sweetest eyes. “Please tell me you’re staying.”

Giggling, you asked, “do you want me to?”

“Obviously,” he scoffed. “I want you here forever.” Jungkook tilted his head thoughtfully. “Actually, you should just move in with me.”

Christ, this boy was going to give you whiplash. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Jungkook, we just made up. The whole reason we were in this mess is because of poor communication. Don’t you think we should work on that first before anything else?”

“But…we could work on communication all the time if we’re together 24/7.” Despite his pout, you knew he wasn’t totally serious. Although you were sure it was going to come up again.

“Alright, you maniac,” you said fondly. “Take me to bed.” Jungkook’s chest rumbled happily as he lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his trim waist.

It wasn’t a long walk to his bedroom, but the exhaustion of the past week caught up to you and the gentle rocking of his steps lulled you into a serene state. Not quite asleep, but not quite awake either. You were aware when Jungkook placed you on his bed, practically engulfed in his scent. The last thing you remember before falling asleep was the words Jungkook pressed into your hair has he slid in behind you.

“Love you forever, my darling girl.”

©jcwritings Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

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[the-bau-quinjet]

Nervous

Hello! This is honestly just a bunch of fluff (a tiny bit of angst bc Spencer worries about everything) and the reader being very nervous! I am currently writing a sequel to take place directly after this one! Read part two here!

Summary: Reader is arrested by the BAU! Little do they know, she is dating the one agent who is currently on medical leave...

warnings: none!

Word Count: 4954

“Are you sure you can pick her up today?” You are currently running around your apartment, phone held to your ear with your shoulder. You have to be at work in fifteen minutes, but first you have to drop your daughter off at school, and you’re running very late.

 “Babe, yes. I’m almost completely healed and I don’t go back to work until tomorrow. I’ll pick her up after school and then meet you at your apartment when you’re done working. Okay?” Thank God for Spencer Reid. He has been on medical leave for 5 days, slowly going insane. But, it meant more time for you and Lily to spend with him, so you’re not complaining.

“That’s perfect, thank you so much! I gotta go, I love you!” You are in such a daze, you don’t stop to think about the three words that just came out of your mouth. You hang up before Spencer can respond as you wrestle with your six year old to put shoes on. Grabbing both of your coats, you run out the door.

 You met Spencer Reid 9 months ago when he came into the hospital you work in with a concussion and some pretty bad bruises. It was really a chance meeting. Normally, you don’t even deal with patients because you work in research. But, your best friend asked you to run some lab results to a patient’s room and you couldn’t say no. Dr. Spencer Reid happened to be that patient.

 He wasn’t supposed to be in the room, but apparently something happened with the CT schedule, and he was done earlier than expected. So, instead of simply dropping off forms in an empty room, you hit a man with a door. Why he was standing behind the door is still a mystery to you, but you felt awful. This man is in the hospital and to make matters worse, you come along and hit him! With a door! You offered to get him some coffee as an apology, and in his concussed state he said “Only if we can go together.” You’ve since realized that was smoother than he normally acts, but you don’t care. He is the most lovable man you’ve ever met. 

 You met up for coffee three days later, and have been dating ever since. He met your daughter, Lily, on the second date. They clicked instantly. You knew then and there that you would love this man forever. You have not, however, actually said I love you before this morning. But, you’re still in too much of a rush to stop and think about it… or even realize it happened.  

 You pull into the parking garage at the hospital 7 minutes late. Honestly, better than you expected. The morning flies by as you work on research grants and hospital studies. All in all, a pretty average day. That is, until you walk back into the building from your lunch break.

 You don’t get a lot of visitors in the research wing, so it’s strange to see two pretty official looking individuals at the front desk. It’s even stranger to hear your name come out of one of their mouths.

 “Hi there. We are Agents Morgan and Rossi from the FBI. We’re looking Ms. Y/N L/N. Is she here?” That must have been Morgan talking.

 Spencer has told you a lot about his team. You feel like you know them all already with how many stories he’s told you. You’ve been hesitant to meet them though because of Lily. You don’t want her to get too attached to him and his friends if things were to go sideways. You haven’t really dated anyone since her father, so you’re a bit nervous. Spencer, of course, completely understands. He just wants you to be happy. It’s hard not to love him even more at the thought.

 You are immediately thrown into a panic at the sight of the two agents. Your thoughts are running wild with possibilities. They must be here because something happened to Spencer. Wait. That doesn’t make sense. He’s not even working today.

 Your panicked train of thought pulls to a stop when the two agents walk up to you. “Ms. L/N? Can we speak with you for a moment?” You nod, leading them toward your office.

 “Of course. My office is just down the hall.” You can’t help but feel nervous at the prospect of meeting Spencer’s coworkers without him. Especially if it has to do with a case they’re working. These are the people he loves most in the world. They are his family. What if they don’t like you? What if they think you’re an idiot? What if they think Spencer can do better? It also doesn’t help that you know they can tell you’re nervous because you know they are profilers. You sit down behind your desk, offering them the seats on the opposite side.

 “Ms. L/N, you’re in charge of the research department, correct?” Rossi says it like a question, but he clearly knows the answer.

 “That’s right.” You are trying everything you can to get your nerves to settle, but it just isn’t working. You’re basically lying to two human lie detectors, even if it is just by omission.

 “So if items were to go missing from this laboratory, you would be responsible for reporting it.” It was Morgan who spoke this time. It’s hard for you to follow their line of questioning. What would go missing? It’s not like you wouldn’t notice if a fume hood suddenly disappeared.

 “I suppose so, although it depends on what items. We don’t have a specific inventory of commonly used products like syringes and gauze, we just order more when we get low.” You can’t decide which agent to focus on. Your eyes are flicking nervously between both of them.

 “What about human tissue?” When the words come out of Morgan’s mouth, you freeze for just a second. You don’t have any human tissue in the lab, so how would it go missing? Of course, the profilers take the delay in your response to mean something other than confusion.

 “We- we don’t use human tissue in this specific laboratory. We focus on small animal models. The other research lab is responsible for human tissue protocols.” You stutter through your words under the harsh glares of the two agents. It is really not helping your nerves.

 “Then how do you explain this?” Rossi slides a paper across your desk. It’s housed in a large plastic bag with “EVIDENCE” across the top in big, block letters. It’s a form you have never seen before. The kind someone would fill out to transfer human tissue between labs. Your hands shake as you hold the paper, slowly trying to figure out what it is. You almost puke when you reach the bottom. It has your signature as an approval of the request. You drop the paper as if it has burned you.

 “I’ve never- I didn’t- how did-” You’re cut off before you can try to finish your sentence, but you don’t hear what they are saying. You feel the cold click of metal around your wrists, tight enough to just pinch your skin. They lead you back out of the building, to a waiting SUV. You can’t help but be grateful that nobody was there to witness your arrest.

 The ride to Quantico is silent. You keep trying to figure out how someone could have signed your name on that form, but you can’t focus. Your mind keeps drifting to memories with Spencer.

 You remember your first date in the coffee shop a block away from the hospital. He ordered a black coffee only to pour in an exorbitant amount of sugar. He blushed slightly, as if he was embarrassed by his drink preferences, only for his features to transform into a soft smile as you did exactly the same thing. The two of you talked for hours, only ending the date when you had to go pick up Lily.

 You remember running into him in the park with Lily, what you would come to refer to as your second date. He looked ethereal sitting at a table playing chess. Lily ran up to him, or rather the chess board he was sitting in front of, before you could stop her. She wanted to know what the horsey was for. You watched as he patiently explained to the five year old that it was a knight responsible for defending the king. 

He told her how it moves on the board. He told her how it was special because it is the only piece that can jump over other pieces. He must have spent 15 minutes talking to her about this one piece. And she was enthralled. When he was done, he looked around to find the child’s parents only to meet your eye. You’ll never forget the way his smile grew when he realized Lily was yours. The three of you spent the rest of the day in the park, playing chess, walking around the pond, and getting to know each other.

 You remember the look in his eyes right after he kissed you the first time. You remember how worried you were the first time he was injured on a case. You remember Lily asking you if he could be her daddy, and crying yourself to sleep that night because you wanted that too, more than anything, and you were so scared it wasn’t going to happen.

 Then you finally remember he’s picking Lily up from school today. Suddenly, the car ride isn’t so quiet anymore.

 “I need to call someone.” The words come out frantic and rushed. You are absolutely sure the expression on your face screams crazy, but this is about your kid, so you really don’t care. You need to call Spencer. Then he’ll come fix this. Explain how you couldn’t possibly be involved. The agent’s response is shorter than you expected.

 “Why?” Rossi sounds skeptical when he asks it. You would later suppose that he had a reason to be skeptical of you. Right now though? You didn’t do anything wrong so the whole innocent until proven guilty thing feels a little fake to you at the moment.

 “My boyfriend is picking up my daughter from school. I need to call him.” You don’t really know how to tell them said boyfriend is one Dr. Spencer Reid. You weren’t supposed to meet his friends yet and definitely not without him. You aren’t really in the right headspace to be deciding if right now is the best moment to out your relationship.

 “If he’s already planning on picking her up, you shouldn’t need to call him.” It feels to you at this moment that they don’t even believe you have a child. Of course, they must know because they have the one and only Penelope Garcia to find out every little thing about you. Before you can say anything else, they are dragging you out of the SUV and into the building. You are pushed through security into an elevator that takes you to the fifth floor. The BAU. You thought the first time you visited Spencer’s work would be a happier occasion. And that he would be here. The whole situation would actually be kind of funny if you weren’t so worried and nervous.

 The first thing you say when you are lead through the very intimidating glass doors is “JJ.” You would come to understand why that might earns some stares. The whole room is looking at you as if you have grown another head.

 “How do you know my name?” That’s a loaded question. Spencer has showed you pictures of his godson, Henry. JJ happened to be in some of those pictures as he is in fact, her son. Of course, you can’t really articulate that because you are too stressed and nervous to form full sentences. It takes a lot out of a person to be arrested, dragged from their place of work, shoved in a car, driven two hours through DC traffic, and then pulled into the FBI building as a suspect.

 Instead of properly calming yourself down until you can form a complete sentence, your eyes go wide and you say “Henry” as if that is enough of an explanation. If looks could kill, you would be dead.

 “How do you know my son’s name?” JJ’s words are so harsh, you physically flinch.

 “I.. it’s just that… You… Well… I-” You are a loss for words, yet again. You didn’t expect for Spencer’s best friend to ever look at you with such disgust. It’s honestly a little overwhelming to think the people he calls family all currently hate you. Even if they don’t really know who you are.

 “Maybe a few hours in here will jog your memory.” And with that you’re left alone to sit in a cold metal chair and stare at your reflection.

 --

 Throughout your relationship, Spencer has tried not to worry. You frequently come home from work a bit later than you originally planned, especially if you feel like you got a late start. So, when you don’t enter your apartment right at 5:30, he doesn’t think anything of it. When 6:00 rolls around, he texts you. At 6:30 he calls. By the time it reaches 7:00 and he still hasn’t heard from you, he’s actively pacing your small living room. When his most recent call goes to voicemail, he breaks. He packs up Lily’s stuff and the two of them are on the way to Quantico, finding you being the only thing on his mind.

 He replays his favorite moments with you in his mind as he drives from your DC apartment to Quantico. Normally, he’d take the metro, but if you really are missing it’s safer for Lily in the car.

He remembers the look on your face when you realized you hit him with a door. He couldn’t imagine a more beautiful person. You looked so guilty, he felt the need to hug you to tell you it was okay. It was a foreign feeling for him. He’s never been one to physically comfort people. Maybe it was the concussion. It was definitely the concussion that gave him the courage to ask you to coffee.

 He remembers the fluttering of butterflies in his stomach when he watched you pour almost as much sugar as him into your coffee. The soft smile on your face as the two of you spent hours talking about anything he could think of to keep the conversation from ending.

 He remembers the utter joy he felt upon realizing the five year old who inquired about the horsey on the chess board is your daughter. He remembers how he felt when he looked up, expecting to find an annoyed parent given that he just lectured a five year old on one chess piece for 15 minutes, but was instead met with your kind smile and loving eyes. He loves Lily just as much, if not more than he loves you.

 He remembers how you hung up the phone this morning before he could say “I love you too.” And now the thoughts he’s tried so hard to block out are circling in his mind. The words repeating in his head, over and over. What if I never see her again? What if I can’t tell her I love her?

 He pulls into the garage, carrying Lily so he can run faster into the building. He puts her down when they finally reach the elevator. She’s been surprisingly calm despite Spencer’s nervous attitude.

 “Spencie, where is Momma?” Spencer’s heart constricts at the sound of her sweet voice. He doesn’t know where you are, and it terrifies him.

 “We are going to find out! How would you like to see my desk? You can play with the cube I showed you at home!” He pulls a Rubik’s cube out of his satchel, placing it in Lily’s small hands. He guides Lily to his desk, telling her to stay there while he looks for his friends. She looks so tiny in his desk chair, he would stop to take a picture if his phone had that feature.

 He finds the team in the round table room. His eyes scan the room, landing on JJ’s concerned expression last. He’s surprised to find Will in the room as well. JJ notices him before anyone else.

 “Spence, thank God you’re here. We need fresh eyes.” Before he can protest, Morgan is filling him in on the events that have unfolded.

 “We brought a suspect in from DC, and she knew JJ.” Spencer’s eyes go wide. If the team is in trouble, that could be why Y/N was taken.

 “When I asked her how she knew me, her only response was ‘Henry.’ Something doesn’t add up.” Movement in the doorway catches everyone’s eye.

 “Spencie, did you find Momma yet?” Lily stands in the doorway, looking straight at Spencer.

 “Not yet sweetheart. I have some cookies in my bag, why don’t you go back to my desk and eat them, okay?” 

“Can I have two?” The little girl holds up two of her tiny fingers, unaware of the confused glances from every adult in the room that isn’t Spencer. 

“Of course, sweet pea. Whatever you want. You can even spin around in my chair!” The child nods before running back to Spencer’s desk. Spencer turns around to find all eyes on him. The entire team wears similar expressions of shock and awe.

 “Spencie?” Derek questions the nickname.

 “Sweetheart?” JJ’s more focused on how Spencer responded.

 “Who the heck was that 'sweet pea’ and why have you kept her from me?” Garcia is glaring at Spencer for hiding such a cutie pie from her for however long.

 “She’s why I’m here. Well not her, her mother. We’ve been dating for the last 9 months. I picked up Lily from school today. We were supposed to meet back at her apartment, but she never came home. She’s not answering my calls and I don’t know where she could be.” Spencer breaks down as he tries to explain what’s going on. He can’t imagine a world without you in it.

 “Reid, give Garcia her phone number to track her location. This could all be related to our case. If someone is targeting the BAU, we will find them.” Hotch’s no nonsense tone calms everyone in the room. Again, movement in the doorway catches everyone’s attention.

 “Sir, she keeps saying she can explain everything. I know you said 3 hours, but I think she’s ready now.”

 “Thank you, Anderson. We’ll be right there.” The agent leaves without another word. Hotch turns back to continue filling Spencer in on the case. “Reid, we’ve got a suspect in custody. She doesn’t match the profile, but we think she knows something.”

 “She mentioned a boyfriend in the car. He might know something too.” Morgan pipes in as well.

 “I want to talk to her. If she knows where Y/N is, I have to talk to her.” Spencer is out of the room before anyone can stop him. He’s practically running across the bullpen to get to the interrogation room.

 “Y/N?” Morgan questions to the agents left in the round table room.

 --

 You are so cold. They must have the air turned down to put you on edge. You have finally calmed yourself down enough to form actual sentences instead of useless mumbling.

 “Please. Let me explain! I can tell you everything. Well, not everything, because I don’t know how my signature ended up on that paper, but I can tell you about JJ! And Henry! Let me explain!” You never thought about how weird it would be to know someone could be watching your every move. You feel like you’re talking to nobody as you beg for them to let you explain.

 The door flies open with so much force, you fall out of your chair in shock. There are hands on you, pulling you to your feet before you’ve even registered hitting the ground.

 “Where is sh- Y/N?” Spencer’s tone of voice changes so quickly your brain can’t follow. You just look into his before you burst into tears.

 “Oh thank God. Spencer, I was so scared. I was so nervous when Derek and Rossi came to interview me. I didn’t want them to hate me, you know? Even though they didn’t know who I was. And then I saw JJ, and I got even worse. I mean, she’s your best friend! And she sounded so angry, which was my fault, but I couldn’t even form words to explain myself because I was so sure these people- the people you consider family- were going to hate me and I made everything so much worse. But I-” Spencer knows if he doesn’t cut you off, you’ll ramble endlessly. It’s always like that when you spend too much time alone. As if all the energy you could’ve spent talking to someone pours out of you all at once.

 “Shh, baby, it’s okay. We can explain everything. I’m so happy to see you. To know you’re okay. God, I love you too.” You turn your tear stained face to look up at him.

 “Wha- oh my God. I said that. I didn’t even realize I said it. But it’s true. I love you so much. I can’t imagine a world without you. That’s why I was so nervous about meeting the team. And they wouldn’t let me call you, so I couldn’t ask you what to do.” The two of you continue trying to fill each other in on what has lead you to this moment.

 Hotch and JJ make their way into the room without either of you noticing. They both sit down before either speaks. “Reid, I’m going to need you to leave the room.” Spencer turned around with you still in his arms, your head pulled tight to his chest. He glares at his boss before responding. “No. She didn’t do this. The dates from the case file you gave me, they don’t line up. April 17th, we watched the new episode of Doctor Who and spent the rest of the night discussing theories. April 20th, we went to dinner to celebrate Lily’s sixth birthday. April 22nd we watched Tangled with Lily until she fell asleep and then we…” He trailed off, turning a bright shade of pink. You wiggled in his arms, trying to hide the blush on your face as well.

 “Spence, where’s Lily?” You know he needs to leave if you are ever actually going to get out of this room.

 “She’s at my desk. She looked so tiny in my chair.” He practically has heart eyes as he thinks back to where he left your little girl.

 “Why don’t you go tell her you found me? I’ll be okay.” You wipe the remaining tears from your eyes as you sit back down in the cold metal chair. Spencer looks as though he would rather read Twilight again than leave you, but he reluctantly walks out of the room.

 You start rambling before the agents get a chance to ask you a question.

 “I’m so sorry. I’ve probably wasted so much of your time. I just freaked out when I realized I was meeting Spence’s family. That’s why I know your son’s name.” You turn slightly to look at JJ. “He talks about him all the time, and he’s shown me pictures. I’m so so sorry that you had to worry about your child’s safety because of me. I was just nervous to meet you. That’s why I haven’t met you yet actually. Because I didn’t want Lily to get too attached if something happened and we broke up. Not that I can imagine breaking up with Spencer. I would spend the rest of my life with him if he gave me the chance.” You can feel the tears brimming again. “I really don’t know why my name is on that paper. I never would have signed it! My lab doesn’t use human tissues.” You try to stress that point.

 “Ms. L/N, we believe you. We never thought you were responsible, but it was a suspicious situation. You can never be too careful in our line of work.” Hotch still looks extremely serious, but his tone is slightly more relaxed than when he threw you into this room.

 “Of course. I would’ve thought I was guilty if I didn’t know the truth. Is there anything I can do to help?” You are so relieved to know they don’t think you’re a crazy murderer.

 “We need to ask you a few questions about the people who work in your lab.”

 “Oh. Okay.” You have to actively force yourself not to start rambling again.

 “Do you know any of these people?” The agent shows you three pictures of young women. They couldn’t be more than 25.

 “No…” You can’t put your finger on it, but they look familiar.

 “But?” JJ encourages you to continue.

 “I’m not sure. They look familiar for some reason.” All three women have brunette hair and green eyes. Their face shapes are even shockingly similar.

 “Do you know anyone who looks like these women?” You don’t know how they know that, but you do. They’ve planted the seed, and it instantly grew into a massive oak.

 “I do! Her name is Renee. Um... Renee Watkins. She works in the hospital, in the lab where they run blood tests.” You look at the agents with hope in your eyes. Maybe now they’ll let you leave. They both stand up without saying anything else. Hotch leaves first. JJ stares at you for a minute.

 “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just, you’re his best friend. If you hate me, we won’t work. He cares about all of you way too much for me to get in the way of that.” You honestly still feel awful about the unnecessary fear you’ve caused her and her family.

 “He cares about you too. He’s been happier than I’ve seen him in years. I knew something was up, but I didn’t want to push him.” You can’t keep your smile off your face at her words. “Let’s forget about all of it. I’m just going to focus on the relief of knowing nobody is after my son.”

 “Thank you. I really am so sorry though.” You feel the need to keep apologizing.

 “Really, it’s fine. Come with me, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

 JJ leads you back to the bullpen. Right as you turn the corner, you can spot Spence playing with Lily and Henry. He’s captivated their attention with a magic trick.

 “He’s so good with them.” Almost involuntarily, your hand brushes over your stomach.

 “He’s always wanted to be a father.” JJ eyes your hand before giving you a rather pointed look.

 “Oh! No, I’m not pregnant.” You let your arm fall back to your side. “He’s just so good with Lily; she asked me if he could be her dad.” You can feel the tears coming again. “I just know that one day I will have that man’s babies.” JJ snorts and suddenly the two of you break out laughing. Your laughter makes enough noise to capture Spencer’s attention, two little pairs of eyes following his lead. All three of them are suddenly running across the room to you and JJ.

 Lily jumps into your arms, much as Henry does to JJ. You pull her close, leaning into Spencer as his arms circle around you both. The moment is interrupted when Penelope Garcia comes running into the room.

 “I’ve got him. Shane Harrison, 28. He dated Renee Watkins in high school. He was recently fired from his position in the human tissues lab at Children’s National Hospital. There are reports of him breaking in, although nothing was reported stolen due to falsified transfer documents.”

 “What made him start killing?” Morgan asks while you and JJ desperately cover the children’s ears.

 “Renee recently got engaged. She posted all about her new fiancée on social media. I already texted you the address.” JJ says a rushed goodbye to Will and the team is out the door. Lily runs back over Spencer’s desk with Henry so she can show him the Rubik’s cube.

 “Aren’t you going to help them?” You turn to Spencer who hasn’t left your side.

 “I think they can manage this one without me. I’m needed somewhere else at the moment.” As if to prove his point, he leans in to kiss you. It’s short and sweet and everything you needed at the moment.

 The sound of someone clearing their throat pulls the two of you out of your bubble.

 “Hi, I’m Penelope Garcia. I’m sure the Genius Doctor has told you all about me.”

 “He has indeed. You’re even lovelier in person.” Garcia is just as bright and bubbly as Spencer described her. It makes you smile to think that the team has her never ending positivity while they are surrounded by so much darkness.

 “We are having a team gathering at Rossi’s tomorrow night. You should both come. And Lily!” Garcia smiles again before walking away.

 “You know that means we have to go, right?” Spencer asks you the obvious question.

 “I know honey. You’re afraid of what Garcia could do to you if you get on her bad side.” You laugh at his pout, pulling him down the stairs and over to Lily. It’s about time you all head home.

[eldritch-muppetshow]

playgroup au fun facts bc i’m too lazy to draw art for it today

vicki

- small. she’s like 4 and a half so that’s a given

- sorta-friends with digit, but also finds him kind of off-putting sometimes.

- generally the voice of reason, since she doesn’t like getting in trouble/her friends getting in trouble. unfortunately, she tends to get brushed off as a little kid who doesn’t know any better (more in a “don’t worry, the big kids know what they’re doing” way than a teasing way though)

- constantly wants to help kermit (ie. carrying his backpack, retrieving toys for him), even though kermit obviously doesn’t need her to do this (he does find it sweet though).

leon

- i know this isn’t shown in canon (since it’d be impractical, expensive, and probably wouldn���t look very convincing), but he can change color like an actual chameleon! it’s all just varying shades of purple though, and he can’t blend into his surroundings (as much as he wishes that were the case)

- also friends with digit, but mostly because digit is naive/spacey enough to easily go along with whatever scheme he’s come up with for the day. most of these schemes involve trying to make money (think ed edd n eddy). these usually don’t make him anything, both because the other kids generally don’t fall for it and because they’re little kids in a playgroup, they’re not gonna be carrying money around.

lindbergh

- i’ve already told you pretty much all there is to know about him generally, but i will add that his method of “fixing” things involves smacking them with a plastic hammer. if it’s a “complicated job” he’ll hit the thing with other plastic tools too

digit

- the reason he’s constantly spacing out, not registering what people are saying to him, and absentmindedly touching things is at least partially because he has an awful sleep schedule. he knows about the Forbidden Early Morning Shows that no one else at the playgroup does (the shows that air at the ungodly hours of the morning). he’s pretty energetic when he’s actually rested

- a huge sci-fi nerd. the other kids barely heard him talk until kermit mentioned sci-fi movies in passing, at which point digit perked up and wouldn’t stop talking.

- the only kid who fully knows how to use the tv remote (although their caretaker limits the amount of tv they can watch to get them to play outside/with each other)

[atsumdere]

Nishinoya + Jolly Rancherss

hi, aw ! i am beside myself with everyone's requests !! perfff. and this one? EPICALLY cute. are u kidding me with this, nonni? now, we don't lewd noya on this blog (at least not yet), so this will be all floofity floof fluff and actually sfw cutesy for once. hope you're still down <3

NISHINOYA YUU - halloween costume: funny lobster or deadpool OR danny zuko from grease

noya in a funny lobster costume because....he just would, wouldn’t he?? i mean, boy loves to eat, loves to make you laugh, and bc of obvi timeskip reasons, he is partial to dressing up as a sea creature if he’s gonna fashion aaany food. his lil lightning stripe hair highlight would look so cute poking out of the head hole of the costume and all DAY he’d be makin you giggle with his lobster dance waddle. so don’t get it twisted!! deadpool is def a type of antihero nishi would wanna be like. they both got a fun flappy mouth on them, so i could see noya respecting a guy who kicks ass but who like also doesn’t shut the fuck up, ya know? says whatever’s on his mind. plus, it’s the not typical superhero type, there’s a little bit of mischief in his antics and i think noya resonates with that. and as for danny zuko, i meeean, cmon, need i say more: noya, like danny, always strives to look cool in whatever he’s wearing, so that whole dark-leather-and-converse-shoes look is something he wants to rock, BUT, first and foremost danny z helps him embody his lifelong dream of being a ladies (or guys) man. don’t he? noya would look so SICK in that retro 1950s greaser look esp. with his hair! LIKE- it’s borderline criminal it’s not in a canon halloween panel or something.

aaah, so you see, the thing about nishi and the jolly ranchers is that, actually, he himself would already have them in his possession when you saw him on halloween day. he loves them. a fave candy of his no doubt. he can’t get enough of the variety of flavors and is very into the fact that they are small enough to eat while allowing him to keep gabbing away, blah blah, flappin’ his gums while he has one in his mouth. he can multitask sucking on a piece and get his chatty point across to anyone who’ll listen.

nishinoya stands in a fantastic costume, unwrapping yet another jolly rancher with a fun twist of the two plastic ends between both of his hands’ first two fingers. he’s cradling a chockful of these fruity hard candies in a baggie and you’re the one ogling them. your face is adorned with big heart eyes, like you’re fresh out of some vintage cartoon, laser focused on it, when he catches the sight of it: you, his crush, giving him—well not him, exactly, but close enough proximity-wise, he figures— attention. nishinoya starts flipping out in his chest from your focused glance over to him. also, just as excited that you both have a common interest, even if it is as simple as this one candy.

he’d call your name, with his face beaming, no chill, “oh heyyy!!!! do you like these too?” making his way over, “you want some? i mean, you know what? honestly, you can have the bag. i’ve had way too many already this season. gonna rot my teeth out, so hahah,” he begins to chuckle loudly, almost snorting, “so, you’d be doing me a favor. can have’em all if you want.”

you beam back, say your thanks with a cute and small shy bat of the lashes, looking downward as you respond that you couldn’t possibly take the whole of it. besides, there’s a particular flavor you don’t like anyway, so it would be rude to take it when you would most definitely waste those, discard them.

he shakes his head vigorously, with eyes so earnest, 🥺, waving his entire hand out rapidly with the arm extended all the way towards you, as if to say ‘no way! no worries!’

“uh uh, you’re good! it’s really no problem!” he shifts his cradle of the large baggie over into the gentle hold between two of his hands, presenting the open top, putting into view all the multi-colored sugary jewels of your delight.

“how about this? i’ll pick out all of that one flavor you don’t like or won’t eat, and you can keep the rest.” his warm smile, like the sun, somehow even sunnier than usual when he’s offering something to you, when he’s the one being generous. “i love ‘em all! every single flavor, so i have no problem just taking the ones you don’t want.”

he winks, with a thumbs up at your tickled face. “sounds good?”

you giggle.

“you’ve got a deal, noya.”

and your heart feels like a second sun in the solar system.

closed! : send me an hq, tokyo rev, aot, or jjk character + a candy and i'll tell you what costume they'd wear & write a small blurb with the candy of choice

[dreamsclock]

Howdy! I'm drawing the Daisy Lore au kids, and I was wondering if there are any specific details you have envisioned for the kids! (besides races, which u mentioned, I mean more like, eyecolor, freckles, etc!)

hi !!!!! ahhhhh oh my god this has made me so happy, i can’t wait to see if you post it here !! :DD they’re all kinda up to personal interpretation, but here are some things i had in mind!

daisy > green eyes, dark hair, pretty small !!i always picture her in dungarees for some reason too LMAO, along with george’s signature classes and freckles :]

lissie > blonde curly hair, nothing really solid in mind for her yet :0 i’d imagine pretty tall, but go wild with how you picture her if you wanna !!

helga > short. tiny. So Short. she wears purple bc it’s her favourite colour and has short dark hair !! i think i mentioned that she has little yellow wings, too - she can’t quite fly with them, but they do slow her fall if she falls somewhere high, and usually is covered in band-aids and equipped with golden apples because of how clumsy she is KBSKDKD (can u tell how much i love her jhdssdk)

james > also short and tiny, but like,, a couple of inches taller than helga, which pisses her off lmao. his hair is lighter than his sister’s, and slightly longer too :) he doesn’t have wings, but when he gets excited, he sets himself on fire accidentally, so that’s something LMAO

angel > little ram horns in his hair, and also ginger for some reason in my mind?? pretty tall and freckly (they’re green) and also has glasses. he thinks he’s an explorer so has a magnifying glass he carries everywhere and a little journal where he records cool things he finds that he carries everywhere !! not to mention he has a tail like puffy’s too skjdfksd

michael > similar to the typical fanon design for michael !! nothing special sdkfdlsdkjsb, other than that he wears ranboo’s too-big crown on his head and carries around a stuffed bee toy with him that tubbo made him :D

emmeline > this kid is dressed The Coolest. i imagine she has black wings she can actually fly with (she’s just not very good at it KBDKF), she just doesn’t do it v often !! she looks a lot like bbh’s form in mc, but fluctuates between that and a more human form with blue hair :] she dresses mostly in black and gives herself fake tattoos with pens she steals from angel’s journal up her arms and legs when she’s bored !

darian > looks a Lot like ponk !!! they have the same haircut, but also has creeper abilities as i sort of touched on in the post talking about hybrids!! he wears armour bc sam is always worried about him getting hurt, but he dyes it red and thinks it makes him look cool (it Does). he never wears anything other than red JKDSFKJD, it’s his favourite colour

henry > she’s inherited traits from a Lot of the people tommy cares about! she’s got tubbo’s curly hair, a crown that looks a lot like techno’s (she fell out with michael when they met for the first time bc she thought he’d stolen it from her LMAO), ranboo’s heterochromic eyes and little wings for phil. apart from that, though, she looks SO similar to tommy, and likes to wear t-shirts like his red and white one because she wants to be exactly like him :D she’s got a little mini sword that tommy made for her that Doesn’t Actually Work (it’s plastic), but she likes stabbing people and watching them pretend to die dramatically KFSKNF.